#like ten years are added to my life bc yes!!! they totally are!!! just bc they're in stupid situations doesn't mean they don't have depth!!

[hua-fei-hua]

💖 What do you like most about your own writing?

i woke up at a random hour this morning (as i do), checked my email, n was like "?? why am i receiving asks" n checked n was like "OH THAT ASK GAME I QUEUED WEEKS AGO N WAS THINKING ABT LAST NIGHT CAME OUT OF THE QUEUE LOL"

anyway hmmm i like that i have a lot of Range(tm) when writing!! from being able to make people laugh, to bringing them a new appreciation for a character or pairing, to apparently making people cry at 4am, i'm really happy with the fact that i can pull off a range of genres and pairings that people are able to connect with!

plus, when i first started writing fic in 2016, i remember one of my goals as a fic writer was to be able to write a variety of things, i think in order to reach a broader audience for friend-making, so being able to pull off a lot these days feels really nice -w-

writer asks~

[machiavellli]

Some spicy Theodore Nott headcanons˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚

Notes: this was like driving: I don't have a driver license. Seriously like, you absolutely hyped me up for writing this and now I feel like I need to go touch some grass and drink some holy water.

Btw we shouldn't feel ashamed, like the first people ever to write in a language that is more similar to ours, literally wrote about about two nun fuck1ng him 108 times (yes that's what he says) in a week bc they thought he was mute. Like women in the 700 were DYING bc of novels, bc they couldn't never have enough of it and the majority developed a masturbat1on add1ction. We can't be worse, that's just humanity at its core: we are h0rny creatures.

⚠️: The blue parts are from a poem, from the author Giacomo da Lentini and it's called "Meravigliosamente" (| put a translation at the end, because it's ancient Italian and you can't translate it with a normal translator). It's one of my favorites poems ever, it's one the best incarnation of what love feels like. Yeah now the poets are cursing at me from above.

Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 18+!!Breeding k1nk, p in v, ora1 f receiving, pregnant! reader description, nak3d people in general (idk what to put, BUT YOU HAVE BEEN ADVISED). English is not my first language, therefore you could find some mistakes, please report them to me!

With all being said: enjoy<3

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Theodore Nott, your Italian Slytherin guy:

Theo loves to love as we already established.

He loves to give, he would let his blood dry for you.

Therefore he likes to take care of his dear ones, especially you, il suo tesoro.

I also already told you about how he will think about your future together, how he would love to have a proper family with you.

He just wants to have what his family wasn't capable of giving him.

So when the seventh year it's over, it also means that his only obstacle, the one that used to keep him away from his dream, is also over.

Something changes inside of him, un istinto primario prende il sopravvento. He knows that now it is actually possible.

«Meravigliosamente

un amor mi distringe

e soven ad ogn'ora.»

Maybe the first few months it wouldn't be so evident, he would probably keep it for himself.

He wouldn't like to put pressure on you, he couldn't.

But every time you get intimate, tutte le volte che fate l'amore, he can't help but think what it will feel like letting himself go completely.

Letting it happen.

Letting himself have a proper release.

Letting himself paint your inside white.

His warm finding the embrace of your core.

Planting a life, creating it with il suo tesoro, la sua diletta.

That's the ultimate dream e cazzo quanto lo vorrebbe.

«Com'omo che ten mente

in altro exemplo pinge

la simile pintura,

cosi, bella, facc'eo,

che’nfra lo core meo

porto la tua figura.»

But for now he still has to curse within himself, "cazzo, cazzo, cazzo.", imprisoning that release, that dream.

Simply wishing he could stay inside, saving every drop for you.

It's so hard for him to distract himself from the heavy daydreaming.

His mind as pregnant with thoughts as he wish you were.

You would just look so gorgeous round with his child.

And he would easily do everything under the sight of your new silhouette.

(As he wasn't already totally lost in this love, this passion per la sua bella)

This particular scene keeps repeating in his cursed mind:

You, full and completely bare before him sitting on your shared bed, nonchalantly putting cream on every inch of your skin after a shower.

He might be at the doorstep looking from afar or already on the bed

But it always ends with him interrupting you, taking your hands with devotion, already giving you passions with just his eyes, just for him to say: "dimmi quello che desideri e sarà tuo"

And he would literally do anything.

«Al cor m'ard'una doglia,

com'om che te lo foco

a lo suo seno ascoso,

e quanto più lo'nvoglia,

tanto arde più loco

e non po star incluso»

He would let you exploit his tongue in favor of your pleasure, savoring every drop coming from down there.

Growling just at your moist sight

And he would taste you like a starved man.

Over and over again.

On the bed,

On the Couch,

At the dinner table.

Sempre e ovunque.

Holding you still with one of his firm hands on your now round stomach.

Non è mai stato così facile inginocchiarsi e predicare da quando la sua religione, la sua donna angelo, sei diventata tu.

You look like a miracle to him.

And he would absolutely get lost in this strong trance filled with amore, passione e lussuria.

He would delicately lay your figure on the bed, like the most precious Greek statue of a goddess.

But the softness of your skin will make him realize that you are not a vision, but his blessed reality.

Your fullness getting in the way would quickly become the most delicious sight ever in his eyes.

His dead stare penetrating your soul along with his physical body.

He would tell you that his eyes look gone because he is convinced to be already dead and already in Paradise.

So lost in the haze, so convinced of the woman under him to be an angel.

And now, he is making her la madre dei suoi figli, sua moglie, la sua fiamma, da qui all'eternità.

Your legs, now afar from each other, looking like the most rare prophecy.

The softness of your skin feeling like the salvation from every sin.

Your swollen breast moving along his movements in you, rhythmically, like a fine melody.

And if by chance a single tear of your product falls from them, his eyes would shine like the sun during August.

He won't esitate to collect it with his mouth, tasting yet another one of your miracles. He wouldn't hold back the raw attitude taking over his mind, he simply couldn't.

«Assai v'aggio laudato,

madonna, in tutte parti

di bellezze ch'avete.»

When you two got together he thought he couldn't love you more, the same on your wedding day, but now he would simply let this love tear him apart he would still and always pray in your name.

In the morning he would wake you up gently, caressing you cheeks, watching as the eyes that caught his soul slowly open.

He would prepare breakfast for you, taking it directly in bed.

And every day will only be about you and you only.

Need a bath? Already prepped and warm amore.

You have swollen feet? A massage from him is mandatory.

Need to put the nursery together? Consider it done.

And don't get me started on the amount of stuff that he would buy for your unborn child.

He just wants to make sure everything will be ready for the big day.

But that's just a dream, playing tricks with his mind.

«Canzonetta novella,

va canta nova cosa;

lèvati da maitino

davanti a la più bella,

fiore d'ogn'amorosa,

bionda più ch'auro fino»

"Theo, darling, are you still here?" you ask him after two solid minutes of him staring at you, to the point that you were starting to feel suffocated by his gaze.

His pupils blown, and as his breathing increase, he finally snaps back from daydreaming.

But now, now it's been months of this agony, della sua mente completamente offuscata dal desiderio.

He just can't help himself anymore, he is a direct and honest person, he can't continue to keep this away from you.

And with the most serious expression known to mankind and his eyes firmly buried into yours, he doesn't hesitate anymore:
"Facciamo un figlio amore, facciamolo adesso, non ne posso più d'aspettare, non posso più nemmeno aspettare che er mondo faccia n'altro giro" he would tell you in one breath.

You kiss him delicately, "Allora non esitare, non aspettare che la luna fugga Mr.Nott"

"Ai suoi ordini Signora Nott"

"Ti amo tantissimo" the last thing he would tell you before finally letting himself completely go, completamente perso in questo amore, si che possa ammirare te, te sospirare e te amare, te soltanto.

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—-—

Okay so here's the translation of the poem, the canzonetta, which as I said it's called "Meravigliosamente", in English “Wonderfully":

My ask box is open!✨🥂

<- part II

-> part III?

[memoriashell]

with age comes wisdom ( or at the very least, entirely unneccessary celebrations )

Characters /  Pairing: Fukawa Touko / Naegi Komaru ( focused ), Syo / Komaru, Warriors of Hope

crossposted on ao3

Notes: happy @tokomaruweek week everyone!! i love these funky wlw so i am going to try and have some stuff up this week, but i probably won’t manage to do the whole week / i'll go back to do the ones i miss afterwards? we’ll see.

for today i decided to combine the birthdays + warriors of hope prompts.

i’m also just ignoring canon’s timeline bc god knows i did not want to figure out that bs sorry dr3 ily but i dont love you that much just know it is somewhere post sdr2 / pre dr3 probably?

i also use they/them for syo ( nonbinary hc ) and while there aren’t any specific trauma mentions, given the group of characters this revolves around, there’s refrences to the fact they have shit lives. and some lighthearted murder jokes and self-deprication?

Summary: nothing says happy birthday quite like babysitting her ( favorite ) group of brats

It’s just her luck that this would happen— a coincidence for sure, but that doesn’t make Touko any happier about the whole thing.

This is the situation: they don’t usually see the ( former ) Warriors of Hope much. The kids stay on their side of Towa, and her and Komaru tend to stick closer to the adults. The adults are the ones that need to be kept under supervision, in her opinion. Not that the kids are blameless, but is there much reasoning with brainwashed kids? No. Of course not. Are the adults also practically brainwashed and hard to reason with. Yes. Would this all be easier if Future Foundation was involved? Yes. Yes it would, but for obvious reasons they are not ( they have all agreed to omit some information from public record for the sake of those involved, and right now Naegi’s stunt with the Remnants have Future Foundation’s attention away from them ).

Sometimes Komaru takes some of the things that they get over to the kids because things are rough enough as it is, and Syo will go with her because they can keep the Monokuma off their tracks better. Or you know, because Syo is generally more helpful to Komaru when it comes to things like that. She’s not jealous.

Allegedly— Touko does not know this for a fact herself since she hadn’t been fronting, and only learns this second hand while she is in the middle of typing up a report to send back to the foundation— Kotoko is the one to bring it up, casually handing off some of her share of the cookies Komaru had made for them, to Jataro. An early birthday present, she had said ( pointedly ignoring Nagisa, who’d pointed out she had given Jataro the ones he hated ), before turning to Komaru to ask if they could throw a party. A small one. With no murder, because that would be ‘totally not adorbs’. And no adults, because they stink ( it goes unsaid that Komaru and Touko themselves are the clear exception to this rule, which is some kind of progress, supposedly ).

That seemed like a fairly reasonable request, according to Komaru, who’s only response was to ask when his birthday was. And then accidentally lets it slip that hey, that’s the week that Touko-chan’s birthday is! And that’s how Touko finds out that apparently, she’s having a joint birthday party with the kids because Masaru managed to turn a party into a competition, somehow? Touko has no clue what that actually entails, because Komaru refuses to elaborate.

( Also, at one point before leaving, Komaru had tried asking Jataro if there was anything she could get him; to which he’d remarked, “A new mask?”

...Yeah, Touko can’t blame her for not knowing what to say to that, even if Komaru had spun it as not the most self-deprecating thing he could have said, which was an improvement? She personally disagrees, but whatever )

Here, she should point out the obvious fact that she does not want to really celebrate her birthday, let alone have a party for it. Because those kind of things lean so far into the zone of things Touko doesn’t really know how to handle, that it makes her close to uncomfortable. And if— if she had humored herself in imagining how she would ideally spend her birthday this year; quite frankly, it would be very quiet and boring and only with Komaru. Not with a group of ten year olds. Ten year olds that she might think of rather fondly, but ten year old brats all the same.

( It’s not like she has any alive friends: if Touko acknowledges the other survivors, justifiably they are too busy with more important matters to fuss over a birthday. They aren’t kids anymore. Some of them hadn’t ever really been like normal kids to begin with, but that’s besides the point )

“Look at the bright side,” She starts, and she bites back a snide what bright side and remark about how that’s all Komaru’s good at ( it’s not. She’s more talented than she gives herself credit for ). “None of you probably have really positive memories when it comes to birthdays or parties, so even if it isn’t the greatest, at least the bar to please should be pretty easy to clear!”

Touko thinks she probably gets the point she is trying to make here, but Komaru’s complete and utter lack of tact doesn’t make for the best delivery. “Are you trying to...to make me feel bad? S-So sorry my life was complete sh-shit growing up.”

“No! That’s not what I meant at all!” Komaru pouts at her. “Does that mean you’re not interested in having a party?”

It’s not like she’s so cold-hearted and selfish that she’s going to say no to that. Well, no, that’s not quite true, Touko might be just that; but it doesn’t really matter either way, because Komaru gives her best kicked dog impression, so she says ( a less than enthusiastic ) no, she doesn’t mind, yes you can have a party; even if she thinks she’ll probably regret that choice.

Okay, if you are to be honest with herself, some part of Touko that never got to be a normal child doesn’t entirely mind the thought of a party, even if it’s...not the most ideal scenario, the impractical fantasy situation that lives in her head. But if she says that aloud, Komaru will either take it too seriously, use it as an excuse to celebrate things more often, or something else that probably has consequences that she doesn’t want to think about. And also admittedly because if she says it aloud, she has to acknowledge it, and maybe she doesn't want to get her hopes up over something as stupid as a party.

( There’s also the fact that, deep in her extremely repressed memories of Hope’s Peak before the tragedy, she does remember parties. Birthdays. Celebrating things with her classmates, if somewhat forcibly so. She has no desire to remember those things, so those feelings remain repressed with most of her trauma )

It’s easy to not acknowledge any of that when she has to deal with the sudden onslaught of a headache that is Syo forcing themselves into their shared headspace, hand rubbing at her temples. Not trying to co-front, she can tell they aren’t trying to snatch control from her ( for now ), just forcing her to pay attention to them. It works, even though Touko has told them to not do this specifically because of how irritating it is for her.

I could scare the kids into cooperating? It’ll save us a headache and a half! Syo offers, maybe too eagerly. Their ideas of scare and cooperate are probably different from her own. Still. She also knows Syo is aware of more than they are letting on, given that they had been present when this conversation had occurred, but she doesn’t think she’ll get much out of them in that regard.

No. Touko tells them firmly. It’ll be counterproductive, Komaru won’t let you do that, and they’re all traumatized enough without you adding to that.

Boo, you sure about that? Consider it a birthday gift from me!

No. She repeats herself sternly, and she feels them withdraw a bit after that. Ugh, Syo hasn’t had a chance to front much recently, now that she thinks about it. Since they usually only take over when she’s in danger, and she hasn’t really been in ( as much ) danger now that things are starting to calm down. Well, relatively speaking. Syo is probably just looking for an excuse to be allowed to front, since it’s probably rough going from being very present to rarely getting the chance to be out: akin to going cold turkey on an addiction. That’s not exactly her fault ( or theirs ), but maybe she’ll ask Komaru if she’d be okay with hanging out with Syo more, if only to placate them a little, before they try something more drastic.

“Everything okay? That was Syo, right?” She hears Komaru ask after a few minutes, and Touko rubs her eyes and blinks. “You looked a little frustrated.”

She considers telling her the truth, but no point in getting her concerned over nothing. She’d like to figure out what she wants to negotiate with Syo firstm so she’ll leave that conversation for another time. “Fine. They just...ugh, just wanted to make sure I was okay with it.”

“And you are okay with it, right? You aren’t agreeing just because I asked?” Touko thinks she begged more than she asked, but she’s pretty sure Komaru will only sulk if she brings that up.

“I wouldn’t let you if, if I was really opposed to it.” Probably. She...trusted Komaru, or something like that, so she figures she’d probably be more honest with herself and not mentally torture herself by putting herself through something she has no interest in. “But...what are you even planning on doing to celebrate? I can’t im-imagine we’ve really got much around here that we can use for a party.”

“Ah. Uhm.” Komaru looks a little embarrassed at that. “About that. I was kind of hoping you and Syo might help pitch in. You don’t mind, right?”

You’re hopeless, she wants to mutter, but—

Yeah!!!! Syo wakes right back up upon being mentioned, no sense of self awareness at all, much to your annoyance, but it’s not like you completely disagree with the feeling that is shared between you two.

“You— You really bit off more than you could chew, hm...? Good thing this wasn’t supposed t-t-to be a surprise.” She quips, leaning over to peer at the paper she’d been making her notes on. “We’ll help, just tell us what we...what we need to do.”

“Thank you, Touko-chan! And Syo too!” Komaru sounds somewhere mixed between grateful and relieved, and casually plants a kiss on her cheek as if it’s no big deal—

She said my name last, so the kiss was for me! She knows Syo is intentionally trying to provoke her and get a rise out of her ( yeah, a rising sense of jealousy ), but puts that aside for the time being because Komaru’s blabbering on like nothing happened.

“I know we probably won’t have the whole day to ourselves to do whatever—” Correctomundo, Dekomaru! “— but I’ll make it up to you on your birthday, okay? We’ll do something that you want.”

“You don't...there’s no need for that.” She forces out between gritted teeth, trying to ignore the flustered feeling in the pit of her stomach, chewing around a fingernail ( what an unattractive sight to follow that ). “Because— ugh, don’t repeat th-this, okay? What I want to do is spend time with...with you. That’s all. So don’t go...you don’t need to go out of your way trying to do s-s-something over the top. Stick to being normal.”

“Really? You’re sure?” Komaru sounds a little uncertain, but happy enough to pull her into a hug, despite her grumbled complaint. “Oh, but Syo has their own birthday, don’t they? So I should probably ask them what they want as well, right?”

“Don’t make me repeat m-myself. It’s embarrassing...” Touko huffs, but lets herself be held against her side, just for a moment. It’s nice, though she won’t admit it ( it is better than any real gift that she could receive ). Syo is kind enough to back off long enough to let her have this moment. “You can ask them later— focus on, on what you need to plan.”

By something short of a miracle, they are able to pull together a party that is not a complete disaster, even if Komaru probably has a point when she says the bar to clear is a pretty low standard for all parties involved. The closest she has to an actual concern is the very narrowly avoided fight that almost breaks out when Masaru and Kotoko fight over which one of them should give their present first— which is apparently the competitive aspect of the party? It’s probably meant to be heartwarming, if it were not such a foreign thing to Touko. Which Nagisa is quick to put an end to: because this is how they would treat Monaca, which is not inherently healthy, and she’s glad that at least one of them can recognize that fact now. Jataro spends the entirety of the fight trying to hide behind her long skirt and, relatable kid, and rubs the top of his head while Komaru tries to both scold them for fighting and appease them because they’re, well. Kids. Who still need to learn some things and have time to unlearn things.

So yeah, it’s a good party— for not being on her actual birthday, she’ll consider it one of the better memories Touko has associated with the day. The start of many, she’d like to hope.

[thecringefailintherye]

Oliver! (1968) Live (re) watch!

i have already seen oliver!, but not in ages, so i decided to watch it again, enjoy

very long post warning

fuckin hell these opening credits are LONG

i love the fact instrumentals of songs in the movie are playing

i have chocolate popcorn, apple lucozade and oliver! on, life is good

yes i know mark lester is oliver ive seen this like 20 times can i watch the film now

OH ABOUT FUCKING TIME

god is love

IS IT WORTH THE WAITING FOR IF WE LIVE TILL 84 ALL WE EVER GET IS GRUELL

i forgot how much of a banger food glorious food is

LOOK AT BABY MARK LESTER 🥺🥺🥺

ads in middle of movie be like

its harry secombe!

AMENNNN

oliver gets bullied the movie

look at this poor kid

MOREE????????

oh yes oliver i love this song

O L I V E R

poor kid

without any bannister yikes

the one who named him........O-L-IV-ERRR

oh were outside now

olivers just been kicked out oh shit

but on the plus side he has a cute ass hat on

BOY FOR SAY AL

look at oliver 🥺 he deserves better

SOWERBERRY MORE LIKE SHITTERBERRY

theres a severe lack of thats your funeral and i shall scream

noah claypole more like noah clayprick

“perhaps... if i had a tall hat?” BABEY

HES GOT HIS TALL HAT ON YES OLIVER

oliver said dab on them haters from your old gaff youre a funeral advisor now and theyre still homeless

DONT INSULT HIS MUM FUCK YOU NOAH

YES OLIVER KILL HIM

yes stuff the nine year old in a coffin and sit on it well done

"OLIVAH ??" "Yes im here: ((("

ITS MEAT!

oliver deserves better man 

im gonna cry and were like 25 minutes in.

ik its not mark singing but whoever it is CAN SING WTF

i want to give him a hug

OH SHIT HES RUNNING AWAY

hes in the lettuce

LONDON YOU MADE IT !

yes oliver trains exist

DODGER!!!

whach you starin at aint ya ever seen a toff

the beak

look at lil jack wild

me more hintimate friends

cockney accent™️

the artful dodga

CONSIDERR YOURSSELF AT HOEME COSNIDER YOURSWLF OEN OF THE FAMILY !!!!!!!!!!

im sorry i love this song

look this scene is awesome, but it would be COMPLETE with charley oh wait he was demoted to extra and everything interesting abt him was given to dodger

he should have gotten the nobody tries to be ladeeda or uppity bit I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL

this cast is BIG

okay i am a Charger Enthusiast but do we all agree there is something oddly homosexual about oliver and dodger in this song

note how dodger is scared of the police FORESHADOWING

ive taken to this SO STRONGITSCLEARWEREGOINGTOGETALONG

how many extras is this ???? yall better be gettin paid

its dodga comin up

this set is sraight out of the book i love it

CHARLEY MATE IM SORRY THEY MADE YOU AN EXTRA 

“oh not again” does dodger just always show up with random workhouse kids 

ah yes fagin the character whos still a negative jewish stereotype

more and more big cast

THESE SAUSAGES ARE MOULDY! (am i going to freak out whenever charley does anything because i love him? yes)

stfu drink your gin

is this a laundry?? no fam 

THE BEST FUCKING SONG IN THIS MUSICAL

IN THIS LIFE ONE THING COUNTS

sorry if i dont add to this until pick a pocket or two is done bc its a straight banger

this song is EVERYTHING 

hard at work lol ok

did he make those himself??? no

couple a wipes

EMBROIDERED THEM??? no

petition for all oliver twist adaptations to refer to charley as master bates like the book and for him to have actual lines and not have his actor switched at least three times

i dont even now who charley is at this point because his actor is switched many a time im just gonna say purple blazer kid is charley

anyway charley bates supremacy

whos bill sikes??? NO

fuck bill all my homies hate bill

rum tum tum is a banger

go bed now

take your hat off in bed dodger

movie fagin has rights

fagin leaving where will he go

BET IS THAT YOU

FUCK OFF BILL NO ONE LIKES YOU 

NANCY NANCY HES HERE !!!!!! bet deserves everything and more ily 💖

NANCYYYY!!!!!!

its a fine life more like its a banger

wheres all of bets lines gone

bet 🤝 charley (being demoted to extras)

its not funny anyore bet.. bet girl please sing youre the best fucking thing about this song

such a happy song about domestic abuse

THERE SHE IS THATS MY GIRL BET I FUCKING LOVE YOU

bullsye rights!

i hate how this movie made fagin more symathetic but he’s still a “greedy jew” stereotype

oliver?????

at this moment fagin knew he fucked up

nancy you deserve better than bill

oh hi dodger forgot you existed

and the rest of you except oliver

ah yes charley “sausages” bates i missed you

THESE FUCKING KIDS THEY ALL LOVE BET AND NANCY MY HEART

im a regular gent i am. no dodger you arent

why is “permit me to assist you across the road” so fucking funny

pov dodgers back on his bullshit so you have to pretend to be a horse and cart for him

not “sir artful” 😭😭😭

anyfink for youu

WHAT FISTICUFFS???!!!

i feel sorry for the child extras man theyve prob had to film this scene like ten times

THESE KIDS CAN SING

 the boys dancing with eachother is too fucking wholesome i love this

again, movie fagin rights

weed riissk lifee and limmbb

you promised we could go see the angin!!!!!

ats on boys time were off

THIS IS MY FAVOURITE SONG

HOW COULD WE LET HOW COULD WE FORGET OUR DEAR OLD FAGIN WORRY!!

mate that aint single file did you not hear him

am i the only one who can hear london bridge is falling down in the back??

our pockets hold a watch of gold that chimes upon the hour!!! a wallet fat an old mans hat!!! the jewels from the tower!!!

