#n music! music. & stories. my fucking passions along with science.

[hyperfixationtimego]

Happy little hcs to atone for my sins

Taka and Hina are study buddies

Sometimes Aoi manages to get Taka off track because she’s just so enthusiastic and wants to hear about all of her friends’ hyperfixations and special interests

37.2 minutes later

Taka’s infodumping about how he despises moral philosophy but also thoroughly enjoys it bc that’s how moral philosophers are

Or he’s infodumping about political science and debate tactics and how speeches were effective or not for various reasons

Sakura and Mondo work out together

It started off as a coincidence when they were in the gym at the same time but it kept happening so they called it a schedule

They talk about their SOs and they’re smiling

Sakura teaches Mondo certain stretches and exercises to help relax different muscle groups for whenever he pulls a muscle or has a flare up from the thing with the bikes

Leon constantly asks Chihiro to turn alter ego into a vocaloid or at least program a bit of that tech into their system

Bc he would rather shave his head again than talk to Sayaka about producing music

He just has so many ideas

And it’s cool when there are kinda punk rock songs that are covered in an 8-bit or a vocaloid style

Byakuya and Celeste have a small series of bets with low stakes about what their inferiors classmates will do to lead up to them jingling away morosely like the fools they are

Sayaka shamelessly advertises her group’s mercy to her classmates and friends

Everyone gets their nails painted at some point

Nobody knows how Byakuya got roped into it but it worked

Makoto has rainbow loom

Atua forgives you

anyway YEAH LEGIT?

Hina has fully and thoroughly fallen in love with all of her friends and classmates’ expressions whenever they’re talking about something that excites them omg 🥺

she sees someone rambling and having a good time and hears the enthusiastic pitch of their voice as well as the general Vibe™️ that they’re giving off and she just???? [Y E A R N]

:)

and also just???? her and taka being study buddies is so valid oh my god??? they’re really close because of it!!! And Taka always loves hanging out with her because he knows she’ll let him just Talk??? and he adores that about her????? And she’ll be ENGAGED which!!!!!! oh my god!!!!?????

hi in this house we love and adore hina

And Sakura and Mondo???? absolutely?????

they have friendly competitions over who can lift the most weights/do the most reps/etc. (they do it sparingly, ofc! bc Sakura at least knows that they’ll both be subconsciously trying to beat the other as opposed to listening to what their bodies need in the moment. Sakura is the single braincell of class 78 no I won’t take it back because it’s true)

and they totally doooooo like they both get such cute loveydovey pining expressions whenever it’s Their Turn™️ to discuss the latest cute thing their partner(s) did. and listening to the other talking???? oh my god it’s literally the neatest thing????

Sakura looking at Mondo: I would die for this man

Mondo looking at Sakura: this woman is literally beauty and perfection in human form

THEY’RE SUCH GOOD FRIENDS OKAY???

also chihiro joins them for training sometimes!!!! She obviously isn’t able to do as much as the other two are, but both Sakura and Mondo are always so proud of her progress??? They’re like “you are so cool and strong do you know that??? you better know that”

and speaking of chihiro hdbdvdvdvdvdvdvdvd on GOD Leon will Not leave them alone abt it and they’re just like

“y....you do NOT have the attention span,.......you’re gonna get frustrated within like the first five minutes......and then I’ll have done all that work for nothing..............”

but Leon’s >:( no I won’t!!!! music is my Passion!!!!!!!!

so it’s like *sigh* okay

and anyway leon genuinely does rlly like it???? like he gets burned out very easily and can only compose things in short bursts, but he’s always so so so proud of the finished products??? (Even if nobody else likes it but shush 😌)

and it makes chihiro :D to know that something she made (even if it was done with reluctance) has brought one of her closest friends so much happiness????? she’s also like good for Leon but also if he ever bothers them about something like that again they are Literally Going to Snap but that’s another story for another day vwv

AND YEAH LIKE. HE DOESN’T MIND TALKING TO HER ABT MUSIC IN GENERAL BECAUSE IT’S AN INTEREST THEY SHARE (quite possibly one of the only times they will have a conversation without one constantly insulting the other ❤️) BUT. ADMITTING TO HER THAT HE NEEDS HELP WITH IT IS THE WORST HE HATES IT HE HATES IT HSBDBSBD

god okay so. his first impression of her when they had just come to hope’s peak and met for the first time was “oh my god!!! she’s a pop idol!!! so she must know a lot about music!!! maybe she’ll help me become a popular musician!!!” and her immediate reaction when she first heard him ask was to literally roll her eyes and he was like oh okay fuck her actually

and then slow burn enemies-to-friends 💛

WHEBDVSVS CELESTE AND BYAKUYA JUST BEING RICH ASSHOLES IS SO FUNNY??? LIKE THEY HAVE WEALTH SOLIDARITY AND THEY ACT ALMOST LIKE alright your status makes you worthy of my time, I suppose-

they’ve had bets on everything from how many times kirigiri will pass out from exhaustion by the end of the school day, to how long it’ll take before Kirumi finally Loses Her Shit, to how many people will be harmed by Komaeda’s luck while hanging out with him.

Mfs about to die smh

and dhdbwvwbsvwvwb yeah like??? sometimes a normal conversation with maizono will turn into her being like “yeah, and by the way, if you’re looking for a change of style and wardrobe, you should check out the newest shirt my band just released as part of our merch drop, and-”

Makoto is the one who gets baited into her merch ads most often sndbsbsbdbdbw

even mentioning the word “merch” around Leon or Kaz will earn her a lot of groaning and sighing, and occasionally a pillow or other soft object being hurled at her face 💛

oh my god they all have a manicure spa day,,,,,,,class bonding 🥺

hdbdvdvdv they got Jill to break into his dorm and kidnap him ngl like the specifics they gave her were something along the lines of “use as much force as you need to without killing him” and she was like “DONE”

and okay I’m not gonna talk abt everyone’s nails but now I’m thinking about it and like-

Sayaka gets like a lighter violet background with gold and white stars smattered around them, more concentrated in some areas than others, and it’s generally very pretty 🥺

chihiro’s are a different solid pastel color on each finger!!! it’s very kidcore and fun and they love it so muchhhh!!!

leon gets a little self-conscious when it’s his turn because his nails are highkey disgusting from all the time he spends playing baseball - there’s dirt trapped under them and everything so he’s just like hhhhhhh anxiety go brrrr but anyway he gets solid black because he’s edgy and cool like that 😎

I think Taka gets a French manicure with little dark red flowers pressed towards the tips because!!! simple yet pretty!!!

Celeste probably takes the longest because her request is sooooo complicated like it’s black and red and long ass acrylics with overlapping patterns and everyone else just kinda sits there feeling h o r r i b l e for that poor nail stylist

Toko gets a checkerboard pattern, with each nail having a different neon color in place of white!!! Because she knows that Jill will find it cool and pretty and colorful the next time she fronts (visual stimming jill?? 👀)

Togami just picks whatever will get him out of the chair quickest hdbsvdvdvdbdbdb

anyway Makoto????? rainbow loom????? absolutely

he has so many bracelets!!!!! so many so many so many and he knows how to create such a wide variety of styles it’s so cool!!!!!! he wears a bunch of them at any given time because they are so fun to fidget with!!!! and rubber texture hvvvvhvv!!!!

and he creates personalized ones for his friends, too, like he knows their favorite colors and sometimes picks up on whether they prefer a certain style or not from the way they react to the other ones he’s made and it’s!!! just so neat!!!!!

I’m thinking about it and!!! he has a bi pride fishtail, a trans pride arrow stitch, a black and neon green railroad, a pastel pink/blue/purple/yellow ladder, a jelly yellow and green dragon scale, a rainbow double cross, and a bunch more!!! he also has a bunch with charms and beads added into them!!!!

He also makes them for his friends even if he knows they won’t wear them!! Like Toko, for example, isn’t the biggest fan of jewelry because she doesn’t like the texture, but he creates one for her anyway and fills it with so much love (it looks like a daisy chain!!!! because at least she’ll be able to look at it and hold it and still be interested in it without it needing to be on her wrist!!!)

he makes a ton of bright colored ones for Mukuro (usually either single or inverted fishtail because he knows she wouldn’t enjoy wearing anything too heavy or overbearing) so that she has more mobile visual stims!!!

similar for Jill!! although most of hers tend to be black and bright neon rainbow in various bulkier styles!!!! Jill will also force him to let her look at his bracelet-covered arm whenever they hang out because. my god,,,,,,so many Colors™️

he’s found that togami prefers black and white simpler styles, and that Kyoko absolutely adores singles, fishtails, and double fishtails in any shade of purple, and that Mondo likes any of the larger styles in darker colors + blacks and grays!!! Chihiro loves anything with jelly and glitter bands!!!

Leon usually only wears one at a time, but he cycles through every single one that his boyfriend’s ever made for him because????? GOD they’re so cool and his boyfriend is so crafty and incredible and just,,,,,,,,,hvvvhvv every time he looks at the one he’s wearing he’s able to calm himself down and remember that Makoto loves him........it’s also very good for stim and fidgeting <3

anyways sorry yes Makoto with a rainbow loom is filling me with serotonin and it’s canon now

[longitud-de-onda]

Porque el querer causa pena, pena que no tiene fin

pairing; mad sad genius (we never got a name) x reader summary; you can love someone with all your heart, but nothing compares to the madness that exists in their absence rating; t warnings; language, a bit of alcohol, angst, it isn’t specifically covid-19 but it is a pandemic science fiction story, so the quarantine and other situations are taken to the extreme which could be potentially triggering depending on how you’re handling the quarantine. word count; 3.0k a/n; this is fanfic for ngozi anyanwu’s for all the lovesick mad sad geniuses which aside from pedro’s amazing performance, is a brilliant monologue. we’re taking the title from the rosalía song (maldición, cap. 10: cordura) that helped inspire this.

You met him at an art gallery. It was your own show, and you were standing in the corner drinking wine from a clear plastic cup, the edge of which was sharp against your lips. You held a paper plate with five almonds, a mozzarella and tomato crostini, and a mini chocolate cupcake carefully balanced in your other hand.

He was standing in front of your favorite piece. No one else was. Probably because the gallery owner told you it wasn’t the sort of work that would stop anyone. That out of all the work in your collection, it was the type that belonged in the back, where it would be found by the people who cared enough to wander there, whose interest would likely be piqued enough for them to enjoy it. It hurt to hang it up on the back wall and not up in the front where you wanted it.

But he hadn’t stopped at everything else. He had walked into the gallery minutes before, giving every painting a quick glance before settling on the one in front of which he was standing. He had been there for almost five minutes before you decided to walk up next to him.

He looked over upon seeing you approach and your heart stopped. He was the most beautiful person you had ever seen. His smile reached his eyes and you found yourself falling into them. You almost asked him if he would model for you.

You didn’t paint portraits.

“This one is beautiful,” he told you.

You smiled and took a sip of your wine. You didn’t need convincing that it was beautiful. That much you already knew. It was the one piece you were confident beyond belief about.

“What do you like about it?” you asked, jutting your chin up at the painting in question.

“The artist seems to have cared. You can see the brushstrokes. They’re more detailed than the others. Someone only spends that much time on something they really care about.”

That was when you fell in love with him. Thirty-three words. That was all it took.

Your first date was dinner after the gallery closed for the night and he dragged you out to his favorite burger joint because he said you deserved it after opening an exhibition. After wolfing down more than enough food and splitting a tub of fries, you spilled out onto the streets in a pile of laughter and joy and you’ll never forget the look on his face when you asked for his number.

Your second date was a night you’ll never forget. He had taken two days to contact you after the first night, and you had begun to worry you would never hear from him again, but he called you and said he wanted to meet you at 6pm the next day and to dress nicely. You showed up where he told you too and he was there with that goddamn smile.

He took you to a Chinese restaurant and said I’d take you somewhere nicer but I don’t think you’re that kind of woman. And you would have slapped any other guy in the face but he looked so earnest and he was right about you. It was like he could read you like a book. And when you laughed he’d sometimes stop laughing with you just to stare with a certain reverence that made you question what you did to deserve the sort of man who looked at you that way.

He took you past all the big theaters showing musicals and stopped at one tucked away with a modest set of doors but the grandest entry hall you had ever seen. You let him lead the way as he took you through the doors into the auditorium and you walked down the aisles to seats near the front.

You didn’t know what you had done to let him know you loved comedies, but he had picked out the perfect play. By the time it was over your stomach hurt from laughing so hard and your eyes held the watery ring around them from your tears. You hit the cool night air just as it started raining, and any other time you would have run for cover but with him and his smile next to you, you didn’t give a shit.

The aimless wandering that night was your favorite part. You were doubled over laughing as he told you the parts of the play he liked, and the parts he didn’t.

“She was a fucking genius and a poet, you know?” he said.

“Who?”

“The playwright.”

“What? Why?” you asked.

“She wrote a play about another fucking genius,” he said. “And despite it being the funniest shit ever made, it still had all those deep-ass lines. You know, like, ‘If you got one friend when you die then most people never have something like you.”

And he didn’t know why you started giggling until you calmed yourself enough to tell him what the real quote was in between fits of laughter. He had that look from earlier that night on his face. The one where it was like he didn’t even know you could see him. He gazed at you like he could see you. Not just on the surface, but underneath everything too. Like he could see every thought that went through your head and took the time to hold every one and appreciate it before letting it go.

He leaned down to kiss you and you tilted your head up to meet him and you wondered how you hadn’t kissed him before. Why you didn’t when you said goodbye your first night. Why you didn’t when you were getting to know him over a burger. Why you didn’t let him kiss you that first fucking moment when you fell in love, right there, after he told you about your own goddamn brush strokes.

You fell in love all over again the following weekend when he took you to his favorite spot in the park, a large grassy hill overlooking all the kids playing below and you spread out a blanket and ate sandwiches that he had put into little ziploc bags. You told him that he should have packed some wine and he said baby, we didn’t need any alcohol our first two dates and you flushed and told him about the wine you had at the gallery and he laughed.

“I probably wouldn’t have had the guts to walk up to you without it,” you protested when he jokingly expressed mild disappointment.

“If you hadn’t walked up, I probably would have shouted ‘where’s the fucking artist, I need to talk to her!’ by the end of the night,” he said, and you found yourself laughing again.

“Wouldn’t be the weirdest thing that’s happened at one of my exhibits,” you said.

You met him every morning before work to go out for coffee, even if it meant waking up an extra hour early because he’s a morning person. You had his coffee order memorized by the third day.

He invited you to his apartment one day and you found yourself laughing over home videos of him as a kid late into the night. When you said goodbye, your heart yearned to stay. To take one of his shirts and wear it as you curled up next to him in bed. Instead, you kissed him good night.

After dinner one evening, you brought him to your place and showed him the little studio you had in the most well-lit room. He spent almost an hour exploring it, asking you questions about every little thing, the brand of paints you liked best, the angle you preferred to set your easel, your favorite tools, your favorite color, and telling you how honored he was to be in the workplace of a genius.

You didn’t tell him he was the smartest person you had ever met.

You didn’t tell him that he was the genius out of the two of you. That he could talk about his work and you could listen for hours to his voice but not understand a single word he said. That he would talk like no one was listening and then say the most serious shit. The sort of thing that made you rethink life, and by the time you had escaped from your thoughts he was already on another topic, rambling about the multitudes of things he loved. He saw the beauty in everything.

How the hell could a man like him love you?

He was the sort of person you would hear about in movies. The type to never stop dreaming. Someone watching the two of you would think you both mad. He had his head in the clouds and you would watch from below in awe as if his brain was firing off fireworks, and then you would speak about anything and he would give you that smile and that goddamn look that drove you crazy.

Your entire life he was there, living his own life without ever having met you, and you often wondered how many times you had almost met. You lived in the same city, surely there must have been times. Hundreds if not thousands of moments in which your paths nearly crossed. Whether what kept you from meeting was a mere 3 feet of distance in a crowd or a mere 3 minutes of time and space in which one of you was running late or early to something along which way you would have found him.

But you were lucky to have met him when you did. Gotten to share the brief moments while they lasted. That was before the virus hit.

You were sitting on his kitchen counter, covered in acrylic paint he had bought at the grocery store as the two of you detailed messy renditions of Van Gogh’s work on his cabinet doors, and he had wrapped his dirty hands around your waist, leaving two purple handprints on your painting shirt, and pulled you into a kiss. And this one was different. It was deeper, searching for more. There was more heat and passion. Your whole relationship, months of it, had been slow and beautiful and intimate, but there were times where it was more like friendship then romance and neither of you minded as you walked along the fine line between the two, happy with the state of things as they were. But you had loved him since the first day and you didn’t mind the idea of, one day, collapsing naked and sweaty into bed with him instead of snuggling up against his side as he wrapped you in his arms like he usually did when you did decide to spend the night.

