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twistedtranslations · 4 years

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Trey Clover - If you started to enjoy it

You can unlock this story by getting Trey’s SSR Dorm Uniform

Translation under the cut

Heartslabyul Dorm - Rose Maze

Ace: Isn't it unproductive to take care of the lawn? Those weeds’ll grow back in no time even if you properly pull ‘em out.

Deuce: Sometimes I really resonate with you, Ace. I feel like we’re stuck doing this forever with no end in sight.

Trey: Come on guys, don't slack and keep at it. A perfect lawn is essential for the "Unbirthday party".

Cater: If the garden looks unseemly, I can't take a pretty picture. After the weeding, the pruning awaits you! Fight on!

Ace: Huh, why do only the first years have to…

Trey: The only thing the first years are in charge of is the rare croquet game. The second and third years have other serious jobs to do. Everyone helps to prepare the party. That is what the law of the Queen of Hearts states. By doing our best to cooperate for the preparation, we can develop a better sense of unity… Don't you think that's surprisingly suitable for us?

Ace: ... I feel like everyone’s only cooperating because they fear the dorm leader will have their heads.

Deuce: Then what are you guys in charge of?

Cater: I'm preparing the venue~ Please look forward to an exciting arrangement!

Trey: I'm making the cake. An "Unbirthday party" is not complete without a cake after all.

Ace: Yay! We're getting your super delicious cakes! What kind of cake are you baking this time?

Trey: What kind of cake?… Hm, it's something I can't explain so easily. The definition of an "Unbirthday party" is a party with no birthday. There's no cake really fitting for that.

Ace: I think that depends on the sense and ideas of the creator… Ah. Doesn't that mean that the cake itself can be any kind? But melon tarts are a no go.

Trey: Huh? Ah, I understand. According to the laws of the Queen of Hearts… "The cake should have a candle" and "Melon tarts are prohibited" are the only rules…

Ace: Okay, then why don't we go for a cherry pie base instead of the usual cake! The sweet sourness is great and the crunchy pie dough makes for a perfect texture! … I like it better than anything else.

Deuce: Ace, don't trouble Clover by saying shoving your requests in. Furthermore… A chiffon cake made with lots of eggs is better than a cherry pie. The humble sweetness makes it digestible for everyone.

Ace: Now you're just making requests for the thing you want to eat!

Deuce: I-I'm not. I'm thinking about the entire dorm…

Heartslabyul Student A: What, are we requesting cakes? I want a chocolate cake!

Heartslabyul Student B: I'd like a cheese cake!

Heartslabyul Student C: A cake doesn't have to be limited to sweetness. Trey, why don't you try something like quiche?

*muttering*

Trey: There, there, guys. I never said I was taking requests from anyone! And in the first place, I'd have to prepare the ingredients. Immediate changes are hard, you know.

Ace: With your skills you'd be able to manage it~

Cater: I understand why you guys are pleading with our genius patissier~ But don’t you think you’re putting him on the spot by pestering him?

Heartslabyul Student A: But no matter how delicious a cake is, eating the same thing repeatedly will make you tired of it.

Ace: Ah, right? Fresh flavors are also important… I’m fed up with it, I want to eat something different every time.

Trey:… I see. Then why don't you guys try making the cakes yourselves? That way, you can eat your favorite cake. Our college endorses the study of cooking with the elective subject "MasterChef".

Deuce: Now that you say it, "MasterChef" is a practical class, right?

Trey: Yes. It's a traditional program from the past to teach students how to cook for themselves after graduation. It's not a mandatory subject, so few students take it, but it's very informative if you want to learn the basics.

Heartslabyul Student A: Hm… then we should try it. You can make it look so easy.

Heartslabyul Student C: It seems much more fun and easy than maintaining this plain law!

Trey: There's always a shortage of helping hands for making sweets, so if you started enjoying cooking because of that, you'd really help me out. Then I shall hand my kitchen utensils over and you guys can be in charge of the cakes.

Deuce:… Ace, you should apologize for that just now. For the whole being tired of his cakes and there not being new flavors…

Ace: You should too. Trey was simply too kind and didn’t get angry.

Deuce: Yeah… Even so? It's true that Trey is an adult, after all. It's rare for there to be helpful and nice people amongst the student body of this college… If I was being told that the job I had to do was "Easy, ", I would get pissed off.

Ace: If you got pissed that easily, you wouldn't be able to take care of our impatient dorm leader.

Cater: You're right. I haven't seen Trey get angry much~… Well, if you do make him angry, he drags it on for a fairly long time.

Chapter 2

Heartslabyul Dorm

Riddle: Unbelievable. Who was slacking for things to end up like this? No one has pruned the lawn, the colors of the roses are inconsistent and the tableware has not been polished! We won't be able to make it for tomorrow's "Unbirthday party"!

Trey: Calm down Riddle. Why don't we try to finish the party with no beheadings?

Riddle: Urgh…

Trey: There's no one who can do everything perfectly from the start. As for the first years, how about I teach them some magic that can help them prune the lawn more efficiently? If we finish everything carefully, one by one, we might make it in time for the party?

Riddle:… You are right. I understand. Thank you Trey.

Trey: Okay. I shall check the roses that still have to be painted… but before that, I'll check up on the kids in the kitchen, just in case.

Heartslabyul Dorm - Kitchen

Heartslabyul Student A: I'm making a chocolate cake but the chocolate won't melt. I'm putting all the chocolate bars in the oven!

Heartslabyul Student B: Weren't we making a cheesecake? I'm pretty fussy about cheese. Let's try making some with magic from milk.

Heartslabyul Student C: Didn't I say it was going to be quiche? By the way, does anyone know how to handle this fish…?

Trey: How lively. I see, do your best.

Cater: Ah, Trey. Dif you feel like watching over the first years who are encouraging each other to make cakes?

Trey: Kind of. Is the construction of the venue you're in charge of finished?

Cater: *sigh*… I'm really doing my best… I've been getting more nervous the more the "Unbirthday party" nears and lately Riddle has been in a super foul mood~ If we make one more mistake he might explode.

Trey: He hasn't exploded yet, so you can just proceed, right? That guy is also doing his best.

Cater: And there you go. You're coddling him! You guys have that kind of relationship because you've been together since childhood, right? I don't have childhood friends so I don't really understand, but don't you tire of it?

Trey: Actually, back in the days, he really didn't carry that angry image with him. He might feel responsible now because he is the dorm leader.

Cater: Huh, really? But the rumors say that he inherited it from his tiger mom?

Trey: Hehehe. They say that, but Riddle's mother wasn't really like that. When it was revealed that Riddle came over to play, she marched into my home, looking ten times more threatening than Riddle, and lectured our family for five hours.

Cater: Scary… you really shouldn't laugh that much, Trey!

Trey: Thinking about it now, I can make fun of it. That someone can get so angry about a child playing. But now that you say it, it was really scary at that time. I totally didn't understand why she was angry…

Trey: I was really worried whether or not I was guilty of doing something terrible. When I asked Che'nya, he merely said "I don't know nya~", so I had no one to talk it over with. And I think she got way more angry at Riddle than I, so I felt really guilty.

Cater: Heh. You were pretty serious since you were small huh… Are you the anxious type?

Trey: I think anyone who met that mother would be. In any case, once you made her angry, she was untouchable. If you think about that, I'm just grateful that sweets seem to cheer Riddle up.

Cater: About that! I totally understand why your tarts cheered Riddle up earlier. Honestly, your cakes deserve the graces of god. How many times have they saved me in this year…

Trey: Flattery doesn't work on me. Besides, this time, it seems I wasn't up to the task and had to relinquish my position.

Cater: Hahaha… Yeah. At least I didn't imagine he was angry.

Trey: Did you say anything?

Cater: Nothing~

Heartslabyul Dorm - Tea Garden

The day of the unbirthday party

Ace: S-Somehow… I captured all the hedgehogs that ran away in time for the party…

Deuce: The flamingos are perfectly on stand by. With this, the perfect party can start.

Trey: Thank you, you two. It seems you had a lot of trouble preparing.

Riddle: At one point I even thought about what would happen to this party… but it seems that despite all the "Unbirthday party" can start.

Cater: Riddle seems satisfied. It seems like no one will get beheaded today~

Riddle: Oho? I do not see the cake anywhere. Where is it?

Heartslabyul Student A: Uhm… It's…

Riddle: The "Unbirthday party" cannot start unless there's cake. Hurry and fetch it!

Heartslabyul Student B: U-Understood.

Ace: Hm? Don't you think those guys who made the cake look a bit pale?

Trey: …

Chapter 3

Riddle: The "Unbirthday party" cannot start unless there's cake. Hurry and fetch it!

Heartslabyul Student B: W-We brought it.

Heartslabyul Student A: We made this with our utmost effort… A special cake made by the first years.

Everyone: ?!

Deuce: Cough, cough, what's that stench! It smells sugary and smoky and of meat and fish… The acid and spice are hurting my eyes!

Cater: The green syrup, the blue cream and the shocking pink decorations… It's more art than a cake. I could upload it to Magicam with the tag #DestructionandCreation.

Ace: Hey, didn't it move? That cake definitely moved just now? Are you sure it's edible?!

Trey: You really did it. You guys made another intense cake. Just how did you make it like this?

Heartslabyul Student A: Ah, it's not my fault. It's his!

Heartslabyul Student B: Y-You're wrong! It's you who… No, wait? Isn't it Ace who said from the start that he wanted to eat something different? Didn’t he start it?

Ace: Maybe I said that, but you guys made it? I have no hands in this!

Heartslabyul Student C: Then it's Deuce's fault who said that chiffon cake would be nice and started a quarrel.

Deuce: D-Don't involve me! You made your own mess and you can clean it up yourselves!

*fussing*

Riddle: …

Cater: Uhm, Riddle? Let's stay amiable, 'kay?

Riddle: You guys!

Everyone: Argh!

Cater: S-Shit. We did our best, but Riddle is going to explode…!

Riddle: To think you dared to make such a messy cake for the dignified "Unbirthday party"… I hope you are all prepared?!

Ace: Aah! Why us as well!?

Deuce: Dorm leader Rosehearts, please calm down! If we apologize, will you accept…!

Riddle: Do not bother with excuses!!! Off with…!

???: Stop!

Deuce: Huh, that voice is…

Trey: Calm down Riddle.

Ace: T-Trey!

Riddle: What's this Trey, release my arms. I cannot chastise the first years who made a mess of the "Unbirthday party" like this!

Trey: … It is true that this cake does not seem edible by its appearance. It's not appetizing, and the smell is awful. It's laughable.… But wouldn’t you say that a cake made by the combined ideas of the first years is very Heartslabyul-like? With that said, isn’t it quite wonderful?

Riddle: I do not think so in the least!

Cater: Right~

Riddle: Furthermore, there is no candle on this cake. They did not obey the laws of the Queen of Hearts! Why did you not make the cake as you usually do? If you did it normally, something like this would not have…

Trey: I understand, I understand. You don't have to be that upset. Isn't this your long awaited "Unbirthday party". It's fine. I put some cakes aside that I make every time for the "Unbirthday party".

Everyone: Huh?!

Trey: The "Unbirthday party" is Heartslabyul's most important day. It's not like I had any intention to slack?

Riddle:… Then you should have told us earlier. I would have reflexively beheaded the dorm students. The "Unbirthday party" can continue without problems. You guys, thank Trey for that.

Heartslabyul Student B: W-We're saved!

Cater: As expected of you, Trey! Okay, everything is ready. Let's start the "Unbirthday party"!

Trey: Indeed, let's start.… Congratulations on the "Unbirthday party"!

Everyone: Congratulations!

Ace: T-Trey… No, Master Trey! You saved us!

Deuce: I really thought I was going to be beheaded. Thank you for persuading our dorm leader!

Cater: As expected of you, Trey! Just when did you make the other cake?

Trey: Yesterday evening, secretly, when everyone was asleep. I had a bad feeling, so I made it just in case.

Ace: Your cakes always look so delicious~ Just by looking I can feel my belly growl.

Deuce: Aah, I really want to eat it as soon as possible.

Trey: But weren't you two tired of these kinds of cakes?

Deuce/Ace: Huh?

Trey: It seems you guys were tired of eating the same thing every time and wanted some new flavors, so don't worry, me and Riddle will eat this one.

Cater: The first years telling you they were fed up with it really pissed you off, didn’t they?

Ace: T-Trey, please don't be so mean. That was just a slip of the tongue…

Deuce: Indeed! We think your cakes are the best. Right, everyone?

Heartslabyul Students: Yes! We want to eat your cakes!

Trey: … Then you guys understand, right? That making sweets isn't something you can do haphazardly. You have to consider all the risks, make plans beforehand and adapt yourself to the situation at hand… If you can do all that, it can become a routine. You don't have the comfort to make these things at peace.

Ace: Uhm… just to verify, but we're still talking about making sweets, right? Because it sounds an awful lot like you're talking about the dorm leader…

Trey: In any case. Do you now understand my hardships?

Deuce/Ace: Yeah…

Trey: Okay, I'm glad you're honest.

Deuce: We learned a lot.… Thank you for existing, Trey's cakes.

Heartslabyul Students: Bon appétit~…

Trey: Wait.

Deuce/Ace: Huh?

Trey: What do you guys intend to do with the cake you made? You shouldn't waste food. If you're not going to eat it, I won't let you eat the cake I made especially for the "Unbirthday party".