WE KNOW THE NOSEY POLICEMEENNNN

dodger and charley (i am SURE charley is purple blazer kid even if havent seen this film in ages) are GETTING INTO THIS

oliver 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

movie fagin rights pt 27238227

DODGER OLIVER COME ON!!!!!!!!! alright dude chill

ARE YALL SEEING THIS SHIT, I WAS RIGHT, I TOLD YOU THAT THE LAD IN THE PURPLE BLAZER WHO SINGS “a wallet fat an old mans hat” WAS CHARLEY BATES AND GUESS WHAT HE FUCKING IS. I WAS RIGHT, PURPLE BLAZER KID IS CHARLEY YOU CAN LEAVE NOW

no dont were only an hour in

three kids on the back of the omnibus what will they do

dodger and charley said be gay do crimes

ah shit now look what youve gotten us into dodger

IT WASNT EVEN OLIVER IT WAS CHARLEY AND DODGER GO AFTER THEM

are dodger and charley straight up framing oliver for a crime they commited while also helping him escape

yes they are why are we surprised 

i hate to break it to you dodger but hiding oliver in a meat sack doesnt work

OLIVERS ON THE ROOF????

charley and dodger got oliver into this mess and they are not going to get him out

WHY DIDNT YOU LOOK AFTER HIM????? right calm down fagin

how could i help it :((((

no bill!

stan nancy

“two other boys stole it” no shit

BROWNLOW !

run bitch run

right intermission time now

AND WE’RE BACK!

entr acte

who will buyyy

strawberry girl is carrying this

oliver owns my heart pt 278983728938728

this is a banger wtf

okay its done now right

right?????

UHH BILL???? DODGER???? BITCH WHY TF ARE YOU HERE

have bill fagin nancy and the boys been stalking oliver???

NO SHE WONT FAGIN!

shit.

fuck bill

this scene is far more sadder when you think of how the boys have just seen the only woman they see as a mother figure been hit to the flo or, im not crying, you are

as long as he needs me :(

FUCK YOU BILL

rose maylie is that you?!

look at lil oliver!!

BILL FUCK OFF

i hate bill

“look at his togs! he’s got books too!” charley and dodger are my emotional support kids

anyway have i mentioned i hate bill, bc i hate bill.

I REALLY REALLY HATE BILL

even fagin aka the guy whos keeping these kids as pickpockets has more morals than bill

WE STAY CALM!!

no bill i havent heard a dying chicken

act one was just childish antics now we have THIS

fuck bill

YOURE TELLING ME THE BOYS WATCHED THAT????

jack wild is a banging actor. he genuinely looks terrified 🥺 

this film.. 

a mans got a heart hasnt he?? yes you do!!!

a full song dedicated to movie fagin rights?? did i ghostwrite this?? probably

banger

ithinkidbetterthinkitoutagain!

villains theives and nine year olds

MR BUMBLE?????!!!!!!!!!!

fuck bill pt72898376728909878199

bill youre traumatising him

cmon nance do something!!

also completely forgot abt this but uh does monks exist in this i forgot bc we have had no mentions of him yet

nancy tell him who bill is!!!

bullseye deserves better

uhm what is going on

bill sikes more like bill yikes

oliver what are you doing

BILL TERRIFIES ME

FUCK

omg oom pah pah????

leave oliver alone bill hes like nine

oh banger

OOM PAH PAH THATS HOW IT GOES!!!!!!!!!

just asking are nancy and bet lesbians bc they look it

COULD IT BE OOM PAH PAHHHHHH

god i love this song

IT SHOOOOOWSSSSSS

its the same oom pah pah

“She was from the country but now shes up a gumtree she let a fella feed her then lead her a long” foreshadowiinnggg

OOM PAH PAH! OOM PAH PAH! OOM PAH PAH!

nancy is so fucking smart

getting the whole pub singing and dancing to smuggle out oliver? clever

fuck

bill.. no.. bill.. bill????

FUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKFUCKC

BILL GET OFF HER

NANCY NO

HE STRAIGHT UP COMMIT MURDER AGAINST THE NICEST CHARACTER

BROWNLOW DO YOU NOT HEAR NOTHING

nancy deserved a better death than to be killed by bill fuck bill

EVEN BULLSEYE HATES YOU BILL

ARE THEY ACCUSING BULLSEYE OF MURDER

FUCK YOU BILL

movie fagin rights + fuck bill combo?

youre telling me fagin had an ESCAPE ROUTE??? AT THE BOTTOM OF THE HOUSE THING??? THE WHOLE TIME???

BILL DONT KILL THE CHILD

BILL

fuck, well. #

“WHAT DO I DO!?” “LIVE UP TO YOUR NAME, DODGE ABOUT”

ten quid says dodgers been caught

oh no all fagins shit is gone

BILL DONT KILL THE CHILD PT 2

FUCK YOU BILL

GOD I HATE HIM

OLIVER MATE ARE YOU OK

never have i been so happy to see a character die

rest in shit bill

hi dodger thought you got caught n went to australia 

god, this film is so fucking good.

reviewing the situation 2.0 goes hard

MOVIE. FAGIN. RIGHTS!

FAGIN YOU CAN BE A GOOD MAN YOU KNOW YOU CAN

DODGER??????????

IM TOTALLY NOT CRYING RN

FAGIN NO DONT TAKE IT

FUCKING PLOTTWIST

IT MADE IT LOOK LIKE FAGIN WAS GONNA GIVE THE WALLET BACK TO DODGER BUT NO

once the villain you’re the villain to the end

i completely forgot abt this scene since i’ve been reading the oliver twist book and in that dodger gets arrested and fagin gets hanged but here they get away?

god this is bittersweet

I THINK WE’D OUGHT TO THINK IT OUT AGAIN!!!!!

thats where the film should have ended, i get olivers the main character but it ending on dodger and fagin walking out into the sunset is such a pleasing ending man

oliver gets his happy ending abt time

YES CONSIDER YOURSELF AND BE BACK SOON (THE BIGGEST BANGERS IN THE FILM) CREDITS SONGS!!

well.. that was a journey and half

[farawaysoph-ie]

Incoherent Gideon the Ninth Whatever

So as some of you may have noticed (...) I finished Gideon the Ninth some hours ago, then went to sleep (bc apparently I still need sleep, amateur) but after waking up I'm still #shook.

So here's one of my long nosense lists (FULL SPOILERS ahead):

The whole set-up was bound to be OTP material: we spent our lives hating each other but now I gotta protect your tiny necromancer ass even if you tell me nothing and people are dying

Who was gonna tell me that necromancers, swords AND space went so well with each other?

Also the covers for these books are SO. BEAUTIFUL?

Gideon I'm-gonna-make-a-dirty-joke-even-if-everyone-ignores-me-and-people-are-dying Nav

Nav was a Niner name

Because I hate you (sure sugarlips, sure)

Griddle (really Reverend Daughter, really?)

“Ten thousand years of tradition, Griddle.” “I don’t have ten thousand years of tradition, bitch”

This. This is were I realized I would end up selling my soul for Gideon.

This and every time she put on her SUNGLASSES

"Gideon had nowhere to go and nothing to be, and no orders and no goals[...]."

When she punched the Third cavalier #draghim

"The hard moue of his mouth told her that he was used to making people feel that way, but also that he definitely used lip balm."

The things Gideon noticed, I swear

"He had the eyes of a very beautiful person, trapped in resting bitch face."

I'll never be over Palamedes Sextus

Harrow regained consciousness just to tell Palamedes he was not the greatest necromancer of his generation, and if this doesn't tell something about her, I don't know what does

"“This calls for rigor, Nav.” “Maybe rigor … mortis,” said Gideon, who assumed that puns were funny automatically."

Gideon Nav Talking Time

"Don’t go down there solo. Don’t die in a bone. I am your creature, gloom mistress. I serve you with fidelity as big as a mountain, penumbral lady."

“I am your sworn sword, night boss.”

"Gideon’s mouth was about to round out the words “bone empress” before she realised what had been said."

I never thought I would one day read something like "Teacher said that the facility was chocka with ghosts and you might die?"

Gideon "ghosts and you might die" Nav

Are we going to talk about Gideon's biceps?

“The arms kind of looked like swords. I want to fight it.” (we truly are blessed)

"My brain is always yelling at you"

When Harrow compliments Gideon sword fighting? (Asdfghjklkjhgfdsa)

Gideon: I just want to eat and sleep like a normal person

Harrow, who runs on darkness and bones apparently: what do you mean?

"I need you to trust me"

"I need you to be trustworthy"

"Too much of this shit, and they’d end up friends."

Just make out already.

I just loved Gideon fake vow of silence because for half of the book everyone considered her this fierce serious warrior nun, but this clashed so much with her inner thoughts omg

So basically "Gideon longed to say: What the fuck?"

Gideon being totally cool with Harrow sucking her life energy, #rideordie more like #rideanddie

“Nice to know that the other Houses are also creeps,”

"Why?" "Probably because you asked."

Gideon is the definition of pure of heart and dumb of ass, seriously

"“Ha-ha,” said Gideon, “first time you didn’t call me Griddle,” and died."

"Take your hand off my wif... I mean my cavalier" that's how it went right?

"Gideon wanted to say, Nonagesimus, quit the sacred-bat-black-vestal act[...]"

The respect for the Sixth House that reached the maximum when Pal and Cam destroyed the second house and served the bullies justice

DEATH FIRST TO VULTURES AND SCAVANGERS.

The power of this scene

"“You don’t talk like—how I thought you might talk"", bless the teens, I didn't understand why they were always insulted when described, but maybe it was just my sleep deprived and non-native speaker impression

"Eat me, milk man"

When Gideon and Harrow were fighting about Dulcinea, I suffered

And the stuff about the head, seriously Gideon was almost going to kill her bone empress

“It’s nearly ten thousand years old, if that’s what you mean.” “Well, I’m not,” she said. “So … what the fuck, basically.” “The ultimate question,”

"Camilla was nobody’s fool, though how she’d cuffed Harrow was going to be a tale of terror for another day."

"Gideon had prepared beforehand a fuck-you salvo so long and so loud that Harrow would have to be taken away to be killed; but then Harrow added, “Please.”"

THE POOL SCENE

"“Too many words,” said Gideon confidentially. “How about these: One flesh, one end, bitch.” The Ninth House necromancer flushed nearly black. Gideon tilted her head up and caught her gaze: “Say it, loser.” “One flesh—one end,” Harrow repeated fumblingly, and then could say no more."

Yes, yes, of course I died.

“If anything moves—” “Yaaas, I know. Let it head for Camilla.” (Gideon was wild until the end, a queen)

"I have you. We bring hell." (the tears)

"With Harrow there, suddenly it was easy, and her horror of the monster turned to the ferocious joy of vengeance. Long years of warfare meant that they each knew exactly where the other would stand—every arc of a sword, every jostling scapula. No hole in the other’s defences went unshielded. They had never fought together before, but they had always fought, and they could work in and around each other without a second’s thought."

I'm sorry but did Gideon take on a freacking Lyctor with just her sword, a broken kneecap and other wounds?

And Harrow waking up "Step off, bitch", like not on my watch

When Gideon said "I'm just me" I swear I heard my heart breaking

"Her hands were not shaking anymore" YES BUT WHAT ABOUT ME SOBBING?

The whole scene of them fighting the Lyctor, like Gideon being her smartass self until the end I cannot even

If no one ever tells my hallucination "I cannot conceive of a universe without you in it." then what's even the point

"See you one the flip side, sugarlips"

A very honorable mention:

"“He say anything?” Gideon wavered. “He said to tell you he loved you,” she said. “What? No, he didn’t.” “Okay, no, sorry. He said—he said you knew what to do?”"

This was just so real and Palamedes and​ Camilla were #squadgoals.

Now all I'm left with are overthinking stuff and making up theories.

Like there is NO WAY IN HELL Gideon is dead. My girl survived killing gas when she was weeks old. She woke up sore from something that should have sent her in a coma. And the fake Dulcinea telling she knew another Gideon once. Also you all suggested that the Emperor might be the evil one here (excuse my naive self, I'm slow with this stuff we don't have many conspiracy theories where I live). And hell yeah, I'm on board, let's break the shackles of the girl in the Lost Tomb and overthrow an Empire. I mean how could the Undying King not find any body, I mean Judith was dying and there were no others necromancers left on the planet.

And now my wait begins. For now:

Death first to vultures and scavengers, losers.

[irwintry]

What Happens in Paris

Warnings: swearing, alcohol

Author’s Note: STAYs in paris!!!!!!!!!!!! anyway sorry i’m so Bad at writing anything good

also request for part two k bc i have ideas but like, i didnt want this to be so long

Word Count: 5k

part two

“It’s like, ten bucks, mate.”

Luke snorted. “For a fuckin’ scam, yeah.”

“Ya aren’t curious?”

“Y’know me,” he said. “I have a pair of five-hundred-dollar shoes in my closet that I’ve never worn. If I was curious, I’d be sittin’ in there with my head in my hands like an eager kid. Not doin’ it.”

Calum rolled his eyes. “Don’t you wanna know if you and that chic are gonna get back together? Just ten bucks.”

Luke sighed and glanced over at the pink neon “Psychic” sign that illuminated the stairs before them. The night had been rough–– breaking up and binge drinking followed by a muzzy stroll in back neighborhoods he had never visited before. The vibrant letters swirled and eddied around, and before Luke could catch himself, he began walking down the steps.

Calum let out a laugh. “All right, here we fuckin’ go.”

There was an overwhelming musty scent that filled Luke’s nostrils as stepped into the small apartment. He imagined it hardly smelled of anything at all, but his imagination was so strong, and the toxins in his blood were too intense. The couches and chairs were covered in large silk sheets and tapestries, and soft jazz music was playing from an Anker speak on the coffee table.

“Celebrities,” a low female voice said from a kitchen. She stepped out, tea kettle in hand and a smirk on her face. “That’s not a first.”

She was younger than what Luke expected, but a few laugh lines decorated the corners by her eyes. However, she spoke like a middle-aged smoker from Brooklyn. Her hair was in thick, red curls, and he imagined the difficulty of taming it–– he had trouble taming his own curls on the occasion.

“Take a seat,” she said, setting down the kettle on a doily in the center of a table. “You need it.”

Luke was unsure of the woman, but Calum was more eager to have his life spelled out for him. He nearly kicked the chair out from under him as he sat on the wicker beside a big, dusty fern.

“Tea?”

“Yes––

“No,” said Luke, his eyes narrowing in on his friend next to him.

The woman chuckled and began pouring hot water into two teacups. “Earl gray for you,” she said to Calum, and then she looked at Luke. “And rose for you.”

There was a knot forming in the pit of his stomach, and it grew larger as the teacup slid in his direction. The woman, who Luke would later know as Gina, sat across from the two of them and smiled. She spoke with her hands, and he found himself focusing in on the fluidity of the motions.

“I like the energy in this room,” she said. “It’s–– it’s light and positive. But there are some... interruptions. Like the positive is interacting with a negative, and it’s creating this ugly––aaughh––amalgamation.” Her eyes fell to Luke. “You. You haven’t been a good person.”

“What?” he asked, his voice reaching a high register while his friend laughed beside him.

The woman grinned. He didn’t like her grin. “Don’t act so surprised. Y-you have good qualities, eh, y’know? You love people and you always have. But you feel a lot of power. And, look at ya, honey. Money is a big part of that. You live in a constant cycle of excitement and stress, and the people that come and go in your life are greatly affected by you. But ya haven’t been good to them!”

“This is fuckin’ bullshit,” said Luke as he stood. “I don’t need this.”

“And you’re sad!”

“What?”

“But you’re too sad to realize you’re sad,” she continued. “There is a person in your life who is conflictin’ you. I’m sensing that they don’t mean much to you righ’ now, but the more you are around them, the more you will question who you are. Drink your fuckin’ tea.”

Luke huffed and returned to his seat. “What the fuck is happening,” he muttered, but it wasn’t a question. Calum was still stifling a laugh.

“They don’t like you right now,” the woman continued. “It is radiating off of you like fuckin’ UV rays, honey. They will mess with your feelings as you struggle to figure out your own. And–– “

“What is this shit?” Luke asked. “Like, what are you even telling me? Why is this person important to me?”

The woman chuckled darkly. “You’re going to fall in love with them, honey.”

-

“Who the fuck invited you?”

“I the fuck invited me,” you replied, hands folded across your chest as you brushed by the tall blond. “I’m here to see Cal, ya dipshit. I’m getting his house key.”

Luke let out a huff and pushed the front door shut behind him. The night before tour was a night full of traditions, and nearly all of his close friends participated in the so-called rituals. You, however, were not his friend. You were Ashton and Michael’s, and especially Calum’s, but you were not, under any circumstance, Luke’s friend. So, of all nights for you to drop by unexpectedly, it had to be the night of pre-tour traditions.

“Still didn’t fucking invite you,” he called after you, but you had already made your way into the kitchen where the group gathered. “Jesus fuckin’–– “

A loud chorus of “aye”’s and “hey”’s filled the room as you entered. He ambled in after you, his shoulders tight while he watched you go around and hug the people he was closest to. They all loved you, he knew that. And, he hated that.

“Ya didn’t tell me you invited Y/N,” said Ashton. He nudged his friend teasingly before adding in a wink. “When d’ya get the hots for her?”

Luke glared at him. “I’d run onto the 405 naked before I would ever consider even hugging her.”

“Damn, ‘kay then.” Ashton chuckled. He walked back towards the kitchen island where their mates were eating.

The traditions were light. They were simple, relaxing things that the band never had the chance to do, like movie nights and large orders of Uber Eats. Most nights, they went out and experienced life like typical chumps would do. But pre-tour traditions meant R&R, and you were not R&R.

To Luke, it seemed as though the rest of his friends enjoyed your company. His blood boiled at the thought of his night being ruined by you. His friends would tell him to avoid you and not let you spoil his fun, but he simply could avoid the frustration building while you laughed at stupid jokes. He would be laughing to had he actually cared for your company. If he kicked you out, it would ruin the night for his friends. Because of you, Luke really could not win.

And then, you said, “well, I gotta bounce. Am I dropping by your place at around nine tomorrow, Cal?”

To this, Luke nearly beamed.

“Nine on the dot,” responded Calum as he tilted his drink towards you.

“Cool beans.”

Another friend interjected the conversation. “C’mon, you can stay for a bit, can’t you? Maybe Luke will finally be the one to win the tattoo draw. Bet you’d pay to see that.”

Luke could feel perspiration under his arms at the thought of you staying and being touched by a needle.

“Tattoo draw?” you asked, dangling the key to Calum’s house between your fingers.

“Tattoo draw,” Michael affirmed. “Whoever won, well, lost the draw last time picks a tattoo for the next person who’s drawn. They’re small tattoos, but they’re often fuckin’ shit. I have a tattoo of Cal’s response to his dick pick on the back of my thigh.”

“That was so long ago,” someone piped.

You chortled. “No offense, but these pre-tour traditions are kinda–– “

“Oh, they’re lame,” interrupted Michael, “we know. But they’re fucking funny when you’re high out of your mind.”

You glanced over to Luke, who felt as though he was sweating like a pig, then back at the group of friends before you. “I’m in.”

-

Luke had contributed $200 to the pool. Throughout the past few years, the total money in the pot increased as the band’s fame continued moving up. And still, even after all of this time, he had been fortunate to not have his name drawn. The only bonus was the cash prize–– and you were also inked for the rest of your life.

But it wasn’t all that bad. It would be a memory, and Luke was fond of memories.

The anger that followed your presence had begun to fade as the night went on. Thoughts were foggy, words were garbled, and laughter filled the concrete walls and penetrated the thick, cloudy rooms. Plenty of crap foods had been consumed, plus two bottles of whiskey, by the time names were drawn.

You were right, Luke thought. Everything about the traditions were lame, and they were only routine because of their old teenage minds. The hazier he felt, the more he became lost in his own brain.

And then your name was drawn.

He had to keep himself from bursting into screeching laughter. It was easy to read the pure terror written all over your features from your wide eyes to your deep frown. Ashton, who had been last tour’s tattoo winner, nudged you playfully.