But that was for another day. You broke apart after minutes to return to your project. By the end of the night you were screwing the doors back in and he was admiring everything. If you were being honest, he was completely helpless when it came to handiwork. Couldn’t hammer a nail, tighten a screw, sand some wood, or even recreate a decent Starry Starry Night, but that didn’t matter. Because his kitchen looked vibrant and beautiful and the art reminded you of all the ideas you could see swirling in his head. The fucking genius.

The reports had started to come in by then, but it wasn’t until the following morning that you realized how serious everything had gotten. Schools announced that day that they were closing. He called to tell you he was working from home. You got the call that evening that you would be too.

A week later and you had met with him once, in the park. It was a long trek for both of you, living on opposite sides of the city. But the brief kisses, kind words, and soft touches on the waist, thighs, arms, neck, jaw, nose, back, anything? Those were all worth it.

The following day you learned you couldn’t leave your neighborhood. You video-chatted with him in tears. If only you had let yourself follow the thoughts of moving in with him instead of stamping them out as soon as they started to take root in your head. If only you had let him spend the night one more time. So you wouldn’t be clinging to his fading smell on the t-shirt you stole from his closet.

It was like your whole world cut out when the strikes started. No internet. No cell service. No connection. The postal service was all but gone, and you had no way of connecting with him. Your only source of news was the newspaper, three times a week, delivered to your doorstep. And your neighbor who got it every day and would shout to you the important things.

You wished you had photos of him framed around the house. 

Then when you did, the sight of him staring at you from every corner of your apartment was enough to drive you mad with longing that you took them all down. 

When the government got the strikes under control, they started to introduce the plans for rolling out the internet services again. Things had become grim. You spent every night dreaming of him, but you were starting to forget his face. Did his nose curve that much?  Were the creases around his eyes that deep? Was his shabby beard that full? Did he have dimples, or were you just making that up?

You would stare at the photos on your phone, desperately trying to commit him to memory. Remember how he looked when the man in the photo came to life in three dimensions. How did he walk? How did he wave his hands?

By that time, life was different. You didn’t make art anymore. What was once your life had been shoved into your studio room, the light turned off, and the tubes of paint left to dry up. Your apartment didn’t smell like clay and charcoal and linseed oil anymore. You didn’t have it in you to keep painting. You went to the grocery store once every fourteen days, grabbing produce and frozen goods, bottles of alcohol and some cleaning supplies before handing over your newly minted ration card to receive the staples. Rice, pasta, beans, eggs, flour, sugar, a couple bags of dried fruit, a bottle of milk. It wasn’t so bad when you lived on your own, but you felt bad for the mothers and fathers in line behind you, knowing that their children might be too picky to even eat the food they were lucky to get.

The introduction of connectivity services was a slow process. Neighborhood by neighborhood across the country so as not to overwhelm the systems. There were new rules. It was only to be used for three things: education, work, and essential communication between legal family members.

Your finger hovered over the call button next to his name hundreds of times, but you could never press it out of fear that someone would be watching or listening. You knew that when you walked the streets they were. It was likely the same for your phone now too.

One day in a drunken fit of anger and yearning and the craze of love, you deleted all the photos on your phone, hoping that maybe without them you could forget how much you missed him.

You tried to forget him. But every night you dreamt of his slowly warping face. You wondered if he was doing the same.

Sometimes you would watch the DVDs you had and try to replace his image in your head with the actors. Sometimes it would work and weeks would go by with only dreams of the movies. But it would always lose its effectiveness. Usually around the time that you remembered that he was probably your soulmate and you didn’t get enough time.

In every single one of the possibilities of your lives together that you daydreamed about for hours every day, there was never enough time. But this reality was the worst. You were sure of that.

You had read every book in your house. Read every poem you could get your hands on, even the ones you had risked your life for in searching them on the internet, carefully saving pdfs and screenshots and printing them out on the dwindling paper in your apartment. Words didn’t do the same thing they used to anymore. They didn’t bring joy and excitement and escape. You stopped reading them.

You talked with your neighbor for the first time in a month. It seemed that almost everyone had stopped reading books. You wondered if people stopped doing other things too. 

The world before was starting to blur around the edges. You couldn’t remember if the path you liked to walk in the park had such an erratic course or if it was more subtle than you could remember. What did you like to do on the weekends? There was a place, a building, that you liked to go to. You couldn’t remember what it was called or what was inside, but you remember the feeling of standing there. The musty smell and the awe and the sensation that you were staring out at all of humanity. And you had no idea what the fuck it was. 

You weren’t sure how much of the world before you had forgotten. But you couldn’t shake him from your memory. You wished you could. 

When you weren’t working you were cooking or eating or sleeping. And when you weren’t doing that, it constituted the dangerous time where you didn’t have anything to do and nothing to interest you.

And every fucking thing you did, be that making pasta or lying on the floor and staring at the ceiling, made you think of him. You had loved him as you’d never loved anyone before. And you never told him. Did he even know that you loved him? Did he know that you knew he loved you back?

You would close your eyes and the only thing you were sure of in your mind’s image of him was that goddamn smile.

.

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[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Hi! I saw you had request open, so I was wondering if you could write Bucky reacting to overhearing someone tell his starving artist friend that their work doesn't mean anything? It can be in head canon style or an actual fic, whichever you prefer. Thank you!

The Artist and the Baker

Pairing: baker!Bucky x artist!Reader

Word Count: 2601 words

Warnings: This is fluff. Mutual pining, that sorta thing, guys.

A/N: I honestly really love this request especially with everything going on. I think it’s very common for people to take artists and creators for granted and I have certainly been on the receiving end of that treatment. 

I hope you like this. It was fun to make, but I’m sorry if it wasn’t quite what you were looking for.

-.-.-.-

Becca’s Needs for the Soul – a two story creation that was well-loved and adored by anyone who passed through the splatter painted door. Most people never understood the name, not even her brother, Bucky. Until Rebecca asked him to co-own and start working at the establishment. His little sister, always full of dramatics, had created something for everybody.

It was a coffee shop and a bakery.

A bookstore and a gallery.

They even had nights where people came in to perform music, standup, anything the heart desired. There were other days where artists from around would come and paint, sometimes provide lessons for kids, and other days there was simply nothing but quiet.

It took no time for Rebecca’s little hole in the wall to become one of the community’s favorites. Especially when her brother and his two friends came on. They had gotten it down to a science really.

Rebecca would come in, organizing the bookstore, managing everything behind the scenes, and setting up any special events that would come up. Whenever it was time to decorate the store for holidays? Or even something seasonal that came to mind? She spent even more time out with the customers instead of behind the scenes.

And when she brought in her brother and two hunks to keep people company? It was a genius plan on her part. Especially when female customers spiked. But she would never admit that maybe that had been a smidgen of the plan all along. No, her real reasoning was for the boys. They needed something simple after returning from their second and final tour.

So she stuck two of them behind the counter. Her older brother often spent most days tucked back in the kitchen creating God knows what, but it always smelled wonderful. Any time he came out of his little hole, it was usually to help man the register while Sam slacked because he was flirting with too many customers.

But that was to be expected when Sam was the coffee guy. He was always creating new Holiday specials, deciding the best coffee beans for purchase, and trying something different. No one ever knew what it would be, but normally the smell of coffee and something filled the store.

And Steve? Well, he was one of the store’s more popular artists. He didn’t “officially” work for them, but he spent enough time there where people started nicknaming him the “curator”. He was the one who usually brought in new artists.

That was how Y/N had become part of their little group.

She was a photographer, but Bucky would always say it was more than that. For those who hired her, she found a way to make sure they were comfortable in front of the camera. Y/N always said she understood being nervous because of her own curvy figure, but Bucky just saw how she glowed. And her work that she put here? It wasn’t just portraits or landscapes. She had a way of combining paint and photos to create a way of reminding the world that imagination and reality were always linked. While Sam and Steve teased her for focusing on events to pay the bills, Bucky was the one who asked about which works she had planned.

With a smile and paint in her hair or staining her nails, she would tell him. Her eyes would sparkle with excitement that could only come from being an artist. She was so animated with her words, hands flying about and often looking like she belonged in some sort of cartoon. Her cheeks would always flush when she would realize how fast she was talking or how much louder she spoke.

But he never minded.

He liked having a friend who got so excited about her work. It was a different sort of excitement than Steve. The blonde was always smiling and had that same spark, but he was infinitely calmer compared to Y/N. Their artwork matched their personalities. Steve’s were extravagant and beautiful pencil sketches of people – raw and honest and revealing something that no one else could see but him. Y/N’s were stunning and extraordinary paint and photos – raw in a way that reminded the world to see what they were missing.

Their creations often balanced the walls of Rebecca’s shop. At least they did during the times Steve’s work wasn’t flying off the walls. It was that popularity that had him drawing at the shop. He often invited Y/N, telling her that people not only wanted to buy their work, but they wanted to watch their creativity.

Still, her best work came from the privacy of her own home.

Every week she brought in something new. Something special.

And today was no different.

The rules for artists selling their work were simple. They decided the prices. They worked the transactions. The shop itself provided a place to see the work, but took no percentage. They didn’t interfere.

These were unspoken rules that everyone managed to follow because…well, it made sense.

Until this guy – arrogant and irritating and looking to buy art. Sam had nicknamed him “Sweater vest.”

He had come in like any other day, ordering some tea before complaining that it was “too hot” and “too watered down”. It made Sam’s blood boil not because it was a complaint, but because it was the same order and same complaint every time. And every time, it was those complaints that kept him from tipping anything.

Even if he finished his tea and stuck around for a couple hours every damn time, admiring the artwork, fingering through books, but never buying anything other than his “not good enough” tea.

Sam’s too-big smile was still in place as he watched Sweater vest take a seat next to Y/N’s newest work. Both men glanced at the painting, but for entirely different reasons. Sam did because he couldn’t wait for Bucky to see it. Sweater vest did because today was going to be his first official purchase. And Sam hated that the artwork on the wall had to go to -

“Sweater vest is back.” Sam spat as the kitchen door closed behind him.

Bucky looked up, setting down the dozen cookies that had just come out of the oven. He knew exactly which customer Sam was griping about, always finding it entertaining that someone had managed to get under his skin. “And?”

“And he’s buying Y/N’s new painting,” Sam harrumphed, leaning against the nearest counter as Bucky started decorating a cake.

Bucky paused when he heard that, cursing when he messed up the piping. Setting the instrument aside, he carefully wiped away his mistake and glanced at Sam. Oh, he wanted to wipe that smug smirk off his face. “You’re point?”

“Nothing. I’m just surprised you haven’t gone and looked at it yet.”

“I’ve been a little busy,” Bucky said, gesturing to the creations that covered the counters.

Sam bit his tongue, barely able to hide his laugh. So that’s why there was so much flour on Bucky’s cheeks and in his hair. “Trade ya.”

“Your hands are too shaky. You’d screw these up.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Fine, whatever, but – “

Sam’s sentence died on his lips when he heard shouting coming from the front. Bucky glanced up, ears recognizing Y/N’s voice. The two men shared a look, muttering, “Sweater vest,” before rushing out of the kitchen.

Y/N’s new painting was off the wall and at her feet, tucked behind her as if she was a mama bear protecting her cub. They’d never seen Y/N angry before. Passionate, sure, but never angry. Anger was something she never seemed to reach.

Until today.

“The painting is decent, but it doesn’t mean anything. And I’m not paying three hundred bucks for something that has no meaning.”

“Then why the fuck did you waste my time asking about it?”

“Because I thought you would come to your senses and accept a more reasonable offer.”

“And what do you think would be a reasonable offer?”

“Fifty sounds more than reasonable. And I would be doing you a favor with my connections.”

“Fifty bucks and exposure?”

Bucky and Sam moved fast, knowing that tone of venom and irritation. Sam grabbed the painting, moving it out of the way as Y/N launched herself at Sweater vest, ready to tear him a new one. Bucky wrapped his arm around her waist, putting himself between her and the idiot. “Y/N, breathe…”

“Let me tell you this,” Y/N snapped at Sweater vest, pointing at him around Bucky’s arm. “I would rather never sell another piece of work than listen to your drivel for another moment!”

Sam placed a hand on her arm, tugging her back. “Y/N, let’s go to the kitchen,” he told her, talking to her as if she was a small child that needed to be calmed. He steered her behind the counter as he assured her, “Bucky just finished making some cookies. I’m sure we can steal a couple while he takes out the trash.” Sam glanced over his shoulder, giving Bucky a thumbs up of encouragement.

While Y/N might be completely oblivious to Bucky’s feelings for her, Sam was far from it. And he was completely sure that Bucky would have no problem fixing this situation. He just wished he had a camera to record everything.

Maybe he could borrow the security footage from Rebecca’s cameras.

When the kitchen door closed again, Bucky turned to Sweater vest. He straightened, coming to his full height and towering over the man. It seemed his large build was a firm reminder that Rebecca had ex-military working here because Sweater vest calmed rather quickly.

“I’m so sorry for disturbing the establishment. Artists tend to be a little soft-hearted when it comes to critiques.”

“Not if the critique is asked for,” Bucky told him, taking a step forward as Sweater vest took a step back. Though everyone had avoided looking at Y/N’s and Sweater vest’s argument, all eyes were curiously watching the baker that was often far more quiet than he was now. “Y/N is one of our favorite artists. Her work and company are always welcome in our establishment.”

“O – Our? I thought this shop was owned by a woman…a Ms. Rebecca Barnes.”

“It’s co-owned,” Bucky assured him, offering his best customer service smile.

“By…?”

“Her brother.” He held out his hand. “James Barnes.”

Sweater vest swallowed thickly, throat bobbing nervously as he took Bucky’s hand. The strength in Bucky’s handshake was enough to make him wince, barely able to withhold a cry of pain. Bucky’s other hand, a heavy and metal prosthetic, squeezed his shoulder and earned a cringe.

“While Becca’s Needs for the Soul is open to anyone, we take great pride in reminding our artists that this is their community first and foremost. So you? Are banned.”

Another step and Sweater vest was stumbling through the front door, his shoulder and hand released. “I – “

“Have a nice day.”

The door clanged shut with a ring from the bell. Bucky watched Sweater vest recover, smoothing himself out and making himself presentable once again before he turned and walked away. Bucky shook his head, turning back to the rest of the shop. They all stared at him as if he had grown a second head, never having seen Bucky so outspoken or protective before.

“Show’s over.” Everyone looked back at Sam who was standing in the kitchen doorway. It seemed that was all that was needed for everyone to go back to what they were doing. Sam grinned, asking, “So I could’ve had Sweater vest banned weeks ago if I just…”

“Shut up.” Bucky walked back to Y/N’s painting, picking it up and finally looking at it for the first time. He was…shocked.

It was a full painting – Y/N’s first.

The person was solid black, a shadow with only their eyes visible to the viewer. What he guessed was blue watercolor filled the subject’s irises. Around the person’s outline, breaking through its barrier – endless skies, constellations, galaxies – all messy and brilliant and bold. The paint was thicker, heavier there. He could make out every thick stroke of the person’s figure, of the world around it. Deeper blues, yellows, purples, greens – colors no one would expect to see from a night sky…were there. It was fathomless, endless, and the longer he looked, the more he found something new. She wasn’t connecting the mind, but the eyes, the soul, to the rest of the world.

And that idiot had the balls to say there was no meaning to this?

“I wonder who her inspiration was,” Sam teased, leaning against the counter as Bucky looked over his shoulder.

Bucky stayed silent, hanging the painting back where it belonged. Instead of commenting or over thinking it, he went back into the kitchen. There, sitting on the counter, was Y/N with a cup of coffee and a couple cookies. An apologetic smile curled her lips as she set the plate and mug down.

“Thank you for…that,” she finished lamely, gesturing to the door.

Bucky shrugged. “It’s no problem. You’re my friend.”

Y/N smiled hearing that. She had always wondered if Bucky looked at her as a friend and hearing that he did, it made her heart flutter in a weird sort of way. “Do you…need me to go?”

He shook his head, already returning to the cake he was decorating. The sooner he finished it, the sooner he could put it out to sell. He stood close to her; his eyes focused intently on his creation as Y/N watched him. She loved seeing him in his element. Though he would never admit it, his own creations were art. He poured so much of himself and his love in each dessert.

And it was adorable. But friends didn’t say things like that, so Y/N stayed silent. She was content with this, happy.

