#title has absolutely nothing to do w/ the song and it barely has anything to do w/ the plot tbh i just like the way it sounds

[stolenslumber]

devils roll the dice, angels roll their eyes (preview)

Jay needs someone to pretend to be his girlfriend, and you're just the person for the job— seriously, you're almost a professional at this point, regularly charming the families of your idiot twin's friends who need your help getting their parents off their back. You have strict rules, though: (1) you'll only pretend to be someone's girlfriend on three occasions, maximum, (2) nobody is allowed to catch feelings, and (3) you get three favors in return. Too bad Jay is hellbent on breaking every last one of them.

PAIRING: park jongseong x female reader GENRE: fake dating, college au, vaguely greek life au, vaguely rich kid au, acquaintances to partners in crime to fake relationship to lovers i guess? lol, jake is your twin bc i thought it would be funny WARNINGS: swearing, (eventual) kissing and suggestive content WORD COUNT: ~2.3k (preview), final word count TBD but likely long knowing myself PUBLISH DATE: probably in the next two weeks!

“WHY DO YOU LOOK SO NICE?” 

“Why do you sound so surprised?” You scoff, tossing the apple you were just about to eat at Jake’s head. Annoyingly, he catches it in mid-air, then makes a show out of polishing it with his shirt and taking a big bite out of it. “Hey, I was going to eat that, asshole.”

“Shouldn’t have thrown it at me, then.”

You roll your eyes at your twin, then go to retrieve another apple from the fruit bowl. It’s surprisingly well-stocked, given that you’re in a frat’s kitchen. Honestly, it’s surprising that there even is a fruit bowl in a frat’s kitchen, but the president of this frat runs a tight ship.

Said president appears in the doorway just then, snatching the apple from your hands as well as the one from Jake’s hands. “Guys, seriously, you have to wash these before you eat them.”

You and Jake both whine simultaneously. “Chan!”

“I already took a bite out of that, bro,” Jake complains.

“I’m starving, please have mercy,” you beg.

Chan whips his head around from where he’d begun washing the apples in the sink to fuss at you. “What? Why haven’t you eaten yet? It’s almost 9pm!”

“Which reminds me— why do you look so nice?” Jake repeats.

“I had a thing with Mark,” you sigh.

“You can just say you were pretending to be his girlfriend; we all know what you mean,” Jake snorts.

“I had a thing with Mark,” you repeat, resisting the urge to throw another apple at Jake’s head. “It was at this ballroom downtown, and of course he had nothing to wear, so I had to take him shopping first, which made us late, and then his parents wouldn’t stop talking my ear off about how I need to convince him to give up the music major, so I couldn’t touch any of the food there. Not even the foie gras torchon,” you recall mournfully. “We just got back, like, five minutes ago.”

Chan hums sympathetically— he knows how much you love foie gras torchon. “You can probably ask for an endless supply in return for your appearance at today’s thing,” he suggests, only half-joking. It absolutely sounds like the kind of thing Mark Lee would agree to, what with his ridiculously large inheritance and hapless generosity (last month, Mark lost thousands of dollars in some animal shelter-related pyramid scheme, marketed to him by none other than Haechan Lee).

You wave a hand dismissively. “Nah, I’m keeping Mark’s favor for something else.”

Jake raises an eyebrow. “What else?”

“Whatever it turns out I need in the future, dumbass. What’s it to you, anyways?”

“Just wanna make sure the poor guy doesn’t end up trapped in your snares forever, little sis. Yo, can I have that apple back?” Jake turns to Chan with characteristic puppy eyes.

“You’re only older than me by eight minutes,” you grumble, the age-old retort slipping out of you before you can help it.

“No, Jaeyun, you cannot. And don’t talk to your sister like that— oh my god, why do I sound like Taeyong,” Chan mutters, thinking about his predecessor frat-president-slash-mother-hen.

“Jeez, government name and everything.” Jake holds his hands up, relinquishing his claim to the apple.

“In fact, your sister gets to have both of these apples, after I clean and cut them up, because she is a saint for continuing to save our asses from our parents like this,” Chan lectures, unceremoniously carving out the chunk of the apple with Jake’s bite marks and tossing it into the trash bin.

“Real ones get it!” You reach out and high-five Chan.

“That is so unfair, c’mon, man!” Jake splutters. “She gets just as much out of these fake relationships— seriously, didn’t you drive her around everywhere for, like, a month after she went to that wedding with you?”

Both you and Chan shudder at the memory. “Ugh, my worst cousin and the worst guy he was ever with. They’re still married, by the way.” Chan shakes his head. “God knows why.”

“Love conquers all…?” Jake offers.

“What the hell are you talking about love for,” a new voice grumbles. Jay strolls in through the doorway, hands full with plastic bags promising wonderful things based on how your stomach reacts to the smell.

“Oh, hell yeah, chicken!” Jake cheers. “Took you long enough, bro.”

“Traffic was hell, something about a ball downtown, and— oh. Hey.” Jay stops abruptly at the sight of you, now munching on the apple slices Chan hands you, one by one.

You wave vaguely in his direction, too busy eating to respond. Jay is one of your brother’s friends who you don’t know that well, since you’ve never pretended to be his girlfriend. It’s strange that you two don’t know each other better, actually— as the social chairs of your sorority and his fraternity, respectively, you would usually have a lot to work on together. But this year has been particularly busy for you, what with your senior thesis and your various things with Jake’s frat brothers, and you had delegated most of your social chair responsibilities to your co-chair, Yunjin, who was far better suited to the social part of the job, anyways. You suspected Jay had done the same thing, since the two of you only ever texted to confirm budgets for any joint events.

“You need to have more than one-and-three-quarters of an apple for dinner,” Chan scolds you, parental instincts back in full force.

You shrug, about to turn around and rifle through the cabinets to see if you can find some peanut butter to add to your apple slices when a takeout container appears in front of you. Tired and still starving, you react rather slowly, your eyes tracing up the hand on the container to the veins of an arm belonging to none other than Jay.

“You look hungry,” is all he says, before popping the container open for you and rearranging the rest of the plastic bags on the counter. “Jake, tell the others to come down for food.”

The others means that soon, there will be an influx of hungry frat brothers in the kitchen, and you have no desire to be anywhere near that, so you mumble a quick thank you to Jay, plop the rest of the apple slices into the takeout container (against Chan’s complaints about the contamination), and move to leave the kitchen, eager to be on your way to your sorority house.

The last thing you overhear before you leave is Jay asking, “Why did your sister look so nice?”, and Jake and Chan responding in unison, “She had a thing.”

A few days later, when they’re doing work in the library, Jay asks Jake, “So how long have Mark and your sister been seeing each other?”

Jake’s pencil jerks across his graph paper, a jagged line appearing on the page at the same time that he swears. “Dude, what the fuck?”

“Dude, what the fuck,” Jay echoes flatly. “Didn’t you say she had a thing with Mark?”

Jake blinks. “Well, sure, in the same way that she’s had a thing with Chan, and Yeonjun, and Vernon, and all the others.”

Jay gapes at him. “Your sister dated all of them? And all the others?”

“What, no, she didn’t date them, she fake-dated them! Just a couple of times, mainly showing up to things with their families so their parents would leave them alone about finding a partner and all that. You know how the parents are.” Jake gestures vaguely, referring to the oddities of the world of wealth they were born into.

Jay nods slowly, understanding dawning upon him. Does he know how the parents are? Oh, does he ever. He has always had a good relationship with his own, but they had been more pushy on the whole love thing as of late, with the not-at-all subtle questions his mother asks about any special someones in his life and the unfunny jokes his dad cracks about how he’s still spry enough to help raise grandchildren. Especially unfunny, given the health scare his dad had given them all in the last year.

Jake’s voice brings him out of his veering-towards-morbid thoughts. “But seriously, bro, how is this news to you? My sister’s been doing this… Cinderella-genie thing for over two years now.”

Jay’s eyebrows furrow. “Cinderella-genie thing?”

“Yeah, I mean, she transforms our frat brothers into respectable young men with a respectable relationship, but only for three occasions, and she gets the same number of favors back.” Jake wrinkles his nose. “It sounds weird when I say it like that, and don’t get me wrong, I love to give her shit for it, but it’s all above-board stuff. Sunghoon bought her bubble tea for like, three months.”

“She fake-dated Sunghoon?”

At the mention of his name, Sunghoon pops one side of his headphones off. “What’s up?”

“You fake-dated Jake’s sister!?”

Sunghoon shushes him before responding. “Yeah, don’t you remember? It was a couple of months ago.”

Jay’s ears flush, both at how loud he had unconsciously gotten, and at the reminder that he really has been out of it for a while now. It’s not like he’s been living under a rock, but he has definitely been spending a lot more time with his parents and away from his friends ever since his dad’s health scare.

“She was great, though,” Sunghoon continues. “My mom still thinks I made the biggest mistake of my life ‘letting her go.’ But she’s also been leaving me alone about ‘finding love’ because she thinks I’m heartbroken, so yeah, Jake’s sister works wonders.”

Jake smirks. “Sim genes, man. Elite stuff.”

Sunghoon scoffs. “You wish. Didn’t I hear your mom yelling at you on the phone the other day for not having settled down yet?”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. Does she not realize what decade this is, I mean, we’re still in college—”

Jay interrupts what looks to be the beginning of a long rant from Jake, cutting him off with, “So where can I sign up?”

Jake stares blankly at him. “Sign up for what?”

“The Cinderella-genie thing.”

Sunghoon scrunches his face awkwardly. “Uh, she kind of has a waitlist, buddy.”

Jay waits for him to laugh and say he’s just kidding, but he doesn’t. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, she doesn’t do the fake-dating thing for multiple people at the same time, and she’s pretty busy with all her shit, so I’m not sure how long of a queue you have ahead of you…”

“Okay, but Jake could get me ahead, right? Cut the line, or something? C’mon dude, I’m your best friend.” Jay is suddenly desperate, remembering the conversation he’d had with his mom on the phone last night, where she had dreamily recalled meeting his dad in college and delicately reminded Jay that he could have a plus-one to the Parks’ upcoming 50th wedding anniversary celebration.

Jake eyes his friend warily. “I dunno, she really doesn’t like stuff like that. Unfair advantages, I mean.”

“My parents aren’t getting any younger, Jake, and you know, with my dad last year and everything…” Jay does his best approximation of batting his eyelashes at Jake.

“Are you guilt-tripping me?”

“A little?” Jay’s smile turns a little maniacal. “For real, my parents have their 50th wedding anniversary coming up, and it would be the perfect event to bring her to so I can reassure them that things are going well in my love life.”

“Are things going anywhere in your love life?” Sunghoon’s tone is skeptical, and reasonably so.

Jay has been distant lately because of his family, but even before that he had always been known as somewhat aloof and unattainable. Devastatingly handsome, yes, with killer grades and fierce ambition, and a business empire to inherit to boot, but he is also his parents’ one and only miracle child, born after years of trying and almost giving up. Jay’s parents are older than all of his friends’ parents, and their family business has always been that— a family business. Jay has two years after graduation to learn the ropes in the business, and then he’ll be due for an MBA, and then a return to helm the business, but this timeline has recently felt more urgent than ever with his parents’ flagging health. They would never say it, but he knows the only reason they haven’t retired yet is because they don’t want to hand over control of the business to anyone but him. Jay has worked his ass off in college, trying to get there as fast as he can, as well as he can. But his parents also want him to enjoy college and find true love, and while he’s been doing pretty well with the former, the latter has been on the backburner for, well, forever. Who has time for true love, in between classes, fraternity duties, the various shenanigans his friends get up to, internships, networking, TA-ing, volunteering, being on the executive board of two clubs, and eating, sleeping, dreaming, and thinking?

So. No. Things are not going anywhere in his love life, and he confirms just as much to Sunghoon with a grunt, to which Sunghoon wheezes out his amusement.

Jake eyes Jay with pity, now. “Alright, that guilt trip was successful, but more so because you just admitted to being bitchless for so long. I’ll put in a good word to my sister for you.”

Jay perks up instantly. There is light and beauty in this world after all! “Awesome, thank you bro, you won’t regret this, I promise!”

“I wasn’t planning on it, but those are famous last words, Park.” Jake raises an eyebrow at him. “Are you sure you can handle my sister?”

“Why not? She seems… nice.” Jay is slightly evasive in his answer, and truthfully, it’s because he isn’t really sure what you’re like. All your interactions to date have been cordial, almost business-like, and you and Jake are fraternal twins, so it’s not even like he’s really familiar with what you look like. He is, however, sure that you look beautiful in a ballgown, even if he only saw you in one in his frat’s kitchen.

Jake chortles outright. “No, my sister is not nice. Yeah, I’m definitely going to convince her to help you, just because I think it’ll be hysterical watching her turn you inside out. Good luck, my brother in Christ, because you’ll need it!”

[bratphilia]

his bunny (w. afton x reader)

request: "hii!! i have been obsessed with your lillard!afton fics lately and i just have to ask you to write another. i was wondering if you could do something like afab! reader is a student in college and william is her engineering professor? she is purposefully failing his class just to get his attention and some “extra credit”. but little does she know william has been obsessed with her ever since she stepped foot in his class. if it helps, teachers pet by melanie martinez could have a huge influence on this. thank you so so much!! ♡♡"

note: thank you so much, i'm glad you've been enjoying the content i've been putting out! fun fact i was obsessed with this song when k-12 first came out. also professor!william has been on my mind recently so i'm glad you requested this!! the e-mail section is a little awkward because i absolutely hate using "y/n"

pairing: steve raglan / william afton x reader

tags: age gap (reader is college age 18-21 and william is 45-50), creepy and stalking behavior from william, oral sex (m receiving), facial, dirty talk, slut-shaming, mean dom!william, desk sex

engineering. your worst class. not because you were bad at it or anything. it was all your professor.

and no, not because he's a bad teacher either. he's just so fucking hot it makes your brain go fuzzy every time he speaks. he lectures with his large hands enthusiastically. he always wears some form of purple on him, whether it's a tie or his slacks. everything about him is so intoxicating.

but he's never noticed you.

not when you try to catch his eye before and after class. not when you greet him with a "good morning, sir." and every time you've attended his office hours, a fucking ta helps you every single time. it's making you go crazy, not getting what you want.

you even started to wear increasingly skimpier outfits. you always stick to a theme of a sexy school girl, even going as far enough to buy more short skirts and thigh high socks or leg warmers. the buttons of the blouses you wear paired with them are always unbuttoned just to show a peak of cleavage. you ignore the hungry and curious eyes of your other peers as you walk by them; it's not their attention you want. still, you feel a little silly putting in all this effort just for him to barely grumble a reply back to you at your futile efforts to talk to him.

so you put a plan in action. you either purposefully turn in every piece of homework late and answer most, if not all, the questions of your quizzes and mid-term until you're sure you're at the very bottom of the class grades-wise.

in fact, you wake up the day after your mid-term to an e-mail from professor raglan. the subject was titled "Meeting Request" with your name addressed at the beginning.

"I would like to arrange a meeting with you to discuss the current state of your progress in my class. After your most recent assessment and previous assignments, I'm concerned about your future in my class if you continue the pattern I am seeing reflected in your work. Let me know if tonight at 5:00pm works for you.

Thank you,

Professor Raglan"

any regular person's heart would have sunk to the pit of their stomach if they received that e-mail. however, you are not a normal person. your heart fucking soars. you immediately jump to respond in confirmation.

professor raglan knows better than to get caught up with students, but he just can't help it! you're too beautiful to ignore.

the craziest part is he knows what game you're playing. the outfits that reflect nothing but a stereotypical, sexy school girl you would see in a porn video. and especially the way your grades have dropped recently, when you started off being one of the brightest students in his class.

over time, he noticed your lack of participation in class. at first, he chalked it up to something more serious, like personal issues. and then he noticed those lingering stares, the way you chew your pen, twirl your hair, and rub your thighs together. he knows exactly what you're doing, and he's been ignoring you on purpose. he wants you to chase after him, to let him know what you really want, but you just won't. he partially doesn't blame you either, it would be highly inappropriate for a student to engage that way towards their professor. so he ignores you during class. he barely acknowledges the way you've tried to grab his attention.

steve more than reciprocates your feelings. in fact, he's probably more enamored with you than you can possible imagine. he has all your homework, your essays, even your mid-term saved digitally in a folder, with your name as the title, on his computer. he reads looks over them when he's taking a break from grading as a way to detox, which sometimes ends up in him masturbating thinking about you. he loves to read the failed work from his dumb little bunny.

he even followed you home once. he kept close distance away from you, hiding in the shadows of every corner you turned. it's the william in him that wants that does the stalking, he convinces himself. the hyde to his jekyll; his true self coming to show in the role he plays of an average college professor, a totally normal guy with a few quirks.

your room, conveniently let him catch a peep of you touching yourself, and you swore you saw you mouth the word 'professor' when you brought yourself to orgasm.

and so he decides to play your little game. after all, you created the perfect opportunity for him, and he's going to take the bait.

steve sits at his desk, grading the rest of the mid-term papers, while he awaits your arrival. your own paper is sitting separate from the other stack, easily accessible so the two of you can get straight to "talking" about it as soon as possible.

he hears a tell-tale knock at his door, and he tries not to answer with a smile in his voice as he calls out, "come in."

you open the door gingerly, and it takes everything in him not to eye you up and down, but at first glance he knows you're in your usual get-up. it's a pretty little number; white, short-sleeved blouse, black pleated skirt that stops around mid-thigh, and white socks that reach just above your knees. you smile at him, hands clasped behind your back, puffing forward your chest slightly.

"good evening, professor raglan," you say in an oh-so innocent tone, "you wanted to speak with me?"

god, the way you call him professor goes straight to his cock. "yes. sit down," he tells you, gesturing towards the chair in front of his desk.

you sit down and your professor clasps his hands, leaning back in his chair. "i hope my e-mail didn't worry you. this will be quick."

he watches your face fall at his last few words and he has to bite back his amusement. "you see," he starts, taking your paper and pretending to look at your paper, "you didn't answer a single thing correctly. everything was wrong. it's funny, because i've heard nothing but good reports from the ta's that have helped you during office hours."

you lean closer as he continues. a plethora of excuses come to mind, none of which seem adequate for the situation he's putting it. "so i'm just wondering, how dumb do you think i am?"

your mouth slightly falls open. that was not the reaction you intended to invoke from him. "i—i can explain, i just need more—"

he rolls his eyes. "don't give me that. i'm not an idiot like you clearly are."

if anyone else had called you an idiot, you would have been offended, but from him? it goes straight to your pussy.

you purse your lips and rub your thighs together, waiting for him to continue to berate you. "is it extra credit you want?"

"yes, professor," you answer.

"then get on your knees, slut."

he rolls his chair back to make room for you and watches as you make your way in front of him. you get on your knees as he instructed, waiting expectantly.

"do i have to do everything for you?" he sighs in faux disappointment. he loves your shocked reaction that this is even really happening to you. "you wanted this so take my cock out."

"no, professor," you mumble, reaching for the buttons of his slacks. there's an obvious bulge tenting in his pants that almost makes you salivate.

you pull out his cock from his boxers and he shivers at how cold your hands are. you must be freezing wearing that outfit, he realizes. and, fuck, are your hands so much smaller that his. you begin by pumping him and then reach to kitten lick his tip.

you start to suck on the tip and he sucks air between his teeth sharply. it feels like heaven but he can't take your teasing anymore. he grasps your hair, making a make shift ponytail, and guides your mouth to slowly lower down on his cock. you moan around him causing a pleasurable vibration. he continues to use your hair as a way to control your mouth moving in a slow, up and down motion.

"ah — shit — stay still for me, yeah, baby?" he asks breathlessly. you do as he says, keeping your neck still as he begins to thrust into your mouth.

he bucks into you, grunting about what a "tight mouth you have" and how "you're such a dirty whore for your professor." you moan around his cock at his words, only encouraging his movements. the gurgling and gawk noises coming from your throat make him impossibly harder. the grasp on your hair becomes tighter and his thrusts more erratic. he's close.

before steve comes, he moves your mouth off and begins pumping himself. you watch him eagerly as he never breaks eye contact from you. when he does, it's when he shuts his eyes and groans, spurts of his come painting your face, your neck, and top.

you look so beautiful like this, he thinks, but it comes out as, "you look like such a messy whore."

you blush and lick the ejaculate around your mouth. steve grabs your hand and pulls you to your feet. you feel a little unstable but he's pushing you face forward against his desk. he lifts your skirt, which he doesn't bother taking off, only to reveal your thong. of course.