“’s all right, babe,” he said. “You don’t have to do it if you don’t wanna. Someone will be glad to do it for ya, I’m sure.”

You stared at the money pool on the coffee table before you. “I get all of that?”

Ashton nodded.

“You promise the tattoo’ll be small?

“Microscopic.”

You sighed. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Luke kept quiet for the next half hour as the group waited for the arrival of the tattoo artist. He watched your face, how it contorted and how it relaxed. He was hyper-focused on every little line and detail of your skin, and it was all because of how your demeanor changed. You appeared vulnerable now, a stark contrast to what Luke had known for nearly a year. You were witty. You were always ready to tear someone down with words when necessary. But now, you were nervous. You weren’t the same.

It bothered him tremendously.

Things only went downhill from there. Ashton, being the cocky bloke he occasionally could be, had a brilliant idea.

“I know how much you love Luke,” he said, an odd smirk toying on his lips as he exchanged glances between the two of you. “I want you to get his name tattooed.”

Luke choked on his glass of whiskey.

You snorted. “Nope. That’s a funny one, Irwin.”

“No money for ya then.”

“I don’t even know how much is in there,” you said. Meanwhile, the artist looked less than pleased to be here, and Luke didn’t blame him.

Calum winced and said, “’bout four thousand, babe. It’s a pretty big one this year.”

You gaped, mouth falling wide as you glared at Luke, who, truth be told, had no say in the situation. As much as he didn’t want his name on your body, it would have been kind of funny otherwise.

“I’ll shoot you a proposition,” said Ashton, his foot landing on the chair beside your thigh so he could lean over you. “Instead of his full name, just get his initials. L-R-H.”

Luke hated this.

“That’s–– “ You looked at Luke again, almost as if you were waiting for his approval. He didn’t speak. ‘That’s not so bad.”

Ashton grinned.

“Where would I get it?”

“Under-boob!” a voice called out from behind Luke.

A few groans washed through the group, and even Luke felt upset with the suggestion. He hated you, but he didn’t hate you that much.

“You shut your fuckin’ face, Stevens,” you responded, and that caused Luke to smile. There was the old you.

Ashton shrugged. “Anywhere you want it.”

And then, after looking Luke dead in the eyes for the thousandth time that night, you smirked. Finally, a rush of confidence flooded over you, and it chilled him to his very core. He didn’t understand why it cut right through his chest, and then you said, “under-boob it is.”

Luke decided he would no longer hold anything back. He hated you through and through.

-

Luke kept his mouth shut when his friends mentioned you. He kept it shut when they called you and talked about inside jokes. He kept it shut when they drunkenly stated they missed you. But when the Paris tour date came around and you were seated at their brunch table, he couldn’t keep himself from saying, “why the fuck are you here?”

And his friends were quick to defend, just like Luke expected. At that moment, it finally hit him that it didn’t matter. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t be himself around you. It didn’t matter that he was the only one uncomfortable with your presence. It didn’t matter, because Luke finally realized he had no reason to feel this way. Yet he couldn’t shake the feeling.

Maybe he didn’t hate you. Maybe his blood just boiled because everyone loved you, and he didn’t love you. Maybe he found frustration in every one of your actions because he was the only one who couldn’t enjoy himself when you were there. Maybe he just had to take two seconds to get over himself and let others be happy.

Luke sunk in his seat, eyes glued on the condensation on the side of his mimosa glass while his friends chatted and laughed. He thumbed his napkin, powdered sugar coating his fingers once more. For the first time since knowing you, Luke felt guilty for treating you the way he did.

He didn’t speak for the next hour and a half. And, when he did speak, it was a word or two at a time, gaze cast to the roads once painted in the blood of the French Revolution. He wasn’t much up for going out on the town when night fell–– it was better he preserved his voice for the concert tomorrow anyway. Instead, he remained in his tiny hotel room, sweaty feet kicked up on the thousand-thread duvet while a French dubbed Iron Man 2 played on his television. At one point, he ordered himself room service, and the apple cobbler plus a sparkling bottle of white wine were too big for him to finish alone.

And somehow, as if it were fate, there was a soft knock on his door.

Luke stumbled over, slightly buzzed already as he looked through the dirty peephole to see you. He swung the door open.

“Why’re you here?” he asked, surprisingly without a swear. “Thought you were with the rest.”

You glanced behind him. “I smelled apple cobbler,” you said. A shrug and a smirk later, you made your way past him.

Luke rolled his eyes and shut the door behind him. “Didn’t invite you in.”

You were already sat on the opposite twin bed, hand reaching for the fancy bottle on the nightstand before taking a long swig of the bubbly drink.

“Why’re you here?” he repeated.

“I–– “ You let out a satisfied sigh and set the bottle down. “I got tired. Got in an Uber pool with this gorgeous dude who kept using the words très belle, and then I remembered you were home.”

Luke sat on his bed and quirked an eyebrow at you. “You got tired and came here? What, are you on crack?”

You laughed, and he kind of did, too.

“Y’hate me,” he said. “You’re not here without reason.”

You raised your hands in surrender. “Kay,” you said, “ya got me. I wanna make out with you. Have a lil bang-bang-bang action.”

Luke had to keep himself from chuckling again. “Shut the fuck up.”

You grinned; your eyes were brighter than he had ever seen them around him. The two of you were both a little tipsy, and he chose to blame that for him not being totally upset with you invading his quiet night.

Things fell silent for a moment, and he let himself get lost in the foreign dialogue of Tony Stark and Pepper Potts.

“Why do you hate me?”

Luke’s head snapped over to you. You were relaxed, legs spread on the leg before you with your back against the headboard, and you were still facing the television. The bottle of wine was now in between your thighs.

“I wanted to be your friend so badly,” you said. “When I got your number, I put a little heart next to your name. And then, you never answered me when I tried to text you. You started rolling your eyes at everything I said, even when I was just walkin’ up to greet you. I thought my occasional teasing was just harmless. Is that–– is that why you hate me?”

Luke frowned. He had no idea what to say, especially since he couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, and you couldn’t even look at him.

“I-I guess I just need you to tell me that my efforts are pointless,” you mumbled, hands reaching out to pick up the bottle from between your legs. “I feel stupid even bein’ around ya now.”

“No,” he said, “I don’t hate you. I’m sorry.”

Finally, you looked his way. “Let’s get drunk.”

The night muddled through, and to Luke’s surprise, he hadn’t had simple fun like that in ages. In your beautiful drunken stupor, you spoke your best French, although it came out as slurred gibberish while you danced around to the soundtrack from the movie Mannequin. His stomach ached from laughter, and at one point, he even joined you. He didn’t think twice about his hands lazily resting on your hips while the two of you passed the second bottle of wine around. The phone rang at about one in the morning; it was a lovely call from the front desk about a noise complaint.

Luke giggled around you. Colors and shapes swirled around him a little more than usual, and your touch burned his already-hot skin. By the time endorphins calmed and the night slowed to a stop, deep conversations met pillow talk. He was hesitant to speak on behalf of his feelings, but you were keen on sharing your entire life story and traumas with him. You cried, and he let it be on his shoulder. He chose to talk about himself for once, to get the pressure off of you. Cuddling became tickling, and soon enough, the two of you were shouting lyrics to “Beat Patrol” with uncontrollable laughter once again. When you said goodnight, your arms tossed themselves around his waist as you pecked his flushed cheeks. And then you were gone, and he decided he didn’t like the absence.

He didn’t forget about it the next day. You were quiet, and you kept your distance, so he did the same. But something had changed, that he knew. It pricked at his stomach, and when you hopped aboard a flight the next day after that, he realized he missed you. It was funny how a mere few hours could change a mind.

-

“Do you think Y/N was the one that psychic talked about?”

“What?”

Calum had been silently chewing on a cold slice of pizza when the question hit his brain. Luke, on the other hand, was washing down his midnight meal with a bottle of beer. The tour had been over for about a week, and they had all been sleeping for days straight. Well, all except for Luke, who found himself unable to close his eyes while he tried not to think about that one night with you. It was one fucking night. By this point, nearly all of the events had vanished from his mind, but he couldn’t shake the honest happiness he felt while singing along to cheesy songs from the 1980s. He couldn’t get over your impromptu stand-up comedy show and your terrible John Mulaney impression.

“The psychic, Gina,” said Calum. “You remember that, right?”

“Yeah,” Luke replied, a little wary of where the conversation was headed.

Calum straightened his posture and slapped the pizza back down onto the greasy cardboard box. “D’ya think Y/N is who she was talking about?”

“I–– “ Luke thought for a moment as he racked his brain. He hadn’t mentioned that night with you to anyone, but they all knew his prior distaste for you. Now, he couldn’t help but think of the accuracy of the psychic’s testament. You didn’t like him, he didn’t like you, but now he kind of did like you. “No,” he said, “not a chance. It’s Y/N. Fuckin’ hate her.”

Calum nodded. A frown pulled at his lips. “She’s great, mate. Y’oughta give her a chance.”

Luke had given you a chance, and it worked all too well.

“Maybe you’ll fall in love with her.”

The blond snorted. “I can’t even be in the same room as her, Cal. Don’t see romantic escapades in our future. No–– no drunken late-nights with comedy impressions and Starship dance-offs.”

“’s oddly specific, but okay,” said Calum. He shut the pizza box a moment later and slid it back into the fridge, and meanwhile, Luke felt a pit growing in his stomach. “You’re too stubborn,” his friend continued. “And ugly. Like, too damn ugly for her anyway.”

Luke smirked, tilting his beer in Calum’s direction. “Cheers to that, mate.”

Through the dying laughter, Luke’s smile fell into a frown, and he couldn’t quite grasp the reason why. It was possible that the idea of falling for someone like you didn’t seem so terrible after all.

-

A few dozen people had gathered in the backyard by the time you arrived. Luke spent the first hour of the party cradling a beer, keeping himself out of sight on the porch but in view of the pool. His shirt had already become unbuttoned, and his curls had loosened and stuck flat against his skin due to the humidity in the hot air. And you... you looked marvelous.

Luke had been so focused on trying not to think about you, he ended up thinking about you every hour of every day. He caught himself scrolling through your Instagram page after failing to fall asleep, and he thought about what would have happened had you stayed in his hotel room a little longer. When your face popped into his brain, his heart hurt. He had started to idealize the two of you together–– exactly what he hadn’t wanted.

So, he isolated himself in the kitchen after your arrival, a series of nonconsecutive thoughts whirling through his head while he chipped away at the sticker on his warm beer. The party was outside, and he was in there, wondering how on earth he let himself start falling for the person he never wanted to know.

“I told Calum to queue up some Starship.”

Your voice was confident as you slid the back door closed behind you. Luke focused on your footsteps, but he refused to turn around as you approached him.

“If I can’t jam to some “Beat Patrol”, then honestly, what’s the point of being here?” you continued with a light laugh. You were grinning from ear to ear when you placed yourself in front of Luke, the close proximity causing him to hold in a gasp.

He cracked a smile. “Who invited you?”

“I invited myself,” you replied, “thank you very much.” You tilted your drink in his direction before taking a quick sip and setting it beside Luke’s on the counter. “The question is: why are you in here alone, bud? Lookin’ so glum n’ all.”

Luke’s heartbeat had begun to pick up, and humidity from the outside had seeped its way into the kitchen. He placed his palms on his pants to dry them off.

You frowned–– he had taken too long to answer. “You okay?”

He nearly jumped at the feeling of your hand brushing against his arm, and then he noticed that you had moved slightly closer. “I–– “ Luke coughed. “’m fine.” The weight on his arm never left.

“C-can I ask you something?” you spoke up again after a few moments of silence. You didn’t wait for his answer. “Do you hate me?”

His eyes met yours, despite the pain settling in his chest because of the contact. “You’ve asked me that before,” he said and smirked.

“I know,” you said quickly. “But, do you?”

Luke shook his head. “No. I could–– I could never.”

You nodded.

He nearly leaned in a little. The heavy tension and spike in energy tilted his body and its weight on the balls of his feet, but he held back in fear. All he wanted to do was see how you felt beneath his touch.

“Okay,” you then mumbled. Your voice was hushed, and you refused to look at him again. Somehow, the distance between the two of you shrunk once again.

Luke swallowed. His fingers played with the neck of his half-empty bottle; they spun it around and around while his brain told him what to do and what not to do.

And then, the hand that had been grazing his arm moved up to rest on his chest, and Luke restrained himself from completely losing himself in you. It was as if the music from the world outside had been sucked into a vacuum, and the air around him was dense with heat and sexual tension, but he could only notice your breath ghosting his lips. There was something about the nudging of noses and fluttering of eyelids that pushed him over the edge. So, when your lips finally met in a soft, velvety kiss, he couldn’t hold back the desire that had been building up for months.

While your hands plaited through his hair, Luke’s were firm on your waist. He had pulled you into him, all previous thoughts out the door while your lips slotted against his. It was wet yet warm, and a familiar sensation tightened in his abdomen. His cheeks were hot and pink–– that he knew for sure.

But you pulled away quickly, gasps falling as you sputtered out apologies. “I shouldn’t–– that was–– weird, right?”

Luke wanted to shake his head no, but instead, all he could do was nod.

“We–– we hate ea–– I’m sorry,” you said, grabbing your beer quickly and making a b-line for the sliding glass door.

Underneath Luke’s eyes, the skin burned, but he quickly shook it off. He wasn’t going to cry because you walked out on him. He was, however, disheartened tremendously.

The rest of the night, he spent his time avoiding you. Truth be told, he spent his time avoiding everyone. He loitered around his practice room, used the bathroom for twenty minutes, and locked himself in his room until the crowd outside died down. No one bothered to check up on him, not even you. It was when he had come to terms with his isolation that you knocked on his door and stumbled in. Immediately, he knew you had a few too many drinks.

Neither of you said a word as you ambled over, giggles leaving your lips before you flopped onto his bed beside him. Pillows flew and the duvet slipped to the floor, but Luke didn’t care. In the beginning, he never wanted to picture you in his bed–– it made him sick to think about. But then he purposefully avoided the thought, for he simply knew he’d find himself wanting to picture it more and more. So now, he had to keep his stomach from knotting. He had to keep himself from looking over and spilling out a word-vomit of feelings that he didn’t even want to have.

And then, you started touching his face.

At first, Luke wanted to laugh. You were cute albeit clumsy, yet the silence and evident tension settled in his shoulders, and every graze of your fingers on his flushed skin sent shivers up his spine. Fingers running over cheeks and closed eyelids, your touch so gentle he could barely feel it, but he did. You brushed the ridge of his brows, the curve of his nose, and finally, the dip of his cupid’s bow. He couldn’t breathe as you lightly traced the soft skin of his lips.

His lips felt cold once your fingers left, but they soon skimmed the hollowing of his cheeks back down to where his lips parted in a silent gasp. You pressed one finger against the separation of skin, and he kissed it gently. Then, you placed another finger there, and he continued.

Luke wanted to shoo your hand away. He blinked up at the ceiling while your hand traveled down his Adam’s Apple and onto his collarbones. Your touch was so light, so beautiful–– he was completely enamored at this moment. He had to clench his jaw while your hand traced the hairs on his chest.

The weight in his bed shifted, and suddenly your body was wedged up against his, your nose nudging his chest as you peppered kisses up and down it. Luke’s heart rate decided to make a break for it.

“No, no, no,” he breathed out, reaching over and pushing you away from him. He rose instantly while his hands fumbled to button up his shirt. It would be obvious to anyone as to how utterly flustered he was. “No, you can’t–– you can’t do that to me.”

You grinned. “Why not? Yer so pretty! Like a fuckin’ angel that fell from heaven. You glow.”

“I-I don’t–– no, what?” Luke sputtered, nerves rising to his throat as he finally got a good look at you in your drunken state. He already knew what you were like drunk, but he never saw you like this while sober.

“Ya deserves to be kissed,” you said.

Luke wanted to smile; except he couldn’t have things end up this way. He felt so much, maybe too much, and he wanted it to be good. You had hardly blinked.

“Um,” Luke whispered, “thanks. I–– I should–– I should check on the party.”

“Oh, yeah!” you squeaked. “Go, go, go!”

He nodded, excusing himself quickly and then shutting the door behind him. But he couldn’t walk any farther than that. With a sigh, he pressed his back against the door and looked down to his feet. Every muscle in his body tensed and relaxed while his brain went black. Luke didn’t know what to think. He wasn’t sure he would ever know how to admit how he felt. However, he did know that needed to pay a certain psychic a visit.

part two

[trade-baby-blues]

Push to Shove

Pairing: Leonard x Reader (loosley lol)

Word Count: 1649

Warnings: probably some swearing, some angst, poor lifestyle i guess

A/N: This was 100% self-indulgent sorry not sorry. I’ve been having a really rough time at work and none of my friends really understand that I can’t just quit my job bc. 1. I need money to pay bills and 2. I want to be able to use this place as a reference so I didn’t just waste the last four years of my life. So this fic is a Modern AU kind of thing that was really just here for me to vent. Not proofread so sorry if there are mistakes. 

There are few sounds as grating as the scream of an alarm clock tearing you away from peaceful dreams. You glared daggers at it as if that would silence it and allow you to return to the warm arms wrapping tighter around your waist. You knew you couldn't. With a groan, you pushed yourself out of bed, out of the safety of Leonard’s arms, and prepped yourself for another day in the office.

It was routine now. Get up, get coffee. Spill it on your shirt and change clothes so frantically you forget about the coffee and end up having to buy a cup on your way to work anyway. Your boss chastised you for being late, and you promised it wouldn't happen again (though you both knew it was a lie). Then you’d get to work and start your tasks for the day, usually cleaning and filing, and, if you were lucky, you’d get a lunch break in four hours. Of course, you’d never been very lucky.

Your stomach growled as your shift turned into a double which turned into an all-nighter when your boss asked you to review some paperwork for him as he left for the day, promising you the day of tomorrow. The thought of a whole day spent in your bed was the only thing that kept you through the slog of papers on your desk but when the sun finally poked its head through your office window and your boss made his way in, he sighed and asked you to come to his office. You followed him in, wondering what about your performance he could have found flaw with, but then he poured you a cup of coffee and you braced yourself for what you knew was coming. Can you cover a shift today? Is there no one else? Well, yes but you're the best. We’ll give you a bonus on your next paycheck. Well, I guess one more shift couldn't hurt. I’ll still have the afternoon off. Great, thanks so much. This is why you're the best. You smiled weakly at your boss, wishing for a moment that the bags under your eyes were as designer as the one he carried with him to work. Maybe then you could sell them for enough to be able to quit this job.

The hours blended together until finally you finished your work (your colleagues work, you reminded yourself) and made it home. Leonard wasn't home, yet, but he’d left you a note and dinner in the fridge but you were too tired to enjoy either. You dropped your purse on the floor and flopped down onto the bed, the ache in your bones finally lessening as you sank into the mattress. Every nerve in your body fought you as you pleaded with your brain to make your arms move. You should take your shoes off. You should get undressed. It would only mean more work later if you didn't, but maybe a quick nap couldn't hurt….

A shrill buzzing jolted you awake. Digging the palms of your hands into your eyes, you tried to rub away the tiredness. It was a battle to open your eyelids again, and in the end you conceded, allowing yourself to fall back against the pillows as the alarm continued to screech on. You couldn't remember how you’d gotten under the covers let alone how or when you’d put on your pajamas. And when had that stain on the ceiling been fixed? You swore it was there yesterday, or maybe last week, last month, last year? Everything seemed to blend together in your life now and the edges of your vision blurred to as your eyes fell shut again, the screeching of the alarm clock no match for the weariness in your soul.

Leonard rolled over with an exasperated sigh and all but knocked the alarm clock off your night stand. He hovered over you and brushed a lock of hair from your cheek but still you did not move. Finally, he pressed a kiss to your forehead and bade you get up before leaving bed to make breakfast. When had he gotten home? It seemed like you couldn't remember anything anymore.

“Is everything okay,” Leonard asked, peeking out at you from the other side of the newspaper. You hummed in response, stirring your tea. “You've been stirring that tea for ten minutes. Not to mention you put Sriracha on your toast not jelly.”

“No I didn't,” you scoffed, lifting the bread to smell it. You grimaced. That was definitely not jelly. You scowled and dropped the toast back on your plate, too tired to even care. You took a sip of your tea but it was cold. “You love being right, don't you?”

Leonard knew not to take offense. You liked mornings about as much as a root canal. “I’m just worried about you, sugar. You’re working yourself too hard and what about art school? I thought you were looking to apply again.”

“No, I’m happy at work.”

“Then why are you hiding brochures in the nightstand?”

You snapped your head up, eyes wide like a deer trapped in headlights only this time the light at the end of the tunnel was Leonard and you couldn’t understand why you were so damn scared. Why did you even bother hiding them? As if the canvases and paint stains on practically every open surface of your apartment weren’t enough to clue anyone in. Maybe you didn’t want him to know because you knew Leonard would try to convince you to quit again.

You sighed, covering your face with your hands as if hiding from Leonard would help you hide from the truth in front of you. “They need me,” you whispered, though to Leonard or yourself? “I can’t just quit. They said they’d be lost without me. That I might even be up for a promotion.” You could tell by the silence that followed Leonard wasn’t convinced either.

He stood and kissed the top of your head nonetheless. “Of course they’d be lost without you. You’re the hardest worker they’ve got on staff, but even the hardest worker needs rest now and again.”

You spent the rest of the ride to work thinking about how much rest you really needed. Every cell in your body felt tired - that special kind of tired you feel from too many all-nighters. Like your life has become a stop motion film and you’re just waiting to get to that next pose, that next frame because then you’re one step closer to being done for the day. You were a puppet on a string pretending to be the puppeteer.

Work was louder than usual. The sound of keyboards clicking and computers humming drowned by laughter and commotion coming from the break room. Was it someone’s birthday already? As you entered the break room your eyes were drawn up to a banner stretched across the room like a white flag. Congratulations. So someone was getting married, you told yourself. Or pregnant. Hikaru and his husband had been trying to find a surrogate for months now. Or maybe it was a -

“Promotion,” Jim said. He’d spent enough time in desk beside across from yours to know when you were confused about something. “Turns out little Pavel over there has been busting ass while we weren’t looking, and the boss says he was the best choice when it came down to it.”