Silence fell so easily between them. There was a level of comfort in this moment that couldn’t be replicated by her friendships with Sam or Steve or Rebecca. It was Bucky being Bucky and Y/N being Y/N. Exactly what the other needed.

And neither had any sort of idea that Sam and Steve were watching them through the kitchen door.

Sam looked over at Steve, returning to the register as Steve went to his proper side of the counter. “Think either of them will ever admit it?”

Steve glanced at the glass case that held all of Bucky’s sweets. The first one was a customer-favorite at the shop. A creation that was made of fresh fruit and sweets – something that Bucky had spent all night making the day after he met Y/N. His eyes then shifted to Y/N’s painting, knowing very well who inspired what he believed to be her best creation. Shrugging, he leaned on the counter. “Out loud? Probably not. But there’s always a weird sort of meaning that comes from an artist’s work. They’ll figure it out eventually.”

Sam glanced back at the kitchen when he heard Bucky laugh. No doubt Y/N had done something. “Well, I hope they hurry it up. It’s getting to be a damn romantic comedy around here. And not one of the good ones.”

Steve laughed. Though he’d never admit it out loud, there was a bit of truth to Sam’s words. There always was.

[petuniatom]

No. 1 Party Anthem [2] | College!Tom AU

Pairing: College!DJ!Bartender/Barista!Tom Holland x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: You’re coming up on your last year of college, grappling with finally getting ready for the actual “adult” world and being in two majors you’re not crazily passionate about. When you’re in the middle of a stressful essay at your favorite local coffee shop/upstairs bar, Dommo’s, you meet Tom Holland, a barista and bartender.

You slowly get to know each other over sangria, and soon enough manage to slip your way into his world where the days don’t usually end until about 5 a.m., music is everything, and uncertainty is your best friend.

A story about late night laments, sangria, and a whole lot of growing up.

SERIES MASTERLIST | Ch. 1

Word count: 5.8K

A/N: Hello! Long time no post! Here’s the long awaited update. It’s a little bit more exposition here, but part three is when it starts getting a little bit more spicy. Primarily, we’re focusing on watching the reader developing more of her other friendships here. But stay tuned for pt. 3 which will be coming very soon!

“I don’t see why we couldn’t just go to Dommo’s,” you whined.

You’d been waiting nearly an hour in line outside of Over & Easy with Tony and Jacob. The day before, you made them promise to get mimosas with you Saturday morning, following their late-night adventures and your Friday night essay-writing. While Over & Easy was one of the best spots in town for brunch food, its popularity meant usually there was a battle for those wanting to get inside.

Jacob and Tony, rather than accepting your quiet suggestion to head over to Dommo’s, were insistent that Over & Easy was the best idea for today. Though it was bound to be busy, Tony was craving their french toast and Jacob said their mimosas were better deals anyway. (After all, Saturdays usually meant pitchers for $5, so he wasn’t wrong.)

“You just went there yesterday!” Tony said. “And we rarely come to Over & Easy.”

“C’mon, it’s good to do something different every once and a while,” Jacob said, nudging you.

“Well, it’s just for a place that’s named Over & Easy it just seems to be the exact opposite,” you huffed.

Jacob snickered, and Tony rolled his eyes at your statement.

“What’s going on with you? Why do you want to go to Dommo’s so badly?” Tony asked.

“My car is there,” you said. Tony and Jacob shot each other a look. You knew the jig was up; these boys could read you almost too well. “All right, I met someone there yesterday. He was really nice. And I wanted to see him again because I forgot to get his number.”

Tony and Jacob let out a long, “Ooooh,” at your response.

“Well, I hear all the Dommo’s bartenders and baristas are kind of fuck boys, Y/N, so it might be well-worth your time to just skidaddle anyway,” Tony said. “But I mean, if you want to meet him, just pop-in for more coffee or something when you go get your car.”

You bit your lip. “I know, but he just didn’t seem like the usual type for Dommo’s. He actually seemed nice, like he wanted to talk to me. He listened to me complain about my major for like two hours, and gave me free sangria. You don’t just give anyone free sangria.”

“We do every week,” Jacob replied, lifting his arms up. “Whine and Wine, c’mon.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Yes, but we’re close friends. This guy was a stranger.”

“Doesn’t our roommate work at Dommo’s?” Tony asked, slightly scrunching his face up.

Jacob shook his head. “No, you idiot. He works at Wilson’s.”

“I swore he told me that once,” Tony muttered, shaking his head.

At that moment, your group’s name was called out, and you were ushered to a table in the back that seated four. You all ordered a round of mimosas, but you were all going to stick to just that — only one. Tony and Jacob were admittedly a little bit hungover still from last night, and while you were fine, you thought it’d be good to still hold off after all the sangria you drank the night before.

You chatted with both Jacob and Tony about how classes were going so far. Tony was going to have a stressful upcoming week, considering he had an exam coming up in one of his chemistry classes. Jacob, however, was going to be able to take it easy this week. He was a film and acting student, and he only had to worry about a group project he was going to be tackling soon. For the most part though, he was more thrilled than anything when it came to its progress so far, discussing how he met this new girl named Zendaya he wanted to integrate into the friend group.

“She’s a great actress and one of the most laid-back girls I’ve ever met in my life,” Jacob said.

“What is she studying?” you asked, lifting your eyebrows up.

“Women studies and music theory, but she’s heavily involved in the theater scene too.”

“You have to invite her for whine and wine. We need someone new in the mix,” Tony insisted. He then turned to you. “Are you inviting anyone new?”

“Maybe Brynn,” you mused, shrugging.

Jacob and Tony both groaned.

They hadn’t completely warmed up to your friend after an ill-fated incident at a previous party where she, in a completely drunken haze, decided to start jumping on Tony’s already fragile bed, and ended up breaking it. They hadn’t seen her since, slightly agitating the relationship between them and her. In her defense, she did help Tony pay for a new headboard and whatnot. So she wasn’t completely disgraced — just not a favorite to have around.

“You know what that means, time to lock all the bedrooms,” Tony huffed.

You giggled at your friends response, shaking your head. “I don’t think she’ll do something like that again. Besides, it’ll be good to have her around again. You guys can actually get to know her this time around. She’s a good person to complain with.”

“Why couldn’t you just get the bartender’s number and invite him instead?” Tony griped. You knew he was (mostly) kidding, but you were a little bit sad when you realized how fun it would be to invite Tom to Jacob and Tony’s parties on Wednesday nights. You could sit in the corner and chat, sipping on more wine and just get to know each other.

“More mimosas?” your waitress asked, approaching your table.

“I think we’re going to stick to water now,” Jacob replied, thanking her.

After a surplus of french toast and laughing, you were soon walking along the street toward Dommo’s to pick up your car.

Chatter consumed the world around you and you weaved in between all the people who were heading toward their own hangover brunch. You couldn’t help smiling, thinking of how you loved your college town for all its quirks.

As you headed in front of Dommo’s, you immediately spotted your car in one of the two hour free-lots, groaning when you realized you’d gotten a parking ticket for exceeding on your allotted time. It was a $35 ticket — not the worst you’d ever gotten downtown, but still not great.

Figuring you had nothing to lose still, you popped your head inside, scanning the room for Tom.

You sighed when you realized he wasn’t inside, but told yourself that you could maybe make a run by another time. He still owed you that latté that he talked to you about last night anyway. Either way, you headed back to your car, tucking the parking ticket in your glove box.

***

Over the course of the weekend, you quickly got over Tom. You fixated on your homework that was due Monday and Tuesday, burned some candles, and caught up on your favorite television shows. He turned from your brief confidanté into a passing memory.

Soon enough, you were back in your poli-sci class, plopped next to Brynn on the left side of the classroom as your professor lectured. You were nervous about today. He’d sent out an email before class that said he would be handing back papers today — a paper you rushed to complete and barely glanced over. You knew your grade was bound to be fucked by the time you got yours.

While your thoughts spiralized, your classmates were consumed in a debate over the topic of the paper. You heard Brynn contribute to the discussion and you started to doodle on your notebook, in hopes of temporarily escaping your thought process.

You then felt Brynn nudge you, a typical cue for when she needed you to back her up on something. You figured it was the typical conservative boys in the corner giving her trouble, and lifted your head up.

“What’s going on?” you whispered in her ear. “I’ve been tuned out.”

She snickered. “Nothing really, just Brad and Chad here are saying that voter fraud is the reason Hillary Clinton won the popular vote, and it’s an epidemic across the country. No racist history behind voter laws whatsoever.”

You rolled your eyes. Of course, your poli-sci discussion always turned into this at one point. You typically enjoyed the debates a little bit more, but since it was still within the first month, you were in the less compelling element of class. You were less enthusiastic about the fact that you were currently stuck in this class with two of your least favorite fellow political science majors — Carter Higgins and Quentin Carver. They’d followed you through the political science classes since your freshman year, but most of the time, you were fortunate enough to only have one of them. This semester, you got both of them.

You were grateful when your professor decided to cut off the discussion early to hand back papers. You slumped back in your seat, somewhat eager to see your grade and yet not prospective about how it was bound to look.

Soon enough, your professor called out your name. Your fingers felt jittery as you walked up to the front, and grabbed the folded paper from his hand, and returned to your seat.

You unfolded the packet of paper carefully. You were surprised when you saw in red pen on the front a giant “A” and a note from him that said, “Excellent job.”

A wave of relief washed over you. You slumped back into your chair, this time in pure disbelief.

“What did you get?” Brynn asked, leaning over to spot it. “Holy shit, first paper and you already aced it. He’s a tough grader too. Congrats.”

You’d heard of this particular professor’s reputation before throughout others who took his class, so you were familiar with some of the horror stories when it came to grading. You knew it wasn’t just you who helped coordinate all of this, as your mind wandered back to your Friday night in Dommo’s and the bartender who was kind enough to look over your paper.

You focused back on Brynn. “Thanks! How did you do?”

She frowned, “B+, but still good. Better than I expected, that’s for sure.”

You packed up your things into your backpack, waiting patiently for everyone to be handed back their papers. Once everyone had, he gave a short overview of what to do on future papers, should anyone need help and reiterated his office hours incase anyone wanted to chat about their grade. Shortly after, everyone was dismissed, and you slung your backpack back over your shoulder. There was a bounce in your step as you approached the door to the classroom, but right as you were getting ready to leave, your professor called your name again.

You turned around, facing him. “Yes, Professor McKinley?”

“I was really impressed with your paper, Y/N. It was one of the best I’ve seen right off the bat in this class. You have a fairly impressive future ahead of you,” he said.

You were flattered by the statement. Sure, you excelled in all of your political science courses, and you were glad you were already doing well in this class in particular. Yet, the thought of the future still somewhat terrified you. You wanted to tell this professor so badly that you had no idea how you were going to handle things following this school year, and the last thing you thought the future would be for you was “impressive.”

“I’m currently looking for an undergraduate student to be a research assistant and join my team,” he continued. “I think you would be perfect for the job if you’re interested. I need someone that I know can analyze, write, and work well with others. Currently, I just have one person, Carter Higgins actually, who works with me, but I always like to have another person around while campaign season unfolds.”

You gulped. You weren’t sure if you wanted to work alongside Carter; you hated him. Yet, this was a tremendous opportunity. Professor McKinley was one of the most well-connected professors politically. If you wanted a job at a non-profit or in a politician’s office, he almost always had a way in. If you joined and impressed him, you could ride on his coattails.

“What exactly would I be responsible for?”

“Just doing research, maybe picking up some books from the library. We’d go to different parties of political candidates as well. You might accompany me to a few panels as the election approaches, all sorts of things. It’s a great opportunity to network and learn more about political research.”

You bit your lip. Admittedly, you didn’t like your current job so much. It’d be nice to do something during the school year that focused on what you were passionate about.

“I’d love to do it,” you said.

He beamed. “Great, I’ll send you a link tonight to apply. I’m looking forward to working with you, Y/N.”

You gave him a polite thank you, before exiting the room. Brynn was outside, leaning against a wall and waiting for you. You smiled when you saw her.

“What was that all about?” she asked, synchronizing with your step as you both exited the building.

“Professor McKinley just asked me to work for him and do something political research,” you said, not meaning to brag, but well, it did sound that way.

You hated whenever you talked to Brynn about things like this. While she was an amazing friend, she was prone to jealousy and being competitive. A lot of the times, that manifested in your friendship with one another.

You could tell she was a little bit envious about the offer you received, and you felt a little bit guilty. Soon enough, a smile was on her face. You weren’t sure how genuine it was.

“That’s good. You’re going to get a lot of good networking out of that,” she said. “Congratulations!”

And yet, it felt forced. You weren’t sure just why you felt so guilty. Normally, if something like this happened, you would wave off the person who was exhibiting this kind of jealousy. But it was Brynn, and Brynn was one of the most passionate people you’d ever met. She genuinely cared about political science; it was her life ambition. The opportunity would have meant so much more than a resume line and connections to her.

“Thanks,” you replied. “But here’s the downside, I have to work with Carter Higgins.”

She groaned and you felt a little bit better in knowing you could now joke with her about the offer.

“I fucking hate that kid. He thinks he’s so important just because he’s a man and knows how to walk on two legs,” Brynn muttered. “Timmy Turner lookin-ass.”

You giggled at your friend’s string of insults. None of them were inaccurate.

“Speaking of Carter, why were you so spacey today? I needed your back-up.”

You let out a long sigh, uneasy how to best navigate the conversation. You didn’t want to agitate the whole friendship you had between you and Brynn, since you’d known she spent all week working on the paper. You knew she was going to judge you just a little bit for your lack of promptness with the paper, particularly since you’d gotten the special offer from Professor McKinley.

So you settled for, “Oh, I’ve just been anxious all day.”

“Why?”

You hadn’t thought that far along yet.

“Just a number of different things,” you said slowly. You decided your best bet was to slowly spin off the truth. “And like, I don’t know, I was nervous about my grade on the paper because I didn’t think it was my best work, and like, this one is going to sound a little bit lackluster, but I met this cute boy this weekend. We flirted for a few hours and I really liked him, but I forgot to get his number.”

It was an exaggeration to an extent, but for the most part, there was no lie.

“Oh that always sucks. I’ve done something like that before,” she replied, frowning slightly. “But hey, maybe you’ll bump into him again sometime soon. And like, I feel you on the anxiety in general, because I get that all the time.”

You felt yourself simmer down after her response. There were so many reasons you liked Brynn, but primarily because she never invalidated you when you talked about the things that were stressing you out. Even if they were just small things like forgetting to get a boy’s number at a bar.

“So, tell me about the boy,” she nudged you on.

You smiled and recounted how you met Tom to her, and how you opened yourself up to him so immediately it surprised you. You told her how sweet he was, how he waited to ensure you were comfortable with him giving you a ride home and in making sure you got home safely to begin with.

“Wow, you’re smitten by someone you’d only met for maybe two hours,” Brynn remarked.

You laughed. “I know, highly unlikely for me right?” You shook your head, your eyes slightly sparkling. “Some people are just magnetic, though, you know? And I think he’s one of those rare types.”

Brynn donned a smile at your words. “I honestly never thought I’d see the day where you were so flustered over another person. Who knew Dommo’s would put something like this together, huh?”

Brynn was reasonably surprised. In all the years that she’d known you, you’d never really pursued a relationship with another person. Often when someone was interested, you’d go on a date, but it almost always turned into nothing besides maybe a brief fling. This was the first time she saw you genuinely entranced by another person since you’d both been at college.

It was just that you were a total stickler about dating people you felt like were just as motivated as you were. Or at least, people who could keep up with you in terms of interests and banter. Other potential significant others you’d met over the years were great, but you always felt like you were never fully understood by them.

There was something different about this thing with Tom. Finding common ground wasn’t an issue. He got you.

“Hopefully it stays a thing. I haven’t seen him since, remember?” you continued. “And I don’t know how to see him again considering I don’t exactly have his phone number or anything like that?”

“Well, hopefully we’ll find him somehow. Worse come to worse, just run to the studio on Friday and see if he’s around. Or go to Dommo’s again somehow. If he works there as much as he says he does, I’m sure you’ll bump into him eventually.”

***

It was Wednesday night, which only meant one thing for your friend group — Whine and Wine time. You pulled the Yellowtail you’d been saving in your cabinet out, placed it in a bag, and walked over to Jacob and Tony’s apartment.

When you first moved out of the dorms, you knew you wanted to live by yourself. Jacob and Tony desperately wanted you to move into their apartment, but you had a feeling that if you shared a home with them, you wouldn’t be able to handle their living habits. Even so, the three of you agreed to live in the same apartment complex anyway — that way if you ever wanted to hang out or get drunk at the others’ apartment, it wouldn’t be a far distance.