"were you expecting this?" he asks with a chuckle. he pulls your thong and lets it snap against your ass, making you yelp.

"no, but i came prepared," you say boldly.

he tsks. "such a slut."

steve prods his cock at your entrance, making you wiggle your hips when he slides it up and down your slit. you wish he would just stick it in already, but he's bent on teasing you until you can't take it anymore. he wants you to beg for him.

he moves your hair to the side to whisper in your ear. "tell me what you want, bunny."

you whimper at the close proximity. you can feel his beard brushing against your cheek. "need your cock, sir. been wanting it for awhile."

"oh, i know," he says, and you can feel the smile spreading across his face. "just wanted to hear you say it."

with that he presses inside of you, filling you up inch by inch, agonizingly slow. you whine desperately, wanting more. your fingers dig into the desk. he slips out for a moment and slams back in, filling you to the hilt. from that point forward, he starts thrusting at gradually faster pace.

the room is obscenely filled with the sounds of both of your pants and the sounds of skin slapping against skin. he punctuates every thrust with a degrading phrase. it gets you even hotter.

before you know it you're close. clawing behind you, desperate to grab something, he takes both of your hands and holds them against the desk, giving a flurry of hard, fast thrusts. moans and whines tumble from your lips as you feel your body completely captured by an orgasm that makes you weak in the knees.

steve pulls out and comes on your back with a groan himself, incoherently slurring words of "whore" "slut" and "dumb bunny." he buries his face in the crook of your neck, attitude completely doing a 360.

"you did so well for me, sweetheart."

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 282: Aizawa Defeeted

Previously on BnHA: Oh my god do we even care about that at this point. Tomura made a speech; Gran Torino died; Deku lost his shit and tried to strangle Tomura to death with his bare hands; Ryuukyuu came back from Wherever She Was and tried to grab Tomura but he punched a hole through her giant hand; and now he’s grabbing his Quirk-Be-Gone bullets and is ready to cause some mayhem okay?? That about sum it up?? Is anyone even reading this?? CAN WE JUST GET ON WITH IT I’VE WAITED AN ENTIRE WEEK.

Today on BnHA: Well I guess let’s start with what doesn’t happen: Bakugou doesn’t lose his quirk. HE LUCKED OUT!!... for now, anyways. Because, thanks to a near-impossible-to-predict series of events (seriously, raise your hands if you had “Aizawa gets shot but goes full World War Z on his own ass” on your bingo card), Tomura has seemingly regained his regeneration powers, which means that his other quirks are probably back online as well! So we’ll see how that all goes. Anyway so in the meantime Shouto’s back, looking very mad that everyone temporarily forgot he was a main character. And Gigantomachia is back as well! Or almost, anyway. Also, you’ll never guess who broke another one of his arms! Go on, guess. But at least he still has the arm, though, which is more than we can say for certain other people’s limbs. Poor Aizawa is literally on his last leg. He and Tomura really got off on the wrong foot. He chopped his leg off, is what I’m saying. It’s that kind of chapter folks.

you guys I’m losing my whole fucking mind. I straight up deleted the tumblr app off my phone for 24 hours so that I wouldn’t be tempted to log in and risk potentially being spoiled. and I’m happy to say that it worked! so here we are now, completely spoiler free, and let me just say that if Horikoshi decides to cut back to Gunga Mountain now, I will either cry for hours or abandon the series forever and go do something more productive with the rest of my quarantine like learning how to play sad songs on the guitar

all right. here goes

so we’re opening with Deku, who is currently comprised of 100% rage and 0% mercy, and is doing that thing where only the whites of his eyes are visible. and basically he’s just thinking “I’VE REALLY GOT TO HOLD ON TO THIS GUY AND MAKE SURE HE DOESN’T DO ANYTHING ELSE HOMICIDAL.” which is a solid game plan, but perhaps not so easily accomplished

-- oh my god this poor kid is still in denial, I can’t. why are you doing this

is there even still a Gran Torino to tend to at this point? after Tomura bulldozed a hole through his torso, and you went and finished the job with your own fucking attack? sob

but I guess the law of Tragic Shounen Mentor Deaths mandates that Gran’s should be at least as drawn-out as Nighteye’s was, though. so he’s probably only Mostly Dead, which is still Slightly Alive if I remember my Princess Bride correctly, and I think I do

so now the rest of these stooges are finally catching up with us here

yes, my friends. a bullet. WELCOME TO MY LIFE FOR THE PAST FUCKING WEEK. anyways I have a LOT of pent-up energy here just fyi. there may be a lot of unnecessary screaming in this recap

FUCKING WYOMING SMASH Y’ALLSSSS

I HAVE NO FUCKING IDEA WHAT JUST HAPPENED SOB. DID HE JUST HAMMER FIST TOMURA’S HEAD INTO THE GROUND. DID HE SNAP HIS FUCKING NECK AT 100%. IN AN IDEAL WORLD HE WOULD HAVE JUST CHOPPED TOMURA’S ARMS OFF WHILE SOMEHOW MANAGING TO AVOID BREAKING ANY OF HIS OWN BONES IN THE PROCESS, BUT I HAVE A FEELING THIS SITUATION WILL NOT BE RESOLVED IN ANY KIND OF MANNER ONE WOULD CONSIDER “IDEAL”

(ETA: fun fact: this attack did absolutely nothing except make things approximately 100x worse. but you tried Deku. you tried.)

THE FUCK KIND OF PORTENTOUS BULLSHITTING TITLE IS THIS. OH MY GOD, I DON’T EVEN KNOW WHAT EMOTION I’M HAVING RIGHT NOW, IT’S JUST A LOT OF LOUD THOUGHTS

anyway so if you’re just joining us, Tomura just pulled two bullets out of his pocket, the good guys finally noticed, and then Deku did a smash and everything exploded. the radius of this attack actually looks wide enough to have potentially involved Aizawa, who probably does NOT want to get any debris in his eyes right now, and also Gran, who probably doesn’t particularly want to be hit by another deadly attack for the third time in the past ninety seconds. anyway so I guess what I’m trying to say here is WHAT WAS THE POINT OF THAT YOU LITTLE GREEN LUNATIC

AHHHHHH

he got the one!! the one that was in Tomura’s right hand!! but what about the one in his left ahhhhhhh

(ETA: lmao at Kacchan being the one to blow up the same bullet I was so sure he was going to be shot with. saw the writing on the wall, huh kid? what do we say to the god of foreshadowing?? ‘NOT TODAY.’ ...except that we’re still not actually out of the woods yet so you still better watch yourself lol.)

...

based on the font here, these are Tomura’s thoughts. which he is thinking immediately after getting the lower half of his jaw very painfully cronched by the VERY homicidal sixteen-year-old still clinging to him. anyway so Tomura’s thought processes are as inscrutable to me as ever lulz

and Deku’s arm looks broken again, yaaaaay. but at least it’s his left arm and not his right! so that’s nice. now they can match

[SHRIEKS]

HE YEETED IT. IT HAS BEEN YEETEDED. HE DID A YEET. [sobbing] he DiD a YeEt oH my GOD

DID IT HIT SOMETHING!?!?!?

my reading process here is as follows: 1) scroll down exactly one panel. 2) scream even though absolutely nothing has happened yet. 3) WRITE THAT DOWN 4) REPEAT

DKSFJLKHSDLGKHLI

DID IT HIT HIM!?!? DID IT GET HIM IN THE LEG SOB ARE YOU FUCKING SERIOUS. JUST LIKE THAT?? BOOM GUN BULLET LEG!!?

YOU GUYS IT REALLY HIT AIZAWA AND NO ONE DID A GODDAMN THING?? it wasn’t even drawn out or anything??? it just HAPPENED, within like four pages??? NO SLOW MO?? NOT EVEN A REACTION PANEL WHAT THE FUCK

son of a bitch I would so dearly like to grab Manual and RockLockRock’s heads right now and just conk them together real hard. YOU STUPID FUCKS sob YOU HAD ONE JOB!!! IT REALLY WAS JUST ONE!! AND YOU WERE SHARING IT!! SO IT’S MORE LIKE HALF A JOB!! AND YOU STILL COCKED IT UP IN ABSOLUTELY NO TIME AT ALL OH MY GOD

(ETA: they should blow this panel up and make it into a t-shirt and make Manual and RLR wear the shirts every day for the rest of their lives. half a job, you guys. please go away I cannot even look at you right now.)

FUCK MY EVERYTHING

(ETA: I still can’t figure out if this horrific angle is due to the earlier damage from the Noumu, or if Tomura really just flung the bullet THAT hard. honestly I’m surprised it didn’t just slice right through him with that kind of velocity. “no thanks because then I wouldn’t get to write a scene where he chops his own leg off” oh okay well when you put it that way, Horikoshi.)

if I recall correctly this is the leg that he said was “twisted”, no? yeesh. might just want to chop it off real quick, then. s’not like it’s doing you any more good. does anyone know if zombie rules apply or not with this sort of thing?? shit

?!?!

“THANKS”?? okay what. did it hit him or not??

-- oh my god WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT. WAIT

I WAS -- I WAS JOKING I -- FFFFFFFFKJK

jesus fucking christ. when I said “might just want to chop it off real quick” literally FOUR PARAGRAPHS AGO, I can tell you that the one thing I did NOT expect was for Aizawa to be all, “you know what, that’s a good idea”, and then YOINK OUT HIS TRUSTY HERO SHANK AND GO FULL 127 HOURS ON THIS BITCH. "LALALA WE’RE GONNA DO IT RATIONALLY TEEHEE” like excuse me, the fuck

anyways. I don’t even know what to say. thank you Aizawa’s leg for your sacrifice, and for always supporting him. literally. oh my god I came here ready for my son to enter a new phase of character development, and for the manga as a whole to enter a new phase of glorious, glorious angst. no one told me I’d be sitting here making puns instead. what a fine, confusing day

anyway though let’s just fucking hope it worked. and side note, if Aizawa Shouta really did chop off his own fucking leg just now and somehow STILL managed not to fucking blink, I think we might as well just go ahead and hand him the Biggest Badass In The Series award right now because no one is ever going to top that. nope. not happening

it is truly a testament to Shigaraki Tomura’s unfathomably mysterious sexy villain energy that he still somehow manages to look hot with only half a face

also no one in this manga actually feels pain, do they. not Deku, not Aizawa, not Tomura, no one. no wonder none of them have any self-preservation instincts to speak of

um

did someone just randomly explode just now. at this point it might as well happen, right

oh it’s the shockwave from Deku’s Wyoming attack, apparently. how nice of it to have a delayed reaction for absolutely no reason

anyway so Deku’s being flung back, but he’s grabbing onto Tomura again with Blackwhip. but oh shit you guys, if Tomura escapes Deku and Ryuukyuu’s clutches and still has any bullets left in his pocket, we may still be able to salvage this Bakugou quirk situation after all. would be nice to be able to actually do something with all of these “happy quirk losing day” balloons that I ordered

(ETA: actually, believe it or not I honestly like this better. Tomura using AFO was always the more dramatic option anyway. and now that we’ve done the bullet thing everyone has presumably let their guard down again, which, good.)

I love how Tomura apparently hasn’t noticed that Aizawa’s just amputated his own leg? to be fair he’s probably distracted by all the explosions and such

also gotta love how Deku’s arm-breaking attack seemingly just made everything worse for no reason. and also how Manual and RockLockRock are once again just standing there doing absolutely nothing

SO NOW GUESS WHAT’S HAPPENING

I MEAN IT! GUESS. BECAUSE YOUR GUESS IS AS GOOD AS MINE LOL

OH WELL OKAY THEN

just like we all saw coming!! ...

so is this Endeavor’s attack?? Bakugou’s?? either way, hot damn. fortunately for Tomura he is apparently operating under the same guidelines as the U.S. Federal Reserve, in which mutilated bills may still be exchanged at face value if more than 50% of a note identifiable as United States currency is present. basically as long as roughly half of him is still vaguely Tomura-shaped I assume he’ll be fine

(ETA: in hindsight I should have immediately been able to identify this as a Shouto attack based solely on how murdery it was lol.)

OH MY GODDDD

KRANCH?!?

OH MY GOD LOL WHAT. LOL. REMEMBER EVERYONE’S THEORIES FROM LIKE TWENTY YEARS AGO LOL. SHOUTO WHAT THE FUCK. DID YOU STOP FOR DRIVE THRU

AND MEANWHILE DEKU’S BACK ON THE SCENE GIVING ARGUABLY EVEN LESS FUCKS THAN BEFORE, IF SUCH A THING IS EVEN POSSIBLE. SO FAR THIS CHAPTER HAS PRECISELY ZERO THINGS THAT I ACTUALLY EXPECTED IN IT, WHICH IS VERY IMPRESSIVE

IT ALSO HAS A LOT OF SMASHING

a LOT. of smashing, guys. feels like... 60% smashing, 20% severed legs, 20% Kranch

-- oh no oh SHIT oh shit oh shit

(ETA: um so I really can’t tell how far that wound extends and whether or not Aizawa still has his right eye, shit.)

first of all how did Deku get here next to Aizawa when he was just over there with Tomura, what. and second, I think Aizawa just blinked, oh shit. probably on the verge of passing out after CHOPPING HIS OWN LEG OFF which STILL hasn’t been acknowledged yet?? did I just completely misinterpret all of that back there or what

(ETA: there was seriously so little attention called to this that I scrolled back up to confirm it probably like half a dozen times. apparently Horikoshi thinks that THE MOST BADASS THING TO EVER HAPPEN IN THE MANGA should be completely downplayed. whereas if it were me, there’d be an entire two page spread of JUST THE LEG. WITH MUSIC PLAYING. EVEN THOUGH IT’S A MANGA.)

YEPPPPPPP. fuck

look at him though. he’s so happy. this is why I can’t stay mad at you no matter how deranged you get you little maniac

so is quirk-stealing back on the menu then or what. don’t think I’ve been lulled into any kind of false sense of security by any of this lol

-- ARE WE SERIOUSLY CUTTING AWAY

so Todoroki really went after them ALONE. the better to put his dad right back up at the top of the Lose Your Quirk Sweepstakes finalists. well... second-to-top, maybe. like I said I will not be lulled

yuh-oh

why do I feel like the odds of Gigantomachia arriving to herald the end of this chapter just shot up DRAMATICALLY

so the next page is almost entirely just a list of cities that the news anchor is telling people to evacuate because they’re in Machia’s path. along with a bunch of dead heroes lying around everywhere, and Ochako being all ominous

(: weren’t they, though? heh. this is going to be so, so bad (: (: (:

-- fuuuuuuuuuuu

aaaaaand that’s it. hahahaha. okay then let’s summarize

Bakugou defied all expectations and kept his quirk (FOR NOW)!

Aizawa cut his own fucking leg off and it WASN’T EVEN REMOTELY ACKNOWLEDGED FOR REASONS I CAN’T UNDERSTAND (R.I.P. AIZAWA’S PRECIOUS LEG. YOU ALWAYS PUT YOUR BEST FOOT FORWARD)

Kranch showed up after 157 years and is probably wondering why the heck I keep calling him “Kranch” now. THINGS CHANGE WHEN YOU’RE MIA FOR A WHILE MY LITTLE STARBUCKS CHRISTMAS CUP

Deku broke his arm for the 78th time

Tomura regenerated but seems to think Aizawa’s quirk is actually gone for good, which I’m pretty sure it’s not. so if they can keep him from destroying everything long enough for Aizawa to turn it back on again, we might possibly still survive this

and lastly, Machia is about to kill all of these stupid people frolicking around outside of this fitness club who are probably so proud of themselves for not being glued to their phones 24/7 because they prefer to LIVE LIFE IN THE MOMENT, THANK YOU VERY MUCH. well that’s on you my friends. at least it’ll be a quick death. ffff

[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 11

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

Title: Dreams, Chapter 11

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 2616

Summary: Another dream makes things more clear for the reader and less clear for Sam.

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, s l o w  b u r n

           The booths are those plastic-coated pressboard swoops that are so easy to clean, one row down either side of the long room once you walk past the counter to order. Like other pizza places, there are red pepper flakes and grated parmesan on the table, but they also keep ranch dressing in a minifridge behind the counter as a concession to Midwestern sensibilities. You know you’re just outside Dayton just like you know the pizza shop is run by a family, father and two older teenage daughters deftly throwing dough and scattering cheese evenly over it in a way that shows their years of practice. Dean sits across the table with his elbows on it, one forefinger and thumb picking through a plate of nachos between you. His black t-shirt, amulet, and lack of flannel make you notice the hum of the air conditioner in the background, straining over the 90’s alternative radio and reminding you that you’d been here in a heat stroke the summer after you and Dean had gotten together, his golden freckles and lightened tips of his slightly messy hair underlining the memory.

           “They don’t serve nachos here.” It’s half statement and half question.

           “Babe, it’s your dream. They’ll serve whatever you want. Does the pizza suck in Wisconsin or something?”

           The two sisters are whispering to each other as they look over at your table, an almost-argument that ends with who you suspect is the older sister poofing a pinch of flour into the other’s face. They’re both cute girls but she’s adorable, soft cherubic cheeks and messy bun piling impossibly glossy hair on her head as she walks over to the table with a gigantic pizza. “Can I get you anything else?” she asks in a perfect welcoming cheerleader pitch.

           “I think we’re good for now, sweetheart,” Dean purrs with a wink. That you remember; you’d playfully chastised Dean for dazzling the teens, laughing in his face when he’d said it wasn’t on purpose, that he couldn’t help it if chicks dug him. The wink had proved your point then and now it makes the girl’s cheeks flush red.

           She catches herself remarkably well, the stammer almost slipping under the radar as she assures you that you can “holler if you need anything!”

           Dean brushes his fingers free of nacho debris and loosens a piece of pizza from the melting cheese of the ones next to it. “Last time you had all kinds of sweet nothings and questions for me and now you’re Silent Cal?”

           “I don’t think this is real, but I’m pretty sure if I push it you’ll either die in this dream or I’ll wake up, so my plan is to stay here as long as we can.”

           He drops the pizza back into the box and wipes off his fingers on a napkin before slouching into the booth, arm stretched across its length. “So test me then. Gimme a question only I would know or something.”

           “Well if I ask you something that I know the answer to, my brain will just project you knowing it. See the problem?”

           Dean squints and pouts in consideration, touch of a smile dancing across his face and if it isn’t the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen may you be struck dead right now. “Then ask me something you don’t know the answer to.”

           You think about explaining how that too could just be some part of your subconscious recreation of Dean but you don’t want to keep pulling at loose strings in the event that it wakes you up. It’s too hard to keep from smiling, seeing Dean charming and relaxed like this, and when you grin it makes Dean bite his lip. “What’s something I don’t know the answer to?”

           “Ah, ah—I thought I’m just a hologram, how would I know?”

           “Projection, but okay,” you stall. “Wait, here’s one. Sam said when I first started going on jobs with you guys that you had to have a conversation about staying focused. What was that all about?”

           He runs his tongue along the inside of his lower lip. “Man, why would he tell you that?” he says under his breath, smirking mostly to himself before leaning forward to meet your eyes. “Fine. I’m not even sure that you’re going to remember this. There was a vengeful spirit in Indiana, some like homesteader guy, ring a bell?”

           You have only the vaguest sense of recollection and sort of waggle your head to show it.

           “It was way at the beginning of when you started coming on jobs with us. You and Bobby got into it because he wanted you to bring your own car so you could ditch us if we were ‘acting like cretins’ or some shit like that?”

           That fits the last puzzle piece in for you and makes you chuckle. “He ended up giving me like $250 of mad money in case I needed a new room or a bus ticket, yeah. I remember.”

           “I didn’t know that part but that’s gotta be the same trip. The whole thing was really stupid. Basically we were supposed to have your six but both me and Sammy wanted to carry a shotgun instead of doing that protection spell because it looked cooler. We were arguing about it when the spirit whipped a chunk of the barn’s scaffolding at you and we didn’t catch it in time. You heard it coming and ducked so nothing ended up happening, but it fucking demolished the wall behind you. It was a huge fuckup—thing could’ve taken your head clean off, you know? Sam was so broken up about it he was wasted for like a week solid after we dropped you back off at Bobby’s.”

           “Really? That doesn’t sound like him at all.”

           “I know, usually he does some kind of pouty baby bullshit. But I mean both of us felt really guilty that bitching at each other could’ve taken you out.”

           Dean’s eyes rake over your face, seeming to linger over every inch like he’s going to draw a topographical map of it later by memory. You can tell he’s waiting for you to say something but you can’t think of anything other than tracing each of his freckles where they dust across his nose.