You stared at Pavel as people shook his hand and clapped him on the back. You wanted to be proud for him, but the words echoed in your mind finding the darkest corners and planting themselves there like weeds, growing over any bright thought before it even had a chance to bloom. He was the best choice. You could hear your boss saying it because he’d said the same about you not a week before. Every word was another twist of the knife and every “congratulations” made your heart feel heavier. It was a wonder it didn’t fall out of your chest and through the floor. How could they do this? Hadn’t you given enough?

Every sleepless night came rushing back to you. Every double shift you worked seemed to weigh on your joints and anchor your feet to the ground. There were so many things you could have done with your life. You could be in art school now. You could be giving lessons or painting full-time. You could be enjoying a career you love in a life you love shared with a man you love. Instead you were angry. Not just at work. At home. At Leonard. At the dog that barked outside your window at 2 a.m. At the neighbors who were moving in and hammering nails into the wall at 11 a.m. because didn’t the know you were trying to sleep? You’d always heard of looking at the past with rose-colored glasses, but your lenses seemed to be tinted red.

“Hey, you okay?” Jim nudged your arm with his to get your attention.

“I quit.”

“Tell me about it. Doesn’t matter how long we’ve been here. Pavel is young and brings ‘something new.’” Jim pulled a face hoping to draw some response from you but you said nothing. His smile faltered as you turned away from him and started towards the door. You dropped your nametag in the trash can on your way out and it was like someone had lifted a mountain off your shoulders. You didn’t even know you’d been drowning until you finally tasted air. You weren’t exactly sure what to do next. It was a big wide world out there full of opportunities for you, but, when push comes to shove, you knew Leonard would be there to support you and that alone made you feel brave enough to conquer anything that came your way.

Tags: 

@daybreak96 @8bit-arc-reactor @jimtkirkisabitch @sjlovestory @kristaparadowski (sorry i totally never responded to your post but I added you to the tag list :]) @outside-the-government @martinawalker @thevalesofanduin @goingknowherewastaken @yourtropegirl @mysteriously-lost-forever @feelmyroarrrr @yukki-art @atari-writes @pabegay1 @bolontiku  @brooke-taylor0323 @anotherotter

[fightmewiatch]

Every so often, I have a day, one where something happens that keeps popping up things in my head that bug tf out of me. 

Today is...one of those days. Lol. But today I’m gonna write out, hopefully throwing it out will help me clear my head. (And it’s going under a cut, because it is looooong).

So, today I got an email from my supervisor that my productivity is really too low. Which, I knew that, I knew it wouldn’t be spot on. It was only based on the last few weeks, so I did email back to let her know that the last few weeks I’ve been getting constant headaches bc of my eyes / old glasses, but I finally went to the eye doctor last week so I should be better once I get the new glasses. 

Here’s the thing about this job. We log requests for medical records that are sent to specific hospitals/doctors offices/etc into our system (requests from patients, insurance, other health facilities, law firms, etc.). (We also send out the records, but I only do the first part of the job.) Working from home, I get assigned to a bunch of different facilities - sometimes that place is in Louisiana, sometimes Florida, sometimes it’s a country-wide place. When I change facilities, I have to “transfer” on my timecard, so they can see how long I’m spending in each website (and then the physical system keeps track of how many requests I’ve put in). 

It’s pretty much become commonplace for me to run out of work LONG before the end of the day, and then I email my super (same one who sent me my productivity), & ask for work. If I’m lucky, she answers me within ten minutes with more work. More often than not, I’m waiting between 30 minutes and several hours, and by that point, I email her at least one more time, and then try to find work on my own. 

No one has ever told me otherwise, so when I run out of work, I tend to stay in the facility I was last in (so instead of 2 hours in one place, I can be shown there for 2.5 or more, even without having work). When I emailed her back, I specifically asked her if there was a different place to “Transfer” to, so I don’t throw off my numbers, considering I often have to wait a while. 

To no surprise, I answered her at least an hour before the end of the day, and she didn’t answer. 

(I’m not looking for ways to fix this, I’m just basically throwing down what sparked the day.)

I’ve worked at 2 law firms in my life. 

Law Firm #1. 

Family firm (owned & run by a husband & wife - he was the name on the door, she was his secretary / office manager). 

This place was wild. 

I worked here twice. Once for two years, before I moved for school, and then after school (and a different job), I came back for another two and a half. And let me tell you. 

The first time I worked there, as secretary:

I worked part time. There was a second secretary who had been there a LOT longer that everyone loved but she was one of those older women who was certain no one else knew what they were talking about sometimes. 

My boss (owner, lead atty) wanted a listing of Potential Clients. Since we mostly did school law, business law, estate planning, and real estate, you think we would limit to that, yes? Nooooo. I had to make an excel spreadsheet of EVERY SINGLE PERSON in the phone book. Yes, you read that right. I had to spend my downtime putting THE PHONE BOOK (you remember those, right?) into an Excel Spreadsheet, so he could organize it by: first name, last name, city, address. Didn’t have an address? Find it by any possible means so long as it doesn’t cost money. 

My boss decided he loved Spreadsheets. I then had to transfer our entire client file (which was, at the time, comprised of about...2100 clients) into Excel. Also, so he could organize it by: First Name, Last Name, Business Name, Address/City, Reason for them being a client (god help us if they were there for multiple things), OR, for the schools, who the Superintendents were.

Sounds decent. But we had three different client lists to update every single time we got new info or a new client. Two in Word (one by Last Name, and one by Client Number) (which had been printed out for a hard copy that we had to keep reprinting to update them), & the one in Excel (which I fucking refused to print out, bc we’re talking HUNDREDS of pages, and what a waste of $$ and paper). 

Each time you created a new client, you had to write the information down on a sticky note and take it upstairs to K in billing, so she could make sure the information was put into her billing system. (and then she would give it to T who did payroll & incoming payments, so when people paid, they’d know what the $$ was for.)

Overall, my first 2 years there were okay. Nothing horrible, really, it was fine.

But then, the second time I worked there (approx. 3 years between leaving & coming back), in billing:

I was the billing assistant. K was still Head Billing. I adored her, we were friends despite the 30+ year age gap. 

The Billing Office was shared: me & K, and T had been transferred in there but she still did Payroll & Incoming. 

We were still at 4 attorneys, but 2 of the ones I used to work with were gone & 2 others were in place; and we fluctuated with other people in the building - 6 to 7 to 6 to 7. 

The secretary was the same as before, but she left about a month after I came back (she retired). They hired another woman, J. She was very experienced, very helpful, very firm, I really liked her. 

At first.

Her mom passed away (and I felt so bad, bc she hated her mom’s bf & there were a lot of issues and things), and afterwards, she wasn’t my friend anymore, she just seemed to be looking for a reason to leave. 

T was terrible with math (which is AWFUL for someone doing, you know, PAYROLL and INCOMING PAYMENTS). I mean terrible. We added up our own timecards, and I was shitty at keeping the math right, so I found a website to help (which I then shared with the paralegals who fucking loved it). But a couple times, T messed up hours for one of the paralegals, and the girl mentioned it to me bc I collected the cards (T had leg problems, so she limited herself to coming up & down the steps as much as she could - I did running for her). 

One time, when payroll got printed, and T was working from home, I checked her math, just because she wasn’t there, & I knew the boss would be leaving and if the paralegal didn’t catch it quickly, she would have to wait another day for the correct check (guys, you know how big of a pain that can be especially if you need that money). In the process, I pulled out J’s, trying to sort through them. I never just look at someone’s check stub, never ever, it is none of my business, and the only reason I was looking in the first place was hours, not pay. But J got a raise. No one in that building ever got a raise. Never. I’d worked there (at this point), a grand total of 3 years, and the only “raises” I got was a) bc they rehired me, and b) they wanted to make me a paralegal (which I didn’t want, but they let me keep the pay difference). 

The OM called me into her office a few hours later, and just ripped into me for going through payroll & telling everyone about J’s raise which is NO ONE else’s business, and I was so flustered bc I didn’t know what she was talking about. Turns out, J told the OM that I was telling everyone she got a raise, so instead of calmly asking me, she asked if I looked at payroll, and I was honest, and she just lectured me like a stern, mad, disappointed parent (you know...the tone of voice & the facial expressions that can send you into an anxiety attack). The young attorney was my friend, he actually came to my defense when he found out what happened, told the OM that I didn’t tell anyone anything, that J was bragging about her pay raise to the paralegals (and since he spent time down there working, he heard her). (I never did get an apology from J for lying about me, or from the OM for yelling at me like I was a disgrace.)

It was one of my responsibilities to go to Staples & pick up supplies with a business check. (That’s right. We didn’t order anything in, I physically drove up, shopped, paid, and hauled it back myself. In 2.5 years, I was only offered help twice. The young attorney had a perfect view of my car from his office, never came out unless I went in and asked (and I only ever asked him to carry the GIANT BOXES OF PAPER). We had a list down front of everything we needed - printer ink, paper, pens, staples, tape, etc etc etc. Sporadically, my boss would ask me to bring her the list, I’d triple check it so nothing got missed, and bring it to her, then she’d nod nod nod, hand me a signed check, and let me get it. 

One time, she told me to get everything we needed. No biggie, typically. But this rang out over $300, minimum (I’m almost blanking). I am telling you, she nearly had steam shooting out of her ears, and refused to let me go (like I’d messed up somehow) for well over a month. 

The bosses & at least one of their daughters (they had 4 kids) were Pro-Trump. (This is...this is all I need to say about this.)

J wound up showing up 2 hours late for work, going up to the boss, telling her she quits, and then leaving. (They tried to get her to stay with, you guessed it, another raise and a duty change. She still left.) We hired B, a lovely timid women. She was very, very nice, and as far as I know she’s still there. 

The two paralegals left and were replaced - one left, the 2nd trained the 1sts replacement, and then the replacement trained the 2nds replacement. (It was hilarious when the OM introduced us to the first replacement bc I knew her. I worked with her at the other law firm. We laughed, waved, smiled, good times.)

For a while, I had to sit in on meetings my boss had with clients (I had to take notes). This became rare for me, because once they had the 2 paralegals, they took turns, with B. We never really conversed with the clients beyond hi, but once I managed to have a nice conversation with a couple who had a place in Florida, and we talked bc it was at a place I had been to earlier the year before for my sister’s wedding, and we were having a nice conversation. Which, as you guessed, was interrupted by my boss who looked flummoxed that I, a low billing clerk, would have anything in common with his clients that he didn’t have in common with them. (He never said that, but you could see it well enough on his face.)

They had a quirk. They kept everything. Every bill that had been printed, it was printed, then copied - clients got the original, we kept two copies, one for when they paid (we would staple either a copy of the check or the check stub to the bill, so we knew what checks paid what bills), and then a copy for Billing, with any notes, adjustments, etc etc. (I’m talking bills back at least a decade, just thrown into the back apartment.)

I should mention here? The Office Building was an old apartment building. The entire downstairs and most of the upstairs had been converted into offices, but there was 1 last apartment in the very back that had a couple broken window panes, dust, bugs, etc etc. It’s where they stored old Bills & Paid Bills (anything older than 1 year). 

We’re pretty sure it’s haunted (I say this, bc I did record the sound of a giggling little girl in that back apartment, which is upstairs, not connected to any other buildings, and there were no little girls in there at the time.)

I worked there 2013 to 2017, this time around. Around 2014, I talked to K, and the OM, and made the suggestion to get rid of those bills. But not just toss them, no. Let’s SCAN THEM IN! I was excited when they loved the idea. (My poor, poor stupid self.) I had to scan in every bill (we’re talking thousands and thousands) of bills, I scanned in every single bill that we sent out between, like...2006 and 2015, by the time I left (I left Jan of 2017, and idk if I finished scanning in 2016 before I did). 

This meant: unstapling at least a dozen pages per bill, scanning in every page of the bill, plus every page fo the last draft bill (bc of course there are multiple drafts), logging every single bill into a Spreadsheet so we knew what we had, for whom, and where. I had to set up a bunch of fucking folders - one for every year, broken down into month, broken down to Schools or Miscellaneous (Everything else), broken down to Bills and Drafts, so we didn’t mix things up. This was fine if the bill was between 1 and 10 pages, but after 2009, we had bills that were twenty, thirty, forty pages long, I am not joking, and if one page messed up, I had to scan them all in AGAIN bc I was using the free Adobe.

It was tiring, so I printed out pricing, asked the OM if we could get the monthly subscription.(This was maybe mid 2014, I think). (And then promptly watched her hum, and put it somewhere never to be seen again.) K, her gracious soul, prompted the boss a couple times, but it was brushed off every time. 

I finally paid it myself, fuck it, I’m not rescanning 80 pages bc 1 page got stuck in the scanner. 

One months before I left, the paralegals asked me about it, bc they had me fix stuff, scan stuff, bc i Had the better program, so I told them were to look. They asked the OM, who then asked me why I was paying for it myself. (I could have screamed.)

My bosses were the kind of people who went to church, and thought that made them good people. The Big Man had a library of religious DVDs, books, CDs that he loaned out to people. Asked me to, yup, make and keep the Spreadsheet of everything - one for CDs/DVDs, one for Books - and then keep the log/keep track of who borrowed what, & when it was returned. (This included tagging each item with a number. Had 6 of the same thing? Then 6 of them were given the same number). I stopped keeping such good track when he started accepting returns & not telling me who brought them back, or started loaning them without telling me what and to whom, & started adding things in without telling me so I could label them (and then loaning them out without me having numbered/logged them). 

My boss wanted me to work on the Website and their FB page. Thought we could send out an email to everyone (when I say everyone, I don’t just mean clients, I mean every person he could get an email for in the county), and when the IT guy said no, bc a mass email that size would most likely go to Spam, he said “Isn’t there a way to make sure it goes in their inbox?” and we all looked at each other as he said, “No, not unless we hack everyone’s emails, and that is very much against the law.”

I got paid mileage, because I often went to Staples, the bank, the boss’ house, two of the employees’ houses, two of the schools (who needed their bills NOW, not whenever the mail was sent out) and the Post office. One time I wrote the wrong mileage - I added going to the employees’ house, bc I did, but I did it on my way to/from lunch, so it didn’t count, but I was in a rush to write it, and I forgot until she was asking me why it was broken up. When I told her, she gave me the look, like I was trying to steal from her, and lectured me about it. (It was an accident, okay?)

T had diabetes, and after a lot of other medical issues and family issues, she had even more and they had to take her leg below the knee, and because the office wasn’t Handicapped accessible (there was some legal loophole that kept them from having to update the building), she got to work from home. The OM honest-to-god, when we were talking about how awful it was that they had to take the leg, said (summarizing) no one else has problems in comparison. ....I had to stare to try and figure out if she was serious (she was), because, yeah, it’s awful, but her problems did not negate anyone else’s, and man I feel sorry if that’s how you feel. 

The program we used for billing went down one day. We called called texted called our IT guy, but he didn’t answer, didn’t answer, didn’t answer, and then finally said he’d be there at some point but he didn’t know when (he worked 3 other jobs, and was our IT guy, it was not a good setup, I’m sorry). My entire job revolved around this program, so I couldn’t do anything, so after waiting all morning, I emailed the OM before I went to lunch that I could just take the afternoon off (I figured it was better they not pay me at all, instead of paying me to twiddle my thumbs; K agreed (and she’d been there since they pretty much opened the doors at least 20 years before)), and then clocked out and went to lunch. when I dropped my mom off after, the OM called me, screaming at me because how dare I just leave, I needed to be in that office, just made me feel about an inch tall because I did that (and reminded me I had things I could do for the website, which I swear I had forgotten about bc I was so distracted by the damn program). I had to crawl back to work for the afternoon, and listen to another lecture, basically belittling me for the choice I made, that I don’t get to make that choice (I was seriously the only person who doesn’t get to make that choice, pretty much everyone else in that office was able to work from home, leave if something at the office wasn’t working, etc). (I still hear her in my head some days, if that tells you how bad that day fucked me up.)

We had bowed windows in Billing. We also had our own furnace/ac system. The insulation was long gone, so in the summer, if the AC was on (and down to about 60/65) it was fine, but the second it kicked off, you burned up. In the winter, if the heat was on (we had it cranked to 80), it was fine, but when it kicked off, it FROZE, i had to wear sweaters and gloves while I worked. K did, too. The first time I was there, they had space heaters up there. But the bosses hired the worst construction crew ever (hired them bc they were clients, btw), who had to rewire something else, which rigged Billing so that if we tried to use a space heater, it would blow the entire breaker on our side of the building.

Despite everything K or I said, about the fact that it leaked into billing when it rained, we were ignored. Until the day it poured in on me, and two ceiling tiles fell (lucky for them, I was already leaping out of my seat from the cold water, or I’d have had a field day). The guys fixed the side of the building, but never replaced the tiles (which we knew was because, if they replaced the two that had fallen, they’d have to replace all of them, which meant they’d have to admit to knowing about the mold in the ceiling). 

I’m adding these as an after-bullet-point, because I did these both times I worked there.

This firm handled business, school, estate plans, and real estate law. This meant they wanted brochures, but not just A Brochure, with highlights for the company, no. Brochures for the general work we did, our school work, our business work, our estate plans, & our real estate work, each one with each (relevant) attorney on it (as attorneys left, they had to be removed, & as they joined, they were added - including their photograph, which they didn’t always provide and I had to dig for). Brochures were tri-fold, but at one point, we had 5 attorneys, and with the other (honest to god) bull drivel that was on these brochures, 5 did not fit in a tri-fold, meaning I had to figure out how to fit a 5th without it looking ridiculous. (And my boss was kind of...irritating, in the fact that I should show him how it would look A DOZEN TIMES, in a DOZEN WAYS, get his sign off, print 20 copies - as he told me to do - only for him to “suddenly” change his mind, meaning I wasted paper (at minimum $25 a box, and ink at minimum $25 a cartridge/$49 for black & color).

Sometimes (two to three times a year, I think) they did seminars, where they would compile a binder related to the Specific Thing (estate planning, real estate, school staff training, etc), because they were going to basically hold a class, pass these binders out, teach the attendees things. It was always my responsibility to assemble these binders (which typically wound up being 1 for the file, 1 for the OM, 1 for boss, 1 for whatever attorney was presenting, and approx. 5 to 25, depending on how many people were attending). Low end, we’re talking 9, high end, 29. Before I could even begin to assemble, the boss/OM/attorney had to get the stuff together for the binder - the forms, the spreadsheets, the index, literally think of a Handbook, and that’s what we were putting together. The boss had final say on everything. This is a man who has no concept of a timeline. So the day before the presentation, he was finishing the edits. OM would give me a check (she didn’t bat an eye for this shit, ever), send me to Staples to pick up all the supplies: binders, cover stock (bc yes, I also had to print covers, and use a blank piece of matching cover stock as a “back cover”), ink, regular paper, divider pages (meaning: colored construction paper), pens & notepads (bc ofc those were included, in case they had to take notes), and brochure paper (bc those were included, too). In less than 8 hours, I had to: use my computer to print anything in color or anything on the non-regular-paper (the copy machine was only normal paper, b&w); copy everything 9-29 times in the copy machine; hole punch everything (with a hole punch that would do max 10 pages at a time, and honey, they were rarely only 10 pages); assemble in order the binders; trim the card stock covers (bc somehow, they never fucking fit otherwise); and then try to stack 9-29 uneven binders on the 2nd floor conference room table. (And sometimes? Yes. Sometimes, the boss would take one when I was half-way through (without me knowing sometimes btw), and make some changes, meaning I’d have to take them apart and redo those pages, which meant going back to the computer, editing the original document, reprinting & copying, repunching, and reindexing). Please note: yes, I said in less than 8 hours, but that is being generous, bc do you think this man was ready for me to start when I walked in? No. He’d call the office around 11 or 12 to have me start (he often “started his day” from home, a mile away), so I’d go pick up the information, get it done, and get started bc I had to get a check, shop for supplies, print, copy, punch, arrange, index 9 to 29 binders with min 10 pages in each, plus covers, plus divider pages as necessary, between 12pm and 5pm. I’m exhausted just thinking about it.

(I know this is long, I’m sorry, last spot.)

My other job.

Law Firm #2

Owned by one man who was like 400 years old and half dust. (He was a piece of work. His son was also a lawyer, but he & his new wife hated his son, and he constantly tried to sue his son to keep him from using his name in his business. They...they had the same last name.)

His wife owned a dress shop that was PRICED HIGH but was not very good quality (and actually had a second shop in the City). 

They lived in a mansion. With maids. And the wife thought it appropriate to call in before we got in for the day, leave a list of things needed from the store, so one of the employees at the office (she used a couple of us as her own servants) could go to the store, get it, and bring it to the house.

I was hired as a Work Comp Clerk. Meaning I send out the subpoenas to health care facilities/doctors/etc to get bills and records for court. But the second they saw I’d been a secretary (at Firm #1) before, they took that chance. Made me secretary first thing in the morning (before the actual lady showed up), and for an hour after lunch (while the actual lady was at lunch). This was the busiest hour of the day. It was an 11 line phone, and no one else was allowed to answer it. (Firm #1? 4 lines and a fax, with 3 people as backup.) 

I did fine at first. Made friends with the girls I worked with, and the other attorneys.

The owner, and the office manager? Nope. They hated me. I hated them. They looked for anything to get mad at me for. 

I do not speak Spanish. 2 people in the office do (the secretary, and the woman who was made to do running for the wife). There was one time neither of them were in after lunch (usually 1 of them was there), while I was working the front desk, so of course someone called in that spoke Spanish. I told them, uno momento, por favor, bc I do know that much at least, put them on hold, called the OM. She raced up, started rifling the desk to tell me there was a sticky that said how to say one minute please, and I said “I know how to say that, and I did, that’s why they’re on hold. What do I do now?” And she looked at me like I’d grown a second head, before huffing and telling me to call our maintenance man (who spoke Spanish), so he could translate for me. (I think the secretary came in before I could, so she did the call for me. 