Deuce: W-We have to eat this shitty cake?! We already repented, but it seems just words aren't enough…

Ace: Where has our mature and kind Trey gone…

Cater: The gentler a person usually is, the scarier they'll be when they're angry! Treat this as an opportunity to learn.

#twisted wonderland #trey clover #riddle rosehearts #cater diamond #deuce spade #ace trappola #personal story #translation

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fmdminhee · 3 years

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task. #famedrstask1.

notes: word counts are included with each individual answer! completed for +5 tracker points.

assuming your muse has changed in some way, be it internally or as a result of a change of the external factors around them, how is your muse different? these can be as small as an opinion on a song they hadn’t released previously or as big as a major change in their background. word count: 261.

minhee’s childhood prior to becoming a trainee is pretty much the exact same as before the restructuring. dance prodigy says fuck u crazy dance mom, i’m not gonna be maddie ziegler, and ends up becoming an idol. she started training a year earlier than before though, so she had a slightly longer training process! i think the most obvious change to everyone else is her faceclaim, which is now lee hyeri. buuuut if you take a look at her pages or app or anything else, you’ll see that she’s now a main dancer, lead vocal & rapper, rather than being a main dancer, lead rapper & vocal! this was sort of a selfish change on my part, because i wanted to open her up to some opportunities for solo work that wouldn’t have suited her before because of her position, but that would’ve fitted more along the lines of what i initially imagined for her image than the options actually available to her. she’s also been a lot happier for a lot longer, because instead of debuting with a concept she hated, minhee got to debut in ... an age appropriate group! if you look here, you can see some examples of what i thought of when thinking of minhee’s ideal group and ... yeah, lily lines up with that pretty well. not perfectly, but pretty well. she’s still dealing with her issues surrounding her family, her sexuality and her fear of aging, but for the most part, minhee’s a lot more settled, or even satisfied, in terms of her career.

what does your muse think of their company and their group? word count: 255.

let’s start with lily, minhee’s beloved. she loves her members, she loves the overwhelming majority of their songs, and she’s proud as hell of the legacy they’ve built up for themselves so far. to be honest, sometimes she it just hits her that oh shit, she’s minnie from lily! and oh shit, they’re basically the biggest girl group ever. no one tell her that candy inherited nation’s girl group or that ultraviolet are taking over the world, let her be dumb. no, but genuinely, she can’t believe the scale of what they’ve achieved sometimes. she doesn’t totally feel like she deserves all the love she gets. then there’s the company behind it all; bc entertainment. she wonders all the time if her mother would’ve went along with everything if it was any other company that minhee came home with a callback from. probably not. for that alone, she’s thankful. she sort of dislikes being portrayed as perfect and untouchable -- more silly and down to earth than a lot of her peers under the company, but still. it’s just part and parcel of bc’s status. the reason it gets to her is that she’s very much not that perfect girl next door that the company wants her to be, and she puts a lot of pressure on herself to live up to it. as such, minhee probably doesn’t take advantage of all of the resources being under bc allows her access to as much as she should, choosing instead to just grin and bear it.

is your muse on their first contract or their second? if they’ve renewed, what were their feelings around that at the time and what were their hopes for their second contract? if they haven’t renewed, what are their current thoughts on the end of their eventual first contract? word count: 260.

minhee is on her second contract. she renewed with bc in 2019 for a further seven years, which doesn’t feel like that long of a time. seven years seemed like a liftetime when she signed her debut contract in 2012, but it went by pretty fast for her. finding out what the rest of her members were doing was the most important thing for minhee when choosing whether or not to renew. with lily’s status in the industry, the money she made over the previous years, and the wealth belonging to her family, she felt confident that she’d be okay no matter what happened. a safety net. but her preference was always going to be to continue with the rest of lily if possible. she wouldn’t have forced the issue if the others didn’t want to though ... at least not on purpose. knowing minhee, she probably would’ve been crying all over the place and ended up messing with everyone’s plans like that. maybe she would’ve put out an ad like, “nation’s girl group in search of new agency. must be willing to take in four fully grown women and meet all of their demands.” as for the terms in her second contract, minhee was looking for some more royalties and some reassurance that lily would continue to receive the levels of resources and investment that they were already receiving from the company, as well as more opportunities for her to grow as a soloist. she didn’t want them falling by the wayside. she’s too young to be washed up!

what are your muse’s goals and motivations? word count: 259.

in terms of her career, minhee actually has some pretty lofty ambitions. her top two focuses are solo music and modeling, and they’re basically split an even 50/50. she wants to continue releasing upbeat solo songs, but as for the music itself, aside from some dabbling in lyrics, she’s happy to leave it to the professionals. her primary interest, aside from the obvious performance and promotion aspects, lies in developing her own choreography. for her own songs firstly, but also for lily’s songs, and maybe even others within the company. outside of bc remains to be seen. she’s been really inspired over the years by a lot of the dancers and choreographers that she’s worked with, even from before entering bc, and she’d like to inspire someone else some day too! and modeling ... i can’t lie, minhee just likes looking pretty and getting free stuff, so she’d like to do some more of that.

as for her personal life ... messy as hell! she still really wants to find love but still only goes looking for it with fuckboys. she wants to get closer with her dad and her extended family, but is finding it difficult to pull off while also keeping her mother at arm’s length. she also can’t help antagonising her mother because she’s a dumb brat. i don’t think minhee realises it yet, but she’s slowly coming to a place of self acceptance too. when she does realise it, i think that’s something that will really motivate her to be the best she can be.

what is one conflict, internal or external, that your muse is currently dealing with, has recently dealt with, or will need to deal with in the future? word count: 262.

i’ve talked in depth about minhee’s conflict over her sexuality here, which all still holds true, but i want to take this opportunity to talk about something else very close to my heart concerning minhee that i’ve mentioned once or twice in passing but never explicitly. minhee is autistic. she just doesn’t know it yet. some fun mun trivia is that i’m autistic! but, as is typical for a lot of afab people, i was basically an adult by the time it was diagnosed. you might say, hey sucy, stop projecting on your muses, but i say no! write what you know and all that. it’s kind of ironic though, because not even i realised minhee could very well be autistic until i’d written her for two years, and deciding took me another. and now she has to go through the diagnostic process again in character, smh me. anyways, yeah, minhee is probably going to have it suggested to her pretty soon while seeking some help for her anxiety about aging, and after that she’s gonna have to recontextualise her whole life because it’s truly like a lightbulb moment for a lot of people, myself included. suddenly everything that was weird to you growing up makes sense. it’s kind of a lot to wrap your head around, and would be for anyone, so writing about that for minhee is going to be interesting. i mentioned above that she’s been kind of moving towards self acceptance anyways, and i think this will be a very big turning point for her on that journey.

if your muse has established career claims, what are their thoughts on their career so far? if they do not, how do they feel about not having individual activities yet? what would they like to do in the future, if anything? if they don’t have ambitions for individual activities, explain why. word count: 277.

she does! her individual activities consist of modeling jobs and a couple of variety show cast positions, because i felt that these were the avenues she would’ve been pushed down up until more recently in her career, when her interest in choreographing for herself would’ve really taken off. minhee has really enjoyed her career so far. she feels settled within the entertainment industry, and that type of security is so sexy to her. the less chance that her mother can say i told you so the better.it’s kind of a big difference for her in terms of character actually, but this incarnation of minhee likes being on variety shows! she’s actually confident appearing on them! this is because of the difference in concept between lily and lipstick. lipstick’s minnie’s confidence took a long time to build up. lily’s minnie’s didn’t. she’d like to be on more variety shows in the future, especially something competition based, like dancing with the stars ... or masterchef, for a laugh, because she’d be the first person eliminated. and then, there’s the modeling. as mentioned a couple of questions ago, it’s something she wants to focus pretty tightly on going forward. her favourite brand that she’s been the ambassador for so far is crocs. she loves her crocs. she has, like, five different colours. crocs, please sign minhee again. working with etude house and kloud was pretty cool too though. sometimes she’s still able to swing free beers when she goes out. so, going forward, she wants to continue with those types of gigs, as well as pursuing more solo music and developing her skills as a choreographer, like i mentioned earlier!

#famedrstask1 #yes i did this instead of getting dowoon's intro ready!!! but ... now i'll go do that please love my silly middle child's changelog!!#yep . minhee's now the middle child of my kids that's crazy

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elisela · 4 years

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in every universe, you’re mine buck x eddie, vermont verse, ~800 for @extasiswings, just because

Buck likes to ask questions.

A lot of questions.

It’s never bothered Eddie, and he’s happy enough to go along with it, ranking his top ten favorite types of pie in order (which had ended in a pie-tasting after he insisted that cherry should take the top spot and Buck had argued heartily in favor of apple), carefully plotting out the route they would take if there was ever a zombie apocalypse, and spending thirty-four minutes trying to remember the name of the corner store by his parents house when he was growing up before giving in and calling Sophia.

So it’s no surprise when they’re curled up on the couch together watching MasterChef Junior and Buck smoothes his hand through Eddie’s hair and asks, “if you didn’t move to Vermont, do you think we would have met?”

“Yes,” Eddie says, because he knows his husband and what he wants to hear, even though he thinks the answer is probably no.

“Eddie.”

“No?” he tries. “I don’t know, Buck, I think a lot had to happen for us to meet and that’s—that’s why it’s special, you know?”

“You old romantic,” Buck says, and then draws in a breath through his teeth at the same time Eddie cringes, eyes focused on the television. “Ooh, raw chicken, that’s too—oh no, don’t cry, don’t cry sweetheart—oh.”

Eddie pats his thigh before turning his head and kissing Buck’s jaw. He’s slouched too low to reach much more of him, but Buck tilts his head down and kisses him properly, smiling against his mouth. “You know, we almost moved to L.A.,” he says when they part. “So it could have happened.”

“Yeah,” Buck says, humming. “Could have.”

——-

Eddie’s exhausted. As much as he loves abuela, relocating to Los Angeles had been a mistake. His parents appear for weeks at a time, invading his space and his life, giving him unwanted advice and continuing to criticize every little thing he does.

So he runs.

Literally.

“Thanks for watching Chris,” he says, but his mom hardly hears him as he’s on his way out the door, sneakers pounding on the pavement. He’s dripping in sweat by the time he reaches Rocco’s, a rundown bar a few miles away, and he’d still like to kill several hours before going back home, so he mops the sweat off his head with the hem of his shirt and pulls the door open.

The blast of cool air hits him like a truck, kicking up goosebumps on his arms and legs as he sighs in contentment. There’s a total of three patrons in the bar, all clustered around a television playing a preseason football game, so Eddie heads to the bar and pulls out a stool in front of the only TV showing the Rangers game.

“Be with you in a minute!” someone yells from the kitchen. He flips a coaster left on the bar top in his hands and looks up when the bartender materializes in front of him. He opens his mouth to order but the words die in this throat because holy shit—

——

“That is not what would have happened,” Eddie says, digging his elbow into Buck’s side. “Speechless just from looking at you, I don’t think so—”

“Diaz,” Buck blurts out. “Edmundo, uh—Eddie. Eddie Diaz.”

“Shut up,” Eddie hisses. “I was expecting some grumpy old contractor, not a 6’3 wall of muscle, sorry if I was off my game. It would have gone totally different.”

——

Buck’s no stranger to the beach. Every city he’s lived in during his adult life has had a beach; he seeks them out. Leo Carrillo Beach is one of his favorites, small enough to lay around, still plenty of people to flirt with when he gets bored.

And there is definitely someone worth flirting with today. Tall, dark, and handsome, Buck thinks—

—-

“I’m offended,” Buck interrupts. “Is that what you think? I’d see you and fall at your feet?”

“Isn’t that what kind of happened?” Eddie asks, raising an eyebrow and knocking Buck’s fingers away when they dig into his side.

“I fell to Christopher’s feet and you know it,” Buck says. “The kid’s a riot, Eddie, it’s not your fault he’s more likeable.”

Eddie laughs and leans up for another kiss. “That’s true, you were pretty good with Chris. You know, he’d have a different story if we asked him.”

“Probably,” Buck acknowledges. “We should ask him in the morning. I bet we’d be firefighters or something, he’s pretty obsessed with them lately.”

Eddie hums in agreement. “Well,” he says, leaning his head back against Buck’s shoulder, “none of that matters. I’m pretty happy right here.”

#eli writes #idk what this is #it just #happened #for chapel because i love her #vermont verse #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911fic

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sasmeo-bisaster · 4 years

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Here it comes a masterchef jr au I had the idea for months ago and kinda abandoned

-Logan is literally Gordon Ramsay 2.0, harsh with adults that put others in danger with their tomfoolery and more understanding with adults that make errors while learning but he has never judged kids cause this is his first time as a judge for masterchef jr

- he us taking the actual Gordon Ramsay place cause he is busy with something so he can't be there enough to be a judge but he will come from time to time cause he just really love watching kids being better cooks than adults

- Logan and Gordon are friends, they have bonded on ridiculous situation they ended up while filming kitchen nightmares together and creative insults

- back to Logan, he is pretty anxious to deal with this bunch of kids cause they are so small and if he ends up insulting one of them harshly for making a big error he would never forgive himself (and Gordon would've whacked him with the rolling pin but he doesn't know that)

- I forgot to say that he is british and will come in one episode dressed like Sherlock Holmes

- to help him judge there's emile, the winner of the last season, an afro-american 17 years old with hair constantly died pink cause he loves the color a lot, he has won making african plates taught to him by both his father and grandmother

- to confuse and surprise everyone, in the first episode he hides between the participants and only after when Logan is searching for him goes to join him

- Logan is unimpressed "here you are", emile now has the objective of surprise him, the participants are all freaking out

- within the participants we have the roman and remus, as always twins, that took the first chance to be against each other right when they saw it

- they have italian origins, roman is the one that tends more to stick to tradition and follow the old recipes while getting creative on presentation, remus is the one that messes a bit around with the recipe and makes plates that hardly resemble what they are supposed to be but still are delicious

- Janus is from south korea and is an master in korean sweets and is also being pretty talented in korean plates

- has a scar on his face for an accident with cooking oil and for this the twins call him zuko, janus is secretly pleased but he can't show that now can he?