           A hand reaches over the table to run his fingertips along the back of yours, and that certainly feels real enough to send an ache into your gut. “What if you ask Sam? If he says that’s not what happened then you can keep saying I’m not real and you don’t have to listen to me.”

           “But he already basically told me that. The only thing I probably wouldn’t have guessed about that is Sam getting drunk about it—these could’ve been just well-informed guesses about when it probably was or the kinds of things it seemed like he was implying.”

           His lips press into a firm line and the barest touch of pink rises in his cheeks. “We, um, we pinky swore on it.”

           The adorableness of his embarrassment makes you grin teasingly as much as the divulgence does. “A pinky promise? You guys must’ve been pretty serious to take such a sacred oath.”

           He rolls his eyes at your ribbing and throws his hands back in his lap with a defeated smirk. “Laugh it up. Would that be good enough proof for you?”

           It seems like Dean has figured out a loophole in the system, but you’re sure the light of day and Sam’s scrutiny will figure out why it isn’t actual evidence of communication with Dean beyond death, and you tell him that.

           A curtain of suspicious confusion falls over Dean’s face. “Sam being weird about it is what’s keeping you from trusting this? Kid, I’ve been talking to Sa—”

           And you woke up.

           The bed was empty next to you but you could smell something sweet in the air and hear the light clinking of pots or pans Sam was trying his best to keep quiet. You blinked back a few tears of frustration—who even cared if it was real or not? Reliving a great memory with Dean was more than enough and instead of enjoying it you’d wasted a chance at some small respite from your constant ache of grief. And even then, you hadn’t used any of your time to figure out how the whole thing worked, how you could see him again.

           But the most pressing issue was what you thought Dean had been trying to say before disappearing; that he had gotten through to Sam. Sam, of course, deserved to have secrets, but if he had been sitting on the resolution to all the angst you’d been struggling through in the last weeks (months?), you couldn’t imagine a reason why that wouldn’t hurt. Nothing would be solved by laying in your bed to sulk about it, though, so you threw on some clothes and went to brush your teeth.

           When you came out, Sam was hunched slightly, the standard stove highlighting his decidedly non-standard height as he shuffled a pan’s handle. He had a dishtowel over his t-shirt clad shoulder, a habit from the bar that sometimes held over when he was in the kitchen at home, and bare feet under old jeans. They were wearing through at the knees, and you knew they were absolutely pajama-soft from having periodically thrown them in with your own laundry. Through the kitchen window, enough snow-brightened sunlight came into the room to cast him in a halo glow that gleamed off of his hair. As long as it had gotten, chunks still swept into his face as he looked down at the stove, and he tucked one behind his ear as he looked up, half-singing a Buddy Guy song that was playing softly. It was stunning—he was stunning, statuesque and strong and right there in front of you. Cooking you breakfast while you slept in, of all things, chocolate chip pancakes he had to have remembered were your favorite from ages ago. You couldn’t even remember the last time you’d had them and right now, nothing in the world sounded better. He beamed and tilted the pan toward you. “Morning! I made pancakes, you want some?”

           And you should’ve just let the moment rest, sat in the rare bright winter morning and eaten chocolate chip pancakes and relished how well the boiler was working, maybe later in the day read a predictable murder mystery or taped off the living room to be painted and listened to REM until your shoulders were sore from running rollers up the walls all afternoon. Instead, about as stupid and weird a flop as if a toad had come out of your mouth, you said, “Have you been talking to Dean too?”

           Sam’s face fell but not in the right way. There was too much angle in his brow and that confirmed it. “What?” he asked, but it didn’t land.

           “How long have you been talking to Dean?”

           He kept that curious smile for a second, like maybe he could push through by playing dumb and you would forget, but finally his lips flattened and his jaw clenched as he stacked a finished pancake on top of its predecessors. “Just because I’m having dreams about him doesn’t mean it’s really him,” he finally answered, softly and as though he was telling the bubbling pancake batter in front of him, unable to meet your eyes.

           You felt the lump forming in your throat and tried to get the words out ahead of its solidifying. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

           “For what?” He let go of the pan and turned toward you, supporting his weight on the countertop. “So we can both—”

           “Both what? Be delusional? Is that what you were going to say?”

           Sam didn’t answer, but the set of his jaw was firm and he kept his eyes locked on yours.

           “He told me you were drunk for a week after the hunt you were talking about.” You watched as Sam’s pupils widened a touch. “And that you didn’t just promise each other to buckle down, you pinky swore.” Sam’s Adam’s apple jumped in his throat. “It’s true, isn’t it? I can see in your face that it is. Did you already know it’s really him?”

           He looked down at the floor and clenched his jaw. “I was pretty sure. Or at least I really hoped I was pretty sure.”

           You felt more than consciously allowed your mouth’s falling open. “How? How long?”

           “It just—I don’t know, it just felt different. I—uh, the first time was after we made those cupcakes; he asked about the cupcakes.”

           You slumped against the countertop opposite him, speechless. He shoved the pan off the hot burner a little too hard, put a palm on either side of the stove to brace himself. The two of you stood like that for a long minute, the smell of chocolate not matching the stiff heaviness in the air at all.

           “I don’t—what if it’s not real?” His throat sounded bound even though you couldn’t see his face, hulking mass of him spread across the tiny kitchen.

           He seemed so defeated, so young, and then you couldn’t believe how selfish you’d been, not putting two and two together that something challenging Sam’s grip on or understanding of reality must shove him back to the brain melting torture he’d endured in the cage and the months—years, maybe, he was always so tight-lipped about it—afterward. What the fuck were you thinking, not seeing it before, how this could seem like a perfectly laid trap for Sam, the most poetic way to whip his mind into stiff peaks of meringue. It made so much sense why he would need time to really suss it out, see the situation from all angles and investigate, check and re-check. Tears pricked the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away. This was not about you or your complicated need for him, it was about Sam, what he’d been through, what he was likely putting himself through even now.

           “The, um, the pancakes smell really good.”

           “Yeah?” There was half a laugh behind his words, humorless as it was. “I hope they’re okay, I know they’re your, uh, your favorite.”

           “I’m surprised you remembered.”

           Sam leaned on one arm to rub his face with his other hand. “Yeah, well.”

           “Can I help?”

           After a beat, he stood up and offered some space next to him on the stove. You worked hip to hip, sprinkling the chocolate chips while Sam flipped. He was scraping the last of the batter into a last little runt pancake with a spatula when you couldn’t help yourself and wrapped your arms around his waist. He seemed surprised, if sad, before setting down the bowl and covering as much of you as he could, folding over you like a protective shell. It reminded you of that dirty motel room, months and months ago, when Sam held you together as you cracked in his arms. All he could do then was be steadfast in reminding you he was still there, if nothing else was, and you hoped you were able to give him the same now.

           You silently laid two place settings on the kitchen counter while Sam set the food out. He sat next to you and had picked up his fork when you touched his wrist to still him. “If it’s not real for you then I’m losing it too.”

           Sam thought for a second, then raised his forearm and kissed the back of your hand where you held onto him before cutting into his pancakes.

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 12

Thanks again for reading! If you liked it, check out my Masterlist or send me a request!

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[tallycraven]

fic title: coffin song

puvoohighiuhfgkjhjk vampire au w/ human raelle. 

scylla’s a vampire. not young, but not as old and cranky as all her superiors.

no, she’s barely one hundred years old. she’s seen her share of war, famine, pestilence, death, yadda yadda yadda. 

it all means nothing to her in the grand scheme of immortality. 

her sire, anacostia, thinks she’s selfish. 

she’s right, of course, not that scylla would ever admit it. 

she gets in trouble with her coven for nearly draining some boy completely one night and gets put on a house arrest of sorts. no going out alone, no feeding from unverified sources, and absolutely-under-any-and-all-circumstances no day-walking. 

scylla’s half convinced they’re just jealous that she’s still young enough to be able to walk in the sun (albeit with limited powers).

but she listens. because house arrest is still better than getting sent to some hellish sect of their coven up in the arctic circle.

she makes friends with another young vampire by the name of tally.

younger, newly transferred from their sister coven in california so that she could study telepathy under anacostia.

scylla does admit, though, that for someone who was turned at the start of the cold war, tally seems to have the wisdom of those much older than either of them.

they spend most of their time reading and doing things in the large mansion to pass time.

there are only so many books and chess games you can play before even your undead brain turns to rotted pulp, though.

scylla convinces tally to sneak out with her once.

“we don’t even have to do anything! i just want to see people and maybe glamour some idiot into buying me a drink!”

“i don’t know, scylla.”

“just, tell anacostia you’ll watch me and we can go out for a walk.”

“scylla...”

“one walk!”

“.... fine.”

anacostia gives them strict rules that all boil down to: no fun allowed.

she also makes scylla swear on her fangs that she will not come within contact of any mortal, especially young humans.

tally seems satisfied with that, because she just grabs scylla’s wrist and drags her out before she can complain.

it’s not much, but scylla enjoys being able to stretch her legs somewhere other than the mansion grounds-- there’s more life out here in the town square. 

even tally seems to be enjoying the change in scenery, smiling and waving to the dogs that are being walked.

“if you think about it, the dogs are kind of walking the humans.”

“what?” 

“who’s deriving more joy out of it, the dog or the human?”

“what?”

tally doesn’t give scylla a real explanation and scylla gives up on the second try. 

they don’t have to eat or drink,  but both of them agree that those fun frosted treats at the coffee shop taste leaps and bounds better than blood.

so they stop by a place to grab something, but scylla is ordered to stay outside.

the idea of being told what to do by someone half a century younger than her is upsetting, but scylla obeys because she really wants to be able to go for walks outside again after this.

tally strolls inside with her order and scylla plops down onto a bench, legs crossed and fingers tapping on the centuries-old medallion that she wears around her neck when she sees her.

or.. smells, rather.

a lithe blonde, barely taller than herself, dressed down in black pants, a white shirt, and a baggy jacket that looks like it was handed down. 

she smells like pine and firewood with something uniquely citrusy at the bottom of it all-- it’s oddly entrancing. scylla finds that she can’t look away.

she’s crossing the street alone, attention too focused on the phone in her hand to see the car charging down the street in her direction with no signs of stopping.

time slows and scylla is presented with a choice.

she’s seen multiple humans die of careless mistakes like this, has never felt the need to step in to stop them. 

she doesn’t know why her legs move before she even consciously makes the decision, but before she knows it, she’s stood up with supernatural speed and has tackled the other girl out of the way, skidding to a stop on the hard concrete sidewalk.

“ow.” says the body beneath her. “what the fuck are you made of? marble?”

scylla finds herself speechless for the first time in a long time. caught between regret for breaking anacostia’s rules and fascination with the stranger pinned under her. 

scylla doesn’t get much chance to explain her way out of the situation, because before she knows it, she’s being pulled off the girl by a panicked and angry tally and dragged away.

and despite her age, her self-proclaimed wisdom, her maturity and wit.

the last thing she says to the stranger is, “nice to meet you!”

raelle’s head hurts. it’d been hurting all day, but it hurts extra hard now that she was just tackled to the ground by a gorgeous stranger.

she sits up, rubbing her temple and trying to see where her savior is getting dragged off to, but is barely able to get two words out before she rounds a corner and disappears.

she feels something in her lap and looks down at the object that the other person must’ve dropped when she saved raelle. 

it’s an old, weird looking medallion on a leather cord. heavy and worn enough that raelle’s pretty sure it’s not just some cool prop from hot topic.

“come back!” she shouts in the direction the girl disappeared. “you forgot your... super weird cult necklace.”

[orange-waterfalls]

Say It Back(Part 1/2)

Host x gender neutral!reader

@thekillingjoke-haha ty for the request!

Part 2

A/N: BRO I FUCKIN LOVE THIS ONE. I was on a writer's block and then CAVETOWN MY LORD AND SAVIOR apparently made a song called "Sweet Tooth". I took a lil bit of inspiration from the chorus(hence, the title). You took inspiration from a song, so did I lol. It took me a bit to find the mood for the story, but once I found it I couldn't stop lol. So. Two-parter. Uh a bit of cursing, Rated T. Slight angst for a minute. The names I used are not people I actually know, they're from a random name generator website. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.0k

Requests are open!

--

The Host stares at them from across the room.

Well… less ‘stares’ and more ‘keeps his head facing their general direction’. Even so.

They are beautiful. Even with the loss of his sight, he knew they were beautiful. On the inside, at least. He smiles in content as he hears their angelic laugh from across the room. Bing is making jokes again. The Host might’ve been jealous if he were a lesser man and if he weren’t so focused on how their happiness made him happy.

He doesn’t very much understand what he is experiencing. He’d seen movies, he’d read books, he’d listened to songs. He knows what love is. He knows it well.

What it feels like, however, was a completely different ballgame.

Host more focused on his work than on romance. Besides, he just doesn’t like people. He wanted to fall in love at times, but he just couldn’t.

Y/N on the other hand makes him… feel things. He’s not sure if it’s love, he just knows he really enjoys everything they do.

He doesn’t even care that they barely talk to him anymore.

Well… he cares, obviously, but…

You understand, don’t you? Good.

“Host? Hooost. Host!” A voice calls from his side. He hums in response. Bim rolls his eyes and leans back in his chair. “Have you been listening to me for the past ten minutes?”

“No,” Host answers flatly. Bim smiles when he looks over to where Host was facing.

"So you've finally realized you have a crush?" He teased. Host raises his eyebrows.

"Finally?"

"Oh, yeah. We’ve known this, Host, it's really obvious." Host furrows his eyebrows.

"We? What does Bim mean by ‘we’?" They hear footsteps and turn towards the front.

Y/N standing in front of the two, a small, awkward smile on their face.

"Hey," Y/N greets softly. The Host is frozen in place.

"Hey!" Bim says, a wicked grin on his face as he sees the effect on Host. "Didya need something?"

"Yeah, um… Bing told me to ask you where Wilford would be…"

"Oh, well I know nothing about Wilford. I don't think anyone does," Bim explained. “But Host here knows everything, so…” Host turned to Bim angrily. He turns back to Y/N when he hears them clear their throat.

“So, uh, Host?” They ask. Host has to keep himself from shivering at the sound of his name.

“Hm?”

“Where is Wilford?”

“W-Wilford is d-down th-the hall… uh, t-to th-the right f-from the b-bathroom…” Host stutters out, voice cracking once or twice. Y/N smiles and nods in thanks before remembering Host is, in fact, blind.

“Uh, thank you…” They laugh, embarrassed. Host tries to give a small smile. His face isn’t used to that yet, so he settles for a nod. They walk away, and he increasingly becomes more sad and more embarrassed as their footsteps fade away.

“Wow,” Bim laughs, “For a narrator, you can’t talk very well, can you?”

“That is not true, the Host can talk very well…” He pauses, “When he is not around Y/N…”

“Oh, so it’s just them, huh?”

“Yes, they very much affect Host and he isn’t quite sure he likes it…” Bim smiles at Host. “What is the problem with Bim Trimmer?”

“There’s no problem, Host, I’m just happy for you!”

“Why would Bim be happy that Host cannot speak correctly?”

“Because you’re in love, dumbass!” Host would have found the insult very… well… insulting if he hadn’t become distracted by the previous phrase.

‘Because you’re in love’. Was Host in love? He wasn’t sure what that felt like.

There was Serena Munoz in kindergarten. They dated for a couple days. She didn’t like how he read constantly, and decided to break up with him. Host wasn’t in love with Serena. He wasn’t even sure he had a crush on her. Maybe he dated her just because she asked. It didn’t affect him when they broke up.

Then there was Jesse Snow in the sixth grade. He was nice. Trumpet player in the band. They liked to read together in the library at lunch and after school. They recommended books to each other and even wrote a couple stories together. They sat next to each other in math and passed notes in cryptography so the teacher wouldn’t understand. They would, though. But Jesse was scared. Two boys dating in middle school? Not the best for his image. He probably got teased or called gay(which he was) and that’s why they broke up. He liked Jesse. He was sad when they stopped talking. But he didn’t think that was love. It was more of a ‘like’ than anything.

Then Asa Holmes in his senior year of highschool. They were really different. They had blue hair, but he could see the natural-brown in the roots. They wore a lot of black and spikes and chains. They listened to punk rock and heavy metal. Host liked the heavy metal more, so they listened to that more often. They did homework together at Asa’s house, and Asa would start dancing halfway through and it kind of annoyed Host, but he also found it endearing. Then they graduated and promised to keep in touch, but Asa just… couldn’t. Host understood, and they stopped. He was disappointed, but he wasn’t in love with them.

Is this what love feels like? Is it a weird feeling in your stomach when you look at this one person? Is it your heart racing when you see them laugh? Is it hyperventilating when they come over to talk to you? Is that what love is?

Oh.

Oh no.

Host is in love.

Y/N had managed to weasel their way into the dark and lonely place in his soul and fill it with hope and joy and love.

And, oh, how he absolutely loves you.

And what the hell is he supposed to do about that?

--

“Uh, Host?” Bim calls after 20 minutes of silence from the writer. “Are uh… are you okay?”

“No,” Host answers instantly.

“Uh… why not?”

“Because… Host is in love…” Bim is quiet for a second and Host worries he’s gone Deaf as well. But Bim lets out a loud laugh that startles Host.

“Bing! Get your ass over here, you owe me $30!” Bim yells. Bing groans and drags his feet over to them, mumbling as he takes the money out of his wallet. Host begins to zone out, all the noise around him fading into nothing.

Host was… in love. What was he to do? Tell Y/N? No… he couldn’t. They might hate him. They might think he’s awful. They might stop being around him completely. He couldn’t handle that.

So, what was he to do?

“So, what’re you gonna do?” Bim asks, as if reading Hosts mind. “You’ve got to tell them of course.”

“No.”

“No?” Bim scoffs, “Wha do you mean, ‘no’? You have to tell them, Host!”

“Hos does not have to do anything. Host is content with watching from afar.” Host explains. There’s a pause.

“That’s goddamn creepy, Host,” Bim states. Host frowns. It is a bit creepy.

“Host cannot tell them,” He whispers. Bim, finally seeming to understand, sighs and leans forward.

“Look, Host, I know you’re scared. I know this is unfamiliar territory for you, but…” Bim starts. Host leans a bit towards him, wanting to hear what he has to say. He may treat the man like he’s annoying, but ultimately, Host cares about his opinion. Bim sighs again.

“If you don’t tell them, you’re going to regret it. Trust me I know…” Bim pauses, and Host begins wondering who hurt him. “But, these are your feelings, Host! You can’t keep them bottled up inside you forever. It’s unhealthy. You need to tell them and if they like you back, great! If they don’t, that’s too bad, watch ‘Dirty Dancing’ on repeat and eat a tub of ice cream like the rest of us.” Host tilts his head a bit.

“Host cannot exactly watch--”

“Oh, you know what I meant, smartass!” Bim laughs and Host smiles. He does know what Bim meant, and he undrstands. He just needs to say it. How would he say it?

‘Hi. I like you. Say it back.’

That’s a bit too forward.

But forward is what Host does. It’s who he is, he can’t change that.

He’ll just say that to them when they come back.

Y/N walks back into the room where Bim and Host are. They’re wearing different shoes, he can tell. Are they wearing different clothes as well? Why would they be?

Wait…

“Wow, hey Y/N! Who you dressing all nice for?” Illinois says from somewhere else in the room. Host is pale. He doesn’t want to know.

“Well,” Y/N chuckles, “I’m glad you asked!”

No.

No, no, no.

“I’m actually going out for lunch.”

“Really? With who?”

Stop.

Stop!

“It’s ‘whom’.”

“Fuck you, Google. Y/N, spill.”

Don’t.

Please, don’t.

“I’m going out on a date!” They finally finish. The room is completely silent. Not that Host would hear anything with the ringing in his ears.

He felt bad. He felt so bad. He hated this… feeling. He was so upset.

“Well, don’t all talk at once…” Y/N jokes awkwardly. Bim finally decides to take pity on them.

“Wow! Didn’t know you had it in you!” He teased. “Congrats!” The other egos joined in in a chorus of congradulatory phrases. Host was silent.

“Well, I better go. Wish me luck!” They said, practically bouncing out the door. Everyone said goodbye to them, and the door finally closed. Host could feel everyone’s eyes on him. They all knew. The all knew. And he didn’t until he was too late to do anything.

Typical of him.

“Host…” Bim starts. Before he can say anything else, Host shoots up and makes a beeline for the bathroom. No one calls after him, no one tries to stop him, no one does anything, He is grateful for that. He just wants to sit and wallow, and that’s exactly what he plans to do.

--

Host heard a soft knock on the door.