I started having trouble doing my job. I’d never get records or bills, I’d spend half the day on the phone going round & round trying to figure out what the problem was, I’d keep sending reminder requests, but some of them I just could not get. One of the attorneys I explained this too, and he took a second to realize what I meant, before saying it was fine, just try, and if I can’t, I can’t. 

Two of the attys left, and were replaced with 1 attorney who had just gotten his license, and one who had not yet taken the bar (so she legally wasn’t an attorney). They were nice, the attorneys there were (mostly) nice. 

About halfway through the time I worked there (8 months. I was there 8 months), someone started calling, leaving threatening messages at night on the voicemail. It got to the point that one night, the secretary asked me to cover the front desk a little bit before I went home bc she had to go in with the boss and the OM, and a cop, so they could play the messages and figure out what to do. She didn’t mention there was a cop coming, no one did, so when he showed up, I did what I’m trained to do (write down his name, what he wants, etc) and went back to the boss’ office to ask him. “Well who is it?” “Officer XX.” “...is his first name Officer?!” “...well, no.” “Go find out what his name is!” He actually even called me an idiot, in the loudest possible voice, and kicked me out of his office. I was shaking, I was so angry, and I went up front, and whipped the notepad to the desk (it’s funny now bc the young atty was coming out of his office, saw me throw the notepad, and turned back and went into his office lol). The cop asked me if he could go in and I said no, he wasn’t ready yet, and the cop sighed, said he had a job to do, and they called him, and I got short with him and basically told him they’d call up when they were ready, so SIT DOWN. (Thankfully, they called up for him, so I walked him back and then just sat at the front desk, seething.)

Honestly, that was the downfall. That was when I started looking for a job, but considering I’ve got anxiety and a fear of public speaking and all that non-fun stuff, it isn’t easy (and I never know how to answer interview questions, which genuinely makes them think I’m stupid, I’ve seen their faces). 

Just over a month before my birthday, I walked into work (on Monday), and went to put my bag at my desk. I got confused, seeing someone in my chair, but I just figured it was so she could train with the lady in the next desk, and I didn’t care bc I was working the front desk for that first hour. But just before the hour was up, the OM came up to me, asked me to come see her when I was done up there. Okay. Told me to bring my purse. ...o...okay. Finished the hour, grabbed my purse, went back. SURPRISE. That new girl was my replacement, and I was being demoted, which came with a pay decrease, as well as an hour decrease (although I was still expected to have lunch at the same time, and cover the front for the same time frames, even though they were taking 2 hours off my schedule every single day and over a dollar off my pay), and I was the runner. Because I wasn’t doing my job to their standards (they never told me that, they never gave me a warning, they never gave me a head’s up. Just BAM you’re fucked). I worked until 3 (per my new schedule), walked into her office, said “I’m not coming back, I can’t do this job anymore.” She shrugged, and turned away from me. I quit. (I had called my mom around lunch and her first words were “Fuck them, you quit & come home right now.” I just told her I needed to finish the day.)

I filed unemployment.

We did the hearing: one of the attorneys I liked was representing them, with the OM as one witness, and my closest coworker as the other. I felt awful and betrayed because we’d kept in touch (this was a month after I left, ish), but here she was telling them all my negative traits - including that I would stare out the window for periods of time. I explained to them (as I did while I worked there) that it helped my eyes, and helped me think, when I couldn’t remember my Next Step. After a little while of them talking shit about me, talking about how terrible I was, and all that stuff to make them file against me so I don’t get anything. And after hearing me say I had no warning, the hearing officer interrupted me and said “So...OM, you never gave her warning.” “Nope.” “You didn’t give her a head’s up, didn’t give her a chance to correct her problems, just expected her to keep working for you after cutting her hours, and her pay, and changing her responsibilities. With no warning.” “Right.” “Are you crazy?” I won. I laughed maniacally. 

When the following year’s W-2′s came out (i worked for them a few months the year they were for, so I needed theirs), mine didn’t show when it was supposed to, so I called. New girl, said she got hers, put me on hold, “called the OM”, who told her to tell me that yes, they were sent. I got it 3 days later (postmarked the day I called. Mailed mine out my fucking ass). 

added: Oh yeah. Someone had called at one point, & there was A Thing I was supposed to do, but no one had ever told me about it, never mentioned it, etc etc, so I didn’t know it existed, meaning I didn’t know there was something I didn’t know (following me?). I asked the OM. She said “well, if you didn’t know, you should have asked.” “...I...didn’t know. Like, in any capacity. How do I ask about something I don’t know exists? It’s not that I didn’t know how to do it, I didn’t know it was a thing.” “You should have asked.” 

Yeah.

I think that’s it. 

[famedroleplayarchive]

YOO RIOH is the MAKNAE, LEAD VOCAL, AND LEAD DANCER of VIVE under GOLD STAR MEDIA. He was born on FEBRUARY 25, 2002. He looks a little like YANG JEONGIN (I.N) OF STRAY KIDS.

CHARACTER INFORMATION

faceclaim: Yang Jeongin (I.N), member of Stray Kids

legal name: Yoo Rioh

stage name: ///

pronouns: He / him / his

birth date: Feb 26, 2002

hometown: Seoul, KR

position: Maknae, lead vocal, lead dancer of Vive

claims: ///

BIOGRAPHY

triggers: ///

( YOO RIOH’s LIFE IN VIGNETTES // FROM 2002 → PRESENT )

SCENE I. SEOUL, KR — 2009, Q2. ON-SET, PHOTOSHOOT.

“Yes! You’re doing so good, baby!” His mother encourages from off-set, the harsh, warm light beaming over at him so strong that he’s not able to open his eyes properly. The photographer pauses, readjusts, and continues shooting—the pint-sized “model” for the day doing his best to smile wide and act “cute,” just like he’s practiced in the mirror at home. Honestly, he’s not really sure why he’s here, nor does he know what he’s getting involved in, but it’s easy enough that his family frames it as a fun extracurricular activity… even if he finds himself getting distracted from time-to-time. After all, he’s only here because he was “discovered” in a shopping mall, and when the subject of payment was mentioned, mom and dad became increasingly interested.

Living off of lower salaries made them desperate for more cash, even if it meant utilizing their son’s adorable appearance to their benefit. Luckily though, they love him all the same; their greed has never swallowed them up whole—thank goodness!

Teeny-tiny hands are grasping at the bottom of his shirt; playing with the hemline to self-soothe himself from the constant flashing lights and loud voices all around him. When it’s time for a break, he’s taken aside in order to indulge himself in some sweet treats and beverages—which, to be honest, has been his favorite part of this whole experience.

“Mama, will I get to have cookies and cake every time I get my pictures taken?!” He asked, his mouth and cheeks covered in strawberries and chocolate. His mother laughs, wiping his face. “If you do a good job, of course! Just try not to eat so sloppily, love. You don’t wanna be dirty for the camera, do you?” With that, he shook his head; perfectly willing to obey his mom. Rioh’s always been an easygoing child like that.

When he finished his snack, he was immediately put back to work; changing his outfit and hairstyle for the next few frames, then repeating the process until all was said and done.

Little did he know then that this would slowly, but surely, envelope his entire life for awhile. That, and well, he’ll now forever begin to expect getting rewards for accomplishing small tasks.

SCENE II. SEOUL, KR — 2012, Q1. THE YOO RESIDENCE.

“Hello, Mrs. Yeo? Hi, yes, I’m glad you answered! This is Kang Hyojung. I was who spoke to you a few days ago about representing a company that’s interested in training your son.” She recalls it, but also remembers being suspicious of the offer at the time. This supposed “casting agent” wasn’t exactly eager to share what company they were working for, so all in all, it felt like a total scam. Though, after a somewhat long conversation on the phone, she agreed to meet up with them and the whole casting committee at an address she didn’t at all recognize. Fortunately, it was in Gangnam, so felt a little more promising. When the call ended, she immediately went over to Rioh’s bedroom and knocked on the door; allowing herself in after a few seconds.

“Do you remember that lady who talked to us at the restaurant?” She asked, slightly shocked as to how her child kept getting this recognition. It isn’t like she and her husband were putting him on display by taking him to auditions or casting calls. Sure, he’s taken part in a few small-scale commercials and photo-spreads—mostly in catalogues—but after awhile, he stopped focusing on shoots in exchange for going to school and making friends. He doesn’t truly realize that he’s been “marketable” since birth, and while he’s lucky to possess such a rare quality, it’s one he’s not very comfortable with—even at just ten years-old.

At the question, he nods his head; unsure of what’s about to be said next.

“Well, she called us like she said she would and she wants to meet with you on Saturday. Is that something that you’d want to do? I told her we’d go, but if you don’t want to, I can call back and tell her never-mind.”

What’s sad is, even at such a young age, he knows the situation that his family’s in. Mom’s a waitress, dad’s a butler at a wealthier person’s estate, and most of the time, he doesn’t see him often. Neither of them pull in enough cash to support their lifestyle, especially since Rioh’s the youngest child out of five children. Putting enough food on the table has never been an easy feat for the Yoo household. So, even though he’s not exactly invested in continuing his ever-blossoming career as a child model, he knows it could help his parents out.

Even though he’s the youngest, he still feels the need to contribute.

“Yeah, I’ll go! Hopefully it’s somewhere cool and not something weird,” he added simply; his tone drenched in optimism despite his mind not being on the same page.

SCENE III. SEOUL, KR — 2014, Q3. BC ENTERTAINMENT HQ.

He watches with wide eyes as some of the older trainees practice; the fierce gaze in their eyes containing a fire that he’s never felt before. The way they move is so striking and strong, and it isn’t only impressive that they’ve been able to work hard to hone their skills, but he can’t help but find himself as feeling almost… “attracted” to them without realizing it. Not only is he drawn to the art of their dancing and singing, but also, to how all of them look, as well.

It’s a confusing feeling to him… especially since he’s always been told he’d feel this way about girls as he gets older.

However, when the others slowly begin to leave the rehearsal space, he enters; awaiting for his acting instructor and the few other kids in his division to show up. It’s then when he finds the strength to bravely approach the last of the idol hopefuls still in the room; his shyness slowly creeping over him despite the complete want to speak to him. After a few seconds, though, he’s able to piece together a sentence that’s coherent enough to make sense. He hopes so, at least.

“Hey! Uh, you look really cool when you dance.” He starts, very obviously a little nervous. “How do you do that one move in the middle of the song? The one where you’re kinda jumpin’ but like spinnin’ at the same time?” It’s then when he attempts it and near about falls, but luckily, he’s able to just barely save himself from tumbling over. His face burns red with a blush, but his senior seems to find it endearing rather than annoying.

“Want me to show you?”

Without hesitation, Rioh nods his head; excited enough that his whole body starts to bounce beyond his control. Even though he was approaching adolescence, there was still a glimmer of youthful innocence in his eyes—one that he’d—amazingly—be able to clutch onto even as he ages. It’s that vibe alone that’s carried him this far, even if he doesn’t understand it fully yet.

Carefully, he watches how the dramatically taller male performs the motions, listening intently to his instructions all the while. After a few terrible attempts of his own, he finally does it… mostly. It’s a feeling of accomplishment that he’s not felt while studying acting for dramas and modeling for cameras, and when this mini dance lesson passes him by, he can’t help but feel a bit sad.

The disappointment only continues when his instructor arrives and hands him a script. A deep sigh follows suit, but he does what he’s told… just like he always does.

SCENE IV. SEOUL, KR — 2019, Q4. MOM’s CAR, BCE HQ.

A few notes from the last few years.

Rioh was too young for CHARM when they debuted in 2015.

He eventually transferred to idol training at the age of thirteen.

There, he discovered a true passion for singing and dancing.

He worked so fucking hard; he almost had no social life.

Hard work and passion wouldn’t pay off like he thought they would.

“It’s not an easy decision, but we’ve decided to put our focus into a new girl group, and instead of keeping you in our company, we would rather you try out for other agencies who are actively looking to create a boy group.” Their voice was warm, but that didn’t mean the letdown was any easier to process. He couldn’t help but feel a rush of chills race through him; his eyes swelling with tears as his heart pounded a mile a millisecond. It was clear that he was emotional, but he stood up to bow instead; nodding his head as he suppressed his emotions. That said, they all rained down on him the instant he got back into his mother’s car.

“What’s wrong? What happened?!” She was shocked, but when the situation was explained, she understood a little better; undoing her seatbelt so she could lean over to hold him easier.

“Sometimes you win some, and sometimes you lose some, but what’s important is that you don’t stop fighting for it—especially if it’s something that you really, really want.”

“B-But, what about you and dad? What’re you gonna do now that you can’t work anymore? I want to help, but now it feels like I can’t do anything…”

His words took her aback. She hadn’t realized that her children knew so much about the stress she’s been under lately. Due to an injury, she had to stop waiting tables, and sadly, she’s found it hard to find another job. Laughing softly, she shook her head back and forth; squeezing onto his shoulders a little firmer. “Yes, I’ve been stressed… and yes, I’ve been worried about finding something new to do, but listen to me: you don’t have to worry about me, okay? I promise that I have things together, and I promise that I’ll be fine.” Her words were matter-of-fact, and though he heard them loud and clear, they didn’t quite sink in. Though, they were enough to calm him down momentarily. At the end of the day, he was still disappointed—even if it was mostly in himself.

“I love you, mom… I promise I’ll try harder.”

SCENE V. SEOUL, KR — 2020, Q4. UNDISCLOSED STUDIO.

“Is it just me or is Yoo Rioh really fucking obnoxious?” “Ugh, he always pushes his way to the front and center…” “In my opinion, Rioh doesn’t even compete with many of us.” “I feel like people only like him because he’s handsome.”

He couldn’t hear them all of the time, but he somehow had a hunch that many of the other trainees didn’t like him. Did he sometimes read as desperate for attention? Yes. Did he have little tantrums off-screen if he wasn’t getting enough camera time? One hundred percent. The viewers and some of the producers never saw it, but his fellow competitors witnessed it full force. All of them were in the same boat, and the tension was high, so it was only natural that there would be stupid disagreements, petty anger, and unnecessary drama. How unfortunate.

There’s no excuse for his immature behavior, but he’d argue that his passion is just… stronger than the others. He’s been training for a whopping eight years and he’s only eighteen years old. That’s nearly half of his life. To him, there’s almost no comparison between he and the others. Many of them were older than him, but he’d still consider himself their sunbae. So, he had no idea why he wasn’t being respected for his hard work and talent. His childish ways didn’t make things any better, though, so he wasn’t totally blameless. That, and well, a lot of the chatter that was being thrown around about him was fairly accurate. Again, how fucking unfortunate.

The upside to all of this? The general public that tuned in seemed to fall head over heels in love with him. Whenever he was brave (and lucky) enough to read online comments during filming, he found that many of them were positive. Lots of viewers said he gave off mischievous “little brother” vibes and many claimed that he’d be the perfect maknae if he was in the top five.

At this point, he decided to put more of his focus on appeasing his future fans, so no matter how competitive and annoying he was on the show, he was focused so much on winning that he stopped caring entirely how the others treated him. He made a few friends—some of them he’d later debut with—and he wasn’t particularly hated by all forty-nine other guys, but his thirst for notoriety was truly off-putting to a lot of people. So, when he ended the competition with a metaphoric silver medal in second place, there were plenty of eye-rolls and scoffs to go around.

He tried his best not to let everyone else rain on his parade, though.

SCENE VI. SEOUL, KR — 2021, Q1. GOLD STAR MEDIA HQ.

He reads over his contracts with a lawyer that his father’s employer recommended, making sure that he wasn’t signing onto anything that would negatively compromise him in anyway. As far as he was aware, things looked good enough for him to sign his name on the dotted line, so when the time came, he did just that—overjoyed that his time spent training was finally rewarded with a little recognition.

Took long enough.

“Guys… we’re finally getting everything we ever wanted!” He speaks aloud to his members, the smile on his face genuine. “Like, can you believe that we’re actually gonna be the next big thing?!” His giddiness was infectious, but also a lot to handle. He can’t help it—he’s pumped.

Rioh just hopes his assumptions don’t bite him in the ass, though. The last thing he needs is to jinx the golden opportunity that’s been bestowed upon him by making hasty predictions.

In the end though, his marketability is largely what he got him where he is today. While he can keep up with his seniors as far as singing and dancing are concerned, he still has a long way to go if he plans on being as successful as some of his company’s other artists. He’s young, he’s dumb, but he’s learning—that’s gotta count for something, right?

His career is just beginning, though, so let’s hope he’s able to make it work.

[heartbreakcity]

87.5 RanDoM QuEstiOnS

okayyy, i’ve always wanted to do one of these !! hopefully you all know me a lil better afterwards

tagged by: the lovely @inspiredbynewt

tagging: @gilinswilkwhore & @maximoff-pan

♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛ ♛

0.5) Name and age? Megan and i’m 16

1. Where do you live? Oxford, England. yes it rains, yes it’s cold.

2. One cool item you own? my record player, and i have my dads old band on vinyl (Faze Action - they’re the bomb.com) and my huge collection of photos clipped to fairy lights is cute

3. Moon or stars? moon

4. Places you’d like to travel to? E V E R Y W H E R E A N D A N Y W H E R E

5. Favourite song? a) A Sky Full Of Stars by Coldplay b) Isombard by Declan McKenna c) December 1963 (Oh What A Night) by Frankie Valley and The Four Seasons

6. Do you have any fears? Yup, it’s called Ostraconaphobia...and yes it’s ridiculous it’s the fear of...shellfish THEY TERRIFY ME I CAND DEal WITH IT

7. Do you feel different than you did last year? i’m so much happier, honestly i’m loving life

8. What is your race? White British

9. Pet peeves? loud and obnoxious people but that’s it.

10. Any siblings? a brother

11. Are you a gamer? depends on the game

12. Sexual orientation? straight

13. Does a broken mirror mean bad luck? oh hell yes

14. What do you feel is your mental age? ranges from a 3 year old to 50 year old

15. How old were you when you started dating? my first proper relationship where i was in love was at the age 15. some say it was too young but this guy was my everything and i saw my whole future with him. pity he said “you’re not good enough”, eh

16. Where do you do most of your online shopping? amazon or asos

17. Favourite animal? penguinsss

18. What’s one film from the 2000s that you like? hands down “13 going on 30” and the classic “Angus, Thongs and Perfect Snogging”

19. What’s your favourite scary movie? hate them with a passion but probs Incidious

20. Fun fact about yourself? i am probably the most musical person you will ever meet - i play trombone, bass guitar, flute, clarinet, piano, keyboard, saxophone, trumpet, baritone, cornet, drums, guitar and i sing.

21. Shoe size? 6

22. Which fictional character(s) do you relate to the most? Betty Cooper, she’s basically my spirit animal and Blair Waldorf

23. Where do you see yourself living in ten years? in america

24. Ever wore clothes that were just wayyy too tight? yes and i still have the scars lmao

25. What’s on your mind? ironic, but i’m thinking about the ex bf who said “you’re not good enough for me” bc hell i miss him

26. Are you religious? yes

27. How tall are you? 5’7”

28. Favourite band? 5sos, The Killers, The Hunna, Jackson 5

29. Do you remember 2009? no i barely remember 3 days ago

30. Cats or dogs? cat person here

31. Fruit or vegetables? veggies

32. Do you want to get married? 100% yes

33. Do you want children? yep, 2

34. Flamingos or peacocks? flamingos they’re so pretty

35. What superpower do you wish you had? mind reading or being able to change minds

36. Are you a germ freak? god yes

37. Did swearing baby, ghost car, or ghost caught on tape scare you as a kid? HELL TO THE YESSSS i had an awful friend who showed all of the above to me

38. Do you prefer sweet or salty? salt. tons of salt pls

39. Tea or coffee? dislike both but coffee cause i like Mochas

40. Are you superstitious? yup. i hold my breath when i pass lorries on the roads, i carry a luck stone with me and wear 2 rings every day in case of bad luck

41. Do you like stripes? i guess?

42. Favourite shows as a kid? teletubbies or the tweenies

43. Favourite shows growing up? victorious, icarly, wizards of waverley place, kickin’ it were the bomb

44. Favourite musical? Kinky Boots, Les Mis, RENT, Jersey boys, FOOTLOOSE HELL YEA

45. Favourite movie? shit there’s a list: Guardians of the galaxy, footloose, the breakfast club, star wars episode VI, the maze runner trilogy, ferris bulers day off, 10 things i hate about you

46. Birthday? 17 december (i’m 16)

47. Are you a grammar Nazi? absolutely. i’m so pedantic

48. Ever gotten drunk? yeah

49. Do you have a carrier bag? huh?

50. What would you do if you were the opposite gender for a day? tell a girl what makes her special

51. If you were the opposite gender what would you change your name to? i’ve looked at this question for 5 mins, idk i love Ashton (yes irwin)

52. What song is stuck in your head? “rent” from rent...

53. Celebrity crush? always = luke hemmings but rn = shia lebouf

54. If you could live in a non-English speaking country, where would it be? spain

55. Are you a good dancer? i like to think i am but really i look awful

56. Have any allergies? to nasty people

57. Any bad habits? i think things over at least 2784 times and then realise, maybe it really was nothing

58. Ever broke a bone? left elbow

59. Are you a city or country person? city, totally

60. Do you like your home country? love it

61. Sunflowers or daisies? daises. have so many memories involving daises

62. Tulips or roses? roses

63. Oak or maple? oak

64. Disney or Nickelodeon? refuse to answer

65. WYR be obese or anorexic? anorexic

66. WYR be over 6 feet or under 5 feet? under 5 ft

67. Rubies or sapphires? sapphires

68. Are you stubborn? look up stubborn in the dictionary you’ll see “Megan”

69. Have you been in scouts/Girl Scouts? yeah, in england you call it “Rainbows” then “Brownies” then “Guides”

70. What type of music do you listen to? EVERYTHING and i mean everything EXCEPT rap/hip hop/dubstep

71. Favourite vine? thomas sanders “narrating people’s lives” with the one about the guy stepping on a snake

72. Beaches or castles? beaches

73. Pick the closest book to you, and write the line for page 36, line 16 -“ - meant adding our own to the pile” it’s from Library Of Souls by Ranson Riggs

74. Anyone in the same room as you right now? nope i’m in bed

75. Which is worse; throwing up or diharreah? throwing up

76. Butterflies or lady bugs? butterflies!!

77. Do you say “K” when you’re not mad? i hate the letter so no

78. How do you react when purposely scare you? i’ll scream. i’ll always scream

79. Most overrated celebrity? the whole kardashian clan #sorrynotsorry

80. Do you have a globe in your room? i wish

81. Do you have a dream catcher in your room? nah

82. What do you see when you look out your window? my allotment, a play park, a graveyard, and fields and barns for miles

83. Have you been on an airplane? yes and i hate it

84. Do you believe in aliens? honestly i believe we can’t be the only ones in the whole entire universe

85. Do you believe in ghosts? in a scary way - no. in a comforting way/family/friends passed way - yes.

86. Do you believe in God? yes

87. Do you believe in yourself? i believe i can do whatever i put my mind to. so yes. i have confidence in myself

[mldrgrl]

msr headcanon: Scully takes Mulder to her high school reunion pretending he's her husband bc she's embarrassed that she's one of the only people of her class that isn't already married

Reunitedby mldrgrlRated PGSummary: This isn’t totally what you wanted, Anon, I’m sorry, but it’s the only way I can see it.