You’d arrived at their front door in less than five minutes. Jacob’s eyes brightened considerably when he opened the door and saw you, and you gave him a tight hug. You were the second person there; the first being Laura, who was an expert at making sangria and was helping them out.

Granted, the general rule in your friend group was to typically arrive 30 minutes after the planned time. So by that standard, you were still about 15 minutes early.

“You’re not going to believe who’s coming today,” Jacob said as soon as you walked into the apartment.

You raised an eyebrow, setting the yellowtail you brought on the counter. “Who?”

“Our roommate,” Tony said from the couch. He was sprawled across it, already half a wine glass into the night. “Can you believe it? I invited him, not really thinking he’d say yes, and he texted back that he’d love to come!”

“He’s gonna be here around 8 o’clock,” Jacob said, nodding his head.

You grinned. “Way to include him in the friend group finally, guys!”

“You’re awfully excited, Y/N,” Laura remarked from the kitchen.

“Okay, they’ve been telling me about this guy for a while now, and he’s so mysterious like- I’m just curious about him. Where does he go? What does he do? Is he cute?”

“She’s going to scare him off within the first five minutes of being here,” Tony said.

You rolled your eyes. “Or maybe he’ll be happy that someone is finally acting interested in his life around here. You guys just ignore him!”

Jacob raised his hand. “In my defense, I try talking to him. Tony barely acknowledges him in the kitchen.”

“I don’t,” Tony admitted. “It’s just weird, like what do we talk about?”

“Wait, so in the morning if you’re like in the kitchen at the same time you guys just stand there in silence?” Laura asked.

You nodded your head. “Tony does at least.”

Laura shot him a look. “You don’t at least say hi or anything?” Tony shrugged again, and Laura rolled her eyes, slightly giggling. “No wonder he doesn’t really come home!”

“I’m trying now!” Tony attested, lifting up his glass of wine for another sip.

“He’s redeeming himself,” you joked. “Speaking of redemption, you know my good friend Brynn, she’s coming tonight. And I think we should give her a chance again, okay?”

Both Tony and Jacob groaned again.

“I’m already at max capacity tonight, Y/N! She broke my bed!” Tony protested.

Laura giggled from the kitchen and you rolled your eyes. “Guys, c’mon. She’s so much fun. Might be a little bit judgey from time to time but like a good friend.”

Jacob shrugged. “Listen, I’m usually just joking about all of this. I don’t actually have a problem with her. If you say she’s good, I believe you.”

Tony was pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m locking my bedroom door.”

You stuck out your tongue at him, before turning to Jacob and asking, “And what about your friend?”

Jacob frowned. “She’s not coming tonight. She couldn’t make it.”

Tony sat up straight. “What?!”

Jacob shrugged again. “She said she was busy! She seemed disappointed, so maybe some other night.”

Tony let out a long sigh. “I hope she comes eventually. We need more friends around here,” he said.

Laura then started pouring herself a glass of sangria from the pitcher. She offered some to you, which you naturally accepted.

It was good, but not even close to the quality of sangria Tom made you at Dommo’s. But even so, you were content with it.

“Damn, she’s missing out on some great sangria,” you complimented, taking another sip.

Slowly, more of your friends started piling into the apartment. Abraham, Sally, and some people you didn’t know well started walking in right around 7:30 p.m., exactly when you expected more of the crowd to show up. You nudged Tony over and sat on the edge of the couch. Laura sat on the other side of Tony, while Jacob primarily played host by greeting everyone who came in.

Brynn came next, after the large wave of people. She plopped on the ground in front of you, and you could see Tony eyeing her. You knew he was genuinely wary around her, and you couldn’t help giggling slightly at their dynamic.

Brynn started making conversation with Tony, and surprisingly, he was receptive to it. You were only half-tuned into their discussion, as you sipped more of your sangria and enjoyed being slightly antisocial for a long moment.

“So when are we going to start complaining or start group games?” one of Jacob and Tony’s friend that you hadn’t met yet asked.

That was another tradition of whine and wine — when you weren’t crying over your week, you were usually sitting together in a circle playing Cards Against Humanity or more likely, King’s Cup.

“Soon as my roommate gets here,” Jacob said. “We’re waiting on him and a friend to officially get started.”

You all gathered around in different sections across the room to begin catching up. You mostly pursued conversation with Laura, talking about her classes and what life had been like as an accounting major.

Every now and then, you glanced over at Tony and Brynn, who were still having somewhat of a decent conversation. Tony seemed less uneasy about opening up to Brynn now, as his animosity from Brynn breaking his bed was now gone. Laura nudged you about it, placing bets that by the end of the night they would hook-up.

You wandered over to Jacob, who was pouring some more wine for himself over by the kitchen.

“They’re getting along well now, huh?” you whispered, gesturing over to Brynn and Tony.

Jacob snickered. “You know how Tony is. You think the two of them will be good for each other?”

You cocked your head. “I think they have the potential to be. Either they’re going to mortal enemies or soulmates.” Jacob laughed.

But then, the door swung open. You knew who it was going to be even before Jacob leaned over to say it. It was the mysterious third roommate — the one that you’d heard so much information about, but had never met. You felt your heart pick up its pace, ready to make your judgements as soon as the door came to a close.

Two heads poked their way in the apartment. The first was a tall, blond man, with broad shoulders and a serious expression. As you weaved your way through your own memory, you realized you didn’t recognize the face. And it didn’t seem to fit the descriptor Jacob and Tony t0ld you about since they’d moved into this apartment. They told you their third roommate was on the shorter side, and this guy seemed to be fairly average in height, if not higher than average, all together.

But, even more surprising was when you were able to see the second head that stuck its head through the crack of the door. You knew the face; it’d been a face you’d been looking for almost extensively over the course of the past few days. And now, there he was — Tom himself. He was standing right in front of you, with an inquisitive and apprehensive expression across his face as his eyes surveyed over the room. With the ways his eyes moved with ease, like he knew the apartment itself, you knew at once he was the mysterious third roommate Jacob and Tony had been talking about so much.

You laughed to yourself about the irony of it all. You’d been looking for him for so long it felt like, and now, he was right under your nose after all this time.

His eyes brightened once they connected with yours.

“Oh, Y/N, my roommate is here,” Jacob said, nudging you. “Tom! There’s someone I want you to meet!”

He weaved his way over to you and Jacob in the kitchen, his blond friend following closely behind.

“Tom, this is Y/N,” Jacob said, gesturing toward you. “She’s a friend of mine and Tony.”

Tom shoved his hands in his pockets. “Oh, Y/N and I actually know each other. We met Dommo’s this weekend.” He gave you a quick head nod, and you smiled.

Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Oh, really?” He shot a look over at you. You could tell by his reaction that it was all clicking in his head — the way you were eying Tom, the conversation you’d had at Over & Easy, the fact that Tom said you’d already met, and more.

“Yeah, Tom was really helpful to me when I was complaining over that paper I had to write for pols. He even proofread it for me,” you replied.

Jacob nodded his head, a small smirk tugging on his lips. It was all the confirmation he needed. You tried not to blush.

“This is my mate, Harrison by the way,” Tom said, gesturing over to the tall blond boy standing next to him. He stayed relatively quiet throughout the introduction, but now he gave you and Jacob a quick greeting. He was a fellow Brit, you learned quickly. “Harrison, this is Y/N and then Jacob, who is my flatmate. The other one is somewhere around here.”

Jacob and you both gave a quick wave.

“Welcome to your first whine and wine,” Jacob said. “There’s sangria over in the corner, and all the wine is communal usually, so feel free to drink whatever. No one really gives a shit here, we all just try to get drunk and complain.”

Harrison and Tom both grinned.

“Now that’s what I’m down for, mate,” Harrison said, and all of you laughed.

Tom and Harrison excused themselves from the conversation to get a drink. Jacob shot you a look again.

“So that bartender you’ve been obsessed with is my roommate?” he asks.

“It appears so,” you replied, cocking your head. “And I’m not obsessed with him. Just… curious.”

Jacob chuckled, shaking his head. “Oh, whatever. I know you.”

You gave a pout. “I’ve only met him once.”

Jacob shrugged. “Just saying, for meeting only once, he obviously left an impression on you.”

And in truth, Jacob was absolutely right. You were enamoured by Tom in a way you couldn’t quite explain. There was just something about him that you were still trying to decipher.

You weren’t sure if you’d met anyone like him before.

Tom wandered back over to you and Jacob, Harrison closely in tow. He lifted up his glass of sangria, in somewhat of a cheering motion.

“Sangria isn’t so bad, huh?” you asked him, as he took a sip out of the glass.

Tom shook his head, a small smile curling up on his lips. “Do you like it better than mine?”

You pursed your lips. “Yours is definitely the best I’ve had.”

You could tell Jacob and Harrison were surprised by how easily the two of you got into conversation, but they weren’t quite fully sure on the context behind the topic at hand.

“At the bar I work at, I make sangria a lot of the time,” Tom explained. “I’m always trying out new recipes. Y/N was one of the few to try a new one I made the other day.”

“It was really good,” you replied, nodding your head.

“Well, you’ll have to bring it over to Whine and Wine sometime. I think we need more of that around here, if anything. The more alcohol, the better,” Jacob said. He was met by the chuckles of both Tom and Harrison. “But, we’re going to start a game soon if you guys want to jump in. We usually play Cards Against Humanity, or like King’s Cup which is a fun drinking game.”

Tom shook his head. “I think I’ll hold off for now.”

“I’ll jump in,” Harrison offered.

Jacob shot you a meaningful look.

“I’ll hang back,” you said swiftly. “I’ll kick in though after a few rounds, okay?”

Jacob seemed a bit disappointed by your answer, and you knew it had a partial role in the fact that earlier in the week, you’d turned down hanging out with Jacob and Tony at all of those parties. But he could handle himself. This was the first time you were seeing Tom in a while, and you wanted to get to know him better.

Jacob and Harrison both headed over to the living room, where the whole crowd of attendees were hanging out. You tried to stop your hands from fidgeting when you realized you were alone with Tom now.

“I got a job because of your excellent proofreading skills,” you said, a bit abruptly. “Thank you for that.”

Tom’s eyebrows raised at your statement, and a small grin curled up on his lips. “Really? Where?”

You explained how it was a research assistant job, but the professor it was attached to had multiple connections that were bound to help your own prospective career. You mentioned how you got one of the best grades in the class compared to the other students on the paper, and how he’d noticed it.

Tom nodded his head and his eyes stayed fixated on your face as he talked. It was a bit strange, being able to talk to someone with them being so intent in paying attention in what you had to say. It was so typical in college for all the people you were usually around to maybe check their phone every now and then, or at some point, their eyes would slightly glaze over as you spoke. But that wasn’t the case with Tom. Not at all.

He was attentive and engaged. His coffee eyes were soft, but with kindness, rather than with a lack of interest.

“Congratulations,” Tom said finally, when you were done explaining the premise of your new job. “It sounds like you’re a perfect fit for it.”

“Yeah, m’pretty stoked about it,” you replied, shrugging slightly. “I know I gave you all that talk about how it’s not necessarily my passion, but like I actually think this could be good.”

Tom nodded his head. “At least gives you the hope that you’re going somewhere after college. Which means you’re probably doing better than the rest of us.”

You grinned. “Tom, it seems like you have it pretty together.” He snorted, but you continued. “I mean seriously, you host a good radio show, and from the small interaction we’ve had together, you seem pretty emotionally in-tune. Which is more than you could say about most of the men that I’ve met.”

He snickered. “Well, you haven’t gotten to know me super well yet, so maybe hold off on making a lot of judgements yet. I don’t know if emotionally in-tune is necessarily the best way to describe me.”

You bit your lip, and said softly, “I think I’d like to get to know you better though.” Tom raised an eyebrow. “I just think we could be good friends is all. And you live with two of my best friends, as I’ve learned after today. So, might as well, right?”

You’d backed off a little bit, thinking maybe your initial move was a bit too forward. But thankfully, Tom followed along with it.

“Yeah, if anything, you should come by Dommo’s again sometime soon,” he replied. “After all, I still owe you that latté.”

[liviastudiespsych]

My week on Waterloo Bridge

Hi guys, as you may or may not know I spent a week and a half (on and off, not all the time) protesting with Extinction Rebellion. It has been one of the best experiences of my life and I will never forget it. I really wanted to make a post about it to clear my head, put my thoughts black on white and to share a few things I have learned.

I don’t want to, because I really want people to read this, but I’ll have to put a read under the cut cause this is tooooo long.

First of all, what is Extinction Rebellion (or XR for short). XR is a non-violent movement that was mostly rooted in the UK but present in several countries around the world, about climate change. By that I mean that the whole scope of the protest was to sensitise the public about climate change and demand an action from the governments through acts of pacific social disobedience. Such as occupying a bridge, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it (I’m so funny lol). Social disobedience in the case of XR has been disrupting traffic, occupying major spots and raising the voice against a perceived wrong doing of the government who hasn’t been listening to the science, the warnings and the speaking up of people. To be precise, XR wants to stop climate change to stop the otherwise inevitable and catastrophic changes that will happen to our planet in 12 years if we don’t act NOW. This was based mostly, but not only on the 2018 IPCC report (which you can find here if you are interested x) that explains how the rise of the planet’s overall temperature could cause irreparable damage to the amount of global ice which would in turn mean a rise of the ocean, floods and other natural disasters that would possibly mean migration of humans to better areas, overpopulation and starvation. These are not opinions. XR feels that if we don’t act now, there will be a problem in the near future so they set 3 demands:

Government must tell the truth and declare climate emergency

Government must make laws to reduce all carbon emission (which is related to global warming) by 2025

Creation of a citizen assembly to oversee and asses changes

It’s important to mention that none of this was legal. And part of the movement’s idea was that getting people arrested is important because it brings visibility and it forces the government to engage with the protest (more on this later).

Good, now that we have cleared this first let’s dive into my experience.

I got involved with XR on the second day of the London protests (tuesday the 16th of April, 2019) when a friend of a friend came from Edinburgh to take part and brought us along. What I saw that day was I-N-C-R-E-D-I-B-L-E an entire bridge, one of the mostly used in London, was completely empty of cars. We could walk on the bridge and there were plants and music and people. It was so beautiful. That day I spent it all there, on that bridge. We even slept there, or tried to. I left at 3 am because I was too cold. But not before we had a massive dance party on that bridge. Day 2 was wednesday. And that day too I spent it on the bridge and that night we went around the other occupied places in London until 6 am in the morning when we collapsed home to sleep for a few hours. I danced in a completely empty Parliament Square. I sang in front of a pink boat in the middle of Oxford Circus. I had an animated discussion about climate change next to a sea of tent in Marble Arch. London was like a place I had never seen. Day 3 was Thursday which too I spent on and off that bridge, leaving only when the police started to arrest people only to be back for another night of roaming the occupied streets of London and I saw the most beautiful dawn on the City. On Friday I was there again as my friends were being arrested and almost got in trouble myself. I took a few days because if four days I had slept about four hours in total not per night and I was sleep deprived. I was back one final time the 23rd to march to Parliament Square and show the MPs what we were about.

Some things that will forever stay with me of those days are the amazing people I have met all over those sites and the awesome stories I have heard all through the protest. The chant of “whose bridge?” “OUR BRIDGE!” will forever be in my memory. The overall feeling of being together, sharing something everyone was so passionate about, to discuss important topics and to feel like even if this might not result in nothing at least we tried, at least we did our best. For my future. For my children’s future. I thought about my future children a lot this protest. A bit sombre and a bit happy. Maybe we created a chance for them, maybe their generation will be better. I saw those days what London (and a lot of cities) could be like. There was a place for children to play, there were trees in the middle of the road - something I personally am not used to as having grown up in a big city - and the human interaction was warm and welcoming. I hope, if nothing else, that we will keep this at least in memory to change the way we interact with others, to make us more open. I learnt what it means to be able to socialise like that. I learnt what it mean to be part of a real community. I learnt how to make myself useful for others. I learnt how to talk about important topics. I met extraordinary people and honestly, I had a blast.

I also will remember the opposition and critics we got.

We were called “Cunts!” shouted at us from a motorbike as we were simply walking. We were called “You fucking cunts.” again, with no provocation. We were called “You fucking hippies.” by a punk drunk dude at 4 am. We got called “Socialist scum” to which someone I don’t know replied “Yes and proud of”. I want to point out that the movement was non violent. That it was the most peaceful protest ever seen by the met police. That no police officer got hurt.