“Host?” Bim asks quietly. “Host, it’s Bim. Are you okay?”

“No,” Host whispers. “Host is not okay. Why would Host be okay?”

“Well, uh… you’ve just… been in there a while. I figured you’d have gotten a bit better…”

“Host has not.”

“Oh…”

Silence for a moment, and Host thinks Bim will leave. No matter how much he may try to seem cold, he does enjoy the man’s company.

“Don’t worry. I’m still here.”

Host lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

“Bim?” He hears the other man shift so he is sitting out side the bathroom door.

“Yeah, Host?”

“Do you think Host is worthy of love?”

“Yes.” Bim said immediately. Host waited for an explanation. He got none. He supposed that’s just how it works. Sometimes you don’t get an explanation.

“Bim?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think that Y/N could be in love with Host?”

“I think… you shouldn’t bet on it.” Host’s shoulders fall. “But, I also think that there is a possibility and you should tell them soon before they fall in love with someone else.” Host brought his head up. Bim was right.

Y/N was going on a date. Presumably, their first date with this person. Dates are used to figure out if someone is in love, or gives an oppurtunity for someone to fall in love. There was still time. He still has time.

Host swings the bathroom door open and Bim hits his head on the floor.

“Ow! Dammit, Host!” He cursed. Host couldn’t feel bad. Not now.

“Host needs help.”

“With what?” Host turns towards Bim, who pulled himself to his feet.

“With getting Y/N to fall in love with me.” Host heard nothing for a second. Then, a chuckle from the gameshow host.

“Alright,” He sighs, “What do you wanna do?”

[fbdo1986]

so idk if you’ve done it yet but #5 on that prompt list w ot3 i think wld be beautiful 🥺💞💖

I hi yes!!! i finally got to the actual first prompts you sent!!! thank you for this lovely lovely request!! i took a few liberties with how to interpret the prompt but i really hope you like it (it’s actually quite long, whoops!) 

so here it is! prompt #5: where it doesn’t hurt with the ot3! (yes, all three this time!) which i’ve aptly titled firestarter, after the haley blais song by the same name. (which i definitely recommend listening to while reading, it fits so well.) because it’s so long it will be after the cut!

I step back from the fire

I learned to keep my distance, the path of least resistance 

Cameron’s chest aches with the feeling it always has, he guesses. Or always had. It’s hard to tell the difference, or remember, when suddenly your present reality is much more memorable than the past. It’s pretty insufferable, in some ways, and certifiably pathetic in others. He doesn’t know how long he’s been like this, but it’s not going anywhere. That he knows.

It’s a million and one unhealthy, wounding adjectives all balled into one—that’s the consistent Cameron Frye experience as of late. Harsher, in the way they seep, much further than any of the words his father could spit at him. Yet, when all your brain seems programmed to do is to wish, incessantly, that you were kissing your two best friends every moment you’re with them, a response this cruel almost seems tame. He can mind the ache, but such an animalistic urge feels particularly unsettling.

It’s unbearable. Not their company, that’s always been the saving grace of the situation, but such a need. A sensation so physical, so innate, that his body begs for it, that it distracts him when he’s right in front of them, so much that he can barely stand sitting there sometimes, is too much to handle. 

And it worsens, every day, because now he’s not just hiding his feelings from them, but he’s hiding this too. And he’s never had anyone else. That’s the catch. He has them. It either stays inside, or it goes to them. The latter is an outright impossibility, but as the weight grows and grows, what choice does he have? Until he remembers. It’s a long shot, completely, but even such a fraction of hope takes a much needed weight off of his shoulders.

“You have to swear. Look, I don’t really need these types of precautions every day, but I need your complete and total confidence.” He looks Jeanie Bueller dead in the eyes from where he sits across from her. It’s funny, in a way. Jeanie is his oldest friend, aside from Ferris. And that he needs someone to keep a secret for him. He’s lucky, he doesn’t really have use for secret keepers after Ferris and Sloane start having that magical ability on him that makes him want to share the things he only kept for himself. Nowadays, his secrets are either his or they’re theirs.

“Jesus! What’s gotten into you?” Jeanie interrogates. “Barely any hello, and suddenly you’re getting all intense on me. Are you feeling alright?” Her brows furrow. 

“Yeah, Jean, I’m alright.” He tries to make himself relax, but it’s a fruitless task. “I just… I don't really have anyone else to talk to about this, and well, I trust you.”

“It’s about my brother, isn’t it?” She lays it on him bluntly. There’s no bullshitting Jeanie.

“How did you know?” His face reddens.

“It’s pretty easy to realize that if a guy can’t turn to his childhood best friend for something, it’s gotta be about him. Besides, I can be objective.” She smiles at herself for that one.

“I mean, it’s about Ferris… and Sloane.” That confuses her. As far as Jeanie knows, he goes to them with everything. She doesn’t think that there’s anything wrong with their friendship, they seem happy, so who is she to wonder? 

“Just… don’t get ahead of yourself just yet, okay? I’m trusting you with a lot here. Like, a lot.” Cameron hangs his head, defeated. “Just swear, okay?”

“Fine, fine. I’m swearing.”

“I mean, be serious here, Jeanie!” He leans forward, hands gripping the armrests of the chair he sits in tightly.

“I am being serious!” She blows out a breath of air sharply. “I’m sorry. I’m glad you trust me. You can trust me.”

His shoulders lower in a sigh. He’s satisfied, but that doesn’t stop the swirling pit of anxiousness that inhabits his stomach from reminding him of its presence. He thinks that maybe this is the first step to getting rid of the bullshit that’s made his life so much more difficult these past few weeks, so he’s got to be willing to let that process happen. The sooner he can let it out, the sooner he can start moving forward.

“I don’t even know where to start.” He’s already overwhelmed, and all signs really do point to abandoning ship.

“Wherever feels best,” Jeanie offers him in support. It’d be weird to try and offer a hand on his shoulder now, since there’s quite a few feet of space in between them, so she gives him a small smile instead.

A few moments pass where neither of them say anything. Quickly Cameron realizes he hasn’t even made up his mind of how much he wants to say, let alone where to begin. He doesn’t know if the beginning means the beginning, in which case the two of them will be here for a while. He thinks they might be anyway, because he’s absolutely stalling, so he just needs to say something. Anything.

“I need your help. Because… because part of this I can live with, and part of it I can’t. I’ll get to that, eventually, I guess.”

“Is everything okay? Are you guys okay?” She inquires. She means a fight, if they’ve fought. As though they need fixing up of broken pieces. He wishes it were that simple.

“Yeah, no, we’re fine. I mean, we’re not fighting or anything.” He’s awful at clarifying. “Fuck. You know what, no. I don’t want to put you through this. This is stupid.” He starts getting up from where he’s sitting.

“Come on, Cameron. You haven’t even told me what it is yet. I want to help you.” She looks at him solidly. Her eyes, the color of Ferris’s, reflect how genuine she is.

“Okay. No, you’re right.” He lowers himself back into his seat, and she does what Ferris does so well, communicating without saying anything. She’s leaning forward, her elbow propped on top of her knee, and her chin sits on top of her fist. He can hear it: ‘So…?’

A big breath in. “I’m in love with Ferris and Sloane. And I have been for months now.” He knows it’s been longer, but this is when he first started acknowledging it. “And, and I’m okay with that. I think. I’ve gotten used to sitting with it. I just… there are things that I’ve been experiencing recently… that aren’t as easy to deal with.” The same breath out. 

“So you were right. That was a lot.” Her voice raises, drawing out the phrase a bit.

Cameron covers his face out of embarrassment and dread. Jeanie flounders, trying to let him know what she means. “But that’s okay.” She breathes out a sigh, looking at him intently. She wants him to do the same. “What do you need help with?”

He follows her orders, breathing out. His pulse slows. “You don’t mind?”

She smiles at him. “Of course I don’t. There’s nothing wrong with loving someone. Even if it’s two people. So, let me in. What do you need?” 

“Basically…” He forces himself to get the words out quickly. “It’s gotten… bad. So bad that I… all I can think about is wanting to kiss them. It-it’s like I need to. Sometimes it gets hard to even just sit there. Like my body is begging me to do it. I can’t stand it.” Jeanie notices the way he’s digging at the fabric of his shirt, the way his eyes narrow in disgust as he looks inside himself.

He brings his eyes up to her finally, desperately. “I need you to help me get rid of that. That… feeling.” He clenches his fists.

“I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but something tells me that it’s gonna stay unless you deal with it. Plus, it’s kind of romantic. To love someone that much.”

“Yeah, sure. ‘Romantic’ is what keeps me awake at night in self hatred. It feels wrong. I feel wrong.”

“Cameron, please. You’re a really sweet guy. You’re not a creep, you’re literally trying to stop yourself from doing what you’re not sure they want. Don’t do that to yourself.”

“What choice do I have?” He’s desperate for a solution. 

“Telling them.”

“Yeah, right.” He scoffs. “The only way that would be a possibility is if I do it on April Fool’s Day and back out if they don’t reciprocate.”

“You know, that’d be kind of hilarious if I didn’t know you were serious.”A smile forms on her face, but it disappears just as quickly as it came. “But also kinda fucked up.” 

Cameron looks at her, eyes full of irritation and defeat.

“Look. I think the thing you should be most concerned about is just the fact that they’re in a relationship.”

“What’re you saying?”

“I’m saying, I think you’d have a pretty good chance with either of them if they were single.”

“Even Ferris?” He’s clueless as to how she can actually believe that. 

“Hey, contrary to popular belief, I’m not exactly up to date on my brother’s personal life. Especially who he’s going out with. That is completely none of my business. He does lots of stuff I don’t know about. The guy has no moral compass. He’s completely unburdened by the weight of modern society.”

Cameron’s heart skips a beat. “So you think it’s immoral?”

“Of course not! All I’m saying is Ferris doesn’t give two shits about what other people think of him. I’m pretty sure the only opinions he cares about are yours and Sloane’s.” 

“That’s funny. He did consult me before asking her out.”

“Did that… upset you?”

“I mean, no. I’m glad that he trusts my opinion that much. I couldn’t have him say no. I knew.”

“So that means you…”

“Had feelings for Sloane then? Yeah. I loved her since the moment I met her.”

“And Ferris?”

“That took longer, but… something told me, even then, I wanted him by my side forever.” He waves his hands in front of her suddenly. “Anyway, stop. You’re supposed to be helping me, remember? Not enabling me.”

“I’m offering you a solution. And if nothing else, giving you an outlet. Clearly you needed this.” All Cam can do is laugh, because she’s completely right. He runs his hands over his face.

“So listen. Not to the voice that wants you to hurt, but to what your body is telling you. That doesn’t mean you should go up to them and kiss them without warning, but your heart wants something. Now, I don’t want you to feel like I’m not taking your concern into account, because I understand that, but I don’t want to disregard me totally because the voice inside your head speaks to you more. It knows where you’re weak, and it feeds on that. Give your heart a try. Give them a try.”

A few moments of silence. “How can you be so sure?”

“I’m not. But I don’t want you to wallow in what’s only making you feel worse with absolutely zero hope. You deserve to love and be loved, and I know that out of anyone, you should choose it for them. You owe it to yourself. You do.”

“I’ll think about it.” Cameron fights a smile. “Thank you, Jeanie. I mean, really. Thank you.”

“Of course.” They get up from their places, and Jeanie can’t help but give Cameron a hug. It makes him laugh, and gives him a sense of stability he doesn’t realize he’s been craving.

So Cameron coasts along, the oppressive feeling his body is used to carrying is a little lighter. He jokes with himself, claiming that this is the cure, and now he has no need to worry. Yet deep inside, where little flames still lick at the embers, there’s the knowledge that this lightness has only come over him because there is something deeper inside that he’s now worried about releasing. And besides, it isn’t fool-proof. 

In fact, on a pleasant, spring day in April—he’s fully abandoned the plot for the first of the month—it burns more than ever. And honestly, anything, even the prospect of ruining everything, feels better than how mangled and wrong this feels. 

“Hi, guys.” It’s a weird way to start, but it’s all he has. He practiced lines for this, like a valiant actor who put the script to memory, but they start to slip from him, quicker and quicker, as the thrumming of his heartbeat becomes the only sensation he can really latch onto. His lips are numb, it feels as though any word could slip out loosely without paying attention, but he feels so far away from where his head is. There’s nothing holding him together, nothing tangible except for the fact that he’s still physically in one place.

“Hi, Cameron.” Sloane begins, eyes full of light like they always are.

“Hey, Cam.” Their smiles are sweet, both laughing at their same joke, and it’s excruciating not to follow through with the motions his body keeps incessantly suggesting. Oh, how little they know. It’s endearing, how lovely and innocent they look. He prays the light doesn’t fully go out of their eyes when he drops this on them. So he takes precautions where he can, as if that will cushion the blow.

“I need you-I need to talk to you about something.” Already off to a rocky start. How fitting. He huffs out a sharp breath. 

“What’s going on?” Sloane asks first, again.

“Yeah, what’s up?” They both lean forward slightly.

Cameron finds it especially cute that despite their function as a pair, they always answer him separately. He wants to push down these observations, his wandering thoughts, even now. But he shoves the shame away, because that’s not getting him closer to spitting it out.

He looks at Ferris and swallows hard, but tries to keep his voice lighthearted. “If this completely blows up in my face, blame your sister.” He doesn’t want that, but he knows that Jeanie would understand. It would take some of the sting away, and she would be okay with that. They would know, too, that it wasn’t her fault. It’s just to clear the air, to give him some comfort in the last few moments that are unburdened by confession.

Sloane’s eyebrows raise quizzically, but Ferris takes it all the same. “That can be arranged.”

“Man, I really didn’t plan this out enough.” A dry laugh escapes his lips. They look at him with curiosity.

“Okay. Basically, you two mean everything to me. It’s silly to say, I guess, but you know as well as I do how true that is. Hell, you make me feel like the main character in my own life. I don’t know how to talk about it, but I’d be pretty hopeless without you. And something inside me just, really hopes you feel the same way. I mean, I don’t want you to feel hopeless without me, but—shit. Why is this so difficult?”

Their eyes are fond, still, albeit harboring a bit of confusion. “Of course we do.” Sloane confirms, softening.

“I mean, it’s kind of fun. It’s like we’ve uncovered some secret that no one’s found out about. Cameron Frye, the key to eternal friendship.” Ferris says, gesturing dramatically. “I think at this point if I saw you hanging out with anyone else I’d have a heart attack and also never forgive you.” 

Cameron can’t help but laugh. But it fades away all too quickly, and he’s left in the same headspace that ties his stomach in knots. He’s more than just that secret. 

“See, that’s where it gets hard. For me. There’s just so much of this that I’ve been holding back. That I can’t hold back. Maybe I’m a fool, but I’m tired of… I’m never going to get tired of you. But I’m so tired of feeling like I’m destroying everything that this is just by being around you. I hate that my heart wrings every time I look at you. I hate… needing you this much. I need you, in a way I’m not supposed to.” He looks up at them finally, hoping they understand. Willing them to understand. Finally, finally, it quells. The burning ends, because he feels as though he could jump out of his skin. 

“You mean…?” Ferris asks in a quiet voice.

“Mm-hm.” Cameron nods, face heating with shame. They understand, and he breaks. Tears start falling down his cheeks, his vision blurring quickly. He’s almost grateful he can’t see them, can’t tell what’s in their heads by the expression on their faces. 

“Aw, Cameron, no. It’s alright.” Ferris consoles him, and Sloane joins him immediately at his left side.

“Please, Cam. Don’t cry.” They’re wiping his tears away with their thumbs, and everything inside him wants to shake them away. Shake his head furiously, shout, tell them no. He doesn’t want to be pitied. He can’t tell what this means, but he can’t take what happens next if it starts like this. Maybe they could love him, if they felt bad enough for him, and even someone so incredibly alone and desperate to be wanted like him knows that’s not fair. But he’s already sobbing, and he’s left with no choice. Letting them.

“It shouldn’t hurt this bad. Love. It doesn’t need to hurt this much.” Sloane tells him, looking into his eyes. How badly he wants to let it out, sadly. ‘Mine does.’ She’s still holding him, solidly, and stroking his cheek. But it’s not them. He hopes they know that. It’s always been him, the source of it. They’re meant to be loved, that’s not the problem. Just not by him, not like this.

“You got all ahead of yourself, Cam.” Ferris speaks to him softly, voice warping with concern. “You didn’t even hear us out.”

There was supposed to be no response. That was strictly for dreams, for the parts that deserved to be pushed away. 

“To be needed. That isn’t so bad, is it?” Sloane smiles, asking him earnestly.

“No, no.” He musters up the strength to tell them. “You can’t. Not like this. Not because I made you do it. Not because I made you feel bad.”

“You’re not making us do anything. We made this decision, this realization, all by ourselves.” Ferris convinces him, holding onto his hands. “Before this.”

“What?” It shakes Cameron out of it, almost completely.

“When we skipped school. After everything. Even after just… a second of having to maybe be without you… it was like the world had collapsed. We couldn’t handle it. We talked about it. After you left.” Ferris says.

“We need you, too.” Sloane looks in between them for a moment, then locking eyes with Cam in certainty.

“In the way we’re not supposed to. You just, fit. You talk about us, how much we’ve done for you. How much you need us, how much we’ve helped. But you… you’re everything. You complete us, the both of us, in a way we didn’t even know needed completing. We need you as much as we need each other. Love you, as much as we love each other.” Ferris lets that sink in. 

The word can barely escape, but Cameron needs clarification. “Love… me?”

“Yep. Isn’t that how you feel?” Ferris asks.

Cameron nods.

“Fully and completely.” Sloane confirms.

Cameron starts to cry again, but there’s a release of joy in it. Pent up pain, shame, and hurt, finally washing away. He laughs, gasping for air as his eyes brighten. Within a few moments, the unthinkable happens. Ferris presses a kiss on his lips, and then retreats for Sloane to do the same. They take turns like this. They don’t care that Cameron’s still in the aftermath of tears, that there’s the occasional hiccup of breath, that there are tears that dampen their faces. The way Cameron kisses them back with a purity, with a mutual exchange of need, want, and the loss of a weight that they feel so much freer without, nothing else in the world could possibly matter.

[izzy-b-hands]

Whisper

Prompt-Kiss: Fingers 

From the DL discord server Bingo Card I was given (thank you to the folks on there for this; I’m loving the prompts I got!) 

Set in about 1976 because...no real reason other than I wanted it to be lol. 

Did not exactly intend on this going smutty and romantic, but here we are all the same! That said, it is a bit NSFW! 

Haven’t written for this ship before (Maycury I think is the ship name?) and as always when I do write things like this (like w/my Sledgefu stuff) it is written solely as a work of fun and fiction, with no ill intent meant towards the actual folks. I think p much all of y’all that read my work know that already, but since this is my first fic like this, I felt it was better to note the disclaimer, just to be safe!

Also this song works for so many of my more romantic fics, but I borrowed the title of it to title this fic and it vibes v well with this piece, so give it a listen! 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“Are you going to stare at me the entire time?” Brian laughed. 

“Would you hate it if I did?” Freddie asked back with a smile. 

It was just the two of them in the rehearsal space; Roger and John had gone to get food since they’d managed to completely forget about lunch, and had only now broken for a late dinner. 

Despite that, the room felt incredibly full. Of tension, rather than people this time, but neither one of them were addressing it. 

Because really, how did you address something like this? 

The kiss had been brief, last week, during a night out with all of them plus the crew for the next tour. A ‘get to know you’ sort of night, so the drinking had been minimal, and by the time they’d walked everyone else home, they were both stone cold sober. 

Which was maybe what had made it more surprising. If they had been drunk, it could have been brushed off. An accident. An outburst of a mash of feelings, taken out via affection with the closest trusted person. 

But that wasn’t what it had been. It had been a deliberate, slow, move to duck into the alley just before Brian’s home, to kiss hard enough that Freddie ended up backed against the brick wall, hands looped around Brian’s shoulders, fingers tangled delicately in his curls. To be out of breath enough that there was, for a second, the muttered question from Brian asking if Freddie wanted him to come home with him, if he would have him go home with him. 

But then the moment had broken and reality had come crashing back in, and Freddie had finished dropping Brian off at home with both of them blushing brightly enough that it was easily seen despite the darkness. 

And now, this. The not exactly uncomfortable tension, but tension that needed addressing and relief all the same. 

“I don’t suppose I would,” Brian replied. “If it makes you happy to watch me, go for it.” 

He wasn’t playing anything in particular, just bouncing around from idea to idea, threading them together into something that perhaps wouldn’t be cohesive enough for a radio single, but that was beautiful to hear all the same. 