From time to time, mail still arrived at the house for Scully.  Technically, it arrived at the PO Box Mulder maintained where they used to collect their mail, but it had been his alone for two years.  At first, he used the trickle of mail that came through to call her, knowing full well it was mostly junk she’d never want, but it was the only legitimate excuse he had for awhile.  It had been quite awhile since her name showed up in his PO Box, but he didn’t need excuses anymore since he saw her nearly every day at work.

He brought her the Alumni Newsletter she received with a cup of coffee.  She thanked him for both, took a sip of the coffee, and then through the newsletter in the trash after a mere glance.

“You're not going to read it?” Mulder asked, retrieving the sealed booklet from the trash can.

“A high school newsletter?  I don't think I've ever read one.”

“Hm.”  Mulder ripped the circle of tape holding the pages together and opened it up.  “Rosalee O’Brien hyphen Bingham, senior class president, announces the 35th reunion for the graduates of the class-”

“I know what year I graduated,” she said, reaching across his desk to take the newsletter back.  “No need to remind me.”

“You don't want to go?  It's in…” Mulder paused and held the newsletter up and away from Scully's searching fingers.  “June.”

“We don't know where we'll be in June.  A case could come up.”

“Never heard of personal time?”

Unable to grab the newsletter, Scully crossed her arms.  “Mulder, you wouldn't know personal time if it walked through the door and bit you on the ass.”

“Well, things change.”  He gave her the newsletter which she folded and put in her briefcase.

Scully sat down with her coffee in front of Mulder's desk.  “What's on the agenda today?”

“I think we should go.”

“We?”

“We haven't been to a reunion since Kroner, Kansas.”

“You say that like it's the same as going to a movie.”

“What kind of movie?”

Scully rolled her eyes a little and reached over to take the file off Mulder's desk since he didn't seem to want to share it with her.  The conversation about the reunion fell by the wayside as he finally started presenting her with the known and unknown information on their new case.

Two months later, Scully was packing up her briefcase for the night when Mulder swiveled in his seat and leaned back to look at her.

“What time should I pick you up?” he asked.

“For?”

“The reunion’s tomorrow.”

“The what?”

“Your high school reunion.”

“How in the hell did you even remember that?”

“It's been on my calendar for weeks.  You didn't mark it down?”

Scully snapped her briefcase shut and gave him the eyebrow.  “I never RSVPed,” she said.  

“Sure you did.”

“Mulder…”

“Did you know that Rosalee O’Brien hyphen Bingham is married to a dentist?  Two kids, Paul Jr. and Mary Katherine, after her mother, but they call her Kate.  Paul Jr. just joined the practice with his dad and Kate's finding herself in Europe.  Nice lady.  Can't wait to see you.”

Scully dropped into the chair across from Mulder's desk and glared at him.  “I can't believe you would...you would just…”

“It'll be fun.”

“I highly doubt that.”

Mulder pursed his lips and then sat up straight and smoothed his tie down his chest.  “Remember back when we were on the road and we used to...talk?”

“Yes.”

“You said once that you thought it was so strange to look back at your life and know that anyone who ever knew you before you went on the run with me was never going to know you again.”

“And you thought that meant I wanted to then go to my high school reunion ten years later?”

Mulder looked down at his desk and gave a small shrug.  “I can call Rosalee and tell her something came up.”

“No,” Scully said, quickly.  “No, don't do that.”

“But, you don't want to go.”

“No.  No, I would rather stay home and think about ways to kill you and make it look like an accident.”

Mulder grimaced.  “I thought you liked high school.”

“I did.  For the most part.”

“So why don't you want to go?”

“I don't know.”

They had reached a stalemate of sorts.  Mulder knew when not to pry, and Scully really couldn't offer more of an explanation.  

“What time is this happening and where?” Scully asked.

“Downtown Baltimore, 7 o’ clock.”

“And you really want to go to this?”

“I do.”

“Why?”

“It's not often I get to meet people who knew you before you were my Scully,” he said, and then quickly added, “the Scully I know.”

Scully licked the sloped her upper lip and looked away from Mulder.  “Alright,” she said, standing and picking up her briefcase.  “Pick me up at 6:30.”

“Okay.”

Their first exchange with a former classmate, Tracy Llewllyn nee Parker, was a shining example of what Scully couldn’t explain to Mulder as a reason for not wanting to attend her reunion.  Tracy was manning the nametags outside the door of the hotel ballroom the reunion was being held in.  Scully tried to dredge up some sort of memory of the woman, but her mind was a blank.

“Dana Scully,” Tracy said, handing her a badge with Scully’s name and a smaller, black and white version of her senior photo underneath.  “I remember you.”

“You do?” Scully asked.

“We had chemistry together.  Andy Teller almost got expelled for cheating off your mid-term.”

That was not a memory Scully was particularly fond of, especially when she’d had to reject Andy’s claim that she’d allowed him to copy from her paper.  She forced a weak smile as she affixed her nametag to her blazer.

“You must be Dana’s husband,” Tracy said to Mulder, handing him a blank tag and a Sharpie.  “Just write your name down there.”

“He’s my partner,” Scully clarified.

“Oh, of course you’d be one of those modern girls,” Tracy said with a laugh.  “It’s a wonder you even got married.  I don’t think anyone would’ve expected that of you.”

“Why is that?” Scully asked, barely keeping the annoyance out of her voice.

“You were always so independent,” Tracy answered, somewhat hushed, as though it was a secret.  “So what do you do now?”

“Scully’s a surgeon,” Mulder interjected, dropping the Sharpie back on the table in front of Tracy.

“A surgeon!”

“Well,” Scully said.  “Actually-”

“Did you just call her Scully?” Tracy asked.

“Force of habit,” Mulder answered, taking a moment to affix his name badge.  “We work together.”

“Oh, are you a surgeon as well...Mulder?”

“FBI.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I’m a forensic pathologist,” Scully said.  “For the FBI.”

“You still work now that you’re married?”

“You know,” Mulder said, putting his arm around Scully’s waist.  “Nice meeting you Tracy, but I think there’s a few people who just walked in the door that need nametags and we don’t want to keep you from it.”

Scully had felt the anger rising in her chest, bringing heat to her cheeks.  If Mulder hadn’t pulled her away when he did, Tracy was about to be on the bad end of a verbal lashing.  She didn’t have to remember the woman specifically to know she was probably going to encounter a lot of women like her in that ballroom.  She’d gone to school with a lot of girls whose singular ambition was to find a Catholic husband, get married in the church, and produce a lot of Catholic babies.  That wasn’t on Scully’s agenda, and it probably wouldn’t have been so strange if she’d been in high school today, but of the eighty or some odd kids she graduated with, she knew only a small percentage of them even went on to college, male or female.

“Why did you tell Tracy I was a surgeon?” Scully asked Mulder as they entered the ballroom.

“You are,” he said.

“Not anymore.  And I wasn’t ever really...I mean, I have performed surgeries, but…”

“What do you want to be tonight, then?  Doctor?  Special Agent?  Nuclear physicist?  Oh, I bet you could pass for some kind of lawyer if you wanted to.”

“FBI is fine.  And why did you let Tracy think you were my husband?”

“You’re the one that did that.”

“No, I didn’t, I told her you were my partner.”

“Scully, it’s synonymous to a lady like her.”

Scully sighed.

The ballroom was tastefully decorated with round tables with white linen tablecloths.  A buffet was on one side of the room and a DJ was at the head, playing music that was popular in her senior year that he’d probably had to Google because he barely looked old enough to drink.  The current choice was Pete Townshend’s Let My Love Open the Door and a handful of people were dancing in the center floor.

“Unbelievable,” Scully murmured.

“What?” Mulder asked.

Scully nodded slightly to the left.  “The woman at that table was my junior year trigonometry teacher.”

“That woman has to be a hundred years old,” he whispered back to Scully.  “Are you sure?”

“She looks exactly the same, even without the wimple and habit.”

“Your trig teacher was a hundred year old nun?”

“Shhh…”  Scully chuckled slightly and gave Mulder a mild backwards slap on the shoulder with her knuckles.

“Recognize anyone else?”

“I don’t think so.”

“I’m dying to know what Dana Scully’s high school crush looks like now, so be sure to point him out when you see him.”

“My high school crush didn’t go to my school.  He went to Missy’s.”

“You and Melissa didn’t go to the same school?”

“Missy refused to go to Catholic school past eighth grade.  She told our parents if they sent her anywhere but public school, she’d not only find a way to get expelled, she’d get excommunicated.”

Mulder laughed and Scully smiled at the memory of her sister threatening their parents with enough vehemence that instead of punishment, she actually got what she wanted.  Bill had been so annoyed that their sister wasn’t obeying the natural law of things, but Bill’s rigidity meant he was always annoyed at something.

Scully wandered the room with Mulder at her side.  In one corner someone had set up a table with a yearbook, a posterboard of old photos and a few class papers to peruse.  Mulder went for the newspaper while Scully inspected the photos.  Seeing the faces of her classmates jogged her memory a bit and she was able to pick out a few by name.

“Looks like your basketball team wasn’t all that bad,” Mulder said.

“Don’t remember.  Don’t think I ever went to a game, actually.”

“Chicken fingers will no longer be available in the cafeteria on Tuesdays, only Thursdays.  Harsh.”

“But, always fish sticks on Fridays.”

“Hey, Scully, you’re in here.”  Mulder opened the paper for her and she leaned closer.  “Senior debate team wins city finals.  There’s a picture.”

“That’s as far as we got.  We lost in regionals.”

“Bummer.  Left to right, Lisa Cunningham, Michael Smith, Dana Scully, Holly Campbell, and Rick Flanagan.”

“I wonder if Lisa will be here.  I’d be curious to know what she’s been up to.”

“No love for the other three?”

“Lisa was the most ambitious.”

“Not you?”

“Next to me.”  She smiled at him and he closed the paper.

They picked up some hors d'oeuvres from the buffet and sat down at an empty table for awhile.  A few people came up to chat, but it was clear they really didn’t know each other aside from a few shared teachers they could remember.  Mulder did finally get to meet Rosalee and her husband Paul, and they chatted like old friends for a bit, but Rosalee couldn’t sit down, she had people to greet.

At some point, the lights in the room dimmed just a little and more people began to gather at the dance floor.  Scully began to wonder when she might be able to convince Mulder it was time to leave when he suddenly stood up and offered her his hand.  She looked up at him, puzzled.

“Dance with me,” he said.

“Now?”

“No, at your fortieth reunion.  Come on, Scully.  Get up and dance with me.”

Scully took Mulder’s hand and he led her towards the dance floor.  Endless Love was playing.  She shook her head a little at him as he folded his hand over hers and put his other one at her hip.  She rested her arm over his so that her other hand lay on the back of his shoulder and they swayed casually, but she felt a little ridiculous.  He was dancing with her like they were in junior high and had never danced before.

“What are you doing?” she asked him.

“Leaving room for the holy ghost.”

Scully chuckled and stepped closer to him.  He immediately wrapped his arm around her and pulled her up to his chest.  Their joined hands came to rest near her chin.  It was both familiar and comfortable.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve danced with me,” Mulder said.

“It’s been awhile since you’ve asked.”

“Maybe I thought you’d turn me down.”

Scully didn’t respond, and for a few moments, she just closed her eyes and swayed with him.  He let go of her hand and brought his other arm down around her waist, crossing his wrists at the small of her back.  She hooked her arms under his and splayed her hands against the back of his shoulders.  He nuzzled her hair and she ran her hands up and down his back, but suddenly his posture changed a little and she looked up at him.

“Three o’clock,” Mulder said, without even looking at her.  “I think that’s...I think that’s Rick, from your debate team.”

Scully glanced over to where Mulder indicated and her brows lifted into tiny peaks.  “I think you’re right,” she said.

“Want to say hello?”

“I do, actually.”

Mulder loosened his hold on her and Scully backed out of his embrace, but she took his hand and led him from the dance floor.  Rick stood off to the side sipping punch.  He looked like he was trying to remain inconspicuous, but with his clergy collar, he stood out.

“Rick Flanagan?” Scully asked.  “Or, should I say, Father Flanagan?”

Rick smiled and lowered the plastic cup in his hand.  “Dana Scully,” he said.  “What would you like to argue about today?”

Scully returned his smile and Mulder chuckled.

“This is my...this is Mulder,” Scully said.  

Mulder and Rick shook hands.

“You don’t have to guess what I’ve gone on to do with my life,” Rick said.  “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“FBI,” Scully said.

“Ah, I would’ve guessed lawyer.  Never met anyone who loved an argument as much as you.”

“That hasn’t changed,” Mulder said.

“Don’t think I won’t shoot you in front of a priest, Mulder.”

“She’s just kidding, she left her weapon at home.”

“How’s your mother, Dana?”  Rick asked.  “I just remembered those days we would study at your house and your mom would put out the most delicious cookies I’d ever had.”

Scully hesitated a moment.  “She passed a few months ago, I’m afraid.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.  I’ll say a prayer for her soul.”

“I appreciate that, thank you.”

They talked for a few more minutes and then Mulder excused himself to use the restroom.  A few minutes after that, Scully excused herself as well and went to wait for Mulder in the lobby.  When he came back, she took his hand and steered him to the door.

“We’re leaving?” he asked.

“I only have so much social engagement in me,” she said.  “Let’s walk for a bit though, before we get the car.  It’s a nice night.”

“Sure.”

They walked hand in hand down the Baltimore streets.  Scully pointed a few places out to Mulder that she used to frequent in high school, or where those places used to be.  They circled back after awhile and Mulder gave the ticket to the valet to get their car.  As they waited, Scully put her arms around Mulder and rested her chin on his chest.

“Thank you,” she said.

“For what?” he asked.

“Making me come.”.

A mischievous grin spread across his face.  “No need to thank me,” he said.  “I always loved making yo-”

Scully reached up and put a hand over his mouth before he could finish the thought.  She shook her head at him and fought a smile.  He kissed the center of her palm and she took her hand away.

“It was actually really nice just to be out with you,” she said.

“We could do it more often, you know.”

“I’d like that, Mulder.  I’d like it a lot.”

“I would too.”

Scully smiled and then turned her head and rested her cheek against his chest as they waited for the car.

The End

[depressed-alone]

Dear Evan Hansen

So I posted this fic on wattpad and ppl liked it a lot (for some reason) so Im posting it here as well. 

tagging people who wanted to be tagged in my other fic (that i still havent started) if you want to be added or removed feel free to message me.

@screamingoutinrage @scaredysanders @evilmuffin @galacticallynonbinary @mythicalquill @pattons-potato

sorry for any mistakes but im on phone and i have no idea what im doing.

Summary: typical soulmate Au where the first words that you hear from your soulmate is tattooed on you since birth etc.. The idea came from tumblr but i dont know who wrote it actually so i cant credit them sorrry Warnings: death mention (dont worry its not mayor), DEAR EVAN HANSEN SPOILERS! Pairings: I think poly i mean idk i never wrote poly/lamp before but i mean enjoy lol Human! Au It was on his arm for so long. And he still didn’t know what it meant. I can’t believe Connor Murphy died. Who is Connor Murphy? Why is he dead? Why is this the first sentence he will hear from his soulmate? Why? Questions were building up in Virgil’s head. He spent the past 19 years of his life asking the same questions over and over again. He surely won’t find his soulmate after 19 long years. But his best, and only friend Patton still pushed him, still believed in him. He didn’t tell anyone, not even Patton what his tattoo said. Patton didn’t find his soulmate either and he was 20. But he never gave up. He went outside as much as he could, in hopes that someone will pass by and say these five words: This doesn’t make any sense. He also had no idea what his tattoo meant, what made sense but he was hopeful. And that is why they were sitting in Patton’s car to go the theathre. Virgil didn’t want to go, of course he didn’t he wasn’t the going outside type but Patton said he feels something is different. He couldn’t explain it but he said this night will change their life. And boy was he right. “C'mon Verge it’s going to be fun! I promise.” Patton beamed with a comforting smile. He loved going outside. Virgil didn’t. “Whatever. I still don’t like this idea. What are we even watching? I hope it’s something not that boring. But who am I kidding theathre is just boring..” Virgil said with a bored tone in his voice. He didn’t like theathre. It was dark, loud and they were sometimes singing. He didn’t like that kind of singing. He was more of the sad emo type. “It’s called Dear Evan Hansen! If I remember right it’s about two boys who go to high school. One of them is Evan Hansen and the other is… What’s his name? Verge check that little prospectus please. I think it’s on the backseat.” Patton said not getting his eyes off of the road. Virgil didn’t say anything just nodded and climbed to the backseat. It was not the easiest to find the little paper in the mess that was in Patton’s car but he succesfully pulled it out from between the two seats. “I found it” He said as he sat back in the front seat. “Check who’s the other boy in the play please. I can’t remember his name and you know I hate forggetting things.” Patton said. He didn’t hate a lot of things but his forgetfulness was one of them.

Virgil’s eyes scanned the paper for a few seconds when he spotted a name on the page. His breath caught up and he felt like he couldn’t breathe. “So what is it kiddo?” Patton asked. After a few minutes of silence he turned to look at Virgil who was just staring at the prospectus in front of him. “Connor Murphy” Virgil whispered and let out a shaky breath. “Is everything alright Verge? Do you want me to pull over?” Patton asked worriedly as he looked back at the road. He felt awful. He wanted to support his friend but he was in the middle of driving. Virgil stayed silent for the rest of the ride. He only shook his head when Patton asked if he wants him to pull over for the second time. “We are here Verge. Are you sure you don’t want to go home? You know it’s okay, I didn’t actually wanted to watch this that much, it doesn’t sound that interesting, so we can totally go home, it would be fine.” Patton rambled as an attempt to calm his friend down. Virgil just shook his head and started to walk towards the theathre pulling Patton with him. Virgil didn’t want to admit but he was actually kind of excited to see this musical. From what he knew it sounded interesting, but of course, it had to be ruined by some random person. “Will you tell me why are you so silent?” Patton asked as he was walking next to Virgil. The boy let Patton go when he was sure that he is following him. “No” Was all that Virgil said but it was enough for Patton to know not to push it. They will just enjoy this together and everything will be alright. They sat down in their seats at the front and waited for other people to fill up the theathre. Beacuse of Patton if they ever went somewhere together they were always super early beacuse Patton didn’t want to miss anything. The play didn’t start for another 15 minutes so Virgil decided to listen to music. As he reached in his pockets to grab his headphones he had to realize that they are in fact missing. “Are you searching for your headphones? Sorry kiddo but maybe today is the big day you can’t miss it out just beacuse you were listening to music.” Patton said with an apologetic smile. Roman’s Pov “Logan we have to go! It’s Dear Evan Hansen!” “I am aware Roman. But is it really that important? There’s no reason for me to go.” Logan asserted. “Yes there is silly. You might find your soulmate! But most importantly I might find my own soulmate. My princess. I’m sure she is beautiful and we will be a perfect match.” Roman exagerrated. “You shouldn’t assume Roman. You might be disappointed. What if it’s not even a girl? It can be a boy. Or a non-binary person. And what if you will be polar opposites. You set your bar too high, and that will cause disappointment.” The other boy stated. “You don’t understand Lo. I can feel it. We will be perfect. I can feel it.” The dramatic one said. “That makes no logical sense. And you can’t know for sure that you will meet them tonight. Also if you really want to see the play, we should go now or we will be late.” Logan pointed out. “Oh gosh you are right we need to go right now. C'mon Logan you don’t wanna miss the play do you?” Roman said and hurried out the door. Logan only sighed and went after the other boy. He was stuck with this drama queen till he finds his soulmate so he, secretly of course, also wants Roman to find his soulmate. And he would never admit it, not even to himself but deep down he too wanted to know who his “other half” is. It was stupid and illogical but he had to know. The theathre wasn’t that far away, it was maybe a ten minute walk and with Roman’s fast walking they arrived in less than five minutes. They went in and sat in the front row. Not that far away two boys sat around the same age. The only reason Logan noticed them is beacuse they looked like they are perfect opposites of each other. One of them wore a dark hoodie with purple paches and the other wore a blue t-shirt. The dark boy’s hair was in his face and his eyeshadow seemed to be under his eyes rather than on his eyelids. They looked odd but Logan didn’t think about them for too long. Everyone fell silent as the play started. Time skippity bc im lazyyy and also dont have any fucking time lol The first act has finished and there was a 15 minute break. Almost everyone stood up to go to the bathrooms or to call someone etc.. They passed in front of the two boys when Logan heard it. “I can’t believe it kiddo.” The sentence was followed with a sob which meant the person was crying. Logan grabbed Roman’s arm and pulled the royal boy with him. “Jesus nerd calm down you look like you just saw a ghost or something. What’s up with you? Why do you look so frightened?” Roman bombed the other boy with questions. “I saw him. My soulmate. I saw him. I heard the sentence.” Logan breathed out. “Why are you so weird? I thought you didn’t care. I mean I’m happy for you but you said you don’t care.” “I thought that too.” Was all Logan said before they heard the theathre guy tell them that they have to go back. Logan hurriedly went back to his row not even waiting for Roman. He kept muttering this doesn’t make any sense. Apparently he was too loud as he heard a squeal from next to him. Of course he was standning right im front of the odd boy with the other weird guy. “Virgil, Virgil, Virgil.” The boy shaked the dark one next to him. Logan just stood there looking at what the two were doing. “What happened Patt? Are you hurt? Why do you look so… happy?” The other boy, Virgil as he just learned his name asked. “Look!” He pulled up his cardigan’s sleeves and revealed that his tattoo was fading. Then Virgil noticed Logan standing there. “Oh. Cool. So you are the guy. That’s cool.” Virgil said as he put his headphones on. At least there was an attempt to put them back, when he heard it. “I can’t believe Connor Murphy died.” It was a boy who wore an outfit close to a Prince’s. There was no way that guy was his soulmate. “You! You are the one!” He shouted suddenly. The royal boy froze in his place and the two boys next to him looked in his direction as well. “Roman?” Logan asked. “Wait you know this guy? I don’t even know you. What’s your name anyways?” Virgil asked as he turned to Logan. “Oh apologise. My name is Logan and that right there is my roommate. His name is Roman. And it seems like you said the words that are on his back.” Logan stated. “Well Roman you spoiled the whole fucking play you know that right? You could have said literally anything else that didn’t contain these words but you, you had to say this. Thanks for spoiling this play. It was really great living my life in fear beacuse the word dead was on my arm. So really thank you.” Virgil scuffed. After a few minutes Patton broke the silence. “Verge calm down, it’s not Roman’s fault. It’s no one’s fault in fact.” The fatherly figure tried to calm both of the boys down. “You… you are a boy. And-and you wear all black and you literally just look like an emo nightmare. I’ve waited 20 years for this?” Roman asked as he pointed towards the dark boy. “Woah there. You don’t have to be mean. You don’t even know Virgil. You just critize him by his appearance. And that is not a good thing to do.” Patton said with a serious voice. “Very much so. Roman I told you. If you set your expectation too high you will probably be disappointed. Your soulmate doesn’t have to be a girl that is just plain stupid. Gender shouldn’t matter. Nor appearance. Personality is the one thing that matters.”