- remy is a japanese pal that uses they/them, will make you the best sushi you have ever tasted

- they are sassy and no one is safe from their sass not even Logan (he tells them to write their most creative sass cause he finds it pretty funny)

- they and janus talk to each other sometimes in korean, other in japanese to mess around a bit with the other kids, they end up teaching some words and part of the basics of both languages cause they are surprised to find lots of the participants (and Logan) are actually very interested in learning

-and now here comes Patton or I guess Patty?, a blind american girl, she has a service dog to help her move around, Logan is kinda worried at the beginning but is able to see that after she gets used to her working place she is completely capable of doing anything, he still reminds from time to time to the other participants to not move around her things so it doesn't messes up her mental map

-in the participants we also have joan, talyn and lots of thomas friends but I still didn't think a lot on how they would be and I have gotten a bit lazy I admit

-I still don't have any idea on how the story will go on but emile will try to make all the kids win cause he can't deal with the idea of making win just one

- Logan keeps him in check but secretly feels the same and asks Gordon how he did it like all those kids are so talented how can I do that

And that's all hope it inspires someone

If you do something related to this please tag me cause I'd love to see it

Also thanks to @mylifeisadeceit that they have helped me to give life to this idea

One last thing if I have in someway disrespected any of the ethnicities that I put in this au please tell me so I won't make it happen again

#long post #sanders sides #ts #ts au #au #prompt #ts prompt #masterchef jr #gordon ramsay #sanders cinematic universe #logan sanders #emile picani #roman sanders #remus sanders #remy sanders #janus sanders #patton sanders

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keelywolfe · 4 years

Text

Drabble: Ordinary Days (baon)

Summary: Just an ordinary day

Tags: Spicyhoney, Established Relationship, Domestic Fluff

Part of the ‘by any other name’ series.

~~*~~

Read it on AO3

Read it here!

~~*~~

There wasn’t anything special about the day. Nothing that stood out as remarkable, nothing Stretch could put a finger on later and say, yep, this was it. This was what set my husband off on a journey of profound introspection.

Nope, it was just a normal day. Stretch woke up to the rich smell of coffee already brewing, following his non-existent nose down the stairs to the kitchen where Edge was making French toast. He was sitting at the stove on one of the high bar stools to keep from spending too long on his leg like a good boy and he looked up when Stretch sauntered in, offering him a faint smile. Stretch sat with him on the other stool since they hadn’t gotten a new dining table set yet and they talked about nothing much over the sizzle of egg-soaked bread turning golden brown in a hot pan.

They washed the dishes together after, Edge scrubbing and Stretch drying, then they went their separate ways for a while. Stretch downstairs to work on a couple of his experiments, scribbling furious notes as he checked different reactions, absently smiling at Edge whenever he passed by on his way to and from the laundry room, a basket in his hands in either direction.

Lunchtime came and again, they ate together, rice bowls with black beans and green goddess salad dressing and Stretch made a joke about all of Edge’s cooking being food for the gods. More dishes, more time apart. A dinner made of repurposed leftovers since Edge was incapable of letting anything go to waste and it didn’t matter because it was delicious, anyway. After dinner, Edge loaded the dishwasher and since the weather was nice, they took a nice, easy walk, one of Edge’s hands on his cane and his other in Stretch’s, gloved fingers gently clasping his own. Kids were playing in the last sunshine of the day, their shouts and laughter tinting the air and when Stretch started humming absently, the theme to some old James Bond movie, Edge started humming too, his gravelly voice hesitant and only loud enough for Stretch to hear and his soul was so full of love he thought it would explode like an overstuffed pinata, all hearts and candy and happiness.

That night, they sat together on the sofa, well, Stretch sprawled and Edge sat, his phone on one knee and Stretch’s head on the other. His hands alternated between scrolling through emails and gently petting the rounded curve of Stretch’s skull, the softness of his gloves against smooth bone as they watched the latest round of Masterchef.

When they went to bed, they slide between the freshly washed sheets together and as they made love, Stretch breathed in the scent of laundry detergent and sex and Edge. They curled up together afterward, sweat-damp and sated, Stretch snuggling in with his head on Edge’s sternum, listening to the slowing pulse of his husband’s soul.

Fingertips wandered over Stretch’s cervical vertebra and he could feel the rumble of Edge’s voice as he said, “This isn’t what I dreamed of when I was a child, this life.”

“no?” Drowsiness was trying to pull Stretch down with sleep-drenched fingers, but something in Edge’s tone made him resist.

“No.” Softly, a confession, “My dreams were always grand when I was young. I would be in the Royal Guard. I would capture a Human and save us all. As a child, I dreamed of being a hero. I never once pictured keeping house on the surface with someone like you, working at a desk in an office with Monsters and Humans.”

“not even once?” It was mostly teasing, partly curious, and maybe a pinch of hurt sprinkled on top.

The hand on his back slipped up to cup his skull, stroking in something like gentle reassurance, “No. I think perhaps I never understood happiness, then, or all the things that I thought would bring it. I thought that great deeds would bring me happiness. It was foolish, really. Childish whims."

Geez, that was a little harsh considering that Edge didn’t exactly grow up in a place where all great dreams came true. Stretch tried to squirm out of his arms to look Edge right in the face when he told him so, but Edge refused to let him go and, damn, it was irritating that anyone could hold on so gently but still like steel bands. His baby was so metal, (heh) but that one Stretch kept to himself. Eventually, Stretch gave up, settling back grudgingly into Edge's embrace. Tempting as it was to say Edge was always his hero, that was a little too obvious and trite, too easy to scoff away. "it wasn't foolish, babe, you were only a kid. you didn’t even know what other options were out there, yet."

“And now I am an adult and I know better." Edge laid his cheek bone against the top of Stretch's skull, inhaling deeply, then let out with a sigh, "You make me happy."

The sudden swell of near tears in Stretch’s throat refused to be swallowed away. He managed to say around that thickness, teasingly, "you're so that sure this isn't all a really good dream?"

"Not possible," Edge said decisively.

"yeah? how you figure?"

"Because my imagination could not possibly come up with anything as wonderful as you.”

Okay, this was too much, forget pinatas, his soul was going to pop like an overinflated balloon. This time Stretch did squirm free, folding his arms on Edge’s chest and resting his chin on them as he said admiringly, "you are a smooth one, babe."

Edge only gazed back at him, his eye lights soft, “Only for you.”

Uh huh, this needed to stop, or his soul going to melt like a Hershey bar in a hot car and mess up the nice clean sheets more than they already had. "can't say i had any grandiose ideas when i was a kid, but. the being happy thing? that feeling is completely mutual.”

Edge smiled, that soft, secret smile that only belong to Stretch, and he shifted, rolling them over. His mouth was warm against Stretch’s, pouring that mutual happiness back into each other through a kiss. Those kisses quickly grew drowsy and they settled in together, Stretch already verging on sleep.

Yeah, the day was nothing special, nothing extraordinary, and maybe Edge dreamed of grandness back when he was a kid, but for him? This was what Stretch had always wanted. Back in the bad, old days in Underswap, all he ever wanted was something like this.

His perfectly ordinary day.

-finis-

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #by any other name

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soheila-1996 · 4 years

Text

My story- Part Thirteen

I have epilepsy. This details my seizures, I can’t speak for everyone, everyone’s seizures/ experiences are different. This is graphic. Seizures are messy. They aren’t fun and it felt wrong to make it out to be cute when they really aren’t. Pretty much all the things that happen in the plot have happened to me. Well, I’m not married to a king or live in a palace so…there’s that but everything else is accurate. There may be some jokes about it here because I do joke about it sometimes. It makes me more comfortable and I find it helps relax everyone around me. I’m also writing about it because there really aren’t that many fics written about it and I think it’s important to shine light on it.

Any feedback is really appreciated! :)

Tags: @kacie-0156 @texaskitten30, @cordonianroyalty, @kingliam2019 , @cordonia-gothqueen, @bobasheebaby @losingbraincellseveryday @marshmallowsaremyfavorite @jared2612 @flutistbyday2020 @debramcg1106 @anotherbeingsworld @leaharhys @cordoniaqueensworld @bascmve01

Paring: Liam and Riley

Warnings: SUICIDE ATTEMPT, mention of miscarriage.

Word count: 5,316

Catch up here

This one again is super personal to me. They all are personal in one way or another but this one and the one about my miscarriage are extremely personal.

I really debated writing this in but writing is such an amazing outlet. I was in such a dark place when I lost the baby last year and I didn’t see a way out so I did things that I’m not proud of. I tried to take my own life and now i’m so beyond happy that my attempt was unsuccessful, however, everything has just gone really wrong over the last few weeks and I’ve just started feeling really down again. Writing about my feelings is kind of helping me get out of this funk.

(Riley’s POV)

It’s now the next morning since I arrived back from the hospital. Liam, my parents and my brother had tried to get me to come out of my room but I was being a rebellious teenager and refused to open the door. I think Liam has slept in the spare room. We live in a literal palace so there’s plenty of space for him to stay. I don’t think any of them can understand how I’m feeling. I know that everyone has days when they feel down and a little depressed but I feel like this all the time. I’m numb. I go through my day like a robot. Physically I’m here but mentally I’m a million miles away. I just don’t feel anything anymore.

Everyday just blends in together until it makes no sense anymore. I feel like I’m going crazy. My memory has just gone; I don't even remember what I had for breakfast...If I had breakfast at all that is. I hate this so much.

I’ve taken my medication for the first time in a while earlier this morning after a heated debate with my parents. I struggle to see how any of them think that taking a few pills is going to do anything. It should stop the seizures but it’s not going to change how I feel.

I feel suffocated. I don’t need to be treated like I’m a baby. I’m just...I’m tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally, I’m just so exhausted all the time. I am sick of faking being happy; it doesn't work.

Losing the baby was just my breaking point and I’m not sure there’s any coming back from it. I don’t want to come back from it. Why would I want to carry on knowing that the rest of my life will be spent in fear of a seizure, that I might not be able to give my husband the one thing he wants more than anything, or with the possibility that I’ll get out of this hole and in a short while end up back here again?

I just want it to stop.

“Why do you keep looking at me?” I ask, bitterly. I’m sitting on the couch in silence with the rest of my family. I can feel Josh’s eyes on me. I turn to look at him as he averts his gaze. “If you’ve got something to say, just say it.”

“Just talk to us, Ri,” my brother encouraged.

“About? I told you last night all you need to know. I’ve fucked everything up,” I say, raising my voice as I stand up.

“No, you haven't,” Josh insists.

I shake my head and let out a frustrated groan. When are they going to understand that telling me that everything is fine, that I didn’t fuck up isn't helping? It goes in one ear and out the other. I look back to Josh. “Why are you here, Josh? Who invited you?”

This isn't me. I’m not mean. I’m not like this. I love my brother, growing up he was my best friend but I just don’t care anymore.

“I don’t need my big brother to come and save the day. I’m an adult!” I yell. I’m so easily agitated. Maybe that’s down to the lack of sleep...I don’t know. “And you!” I yell as I turn my full attention to my husband. “You only care because it makes you look like a good person, doesn't it? Lovely, kind Liam married the girl with a disability!”

He looks stunned...maybe a little hurt even. Liam opens his mouth to speak but obviously decides against it. “H-how can you say that?”

“Because it’s true,” I shrug. Nobody says anything to object and in my head they’re just confirming it. It wouldn’t be the first time somebody has used me and my disorder to make themselves look like a better person.

Liam gets to his feet and attempts to step towards me. I hold up a hand to stop him. “Just leave me alone,” I command.

I move past him, grab my phone off the coffee table then I leave the apartment. I need to just be away from everyone.

I need some space.

Jacob and I have been getting particularly closer over the last few weeks. He had visited me a couple times while in the hospital and had been coming over after school. I’m still not back but my parents have agreed to let Jacob, Luna and a couple of my other friends come over.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my siblings and parents but I’m starting to get a little sick of being stuck with them all day. The house has currently been chaotic- Josh is moving out, he’s been saying this for a couple years though, to be fair he had actually moved out with his girlfriend but they had broken up. It was rather tragic actually. He really loved it. Casey is also about to move out and to Boston apparently.

Jacob and I are snuggled up on the couch, blanket draped over our legs, despite the fact it’s the middle of the summer in NYC. Although I’ve got the AC on high enough that at least we’re not dripping with sweat as we cuddle.

Sitting inside is not the ideal thing to do on such a beautiful day however, sometimes, much like now the heat has been known to cause more seizures. I don’t mind sitting inside though; I’m not really a fan of the sun, I burn really easily. That might possible be now to me being a ginger- the sun hates me.