“That’s lovely,” Freddie murmured as he leaned against the back of his chair. “No idea how we could use it, but I like it.” 

“Which part?” 

“All of it.” 

Brian smiled. “I don’t think the other two would want it in anything. How would we add them into it?” 

“I don’t know,” Freddie admitted. “But you’ll have to do something with it when we let you solo. The fans will like it.” 

Brian shook his head. “I don’t know. Too much of my fingers flying about, not enough to keep their attention.” 

“I think they like watching your fingers move as much as the music they make,” Freddie said. The ‘and I do too’ went unsaid. 

But Brian blushed anyway, as if he’d somehow found a way to hear it in Freddie’s head. “You sound like Chrissie. She says that’s what the girls all watch.” 

“Not just the girls,” Freddie said, meaning it much more nonchalantly than how it came out. The room was starting to feel unbearably warm. 

“I’ve noticed,” Brian said, but his head raised to meet Freddie’s gaze before he could turn away. “It’s really nice, all the attention. From whoever it comes from, you know?” 

Freddie nodded, biting back the thousands of things he wanted to actually say. “Makes you feel special, standing up there, all those eyes on you.” 

“Something like that,” Brian said. His fingers had slowed in their playing, but the tune was as beautiful as before. “Off-stage, too.” 

The urge to stand up and deposit himself in Brian’s lap (after carefully removing the Red Special, of course) was ridiculously strong, but he fought it. One kiss didn’t mean anything. One kiss was nothing, a mistake, a moment meant to be history-

“You know,” Brian interrupted his train of thought. “I’ve always thought about the playing about some singers have done with their guitarists, do you know what I mean?”

“Not exactly, no,” Freddie replied, though he had ideas rapidly running through his head. “What do you mean?” 

“When they have their teeth all in the way,” Brian laughed. “How do I describe it better? On their knees, mouth right over the strings...” 

Freddie knew exactly what he meant, and exactly what that action was meant to simulate, and he knew exactly how to say it so Brian would know he was on the same page. 

But the tension was at a breaking point, and that wouldn’t be nearly as much fun as showing him that he knew what Brian meant.

“I think I’ve got it,” Freddie said, and stood up from his chair, motioning for Brian to do the same. “Go on, do your thing. I’ll try it, and you tell me if I’ve got it right.” 

Brian stood, strumming slowly, eyes locked onto Freddie as he approached. 

“So, in the middle of it all,” he said softly. “I drop down like this.” 

He dropped to his knees as carefully as he could in front of Brian; the floor was not soft but it hardly mattered at the moment. 

“And go like this,” he moved so his lips were just over Brian’s hand. “But faster, more violent when we’re onstage, right?” 

Brian made a sharp noise that sounded like yes, but more like a whimper. 

He wanted so much to happen right then. For Brian to set aside the Red Special so he could get to doing something else while he was on his knees, for Brian’s hand to gently grasp at the back of his head (and it would be gentle, Brian didn’t have it in him to be too rough, he was certain, and that wasn’t a bad thing at all, it was sweet.) To lock the door to the room so they couldn’t be interrupted when Roger and John returned (because he was hungry, but not for food anymore.) 

But he fought it again, and instead pressed a soft kiss to Brian’s fingers as he stopped strumming. 

And that was what finally made the tension break. 

Brian moved quickly, setting the Red Special carefully aside on its stand by his chair, then pulled Freddie to his feet. 

“I need to have a talk with Chrissie, don’t I?” he murmured and settled his hands on Freddie’s hips.

Freddie nodded. 

“I’m not as straight as I thought I was, am I?” 

Freddie shrugged. “I can’t say yay or nay on that for you, darling. Only you can. But if I had to give you an opinion-” 

The crush of Brian’s lips against his interrupted him, and he longed desperately for another brick wall to be pushed up to. Leaning more against Brian, letting him hold him up and close was fine enough, but his legs were absolutely shaky in the most wonderful way even so, and he didn’t relish the idea of literally melting and falling all over Brian. 

“They’ll be back before we know it,” he gasped when Brian finally gave him more than a moment to catch his breath. “We could continue this-” 

“In the tapes closet,” Brian nodded. “Good idea.” 

He had actually meant to say later, figuring that’s what Brian would be more comfortable with. “Brian May, you continue to surprise me. Fucking in the tapes closet, not what I thought I’d hear you suggesting.” 

“Maybe not fucking,” Brian admitted. “But only because I want to do that right, in a bed. And with more time, because god knows I don’t really know what I’m doing here, and I barely know what I’m doing with women, and god how on earth am I going to talk to Chrissie about this, how do I start that conversation and-” 

Freddie kissed him gently. “Breathe. We’ll figure that all out later. For now, there’s a closet, and I would very much like to be in it with you, doing whatever all you’re comfortable doing in there.” 

Brian nodded, and took him by the hand to the closet. “Thank god this thing has a lock.” 

“Thank god Roger locked himself in here once already, otherwise we might have never known until now that it did lock,” Freddie said. “I didn’t think that knowledge would be useful like that, but here we are!” 

It was incredibly dark, and instead of calming Brian it had given him the giggles as he wrapped his arms around Freddie again. 

“Are you alright?” 

It was adorable, the soft little giggles, the feeling of Brian’s head dropping to his shoulder. “I am. Just...a lot running through my head at the moment. Going a million miles a minute.” 

“Isn’t that the usual speed?” Freddie smiled, and let himself take over, pressing kisses to Brian’s neck, a hand pushing his curls out of the way. 

“Might normally be only a thousand,” Brian said, then sighed delightfully. “Slowing down some now, I’m rather happily distracted.” 

“Good,” Freddie said. “Allow me to distract you more, if you’d like.” 

“I would very much like,” Brian said, then gasped at the sound of the door to the room opening. “Fuck.” 

“No, you said later for that,” Freddie whispered. “I think it would be best if I showed exactly what that little move with your guitar is meant to simulate, don’t you? So we can do it more effectively onstage.” 

“But-” 

“If you don’t want me to,” Freddie said. “I’ll stop. We can go back out. There’s no rush, and if you’re uncomfortable with this while they’re out there, then we don’t have to do anything. Just say the word.” 

He could hear John and Roger, baffled, talking with each other and questioning where on earth he and Brian had gone. For another moment, there was only silence and the sound of them. 

“Don’t stop,” Brian said. “I can be quiet. I think. I’m going to try to be, at least.” 

“Truthfully, I’d love to hear you be loud, and I fully intend to hear that later,” Freddie said as he got down to his knees and undid Brian’s trousers. “But for now, that would probably be best, if you can be quiet.” 

“Oh my god, is this the worst thing you think anyone’s done in here?” Brian fussed, even as he slipped his cock out from his underwear. 

“Oh Brian,” Freddie sighed, then licked a stripe up Brian’s hard cock. “This is probably one of the most innocent things anyone has done in this closet. And that’s counting Roger, who claims he had a wank while he was locked in here. But he may have been making that up just to to get on me about that time, I don’t know for sure how true that is.” 

Brian nodded, then clapped a hand over his mouth as Freddie swallowed him down fully. 

He gave Brian a warning glance that he knew he likely couldn’t see, but at the moment it was all he could manage with his mouth preoccupied. 

Besides that, it was fun to feel Brian squirm, to hear the tiny whines that escaped as he sucked his cock, the needy whimpers when he paused to kiss the barely available bare skin of Brian’s hip. He doubted Roger and John were paying enough attention hear them (in fact, it sounded like they’d started practicing again with just themselves), but the idea that they might was wickedly wonderful. 

It was only another minute or two before Brian was gently tapping at his shoulder, and he knew why. It wasn’t every single time that he felt like swallowing, but if there was ever a time to put in the effort and take someone as deep as he could while they came, it was certainly here with Brian. 

“Fucking christ,” Brian whimpered, a hand resting at the back of Freddie’s head. 

“No, just me,” Freddie grinned as he let Brian’s cock rest soft against the fabric of Brian’s trousers. “But thank you for the compliment.” 

Brian giggled again, and it was the best and sweetest noise, almost as good as the kiss Brian gave him as he tucked himself away. 

“I don’t know how to pay you back for that, here,” Brian admitted sheepishly. “I don’t think I’ll be able to do that as well as you can.” 

“You’ll get there,” Freddie said. “It’s enough now that we got to do anything at all.” 

“Maybe tonight?” Brian asked. “After the rest of rehearsal, I mean.” 

“Tomorrow night,” Freddie said. “After you talk to Chrissie.” 

His eyes had adjusted enough to the dark that he could see Brian nod. “Right. That has to be done first.” 

“It does,” Freddie said, and kissed him softly. “After that? There’s room at mine for you, if that’s what you want.” 

“It is,” Brian said. 

“You can think about it, I mean right this minute might not be the best time to make the decision-” 

“I didn’t make it now,” Brian interrupted. “Made it weeks ago, months ago. But was too scared to bring it up or say anything, or act on it until last week after the pub.” 

“I had wondered,” Freddie admitted, and suddenly the months full of oddly tender moments with Brian, that had sat right along the edge of being boyfriends rather than just friends, made sense. “But I didn’t want to push anything, since I didn’t know if I was fully right in what I was thinking.” 

“You were right,” Brian said, and kissed him deeply, a hand at the back of his neck. “I think we have to find a way to go back out there now, without it being weird.” 

“We’re dating, and I just gave you a blowjob in a closet,” Freddie said gently. “There isn’t a way for us to walk out together to them without it being a little bit odd. But that’s okay. Own it. We’d have to tell them too, eventually. Might as well be right now.” 

Brian nodded, the unlocked and opened the door. 

“See! I knew they were fucking in there,” Roger scoffed. “A tenner you owe me, John.” 

“It wasn’t fucking,” Freddie said. “Only a blowjob; you don’t owe him anything, John.” 

“I don’t have that much on me anyway,” John said, bouncing in place, continuing to play as he talked. “Wondered how long before it would finally happen. Congratulations.” 

“I thought I was being subtle about it all,” Brian said. 

“Subtle as screaming fire in a theater,” Roger chuckled. “Good for you two, though. Does Chrissie...” 

“I’m going to tell her tomorrow,” Brian said as he walked back to the Red Special and picked it up. “I’m not exactly worried, but-” 

“It’ll go how it goes, and she has every right to feel however she does afterwards,” Freddie interrupted as he made his way to the piano. “Just be honest, and it’ll be however it is. Nothing more you can do about it.” 

“...I’ll pack up my things once I get home tonight,” Brian said after a thoughtful pause. “For the best, since I’ll be at yours anyway.” 

“Lovely, now you can be late to practice together,” Roger said. “Very romantic.” 

“We’ll set an alarm or something,” Freddie said. “No belief in us whatsoever...” 

“Stop being late, and I’ll start believing,” Roger teased. 

“Speaking of late,” John said. “Are we going to get to it, or shall we call it for the night?” 

“Could we call it?” Brian asked, already packing up the Red Special. “I think I’d rather talk to Chrissie tonight, and if I get home soon she might still be awake.” 

They all nodded and started to clean up. What food Roger and John hadn’t tucked into was divvied up between the three of them, with Freddie taking Brian’s share. 

“I’ll leave the light on for you,” he said softly as he walked with Brian outside. “I don’t have an extra key, but if you ring the bell, I’ll let you in.” 

“I don’t want to wake you if you’re asleep,” Brian said. He adjusted his grip on the Red Special’s case nervously. 

“I’ll be doing my best not to sleep anyway,” Freddie said. “Waiting up for you. No matter how long it takes, and don’t you dare rush that conversation with Chrissie on my behalf, alright? Let her say what she needs to before you go running out the door.” 

Brian nodded. “I’ll see you at home?” 

He kissed him gently, quickly, mindful that someone could happen to be looking outside and see them. “See you there, love.” 

He didn’t quite skip home, happy though he was. The whole thing wasn’t without pain, and he hoped desperately that Chrissie would be okay. Flowers wouldn’t make up for the massive announcement and change to her life, but if nothing else, perhaps some sent to her might soothe things a little. He wanted to try and do that for her, if he could. 

And for Brian, even more. He wanted him to feel fully at home as soon as he got there, and if he worked fast, he could clean out room in the dresser for Brian’s things, create a safe space for the Red Special to be put whenever they weren’t out rehearsing or touring or Brian didn’t feel like wandering about with it and working on whatever ideas were in his head. There was an extra pillow in the closet to put on the bed, and a slightly longer blanket that he would put out (though it still might not cover Brian completely, but it would be better than the current one if nothing else.) 

It wasn’t how he had seen rehearsal ending for the night, if he was honest. It was so much better, and the idea that every rehearsal from now on would end with Brian coming back home with him, made it perfect. 

[nostallgias]

        ☆ . * (  kristine  froseth,  cis  female,  she  /  her  )  hey,  look  !!   indigo  ‘indie’  dahl  aka  @nostalgias  is  online  and  ready  to  write  another  anonymous  post  on  the  broken  hearts  club.  rumor  has  it  they’re  here  because  she  ran  away  from  her  hometown  to  escape  her  family  and  ex  lover.  out  in  the  real  world  she  is  a  musician  /  bartender.  the  22  year  old  is  known  for  being  flighty  &  impetuous  but  make  up  for  it  by  being  vivacious  &  determined.  if  they  were  to  describe  themselves  they’d  say  they’re  chipped  nail  polish,  lipstick  stains  on  cigarettes,  driving  with  the  window  down  and  their  favorite  song  is  gold  dust  woman  by  fleetwood  mac.

        hello  everyone,  i’m  so  happy  2  b  in  this  rp   !!!   my  name  is  diana,  i’m  twenty  yrs  old,  a  libra,  and  reside  in  the  est  timezone.  some  quick  facts  abt  me  ...  i  am  a  girl  group  stan  and  lana  del  rey  enthusiast.  i  also  luv  cats.  anyway,  enough  abt  me,  u  can  learn  abt  my  muse  indigo  under  the  cut   !!!   my  discord  is   missing blackpink hours#5522  so  pls  hit  me  up  there  or  in  the  im’s  for  plots   !!   i  cannot  wait  to  get  started  <3   tw:  briefly  mentions  alcoholism  &  drugs

☆ . *   𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒔    !

full  name :  indigo  dahl

nickname(s)  :  indie

zodiac  :  sagittarius  sun,  gemini  moon   (  click  )

sexuality  :  bisexual

alignment  :  chaotic  good

pinterest  :  click

☆ . *   𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅    !

indie  grew  up  in  a  small  town  where  everyone  knows  everyone.  she  was  restless  and  curious,  but  there  wasn’t  much  to  do  in  a  town  that  small

her  parents  were  really  big  on  music,  so  there  was  always  something  playing  in  the  household.  it’s  safe  to  say  music  took  over  her  life.  she  started  to  learn  guitar,  then  later  bass

but  sadly  her  dad  left  them  when  she  was  still  young.  she  wanted  him  to  take  her  with  him,  so  she  could  finally  get  out  of  that  stupid  town,  but  he  left  her  with  her  mother  and  never  looked  back  :/

indie  and  her  mom  didn’t  get  along  too  well.  she  basically  planned  indie’s  entire  life  out,  down  to  who  she  should  marry.  after  her  father  left  them,  her  mom  wasn’t  rly  able  to  cope  with  it  too  well  and  she  kinda  turned  to  drinking,  and  the  music  that  was  always  playing  stopped  :(

indie  spent  her  middle  and  high  school  years  taking  care  of  her  mom,  who  was  too  drunk  to  function  at  all  times.  she  couldn’t  keep  a  job,  which,  was  fine  at  first  because  indie’s  grandparents  (  her  mother’s  parents  )  were  fairly  well  off,  and  they  could  live  off  of  them

that  was  until  her  grandparent’s  cut  them  off  after  finally noticing  their  daughter  was  an  alcoholic.  so,  they  were  pretty  much  left  with  no  source  of  income

indie  started  working  as  soon  as  she  was  old  enough.  she  worked  two  jobs  in  high school,  which  didn’t  leave  her  much  time  to  focus  on  school.  she  never  cared  for  school  anyway,  her  focus  was  always  music,  but  she  didn’t  even  have  much  time  for  that  anymore

her  mother  seemed  to  have  a  new  boyfriend  every  week,  men  who  always  acted  like  they  were  here  to  say.  all  of  them  tried  to  control  indie,  but  she  resented  every  single  one  of  them.  she  could  see through  the  lies

she  spent  most  of  her  time  away  from  home,  she  didn’t  even  like  sleeping  there.  it  didn’t  feel  like  home  anymore,  and  it  hadn’t  for  a  long  time

one  day,  one  of  her  mother’s  boyfriends  actually  stuck  around.  indie  just  kept  waiting  and  waiting  for  the  day  he’d  leave,  but  he  never  did.  her  mother  remarried

after  remarrying,  her  mother  kinda  got  her  life  back  on  track  again.  she  immediately  went  back  to  trying  to  control  indie  again.  indie  absolutely  hated  it,  but  she  was  happy  to  see  her  mother  in  a  good  place  again,  so  she  tried  to  fit  the  mold  

indie  barely  graduated  high  school  and  never  went  to  college.  she  continued  working  for  the  next  few  years,  saving  up  money  and  working  on  music

she  started  dating  the  guy  her  mother  chose  for  her.  it  was  okay  at  first,  but  the  spark  was  always  missing.  the  longer  she  was  with  him  though,  she  began  to  realize  that  he  wanted  to  stay  in  that  stupid  little  town  forever,  and  the  idea  of  spending  the  rest  of  her  life  there  terrified  her  so  much  she  decided  to  runaway

so,  she  packed  all  her  things  and  ran  away  in  the  middle  of  the  night.  she  drove  through  the  night  to  find  her  father,  but  when  she  found  him,  she  learned  he  had  remarried  and  started  a  new  family

deep  down,  she  always  knew  he  didn’t  want  her,  otherwise  he  would’ve  made  an  effort  over  the  years.  but  she  really  had  to  see  it  to  believe  it

and  that’s  how  she  found  her  way  to  chicago.  she  never  told  her  mother  where  she  went,  but  she  knew  she  was  looking  for  her  and  so  was  her  ex

her  grandparent’s  send  her  money  every  once  in  a  while,  and  although  they  aren’t  close,  they  understand  why  she  ran  away  and  want  her  to  have  the  chance  to  start  fresh

she  stumbled  across  the  forum  one  day  and  decided  to  join  it,  because  she  was  starting  to  feel  a  little  lost  and  it  has  helped  her  a  lot

☆ . *   𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚    !

indie  is  extremely  extroverted.  she  is  a  social  butterfly  and  will  befriend  literally  anyone.  the  tricky  part  is  getting  close  to  her,  though.  she  tends  to  keep  her  emotions  to  herself.  she  presents  a  version  of  herself  to  the  world,  one  who  is  always  happy  and  alive  because  she  thinks  that’s  the  only  version  of  her  that  people  will  like

she  has  such  a  curious  soul  !!  all  she  wants  to  do  is  explore  and  experience  new  things,  so  she’s  always  down  for  an  adventure.  she  loves  a  good  party  because  she  loves  to  be  around  people.  she’s  a  social  drinker  and  drug  user  (  except  for  weed,  which  she  smokes  a  lot  )

indie  doesn’t  have  any  idea  about  what  love  is,  but  she  knows  she  wants  it.  she  wants  a  great,  interesting,  devoted  love,  but  is  having  trouble  finding  it.  so  she  tends  to  have  a  lot  of  lovers,  but  they  mostly  end  up  being  casual.  she  gets  bored  easily,  so  if  it  isn’t  exciting  at  all  times,  she  kinda  dips  akjsdhsdjhk  it’s  her  fear  of  abandonment  

she  is  obsessed  with  the  70′s,  from  the  music  to  the  aesthetics.  stevie  nicks  is  her  inspiration.  she  loves  music  of  all  eras,  though.  she  loves  thrifting,  and  her  style  is  heavily  influenced  by  70′s  fashion

she  can  be  pretty  spontaneous,  but  also  reckless.  she  wants  everything  in  life  to  be  an  adventure,  so  it  has  gotten  her  into  trouble  in  the  past

hates  authority  figures,  literally  she  has  so  much  trouble  with  respecting  authority  now  because  she  feels  like  she  wasted  her  entire  life  doing  that  for  people  who  didn’t  respect  her

has  a  hard  time  taking  things  seriously,  except  for  music  because  that  is  her  entire  life

☆ . *   𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅  𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔    !

party  buddies  -  they  always  go  to  parties  together.  maybe  they  don’t  see  each  other  outside  of  parties,  maybe  they  met  at  a  party  and  became  close  friends  afterwards

drinking  /  smoking  buddies  -  someone  she  can  drink  or  smoke  with.  maybe  they  have  a  more  casual  friendship,  but  anytime  they  hang  out,  they  share  some  interesting  conversations

confidant  - someone  who  confides  in  her  or  someone  she  confides  in,  or  they  confide  in  each  other.  they  don’t  necessarily  have  to  be  the  closest  friends  ever,  but  they  get  along,  trust  each  other,  and  maybe  they  talk  more  in  private

frenemies  - they’re  friends,  but  maybe  they’re  always  trying  to  one  up  each  other.  they  might  gossip  behind  each  other’s  backs.  sometimes  they  get  along  perfectly  well,  but  maybe  sometimes  they  get  into  stupid  fights

protective  friends  - friends  who  feel  extremely  protective  over  one  another.  indie  will  literally  fight  anyone  who  hurts  them

sibling-like  friendship  - indie  is  an  only  child,  so  i  would  love  for  her  to  have  someone  she  sees  like  a  sibling.  they’re  there  for  each  other,  look  out  for  one  another  and  always  have  each  other’s  backs

dynamic  duo  /  best  friend  - ride  or  dies.  platonic  soulmates   !! this  person  is  probably  the  closest  friend  she  has  and  actually  knows  her  well  !   a  power  duo

partner  in  crime  -  someone  who  always  goes   along  with  her  antics.  someone  who  she  bounces  off  of  and  they  do  dumb  /  fun  shit  together   !!!   her  adventure  buddy

online  friends  -  her  favorite  person  on  the  forum.  she  is  always  interacting  with  them  and  is  literally  always  the  first  to  comment  on  their  posts  or  something.  maybe  they  confide  in  each  other

bandmates  -  if  your  muse  sings,  plays  guitar,  bass,  drums  or  keyboard,  they  can  be  in  a  band !!!  indie  plays  guitar,  bass,  and  also  sings  so  she  can  do whichever  of  these  is  needed  !!  she  also  likes  to  compose  music,  but  with  bandmates  they  will  collaborate  and  make  stuff  together  of  course

groupie  love  -  i  didn’t  know  what  to  call  this  plot  so  pls  ignore  the  name,  i  went  for  a  lana  del  rey  song  title aksdhsdjkh  but  basically  maybe  ur  muse  was  there  at  one  of  the  little  gigs  she  played  and  they  became  acquainted  after  that  !!!  this  can  be  romantic  or  platonic,  we  can  plot  it  however.  but  maybe  they  keep  going  to  her  shows  and  she’s  always  happy  to  see  them

flirtationship  - they  flirt  constantly,  but  nothing  serious  has  come  out  of  their  flirting.  maybe  they  have  good  chemistry,  but  haven’t  really  tried  to  explore  it  further

ex-fling  - maybe  they  ended  things  more  recently,  or  maybe  they  ended  things a  few  months  or  a  year  ago.  they  could  have  ended  on  good  or  bad  terms.  maybe  someone  or  both  of  them  still  have  feelings,  or  maybe  they’re  just  friends  or  don’t  talk  now

current fling  /  friends  w  benefits  - someone  she  is  currently  seeing.  could  be  no  strings  attached,  or  there  could  b  some  feelings  there.  maybe  they  don’t  want  to  make  it  anything  serious,  or  maybe  they’re  ready  to  take  it  to  the  next  level.  maybe  one  person  is  ready  to  go  further,  and  the  other  isn’t

requited  /  unrequited  crush  - maybe  she  has  a  crush  on  ur  muse,  whether  it’s  a  deep  crush  or  a  more  surface  level  crush.  OR  ur  muse  could  have  a  crush  on  her  and  maybe  she’s  oblivious  to  it  !!!   maybe  our  muses  have  crushes  on  each  other   !!!  maybe  it  isn’t  super  serious,  or  maybe  it  is

will  they,  won’t  they  - there’s  feelings  between  them,  but  they  haven’t  made  the  plunge  to  pursue  whatever  they  have.  longing,  yearning,  lingering  glances

take  care  -  someone  who  looks  after  her  when  she  parties  a  little  too  hard   !!!   someone  she  trusts  who  keeps  her  out  of  trouble  when  she’s  under  the  influence  and  feeling  too  reckless  for  her  own  good

enemies  w/  benefits  -  there  was  always  underlying  tension  between  them,  even though  they  couldn’t  really  stand  each  other.  maybe  they  hooked  up  at  a  party  and  now,  despite  their  personal  feelings  towards  each  other,  they  still  continue  to  hook  up

cyber  sex  -  once  again,  i  didnt  kno  what  to  title  this  so  i  went  for  a  doja  cat  song AJKSDSJKH  but  basically  someone  on  the  forum  she  has  a  crush  on.  i  think  it’s  funny  because  she  has  noooo  idea  who  they  are  irl  but  maybe  they connect  super  well  online

ex-friends  - someone  she  used  to  consider  a  best  /  close  friend,  but  they  had  a  falling  out  for  whatever  reason  n  maybe  they  strongly  dislike  each  other  now.  maybe  they  want  to  re-kindle  their  friendship  but  don’t  know  how

dealer  -  someone  she  buys  drugs  from,  they  could  be  friends  or  it’s  strictly  business

bad  influence  -  someone  indie  is  a  bad  influence  on.  she  maybe  influences  them  to  party,  drink  or  do  drugs,  or  do  stupid  reckless  things  with  her

good  influence  -  someone  that  is  a  good  influence  on  her  and  gets  her  to  keep  her  act  together.  she  has  trouble  caring  about  anything  that  isn’t  music  related,  so  this  person  can  keep  her  on  track

roommates  -  one  to  two  people  that  she  lives  with  !!!  they  can  get  along,  or  maybe  they  don’t  vibe  super  well.  but  if  they  do  get  along  they  can  do  cute  stuff like  bake  and  watch  movies  together

coworkers  -  indie  is  a  bartender,  so  she  can  work  at  the  bar  or  restaurant  that  your  muse  works  at

meet  me  at  the  bar  -  someone  who  frequents  her  job  a  lot.  maybe  they’re  her  favorite  customer  and  she  loves  whenever  they  come.  we  can  plot  this  out  however !!!

congratulations  !!!  you  have  finally  reached  the  end  of  my  unnecessarily  long  intro  aksdjhsdjhk  i  would  like  to  thank  u  for  reading  and  apologize  for  all  the  rambling  i  did  <3  anyway  i  would  luv  to  plot,  so  i’ll  send  message  u  asap  if  u  like  this  post   !!!  we  can  definitely  plot  over  im’s,  but  i  am  partial  to  discord  if  u  wanna  add  me  there:    missing blackpink hours#5522

[camilakell]

sophie turner. female. she/her.  ／  camila kellen just pulled up blasting tides by jack & jack— that song is so them! you know, for an twenty-one year old athlete/singer, i’ve heard they’re really -stubborn, but that they make up for it by being so +kind. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say bare feet on the beach, lace thongs under silk nightgowns, & and the feeling after the first snow fall. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble! (hailee steinfeld)

so!! camila kellen was born in southern california to a single mother, jenna kellen.  jenna was know for being the youngest attorney general of california. woman is smart as hell. she decided to have camila on her own via sperm donor and she worked her ass off while she was pregnant.

so jenna met jynx’s dad while he was on a vacation and they sort of just fell in love when camila was ten. long story short, this love story brought jenna to new york to be w jynx’s dad and run for congress after awhile. camila was.... not happy. 10 year old camila swore she’d move back to socal as soon as she could. she was bitter for about a year but eventually she did find a love for new york. she still misses the shit out of socal tho. (so she’s jynx’s step sister if u didn’t get that)

SO!!!  jenna put her into gymnastics at a very young age for some exercise and just, generally, for fun. camila took to it immediately and... never stopped. jenna never really expected that she would take to it so well and she was actually v against it at first. gymnastics was known to be rough on the mind and body of the athletes and she was scared to let her daughter into that world.

turns out camila was pretty good??? so they saw her love for the sport and let her continue. she ended up hitting the ground running when she hit the elite level in 2014, winning the nationals all around title and the world all around title (and a few medals in apparatuses). she continued on her streak and made the olympic team in 2016!!! her ultimate dream had been realized! her teammates elected her team captain and they won the team gold which was incredible.. and then she went on to win the all around gold and a silver on the uneven bars, gold on beam, & bronze on vault. she was on top of the WORLD!

so, she’s kept training, but she’s stayed out of the competition scene since the olympics as all of the misconduct of usa gymnastics came to light. she’s been quietly staying fit and training hard but she hasn’t publicly announced if she plans to compete in 2019-2020 to go for the olympic team because she isn’t really sure yet.

so when did she start singing?? well it started out as a youtube channel where she could write and sing and decompress from gymnastics... then...

in 2014, after worlds, her singing went viral again. the headlines were: “WORLD CHAMPION GYMNAST HAS ANGELIC VOICE” and that was that... her singing career was officially a thing. so she started working on music seriously inbetween her training. however!! she’s pretty much only done singles bc she’s been busy training

camila is known in the media for being incredibly stubborn and outspoken, as well as being one of the sweetest people around. she does whatever she can to help people, but she absolutely will not let people walk all over her. she’s an outspoken advocate for women’s rights, lgbtq+ rights, gun control, athletes rights, etc etc... she gets a lot of shit in the media for not being the perfect poised politician’s daughter and for dating around and being SO outspoken about politics when her mom is running but she?? doesn’t give a fuck. she speaks for what she thinks is important. period.

wanted plots!!!

platonic soulmate: this person is camila’s ride or die. she would do anything for this person and this person is always her first call when something good or bad happens. they could have been friends for months or years but they’re inseparable.

accidental vegas marriage: wouldn’t this be... wild

will they/won’t they: this person and camila have been flirting publicly and even seen together publicly but they refuse to acknowledge it to the media. they might not even know what they are but it’s clear they’re more than friends.

fwb: someone camila has fun with but it’s nothing more than that

exes: these are people camila has dated... could be on good terms or bad terms

close friends: people camila is pretty close with and talks to about a lot of different things.

ex-best friend: this is someone camila was very close with in the past, but has now grown apart from them. it could’ve been natural or from a big blow out or anything inbetween.

collabs: singers/bands she’s done collabs with!

anything else we can come up with! these are all just ideas!

also click to check out her pinterest musings!

[sixcastappreciation]

sixcago gave me my gay rights

alternative title: review of the evening sixcago show on july third

this is like almost 4k and its mostly just rambling but i need to express how much i love sixcago

like at least half of this is just me being gay so i bolded some of the things that i found really interesting and isnt just me like, freaking out

so to start off: holy shit. the energy of the entire show was amazing, it was really funny and fun and the acting/dancing/singing was on point like i cant think of a single complaint on the part of any of them.

so to get into the actual show

ex wives

when the curtain came up and the smoke started pouring out i actually felt my soul leave my body it was such a good moment

less than thirty seconds in brittney mack made eye contact with me and i swear to god my heart stopped and i honestly had trouble focusing on the rest of the song

i am not exaggerating that is the whole truth and nothing but the truth

shes............. literally so good im still shaking as i write this like three hours later

the third repetition of the rhyme where they all sound kinda pissed off? they nailed that

adrianna was so cute when she said “you wont try that again”

andrea holy shit. thats really a wrap on that

abby got that like, kinda head in the clouds thing that i feel like is janes Brand during this part

when he saw my portrait he was like JaaAAaaa

i love brittney mack

courtney knew what she was doing with that prick line. get it girl

anna has the most angelic voice i swear to god

the six of them work really well together on stage???? like i know its all choreo and stuff but you could Feel the energy that they had together it was good

oh man the choreo for the end. im so gay

intro thingy:

adrianna with that riff!!!!! we stan

annas face after “herstory” was iconic. she knew what she had done wrong

you couldnt hear the intro for maggie bc people were cheering so loud

the way adrianna says maria made me gay

abby also knows what she had to say. she knows how cursed janes sense of humor is and she was really playing it up

protestent............ protestant

“we’ll tell you what you want what you really really want” this made me laugh so hard i dont rly remember the next like thirty seconds because i was dying

“the biggest.... the firmest......... the fullest..............” im. i cant

no way

“maria” AGAIN adrianna please. please i cant handle it

“OH muy bien aHHah” not to be Lesbian On Main but fuck this was so cute

her emotion during the monologue was SO funny

it was peak, it was so good

she really gets it. i dont totally know what it is but this aragon monologue gets it

when she said “really trying” she did like, a motion. i cant go into more detail but Fuck

so after “move me into a convent” everyone like, gathered around aragon and adrianna did a

well idk what youd call it but a like

her entire torso swung around in a huge circle right before “i dont think i’d look that good in a wimple”

and idk what it was but that part just made me Lose It

adrianna had this way of making it all a little funnier?

like catherine is usually pretty Serious, i think but it felt like adrianna knew she was playing a character who was Like That, if you will, and was kinda leaning into breaking the fourth wall a little

i can probably elaborate if that doesnt make sense

you say its a pity cos quoting leviticus ill end up kiddiless all my life

she said that with such conviction goddamn

oh, he doesnt remember

this was so good

the “sh-”s were really funny

the fucking. i dont know what it is but the *ting*

holy shit

i cant put into words

how much i loved that part

the pause after “i’ll go” was............ expansive

i just checked it was 10 whole seconds

that doesnt sound long but it felt like forever

she went high on “end of my life” and thank u for mine adrianna hicks

the amount of no’s was impressive and im heart eyes for it

adrianna just had really good stage presence

like i caught myself looking at her during the dance breaks of all the songs when i wasnt looking at brittney

it was just so fun to watch her go!

dluh

during the intro of like “yeah, you know, the really important one” andrea was doing some Dumb Shit in the background

like i dont know exactly what it was but she was just like

idk like noodling around in the back

and i caught her eye and she like, smiled a little

the gasps the rest of them did were....... cute

then andrea busted out a full on fucking witches cackle

then she stuck her tongue out and looked like she was taking a selfie and it was so cute

like, her tongue was OUT

“not my thing” had the BIGGEST uwu energy of anything ive ever heard

i thought people were kidding when they said andrea boleyn had uwu energy

they were not

pret a manger barely came across as a real line it was more like, an experience

the sorry not sorry choreo. its so funny and cute and simultaneously cursed

the way andrea delivered her lines here was just

it was like, cutesy and fun but also kind of cursed

uwu

when she said “are you blind” andrea like, gestured to herself, in a like “look how hot i am” kinda way

which might be the standard? either way it made me laugh a lot

don’t be bitter/cos im fitter was the only line in the entire production said with a british accent and it fucking slayed me on sight one hit ko

i actually like that they changed “mate, what was i meant to do” to “wait, what was i meant to do” because

it implies that anne had no other train of thought than the one she was on and thats very funny to me

i think it fits w andreas portrayal too

everyone was like, fake crying when anne fake walked down the aisle and it was really funny imo

and as soon as she got to the end anne like, turned, yk?

bro just shut up

the entire audience gasped after that

andrea had actual like, panic on her face

then she led into “i guess he just really liked my head”

and there was a beat after that, where everyone laughed

it was long enough that everyone got the joke

then she mimed the blow job

her riff on “hell”? iconic

“wait, didnt you actually die” no jane she was beheaded but she was fine

abby seymour said dumbass rights she has the Dumbest Bitch energy god

“catherine of aragon had tragically died” catch adrianna looking like, yeah it was so sad for me, how terrible, right?

then boleyn goes off

the. fury, passion, anger, zest, contained in andreas “MASSIVE-”

“over my dead body” andrea gave her this look like, youre damn right it will be

heart of stone

oof

okay so the monologue

oof

“i was lucky. okay, i was really lucky” o o f

“edwina” is still cursed tho

i dont know what it was about this. i dont know if it was abby, or the dialogue, or just it being live but

this made it clear that jane had been Through It

like, this monologue came across (to me at least) as unquestionably a “woman who was abused trying to justify it to herself” kind of situation

“and that’s not because i was scared,” she said, wearing an absolutely terrified expression

this is where she started tearing up i think

okay i gotta take a moment here because

abby was fully crying before the song even started

like somewhere about halfway through her monologue she started tearing up

i was looking for it specifically

i wrote this before the last part so see above

so by the first fucking like of hos you could hear her voice breaking

holy shit ms meuller what the fuck

im not kidding who gave her the right

at the stagedoor she said that after this she was like, “well thats it for my makeup” when someone complimented her song

she is crying. the first chorus and she is actively crying. in the breaks between her lyrics you can hear her crying

abby went high on a couple of notes in here

she riffed on “truthfully” and it was, wow

she didnt go for the whistle tones which was, honestly? the most relatable thing in this entire show

but a couple of the other notes she went high on and they were so killer

there was a second or two of pause after the end where everyone just, absorbed things before the applause

i have some questions for abby about this actually because i dont know if its just because the monologue was different than im used to but

i just want to know if abby meant to have everything come off like That but god

the mental gymnastics jane is doing here are so intense

this performance genuinely changed how i listen to hos forever

i dont think i can ever peacefully listen to this song again

this song gave me so many layered emotions thank u abby mueller

haus of holbein

hans................................. *holbein*

the chaos

i honestly barely remember most of it it was

i had no idea who to be looking at

but i remember it being beautiful

i dont have the words to express how

fucking funny it was

the accents were hilarious

like they werent great german accents, but that made it far better

they were leaning into the ridiculousness of it all

the way abby said “but we cannot guarantee that you’ll still walk at forty” had me on the ground

ive spent the last 24 hrs trying to figure out exactly why it was so funny and i think i got it

she dropped the german accent

and she straight up sounded like she was reading off the side effects of a pharmaceutical ad on tv

the freeze frame? legendary

anna and courtney (im pretty sure?) managed to look so genuinely offended that henry swiped left on them

your highness your highness your highness

god adrianna please

actually every h sound that came out of their mouths

but adrianna Got It

get down

oh god i gotta talk about “didnt live up to his expectations”

brittney like, half took off her jacket and gestured to her body and like, body rolled a bit and honestly? i was fucking dead

the sarcasm really jumped out here. brittney went off in the best way possible

she was fully fake sobbing right before “tragic”

fucking legend

brING me some pheasant!

the woof line is always a good moment but their facial expressions really made it work here

this song has the most outwardly complex choreo (ofc i cant speak to its actual difficulty) and every single one of them crushed it

brittney made eye contact w me again on “looking cute” and im deceased

oh god after “take my fur” she whispered “thank you. honestly” and gestured to herself again and like, i was dying

iirc brittney was like, skipping across the stage or something on “i look more rad” and snapped into position for “lutheranism”

we gotta take a moment to appreciate the operatic talent of that one “get down you dirty rascal” instead of the slo mo

like, ofc the slo mo is a good moment but

brittney went full opera and it was,

wow

shes got a voice on her holy shit

so much talent in such a tiny body

aCHYEAH

she picked the person sitting next to me to dance w her and

they did their cute little dance thing and then brittney gestured like, go sit down, and the person did, then stood back up and started dancing again

not like, in a bad way i dont think

it was super fuckin funny and after the song brittney was like “oh that was cute you think youre funny”

but i heard them talking at the stagedoor and like, brittney was chill it wasnt like a violation of anything

im not explaining it very well but it was really funny in person

everything about her on stage was just, so enrapturing

i dont have too many specific notes about this song because it would probably turn into just, me being gay, which is enough of this already

anyway! get down was good brittney mack is a stellar cleves

her fake crying is next level tho

the confrontation

boleyn, unprompted: i lost my head!

the beheaded cousins high fived after “nice neck” and like, stuck out their necks a bit it was so funny

seymours “i died”

we all know abby is gonna kill her line delivery

but GOD

and then after, she like, realized what she had said and struck a pose like, shit please still think im regal

the line itself was actually pretty, uhhhh, sad

theres something about boleyn roasting khoward in andreas voice

courtney with that “and your songs” had perfect timing

also “when will justice be SERVED” had such good punch to it

after she did that she like

rubbed her hand on janes face

and abby looked SO offended

theres something so, sincere about courtneys delivery of her roasts that i hadnt been getting and its SO much funnier to me

i forget exactly where but at some point boleyn aragon and howard were arguing

and in the background it really looked like seymour and cleves were having a normal conversation and i lost it like. they were just chattin

there were a couple moments of like, cleves and seymour interacting and it was interesting

aywd

courtney! mack! took! no! prisoners!