 Virgil’s eyes were scanning between the three boys in front of him. They were defending… him. Of course Patton always stood up for him, since he started high school the bubbly boy was always with him. But this new guy. He didn’t even know him. Why can’t the smart and kind boy be his soulmate? As he was thinking about this he felt something burning on his upper arm. It seemed like the three other boy experienced this too so they looked at each other then at their arms. He pulled up his sleeves and saw that the question What? was on his arm. But that’s not all. He also had I don’t understand and This makes no sense all tattooed on both his arms.

 "What?“ Patton suddenly asked. He was as confused as the others but everyone gasped as the word What started to fade from all of their arms. "I don’t understand.” Was the next sentence that started to fade from the boys’ arms. It was Roman who said this in complete confusion. “This makes no sense” Logan stated. The last sentence faded from Virgil’s arm. The other three looked at him. They all had the same sentence on their arm and Virgil said it immideatly. “I’m gonna faint.” He said and he fell to the ground. Or he would have fell if Roman didn’t jump behind him to catch him.

 okay so im ending this here beacuse im shit at endings sorry.

[rachello344]

ace-of-twos:  last night you reblogged a thing and one of the options was “tell me a story that happened to you”. i’m sorry this took so long to type. but here it is. i hope you enjoy reading it. sorry it’s a mess. 

… [Rachello344: I’m adding a readmore because damn is this a helluva story, but it is also quite long XD]

first thing you gotta know is that like any set of best friends, lex and i make terrible decisions. this includes deciding to go to the fair last minute which, yes, may sound like a great idea, but just wait for it. the second thing you gotta know is there are going to be a fuckton of asides in this story bc the entire day was a magical and incoherent wreck. 

there’s a fair that comes into town twice a year. i don’t usually go bc it’s hot and loud and god there are so many people. but lex convinces me and we go.

our first mistake: we arrived as it opened, at 1pm. 

our second mistake: from arrival to departure, we did not leave the fairgrounds. 

our third mistake: we stayed until approximately 8:30pm. 

keep in mind that those numbers, first and second and third, only really apply to that particular list. many mistakes were made that day. most, but not all, were made by us. it was terrible but also mostly hilarious. 

so, to get into the fair and actually get to the rides, you have to walk through a long kinda psuedo hallway filled with carnival games. giant prizes are hanging from the ceiling. one of these prizes is a dragon. it’s fucking adorable as shit. keep this in mind. it’s important. 

at about 2pm, both of us high on adrenaline, we decide to ride the tilt-a-whirl. i have never properly been on a tilt-a-whirl so a number of things happen in rapid succession. lex scares the shit out of me by making the carriage spin super fucking fast. (i thought you were just supposed to sit there and let the momentum spin you around. oh, how wrong i was.) i discover that i fucking love the tilt-a-whirl. i demand we ride it again. we get in line. when we get back to the ticket gate, the person managing the ride tells us that we’ll have to take another person in the carriage with us. this is fine until it’s revealed that this other person is a 10yro girl. 

lemme describe this girl for you: big, trusting eyes; dark skin; the sweetest smile; chocolate colored hair in a neat bob; matching shorts and top. basically she’s the most adorable small child i’ve ever seen. 

lex and i are 100% planning to spin the ride out of control. 

i am slightly worried for this child. maybe we shouldn’t do this. i really don’t want her to throw up, specifically on either lex or i bc we are idiots who live far away from the fair and yet brought no spare clothing despite the fact that fairs are messy places. to be fair, i also just really don’t want her to have a terrible time. but mostly the throwing up would be a downer. 

we spin the ride. 

for two seconds, i watch the small child with concern. and then she screams, the delighted kind, and i help lex turn the carriage into a poorly maintained and probably dangerous metal tornado. 

(s'all good, no one’s died at the fair in… years, probably. idk.) 

i’m pretty sure we made that kid’s day. we also probably made her parents want to kill us bc we definitely turned her into an adrenaline junkie. 

moving on. there’s a swing ride called the yo-yo. (yes, it’s exactly as terrifying as it sounds. the only ride that scares me more is the zipper.) lex initially doesn’t want to go on it bc tbh it’s a wee bit rundown. it’s an old fair, everything is a little broken, but this ride is like scarily old. but then she remembers some of the nostalgia or smth and we get in line. 

all the swings are individual seats, one in front of the other, around a thing that spins. a major fucking asshole sits in front of lex. 

i’m already scared out of my mind, no matter how fucking safe they claim to be those things do NOT feel secure, and then this guy? he starts swinging back and forth, trying to hit his girlfriend that’s sitting in front of him. he hits lex multiple times in the process. i was so close to strangling him but i really didn’t want to be arrested for murder and ruin an otherwise good day so i moved on. 

(also he and his gf spent the entire time before the ride got started making out????? like wow. can there be a limit on pda? like please? chill out.) 

you remember that dragon from earlier? let’s get back to it. 

okay, actually, one more aside. it’s time for lunch. lex and i have realized too late that fair food is fucking expensive. we spent all our money getting day passes so we could ride every single ride available to us. lex is a bottomless pit and i don’t eat much, but even i’m hungry. 

we do the obvious thing and beg my dad to drive out to the fair and give us money for food.

(yes, we had passes. this means we could’ve left and come back. no, we did not do that. in our defense, going home would’ve taken like an hour and then add in food prep time and actually eating it and then coming back? yeah, no. fair only comes once a year. it’s ride or die.) 

my dad gives us way too much money. yep, his mistake. like. giving a large amount of cash to teens wandering around a fair? not smart. 

despite the fact that we were both starving, it’s also fucking boiling out. we aren’t as hungry as we think we are. so we split a poutine and still have a ridiculous amount of money left. 

back to the dragon. 

we’d gone up to one of the stalls before and asked what we had to do to win one. the lady is old and kinda grumpy, probs not super happy about working around screaming kids, so instead of telling us how many balloons we had to pop to get a dragon (the information we were looking for) she tells us how much money to just straight up buy it. 

i’m hard of hearing and have problems processing auditory input so i do not hear what the price is. this is before lunch and i have fourteen dollars. 

she walks over while we’re trying to count out how much change i have and then shakes her head. she did not say fourteen dollars. she said forty. anxiety kicks in and it’s suddenly the worst moment of my life. 

after lunch, we have forty dollars leftover. we march up to the lady and i would love to say we shoved forty dollars in her face but we did not. we crouched over her counter for about ten minutes trying to figure out what combination of change equaled forty dollars. then i awkwardly poured it into her hand. 

she’s going to just give us the dragon but apparently she has to keep up the ruse bc she drops a handful of darts on the counter. we have eight darts between us and we have paid forty dollars. all i want is the dragon. 

we each throw four darts. it’s horribly sad to pay forty dollars and get a measly eight darts. but hey, the economy is shit. we are also shit. as in, we are awful shots. i think we managed to pop a total of three balloons. it’s far more likely that we only popped two. 

i tell myself that we aren’t paying for the darts, we’re paying for a dragon. 

the lady hands us a dragon. i forget that anything bad has ever happened to me in my life. i am so fucking overjoyed to have a dragon. like damn. 

the rest of this story happens much, much later. 

it’s about 7pm. lex and i have decided to go on one last ride and then leave. we’re both wearing shorts, have no jackets, and it’s getting cold out. so we get in line for the himalaya. 

(to explain, it’s kinda like a roller coaster but it only goes around a little circular track. they play really, really loud music the entire time the ride is going. it’s awful and amazing. esp bc they play weird shit like gangam style and old justin beiber songs. it’s weird. the ride spins forward for half a song and then backwards for the last half. there’s usually a guy standing by to make sure that everything runs smoothly but he also has another purpose. he sits there with his hands out and high fives as many people as he can. it’s amazing but as the lighter person i’m never on the outer edge so i can almost never reach him and it’s upsetting.) 

we’re waiting in line for the himalaya. we’re both tired. we’ve been here for six hours. both quiet. and then lex screams. 

she’s seen our friend chris on the ride. we did not know chris was there, had no plans to meet up with him. and chris is kind of awesome and bubbly and just all around a pretty cool dude. we both love him. 

so clearly, we spend the next couple of minutes making funny faces at chris every time the ride brings him closer to us. it’s what friends do. 

when chris gets off the ride, he’s here with some other people that we barely know but that isn’t important, we make plans to ride the himalaya together as our final ride. lex and i get on the ride and we’ll meet up later. 

(before then, we also persuade him to ride the tilt-a-whirl with us and scare the shit out of him by spinning it as hard as we can. there’s videos of him just screaming. it’s pretty great.) 

then it’s the last ride of the night. the himalaya. 

we all get in line. 

after such a good day, something just had to go wrong. 

we’re getting pretty close to the start of the line and there’s a pretty decent gap in the line bc it’s late and everyone’s lazy so lines tend to be disorganized. a group of teens is kinda chilling next to the line and they do the unthinkable. they attempt to slide into the line just ahead of us. 

this brings us to the part of the story where chris almost gets in a fight. 

chris may be an airhead but he absolutely will not stand for shit like that so he just holds his arm out in front of him like a shield and tells them to go to the back of the line. the teens do not take this super well. 

incorrigible as ever, they still jump the line but this time they end up just behind us in the line. everything is fine. and then the ‘leader’ starts talking shit at chris, backed up by his boys. 

(i should mention that chris is trans, pre-t, and fucking tiny. he also lacks comon sense. for all that he may be like three years older than me, he will always be my little brother.) 

so when the leader says, “if you ever fucking touch me again, i’ll grope your ass,” we all get a little defensive. also bc the guy’s a dick. 

there’s two kids in line behind us and in front of them. lex has noticed them, i did not. they’re middle schoolers. clearly. they’re full of energy, dancing and dabbing and just generally being walking, talking memes. lex is also a memelord. these are her people. so she turns to them and asks them to annoy the shit outta the guys behind them. 

being annoying middle schoolers who love chaos, they comply. 

at some point they ask us how old we all are. now, remember how i said chris is fucking tiny? he tells them he’s 21 and they don’t believe it. and of course, i’m 19 but i look 12 so they don’t believe me either. 

chris and i are both fucking extra so we dig out our wallets to present our id cards to these kids. and my wallet is a wee bit of a disaster. i’m also clumsy. so when i try to get it back in the bag, it doesn’t end well. i decide to just carry it with me on the ride and it’s all going great until i trip. all the cards spill out. 

now there’s this guy and i’ve seen him on several rides. he’s wearing sunglasses and a frown. i have not seen him smile all day. he also keeps texting during rides with is baffling to me. ENJOY THE DAMN RIDE. 

just giving you context so he’s clearly established as a douche. 

i trip right next to his car. as i’m struggling to pick up the contents of my wallet, he turns to me and says, “how many fucking cards do you need?" 

i’m not proud, but here’s my response: "how many fucking cards does your mom need?!” then i walked away. and keep in mind that half of my cards are still on the floor as i make my exit. (luckily lex grabbed them.) 

with that nonsense over, we attempt to get on the ride. 

now, i’m a fucking twig with legs and i’ve already said that chris is tiny. we figure that all of us will fit in the one car. we have forgotten to factor in lex’s fucking gigantic hips. she cannot fit in the car with us. so she gets out and looks around and spots them. 

the middle schoolers, they’re sitting behind us. 

lex approaches their car and says, i kid you not, “move fuckers, i’m getting in.” respectful of their meme elder, they allow this. 

we figure that’s enough adventure for one day so lex and i start to leave the fair. it’s been a long day. we are very tired. i say, wistfully, “damn, we should’ve gotten a picture with the meme children.” lex and i turn to each other, communicating non-verbally, and simultaneously turn to head back into the fairgrounds. 

and that’s the story of how i ended up following two children on instagram. 

[authenticaussie]

MAS

who’s the werewolf and who’s the hunter

Okay so I have part of this au written out and most of it is super super fluffy but!! alive!rouge and alive!roger and werewolf!Ace who grew up with this ridiculously extended pack and so so so many family members, from rouge’s pack and roger’s ridiculous collection of people, and like ?? When he’s younger and small and he’s a runt, he almost died, so Rouge and Roger and overprotective and Ace doesn’t mind, persay, but he like?? He gets angry?? Because he gets frustrated w/ himself a lot??? And he loves the pack, her really really does!! But they’re afraid that he’ll lose control of his shift and hurt someone. And they’re not afraid of him hurting someone because that other person may be hurt (they are kind, truly, but kindness only extends so far, and the world has hurt them far more than they have hurt the world). They are afraid ace will blame himself for whoever he hurts. They are afraid that Ace will grow up terrified of the wolf inside him and they don’t want that for him, right??

Despite their best efforts, though, Ace does scar a child; his best friend, and a hunter’s child, to make matters worse. Sabo calls them battle wounds, but Ace doesn’t know that until years after the fact, because Sabo was taken away by his parents after he was scratched. Just in case their child, their heir, turned into a-

one of them.

((Sabo’s scars are covered up with burns soon after that, though. What better way to out a monster than to terrify it with fire?))

So leaving off from that angst, lol, Sabo and Marco are hunters!! But whereas the Outlook fam is very much “all werewolves are evil monsters and need to be killed”, the Whitebeard fam is very much “things are taken on a case by case situation and also hey have you met my brother the kitsune??” 

So Sabo deals with trauma (badly) and learns magic and hunts but eventually escapes from his parents because he just…the way they do things just- can’t be right. It doesn’t feel right, and he doesn’t know why. And like?? He runs into Marco?? And neither of them know the other is a hunter at first but like, Sabo finds out first bc well, Marco’s not subtle abt the family he belongs to, and Sabo likes research and knowledge because that shit will protect him, and he’s really curious about Marco’s fam’s way of hunting ad like ?? I had more plot but I can’t remember it atm and this is already Super long pf FFFT

There’s technically two versions of the au lol, one is called Perks of a Pack ||| i will run to you till I die ||| to have and to hold (to give and to gain) and the other is you’re ripped and worn (but then again so am i)

ripped and worn has ace’s fam dying after Ace scratches Sabo tho sO likeeeeeee. I only write it when i want to write Angst TM

who’s the mermaid and who’s the fisherman

Ace and Sabo would make………….Cool fishermen, you know??? just imagine them laughing and teasing each other and fishing and ofc making bets about who can catch the most fish / the largest fish and then Ace winds up catching a mermaid and he’s like uhhhh does this mean I win???

who’s the witch and who’s the familiar

Ace and Sabo are witches and Marco is their long harried familiar!! He’s trying his best…Like you know the mar/sab mar/ace ones I did?? Basically imagine that but ten times worse bc like look the thing abt Ace and Sabo is that by THEMSELVES they do stupid shit, but TOGETHER?? Oh god, it totally gets compounded, like Sabo would be like “What if I threw this thing off the roof?” And Ace would be “What if it was on fire?” And then it just. It just escalates. To a ridiculous degree. Also like….I love birb!marco my guys….and birb marco just perched everywhere, glaring at people who flirt or threaten sabo/ace bc they’re Bad at noticing that shit and just like Everyone leaves the witches feeling vaguely off-put and confused about the Bird and not knowing why. 

Also also also I feel like Ace would have a lot of innate magic, whereas Sabo would be all memorising spells and potions and shit so just!! Imagine Sabo working in the garden or smth and Marco comes and just. Lands on his back. Sabo’s like jfc why. Every time, Marco, every time. Why this, c’mon. Also Marco has a bad habit of, like, when they’re younger, forgetting if he’s in birb form or human form???????????? And he Still forgets when he’s older, just not to the same (embarrassing) degree. So like, sometimes just sitting on them when he’s in human form and they’re like #dying bc jfc Marco could have you have found a worse position????

who’s the barista and who’s the coffee addict

Ace is the barista and Mar/Sab are coffee addicts. He makes lots of jokes about their blood being more coffee than blood at any one point in time and Marco just looked at him like, “Yes???????????? Your point?????????? Obviously we are more coffee than blood??”  

who’s the professor and who’s the TA

This one was so haaaaaaaaaaaaard wtffff (I’m Running out of modern school aus, pffft. Fantasy is easy. RL??? not so much)  So uhhhhhhhh I guess we’ll go w/ Professor Marco and Ace/Sabo TA? 

OH OH OH OKAY REMEMBER THAT POST “MY PROFESSOR’S A SUPERVILLAIN AND I WANT EXTRA CREDIT SO I’M WORKING AS A HENCHMAN”??? Imagine like!!!!! Hero/villain ace/sabo. Or more like?? Accidental anti-heroes Ace/Sabo who both think the other is a Bad Guy bc they don’t know the secret ID and like TR YING TO EXPLAIN TO MARCO WITH REALLY DUMB EXCUSES WHY THEY’RE LATE, OR BRUISED, OR HAVE MESSY HAIR and Marco’s like “They’re Totally Sleeping Together” and Ace and Sabo are like “wow we’re so glad that Marco/the other suspects nothing at all about us or our superpowers”. anD LIKE ALSO IMAGINE ACE/SABO HAVING A CONTEST TO SEE HOW MANY TIMES THEY CAN RESCUE MARCO. LIKE. ANGRILY FLIPPING THE OTHER OFF/TAUNTING THEM and Marco’s just being carried bridal style in this constant state of “??????”

“Hey uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I have exams to mark??? And I need to meet my TAs????”

“Oh shit” ace and sabo go and Sab bolts for it but ace is like n OOOOOO I CAN’T BE LATE BUT I HAVE TO GET MARCO DOWN SAFE FUCK MY LIFE And Marco’s like hey can you drop me off at the library??

“NO SORRY GOTTA GO” (poofs)

who’s the knight and who’s the prince(ss)

Can I just do Skies, lol??

Nah nah, okay so like, please, for a moment, imagine knight!sabo and prince!ace just. Switching places when they were kids???????????? Sabo would pretend to be ace and ace would pretend to be sabo and no-one would call them out on it bc they thought it was cute?? Like, they look so different. How did Ace/Sabo expect this to work?? And like, when they get older, they totally know that everyone’s just playing along but like…they just keep doing it, they think it’s fun, and Ace likes being treated normally by the guards and Sabo likes doing some of Ace’s lessons (the ones that interest him, at least, lol, if he gets bored he just sneaks off to the library or out to the guards again and mucks around w/ Ace and the other knights). And like, bc they’ve been switching for so long, they’re used to covering for each other, and teaching each other what they missed, and that’s why they were also allowed to get away w/ it, because they never fell behind in training or lessons??

ANYWAY NOW IMAGINE EVERYONE UTTERLY SLIPPING UP WHEN MARCO COMES TO VISIT. Like!? Ace/Sabo have switched for the day and someone calls Sabo “your highness” (or whatever you use, I’m sure there’s a sheet somewhere) and Marco’s like oh okay so this is Rouge and roger’s only son, the guy I’m meant to be marrying, I expected him to?? Look more like Roger I guess, but whatever?? And so he’s cordial and polite and flirtatious w/ Sabo bc ?? You know, might as well make the best of this, and it’s better to start on a good note w/ his new fiance.