Jacob is just amazing. Since he found out about my epilepsy he has been amazing. He makes sure that I’m on my side and helps me wake up when the seizure ends. Obviously, epilepsy is a big thing to deal with when you actually have it but it’s also a big thing for the people are you too but Jacob doesn’t seem bothered by it or is overly worried. It’s nice and refreshing to have somebody who isn’t constantly worried, however, we haven't really discussed it so he doesn’t know much about it.

We spend a little while longer watching celebrity masterchef- Jacob is from the UK and had introduced me to the show a little while ago as we talk about what it's like back in England. It’s nice learning about where he’s from. He’s lived in the States for a few years now but still has a very, very British accent.

“What triggers them?” Jacob asks, breaking the comfortable silence between us both. I look up to him with a raised eyebrow. “Your seizures. What triggers them?”

I clear my throat, thinking about what I'm going to say before I speak normally makes me stutter a little less. “Q-quite a few t-things. N-not taking m-my medication, sleep d-d-deprivation, s-stress, if I get t-too overwhelmed can t-trigger them, if I d-don't eat can s-sometimes cause them or if I get t-too hot.” I explain, internally cringing at how much I just stuttered. Speech therapy it helping, it’s not as bad as it used to be but it’s nowhere near back to how it was before. He nods. “W-When I-I was younger hot showers sometimes triggered them or caused an aura,” I add, “I-it doesn't really happen anymore. I-i-It’s a m-minefield s-s-sometimes.”

“Aura?” he asked.

“Yeah,” I nod, “N-not like a-a s-s-spiritual one. It's what t-t-the feeling you get before a s-s-seizure is c-called.”

“And you get that every time you’re about to have a seizure?”

“M-m-most of the time. Occasionally they just k-kinda happen but n-n-normally before a grand mal s-seizure I will. W-when I have absences they just happen b-but they’re m-much e-easier t-to recover from. They happen a-and then i-I’m fine s-straight away,” I explain.

“Absence?” he asks. It dawns on me that he really doesn't know much about my seizures or seizures in general other than the basic first aid while it’s actually happening.

I turn around to face him and bring my legs under me. I take some time to think about my sentence before I speak. “Yeah, there’s different types of s-s-seizures,” I tell him, “Grand m-mal s-seizures are the m-most r-recognisable s-seizure; it’s the m-most c-c-common one people think about but then there’s a few others. I have absence seizures which is when I kinda just s-stare off into space for a couple s-seconds. I’ve also had a couple m-m-myoclonic seizures too.”

“What’s that?”

“It n-normally happens in n-both arms but not always, your m-mouth can twitch and your jaw can jerk. It can happen to the head and neck too but the person is fully aware of what’s happening. They’re really scary- all types of seizures are.”

We talked for a little while longer about my epilepsy and eventually changed the subject to something a little happier. I was engrossed in our conversation when my stomach rolled.

Not now.

I took in a deep breath as I tried to get rid of the nausea. It doesn’t go away and my arm starts to tingle. “J-Jake, i-it might happen again,” I told him, panicked- this never gets easier.

He peeled his gaze off the tv and turned to me. “Ri, you had one this morning. Are you sure this is okay?” He asks me with concern.

It’s true I had one this morning but unfortunately my brain doesn’t really care about if I've already had one today. I’ve learned that it’s going to do whatever it wants and that I have no say in it.

Jacob helps me off the couch and onto the floor. This one is coming on really, really quickly. I don’t remember anything anymore; nothing makes sense. Basically, as soon as I’m laying down on the floor I’m consumed by blackness.

I’m now outside after storming off. Taking a walk through the palace grounds often helps me to clear my head. I’m head to the garden maze- that’s my favourite place. The place I can go to and just clear my head and attempt to make sense of everything.

Everything is a mess. Why can’t I just open up to people? Why can’t I be honest with people about how I’m feeling? There’s thick dark grey clouds looming over me. It’s going to rain. Great. Even the weather seems to be in sync to how I’m feeling.

I want to be able to open up. I want to stop feeling like this but do I deserve to feel better? I don’t think I do.

Ben constantly made me feel like shit and so did all his friends. My teenage years especially were made up of people telling me that I’m worthless or should’ve died and now it’s made up of having everything that I want so incredibly badly taken away from me.

Is there any point to any of this anymore? I can’t seem to find one.

Josh, my mom and dad, Liam, my friends all ask me if i’m okay and I say i’m fine. It’s a habit. I tell them that I’m okay while I’m screaming on the inside that I’m not; praying that they’ll continue to push me enough so I finally break and tell them...but they don’t. They think giving me space and time is helping me but while I’m alone I just dig myself a deeper hole; one that I’m never going to be able to escape from.

Every time they leave me alone it's like they’re putting me back into a cell, all by myself, alone with these crippling thoughts. My mind is a prison and I’m never getting out.

I continue to walk for a little while longer. It’s cold and I can feel the rain lightly starting to fall but I don’t want to go back. Not yet.

I can feel the salty tears streaming down my cheeks but I don’t wipe them away. What’s the point? They’ll just soon be replaced with more.

My family, my friends, my husband...they hate me don’t they? I snapped at Josh, at Liam...I- I suddenly come to a halt when my stomach rolls and I feel that all too familiar feeling again.

My arm is beginning to tingle, everything is growing more and more confusing. The one thing I know is that I want my husband. I want Liam.

Why was I so mean to him? He was only trying to help.

He’s going to be even more angry at me after this. I can’t tell him; he’ll be mad. I think for a second. There’s one other person that won’t be mad at me...

Casey- my doctor sister.

I retrieved my phone from my back pocket, nearly dropping it onto the floor in the process. I clumsily find her contact and type out a barely coherent text.

Me: Im goins to hsve a seizure

Even auto-correct can’t help me. The device in my hand makes a sound just seconds later as a reply comes in.

Casey: Like right now?

My vision is starting to blur and I know longer know how to respond to my sister. Nothing makes sense.

The device starts to vibrate and sound comes from it too. I fumble with it and manage to answer.

“Hello?” I asked, my voice slurred. I try to hold the device to my ear but coordination is not something I possess right now so it rests on my cheek. I’m sure this isn’t right.

“Ri?” My sister’s concerned voice sounded through the device, “Where are you?”

“I..”

“Where’s Liam, Ri? What’s going on?” She sounds serious.

“He doesn’t w-want t-to,” I stutter. I can feel the tears starting to prick at my eyes.

“He’s mad,” I slur.

“Where are you?”

“O-outside,” I stutter.

“Can you lay down on your side for me?” She directs me gently. I comply and lower myself down onto the wet grass and lay on my side. I can feel something hitting me...like rain.

“He’s mad,” I whisper. That’s all I know; Liam’s mad at me and won’t want to help me.

“He still wants to help you,” She told me but I don’t believe her. “Riley, I need you to stay on your side for me, okay? I’m going to call Liam.” I think she’s hung up I can’t hear her anymore.

I close my eyes; feeling my body be covered in goosebumps as the freezing cold rain hammers down. “H-He’s m-m-mad at m-me.” That’s the last thought I have, the last thing I can say before the world goes black.

(Drake's POV)

I’m out on my morning run on the way back to the palace now. Rain has started to pour and the crisp air has started to sting at my exposed arms, legs and face.

I’m jogging along the path on the way back to the palace when I notice somebody laying on the grass. I slow down a little and change direction to head over.

As I get closer I realise that it’s Riley so pick up my jog. I finally reach her and kneel down beside her. I lean over her slightly to look at her face, her eyes are closed and a little blood is pooling out of her mouth. Without thinking, I wipe it away and onto my black shorts. I then brush hair away from her face. My hand brushes against her skin- she’s freezing. Based on the fact that the blood is still wet I concluded that the seizure must’ve stopped really recently so I lift her up into my arms and head back inside.

As I enter the palace, I see Liam walking down the grand staircase. I see tell by the expression he’s got on his face that’s her scared and panicked. He visibly relaxes when he see’s us. Liam hurries down the rest of the steps and over to us.

“Is she okay?” Liam asked, his voice wavers ever so slightly.

I don’t really know the answer to that question though. I mean, I’m only guessing she had a seizure based on how I found her. I shrug, “I-I just found her outside and- “

“Her sister just called me,” Liam told me, “Casey said that Riley thought she’s going to have a seizure.” Liam held out his arms to me and I gently place Riley in his arms. “She’s freezing.”

We head away from any prying eyes of any of the staff into a nearby drawing room. Liam gently places her down on the floor on her side and takes a blanket off the couch and lays it over her. He then kneels down beside her and slips her jacket, tossing it carelessly to the side. He then slips off her soaking wet shoes and socks, discarding of them in the same way.

“Where was she?” Liam asked as I perched on couch.

“Near the entrance to the maze.” Liam nods and I can sense there’s something going on. Is that any of my business though? Probably not but I can see that whatever is happening, what ever happened is starting to take a toll on him.

He looks like he hasn’t slept. I can see that he’s been crying but his red-rimmed eyes. I’ve never seen him look so..broken before.

“What’s going on, Li?”

I’ve never seen him life this and this has me feeling a little panicky. Liam clear wants to cry, his eyes are welling up to the brim but he’s holding it in. He doesn’t take his gaze off of her as he continues running his fingers through her damp hair.

“She called Casey because,” Liam pauses, his voice cracking, “Because she was afraid to tell me, that I would be mad,” He told me, avoiding my question.

“You know she’s not herself when she’s like this.” I try to reason, “She was just confused, Li.”

Liam doesn’t say anything and I can take the hint that he doesn’t want to talk about it. Riley’s actions have hurt him- that much is obvious.

It’s a couple minutes later when Riley’s eyes start to flutter. I get to my feet and clear my throat to get my friends attention.

“I’ll leave you guys to it.” Liam gives me an appreciative nod as I take my leave.

(Riley’s POV)

The first thing I notice is the feeling of cold, wet clothes clinging to my body. Goosebumps spread across my skin. I open my eyes fully and notice a hand laying in front of me.

... Where am I?

I soon realise that the hand is mine as i lift a finger. It’s almost like I’m underwater, my hearing is muffled but I can just about hear something....maybe someone....shifting on the floor next to me?

..What’s happening?

I can feel myself beginning to panic. My heart is pounding. Everything seems loud. Why? It’s almost like it’s reverberating as a wall of sound hits my ears. It takes me some time to realise that the only sound other than my breathing and heart beat is a voice? It’s saying words that I don’t understand in my confusion. They’re speaking a language that makes no sense to me right now.

I make my best effort to move away but I barely shift an inch. I’m really trying to escape but I can’t. Why can’t I move? A helpless, scared cry escapes my mouth. I feel terrified as I see the figure move in front of me.

As they shift into my line of vision, their features become clear and the words they’re speaking, the strange language becomes less jumbled and more coherent.

“Love, love come on it’s alright. It’s over now, love. I’m here.” I realise that I know how that voice belongs to. That face.

There’s something about it that feels familiar, safe even. I look up at him, a strand on dirty blonde hair falls over his face that he soon pushes away. “Hey, Riley,” he says, gently. I can see his mouth moving but I’m still not sure who the man is. “It’s Liam.”

Liam- that name….I know that name I realise.

Liam.

I exhale and relax into the hard floor beneath me. He seems to notice my more relax body language and shifts closer to me.

“You had a seizure,” he explains to me. I wrinkle my eyebrows in confusion, the last thing I remember was walking outside. h-how did I end up in here? “Drake brought you inside. It was raining and you were freezing.”

I nod and with his help, I manage to sit myself up. I wipe my mouth, it comes away with a red substance on the back. I’m still a little out of it and I don’t realise that it’s blood.

Everything begins to come back to me- I snapped at Liam. He’s angry at me, he’s upset with me. I accused him of something I know that he’d never do. I look up at him but I can’t read him. He’s angry.

He’s so mad.

My eyes begin to well up. It’s made such a mess out of everything, he’s mad at me, he doesn't love me anymore, he doesn’t want to be with me anymore. I shift away from him and he looks almost surprised. Is that worry flashing across his face?

No, no, it can’t be. He’s mad.

“You’re okay, Love,” He tells me. He tries to reach out to me to pull me back over but I continue to shift away, I nearly topple over- I still don’t have full control over everything just yet “You’re okay, Riley,” he tries again, “Everything’s okay.”

It’s not. Nothing is okay. Nothing is ever going to be okay. I’ve made such a colossal mess of everything.

I shake my head at him as tear slips down my cheek. Liam instinctively reaches out to try and brush it away but I move away from him.

I look away from him to take in my surroundings. I looked down realising I’m now missing my jacket, shoes and socks and a blanket is down draped over me. I think back to what Liam had said as some of the puzzle pieces slot back into place. It was raining...I remember that. At least now I under why my clothes are soaking wet.

“Ri,” Liam calls, moving closer to me. I scoot away from him once again. His face falls and I’m pretty sure I can now see his eyes starting to well up. “Please.” He sounds defeated. He sounds scared and upset and that’s all my fault.

I look up at him to see some tears trickle down his face. I want to cry to but why should I be allowed to feel upset? I caused this. This is my doing. I’ve wrecked everything single-handedly.

This is the first time that I’ve really looked at me. There’s big bags under both his eyes, his hair is unkempt, he even looks as if he’s lost a little weight, there’s stubble on his usually clean shaven face.

I’ve broken him. I’ve broken the man that I’m supposed to love and protect.