I heard a lot of people say “I support you and your idea, but not how you are doing it.” which I understand, I honestly do. From outside we must look like a bunch of assholes blocking a bridge and not letting you get to work. But other ways were tried before and no one listened. This got everyone’s attention. I am not saying you have to agree with the way, but keep an open mind, support in other ways. We are not doing this to hurt you personally, we are doing it to save the planets.

I also heard a lot of “Well, what’s this going to do?” to which I am simply going to say: what’s that going to do? Being all pessimistic about it. At least we are trying.

Also a few more notes. It was not a privileged movement of stuck up middle class. It was not. I met people from everywhere, every social extraction and a lot of different backgrounds, I promise you.

Now, the arrest. I know 3 people who got arrested. 2 of which I consider good friends at this point. And I met countless more who shared their stories. No one I know has been charged. Why? Because there were more than a THOUSAND arrest in the UK alone and there was no way they could process everyone. So unless you glued yourself to something, you were not charged. I did not get arrested because I can’t. And I know a lot of people who did the same and left when the police moved in. But I respect those that did. Because it really helped to put the story on the news, it made people stop and say “ah, if they are willing to get arrested there must be something really going on.” No one EVER asked me to get arrested. That is not how the movement works. You can if you want, but no one forces you. Ever. To do anything. There are no requirements. So, no. No forcing, no radicalisation. Nothing of the sort. Just plain and simple social disobedience and people very passionate.

I will continue to be part of XR and we will be back if the requests aren’t met, if we aren’t listened. I am doing this for myself, for my children and for the planet.

TLDR: if it’s too long I will sum it up like this. Help our planet by asking the government to act. I had an amazing week protesting. I will not stop. Climate change is happening. Join Extinction Rebellion

thanks for reading, if anyone did. I will block people being rude under this post. If you have questions/want to PEACEFULLY discuss the issue please do. Basically, don’t be shit.

[marvelxreader]

Secrets - Part 3

You’re best friends with Ned and MJ. You’re really bad at making friends, but then they introduce you to Peter and there’s just something about him that you can’t explain. Who knows? Maybe you’ll actually get along with this guy.

Disclaimer: very fluffy and a few curse words, but oh well

Word count: 1,9 k

Y/N = Your Name

Part 1, Part 2, Part 4

You were talking on the phone to MJ about last night, but decided not to mention the kiss. You assumed it wasn’t important anyways, since you haven’t heard from him after he left you standing there.

„I‘m really glad you‘re getting along with him, Y/N“

You just hummed in response, trying to hide the fact that you only told her half the story.

„Wanna hang out later?“, she asked you.

You would love to, but you knew Peter would be there as well and the thought of seeing him made your stomach turn.

„I can‘t, I still need to finish my science project. Sorry, MJ“, you said, trying to sound as convincing as possible.

„Alright then, see you tomorrow“

And with that, you hung up.

————————————————

You were scratching Tessa‘s favorite spot while watching the News.

„Spiderman put an end to a late night robbery at 1:15 am earlier this morning. He has reportedly fought 3 people trying to break into a cashpoint at the Queens Community Bank. Due to unknown circumstances, the Deli-Grocery on the other side of the street caught fire during the fight. While Spiderman was busy with the criminals, Iron Man rescued the owner of the Deli and his cat. Both heroes at the same time, in the same place? Doesn’t seem like a coincidence to us. Does this confirm Spiderman as a new member of the Avengers? We‘ll have to wait and see!“

And then it clicked. The sticky webs he made in chemistry class, him constantly leaving out of nowhere, the red and blue „sweater“ in his backpack yesterday and the „internship“ with Tony Stark. Your jaw dropped to the floor as you realized that Peter Parker, the boy you couldn‘t stop thinking about, was actually Spiderman. A wave of mixed feelings washed over you. You understood why he had to leave after the kiss, but you were still disappointed. It was the middle of the night and your apartment was a 45 minute walk away. What if something happened to you on your way home? You asked yourself what he would have done if you were the one who needed saving, but your thoughts got interrupted by the doorbell before you could think of an answer.

You got up and answered the door, Tessa following you like a shadow and to your surprise, Peter was standing right in front of you with a bouquet of flowers in his hands. You rolled your eyes and let him in.

„So, an internship huh? I don‘t think ‚internship’ is the right word for fighting bad guys and saving people with Iron Man, but maybe that‘s just me“, you said sarcastically, walking back to the living room, leaving him there with an open mouth.

„Does May know? Do Ned and MJ know? Or am I the only person on earth who didn‘t know that you‘re Peter during the day and fucking Spiderman at night?!“, you raised your voice, losing control for a moment.

Peter was just standing there, not saying a word, still holding the flowers in his hands. He was shocked that someone had figured out his biggest secret.

„I‘m sorry to break it to you, but if you came here to just stand in my hallway in silence, you can leave again“, you hissed.

„How did you find out?“, he said with a calm voice.

„You weren‘t hiding it very well. You make your webs in chemistry class and let them explode everywhere, like seriously? You told us about your ‚internship‘ with Tony Stark and suddenly Iron Man has a new sidekick? Come on, you don‘t have to be Sherlock to find out“

He nodded at your words, realizing his mistakes.

„To answer your question from earlier, no. No one knows, except for you and Mr. Stark and I don‘t want to change that for now“, Peter said.

„It’s a wonder that no one else figured it out yet, you‘re hiding skills are absolute trash“, you chuckled.

„I‘m actually here to apologize for yesterday. I would love to have stayed, but now you know the reason why I had to leave..“, he held out the flowers to you.

You looked at him, contemplating whether you would forgive him that easy or not.

„What if something happened to me while you were busy beating up three guys at a bank? You knew how long the walk back home would be, you live on the same street. You left me alone in drenched clothes at Central Park in the middle of the night, Peter“

Your words felt like a knife to his chest and you could see the guilt in his eyes.

„You‘re right. I‘m so sorry Y/N, I should have brought you back home safely. This internship is so important to me and I get a bit carried away with it. I won‘t leave you like this next time“

„What makes you so sure that there will be a next time?“, you asked him.

„Well, I was hoping we could spend some time together again“, he said shyly.

You smiled at him and accepted the flowers.

„You‘re lucky you‘re cute, Parker“

You hugged him, his big arms pulling you closer and you felt like he was going to crush you.

„You‘re suffocating me“, you chuckled.

„I‘m sorry, I‘m just so glad you‘re not mad at me. It feels good to have someone to talk to, thank you for understanding“

He looked at you lovingly and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead.

„I really could get used to this“, he said and you hummed in response.

————————————————

The two of you were discussing Einstein‘s theory of relativity while walking down the street towards your apartment, a bag of chinese take-out in your hand. The sun was about to set and Queens looked it‘s best in the golden hour.

You were standing in front of your apartment door, turning the key in it‘s lock. You went inside, got two pairs of cutlery and left the flat again.

„What are you doing, babe?“

„First of all, we‘re going to eat on the rooftop. Excellent view and it‘s golden hour, so it’s even more beautiful. Second of all, ‘babe’? Do you call that Mr. Stark as well? You know, I don‘t want him to get jealous or anything“, you jokingly said, earning a chuckle from Peter.

You got to the rooftop of your apartment building, stunned by the view once again. It just gets you every time.

You sat down on the edge with your legs hanging from the building, opening your box of fried rice.

„Isn‘t that a bit dangerous, so close to the edge?“, he asked you with a worried expression on his face.

„Oh come on, I‘m here with a goddamn superhero. Also, I think you‘ve done way more dangerous things during your ‚internship‘ than this“, you winked at him, patting the space beside you, signalling him to sit down.

„Hm, you’ve got a point there“ he mumbled while making himself comfortable next to you.

The two of you ate in comfortable silence, watching the sunset.

„So, how did this all start?“, you asked him.

„A spider bit me a few years ago and after that, I gained spider-like abilities. It was scary at first, but after a while I got the hang of it and decided to use it for good and fight crime in the neighborhood“

„What do you mean by spider-like abilities?“

„Well, I‘m strong and fast, I can climb walls, I heal a lot quicker than most people and my senses are just an absolute mess. It‘s like they‘ve been dialed to eleven“

„That sounds crazy.. Wait a minute, do you lay eggs?“, you looked at him with big eyes.

„What? No, of course not“, Peter laughed at your question.

„Thank god“, you exclaimed, „Have you met all the Avengers yet?“

„Actually yes. I‘ve already fought against half of them and believe it or not, I stole Captain America‘s shield“, he said, obviously proud of himself, „but enough of me. I want to hear more about you, Y/N“

„I‘m really not that interesting“

„I‘ve never been more interested in anything else“

You blushed at his sweet answer. What you had with Peter was something different. It felt like you‘ve known each other for a lifetime, but you don‘t even know his middle name. It was kind of weird, so you thought of some random things about you.

„I love Pizza, but I hate cheese. Pizza is literally the only cheesy thing I eat“

„Are you insane?“, he chuckled, „Tell me more“

„There’s nothing more fascinating to me than the universe, but I get really bad existential crises when I think too much about it. Also, the moon looks best when it‘s shaped like a toenail“, you looked at Peter, afraid you might bore him too much. He concentrated on every word though, so you kept going.

„My first pet was a hamster named Totoro and I still know the words to every song from High School Musical 1, 2 and 3. MJ and I used to watch it multiple times a day and we still sing the duets together sometimes. The only time we‘ve had a slight ‚argument‘ was when we both wanted to be Gabriella, so we forced Ned to sing Troy‘s part“, you laughed at the memory and Peter chimed in.

„Oh man, I wish I knew you back then. I would have happily been your Troy“, he said with a smile, looking at you.

„You certainly would have been a better choice than Ned, because that boy can‘t sing for shit. And don‘t get me started on his dancing..“, you chuckled.

You kept talking as Peter noticed little things about you. The way your eyes change color in different lighting, how your nose scrunches up when you laugh and the way your voice gets a bit higher when you talk about something you‘re passionate about.

„..And that‘s the story of me breaking Ned‘s nose by accident, but according to your expression you’ve already stopped listening to me about 5 minutes ago, so what‘s the matter?“, you pulled him out of his thoughts.

„Huh? Sorry, I was just.. thinking about something“

„Jokes on you, because you‘ve just missed a great story. What were you thinking about?“

„This probably sounds really cheesy, but you‘re just too stunning, it distracted me a bit“, he blushed and looked away.

„You‘re right, a bit too cheesy for my taste“, you said, intertwining your fingers with his, „but still cute“

He looked up at you and leaned in for a kiss, as you saw something suspicious on the street below you.

„No time for making out, there’s a lady getting robbed“, you said in a concerned voice, pointing down.

In an instant, Peter got his suit out of the backpack and changed into it. He climbed down the walls of your apartment building in a matter of seconds, catching the robber just in time, while you called the police.

Peter shot a web at him, so he couldn‘t escape before the police arrived and while the burglar stuck to the brick wall behind him, Peter made sure the lady was fine.

You knew this wasn‘t a big deal for him compared to the other things he has done, but you‘ve never felt so proud in your entire life and you had to admit, this was the moment you fell for Peter.

[astereaholloway]

- ̗̀ * ( sophie turner + cisfemale + she/her ) have you seen ( aster holloway ) walking around campus ? they are a ( twenty-one ) year old, studying ( botany + entomology ). we hear they are in ( theta sigma eta ), and can be ( opinionated & daunting ), maybe it’s because they are an ( aries ). they sort of remind us of ( abandoned greenhouses, spinning bike wheels , iridescent pocket knives ), maybe we can find out more ! *  ̖́-  + habitat

i yeet’d holliday for this child o’ mine pls love her bc i love her sm i’ll prolly change her fc to sophie turner as soon as i get tired of cropping gifs of saoirse but enjoy her face for now sksksk. like this n i’ll come to u!!

tw: fire, death, cancer, etc. etc.

gen. info

full name: aster holloway

nickname(s): n/a, give her one n she’ll cut you probably

b.o.d. - april 1st.

label(s): the hellcat, the minefield, the connard, etc. etc.

height: probably like 5′7″ or 5′8″ tbh

hometown: inglewood, california

sexuality: chaotic. lesbian.

bio. info

hasn’t had the most......stable, life

born to dahlia verbeck, a botanist, wildlife conservationist, and volunteer firefighter whose presence was very well known in south california’s environmental scene

to keep a long story short, she married maverick holloway; a sleazy low-rank cop with a smoking problem and an obnoxious personality when she was 19. he was nearly twice her age. nobody knows why she married him, or why she tolerated him

the relationship was by no means abusive, but it was lackluster

this led to dahlia having a one night stand, and baba boom baba bing, aster was conceived

 the only one who knew that the child wasn’t maverick’s was dahlia’s twin brother, donovan, whose career was p much the exact same as dahlia’s

they were basically both mad scientists; when dahlia started slacking because of her pregnancy, donovan would kick it up

like ykno the twin scientists in bioshock infinite ?? that them like they were eerily alike, always finishing each other’s sentences. nightmare fuel.

the only difference was that donovan was considerably less intense than dahlia b/c dahlia was the kinda lass who would set fire to your car

anywAYs so aster was born and everything was fine n dandy until she got a lil older and it suddenly became clear that this child was absolutely not maverick’s at all because they looked. nothing alike. like u know when u can just tell ?? yeah. yeah u could tell

maverick left dahlia afterwards and it was essentially up to her to raise aster alone. donovan had his own wife and kid to take care of and sort of backed down from his career to do so. house dads ftw

aster grew up knowing her dad as some ‘deadbeat no good’ simply bc dahlia was bitter

also grew up as the kid who would hold worms over another kid’s face and taunt them w/ it. so like, playground bully. that was aster. she’s not ashamed of it

she was often left on her own to do her own kinda shit b/c her mom was always busy out in nature n’ shit but aster never minded; loved her mom a Lot

aster’s life changed when she was nine

her mother had been doing research out in the ~wilderness~ with donovan, after months of convincing him of doing this one last project with her~ when the wildfires started

it spread so fast, and they were already too far away from the road

it took them two months to confirm that the twins were dead

rather than leave aster to maverick, elaine--donovan’s wife--took her under her wing and moved across the country to boston alongside myra, her daughter

elaine always held a resentment towards aster because of her mother, but never did anything about it--it was just always, sorta, implied ?

but myra and aster got along swimmingly despite being polar opposites

aster was p much a feral child, and myra had been receiving etiquette lessons since birth, practically--like, literally

elaine put them in the same hobbies but aster always found ways to be wildly different from the ~standard~

myra learned cello and flute, aster started up on bass and drums (breaking both instruments, repeatedly, for many years)

elaine forced dance onto the both of them, and whilst they both excelled at ballet--aster switched over to a more free-flowing dance as soon as she was able to

(that and when elaine tried to put aster in sports instead of dance--figuring her fiery nature would be put to good use--aster managed to get kicked off of every single team of every single sport she tried b/c of her aggression. theyve had to fight a few lawsuits after aster’s broken a number of noses and sporting equipments)

myra was learning two languages, aster? dyslexic and could barely read english as it was; science made sense to her, however. plants? especially.

people confused myra and aster for twins nearly all the damn time, despite only being cousins, they were so alike and yet so opposite

that was, of course, until they got into a nasty spat when they were seventeen

it was something about dead parents and resentments and yadda yadda; it didn’t end well

aster wound up running away......all the way back to los angeles.

n i mean like......homegirl literally managed to run away across the gd country w/o getting caught or murdered

by the time she arrived in los angeles her aunt was sort of like ‘fuck it ur almost 18′ b/c....aster was nearly 18 by the time she arrived in the city, and elaine contacted maverick who in which found aster

aster did not want to go with him, after hearing stories about him just being no-good

but at that point, maverick was one of los angeles’ head detectives with a beautiful apartment and a beautiful wife and a beautiful dog and just kind of living his best life ?? after dahlia’s death he had really cleaned himself up y’kno

aster still kind of resented him but that was more of an inner thing

anyways she started attending ucla b/c her mother attended ucla, but her mother wasn’t a part of a sorority

it was one of those spur of the moment decisions and like nobody knows how aster ended up in theta sigma eta b/c she’s like a grumpy grandmother

but like she dun’ did that

we stan

a year ago maverick was diagnosed w cancer and has been in the hospital battling it ever since, aster is admittedly effected by it but like would never tell anybody ever

she doesn’t really tell anybody anything about her life, like, it’s a gd mystery

uuuuuuuuh aster works in a floral shop as a florist and grows her own shit ranging from fruits, vegetables, weed, shrooms, uh opium poppies yeah she Does that

it’s organic n fresh n shit like the devil works hard but aster works harder

she doesn’t really ~sell~ too often b/c she’s kinda selfish w her stash but it’s some top notch shit when she does 

no she doesn’t grow in the floral shop she’s not Stupid

aster inherited some of her mother’s properties Out There so she drives up almost everyday to take care of her plants

uuuhh fun fact, aster’s part of a dance like...company, kind of? but not really ? outside of ucla b/c she hates being involved in school shit besides habitat for humanity

personality

v v v harsh tbh

she won’t beat around the bush, usually...brutally honest, tbh?