jesus christ

okay so i dont know if other howards do this or if it was just because i was seeing it live and up close and that made the difference but

for me the most compelling part of this howard was the fear

like yes there was the sadness/anger/etc like there was good emotion but

from the “he says we have a connection” re: henry, and then on, everything about courtneys body language just screamed that she was afraid

idk i might expand on this in a separate post because its a darker topic but yeah. holy shit that was emotional

not a single person clapped after the last line. they all waited until after “yeah, and then i was beheaded” before clapping

like the theater was dead silent. DEAD silent

it was like, so haunting because it was just courtney on stage at that point, with just the white spotlight on her, it was a Moment

im not sure i have the heart right now to get too deep into this

if it would be particularly interesting to anyone feel free to ask, im happy to get more into it but idk its just Emotional

actually this is already so long ima go for it

so on each “we have a connection” it was uhhhh parr and aragon (i think) who each put a hand on like, her clavicle

and for the first two verses she grabbed one of the hands and was like, flirty? ig

but on the one about henry seymour also put a hand around her waist and she like

she freaked out

and listening back to the audio i can

unpopular opinion perhaps but the actual emotion of her on stage didnt come thru in the audio

because it was so physical

like you could see how scared she was

which made it more relateable to me honestly

like she looked so so scared

it was heartbreaking

the confrontation part ii

oh BOOH OO MISTERESSES

“okay catherine, babes” is CUTE fight me

anna looked like, progressively more concerned as that beat went on, and then she just kinda like, deflated? it was really funny tbh

idk her parr feels Different than the parr im used to

during “oh im catherine parr i draw the line in arbitrary places” courtney was playing with her hair it was hashtag cute

BACKING VOCALS RIP CATHY PARR

idnyl

a cute little b flat major 7

yeah anna parr seems

hmm

she seems like she’s just, over henry

like from the start she just has no time for him

idk im Conceptualizing

anna uzele is

her voice is next level

she put survived in the “got married to the king became the one who survived” in air quotes which i think is an interesting note

anna got really physically into the “remember that...” bit of it and everyone in the back was also having a good time with it it was Good

andrea. she stuck her pointer finger between two of her other fingers on her other hand for the “my sixth finger” line and it was SO funny

khoward keeping aragon in line was

not the hot take i was expecting but nevertheless the one we deserved

both for “dissolution of the monasteries” and “well actually”

idk it was a cute character moment

one of *unsure, disgusted, vaguely annoyed* siiiIIIiix

abby was right in front of me and she looked SO uncomf

yeah, i read

iconique

andrea like, threw her head back for this line

the pause after “theres not much we can do about it now” is

painfully long and so so so funny

i was only really looking at brittney but she was like, arms down head up no body language it was SO funny

also her “yeah?” ended my life

she raised the mic up to her mouth while not moving an inch of the rest of her body

the part where they get all meta. has me dead

it was about halfway through this second part that i realized cleves had her coat back. i dont know when that happened. if anyone else knows when exactly anna of cleves gets her coat back after it gets taken off in get down please tell me. i genuinely want to know

this actually distracted me

i got vibes that they genuinely hated henry during this part

first off, mood

secondly, good

annas riffing. god.

she is so talented

dsfjksdf they all straight up left

six

the opening moment is really sweet and kinda funny

abby again killing it with janes cursed lines

courtney howard is actually so cute

when shes not being heartbreakingly sad that is

like her “bye!” was so cute

theyre all so supportive of each other its very cute

megasix

adrianna and abby both looked into my camera and like, i died

at the end anna and brittney were doing some dumb shit as they walked off stage and it was SO cute

after the show

i went to the stagedoor and it was a really fun experience! ive never done that before

it seemed like everyone was being pretty respectful and stuff, thank u six fans for being sane

i got four signatures on my program dklfjsldfjds

abby was such a sweetheart, we actually talked a tiny bit

i told her i loved her line delivery (because uhhhhhh i do) and she said that she tries to get in that comedic timing when she has Those Lines and like yeah

she was seriously the nicest

the ladies in waiting came out as well and everyone cheered for them and lets be real they DESERVE it

lemme sidebar here actually and talk about the ladies in waiting because

they killed it

bessie on the bass was living her best life at literally all times

brittney was also super sweet! i told her she had good energy (because uhhhhhh she does) and she was very nice about it!!!

i didnt really talk to anna or andrea but i got their signatures!

also speaking of my program im still losing my mind over “remembered for: headlessness” and “remembered for: staying alive”

thank u sixcago program

in conclusion! this was such a great+special experience!!! all of the actors were incredible, it was so wonderful

im also not claiming any of this stuff was unique to this performance or to sixcago in general this was just the stuff i noticed as i was watching it. if you clown on this post ill end u

[m-oana-archive]

Please Be Naked (Remus Lupin x reader smut)

Summary: You’re finally ready to lose it all to Remus, and who is he to deny you that?

Words: 2963 | read on AO3 | Masterlist 

Warnings: semi-graphic descriptions of sex, explicit language

A/N: If you want to know what song I had on a loop while writing this, it’s “Please Be Naked” by the 1975, hence the title.

Minutes had faded into hours; when Remus retracted his lips from yours, you knew it was due time for the fadeout.  Like any forest fire, the heat between you two went from a mountain to a murmur eventually, always per your request.  Not that Remus’ tongue sliding underneath yours on some kind of mission to outdo God wasn’t good enough, or you didn’t crave the suppleness of his palm in the innermost part of your thighs.  It was quite the opposite, really.  Your entire body undulated under his calculated touches so vigorously you swore you were built to be broken down by his fingertips.  But when the question arose, the question of more and continuing and what was next, everything went still.  You’d cover up your embarrassment with apologies, to which Remus would react by covering your blush with kisses.  “I’ll wait for you,” he’d whisper as if you weren’t surrounded by silence.  But he always whispered in these instances, worried about breaking the delicate thing that is tenderness.  He whispered as often as he promised, “I’ll always wait for you.”  And he did.  Wordlessly.

And thus the normal routine was ending, the crescendo long past, and he was placing a kiss to your forehead to say goodnight in a way only you understood.  Usually, your body had settled by now, the storm cleared.  But as Remus pulled away a gloriously unusual demand parted from your lips.

“Stay.”

Remus’ hands had just started to slide from yours, his back turning in its typical reluctance to leave now, of all times.  It was a picture you had grown to know so well, him departing in the most selfless way.  But then you spoke.  And, thus, the way he turned on his heel so fast he almost spiralled to the floor, the way his face was pale with shock but eyes wide with wonder, the way you could tell he was waging war with a shit-eating grin trying to form on his lips, all created a brand-new picture was a million times more precious.  Your soul sang as your mouth smiled.

“Are you sure? Completely?” he asked with a head tilted downwards and a heart on his sleeve.  Though you had never gone through with the act of sex, no amount of personal inexperience could blind you to how badly Remus wanted you to answer ‘yes.’

And you did.  Because no amount of personal inexperience could blind you to how badly you wanted to continue to the what’s next.  The fire that was usually burnt to ashes never ceased burning this time and you had to, needed to, know about all the other what else’s everyone has always talked about.  

“Fuck,” Remus breathed.  “Okay.  Okay.”  His eyes glossed over with traces of millions of thoughts, mumbling reassurances to himself before cutting the words off with your lips.  All too soon, he retracted.

“You haven’t done this before,” he noted.  Remus breathed deeply at this realization, ungracefully finding his way onto his knees so he was no longer pushing his crotch into yours, spreading your legs all the while.  Once again, he was controlling himself.  Resisting temptation.  There was so much silence as he thought of what to do or say next, it begged of you to ask something to break it as quickly as possible.  Or maybe, there was a desperate tug of your heart, wondering if the same statement Remus said about you could be applied to him.

The question came out on an impulse.  “And you?”  

Remus frowned a line etching itself into his forehead messy with uneven strands of golden brown hair.  “No.  No, it’s not my first time.”  He exhaled deeply after the admission, visibly afraid to be looking at you yet still never ceasing to.   

“Oh.”

You could feel your legs begin to close together slowly by the power of some subconscious force, your face falling on its side in order to not have to look directly at Remus under the same influence.n  “Wait,” he pleaded, grabbing your kneecaps with one hand each.  The feeling of his warm skin touching you, as opposed to the chilled midnight air, demanded your attention be regained.  “You don’t have to do this.  Please know that.  And if you want to go have your first time with someone else who hasn’t had theirs, I understand completely.  I just want to say that, no matter how many times I’ve had sex, even if it were a million times,”–you cocked your eyebrow at him– “It’s an exaggeration!  But even if that was true, it wouldn’t matter.  Because I love you.  And, uh, this will, in a way, be my first time, too, since I wasn’t in love with who I lost my virginity to.  Not even a little bit.  So, lucky for you… ”

“Yeah, lucky for me,” you laughed.  It seemed loud for the space, unceremonious and gawky.  But experiences like this, you decided, were made up of separate moments with individual timelines, allowing for dynamic shifts like the difference between the growl of a lip amidst teeth and the kind of laughter that sinks into your bones warmly.

This mentality also allowed for the silence that followed, the type of quietness that was neither pleading or empty but simply existed.  Your fingers continued their way through Remus’ hair, landing in finale intertwined the back of his neck.  Finally, finally the moment presented itself, on a silver platter and all, and you abandoned yourself to being carried away, feeding fuel to the fire by whispering kisses along Remus’ jawline.  His entire body shook in response, neck craning back, back craning in, and something inside you kept saying more, more, more.  So you pressed your palms underneath the layer of cotton covering his body to touch the layer of skin it was hiding, rediscovering the texture of his ribcage and spine with nothing concealing it, fingertips saying hello to his bruises with the tone of voice of an old friend.  Remus breathed, paused, sucked in, hissed, moaned.  Each genre of sound was your new favorite, and you prayed above all else the music would continue.  

His shirt was the first to be forgotten, thrown into some misshapen lump in a corner of his barely moonlit bedroom.  Maybe you’ve been here before, or some version of this location: Remus shirtless, skin authentically aglow in a starlight sort of manner, scars deeply etched but deeply insignificant when addressing the whole of his graceful limbs and long muscles.  You traced shapes into his chest, watching it stutter in response, entranced.

“You’re stunning,” you whispered before allowing your lips the skin they ached to taste.  He mumbled something opinionated that turned into something incoherent as you dragged your tongue down his stomach, trying to make him shiver and be convinced your virginity was a contradiction to your execution.  You sneakily shifted between positions in order to gain the greatest access possible downwards, then further down, then so far a belt buckle ceased any immediate action.  Fingers touched the cold metal ring, applying a question in the form of pressure.  Remus’ hips bucked, giving an answer in the form of physicality.  The “please,” that dragged out of his throat was, you assumed, supposed to come before the bodily agreement.  But you understood the lack of hold-back, liked it, because it meant you were bothering, enticing, stimulating.  This was the job and you had checked every box on the list that was presented to you thus far.

The unbuckling of his belt was the first artificial sound of the evening, followed by the definitive but soft scraping of his jeans and boxers against his skin while simultaneously being pushed down his legs.  But the third sound–the gulping of your throat–was genuine in all forms of the word, not only as it was made by your body but because it was the first time you had seen all of Remus and it was your first time to do this with something like that and wow, wow, wow…

“You don’t have to,” Remus said besides himself with breaths so shallow, if they were water, the blue would barely touch your ankles.  And that’s why you touched, anyways, explored, eventually learned in, sucked.  Because he was all unbalanced and stuttery, always two words away from completing sentences, rushing through some reactions and prolonging others, saying “fuck” so many times you thought he had bought himself a nonrefundable ticket to Hell.  

So when he asked you to stop, breathing as haphazardly as his caramel hair hung into his closed eyes, the contradiction between the demand and his presumed enjoyment forced you to ask, “was it not good?”

Automatically, Remus denied your doubt without a trace of his own shadowing over his facial features.  If anything, a small smile edged its way onto Remus’ face as he confessed, “that was probably the best I’ve ever had.  God, wanna make you feel the same.”  

Remus began transitioning the tone of the conversation from sentences to moans as he left open-mouthed, obnoxiously short-lived kisses on the side of your lips that distracted you from the way he laid you down subtly.  And, yes, Remus was Remus was Remus but knowing you were heading somewhere, knowing that his hands were under your shirt to take it off and in your pants to get even deeper, added a ferventness to his approach that was intoxicatingly detectable.  There was a strategy to every movement: the pacing of undressing, the dynamic contrast between a suck and a bite, the use of breathing so unevenly up against your begging mouth, but doing nothing to ease that craving.  Remus was teasing you in the most Remus way possible: almost noticeably, almost as if it was a coincidence.  But the sensations that vibrated from the marrow of your bones all the way to the tips of your hair, paired with Remus’ gentle yet seductive smirks, made you certain these actions were no accidents.  

But there was absolutely no concern in your mind that Remus was getting away with the crime, because his body filled yours with something that felt like starlight, so forget righteousness if it prohibited you indulging in your newfound obsession of having his body on yours, atop yours, in yours.  In yours?

“Shit,” you gasped, realizing where his tongue was, tugging at whatever was closest to you deep in the throes of pleasure.  Never before had you felt this, and never again will you be able to kiss that tongue the same way knowing the full throttle of its capabilities.  “Shit, Rem,” you panted.  “Again.  Please.”

He replied simply, somehow sounding as coiled up as you, all breathless and hazy.  “Yeah.  You taste good.”  It was so automatic, so unadulterated in its candid delivery, not even your mouth could not express the hotness of the phrase.  This lead to you arching your back up and craning your neck against a mattress in a way that seems premature, considering Remus’ tongue had yet to return, but was necessary to abide by the scorching sensation inside of your stomach that dissuaded you from caring about logic.  You let that sense guide you, sweep over you unconditionally, as Remus had the audacity to mouth at places without warning, making you blissfully powerless to his tongue and his strategies.  A lick, a nip, a circle, a kiss, a prod, a blow.  You never knew exactly how much your body was capable of feeling until Remus brought it upon you now, self-confident smirk and all, with a dangerously low chuckle while pulling away that made you absolutely disintegrate.

You could hear the heaviness of lust in his voice as he asked, “Fuck, can I finger you now?  I’ll take it slow, of course.  I’ll fuck you slow, too…”

“Remus,” you moaned, lifting your hips up in a way that seems far too desperate considering you should have already felt every possible sensation by now.  

“Sorry, love,” he said.  “I think I’m getting a bit ahead of myself but, shit, I’ve never… just…”

“I know.”  In a moment overflowing with risk, you looked up at him, all raw lipped and glistening, locking your blurred eyes with his.  They were thoroughly dilated, full of a hunger that stemmed from far below their lids, but still stumbled upon your body sweetly, coaxing instead of staring.  Even if this was your first time, the way he looked at you was all the evidence you needed that all physical manifestation between you and Remus would be different than anything else with anyone else.  Better than.  You dipped your fingertips through his disheveled hair, brushing it off of his forehead.  “Go ahead, I’m ready.”  

Remus placed a delicate kiss on your stomach before he lowered down, sputtering out the typical guidance of “relax” and “keep breathing,” in such a short-breathed manner he could have been talking to himself.  But when the first finger dipped inside, hitting places never before explored, suddenly the advice was for you, you and your shallow exhales and clenched knuckles.  In flashes, there was uncertainty, fear, discomfort, all distinctly demoted but easily forgotten as deep breaths turned into small moans and one finger turned into two turned into three.  You were an earthquake held inside a body due to Remus’ touches and constant praises of,  “You’re doing so good, baby,” and  “Yeah, you’re taking it so well.”  His words crawled up your skin, raising hairs and spreading shivers.  It was all too much– Remus’ low growls, thick fingers, perfect aim, unyielding passion– yet your body coiled with an unquenchable thirst for more.

Your hand searched for his pumping wrist, fingers wrapping around the limb in a silent plead to stop.  Remus obliged, looking up at you with a palpable concern that was immediately disintegrated once you said, “I’m ready, Remus.”

“Yeah?” he asked.  His smile was a mix of Firewhisky and safety, somewhere between two and but neither by itself.

You let your own smile take its shape across its face as you nodded.  Remus lifted his face to yours and coaxed apart your lips so gently it felt like praying.  With closed eyes, you only felt his hands pressed against your hot cheeks, only heard his gravelly voice whisper how much he loved you against your mouth.  Too soon he lifted his face away, lifted his whole body off of yours to readjust and it was happening, it was truly happening, right before your now wide-open eyes.  They basked in Remus’ striated skin, his light layering of freckles, his veiny arms; he was beautiful in an overwhelmingly accidental way.  But when Remus’ body edged closer and closer, further and further in, it was impossible to focus on anything other than the holiness that was being this close to him.  Everything felt better than you had ever imagined and you swore Remus’ body, in that exact moment, created the concept of ecstasy.

Remus spent a while above you, his forearms and back receiving unevenly distributed scratches from your fingernails before some unspoken thought or desire brought his torso against yours to allow mouths to press together once more.  Your skeleton melted at the combination of tenderness and friction, the beautiful juxtaposition between heat and hearth, and you found yourself moaning Remus’ name down his own throat in an attempt to counterbalance the intensity of his body being inside yours.  And then, somehow, Remus’ tongue was on your neck, sliding up your jawline, his breath tickling your ear.  “Shit, you feel so good,” he groaned into the shell of it.  “I’m close.”

Your body shook, contorting, back arching at the confession.  “M-me, too,” you replied, surprising yourself due to the fact you could form words.

It happened too soon, the zenith, submerging you under a translucent wave of bliss so thick you thought you were drowning but you didn’t care, you truly didn’t.  It was too good.  Remus’ back was full of your fingertips, digging in so deeply you were surprised you didn’t hit bone.  Every part of your body was arching and clenching, except your mouth, which was frozen hung open in the aftermath of screaming Remus’ name.  

And thus you began a chain reaction: once settled from your orgasm, Remus hit his, screaming “fuck” so loudly you suddenly became aware of what you were doing and where you were doing it.  But that concern was easily distracted as Remus bit down on his unfairly thick lower lip, his eyes squeezed shut just as aggressively, his arms flexed in the act of pulling out.  He was so accidentally gorgeous, even in the throes of it- especially in the throes of it.

The silence that followed was quickly disrupted by Remus’ body falling against the mattress, next to you but not quite separated from.  He stroked your arm from the lopsided angle before repositioning to lay on his side and kiss your shoulder so softly you almost didn’t process the sensation.

“How are you feeling?” Remus asked, the absent-minded stroking returning to your arm as an excuse for his fingers to find their way into yours.

“Tired,” you admitted.  Remus snorted at the response.  “And amazing.”  You turned to face him, watching the hand that imitated the roll touch Remus’ chest.  You observed the patch of skin over his heart through both eyes and fingers before looking up, noticing his eyes were cast on you.  “Thank you,” you said.

Remus laughed, his entire body following the sound out of his throat.  “Are you kidding me?  Thank you.  That was undeniably the best sexual experience of my life.”

A smirk formed across your raw lips.  “So I was worth the wait?”

“Yeah,” he smiled, reclaiming the hand that was sprawling against his chest to kiss the top of it.  “You’re worth everything.”

[entamewitchlulu]

25, 10, 19 and 17 if you want to :P (This is a little awkward, but I just want to say, I know it sounds a little cheesy, but reading your fics was what got me into writing them as well, and I mean that seriously, your work is such an inspiration to me and I just wanted to let you know that I admire your works really and truly from the bottom of my heart)

oh my gosh, wow, ahhhh ; w ; i barely even know what to say, i’m just so, so happy that my work could inspire you to write, that’s like the best compliment i could ever receive, you’re so so sweet!!! welcome to the writing world!!

(okay i will do the meme questions now but know that i am still sending you virtual hugs)

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

oh geez that’s hard but um….i guess i have to go with this segment, spoiler warning for Where Demons Go To Die

“When we get out of here,” he said quietly.  “I’m going to introduce you to everyone, for real.”

Yuuri’s lips curled and he curled himself tighter against the wall.

“Stop,” Yuuri mumbled, closing his eyes.

“I’m going to take you to Iwamaki, my homeland, and we can both see the meadows,” he said.

“Stop.”

“We’ll take Dennis too.  There’s nothing but spread out fields, for as far as the eye can see…not a single wall, or bar, or door anywhere in sight.  You can walk for miles, free.”

“Yuya, stop… please ….”

“And then, we’ll all go together to see the ocean,” Yuya said, tears rolling down his cheeks.  “When we all get out of here, when we all leave together, we’ll go see the ocean.  And nothing will be able to stop us.  We’ll be able to see forever.  We’ll never be imprisoned again.”

Yuuri moaned, putting his hands over his eyes.

“I hate you,” he said.  “I hate you.”