** It’s a couple hours later. It’s night now and I’ve been tossing and turning in this bed for what seems like hours. Liam and i had both returned to our quarter after that incident. I had headed to bed and had fallen asleep soon after only to wake a short time later and had spent the rest of the day laying in bed staring at the ceiling. I must’ve fallen back into my slumber at some point because I woke back up to find myself wrapped in my husbands arms and him sleeping soundly beside me. That all happens hours earlier though and i still haven’t been able to drift back off enough then I’m exhausted.

It’s hard to remember a time when I didn't feel utterly useless and hopeless. It amazes me how I’ve somehow managed to convince people that I’m okay for years. How I’ve some how managed to convince my family and friends that I’m okay with a fake smile when they are the people who are supposed to know me better than anyone; the people who are supposed to call me out on my bullshit.

Liam is sleeping beside me so I quietly got out of the end and headed down the hall to our home study. I close the door half way and I switch on the desk lamp that sits on the corner of the desk. I plop down into the seat behind the desk and open the notebook sitting in the middle and pick up a pen out of the pit.

Dear Liam,

First things first, this isn't your fault. I need you to know that. I know that you’ll blame yourself but I don’t want you to.

I’m not really sure what to say or how to explain this to you.

Everything is just so hard. Most of the time, I’m able to handle it and keep going with my life without my daily routine being affected too much but not anymore. I’m stuck in possibly the worst depressive episode that I’ve ever been in and I just don’t see a way out, Li.

I know that I should just talk to you but when I try there’s a voice at the back of my mind screaming at me that I’m nothing but a burden to you, my parents, our friends. I’m not sure when I started feeling like this. At some point everything started to feel pointless, I'm just not sure when.

You’ve made me so happy, Liam. I love you. I love that since you found out about my epilepsy you haven’t treated me like a kid or let it define our relationship. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you, I’m sorry that I scare you every time it happens. I’m sorry that I lost our baby. I’m sorry that I’ve shut down and pushed you away since it happened. I’m sorry that I’m not the woman that you married or at least I don’t feel like her anymore.

There’s not one reason why I’m doing this. There isn't a clear explanation. So many things have contributed to this but none of them are your fault. If I were to try and explain this feeling to you or my parents or anyone; you’d all say something along the lines of ‘it’ll get better’ ‘this is a long term solution for a short term problem’ or ‘ You’ve still got your entire life ahead of you’- the problem is that I don’t want it. There’s nothing more to it. I just don’t want to be here anymore. It's all just too hard.

I’m sorry; I know this will hurt you for a short while but you’ll move on. You’ll be okay. You’ll be amazing. I promise. I know I have no right to ask anything of you right now but...be happy. That’s all I want.

I love you.

Goodbye, Liam .

I place down the pen and look down at my letter. There’s a couple tears stains on it now but none of the words have been smudged.

I carefully tear out the page from the notebook and get to my feet. I quietly pad down that hall to our bedroom; Liam is thankfully still asleep. I stay in the doorway for a few minutes watching him sleep. In a short few hours he’ll wake up and I’ll be gone.

I place the note down on my bedside table then enter the bathroom that’s conjoined to our bedroom. I quietly closed the door and headed over the sink counter top.

I sniffle and wipe at both my nose and eyes with the sleeve of my hoodie. I look at my reflection; I look dead already. I don’t look like me...like a human. I don’t recognise myself at all anymore.

I glance away from the mirror and caught sight of the little muti-coloured pill containers just in front of me. It’s like it's screaming out my name, telling me to just down them all and it’ll be over. Take the pills and not wake back up. There’s not a doubt in my mind; I just want it all to stop. I can’t do this anymore- I don't want to. I can’t.

If I do it, Liam will be happy that he won’t have to worry about me anymore. No one will have to spend time and energy worrying about me anymore.

I picked up the container and popped open each little compartment and tipped them into my hand. A couple of them roll out of my hand on fall to the floor but there’s enough in my hand to do the job already.

I placed them into my mouth and swallowed them dry. I cough as they nearly get stuck going down my throat. I’m not sure how I feel right now. It’s an indescribable feeling that I can’t quite explain.

I know that It’ll soon be over, I thought I would feel relief but I...I’m scared. I still feel relief because I know that this’ll all be over soon but I’m not so sure that this was the best decision.

I feel regret for a brief moment before I remember why I’m doing this and that feeling ebbs away. This is right decision- I’m positive.

It’s a couple minutes later when I’m startled when I hear someone knocking on the door. I freeze and turn to slowly look at it.

“Riley? Honey, open the door.” That’s my mom. Why does she want? How does she even know it’s me. “Ri, you’ve been in here a long time. Please open the door, so I know you’re okay. Please?”

I forgot she was an night owl- she must’ve been in the living room or something and saw me come in here.

“I- I’m a little busy right now,” I called back. I just hope she’ll buy that and leave me alone. She doesn't need to see this.

Shit- I forget someone will come in here when it’s over and find me. I hadn’t thought of that.

I hear a brief commotion… more voices….more people are outside. Someone bangs on the door. “Riley, open the door.”

That’s Liam. Shit.

I catch sight of my reflection in the mirror. My skin is pale and beads of sweat are now forming on my forehead.

I don’t feel so good.

I wave my hands in front face to try and cool myself down. I’m so hot.

“Ri, It’s dad, open the door,” My dad pleads, “Honey, please open the door.”

I think someone just rammed into the door. It happens again and the door flies open, the frame splintering. Liam is the first person I see...kind of , my vision is starting to blur. I sway back and forth, I feel so out of it.

“What did you do?!” my dad yells. Somebody is holding me up, I can feel someones arms wrapped around my waist. I think it’s Liam.

I’m dizzy.

I hear my mom let out a sob. “Riley!”

The voices around me, the terrified screams of my family don’t register. I stumble back into my husband’s chest. My knees buckle and I’m vaguely aware of being lowered down onto the floor.

I’m barely aware of what’s going on around me, the flurry of people, nothing makes any sense. All I know is that I don’t feel good and I’m scared.

I’m trying to pay attention to what’s happening but I’m tired. I’m so tired and sleep is calling my name. My eyes flutter shut and I’m consumed by darkness.

#my story #tw sucidal thoughts #tw suicide #tw seizure #tw overdose #tw mention of miscarriage #the royal romance #trr #epilepsy #tw; depression #trr choices #choices #liam x riley #soheila-1996 writes

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beautifulpaxielreads · 4 years

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10 Questions Tag

Rules: answer 10 questions and ask 10 new ones.

Thank you to @readingbooksinisrael for the tag! 😀

1. What is your favorite subgenre (fairytale retellings, comedy of manners, alternative history, etc.)?

I do love a good fairytale retelling, now you mention it! I also am a big fan of historical fantasy fiction, if that counts as a subgenre.

2. Do you prefer writing poetry or prose?

Prose, for sure. Poetry and I don’t agree with one another.

3. What’s your favorite book from where you live (interpret this as broadly or as small as you want to)?

I think I’m going to go broadly with this one, because there is so much good Australian fiction out there, particularly by young adult authors.

My favourite is probably Illuminae (The Illuminae Files #1) by Amie Kaufman and Jay Kristoff for how innovative and fresh it is. I also love A Brief History of Montmaray (The Montmaray Journals #1) by Michelle Cooper for sheer rereadability (I know that isn’t a word, but I’m using it, so there!😋).

4. Do you watch any reality tv?

Masterchef and Gogglebox are the biggies, but I also enjoy “time-travel” style reality shows, where modern people experience life in another historical era.

5. Who is your favorite “sidekick” (from Robin to Ron and Hermione)?

Ron and Hermione, since you mentioned it. Can’t think of many others to be honest.

6. Do you prefer warm or cold colours?

Warm.

7. What is your favorite type of art to do?

I don’t really do much art, but if I had to pick one, it would probably be portraiture because I used to do a lot of that.

8. What was your favorite subject in school?

English for sure, because of my writing ability.

9. Do you like writing book reviews?

I used to, but now I can’t be bothered with them. They take too much time and I can’t always think of what I want to say about a book.

10. What’s a short story I should read?

I don’t really read a lot of short stories, but I recently read Lips Touch: Three Times by Laini Taylor and illustrated by Jim Di Bartolo (who is Laini’s husband) and I loved it, so I’d recommend any of the short stories in that, especially if you like fantasy.

I tag: @nerdyenby-vstheworld, @yesireadforfun, @clockwork-reads, @chri55ie, @theforgottencoolkid, @storytime-writings, @reedyalikeabook, @themelodyofspring, @idacippolinni, @jumpthequeue if they would like to do this challenge. If not, that’s totally fine too.

Just a heads up these questions will be of a book related nature. Here they are:

Have you ever finished a book out of spite? Like you weren’t enjoying it, but you were determined not to let it beat you?

Do you prefer ebooks, physical books or audiobooks? Why?

What’s the longest book you have read?

What’s the shortest book?

Do you read more than one book simultaneously? Why or why not? If so, what’s the greatest amount of books you have read at the same time?

Have you ever attempted to read a book that is not in your native language? (both English and non-English speakers can answer) If so, how did it go?

Do you prefer to borrow books from the library or buy them at a bookshop?

Have you ever bought a book from an online store?

Is there one genre or style of book that you will never read?

When you come across typos in your reading, does it bother you?

#beautifulpaxiel reads #bookish games #tag games

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oflovesandlikes · 4 years

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Harry x Louis Fic Rec List

A quick last minute thrown together list for my anon. I hope I made good choices in my hurry. This will be updated later on so check up on it dear anon when/if you need more harry x louis fics.

I didn’t add any tags/warnings so please go through the fic tags before reading in case of any triggers.

The Melody You Never Heard by bananasandboots

Summary:

It's one last adventure. One last chance to be young and carefree. One final weekend before they take up their internships, their corporate positions, before they enter the real world, fresh out of university. Niall's his best mate. Liam's been there for him since they were lost, little freshmen, trying to find their ways through an overwhelming first year. Harry can't disappoint them, even if it means enduring four days with Louis.

Louis, who he does share a history with, a history he's never told anyone about, not even Niall, a history he hasn't brought up in three years because it's stupid and embarrassing and confusing.

Or, the one where Harry gets roped into a four-day camping trip with the boy who kissed him and never called back.

Be My Little Good Luck Charm by 100percentsassy

Summary:

In which Harry is a promising amateur golfer making his debut at the PGA Championship, and Louis is a Sky Sports anchor who would really rather be commentating on footie.

The other boys are around too: caddy!Niall provides victory pints, Liam is Louis's Very Serious co-anchor, and poor Zayn just gets his face drawn on.

led by your beating heart by missandrogyny

Summary:

Nick leans over. "Oh," he says, his voice smug. "Who is that?"

Harry just blinks at his phone. "Um," he manages to stammer out.

"Who's that, Harry?" Nick asks again, but this time he raises his eyebrows and smirks. Harry knows Nick is just teasing, and that he's not really looking for new Harry Styles gossip, but, um. He might have found something. Accidentally.

Harry opens his mouth to speak, but all that comes out is another 'um'. He really needs to work on translating his thoughts into words. But then it probably wouldn't be any helpful right now, would it? His mind is as blank as a newly erased etch-a-sketch.

"Oh," Nick says again, this time gleefully, seemingly having picked up on Harry's distress. "Looks like we've got a story here! Are you going to call or delete her number?"

Her number. So Nick thinks it's a girl. Well, Harry can't blame him: 'Lou' is kind of an androgynous nickname. His stylist's name is Lou.

But this Lou, well, Louis, he's kind of, really, really not a girl. He's really pretty though, which, is something.

(Or: AU where Harry's in One Direction, Louis isn't, and they reconnect over a game of 'Call or Delete'.)

Relief Next To Me by dolce_piccante

Summary:

AU. What happens when a baker and a graphic designer meet via a very specific Craigslist post? Fate, friendship, food, and maybe more.

You Watched Me Sink by bananasandboots

Summary:

They've discussed it a few times - the boyfriend thing. It's not like it's some forbidden, horrific, abandon hope all ye who talk about furthering the relationship sort of subject. They're mature adults. They're in tune with their feelings, their hearts' desires, the way those butterflies swoop in their bellies whenever they so much as hold each other's hands. They like each other. A lot. It's mutual, they know. But for now, they're just content to enjoy the simplicity of what they have, and what they have is great.

When dating in secret stops being enough, then they'll discuss that too.

Or, the one where Harry teaches Sex Ed and sneaks around with the drama teacher, and doesn't realize how out of tune he is with his true feelings until everyone else figures it out for him.

Play Me Like One of Your French Girls by zimriya

Summary:

Louis is Hollywood’s ‘Bad Boy and Sometimes Darling’, and Harry is the clumsy, endearingly attractive part-time cellist whose cello gets upgraded to the seat next to his on the plane. They fall in love.

Also featuring R&B Superstar Zayn Malik, Olympic Gold Medalist Liam Payne, and Masterchef Niall Horan.

Let's Fall in Love in a Place You Want to Stay by embro

Summary:

A George of the Jungle / Tarzan AU where Louis is a model who meets Wild Man Harry in the Congo. He was raised by apes and barely speaks a word of English and turns Louis' life upside down.

don't tell the gods (we left a mess) by bottomlinsons

Summary:

After a misunderstanding with Liam’s mother, Louis agrees to accompany his best friend to a family wedding and pretend to be the world’s best boyfriend. But their simple plan goes awry when he learns that Harry, ex-boyfriend/ex-love of Louis’ life, will also be in attendance. (aka: fake!boyfriends with a twist ft. bromance, romance and cake.)