like lbr she’s kind of a bitch too

just v offputting at first b/c she tells it like how it is n doesn’t rly care abt ur problems

doesn’t go around lookin’ for new friends but if you’re tight w her then she’ll probably die for u like she’s v loyal

but if u wrong her like even once she’ll drop u and treat u like right shit

she either feels intensely or nothing at all n that’s like. smth u have to deal w/

she’s v v v chaotic neutral, bordering evil--really works in her own favors

became a botanist after her mother bc she admired her mother more than anybody else

not saying that being vegan is a personality trait

but

aster’s a vegan

n just super hardcore into saving the earth n shit?

litter and she’ll break ur nose, basically

v into sustainable living n shit. rides her bicycle everywhere if she can, rly rarely drives, doesn’t do fast fashion at ALL

v v passionate, will argue w/ u until u admit she’s right even if she’s painfully wrong

like super stubborn, v opinionated, assumes the worst of u immediately

a lil cynical, but is more realist than pessimist

BIG FUCKING GAY

like so gay

she’s not Out-Out but she definitely doesn’t hide it, just doesn’t think it’s necessary to be like ‘im gay’ every 5 minutes n doesn’t think it’s necessary to let ppl kno she’s gay b/c shes just like....its my business

kinda bitch to flirt w dudes for fun in order to lead them on, get them to do things for her, etc. etc. just to disappoint in the end

this is big dumbass energy b/c that’s how u get stabbed

unless aster stabs u first

kinda gal who’ll key ur car if u piss her off during a class debate, but will also stick thumb tacks into ur wheels n shit too

like.....i said she’s spiteful, right? b/c she can b so spiteful

really, genuinely, has no regard for other ppl’s feelings

her music taste is either heavy rock or straight up like grimes/die antwoord there is no in between (prolly listens to billie eilish tho)

owns a pet tarantula n yes she has it in her dorm n Yes she brings it out n plays w it n shit her name is stevie nicks n u better respect her

big slut

would never cheat on u but also probably wouldn’t date u in the first place bc she’s scared of like....being in a relationship b/c all of hers are p much on the rocks

probably carries around a pocket knife at all times

probably bought said pocket knife from a dude in an alleyway for like $5 

myra also goes to ucla and theyre 100% still not speaking but that’s bc they’re both too stubborn to go to each other but like lbr aster misses her cousin

v unruly, nvr brushes her hair, usually got dirt on her clothes bc she’s prolly been digging in gardens or stealing flowers or some shit

bright side is tht she always smells like flowers

theta sigma eta is lucky b/c she cooks her own meals w her own fresh veggies n shit n she always makes too much food n like ? so good

but anyways she’s also got like no manners okay she’s so impolite

uuuuuuh god i dunno what else

wanted connections

ride or die

other friends of varying closeness

ex-friends ???

...like somebody she’s into but also...not into? v conflicted feelings

on-and-off-agains bc their relationship is awful n probably toxic but it just. hurt so good

ex-gfs

ex-hookups

boys she’s led on

boys she’s currently leading on

flirtatious encounter gone wrong [not clickbait] ??

enemies

enemies but gone sexual [not clickbait]

buyers of her products - either weed, shrooms, or opium teehee

roommate

give her somebody she was a uwu soft crush on but would nvr do anything abt bc gross romance !!

alternately, unrequited crushes of any sorts

fellow gays b/c gays always end up knowing each other

party pals

frenemies ??

sdfgh give me her dad’s trophy wife pleathe....it’d be so funny

childhood friends tht knew her b4 she moved to boston so like...ages 0-9

childhood friends tht knew her after she moved to boston so like...ages 9-17

or acquaintances bc she was....a mean one

A TUTOR just b/c she can rly struggle w her dyslexia

[prkcr]

hey there demons, it’s me, ya girl...again. and if you don’t know who i am, then my name is sam, she / her, 21, est timezone and i’m so excited to be here! i wasn’t feeling very inspired with luna so i decided to switch her out with an old favorite muse of mine! ( truly i......love this garbage can SO MUCH. ) that being said, let’s look at the theories! aka i’m a buzzfeed unsolved stan and parker’s intro will be under the cut, so feel free to give that a look and message me if you would like to plot!

「 DANIEL SHARMAN, CISMALE, 27, RISE AGAINST. 」┈ did you read that latest viral gossip issue on RILEY PARKER?  he is the LEAD GUITARIST in RENEGADE, one of my favorite HARDCORE PUNK groups. they’ve been releasing music for FIVE YEARS now, but viral gossip has only been talking about them for the last MONTH. get this, i think i heard HE COULD BE FACING JAIL TIME DUE TO AN ALTERCATION WITH PAPARAZZI. they’re known as the MISFIT of the music industry, since they have a rep for being DAUNTLESS but TEMERARIOUS, but who knows. maybe that will change once they become #1.

so, this guy right here...riley ignatius parker...will throw hands if you call him anything other than parker. it’s what everyone calls him. you gotta be really special to call him riley and not immediately get decked for it

parker was born to a wealthy family in a small but affluent village called alderley edge in cheshire, england. his family is stupid rich, hails from a long line of architects and business people. he spent his early years sheltered and pampered and homeschooled by tutors and nannies, so his parents never spent much time with him, but that’s okay because he never really got along with his parents anyway.

has an identical twin brother named rian who he never ever talks about mostly because they absolutely DESPISE each other. rian thinks parker is a disgrace to their family name, parker thinks his brother is a sheep who turned out exactly like their parents because he always did whatever they said without question. they haven’t seen each other in ages and for the longest time all their interactions have ended in ( usually physical ) fights anyway.

parker’s always been a HUGE TROUBLEMAKER with a restless nature and desire to ~be free~, so his wealthy, uptight, lowkey shady af parents who are obsessed with the family’s image could never really deal with him and eventually resorted to sending him off to boarding schools all over england, just one after the other bc ofc he kept getting kicked out for one reason or another. 

about the only thing he enjoyed about his childhood and schooling were his music lessons. he was taught to play piano, violin, and even the harp. other things like math and history and science didn’t come easily to him at all, but music? he was great at it, and he’s always loved it. during his teen years while away at boarding school was when he first procured an electric guitar and learned to play. along with that, he also discovered punk music, aka the greatest thing in the entire fucking universe if you ask him. far as music goes, he'd found his calling in his early teenage years, but it would take a while for that to really feel legitimate to parker.

he was basically that rebellious kid in all the movies who wore doc martens with his prim & proper school uniform and carried around a pocket knife and cut class to go smoke while vandalizing school property and would absolutely fuck up some prissy pretty boy’s face just for looking at him the wrong way.

literally the only reason he actually graduated rather than flunking out or getting kicked out of every fancy boarding school in the uk was because his father was able to pull some strings aka bought his very last boarding school a whole new library wing. parker did actually consider running away a few times, but there was a part of him really reaaaaally deep down that actually enjoyed some aspects of school ( though he very strongly believes many education systems across the world need a serious overhaul and blahblahblah don’t ask him unless you want a lecture ). anyway, the moment he was done with school, he did finally skip out on...well, everything and everyone and ditched the country altogether, heading out first to new york city for about two years, then california for the last seven.

he’s been completely independent of his parents since the age of 18 and hasn’t had any access to their money since they cut him off for basically running away from home and since renegade only recently hit it big, he’s probably still a little poor tbh.

and since moving to california he’s been jumping from disgusting apartment to disgusting apartment and from shitty job to shitty job. played in various bands on the side, mostly for fun and even sometimes as a frontman himself, but when he joined renegade about five years ago as the lead guitarist, he immediately knew that this was his place. parker absolutely loves being in the band and wouldn’t trade it for anything at all. that being said, the fame that’s sorta popped in out of nowhere in the past month ( ever since renegade signed with a major record label ) has been...something else. being that he’s from a prominent and wealthy family he’s quite used to attention, but he’s also one of those everyone in hollywood is so fake where’s the real people making real music types and seeing as he has a very very short temper...well, parker’s already got a reputation for being a bad boy and yeah, he actually kind of is. he’s especially not a big fan of the paparazzi and is known to be very rude with them and get into actual physical fights with them he will throw hands with a n y o n e i’m telling you. his most recent run - in with a photographer who wouldn’t leave him alone even after parker told him to fuck off a few times ended in him being charged with assault and battery. long story short, he beat the guy’s face in with his own camera. parker’s...eh about it. he doesn’t really care? if you ask him, the guy should’ve just left alone when he told him to and it’s not like parker hasn’t been to jail before. he’s a vandal, a thief, gets into fights more often than he breathes but hey he usually wins so there’s that

i think that’s all i have for backstory atm though i will update this post if i ever feel it necessary. anyway, onto personality!

looks like he could kill you and could actually kill you

that’s it that’s all you need to know

nah jk there’s actually a few more things! first off, he’s basically the living breathing personification of the jerk with a heart of gold tv trope. so, he seems like a major jerk most of the time and that’s because he kind of is. especially around hollywood people, he’s standoffish and snide and just all - around has a bad attitude. he’s very short tempered and impulsive af, but underneath all of that he’s actually an observant and caring person. like, he’s not very book smart but he’s good at reading people and WOW DOES HE FEEL EVERYTHING SO DEEPLY. he’s a ridiculously passionate person. he feels everything all the time. every emotion is felt in extremes and the one that’s usually most prominent? ANGER.

see, parker is just a very angry person because he’s seen the way things are in the world. he’s lived a life of wealth and unimaginable opulence, but then he’s also been so poor that he’s slept beside dumpsters in alleyways. there are so many people out there who need healing in so many ways and he’s seen it for himself so he knows it’s true. yet, nobody really seems to wanna help. so many people seem to be involved in activism for show or for good person points and he just he HATES it. he constantly wants to scream about all of the unfair things going on in the world and how much he wants to just make them better because he is actually a rather compassionate person when someone is in need.

like, he’s the type of guy who says thank you to waiters and janitors and average, working class people — though i imagine anyone who doesn’t know him very well would be surprised by that.

thinks robin hood was a guy with some great ideas

feminist af

extremely sarcastic

also extremely english. he talks with a very thick accent ( similar to how daniel sharman talks actually if you wanted that point of reference for some reason ) and yeah, he’s fulfilling a stereotype here but he doesn’t care — he loves a good cup of tea.

not usually one to initiate conversations but once he actually gets into talking he can be a pretty cool person to talk with. he actually has a lot to say about many different topics and if you can handle his constant like every other word swearing, then parker might just be your guy to have a deep af conversation with at 3am

along that deep af vein, he enjoys the songwriting process a lot and i imagine he’s very involved in it with renegade. he totally doesn’t seem like the type, but he’s got this old messy notebook that he takes with him everywhere and it’s just full of song ideas and other random things. it’s basically a physical manifestation of parker’s brain, so he’s probably not about to just hand it off to some random person. if you want notebook privileges then he’s gotta trust you that’s just how it is

also, a total lovesick fool when he's got a thing for someone — a soft but only for you type and it’s highkey cute af

doesn’t care much for wealth at all. he’s lived that life before, didn’t like it, and these days he’d rather wear his favorite old band shirt stained with motor oil and eat greasy diner food ( mostly french fries ) than have some grandiose celebrity experience. 

not the easiest person to befriend or be friends with, but if you do have him for a friend then guess what? you have him FOR LIFE. parker is super loyal — a true ride or die but don’t fuck it up with him because if you do he will hold a grudge forever

which reminds me: he’s got a motorcycle and HE LOVES IT. he pretty much built it himself from scratch and it’s just...it’s literally his child ok he will FREAK IF YOU TOUCH HIS MOTORCYCLE OK /F R E A K/ LIKE DON’T EVEN LOOK AT IT THE WRONG WAY

i feel like his reputation precedes him even though he hasn’t been around very long and that’s definitely thanks that messy altercation with the paparazzi. like, he literally beat this photographer up with his own fucking camera?? word has definitely gotten around and i think some people might be wary or even afraid of him?? 

though really aside from his short temper he really is and really tries to be a decent guy. anyone who knows him well would see that very clearly and honestly, that’s probably why they stick around even though he can be very difficult.

i think that’s probably enough from me for the moment, right? there’s probably some stuff i’m forgetting, but if i don’t get to a bio page then i’ll just edit this with anything else. i also don’t have a plot page yet but i definitely want all of the connections, so please do feel free to message me if you would like to plot! i’m so excited to write with you all!

[tempestshakes01]

3/24/19

Here’s another entry in this embarrassing public online diary (I love it.):

Health: 4/10 

The weird cough is still lingering, but now it’s gotten a bit worse in the daytime. I’m still hacking up mucus until I vomit (or moan and cry to NOT vomit because I just ate and I’d rather NOT throw up a bacon burger, thanks) and it’s fuckin miserable. I’m worried that if this lasts, I’ll have to fly like this and my flight is an overnighter--prime cough/nausea/vomit hours. UGH. 

Other than the cough and my persistent jaw acne, I’m the perfect picture of health. I feel great. 

Well, no. My ass has a massive bruise because yesterday I slipped down Leah’s stairs (wood laminate is slippery as hell in socks!) running to the bathroom to...ugh...puke up a glob of mucus and bits of burger. 

But other than that! 

Work: 7/10

I still feel like I did something wrong and no one is telling me. I’m friendlier and peppier now that the winter blues (read: depression) are slipping away with the sunny skies and warmer weather (all that snow--16 inches on the ground at the start of the month--melting), but I think the damage is done. 

Except, other than not being super chatty, I’m not sure what the damage is. The only admin that’s normal is the principal. We’re getting along great! A few colleagues are still the same including Mr. Married Lumberjack whom I had a crush on.  

I’m probably paranoid though. I’m also bored out of my mind. Things are smooth for 85% of the time and that’s...great, but also...it’s too smooth and I feel judged doing more because Veronica is gone. 

Okay, so that most likely makes no sense, but it’s how I feel. 

Home: 9.5/10

Things are superb with my parents. I’m headed to D.C. with my mom next week (along with every 8th grader in America...I’m so stupid...) and we’re going to try to keep it as civil as possible when it comes to politics. My dad is texting, but not smothering me with attention. In fact, I should call him more.

My sister seems to be doing...the same. Lots of astrology posts on the gram, but no mention of Paris (her potentially mentally-ill ex) so that’s a relief. The kids are doing great as well. Nick and I are texting more often. He even asked my advice about our parents which was new. I want to ask him about Alyssa because I’m still utterly curious about that situation, but I know he’s still hurting over it and the fact that he had a “quarter-life” crisis when he was working 50+ hours, going to school full time, and interning at the church. He’s decided to graduate as quickly as possible, quit the preacher path, and stay in the coffee game. 

Apparently, he got a promotion and a raise, so he’s making really great money. Plus, he’s like...super passionate about coffee. More passionate than he ever seemed about Jesus or school. 

We’re currently fighting about NCAA brackets and our current favorite music, and it’s great. 

Friends: 6/10

Reconnecting with Jack and Nicol is super nice. I just don’t know how to proceed and how quickly and if I’m an annoyance. I also want Nicol without Jack as well, but I don’t want to offend either of them (not that I think it would! but the chance makes me hesitate...) and they’re such a partnership that I wonder if it IS a big request to separate them. 

We went to see Us today and I didn’t like it very much. We’re going to see Back to the Future on Tuesday at the old theater. They invited me to the former; I invited them to the latter. I trust this will all work out.

Gosh, and I don’t trust Leah at ALL which is wild because I probably hang out with her the most out of anyone, but yeah. There’s something about that girl that I don’t trust. 

Went on Facebook and saw a photo of my childhood best friends (we were a trio: Valerie, Kristina, and I). They were on a backpacking trip together in Alaska. They live entirely different lives, but they still maintained a great friendship over the years. God, and they went into chemical engineering so they’re both making BANK, but they’re the most down-to-earth women. 

I don’t know...I guess it makes me think...for the billionth time...how different my life would be if we’d never moved from El Paso. 