But also he’s not used to going without training so later on he finds where the knights and the guards are and asks to train w/ them and there he meets the “knight” ace and gets really confused because Ace looks so much like Rouge and Roger, way more so than Sabo, but he’s a knight, right?? He can’t be the prince, Marco’s just met the prince. But tthey have a good, fun spar, and are dorks and flirt and Ace is Delighted with Marco and is kinda like oh so are you one of the prince’s guards?? But before Marco can answer another servant runs out and starts yelling at Ace and being like sir, sir, for god’s sake, why did you and Sabo switch today, your fiance is coming today and Ace is like ughhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh I didn’t want tooooooooooooooooooooo, I’m a knight today, and Marco’s like what Ace has a fiance too?? And what does he mean by ‘today’??? And bc he’s standing at the back of the crowd he doesn’t get spotted and like all in all Marco’s so confused. AND THEN THE DAY AFTER FOR BREAKFAST, HE GETS INTRODUCED TO ACE AS THE PRINCE AND HE’S LIKE (clutches head and lies down) please someone tell me what the fuck is going on here 

who’s the teacher and who’s the single parent

Marco’s the teacher and Ace/Sabo are trying so so so very hard not to fuck up raising Luffy, they only have like?? five years on him, that’s not much at all in the grand scheme of things, and they totally got shoved into this role and like, they were preparing beforehand but no amount of preparation really accounts for “hey look at all of these stressful, shitty things that happen constantly”. Anyway Marco’s science/english teacher and offers to help tutor luffy/give Ace and Sabo a hand bc he has his own sibling and understands how stressful organising schedules can be and he totally has no ulterior motives whatsoever, absolutely none, he just wants to help Luffy and being around Ace/Sabo more freuqently is just………….a totally unforeseen side effect.       

who’s the writer and who’s the editor

Ace writes!! Or, I mean, like?? artist!ace is my baby honestly, so it’s more so when he and sabo were kids they started making comic books????????? And Ace loves coming up with the most random stories, but Sabo’s the one who develops them and does characters and plot points and spins it all together. Marco’s the editor, ‘cause like, Sabo’s okay with grammer, but also it’s borrringgg. It just!! It’s interesting but!!! Not interesting enough for him to dedicate so much time to the nuances of it all. Meanwhile Marco, who like, has his entire day planned to the second to deal with his fam is like “what, nuances?? no, I’m totally lax about w HY DID YOU PUT A HYPHEN IN ONE SPELLING OF THIS WORD AND NOT THE OTHER”

[cyberstabbing]

Sci-fi/Dystopian future/Danger Days/idk

Heaven’s Not About Your Reputation - Desolation Row AU. The Tipper Laws have consumed the nation; more and more freedoms are being restricted every day. After getting thrown in jail for causing a riot with their illegal punk show, My Chem decides to do the logical thing: cause even more trouble. 28k

In Repair - "Shit,“ Frank mutters, and shoves both hands through his hair. He looks around the kitchen like he’s gonna find what he should do scratched into the old linoleum, then looks back at the bot. He gnaws on his lip. Fuck it. He already knows what he’s gonna do. He’s just gotta do it.

Getting down on his knees, he braces a hand on the edge of the crate and leans over the bot. It’s dressed in a plain white tee and matching drawstring pants like an escaped mental patient. Frank rolls his neck and cracks his knuckles, shaking the ache out of them before carefully laying his palm against its cheek. He’s pretty sure his voice is steady when he says, "Activate.”

Nothing happens. Fucking shitty packaging– the thing’s busted. But Frank keeps his hand where it is, jumping a little when he feels the surge of energy beneath it. The robot’s skin goes from room temperature to lukewarm, then warm. Frank watches it open its eyes, the light behind them adjusting until they’re a pale sort of brown. It looks at him and asks, “Am I dead?” 33k

sing it for the n00bs - Gerard would be killing twice as many dracs right now if his fucking spacebar would quit sticking. (Gamer AU, wherein the Danger Days universe is an MMORPG.) 17k

I was rereading this on a bus in France with my stepsister. She asked me what I was reading and I just squirmed around in my seat. So she shouted “FANFICTION??” And I was like … Well, I mean, yes–but hear me out!! And so I told her about Danger Days, the Killjoys and the whole gamer au concept.

She actually thought it sounded pretty cool. Or maybe she just wanted me to quit gushing about it and leave her alone.

The point is, if someone who just heard a second-rate description of this fic still thought it sounded interesting, that means it’s HELLA RAD. And it is. So. Read it.

The Way They Fly - Frank is a robot. He is in love with his genius creator, Gerard, who doesn’t realize that Frank is capable of real feelings. Frank starts breaking down, getting ill, and Gerard doesn’t know what to do to fix it - all his methods are completely useless, none of the programming explains why this is happening to his Frank - but it’s because Frank has a broken heart. 17k

Of Another Kind - Gerard is an alien on a mission–to find a human mate on Earth. He’s decided on Frank Iero, but his database doesn’t give him all the facts he needs to win over his future companion, and there are just some things he will have to learn on his own. 17k

Let The Darkness Lead You Home - Vampires are in charge and most of the humans on earth are prey, so Frank Iero’s parents have him train as a cyber tech to protect him. Leaving the family he’s born into may have saved his life, but his parents never could have expected the lengths he’d go to in order to find a new family to call home. 49k

The Chasing of Moons - The biggest dilemma in all of this is that Frank slept with his future husband. Now Frank’s just got to make sure that the future with him stays intact, but it’s not so easy when present day Gerard seems to hate his guts. 110k

Might I Have a Bit of Earth - Gerard took things. He didn’t used to take things; he used to ask before, say please and may I and other things his parents taught him, because that was what you did. You didn’t just take. 14k

Space pirates :D !!

Are You Broken? (from the Robot!Gerard series) - Frank gets sick and Gerard doesn’t understand. <1k (the series is 7k)

Lovely Way to Burn - Frank is no stranger to sickness. He’s been wheezing his way in and out of hospitals since he was a kid, but things are different now. He was already pulled from two assignments due to illness, and the third time is the charm. Three strikes and you’re out. 4k

video girl - This is a space AU that has more random worldbuilding than actual porn in it. In which Frank wanders into a virtual sex video booth. 1k

Reaching Through The Mirror - The one where Party Poison and Basement!Gerard have sex. 5k

(part one of Time Travel ‘verse)

James Cameron Got It Wrong - In which 2005!Frank and Fun Ghoul get it on. Then Frank accidentally winds up in 2019. 56k

(part two of Time Travel ‘verse)

yoooo i just found some really really REALLY good fanart. .. unbelievably good. and six years after the fic came out! that’s amazing!! anyway, here it is.

EDIT #2: found some more! Man, that fic just keeps giving.

EDIT #3: Damn it, the artist’s blog (second one) is marked as having “sensitive content”, so I couldn’t view it anymore on this account. So here is the post reblogged on a sfw blog for y’all youngins, and here is a screenshot juuust in case the sfw blog deactivates and that link stops working, too. 

The Science of Sleep - It’s 2011 and Frank Iero’s life is pretty average until the night where he starts getting dreams about a strange, apocalyptic California where there’s rayguns, grey corporations and terrorists who use art and color as a weapon. Interesting and fun at first, but the more he dreams about this world, the more he starts to wonder if it really is a dream… and the deeper he gets into this futuristic world, the more it seems to affect his life in the present day.

And just how exactly does everything all seem to link in with that douchebag black-haired artist who sits in Starbucks every day?

(Set in the Danger Days world but not necessarily following the cannon established by the album and music video’s.) 93k

Killjoys Never Die - No description. 2k

i want to die i want to die i want to die

Up Against Your Will (HERE is the chapter index) - Stepping into a world so different from their own, Frank and Gerard struggle to survive. 18 chapters

this was amazing, but also hard to read in some parts, bc of the non con and gore :/ not my cup of tea, but I did love the word building and the fic overall.

Fogs, Sheets and Thunder - Not as grey as it seems. A post-apocalyptic postal service AU. 5k

And ze art!

​The World Famous Extraterrestial Diner - Sure the menu had a picture of literally everything in it, causing the menu itself to be ten pages in total, but that was for the foreign visitors. And not just the ones from other countries, according to the owners.Gerard worked at a diner located directly on the famous ‘extraterrestrial highway’. The pictures were more for if any actual aliens ever came by Earth for a good meal and couldn’t speak English. They had the pictures to see exactly what was on offer. Even the beverages had their own separate pictures.Not that they had had any extraterrestial visitors since, like, ever. 8k

Born to Motorbabies - Here's the thing with having a crush on a mysterious DJ; it's kind of an inconvenient place to hang your affections. 12k

The person who’s rec list i snagged this from (can’t remember who, sorry!) added “​affectionately referred to as the dishwasher fic” which is v cute so I’m putting it here too.

...the weapon - Tattoos are one of the ways they measure out the time between getting ghosted. Inspired by Art is... 0.2k

Code Red - In the fall out of a fire fight, Party Poison goes looking for medicine, and finds pretty much the exact opposite of that. 2k Ship: Party Poison/Korse

Workplace Appropriate Attire - Korse is a creepy boyfriend. 1k

Ship: Party Poison/Korse

This was fun to read, but some lines made me go OH SHIT, because ...... well if you read this you will know what I’m talking about.

We Got Machines - There are questions on the lips of everyone with eyes or money on the arena. Who is this kid? Where’d he come from? Who trained him? BLind’s got no records on him, meaning he’s a Zonebrat returning to the grasp of the city of his own volition. Another anomaly. That a 16 year old nobody could waltz in out of nowhere and turn the system on its head is... concerning to BLind. <1k

Part 1 of KJ/Griefers 'verse (3.5k in total)

Ship: Deadmau5/G3rard

xoxoxoxo - Party Poison wakes up somewhere he's never been - but there's plenty that's familiar here. 1k

Ship: Party Poison/Korse

Looking for Satellites - Galaxy-hopping alien trader Gerard has business on space station Perseus Four. Getting to know station administrator Grant is a nice bonus. 25k Ship: Gerard/Grant Gerard is a sexy, telepathic and open minded (heh) alien and it’s great.

the only hope for me - Korse has never been one to show his emotions. 1k Ship: Korse/Party Poison

your kicks don't hit, so we remain the same - a battery city ambush goes somewhat wrong. korsepoison. 0.8k Ship: Korse/Party Poison

Methane Skies - Run, run, bunny, run. 3k

Hot damn this is some creepy and suspenseful stuff. Ship: (implied) Korse/Party Poison

mutilate, maim and destroy (just a tad) - For clarification, this fic is about Gerard Way the actual person being tortured by Korse in the Killjoys universe. Like. Hnng, you'll see nevermind. Ship: Gerard/Korse

A Room Full Of Suicides - His jaw was clenched and his whole body quivering. He looked right at Korse with those huge, transparent eyes. “Do what you want to me. I don’t give a shit, Korse.” He drew in a breath that shook. “You wouldn’t understand. It’s about standing up for what you believe in.” God, the kid was adorable. Korse couldn’t wait to make him scream. 4k Ship: Korse/Party Poison, Fun Ghoul/Party Poison (implied)

Of All the Places in the Universe - Gerard, an alien with a severe case of anomie and wanderlust, crash-lands in Jersey while traveling the galaxy. A chance meeting with a creature his studies had told him didn't exist leads to a surprising turn of events. With time, Gerard comes to call Earth home, and finds love with the adorable punk who found him--Frank, an energetic puppy of a werewolf who's really more bark than bite. 30k

"You know The Smiths?"

Gerard grinned. "Oh, yes! They're one of my favorite Earth bands."

Thank You For The - Just an alien in New Jersey, looking for a mate. 0.5k Ship: Gabe Saporta/Mikey Way

"Have fun," Gerard said, even though he'd just told Mikey he couldn't have fun because he needed to be careful. Mikey wished his venom sacs were fully developed. He would spit on Gerard's shoes.

Double Exposure - “The worst part was the confession. Well, the explanation sucked too.” Written for prompt 38. Frank/Mikey - Frank and Mikey bodyswap during tour and have to play shows as each other. 2.5k

Frank isn’t part italian in this fic. He’s part alien! :D Ship: Frank/Mikey

[batsysims]

100 QUESTIONS NO ONE ASKS

I was tagged by @tickledsims ty ily!!

1. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR CLOSET DOORS OPEN OR CLOSED? CLOSED when i was younger my little sister had a baby doll that would talk on its own at night and we called it the demon baby and hooooly shit

2. DO YOU TAKE THE SHAMPOOS AND CONDITIONER BOTTLES FROM HOTELS? i dont take those bc my hair cant take cheap hair products but i do take the soaps!!

3. DO YOU SLEEP WITH YOUR SHEETS TUCKED IN OR OUT? i put the mattress cover sheet thingy on my bed but i dont use an actual sheet :/

4. HAVE YOU STOLEN A STREET SIGN BEFORE? nah lol

5. DO YOU LIKE TO USE POST-IT NOTES? YES i love using office supplies i could spend all day at staples omg

6. DO YOU CUT OUT COUPONS BUT THEN NEVER USE THEM? no lol but il save the lil receipt coupons and find them in my wallet months after they expire

7. WOULD YOU RATHER BE ATTACKED BY A BIG BEAR OR A SWARM OF BEES? hhhhh bees

8. DO YOU HAVE FRECKLES? yep!! i love them its why im scared to use foundation i dont wanna lose em

9. DO YOU ALWAYS SMILE FOR PICTURES? i either smile or if my moms takin the pic il make a stupid face 

10. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVE? i have terrible road rage...... um........... i also hate it when men interrupt me i just walk away at that point 

11. DO YOU EVER COUNT YOUR STEPS WHEN YOU WALK? yeah i pretty much count everything

12. HAVE YOU PEED IN THE WOODS? i dont think so??

13. HAVE YOU EVER POOPED IN THE WOODS? def not lmao

14. DO YOU EVER DANCE EVEN IF THERES NO MUSIC PLAYING? i have an eating dance, a drinking dance, and a video game playing dance hahaa

15. DO YOU CHEW YOUR PENS AND PENCILS? yes ugh it annoys me but i cant stop

16. HOW MANY PEOPLE HAVE YOU SLEPT WITH THIS WEEK? at LEAST 0

17. WHAT SIZE IS YOUR BED? i think its a single? a single or a twin either way im miserable send help

18. WHAT IS YOUR SONG OF THE WEEK? ummm probably You by Weird Milk?? its the most recent song i added on spotify so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

19. IS IT OK FOR GUYS TO WEAR PINK? yeah def unless its one of those “real men wear pink shirts” like just.... stop

20. DO YOU STILL WATCH CARTOONS? sometimes my sister makes me watch stevens universe?? il watch phineas and ferb too bc honestly who doesnt anime too but not always cartoon ones or w/e

21. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE MOVIE? 2001: A Space Odyssey and Daughters of the Dust come to mind

22. WHERE WOULD YOU BURY HIDDEN TREASURE IF YOU HAD SOME? u kno where ;) no how big is the treasure?? if its a lil bit id put it in that drawer under the oven bc my family never uses that but if its BIG TREASURE id hide it in the backyard of the last house i lived in bc a. nobody lives there now and 2. its totally overrun with green bc of like two floods

23. WHAT DO YOU DRINK WITH DINNER? water! only water ever

24. WHAT DO YOU DIP A CHICKEN NUGGET IN? honey if theyre mcnuggets but other than that i use honey mustard!

25. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FOOD? chicky parm

26. WHAT MOVIES COULD YOU WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN AND STILL LOVE? honestly Inception is my feel-good movie

27. LAST PERSON, YOU KISSED/KISSED YOU? a lil babu

28. WERE YOU EVER A BOY/GIRL SCOUT? i was in girl scouts much longer than i ever wanted to be lmao WISH i coulda done BOY SCOUTS

29. WOULD YOU EVER STRIP OR POSE NUDE IN A MAGAZINE? if cash is involved absolutely

30. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WROTE A LETTER TO SOMEONE ON PAPER? aboutttt three months ago!

31. CAN YOU CHANGE THE OIL ON A CAR? no but i can watch

32. EVER GOTTEN A SPEEDING TICKET? when i first got my license yea :( 15 yr olds are dum

33. EVER RAN OUT OF GAS? twice! very good memories

34. WHAT’S YOUR FAVORITE KIND OF SANDWICH? egg salad gud

35. BEST THING TO EAT FOR BREAKFAST? the all star breakfast at waffle house yasssss

36. WHAT IS YOUR USUAL BEDTIME? honestly like 9 since i always have to wake up at 7 in the am but il stay up til 11 if i can

37. ARE YOU LAZY? absolutely when have ACTIVE ppl done ANYTHING

38. WHEN YOU WERE A KID, WHAT DID YOU DRESS UP AS FOR HALLOWEEN? i was usually a cat bc i never could find a costume i liked smh but when i was 2 i went as winnie the pooh lmao

39. WHAT IS YOUR CHINESE ASTROLOGICAL SIGN? ox!

40. HOW MANY LANGUAGES CAN YOU SPEAK? just english but im tryna learn spanish and japanese and im fluent in french if a two year olds speech patterns can be considered as such

41. DO YOU HAVE ANY MAGAZINE SUBSCRIPTIONS? nah

42. WHICH ARE BETTER: LEGOS OR LINCOLN LOGS? LEGOS lincoln logs are big with nostalgia thoooo

43. ARE YOU STUBBORN? with dumb shit yeah but i usually just dont care enough abt stuff to deal

44. WHO IS BETTER: LENO OR LETTERMAN? theyre both old idc

45. EVER WATCH SOAP OPERAS? no lol

46. ARE YOU AFRAID OF HEIGHTS? not really tbh i like the adrenaline

47. DO YOU SING IN THE CAR? if im alone!! nobody deserves to hear that

48. DO YOU SING IN THE SHOWER? nahhh

49. DO YOU DANCE IN THE CAR? when im in the drive thru haaaa

50. EVER USED A GUN? id like to go to a shooting range some time but ive never used one im also very anti gun so i probs would never buy one unless it was a cute lil glock i can handle well

51. LAST TIME YOU GOT A PORTRAIT TAKEN BY A PHOTOGRAPHER? st patricks day it wasnt technically for me tho

52. DO YOU THINK MUSICALS ARE CHEESY? not in general but when ppl start obsessing over a certain one for months on end abt a certain time period and certain performers and certain songs and certain people of history i start wanting ppl to die

53. IS CHRISTMAS STRESSFUL? YEAH I NEVER HAVE MONEY WTF

54. EVER EAT A PIEROGI? my sisters obsessed with them so yea but never like. authentic polish potato pockets or anything just a frozen box of em

55. FAVORITE TYPE OF FRUIT PIE? apple?? im not rly into pie tbh

56. OCCUPATIONS YOU WANTED TO BE WHEN YOU WERE A KID? ive wanted to go into law enforcement/criminology my whole life!! for a sec i wanted to be a firefighter, a journalist/writer/poet, and some sort of artist but u know how kids are

57. DO YOU BELIEVE IN GHOSTS? i tried to find that clip from malcolm in the middle for like ten mins but i couldnt yea

58. EVER HAVE A DEJA-VU FEELING? doesnt everyone tho?

59. DO YOU TAKE A VITAMIN DAILY? no im a bad adult

60. DO YOU WEAR SLIPPERS? nah

61. DO YOU WEAR A BATH ROBE? im not rich!!

62. WHAT DO YOU WEAR TO BED? usually just my undies but when im living with other people il wear a soft shirt and my dc heroes pajama bottoms ayyy

63. WHAT WAS YOUR FIRST CONCERT? ive never been to one! i was gonna go see metallica in baltimore but i moved before i could smh

64. WALMART, TARGET, OR KMART? walmart sry targets cool but too much money!!! i go there for home things tho does kmart still exist

65. NIKE OR ADIDAS? ADIDAS ive been trying to get a full adidas tracksuit for YEARS

66. CHEETOS OR FRITOS? fritos! i like the super hot cheetos tho

67. PEANUTS OR SUNFLOWER SEEDS? peanutsssss

68. EVER HEAR OF THE GROUP TRES BIEN? Nope but they must be good im keepin @tickledsims response bc it made me laugh

69. EVER TAKE DANCE LESSONS? when i was a lil babu i took ballet and gymnastics a lil later

70. IS THERE A PROFESSION YOU PICTURE YOUR FUTURE SPOUSE DOING? i hope to never have a spouse  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

71. CAN YOU CURL YOUR TONGUE? yep

72. EVER WON A SPELLING BEE? ive actually never even had a spelling bee im sure theyre a myth

73. HAVE YOU EVER CRIED BECAUSE YOU WERE SO HAPPY? i think so??

74. OWN ANY RECORD ALBUMS? nah

75. OWN A RECORD PLAYER? nahhhhh

76. DO YOU REGULARLY BURN INCENSE? no but i had a roommate who did i fell in love

77. EVER BEEN IN LOVE? yeah ok lol so one time when i was a sophomore my french teacher had to use a substitute teacher and hes the reason i believe in love at first sight im STILL in love with him wtf ive also had a bf haha im hilarious

78. WHO WOULD YOU LIKE TO SEE IN CONCERT? i dont really do concerts so i couldnt say but i think matd would be fun!!

79. WHAT WAS THE LAST CONCERT YOU SAW? oh my god

80. HOT TEA OR COLD TEA? hot!!!!

81. TEA OR COFFEE? coffee!!!!!!

82. SUGAR COOKIES OR SNICKERDOODLES? i dont rly like either but i prefer snickerdoodles over sugar

83. CAN YOU SWIM WELL? i can only do that weird frog swim i forget what its called so no im shit at it

84. CAN YOU HOLD YOUR BREATH WITHOUT HOLDING YOUR NOSE? ye

85. ARE YOU PATIENT? if im able to distract myself?? it also depends on the severity of what im waiting on i guess

86. DJ OR BAND AT A WEDDING? probs a band i guess i dont rly think abt that kinda stuff sry

87. EVER WON A CONTEST? when i was four i won a coloring contest at the ice cream store

88. HAVE YOU EVER HAD PLASTIC SURGERY? nope im poor 89. WHICH ARE BETTER: BLACK OR GREEN OLIVES? both are good!

90. CAN YOU KNIT OR CROCHET? i can knit but i cant crochet

91. BEST ROOM FOR A FIREPLACE? fckn bathroom

92. DO YOU WANT TO GET MARRIED? not rly unless its a partnership longlasting romance stresses me out especially with financial responsibility etc

93. IF MARRIED, HOW LONG HAVE YOU BEEN MARRIED? -20 years

94. WHO WAS YOUR HIGH SCHOOL CRUSH? my high school boyfriend hahaaa h,,,,

95. DO YOU CRY AND THROW A FIT UNTIL YOU GET YOUR OWN WAY? im an adult sry

96. DO YOU HAVE KIDS? 1!

97. DO YOU WANT KIDS? nope! lmao i love her tho

98. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE COLOR? red but i also like many others??? idk

99. DO YOU MISS ANYONE RIGHT NOW? ummm not rly?? im not close enough to anyone to miss them and those i am close to im able to hang with

100. WHO ARE YOU GOING TO TAG TO DO THIS TAG NEXT? god uhhh if you havent done it already and want to, @dreambot @nebula-simms @ellowynsims and @pixelbloom