Play the Odds by alivingfire

Summary:

Harry and Louis are best friends since childhood who, after a night of drinking, find themselves locked in a bet: first one to kiss the other a thousand times wins. Wins what? They don't know. Glory, Harry supposes. Bragging rights, though those don't do much in this economy. All Harry knows is that this is one bet he can finally win. What he doesn't expect, though, is what happens when he starts kissing his best friend on a daily basis.

Namely, he doesn't expect falling head over heels in love with his best friend.

Now all he has to do is make sure the bet never ends, so he never has to stop kissing Louis.

#harry x louis #fic rec #to be added #hope you enjoy #dear anon #i can't swear by this list because it was done in a hurry

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dvp95 · 5 years

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can’t breathe when you touch my sleeve - chapter 13 (now complete)

pairing: dan howell/phil lester

rating: e

warnings: none

tags: alternate universe, slow burn, fluff & humour, tiny bit of inner turmoil wrt sexuality but trust me it’s not that deep, deeper than anticipated but still not that deep y'all this is primarily silly, eventual smut, idiots in love

word count: 6,375 for this chapter (59,473 total) (damn, i was really hoping to hit 60k)

summary: Dan keeps making a fool of himself in interviews, to the point where it’s basically a meme. Now he’s got to sit down for the better part of an hour and sell his show to the YouTuber he’d had a massive crush on when he was a teenager.

read from the beginning on ao3 or on tumblr!

read this chapter on ao3 or here!

"Do you need to do some laundry before bed?" Phil asks, stirring vegetables with the kind of dubious intensity that Dan recognises from setting one too many meals on fire himself. "Or is all your stuff dry-clean only?"

"Very funny," says Dan. He's keeping an eye on the rice, but it requires much less effort. "Yeah, I could do a load tomorrow."

Phil looks up from his skillet for the first time since he turned the heat on. "Tomorrow? Dan, you leave tomorrow."

"Not til like two," Dan says with a little shrug.

The way Phil is looking at him makes him laugh. He's never seen the man's eyes so wide and anxious, so like a deer in headlights. Dan gently nudges him away from the hob by the hip and takes over vegetable watch.

"Dan," Phil says again, "that's not very much time. You don't want to pack tonight?"

"It sounds like you probably want me to pack tonight, Phil," says Dan. "I'm good at throwing things together last minute, though. I'm not worried about being late."

"I'm worried about you being late," says Phil. "Wouldn't it be easier to pack tonight and just hang out tomorrow?"

Dan smirks and tosses the rice in with the vegetables and sauce, just to get it all stirred together. One of Phil's hands is settled on the small of his back as he needles Dan about this, and it all feels so disgustingly domestic that Dan almost can't handle it.

"Uh huh," he says, trying not to let the fondness seep too much into his tone. "So, what you're saying is, you want me to do my laundry tonight so you can keep me in bed all morning?"

"Yes, but also, I've got time anxiety," Phil chuckles. He presses a kiss to the back of Dan's neck, which makes him shiver.

"You've got anxiety about the concept of time? Honestly, same."

"Stupid," says Phil. He isn't trying to hide the fondness the way Dan is, the affection coming off him in waves as he presses himself into Dan's side, drops a kiss to Dan's shoulder. "That too, I suppose, but I mean about being late. I always have my stuff packed like, two days in advance."

"Absolutely cannot relate," Dan says, biting his lip to try and hide a smile. "But yeah. I can do a load so you're not anxious about my unpacked suitcase all night."

That's not something he would normally offer, because Dan is almost never actually late and he's just fine with his current method of timekeeping, thanks, but he'd rather keep Phil in the best possible mood. And, okay, maybe it does sound kind of nice to just have a lie-in without running around to try and grab all the things he's somehow strewn across the flat in these short days.

It's strange, actually. Dan has spent a lot of his adult life on other people's couches and in hotel rooms, and he's good at keeping his stuff compartmentalized because of that. Something about how comfortable he feels here has him treating it like it's his own home. He's absolutely certain that Phil doesn't mind, if he even notices - it's not exactly obvious that Dan's chargers and straighteners and toothbrush haven't found their way back to his bags when Phil's junk is strewn across every possible surface.

Dan bumps his hip into Phil's and turns off the hob. "You ready to eat?"

"Literally always," says Phil. His hand leaves Dan's back, and Dan feels a bit bereft for it.

Still, he supposes, joining Phil on the sofa to watch some MasterChef while Thor acts like he isn't quietly begging for scraps isn't the worst way to spend an evening. In fact, if that's the only way Dan wants to spend all his dinners from here on out, nobody has to know.

Dan takes a shower while Phil goes on a walk with the dog, and he spends more time zoning out than he does actually washing himself. His phone is blaring a playlist he doesn't even remember making, and while it has some real bangers on it, he keeps getting distracted trying to track down the memory of it in his brain. Then, of course, his mind just drifts from there.

He thinks about his family, about the emails he still hasn't checked, about Adrian spouting bullshit profoundness down a phone line. He thinks about Heatwave, and his role in the whole mess of it, and what Amy will say when he tells her that he doesn't want to be a part of it going forward. He thinks about London, about the way the city has felt like an eventuality before but not quite like this, about how Phil is really what makes it feel like a place Dan can settle down and build a life for himself.

Most of all, Dan thinks about how much it is going to suck to be away from Phil for however long they have to be.

Long distance relationships aren't exactly Dan's forte. Which, okay, to be fair, relationships generally are not exactly Dan's forte, but he understands how this part works. He understands sex and cuddling and kissing, even if it all feels like the dial has been turned up to eleven with Phil, but he's not a hundred percent sure how to keep this sort of energy when they're an entire ocean apart. Dan is kind of a jealous person with a yo-yo of self esteem, and Phil is a very handsome and charming man who surely has far better prospects than talking to Dan on Skype until he falls asleep.

And that thought process isn't one Dan really needs to go down, is it.

He decides to try and trace back an inside joke to its inception while he washes his hair, because surely that's a better use of his time than heading down a rabbit hole of insecurity. He's still pondering that when there's a knock at the bathroom door and it opens.

"Hey, Dan?" Phil's voice comes, just loud enough to be heard over the shower and the music. Dan's eyes are closed so he doesn't get any fucking shampoo in them, and he has no idea if Phil is looking at him through the glass screen or not. He makes a noise to indicate he's heard Phil and tilts his head forward to start rinsing his hair. "You want me to throw your clothes in for you now? I can leave you something of mine to wear."

"I'd take something of yours anyway," Dan says, dry. He keeps his eyes closed. If he doesn't look, then he can live in a world where his boyfriend is checking him out just for the hell of it. Dan doesn't mind being watched by the right eyes.

"Of course you would. Anything that can't go in the wash?"

Dan grins and shrugs, even though Phil might not be looking at him. "I mean, read the fucking labels, mate. But yeah, none of my dress shirts."

"Got it." There's a beat of relative silence for so long that Dan starts to wonder if Phil has managed to leave the room without making noise - not Phil's strong suit at the best of times - but then he speaks again, low and amused. "If I were a murderer, Dan, you'd be so dead right now. Why are you facing the tap, you absolute freak?"

Water goes up Dan's nose when he laughs, and he's sure the sound of him cough-laughing isn't exactly attractive. He turns around and cracks an eye open to check if Phil is laughing at him or not.

Phil is resting against the bathroom counter with his arms crossed and a smirk playing around his pretty lips. If Dan were not acutely aware of the injuries it would cause, he'd whinge until Phil joined him under the spray.

"I'm just having a face the tap kind of day," he informs Phil, making sure his hair is completely devoid of any shampoo that might sneak-attack his eyes and make him look even more hilariously incompetent than he already does. "You just gonna stand there and look at me?"

"Tempting," says Phil. He leans over and picks up the pile of clothes that Dan had discarded beside the bath mat. "But one of us needs to get this done."

"Oi, I said I'd do it."

The grin Phil sends his way makes Dan's knees feel a bit wobbly, like he's a teenager all over again. "I know. I didn't believe you."

Honestly, that's fair. Dan is better at putting things off than he is getting off his ass to do it right away. He pretends to be offended, anyway, because it's more fun than conceding defeat. "Excuse me? I'm a man of my word, Philip."

"I believe you'd do it eventually," says Phil. "But if I do it now, then you can be naked in my bed once you're done wasting all my hot water. See? I think ahead."

"Go away," Dan laughs.

"I'm doing a nice thing!" Phil protests, but he's laughing too. He lets his gaze drift over Dan's body again, unapologetic about checking him out in a way that makes Dan's heart beat a bit faster, and then he's gone. The door closes behind him, and Dan covers his face with both hands to hide his blush from the empty bathroom and Frank Ocean's crooning.

God, he's so far gone for this guy. It's genuinely fucking ridiculous.

He doesn't spend too much more time in the shower, because his boyfriend is waiting for him. And, fuck, that still feels so goddamn weird to think. Boyfriend. Dan has a boyfriend. It's actually surreal.

Dan dries himself off and wraps the towel around his hips, because Phil hasn't come back to give him pyjamas. He turns off his mystery playlist and pushes wet curls off his forehead before he leaves the fogged-up bathroom.

"He emerges," Phil jokes, barely looking up from his phone. "Clothes are in the dresser if you want to put them on."

"If I want to?" Dan repeats with a big grin. He likes looking at Phil's long legs spread over his colourful bedsheets, glasses perched on his nose and his hair sticking up a bit at the back. He looks comfortable and soft, and Dan truly considers throwing on something soft and curling up for another nap. Or sleep, at this point, if Phil lets him sleep through the night. But he's leaving so soon, he wants more than that. "Yeah. I don't really want to."

The way Phil's lips twitch make Dan feel certain that Phil didn't really want him to, either. He puts his phone aside and raises his eyebrows at Dan. "C'mere, then."

As tempting as it is to just collapse into Phil's lap right away, Dan is getting the hang of this 'sharing a small space with a dog' thing. He has to use treats and toys to lure Thor out of the room this time, gamely ignoring Phil's snickers at his attempts. Thor is so dubious at this point, not particularly enjoying being put away, but he eventually does follow Dan into the bathroom and curl up with his rope and a reproachful look at Dan. It's very distracting, but Dan manages to remember to grab a couple of condoms. The lube is still on one of the nightstands, on the side Dan has been trying pretty hard not to think of as his own.

"You know," Dan says as he hangs his towel on a hook, closes the bathroom door behind him. "When I get a place in London, it's going to have more than two rooms. So even if you do bring Thor over, we can shut a door without him getting mad at me."

"I think he'd get mad anyway," says Phil. He sounds distracted, looking Dan over again, and Dan preens a bit under the attention.

It's not that Dan doesn't know what he looks like. He's not going to win any awards for his face or body or whatever, but he's not exactly a bridge troll. He's seen himself on screen and heard enough people talk about him in complimentary ways that he knows, more or less, the way people tend to react when they look at him, but.

Just like everything else, it feels like so much more with Phil. Normally, Dan feels anywhere from gratified to indifferent by people finding him attractive, but when Phil looks at him like that, he just feels... wanted. In a really, really good way.

"Probably," Dan says, putting a hand on his hip. His pulse jumps at the way Phil's eyes track the movement, how they linger on Dan's dick. So what if he's getting a bit hard just from being looked at? Dan doesn't mind being watched by the right eyes, and Phil's are definitely the right eyes. He can't find it in himself to be embarrassed about it, not when Phil doesn't seem to find it funny in the slightest.

"Come here," Phil says again, more firmly.

Dan does as he's told, straddling Phil's thighs and grinning at him. He takes Phil's glasses off his face, puts them and the condoms on the nightstand for safekeeping. Phil blinks a bunch and grins back at him.

"You're wearing a lot of clothes," Dan notes, toying with the collar of Phil's shirt. He hasn't changed all day, and as much as Dan likes looking at him in this tacky print, he'd much prefer to see the pale skin and downy hair and shock of metal beneath it. "That's gonna be a problem."

"Oh, is it?" Phil teases, running his cool hands over Dan's thighs, his flank, his ass. It's like he can't decide where to settle them, not that Dan is complaining about the exploration.

"Yeah, but don't worry, I can fix it." Dan flicks the buttons of Phil's shirt open, pressing his lips to Phil's collarbone as soon as the bright fabric is out of the way. He feels Phil exhale as one of his hands tangles loosely in Dan's hair.

The texture of Phil's jeans feels weird against Dan's bare inner thighs. He leans forward a bit so less of his skin is touching denim before doing something he hasn't done since he was a literal teenager. He bites down rather gently on Phil's pale collarbone and soothes it with his tongue, giving Phil plenty of opportunity to protest before he goes in properly to leave a mark.

Dan finishes unbuttoning Phil's shirt while he sucks and nips at Phil's clavicle, and he lets his large hands map out the rest of Phil's torso while he darkens the bruise to his satisfaction.

Little sighs keep escaping Phil's lips as he runs his fingers through Dan's damp hair, and Dan is sure that he would have been tugged away by now if this wasn't good for Phil, too. Dan brushes his fingertips over Phil's ribs and bites down harder, just to see where the line is.

Phil's breath hitches. Otherwise, he doesn't really react.

"You're like a vampire," he comments, his voice low and dry and very, very attractive to Dan. "Do you bite all the boys?"