El Paso was idyllic. My childhood consisted of bike rides out into the desert, street games with a plethora of neighborhood boys, summer secrets and stars, theme parks and athletics, best friends who were boys that I knew I could fall in love with, best friends who were girls and I knew I could trust with my whole heart. I lived a good life there. 

When I left, things started to peel apart, but it sort of seemed--for the most part--most of the El Paso crew grew up in the same way they had been...in that easy, perfect sunset sort of way. Most everyone I grew up with went Homecoming and Prom and did senior sunrise and went to good schools where they did the greek life and then got jobs in the sciences or medicine or moved out to Hollywood. They’re utterly normal and successful now in a very...the way they tell you things will go in life. 

Anyway, that childhood best friend I thought I could fall in love with? Went through a long-haired rave phase circa 2012/13, but is currently dating a white girl who wears cowboy boots, no makeup, and studies sports medicine in the same grad program as him. It’s the way things were supposed to be and it’s just weird to see their lives (through the filter and lens of social media) go so simply. Also, his hairline is going and he looks bloated, so the white-half is coming for him in the aging process, ha. His Mexican mom still looks BOMB, so poor guy for inheriting his dad’s hair follicles. 

And anyway, that childhood best friend I could trust with my whole heart? Dating a republican future politician named John Smith and traveling South American for the next couple weeks working in various hospital and women’s health care. She’s a nurse and probably a damn good one. She got her boobs done a couple years ago and I sometimes wonder if we’d still get along. 

Media: 5/10

This is a bullshit category just to give a VM hot-takes, but I’ll play into my own bullshit. 

I’m not watching any TV except B99. I watch about 3 movies a week and I try to make 1 a classic or a “difficult” title. I watch mostly youtube, to be honest. I like Hot Ones, Bon Appetit, Jenna Marbles, theTryGuys, Tasty, Brave Wilderness, Millenium Dance Complex ‘n’ adjacent choreographers’ channels, and various media video essays. 

I’m reading a lot of books...but they’re all YA. Which isn’t bad! I’m just laughing that it took me reading Airborn by Kenneth Oppel (my favorite adventure YA book) out loud to the students to remind my dumb reading brain how fun books could be. Apparently, I’m a fantastic reader and I do wonderful voice and I make the story seem like a movie. We’re on the sequel and I’m about to start the His Dark Materials series.  

That Worlds podium? TRASH. Justice for S/B. 

Yeah, so I’m on a VM cleanse, right? Cause with the winter and all the crazy, it was just an unhealthy piece of media in my life. I miss the GC though, but that’s about it, lol. Oh, and with the new content (I tried to resist!) it’s clear that I did miss them doing their thing and I need to unload some of the thoughts whirling in my head. 

Ugh, I have thoughts about the whole timeline of events because I see people questioning or backtracking, and I’m like? We seriously went through an awful series of events that made all the previous weirdness make sense (but left lingering brand-new weirdness). Except that’ll just bring back old feelings that I’m trying to move on from. 

Geez, I can’t believe I’m about to talk about them in a gossip-y way again, but uh, I’m glad that they seem to be repairing their friendship and that Scott legit looked happy. The vibes are definitely friendship so far, or like, 2015-vibes. Which who knows where that will lead in the future? Will they do things messy like last Fall/Winter? Do they think they can try again or are they now afraid of fucking this up so badly they can’t come back from it? Are they going to accept each other as only friends and maintain those boundaries? You love me, real or not real? WHO KNOWS. I hate this ride.

Also, I’m aware of some of the gossip because I’m fool who caves from time to time for a few minutes and I remember (god, again, I hate that I’m still invested even with this time off) that J was selling her Coachella tickets, and now it’s been announced that VM are doing that show in Korea which takes place the same days as a Coachella weekend. So. Yeah. I’m putting my money on J being in Korea because why sell the tickets (just take a friend), but I’m also still wondering if this is all going to end up like Klawes-era. 

Literally, I wake up believing 100% that J’s gonna be the one Scott’s going to marry because it’s just that time. Then, I go to sleep 98% believing that no matter what, somehow, someway, Tessa and Scott are going to end up together. 

inTERSTIngLY, I have neglected to message Tinder matches the past couple weeks and I believe 50% of the time that I’m going to end up alone because I’m not even trying. (Cut me some slack though. I haven’t had an acne flare-up this bad in years and it’s wrecking my confidence.) 

Music: 10/10

I take hour drives out of town and find obscure trails and I hike for an hour...and let me tell you my Spotify is killing it. 

Current favorite songs:

How Do You Know - CALIPH (you know what I’m thinking) 

Stone Street - MS. WHITE (fun)

anything from Oliver Tree (his music speaks to me as does his fucking stupid meme humor)

Wow. - POST MALONE (sue me)

anything from Duckrth (so much fun) 

Charms - ABEL KORZENIOWSKI (don’t imagine VM dancing to this)

The Cheek of Night - ABEL KORZENIOWSKI

Sucks - ANGELO MOTA (dark and atmospheric hip hop that makes me wish I could dance cause it’s calling to me to choreograph something to it)

bury a friend - BILLIE EILISH (lol I can’t dance, but I’m learning Kodish choreo for this as a workout) 

Beverly Blues - OPIA (a summer jam)

[iwaoihs]

Until the Night turns into Morning

a/n: hi! thank you if you’re going to read this story of mine. i really like this au of percabeth - it gives me all the butterflies and squeals. anyway enjoy!

☾  guitarist!percy + pianist!annabeth

The night sky has never been prettier than before. It was the time of the month where I could just stare at the stars for the rest of my life; where I could forget everything that's running inside my head at the moment. If only. . .

        Instead, I went away from my windowx just diverted my attention to the laptop screen in front of me. And on cue, all the stress and headaches surged into my brain all at once. I groaned in frustration and rested (not gently, by the way) my head on the keyboard with a "thud", inputting in random keys.

         “I fucking hate you, Science!”

        It was also the time of the month where I am in deep shit. By deep shit, I mean being bombarded with school works enough to give you a migraine to last a lifetime.

        That was an exaggeration, but you get the point.

        I lifted my head, and saw my wonderfully written essay. Our dickhead teacher told us to write an essay about Carbon – which I don’t give two fucks about and we need to have at least 500 words.

        Where the fuck am I supposed to get 500 words?

        “I’m going to finish this son of a bitch. I’m going to finish this son of a bitch. I’m going to---“ That was my mantra for the whole night.

        I mean, I’m not really a slack. Actually, I am doing good in school. I don’t get grades below a C, and I plan on maintaining it to get a good chance in a prestigious college. But, that doesn’t stop me from complaining the shitload of school works.

        As I was on my 499th word, a cellphone call interrupted me from my crying.

        Asshole is calling. . .

        I just stared at the screen. A wave of emotions was felt – felicity, confusion and nervousness. With a sigh, I picked it up and cleared my throat.

        “What do you want, Asshole? I was in the middle of---“ I began to talk but he cut me off with a ‘shh’.

        “I know, I know,” he said. “That’s why I’m inviting you to join me in my late night escapades.”

        I looked at the clock hanging up in our wall, 12:30 am, it says.

        I ignored all the butterflies – scratch that, there were motherfucking dragons breathing fire in my stomach. It was already dark outside and chances of murder are higher; so it is a huge no for me. I declined his offer.

        “Oh, come on, Annabeth! Pretty please? I won’t kill you and dump your body in the woods! Swear!”

        I stifled my laugh and replied, “Now that you said that, I am even more reluctant to join you and you ‘escapades’.”

        Well, I was hella up for it. I really need to take in fresh air and see the starry skies to relieve the stress our dickhead of a teacher gave us. But, like I said, chances of murder are at stake.

        Then, he suddenly laughed.

        “What the fuck are you laughing at, Asshole?”

        I imagined him grinning through the phone at the tone of his voice. He sounded very cheeky. “I have something you couldn’t reject. Now, my fine Hoe, listen.”

        “Yeah, I’m listening.”

        “I have peanut butter sandwiches with me.” I internally gasped. “Now, are you going to join me or not?”

        “Fine! Let’s meet in front of my house at 1 am sharp. And, be quiet, please.”

        He chuckled. “Are you going through the fire escape?”

        “Duh, you idiot. Am I supposed to go to the front door and wake the hell out of my parents?”

        “Yeah, yeah, genius---“

        “Bye.”

        And I hung up.

        I heaved another sigh and got up from my not-so-comfortable chair. I grabbed a pair of jeans and a black hoodie. I wore them in a flash and slipped on my good ol’ sneakers. I stared at the full body mirror that I have, contemplating whether my reflection is decent enough for my hopeless crush to see.

        Yeah, that asshole is just a crush, folks. That’s why he is crushing my poor, innocent, dark soul.

           I let my blonde locks hang loose behind my back – thinking that it is a good change. My gray eyes were dull and lifeless, with dark bags underneath them. I guess this isn’t exactly a jaw-dropping reflection.

        Percy. A boy who is a best friend of mine, A boy who plays the guitar with such passion, a boy who loves the ocean with all his heart, a boy who is obsessed with stupid puns, a boy who managed to bring color to my monotone world.

        And, finally, a boy who could never return the feelings I have for him.

        Chill, this is just a crush of mine.

        This will just pass by.

        Everything will go away.

        Nothing good will come out from being hopeful to impossible wants.

        I sighed, and stared at myself in the mirror. “Don’t be stupid, Annabeth. Don’t be stupid, Annabeth. Don’t be stu---“

        And, that was my mantra for the rest of the night.

            At exactly 1 am, the sound of his Honda echoed throughout the quiet neighborhood. But, I wasn’t scared at all – my neighbors are quite heavy sleepers.

         I went out my window and climbed down the fire escape. Percy was already waiting for me, clad in his plaid flannel with a smile plastered on his handsome face. I want to punch him.

         “Oh, Annabeth, a good girl by day and a bad girl by night.” He commented, and whistled after. I just rolled my eyes.

         As I step foot on the ground, he held his arm, still with a smile on his face. “Are you read for our escapades, m’lady?”

         I returned his smile and giggled. I wrapped my arm around his.

         “Of course, kind Sir.”

         And, we went off.

         Inside his car was the smell of his perfume – fuck – and his trusty guitar was at the backseat. I smiled at the sight.

         “You can’t leave Blackjack?” And, by Blackjack, I meant his guitar.

         “Why the fuck would I leave Blackjack?” he said.

         “Touché.”  Was all I could reply.

         When we were sat comfortably in our seats, he turned his music on. And as usual, an Ed Sheeran song was playing. Plus, it was my favorite that was blasting through his car’s speakers.

         Tenerife fucking Sea.

         Uhm, the title doesn’t have the word ‘fucking’ in it. Just so you know.

         “You look so wonderful in your dress,” I sang softly, feeling all the feels and goosebumps. “I like you hair like that.”

         Percy smiled, while his hand was on the wheel. “You should sing more, Annabeth.”

         I shook my head vigorously.

         “Stop being so humble, bitch.” He laughed, and I just rolled my eyes at his remark. Like that was going to happen.

         I observed the surroundings as we go on a moderate speed. “Where are we going?”

         “School.”

         I was flustered at his response. School? What is going on his head? Did he fall and hit it, or something?

         “School? Are you fucking kidding me? The reason why I joined you in this ‘escapade’ of yours was to get out of that hell hole I was in earlier! And, now, we are going to school that reminds me the fucking---“

         My beautiful rant was interrupted with his hand on my mouth. I licked it.

         “Ew!” he exclaimed, causing me to grin cheekily at him. He looked at me with pure disgust. “Just shut up okay? We’re not at school to burn you with fire. Calm your tits.”

         And, I did.

         It took a couple of more minutes ‘til we reached our destination. The school looked like a haunted one; the dark enveloping the buildings accompanied by an eerie silence. It was a creepy sight.

         “Well, Mr. Escapade, we reached our first location. What are we going to do?”

         He faced me and held out his hand. “You’ll see it.”

         I guess in my own perspective and time, I stared at his palm for a thousand light years, thinking if I should take it or not. But, in normal time, I took it shortly and he led me inside.

         When we are in front of the door, he fished out a bunch of keys. I was impressed with what this asshole could do.

         “Don’t say a word.” He said while inserting the key.

         I raised my hands in defense. “I’m not saying anything.”

         The doors creaked open, echoing throughout the dark school halls, with only the moonlight illuminating.

         Percy, still his hand gripping mine, led me towards to a familiar pathway. We stopped in front of a door as he fished his set of keys and inserted into the keyhole. In that moment, I knew what we were going to do.

         “Our school’s music room. . . Really?” I said. He just responded with a smile.

         I sat on the chair by the piano, already feeling the rush of adrenaline through my veins. My fingers itched to dip the ivory keys as they glisten in the dark. In my peripheral vision, Percy was getting a guitar.

         Oh, boy.

         He sat beside me. I could smell his scent – the smell of unrequited feelings and Axe cologne. My heart thumped faster, and my mind was blowing all over the place. But, I contained it all; for the sake of friendship.

         He leaned his arm on the piano and faced me, along with his sly smirk. “Play for me.”

         I raised an eyebrow at him. “What do you want?”

         He looked above, appearing to be thinking, with his fingers rubbing his chin. And, faced me again.

         “A Drop in the Ocean.”

         I take in a deep breath as my fingers worked their way. But, he stopped me.

         “And, sing, please.”

         I looked at him with confusion. He smiled even brighter – this was his means of persuading me unto his desire. He even closed his eyes to look ‘cuter’. Which was fucking working, and I hate every bit of it.

         “Fine.” I groaned.

         I played the first chord. “A Drop in the Ocean.” Then, another. “A change in the weather, I was praying that you and me might,” I took a short breath, trying not to pour my emotions. “End up together.”

         “It’s like wishing for rain as I stand in the desert, and I’m holding you closer than most,” Control, you fool. Control. “’Cause you are my heaven.” Then, the short piano riff, accompanied by his playing of guitar resounded across the room.

         We continued the whole song. Just the two of us, with my life running on ivory keys and his on guitar strings.    

         “Wow,” he said. “That was nice. We should do a cover or something and be the next Us the Duo.”

         I laughed at his comment. It was unbelievable.

         “You wish,” I said. “As if I would record a video with an asshole.”

         He smirked. “You mean an asshole with devilishly good looks and amazing guitar skills?”

         I rolled my eyes.

         He took out the (probably) stolen keys from his pocket and said, “We move to our next destination.”

         Our next destination wasn’t inside a building or a forest where I could be murdered; it was the beach.

         I fucking love the beach. The sense of sand beneath your feet, the sounds of waves and the smell of the ocean breeze were enough to keep me sane in this insane world.

         I squealed like a little girl as I ran on the sand.

         After a couple of swear words from my dearest best friend, we settled sitting near the beach. He even brought a blanket for us to sit on. And, the night sky was full of stars, making my insides to fill with delight.

         I sighed at the beautiful view. “Stars are so pretty.”

         “But, you are a whole lot prettier,”

         I whipped my head to my right, where he was sitting next to me. “What?”

         He shook his head and muttered, “Nothing.”

         Did I hear it right? Have I gone deaf? Did I clean my ears this morning? Are my ears not functioning well?

         I ignored my train of thoughts, because this is giving me a bigger headache than our Carbon essay.

         I was suddenly reminded of our deal earlier. I looked at him, staring into his deep sea green eyes and said, “Where the fuck are my peanut butter sandwiches.”

         He laughed. “I thought you were going to say something else. . .” Percy reached the plastic bag behind him and threw it at me. “There you go. Ten sandwiches for your happy stomach.”

         I accepted it with pure satisfaction as I munched on my first sandwich happily.

         And, we just sat there. Silence embraced us. Well, with the sound of my chewing of sandwiches.

         “You know, Annabeth. . .” Percy trailed off, getting my attention. His eyes were focused on the sea, with the stars above us. “I like you.”

         I swear, I choked on my food. I stared at him, with flabbergast written all over my face as he gazed at me profoundly. Like he was seeing all the pores on my face.

         “What?” I questioned, still with food on my mouth.

         Percy sighed. “I know that you don’t like me that way, but I just wanted to confess it to you.”

         I blinked.

         What.

         The.

         Fuck?

         Am I dreaming? Is this a hallucination? Am I dead and this is my heaven?

         What.

         The.

         Fuck?

         “I. . .” was all I could muster. I gulped down the remaining food in my mouth and placed the remaining sandwiches down. He started talking again.