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?

oh i NEED music…and it has to be the RIGHT music.  usually i can’t do anything with lyrics, but it depends on the song, so most of the time i’m listening to video game and anime osts. i cannot write well when there are other people around unless they are also doing quiet activities, if they’re talking i will not be able to write

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

I used this method called “First Draft in 30 Days”, but i only use the parts of the book by that title that I like.  it’s mostly just a bunch of worksheets and outline tools, the one that keeps me the most on track is the Story Evolution sheet which helps me keep track of everything, but in general i’m a very heavy outliner and i use several different documents of notes to keep things organized lol

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

your first attempt doesn’t have to be your last.  don’t beat your head against the same book for five years because you are determined for that one to be The One.  It’s okay to move on when the idea isn’t working anymore.  You can always come back, or more likely, realize that you didn’t really want that story as much as you thought after you finally let it go.  Let it go, and other ideas will come to you.

thank you for your asks, and thank you again for your kind words!!!!

[jeonjungthighs]

Caught In a Dream

Genre; angst, implied smut

Word count; 1.2k

Warnings; cheating, mild sexual themes, extreme freaking angst...get ready

A/N hello everyone! this is my first time writing on tumblr and I hope that everyone will like the content I post on here! now please enjoy this really crappy piece of writing that I will continue later on

Jeon JungKook. That name is all but too familiar for your liking. Everywhere you go, the name, "Jeon Jungkook" is chanted like a prayer; all under his religion. Everyone adores him like some god from a Greek myth or a celebrity from an action movie. But in reality, he's just a normal college student going for a degree in computer science at Seoul National. You hated every single thing about Jeon Jungkook- from the way he talks to the way he walks. You hated how he'd always kiss up to a teacher to get an extra day to finish an essay or how he'd always ask you for help on the simplest  things like cooking rice or how to turn on the heater. You also hated that you were titled one of his best friends. Why? Because you were in love with the boy that is suppose to be your best friend. Jeon JungKook, your childhood best friend is now someone you force yourself to hate - someone you always downgrade in your mind to trick yourself that you weren’t love with him. That you were in love with your best friend.

But what does that do? You always end up falling for his bunny smile, his built physique, his round doe eyes and his soothing voice all over again. Everything about Jungkook bothered you in both good and bad, if that made any sense. You hated his bunny smile because it made him look like a child. But at the same time, you loved his bunny smile because he looked so innocent. Like someone without a single care in the world.

You could never confess to him what you’re feelings, though. JungKook is a taken man. A man taken by none other than your other best friend, and childhood friend. Hyun ShiYoung. ShiYoung, Jungkook and you were always together throughout your lives. You were all born the same year and had houses right next door from one another, your's being in the middle of the three. The three of you grew up together, going to one another's houses on a daily basis or walking to the park that was a few blocks away from where you lived. Back when you were children, you didn’t have to think about finances, feelings, falling in love, school or even getting hurt. Because you knew that there would always be someone looking after you, someone protecting you. Now, you were all on your own. Thinking back to the times where you were so carefree and innocent made a frown come across your face. "Why the frown, (Y/N)?" your seat mate asked as he look up from his computer. You snapped back to reality when you heard his soft voice echo in your mind. Ah, you were in school. "Nothing, Jimin," you answered, a weak smile spread across your lips. You shouldn't be thinking about this now. "Alright. Just tell me if something's wrong ok?" "Mhm. Thank you," you smiled. Your head then turned back to your computer, trying to figure out how the page you were writing for your paper would link to the thesis you were given. You were a law student, studying at Seoul National, same as JungKook and ShiYoung. You were midway into a sentence when the professor announced the end of the period, telling you to leave his class in an orderly manner. "Like that was going to happen." You inwardly told the professor, knowing how  the students in this class were suffering as much as you were, trying to get the year over with. Looking around, you saw students practically running out the door of the class, some even tripping over themselves from walking too fast. Gathering your things, you put your belongings into your bag as you looked for ShiYoung at the door. She always waited for you after this period, knowing that her professor always lets her class out 5 minutes earlier than your professor. When you saw her smiling face, you sighed as you quickly paced down the steps from where your seat was. "(Y/N)! You take forever, hurry up! He's probably already in his car waiting for us!" ShiYoung exclaimed, dragging your wrist the parking lot of the school. "I still don't know why I have to come with you guys. I'm just going to third-wheel your date," you huffed as the two of you continued to walk quickly, approaching a black Mercedes C-350 that was parked with the engine on, waiting for the two of you to enter. Immediately, you walked to the right side of the car, sliding into the backseat, while ShiYoung took her spot in the front passenger seat next to her boyfriend as they shared a peck on the lips as a greeting. "Sorry we're late, (Y/N) here was being a turtle again," ShiYoung joked as her boyfriend start d driving toward the theater. "It's fine. I was only in here for about five minutes anyway," he smiled, looking back at you through the rear-view mirror. "Thanks for coming with us (Y/N). The three of us haven't hung out together much after ShiYoung and I started dating." "Anytime. You guys are my best friends after all," you forced a smile to the boy. "Kookie-ah, what movie are we watching?" ShiYoung looked at her boyfriend lovingly, grabbing onto his hand that was placed on his side. "(Y/N) gets to pick this one. We picked the last two times already." "It's fine if you guys want to pick! I'm cool with anything," you said, not caring much about the movie. "Okay. How about Iron Man? They're playing reruns of them at the theater we're going to," JungKook smiled his bunny smile at ShiYoung, hoping she'd give in. You never really thought about how much Jungkook loved the Iron Man movies until you saw him have a whole collection of action figures. "JungKook, we saw Iron Man last week for date-night. Can we watch that new melodrama movie that came out yesterday? It looks really interesting and (Y/N) said she wanted to see it too, right (Y/N)?" ShiYoung asked, looking back you with a smile on her face. "Huh? Oh yeah, that one. Sure, I guess it seemed cool in the trailers," you answered looking up from your phone. "Alright then, it's settled!" JungKook beams.

Throughout the movie, all the two of them would do was make-out and giggle to each other. That made you feel like an absolute third-wheel. Halfway through the movie, you excused yourself to the bathroom after the two of them stopped making out for a good five minutes.

 Instead of turning to the bathroom, though, you headed straight to the exit, because what you hated most was that you were head over heels in love with your best friend who was in a relationship with another one of your best friends. And that hurts.

A few weeks after the movie with JungKook and ShiYoung, you were on your couch in your apartment, FaceTiming your friend from high school back in Busan. "How's school going down there for you?" you asked JiHoon as he settled down into his chair with a cup of coffee. "It's been ok. Bet the schools up there are better though. Busan is still the same as always, which is good, I guess." JiHoon wasn't always the man of change. He liked everything staying the same, which is why he is currently still in Busan, studying for a literature degree. "That's good. How's your music going? Still writing lyrics?" you asked, earning a bright smile from him. He always loved talking about music. Music has always been his passion and has always been his dream. But instead of taking a music course and going for an entertainment major, he took up the literature major since he thought he wouldn’t need the music major later on. "It's been going great actually! I've been working on a song for this one girl I really like. She works at that coffee shop the four of us used to go to after-school all the time," JiHoon smiles as he thinks about her. JiHoon never tends to take interest in dating and relationships but seeing him happy makes you happy. "That's really great! I'm glad you're happy," you smile at him as you take a sip of your now-cold coffee that's been sitting on your small coffee table for the past two hours. "Does she know about your alias, Mr. Woozi?" you joked as he blushed a light shade of pink. He thought up of that alias when he was just 15- when he first started writing music. "Not yet. Not many people even know that Woozi is me, yet everyone knows who the infamous "Woozi" is. It's comforting to see people liking my music," he smiles. You loved the dedication he put into his music and the meaning of every single song he's ever written. "You seem to like the girl! You should make a move before it's too late." The encouragement in your voice makes you think to yourself. If you've made a move before JungKook and ShiYoung became an item, would you be here now, or would you be wrapped up tightly in JungKook's arms as the afternoon seeped in? "(Y/N-ah. Earth to (Y/N)?" JiHoon snapped at the camera of his laptop, bringing you back from your train of what-if's. "Yeah? Oh sorry, I blanked." "Thinking about him?" JiHoon was the only person beside yourself to know about this crush you've had on JungKook for the past four years. "Yeah, just a brief thought," you said weakly, taking another sip of your cold coffee. You really needed to heat this up. "Just tell the him. You've been in love with JungKook for four years. Four fucking years, (Y/N). That's a long time," he mumbled, writing something down in his notebook. "I don't want to ruin anything..."                                    = Oh you’re definitely going to ruin something. You were pinned up against the wall of a frat party. Pinned by JungKook, ShiYoung nowhere in sight.

“JungKook, w-what are you doing?” you asked, barely able to meet his eyes properly. This is wrong. Something’s wrong. JungKook would never do something like this because he is always, always right.

“Don’t act all innocent, ShiYoung. I saw how you were staring bullets into my back over there. Don’t you think it’s weird for my own girlfriend to not approach me at a frat party?” JungKook asked, his voice slurred, evidence of too much alcohol consumption.

Your eyes widen when you hear her name slip out of his mouth. Was he that drunk to not realize you weren’t ShiYoung? Slowly, you looked up at him, eyes widening when you see him biting his lip, making them red and swollen.

“JungKook-ah, get yourself toge-” you were cut off when his lips crashed roughly onto yours, making you gasp. This wasn’t right, you should push him off, slap him, make him realize he’s with you and not ShiYoung. But you didn’t. You let him kiss you like there was no tomorrow. You let him kiss you like he was actually yours and not her’s.

As the two of you pulled away for air, you looked up into his eyes, filled with lust and desire. No, you told yourself. No, walk away. Run away. Do something to stop him from making a mistake. Stop yourself from making a mistake.

But before you could’ve done anything, his lips crashed back onto yours, but this time, twice as rough and filled with more lust. You were fucked.

 The two of you somehow managed to make it to the second floor, squeezing through many, many other couples passionately kissing on your way up the stairs. Both of you stumbling into an empty room, JungKook didn’t bother locking the door.

“I love you so much,” JungKook mumbled into your neck. You felt a wave of hope that he was talking about you and not ShiYoung but you knew he wasn’t. She was always on his mind. She was always there.

 You let out a whimper as JungKook nibbled at the nape of your neck, surely making a mark and marking you his own, though you knew you weren’t. He started moving his lips down, leaving butterfly kisses along the way down to your collarbone. You let out a gasp as he sucked on a specific spot, making chills run up your spine.

“Only you could make me feel this way, ShiYoung-ah. Oh baby girl, you make me so horny, wearing such a skimpy dress like this. I want to fuck you so hard,” JungKook sighed as he unzipped the back of your dress. “Only you, ShiYoung,” he sighed again as he slammed you into the wall.

Your heart shattered after hearing those words slip out of his lips. This was the moment you were waiting for, though. For the past four years of being in love with him, you’ve always dreamed of this moment. The moment where he would tell you he loved you. The moment where he would leave love marks on you. But all of this was wrong.

“What’s wrong baby girl? You look upset,” JungKook looks at you with concern.

“Nothing, Kookie-ah. Continue, please,” you begged.

That was probably the biggest mistake you’d ever make in your life.

[sleepykichii]

92 Questions Tag

i was tagged by @usershiin and @iviarka (thank u!! ♡ ) RULES: You must answer these 92 statements and tag 20 people.

THE LAST:

1. Drink: water

2. Phone call: uhhhh i think my mom?

3. Text message: i sent five elvis emojis to my dad bc he sends texts saying 'elvis' when he's leaving work

4. Song you listened to: chop suey by system of a down

5. Time you cried: this morning lol

6. Dated someone twice: lol no i have a personal rule to never visit the graveyard

7. Kissed someone and regretted it: absolutely

8. Been cheated on: unfortunately

9. Lost someone special: yeah, some family members

10. Been depressed: currently am

11. Gotten drunk and thrown up: uhhh yeah lets not talk abt that lmaooo

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS:

12.-14.  pink, purple, and lime green!

IN THE LAST YEAR, HAVE YOU:

15. Made new friends: yup!!

16. Fallen out of love: who knows, feelings are too complex for me to try & decipher lol

17. Laughed until you cried: yeah!

18. Found out someone was talking about you: like talking shit? if so, lol yeah senior year was intense dude

19. Met someone who changed you: yup! several someones, actually

20. Found out who your friends are: yup, i have like one real irl friend bc the rest were just using me when i was conveinent. :')

21. Kissed someone on your Facebook list: uh maybe? idk i barely get on facebook

GENERAL:

22. How many of your Facebook friends do you know in real life: dude i dont even know

23. Do you have any pets: sadly, no :c

24. Do you want to change your name: i don't rly like when people say my full name but i like the abbreviated version or any other nickname

25. What did you do for your last birthday: my family went out to dinner and we came home and relaxed, i was sad all day so it wasnt great lmao

26. What time did you wake up: uhhh like ten am? i think

27. What were you doing at midnight last night: gosh i dunno...i think i was drawing? or writing, idk, one of the two

28. Name something you can’t wait for: KILLING HARMONY'S ENGLISH RELEASE YEAH BOIII

29. When was the last time you saw your mom: last night before bed

31. What are you listening to right now: seether - fake it

32. Have you ever talked to a person named Tom: my brother's name is tommy lmaoooo

33. Something that is getting on your nerves: my stomach wont shut up lol

34. Most visited website: tumblr probably

38. Hair colour: dark brown, i dyed it red a while ago so it has a red hue rn

39. Long or short hair: long!

40. Do you have a crush on someone: dude who knows honestly

41. What do you like about yourself: i dont like my body uhhh do my freckles count?

42. Piercings: nope! i rly want my ears pierced n a septum ring tho

43. Blood type: A+ !!

44. Nickname: tay or ouma!

45. Relationship status: uh single i think? i think we're ghosting eachother lmao

46. Zodiac: taurus

47. Pronouns: she/her!

48. Favorite TV show: big brother!!

49. Tattoos: none -- yet!!

50. Right or left handed: right

51. Surgery: let's see...i had severe bladder issues as a kid so i know i had smth done for that, i had my tonsils and adnoids removed...i think that's it!

52. Piercing: uhhh wasn't this already asked? lol

53. Sport: if i had to pick one, it'd probably be swimming! my fave thing is sinking to the bottom of the pool and staring up at the sky its super cool

55. Vacation: uhh its technically summer vacation rn and im not doing anything lmaoo

MORE GENERAL:

57. Eating: nothing,,,

58. Drinking: more water

59. I’m about to: smoke a cigarette bc this is taking longer than i expected

61. Waiting for: my mom to get home so we can go swimming

62. Want: a sense of purpose in life, a direction to follow, the will to live??? idk

63. Get married: that's the goal but...relationships are hard

64. Career: *cue anxiety* ummmm m uhh h hhhhh gjeafslkfjqads

WHICH IS BETTER:

65. Hugs or kisses: definitely hugs ** ok wait is this in like a potential partner? bc thats how im answering these

66. Lips or eyes: eyes

67. Shorter or taller: i generally like guys who are taller than me but for girls i don't rly have a preference

68. Older or younger: i guess ^^ applies here too, i prefer older guys but dont have a preference when it comes to girls

70. Nice arms or nice stomach: stomach i guess? doesnt rly matter to me

72. Hook up or relationship: do i have to pick one?? uhhh i guess a relationship but efjasklmf

73. Troublemaker or hesitant: hesitant!

HAVE YOU EVER:

74. Kissed a stranger: lol yeah

75. Drank hard liquor: ya...oops

76. Lost glasses/contact lenses: i don't have glasses but if i did, i would lose them for sure

77. Turned someone down: yup

78. Sex on the first date: absolutely not!!

79. Broken someone’s heart: maybe?? idk

80. Had your heart broken: yup

81. Been arrested: no

82. Cried when someone died: yup!

83. Fallen for a friend:  lol yeah

DO YOU BELIEVE IN:

84. Yourself: i'd like to!

85. Miracles: yes

86. Love at first sight: not rly no

87. Santa Claus: lol ofc

88. Kiss on the first date: it depends on if it went well or not

89. Angels: it's a nice thought, but no

OTHER:

90. Current best friend’s name: lol i dont want to put it bc i dont want her finding this blog & she doesnt have a common name sry my dudes

91. Eye colour: brown

92. Favourite movie: uhhhh idk!! i watch a lot of movies w my family and can't remember all the titles, sorry^^

holy guacamole okay now that that's over time to tag!

i tag: @kingtatsunari @lesliebruhleria @tokyo-ghouls-eat-rawmen @piningmarco @bertoltssweat @noodlesforlyfe @levi-nyanchou @tiny-heichou and whoever else wants to do it! don’t feel obligated to do this, either;;  ♡

[ungarmax]

Straight up just A-Z, for fics of your choice. Or, whichever letters havent been asked when you get this

anon kept their word and asked literally every question.  LET’S SEE HERE.

A: How did you come up with the title to [insert fic]?

gonna talk about ‘the garden under snow,’ which is the best titled fic of anything i’ve ever written.

it’s story about edward elric, after the end of fma, when he’s just gotten married to winry, and they find out they’re expecting a baby.  ed is struggling with the fact that he doesn’t really have any good fatherly role models, and he wants to know what the answer is to being a good dad.  eventually, ed finds the answer himself when he finds some of hohenheim’s old things.

‘the garden under snow’ refers to a poem in a book i read.  in the book, the main character’s mother passes away, and she’s struggling with the fact that she doesn’t know how her mother felt about her.  while cleaning out the mother’s study, she finds a poem her mother had written about her -- about how she didn’t understand her daughter and didn’t know how to express how much she loved her.

i didn’t go into the story with the parallel in mind, so i felt very clever when i came up with it, even if it’s so incredibly obscure it’s not even funny.

B: Any of your stories inspired by personal experience?

when i was in high school, i wrote a stupid fic about the characters of fushigi yuugi working at my job. :p

C: What member do you identify with most?

i’m guessing this means character -- i’d say barry.  we are all love lup.

D: Is there a song or a playlist to associate with [insert fic]?

most of my fics have songs that inspire them, but most of the time, i tune everything out very succinctly when i’m writing, and the music i listen to is less mood and more blocking out other noises.

nothing gold has an entire playlist and it’s 100% pain.  i don’t have the original document anymore, sadly, but i could probably remember at least half the songs if pressed.

E: If you wrote a sequel to [insert fic], what would it be about?

this is a hard question. a lot of my fics are stand alone stories.  i’ve written some companion stuff for ‘alone among the wreck,’ just more snippets of cloud’s life, but that was specifically written because i hated cloud’s characterization in crisis core so much.  so i’m not sure how many people would want my bitter, pissed off cloud lol.

G: Do you write your story from start to finish, or do you write the scenes out of order?

in order, absolutely.  even if i meticulously plan a fic, stuff still happens that i don’t plan for, and it’s hard to account for that when skipping ahead.

J: Write or describe an alternative ending to [insert fic].

alternate ending to ‘burn the maps that chart your dreams’ : sollux and terezi take over the ship and hot rod around space together for a while.  sollux enjoys controlling a spaceship with his brain.  everyone is happy, except all the people who died earlier in the fic.

L: How many times do you usually revise your fic/chapter before posting?

there aren’t enough times in the world.  this is part of why i haven’t posted the mermaid au, even though the first chapter has been gone over 100 times.

N: Is there a fic you wish someone else would write (or finish) for you?

beauty and the beast au where taako is the beast.

O: How do you begin a story–with the plot, or the characters?

well, the beauty of fanfiction is that the characters are already there.  but i’m definitely a plot guy, even in my original writing.  this is probably one of the reasons i’m bad at ocs -- i make them to fill the story, rather than making a story for them.

P: Are you what George R. R. Martin would call an “architect” or a “gardener”? (How much do you plan in advance, versus letting the story unfold as you go?)

it depends.  little one shots, i’ll have a basic idea but i won’t outline or anything.  longer stuff, i might just be writing for the sake of writing, in which case, i won’t bother planning too much ahead.  if i want to finish it and post it or something, i’ll outline it.  but i do sometimes start a fic without finishing an outline, so...yeah.

Q: How do you feel about collaborations?

reading them?  if they’re done well, that’s great.  writing them?  i dunno, i’ve never tried.

V: If you could write the sequel (or prequel) to any fic out there not written by yourself, which would you choose?

now there’s a loaded question.  kinda feels...disrespectful to do that?  i dunno.  i’d have to get permission first.

W: Do you like more general prompts, or more specific ones?

eh, i don’t really do prompts.  i can barely write my own ideas, much less anyone else’s.

Y: A character you want to protect.

i like making everyone suffer a little bit.  i guess angus?  angus doesn’t need to suffer.  he’s a kid.  i don’t want kids to suffer.