"Nah," Dan murmurs, nosing at the small, blossoming bruises. He likes the way they look, hopes that Phil will send him photos later with them on display. "Just you. Want you to think about me while I'm gone."

"Trust me," says Phil. "That was never going to be a problem. D'you like getting them, too, or do you just like giving them?"

What a perfect set up to a shitty joke. Dan's favourite. He grins wide and winks up at Phil, tweaking Phil's nipple ring as he does. "Oh, I'm versatile."

Even with his shirt pushed open, his cheeks pinked, his eyes dark and intense despite not being able to see much of anything, Phil manages to roll his eyes. "Yeah, alright. D'you want a hickey or not?"

"Yes, please," Dan says cheerfully. "Nowhere I might accidentally flash to a camera."

Phil hums and looks Dan over, thoughtful. Dan feels his dick twitch at the attention and resists the ridiculous urge to cover himself.

"Okay," says Phil, patting Dan's thighs decisively. "Lie down."

"Sounds good to me, my dude," says Dan. He laughs as he rolls off of Phil and onto his back, suddenly remembering something he'd said to Phil on what he now knows was their first date. "Never sit when you can lie down, am I right?"

"You are right," Phil says dryly. He shrugs off his shirt and lets it fall to the floor. "You are also very annoying."

"Is this because I dude-zoned you?"

Phil's lips twitch, and he smacks at the general direction of Dan's thigh. He misses, hits the mattress instead, and Dan can't hold back a snort. Phil's depth perception is shot without his glasses, and Dan is so endeared by his confused blinking.

"Where are you?" Phil murmurs, mostly to himself, and stretches his hand out to connect with Dan's hip. "Aha. There you are. Got you."

"I literally was not moving." This time, the slap does connect with Dan's thigh. He doesn't really mind, but he makes a big show of sulking about it anyway. "Ow, rude."

"As if that hurt," Phil says dismissively. He trails his hand over Dan's hip and lower stomach before he moves to settle between Dan's legs, as if he's using his palm to map out where he needs to be.

Okay, yeah, Dan can work with this. He wiggles to get more comfortable and arches a bit into Phil's touch.

This always makes Dan feel so vulnerable. He knows that Phil can't see him clearly, but that doesn't seem to matter to that sense of shame that Dan still hasn't managed to eradicate. Phil presses his lips to Dan's thigh and Dan spreads his legs wider in response, blushing furiously and thanking his lucky stars that Phil probably won't notice it.

Dan knows what he wants, and normally he'd have no trouble asking for it, but he's nervous. It's hard to focus completely on the wet suction of Phil's mouth on his inner thigh when all Dan can think about is how terrifying this is to him. He can't figure out the source of the anxiety at first, mind drifting down various paths the way it had in the shower, but he's jolted back into the present when the sharp edge of Phil's teeth press against his skin.

Suddenly, it's obvious. Of course this is nerve-wracking. Everything that he's felt with Phil has been more intense than anything he's felt before, from such simple things as holding hands to the feeling of Phil's cock in his mouth, and Dan already knows how much he likes being fucked. He's nervous about, like, blacking out or doing something else stupidly embarrassing like that.

Phil pulls back to look at the mark he's left on Dan's inner thigh as best as he can without perfect vision, and Dan tries his best to ignore whatever notions of shame and fear still try to make him feel like less for enjoying something like this.

"Hey," he says, reaching for the bottle of lube before he can lose his nerve. "While you're down there, might as well make yourself useful."

It takes a bit of squinting, but Phil snorts a laugh when he figures out what Dan is holding out to him. "I thought I was already being useful," Phil says, "but sure, whatever you say."

"Don't act like it's a hardship," Dan huffs. He shifts down a bit, getting his hips in a more comfortable position. He can see a red flush all over his chest, and he bets his face looks even worse. He needs to keep fighting back that embarrassment, that shame. That fear of it being so good he won't know how to act. He doesn't want to tell Phil everything, but he wants to somewhat explain himself in case Phil can tell he's acting weird. "Though, like, guess you should know that it's been a while."

"How long we talking?" Phil hums as he brushes his thumb over Dan's dick, teasing.

"Uh," says Dan. "Like, uni."

That makes Phil sit up a bit and furrow his brow in the general direction of Dan's face. "Dan, that's almost -"

"I know," Dan groans, covering his red face with both hands. "I know it's been almost ten fucking years, Phil, but I'm not going to fucking - break, or freak out, or whatever. I do fuck myself, okay, it's just been since uni that another person's done it for me."

"Okay," Phil says, his voice soft and soothing. He squeezes Dan's thighs and leans in to press a chaste kiss to the pudge of Dan's tummy.

"Okay?" Dan repeats, his heart beating way too fast to match Phil's serenity.

"Yeah, okay," says Phil. He smiles. "You say you're okay, I believe you. Just keep talking to me, okay? And you can change your mind whenever."

Dan swallows around a sudden lump in his throat. Fuck, he shouldn't be getting so emotional just because someone about to fuck him is treating him gently, but he might have more issues around this than he'd thought he did. He reaches down to tangle his fingers with Phil's, squeezing both of his hands.

"Oh, so now you want me to talk?" he teases.

His voice doesn't come out nearly as conversational as he wants it to, but Phil is kind enough not to draw attention to it. Instead, he just asks, "You want me to suck you off? Give you something else to focus on?"

"Are you that coordinated?" Dan asks, trying his best to get the light atmosphere back. He can't deal with the weight of emotion right this second, not when he's leaving so fucking soon. He's got enough emotions to deal with about that, he doesn't need to add more onto his plate. He isn't exactly 'good' with 'emotion'.

Thankfully, Phil laughs. He pinches Dan's thigh, close to where he'd left a bruise but not quite on it. "Hey, fuck you."

"That's what I'm saying," Dan laughs too, wiggling his hips. "Fuck me."

Phil still isn't looking directly at Dan's face, but his reassuring little grin still hits Dan as hard as it would have if they were staring into each other's eyes. He settles back down between Dan's spread legs and taps at Dan's thigh.

"Lift," he instructs, and Dan knows he's blushing even deeper as he hooks a leg over Phil's bare shoulder, making things a bit easier on both of them. God, but the vulnerability is so much worse like this. Dan likes being looked at by the right eyes, but the feeling of being on display like this makes him squirmy somewhere in his gut. Phil hums against Dan's thigh, presses soft kisses over it until the muscle relaxes. "Be easier if you put the condom on for me, yeah?"

All too happy to have something to focus on that isn't the feeling of Phil's fingers brushing over his balls, Dan does as he's told.

It's easier like this, it really is. Phil is working by touch more than sight, and that becomes doubly true when Dan's dick is in his mouth and he's got his pretty, unfocused eyes closed. Dan fights back the panic threatening to overtake him, because this is just Phil.

It's just Phil. And more than anyone else he's ever met, Dan thinks that he probably trusts this man the most. He tangles his fingers in Phil's soft bedding, breathing deeply and doing his best to relax when Phil goes ahead and rubs his fingers over Dan, presses a tiny bit inside him, makes a questioning sort of noise around Dan's cock.

"Yeah," Dan breathes, letting his own eyes fall closed so he can just think about how good this feels. "It's good, you can keep going."

And it is. It's really, really good. Dan already knows he likes this, knows that a finger inside him while a hot mouth is wrapped around his cock is one of the better things for him in bed, but Phil sure does turn this up to eleven, too.

Phil isn't even trying to get him off right now, is the thing. He's sucking Dan lazily, keeping his cock warm more than actually blowing him, and his finger - fingers, after a minute, and that slight stretch makes Dan bite back a truly mortifying noise - aren't seeking out Dan's prostate, but none of that makes this any less good for Dan.

He doesn't treat Dan like he's made of glass, and Dan appreciates that almost as much as he appreciates the steady thrum of pleasure coursing through him as Phil gets him ready. He had been a bit wary that admitting the length of time would make Phil gentle and nervous, as if Dan were a bloody virgin or something, but he should really stop projecting so many of his own anxieties on a man who is clearly more well-adjusted than Dan.

The only thing Phil does is slow down when Dan has been quiet for too long, make some prompting noises, pull off him to remind Dan to breathe with him. It's considerate in a way that doesn't make Dan feel embarrassed and smothered, and Dan could fucking kiss him for that. In fact, he will, as soon as Phil comes back into kissing distance. Dan could never articulate any of this to Phil, of course, but he can kiss him until he gets the general idea.

Dan babbles. Of course he does, he's been given explicit permission to do so. It's all a jumble of affirmations and curses, not exactly sensical, but he doesn't think Phil expects him to be talking in proper sentences right this second.

Eventually, though, Dan groans and reaches for Phil's hair, pulling him off. "Okay, okay, fuck. I'm good, need you now."

He opens his eyes and has to swallow another noise at how good Phil looks right now, all reddened mouth and darkened eyes. He surely can't see the way Dan is gawping at him, but the way he smirks makes Dan think that maybe he can sense it. "What exactly do you need?" Phil asks, playing dumb. Dan would kick him if he was physically able to.

"I'm going to kick you," Dan informs him.

"Wow, abuse of the boyfriend," says Phil. He nips at Dan's stomach and sits up with a little roll of his neck, stretching it. "I'm just asking for some clarity, Daniel, you already have me."

"You're terrible," says Dan. "This is terrible. If you don't have your dick inside me in the next ten seconds, you're sleeping on the sofa."

Phil's fake-innocent mask breaks as he giggles, tongue poking out from between his teeth. "This is my bed!" he protests.

Honestly, Dan doesn't care whose bed it is. This is a ridiculous argument to be having when Phil's got three of his fingers in Dan's ass.

"Ten," Dan threatens like he would with a small child, and Phil laughs even harder at him. Dan can feel giggles threatening to bubble up from his own chest, and he tries to hold back a very unsexy snort. "Shut up, oh my god, you're the absolute worst."

"I'm not the one whining about not getting my way," Phil points out.

"Hi, have we met? I'm Dan."

Phil rolls his eyes to the ceiling and shakes his head. The loss of his fingers makes Dan whine involuntarily, and he whines even louder when Phil stands up.

Thankfully, Phil only stays off the bed long enough to shuck his jeans and pants off. Dan reaches for him, wraps a hand around Phil's cock and revels in the soft, surprised 'oh' of a noise that falls from Phil's lips. He's hard and heavy and Dan has to know if that Prince Albert will do anything for him when Phil is inside him. He gives Phil a couple strokes and tears open another condom. Maybe if Dan were a less lazy person, he'd take his own off now that it isn't needed, but - hey, it's already there, clean-up's going to be a lot easier. Whatever.

He doesn't think he can stay on his back. He isn't entirely convinced that he won't get teary if this feels at all like this 'making love' thing people keep talking about, first of all, but Dan also has far more practical excuses for rolling onto his front. His thighs are starting to cramp up, and the other people who live in this building would surely appreciate Dan's loud mouth being pressed into a pillow. Dan has so many things he could say to Phil if he asks about the change of position, but Phil doesn't ask.

A cool palm runs over Dan's lower back and rests on his hip, squeezing. Dan sighs and buries his nose further into the pillowcase. It smells like Phil's fruity shampoo, and that's comforting. This isn't as scary now that Dan remembers exactly how at ease Phil puts him, has been able to since they met.

Phil working mostly by touch gives Dan enough warning that he doesn't quite gasp when he feels the head of Phil's cock pressing against him, but he does groan into Phil's pillow.

He definitely forgot to warn Phil about his volume control issues. It would be fairly redundant to do it now, Dan thinks, because the barely-muffled sound he makes when Phil starts to sink into him is already the loudest one he's made in Phil's presence.

Phil pauses, squeezing Dan's hip again. "Hey. Good or bad?"

Dan turns his face just enough to laugh breathlessly, stretching his arms out to hold onto the pillow. "Uh, fucking incredible."

"Yeah," Phil agrees, voice so low that Dan can practically feel it vibrating down his spine. He rolls his hips carefully and makes a choked-off laugh of a noise when Dan outright moans, only able to hide the tail end of it in the pillow. "Christ. You weren't kidding, yeah? You really like this?"

Eyes closed, practically suffocating himself, Dan does his best to nod.

He does. He really likes this.

The thing is, he still isn't really sure that he's able to vocalize that, at least not right this second. Dan rocks his hips back instead of trying to articulate some kind of response, heat sparking through him at the motion. God, but it really has been a long time since Dan has gotten fucked. Phil lets his hips snap forward to meet Dan's little thrusts, and, yeah. Fuck.

Dan was right. This feels so much better than any other cock he's ever had, and it isn't because the ball of Phil's piercing keeps nudging against Dan's prostate just right or because he's thick enough to stretch Dan just the way he likes - or, okay, it isn't solely because of those things. They do help.

It's just because this is Phil rocking into him, pressing kisses over his shoulders, making little breathy noises whenever Dan clenches around him.

Honestly, Dan had no idea that liking someone so much and trusting them with his body would make sex this much better. Sure, yeah, it makes logical sense or whatever, but it isn't something he could have ever guessed he'd get to experience.

He’s still overthinking when a particularly hard thrust has him rushing to the edge faster than he has in a long time, making his entire mind short-circuit.

"Oh," he moans, curling his hands into fists in Phil’s pillow and nodding into the fabric. "Oh, fuck, s-sorry, close -"

Phil's laugh turns into a groan, and Dan thinks that's the hottest thing he's ever heard. "The fuck are you sorry for, Dan?" He slides one of his hands around to play with Dan's cock, tight enough that Dan doesn't even fucking care about the latex barrier keeping him from the texture of Phil's palm. Phil presses more of his weight onto Dan, kisses the side of his neck, murmurs directly into his ear. "I want you to come."