         “I know that we are best friends. I fucking know! But, I can’t stand seeing you with another guy. For fuck’s sake! You have no idea how beautiful you are while playing the piano, and you are even more gorgeous when you sing. No, scratch that, you are beautiful in everything you do! Even when you eat all those sandwiches in one take. I get all these feelings bottled up inside in me that I have no idea what to do. Whenever I look into your eyes, I get tongue-tied, thought it may not appear so. Damn it, your cute laugh is music to my ears and your obsession with stars and peanut butter – UGH! Plus, the way you rant over your Star Wars theory. I just want to stare into your eyes for a lifetime, and hold your hand. Annabeth, words can’t really tell what I’m feeling.”

         Did I really hear all of them right?

         “Am I deaf?” That was what I said next.

         Annabeth, you fucking idiot.

         “Annabeth,” he said, this time looking at me. “You may be a straight-A student, but you are so dumb when it comes to this.”

         I blinked again, and snapped.

         “Really? Really?!” I shouted, investing all my hidden feelings into what I am about say. “You have the fucking nerve to call me an idiot? Listen here, asshole. I fucking like you too! And, did you even notice, that? No! You are so enthralled in the thought that this would be reciprocated. Yes, my feelings weren’t noticeable, but it was your goddamn fault! You said you like Reese---“

         He disrupted. “Reese? That was just a joke!”

         “Whatever, dick! And you have no fucking idea how I sulked in the corner of room---“

         He disrupted me again. But, this time he disrupted me with his lips on mine.

         He tasted like a coffee and mint. Percy was all I could think at the moment. I wrapped my arms around his neck, closing the gap between us. The smell of axe was welcomed by my nose, itching to bring him even closer than we are. His hands rested on my waist, and I couldn’t tell how the dragons inside my stomach are. They are probably having a party.

         I pulled away, and placed our foreheads together. Both of us are out of breath, but that couldn’t hinder the smiles on our faces. His eyes sparkled, and his hair is messy, too.

         “Should we go to our next destination?” he asked, intertwining our fingers

         I nodded vigorously. “Yes.”

        When we got inside his car, he turned on his music. And, an Ed Sheeran song played again. This time, it was his favorite.

         “Five drinks in on Friday night, We only came to dry your eyes,” he sang. I was surprised by this.

         He never sings.

         And, of course, I joined him. Our voices off key, but that didn’t matter at the moment. I just want to be with him, with our hands intertwined.

         I checked the time, it was already 5 am. I looked at the sky; the sun is already breaking out. Goodbye, stars.

         Until the night turns into morning, You'll be in my arms.

         “Where’ our next destination, kind sir?” I asked, he chuckled and rubbed his thumb over my palm.

         “Nowhere.”

“And we'll just keep driving, along the boulevard.”

I didn’t complain and just smiled at him, in which he returned. Nothing could compare to this. An Ed Sheeran song playing in the background, his hand in mine, and a drive to a destination unknown.

And if I kissed you, darling, Please don't be alarmed.

“Aye,” he suddenly said. “You were damn alarmed when I kiss you.”

I rolled my eyes. “Shut the fuck up asshole.”

[morethanithoughtofficialblog]

Chapter 16: Bad intentions...?

In which Sans questions everything about you.

*Sans's POV*

Calm down, Sans.

You got this.

You...

Fuck.

My brother and (Y/N) were cooking in the kitchen while I was freaking out in the couch, thinking why I had a burst out when she told me she worked at science. It's not the first scientist I've met, so there was no reason to become THAT enthusiastic about it. Considering that she's probably a science nerd and that she has multiple problems I have as well, we may be pretty similar. Thing that scares me, needless to say. Besides, one day I heard her ringtone and it was Sweet Child O' Mine, which it's an incredible taste in music. I do like rock as well, so... this is freaking me out. A lot.

One of the reasons I'm probably feeling weird around her is the fact that she's someone new. I've known the monsters in the Underground all my life, no new relationships haven't been made since years. The kid, Frisk, turned out to be a fucking bitch, so we can't consider it as a relationship, even. Emily, well, she shared my passion for books, so that may be something. But (Y/N)? She's becoming closer and closer every time she comes here, which it's scary. I've never been good at making friends. Yes, I'm not afraid to talk to new people, but making friends? Oh, that's just letting my vulnerabilities show.

Even if (Y/N) knows I have depression and all that stuff, she doesn't know the reasons- that's the intimate part. I could even tell everyone in the world that I have these mental problems, but tell them the backstory of it? That's a huge step I'll never take with anyone. I mean, Papyrus doesn't know it, for God's sake! How can I risk myself more and more?!

More friendships mean more reasons to speak out loud, which it's what I don't want to do. The worst thing is that Frisk and Flowey know exactly why I have these things, that's why I can't show my problems to them. If they get to know I'm really traumatized of what they've done, they will torment me with that 'till the rest of my life...

Which reminds me- why she hasn't reset? Is she really thinking that we, finally, have the right to have a normal life out of the Underground? Nope, I don't think so. It's stupid to think she had a change of heart, less if Flowey can be inciting her into doing it again. Then why? Has she... Did she lose her power? The power to reset it all? To have the world in the tip of her fingers?

Wow, the laws of physics are just huge fuckers. I mean, they let the power of time and space to an irresponsible teenager, bored of having a normal life and trying to make it more interesting every time. Did they just realize it was a mistake? How funny.

I have suffered a lot, taking in consideration that two kids have power over me. No matter how much I train. No matter how old I get. They'll always have the power to change it all, in a way that their immature minds think it's correct. How stupid they can be? Do they think this is all a fucking videogame?! Just because they know they will come back from death...

They fear no man.

They fear nothing.

Just the fact that someone can take the power away from them.

But that's never gonna happen...

Or am I wrong?

A new timeline, new things to discover. And I must say that everything in this new world I've been dragged along is confusing to me. The thought that I won't necessarily live in Snowdin, that I can meet new faces, that I can finish a career...

That I can fall in love with a different face.

Is this even real?

How have I become so free in a matter of seconds?

Now I have the power to decide over my future, to run away, to breathe fresh air, feel the sun, and watch the stars. The real stars; the ones I always wanted to see as a kid. Thinking about it, Frisk had mercy this time. Or curiosity took over, who knows? This is the first 'Pacifist' timeline she has ever done, the ones before it were either neutral or... genocidal.

...

I'm afraid I can be wrong, though.

There's a thing called "True Reset"- a reset than only the... player of this goddamn videogame will remember. Not even I would remember anything about it... or the other timelines before it. There's a probability that Frisk has done it, but I still don't know...

The first timeline I remember was a neutral one, in which Frisk seemed scared. TRULY scared, like if she was going to collapse at any moment. It would make no sense that it wasn't her first time there- why would she fake kindness? At first, she was a good kid, I admit it. Now, she's not my friend anymore. Because she broke her promise- OUR promise, and give a shit about it. She knows why I hate her, and she just laughs it off.

sHe'S A bITCh.

She... she turned into a soulless being. Not literally, but morally. She gave up and decided to take her fucking rage and need for something new on us. Like if we were nothing. To her, we are probably just the characters of some cheap videogame: repetitive, boring, predictable, and insensible. But she's wrong- oh, she's so fucking wrong. We are not repetitive, we all have different stories to tell, our own problems, hopes, and dreams. We cry when we lose someone, we laugh when we hear a joke. We hate, we help, we can make other people's lives miserable, just as she did. We are able to do all of that, and more. Because there's a difference between her and us- and that's love. She may have LOVE, but we... we love...

We love other people, we love our families, and we help each other. Because we fucking care about everything.

Even Gaster.

Even me.

...

Are other humans different?

Is (Y/N) different?

Does she care? Does she help? Does she...

Does she love?

Or is she the new player of this game?

Is she the new person that will ruin my life?

Or the one that will improve it?

It's so confusing to me to realize that people can be different. Frisk... she's a human, I know, But does that mean that they are all the same? I truly don't think so. There are people so genuine, with no need to hide identities because they know it's no use. (Y/N) seems truly genuine...

She cares.

She helps.

And she loves.

She fights for her own hopes, dreams, and deals with her problems. She has a story to tell, that not all people will hear.

Frisk has that as well, but it's different.

Someone so blindly open-minded can't be bad. I need to convince myself to not question her anymore. To not question (Y/N) anymore.

She can be good.

She has been good so far.

I have nothing to object.

She's been nice to Papyrus, to my... parents, to Undyne, Alphys, Mettaton...

She's been nice to Frisk, even when she doesn't know all the fucking horrible things she has done.

She's been nice to Flowey, even though he usually acts as a picky bitch.

She's been all nice and supportive to me, even though she doesn't know. She doesn't know a fucking thing of what's going on, but there's the thing. If I had the courage enough to tell her right now, she would hear it. And not all people have that courage- to listen to others and help them out. To be a good friend.

Is...

How is this girl so lonely, again?

She deals daily with herself, a thing that breaks her a lot in the inside. No one is there to shut the hell up that little voice of her head. To tell her that she'll be okay if she gets help...

She doesn't even receive fucking help.

But...

Her enemy is the world around her? Or is her mind the true villain?

I checked the chat we both had some minutes before she arrived, and I sighed. Her life seems so... perfect on the outside. A smile in her face, a kind tone in her voice, a good career, a prodigy mind, and an easy way to make someone feel at ease. She, however, is never feeling at ease. that makes her imperfect, though? What does perfect even mean? To have a life full of roses? To have your job dream? To be happy no matter what?

I remembered that I, no matter how many times put Frisk as the bad of the story, am not perfect. I'm far from being a perfect person, I'm truly broken...

I'm a fucking mess that constantly bothers people. That hurts them, that breaks the promises with them, and that is really selfish. My mind thinks that I know the problems they have, but I don't. I don't know Frisk's past, I don't know Gaster's reasons to hate me, I don't know why Flowey changed his attitude so... suddenly. I...

I don't know (Y/N)'s story.

And she doesn't know mine.

Not even Papyrus know the half of it, and that's just... stupid.

He trusts me with his deeper struggles, his own dreams, and his wildest aspirations. Things that only I get to know because he trusts me. But...

Do I really want to ruin his innocence?

How would he react if he knew I watched him turn to dust...?

I... I feel really guilty about those timelines- Genocide runs. I had to wait until Frisk killed a lot of monsters to actually do something...

I'm weak. One hp, one of defense.

tHe eASIeSt eNEmY.

In order to gain power, I had to wait until my ability, "Karma", was activated. The more she killed, the more "Karma" I gain. And in the end, I was able to stop her only 'cause of the weight of her sins. "Karma" is like a counterattack, making the sinner pay for all they've done. Awfully, that characteristic is also pretty similar to the videogames' features.

I...

I wasn't this weak before. I was really strong and able to protect Papyrus before I lost all HOPE, which it's the equivalent of "HP". My defense dropped as well, making me more vulnerable than ever. That, however, happened before the kid fell down...

Gaster is a huge factor in my depression as well. He makes me think I'm worthless, doubtful and a disappointment. He treats me like that since years ago, and I totally hate it. He just keeps telling me that I never was there for anyone, but I'm sure that's not true. I care about Papyrus and, secretly, about the others as well. The only ones I don't care about are Frisk, Flowey, and him. But he thinks I'm all careless and I don't give a shit, when in fact, I'm one of the most worried in the group.

I went to my room and closed the door behind me, then flopped right onto my bed. I supervised the room with a glance and noticed how different it is from the one in the Underground. Now I have a proper bed, a bigger desk where a new laptop resides in, a functional lamp ('cause the one in the Underground wasn't), a smaller self-sustaining tornado and... it is a bit less messy. The color of the walls is dark blue (almost black) and the furniture is dark brown, as well as the floor. It is a nice change of scenario, I guess.  I tried to make it as different as possible from the one I had before because it only brings me bad memories. Papyrus helped in the major decoration, though- I need to thank him for that.

The similarity, though, is that I have a window above my bed... and that the balcony is really close to my room. In this house, the balcony is actually closer than in the previous one. I remember that, back in Snowdin, I used to get out in the balcony when everyone was asleep and write peacefully a new chapter for my story. It was such a nice feeling, a moment of calm before school had to begin and TVs started to emit Mettaton's shitty shows.

I laughed quietly, remembering my life before the kid came and depression hit me. It was... far from perfect, but it was better. I worked as a scientist apprentice and I learned a lot. My rank was one of the highest, only one below the Royal Scientist occupation... that my father used to have. I was considered one of the smartest; not only in there but in school as well. I had the highest of grades, even better than Alphys's, and my social life was never bad. I never got in trouble, the teachers respected me, and Papyrus was alright. Thanks to my job and other small ones, I was able to always pay for the house and our necessities...

Papyrus is like three weeks away from becoming a high schooler, and the thought terrifies me. He's so innocent, so... precious to me. I don't want a stupid teenager to ruin that. But... I'm also afraid that others might bully him, because, well... he's a monster. They might even hurt him, and if something ever happens to him, I will never forgive myself.

Never...

"SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAANNNNNNNNNNNNSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" My brother screamed at the top of his lungs... and believe me, you don't want to hear that.

I swear that I jumped some good feet above the ground and fell painfully out of my bed, scared and shocked at the same time. I think one of my ribs cracked, actually. The thing is, that it scared me and hurt me like a bitch, and I groaned loudly after trying to get up.

"papy, ah... wh-what's wrong?" I asked weakly, barely able to keep a balance in my words. My mind was considering shouting curses out loud, but I know that's not the best option.

"THE HUMAN AND I HAVE FINISHED OUR CREATION! IT IS A HOMEMADE RECIPE OF LASAGNA MADE BY (Y/N)!"

"It's actually on the family, Papyrus... I didn't create it"

"STILL! IT IS A RECIPE OF YOUR OWN HEART AND MEMORIES, AND IT MUST MEAN A LOT TO YOU! SO WE CAN CONSIDER YOU AS ONE ITS OWNERS!"

I caught my breath and got up slowly, then I checked my soul. It was as good as always: a white heart upside down, gleaming weakly but still gleaming. I sighed in relief and kinda contented, then I got out of my room, only to be granted by a heavenly smell. I smiled weakly, knowing that it was probably (Y/N)'s influence. I only had one question...

What the fuck is lasagna?

"SANS! PLEASE HELP US SET THE TABLE!" No fucking way, Paps.

"hello papy, how are you? any news lately?" I stupidly said, probably putting a goofy grin in my face.

"SANS, THAT'S THE WORST WAY YOU HAVE AVOIDED A TOPIC IN ALL YOUR LIFE! THAT'S JUST PITIFUL!"

And before I could give him another of my fantastic answers, I heard a loud crash coming from the kitchen.

"HUMAN? ARE YOU ALRIGHT?" Papyrus ran with clear panic in his voice, while I followed him with slow steps full of confusion.

"I'm fine, Papyrus... I think it's not me who you should worry about, though..."

And when I spotted what really happened, I broke out in laughter. An old man, formally known as my father, was laying on the ground after he unsuccessfully teleported into the house. (Y/N) was there in a defensive position and confused as heck. Papyrus tried to stop my laughter, but it didn't work. Who's the disappointment now, Gaster?

"wow, aren't you old?" I smiled widely, feeling mostly euphoric and incapable of reasoning.

"Shut up, Sans"

After a bit of argument and a groaning Papyrus, we finally thought it would be a good idea to start eating. Or well, I did. I was extremely hungry. And the smell wasn't helping either. Besides, why would I want to keep discussing with that annoying man?

We sat and eat then and, as expected, it was amazing. That's what I expected at least. Even (Y/N) seem a little dumbfounded by her own creation, that was probably a familiar recipe.

"is your family from italy or what?" I asked jokingly, and she let out a small and lighthearted laugh.

"Nah, my father just used to like cooking a lot. This a way too old recipe... I think he established it when I was just born"

"really? heh, it's good. was your father a-"

"He just cooked as a hobby, nothing serious. Still, I always liked his homemade food"

Huh.

"and you? do you cook as well or..."

"Nope, I'm too busy for that... and maybe a bit lazy" She laughed quietly, then continued "I tend to only eat fast food during lunch breaks or at nights, nothing more"

I chuckled at the realization that I've done that so many times as well. Mostly not because I'm working, but because I'm ungodly lazy. I remembered all those times I ran away from Papyrus's cooking and head to Grillby's, which was like my second home. Me being a comedian, the bar was an excellent place to make top-quality jokes and friends of the same ranking.

After eating, (Y/N) had to leave, and we had as well. Papyrus never forgot that I had an appointment with a psychologist, and she couldn't stay any longer if she wanted to return at a proper hour. I know she takes the subway, which according to my calculations, is way more annoying and risky than being in a car.

"HUMAN! WE SHALL BE HEADING OFF!"

"Hope it goes well"

"luck at your new job, kiddo"

"Thanks! The best of lucks in your session, Sans. It won't be easy, but you'll eventually get used to it"

"i hope so"

I really do.