Yeah. Okay. Dan might be a bit suggestible. He bites down on Phil’s pillow as his orgasm hits, embarrassingly quickly. Maybe he does black out for a second, because he feels heat through his entire body one moment and absolutely boneless the next.

Phil is still kissing over his feverish skin when Dan comes back to himself, and the feeling of him grinding slow into Dan is hovering right on the knife edge of too-much.

"Fuck," Dan gasps, turning his head so he can breathe again. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and he isn't sure that his arms will ever not be jelly again. He feels Phil stop moving, probably planning to pull out, and he whines a bit. "No, s'okay. You can finish, baby."

If Dan were more present, he might care that he's called someone baby unironically. As it is, he just wiggles back into Phil and revels in the moan he gets in response.

"You sure?" Phil checks, voice trembling the tiniest bit. It's like he's holding himself back. He doesn't have to do that, not with Dan.

"Very sure," says Dan. He closes his eyes, lets the too-much turn back into a low level thrum of pleasure. He's not nineteen anymore, he definitely can't go again tonight, but it still feels good to be making Phil feel good. He hums and reaches a hand back to hold onto Phil's, both of them pressed against Dan's hip. He feels loose-limbed, happy, and he doesn't second guess himself at all when he adds, "I like the way it feels. You can keep going."

"God," Phil breathes. He gives Dan a couple of slow, careful thrusts, testing the waters, but when Dan only makes a contented noise in response, Phil starts really fucking him again.

Dan holds tight to Phil's hand and lets Phil use him for his own end, murmuring absolute nonsense to help him along. Just, "Yeah, that's it, doesn't it feel good, you feel good", that sort of thing.

Still, Phil does get there before Dan stops enjoying the oversensitive feeling. His rhythm falters a couple of times and his blunt nails dig into Dan's skin, hopefully leaving more physical reminders of the best sex Dan's ever had, before he's groaning something that sounds like Dan's name and coming. Dan whimpers at the feeling of Phil losing control inside him.

They're both panting and sweaty and have gross condoms to dispose of, but when Phil pulls out of him and pulls him into a cuddle, Dan feels more at peace than he thinks he ever has in his goddamn life.

"I don't want to leave," Dan whispers into the quiet, because he isn't sure if he's told Phil as much.

"I don't want you to leave," Phil says, pressing a kiss to Dan's damp curls. His arms feel so steady around Dan, not at all jelly like Dan's are. "But you'll be back when you can, right? And I go to Florida every year with my family, I can totally road trip to you."

With any luck, that won't be necessary. Dan is too fucked-out and sleepy to turn this into a Conversation, though, so he just makes an affirmative sort of noise and nuzzles into Phil's chest.

They can clean up in a minute.

"Sorry, sorry, I know I was almost late, but I promise I have a good reason for it -"

"You can't be almost late," Phil says, rather patiently for the time of morning it is in London. He looks tired, glasses on and hair an absolute mess, but he'd woken up just because Dan had asked him to. Dan can see Thor's nose, resting on Phil's thigh, and everything inside him wants to crawl through the screen to join them both.

Dan settles in the hotel bed with his phone, grinning at how cute they both look even through shitty FaceTime quality. "Still, I'm sorry. I know it's early."

"Yeah," Phil says, unable to stop himself from yawning. He gives Dan a sheepish little smile. "But I wanted to see you. How's L.A. going? Has anyone tried to lick you yet?"

"For the last time, you're the only person who has multiple stories of strangers trying to lick you," says Dan. He winks. "Not that I blame them."

The grin Phil gives him makes his stomach swoop. Dan wonders if it's ever going to stop doing that.

"Shut up," Phil says, fond. He shifts around on his sofa, getting comfortable, and Thor gives him a disappointed sort of look for the temporary displacement. "Sorry, buddy. But I'm serious, Dan, what's up? You've been stupidly vague."

"Yeah, I guess I have," says Dan. He lifts a shoulder in a lazy sort of shrug and puts his hand in front of his mouth to try and hide the ridiculously happy grin on his face. "I've been talking to producers all day, and it's been a fucking nightmare. Just got back to the hotel, I really did think I'd be back earlier than this and I could try to be early for once, but."

Phil blinks at him. "I thought you were on vacation."

"Don't you think I'd go to your place if I were on vacation?" Dan laughs. "No, I - I didn't want to get your hopes up. But like, here's the thing. I've got news."

Even Thor seems to perk up. Dan grins at his screen, wishes he could watch Phil's eyes go from their carefully guarded neutrality into something that's softer, more hopeful. Just for Dan.

"You've got news," Phil repeats. He bites his lip. "What kind of news?"

Dan had this whole plan to drag it out, make it all dramatic, but now that he's faced with the cautious optimism in Phil's face, he can't bring himself to do it. He laughs, rolls onto his side to get more comfortable. "Well, you can tell your mum I'm coming round for Christmas, for one."

#can't breathe when you touch my sleeve #dnp fic #phanfic #phan #phanfiction #words words words #i can't believe it's over.... fuck. i hope i made y'all smile and laugh and feel good #that was the whole point #;~;

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martiniblves · 5 years

Text

mijoo and her iconic entrances DFKLSJGDF

yes, i really am recycling the intro some of you probably Just caught when you followed me DGSFLJLGSD

hey y’all, i’m kat, english student and an old hag :/ also slowly coming down from an anxiety moment, hence only deleting old shit now and potentially going rogue from my blog for the night after posting this ( aka, best if y'all send me your d*scord users bc it's much easier for me there ) sfdgjgfd i’m super excited for this group and can’t wait to read all about your muses ! and hoping you feel the same, i’ll get right to introducing avalon bay’s resident messy brat, dahlia !

[ lee mijoo ] dahlia kim, twenty-four, cis female, she/her, radio dj — a world-class traveler in the making, self-proclaimed “ reformed ” groupie, has been a tennant at avalon bay for two years, her cherry blaster obsession is the sweetest thing about her, she slept with an ex-best friend’s roommate and crush as revenge. [ kat, 22, nt, she/her ]

she often goes between dahlia and dia, first and foremost sdfglkj

came from a super small town in upstate new york where there wasn’t much to do or much to see, so growing up she had an adventurous streak that would run rampant when she was able to go off by herself, able to drive, and finally able to leave it behind

her family life was rather average, her parents scraped by financially but her and her two younger siblings never really went without — aside from a toy or two at christmas or a brand new car for their sixteenth birthdays sfgkljgdf

gets on fine with them, but her and her little/middle sister have had an on-and-off contentious relationship that, at the moment, is very much ON SDFGFG

small town life was.. okay overall, she was social Enough and polite but never really maintained any close relationships with her childhood pals once high school came and went, mostly bc the town was full of gossips so everyone thought poorly of each other and passed it onto their kids LSKFDGJGDFL

and yes, i’m kinda basing this off of the antics of adults from my hometown, what about it ??

she spent most of her formative years with her head in the clouds and music always around her or on her mind

so you bet she wound up taking guitar and piano lessons when she was a kid and well into her teens, and dare i say she was pretty good at it fsdglkjgdf

having that skill gave her the boost of confidence she needed from middle school onward, having been a tad reserved before then

idk what else to add bc i honestly can’t think of anything else about her past Before moving away. dull as hell probably, more than it’s already been said LKGSDF

upon moving to the city, she attended nyu just to keep her parents from completely losing their minds over her not.. wanting to go on a sure path, majoring in communications and spending much of her time as a dj for the campus radio station’s late night shows

soon began searching for dj gigs at major radio stations once she’d graduated and landed a spot as an intern to meet with artists the station wished to interview, etc, and even had an opportunity or two to interview them herself

through that job, she became more exposed to the groupie lifestyle and — having always been somewhat intrigued — soon became one ( of sorts )

sorry if you’re a fan of h*lsey bc this might come across as a dig, but this is where she becomes the chill version of groupie!h*lsey that h*lsey wishes she had been DFLSKJDGSFL

she liked the attention from drummers, singers and rappers alike — plus having sex with talented, rich people whenever they were in town didn’t hurt one bit — and she kept it all separate from her job, although it did help the station land more interviews, tickets for contests, etc

wasn’t big on hard drugs, but she never shied away from a bong being handed to her or a couple of xanax tablets, just so we’re clear here sdflkgjfdgk

however, the no-strings set-up quickly shifted for dahlia upon meeting a rising indie band’s lead singer

he was smooth as hell, which she already knew alongside his tendency to get bored easily with fangirls-turned-groupies like the rest of the musicians she’d met, so when she played along with his game, it didn’t take long for him to maintain an interest in her and for them to forge something of a friendship

she’d never admit it to anyone, but he was her first love as the initial sexual attraction very quickly became romantic after long conversations about music and aspirations, mundane happenings in their lives separate from their encounters and who should’ve won immunity on the recent ep of masterchef; dia knew he wouldn’t settle down now and she knew that while she was his number one at that point, she wasn’t the only one he had. a couple of months passed where it seemed like he was going only to her, that his interest rarely waned to the other girls that would swarm him, which led her to believe he was at least somewhat into her and to her confessing when they were both drunk one night — only to be shut down but not shut out

dejected and heartbroken, she still couldn’t quite distance herself from him like she knew she should and the front she put up — that she exaggerated her feelings and would get over it — made him none the wiser

however, he couldn’t get over the thought of his fwb still being in love with him and cut ties with her abruptly before his nth departure from nyc

it took her right out of her bubble, left a horrible taste in her mouth to even go back to being a groupie for others over how poorly it all went with him, so she abandoned the sexual aspect and potential intimacy of it — but not before taking herself completely out of that lifestyle for a few months to get over him

which.. lbr, she’s only 90% of the way there to this day sfdlkkdfsgl

upon going back, she showed up to shows and parties solely as a friend of the performer.... before that got old Quick and she realized how soul-sucking it was for her sexually frustrated And repressed ass KFSLJGS

though ask her pals and they’d think she’d given it up altogether, hence her supposedly being reformed

.. at least she isn’t indulging in drugs like she occasionally used to, so that counts for something lksdfjlgdf

as for her time in radio, she got promoted to a morning slot as a dj with a couple of co-hosts last year, though once an afternoon slot opened, she high-tailed it out of there

anything to get back to her chill, late night roots and this was the first step

lastly, she moved to avalon bay 2 years ago, after uni was done and she had to move out of the dorms. in that time, she’d become best friends with another girl and had a massive falling out bc the other was. well. changing for the worst sgfjgfd

she became selfish, judgmental, advantageous and disloyal, and soon dia had enough of her hypocritical and generally nasty antics ( and not without a brutal argument that left both of their egos bruised )

dahlia isn’t always one for petty revenge, but when the ex-bff’s roommate and crush — who dia had a slight interest in as well — bumped into her in the hallway of their dorm one night, she took her chance to knock the other down a peg by initiating a flirtatious conversation that quickly turned sexual

with her ex-bff being on the other side of the wall of said roommate’s room

safe to say that their ( final ) conversation in the morning was a fucking disaster SDFLGKJGFDK

it’s not something she’s entirely ashamed about, but dia doesn’t feel the need to disclose what happened

PERSONALITY AND OTHER SHIT

she loves her friends, would die for them, would kill for them. let’s get that straight first and foremost !

does that mean she’s the nicest or even the most tolerable person ?? fuck no SFGLJGKDF

i described her to one of my pals as a “ chaotic free-spirit with a mean streak when she doesn’t get her way, ” which. could also describe a couple of my bitchier muses tbh FLDKGJDS

but she’s stubborn, irritable and has a sense of high self-worth and self-preservation

she obviously has an attitude that can and will come out if you hurt her or someone she cares about/someone she thinks doesn’t deserve it

or if you think you’re a god or something

and it can get ugly.. as explained above dfskgdgkf

however, we love confident women on this blog and here you have one !

she’s chill for the most part, so you ( probably ) won’t have anything to worry about if you stay on her good side gfsdkljgfd

passionate af about radio and music as a career, wants to have a gig like zane lowe’s beats hosting job or even annie mac’s one day

although she also wishes to put out music of her own at least Once before she dies dfgsljdfgk

bit of a wild child, likes to party and just do her own thing — partially bc she’s scared of getting older and having to give that all up/being forced to act her age

doesn’t mean she doesn’t like her quiet nights in though !

closet romantic, just wants to be swept off of her feet..... but no one needs to know that, at least she doesn’t think so FSDJKGFD

won't let you see it anyways, at least unless she's Interested and knows you're not someone who's only useful for her in the short-term

also quietly doting, will never be the mom friend bc it’s too much responsibility and patience, but will always be a good shoulder to cry on who tells you your feelings are valid before she tells you to toughen the fuck up and amend a situation yourself, might even tell you how

some exceptions may apply FDLSJGSFLK

a bit vulgar at times, just warning you now fgldskf

wants to see the world and has travelled a little as it is bc of her connections. loves it

JFKDGS

has a pet succulent bc she Knows she can't look after the big fluffy dog of her dreams rn

named him bobby after one of the characters from the love island game DFLKGSJF

i honestly dk what else to add rn, plus i’m eager af to post this so we’ll end it here ! cute extras can always be posted later !

#╳┊: — yee yee ! •「 ooc ! 」#avalon.intro #we love copying and pasting on this blog SDGFJLSKD

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