#which is apparently just shy of 900 words a day

[thedemonscrawler]

I am not exaggerating when I say that I'd probably be done with Permission Slip by now if SAMS Eclipse hadn't taken up residence in my brain |'D

[distant-velleity]

back at it again with the crack fics

summary - i love you scarabia student B (not)

word count - 900+

warnings - dumbasses

tagging - @thehollowwriter

~

Ace sighs, flicking a card out of his sleeve. “This is so boring. Anyone wanna play cards?”

“Not with you,” says Deuce, his legs draped across Jack’s lap.

“Y’always cheat,” agrees Epel from his seat on the couch’s armrest.

“It’s pointless to play with someone who plays unfairly!” declares Sebek, seated on a pillow on the floor.

Jack nods in solemn agreement.

“You all suck.” Ace sits up to look at Chrysos, who’s leaning against the windowsill and staring outside. “What about you, Mr. Poker Face?”

“Don’t feel like it,” mutters Chrysos, narrowing his eyes intently at the sight beyond the glass.

“Ya look like a maiden whose husband went off to war,” Epel comments sarcastically.

Deuce shrugs. “I mean, Santiago did go outside to spy for us…”

A huff comes from Sebek. “For what noble cause? It can hardly be considered a war.”

“And he’s not my husband,” adds Chrysos, a little too late.

“Sure—”

Before Ace can finish, a parrot comes soaring in from the hallway. Santiago transforms in the middle of the Ramshackle lounge in a burst of feathers.

“You guys!” he exclaims. “You’ll never believe what just happened outside.”

It’s like he flipped some kind of switch—all the freshmen are instantly energized again, paying full attention and bombarding him with questions.

“Did that Scarabia guy say something?”

“How’s Yu?”

“Tell us the details!”

“You didn’t get caught, right?”

“Okay, wait, slow down!” Santiago holds up his hands. “‘Kay, so that guy who asked Yu to step out and talk with him for a bit. The August dude. He had an envelope with him and said the contents were really important. So I didn’t think much of it ‘til he shoved it into Yu’s hands and waited for him to read it.”

“Most improper behavior,” Sebek mumbles (which would just be normal volume for most people) distastefully, and no one disagrees for once.

“Right?” Santiago asks. “Anyway, listen to this: Yu asked him what his intentions were, ‘cause apparently the entire letter was just poetry, and then August bowed and asked Yu to go out with him?? So that’s where we’re at right now—”

The group explodes into a cacophony of shouts and protests.

“So he’s the guy who’s been leaving those poems in front of Ramshackle?!”

“First he chased you and Yu to Octavinelle during winter break, and now this?”

“Yu’s gonna say no, right? Tell me he’ll say no!”

“This is absolutely unacceptable!!”

“I’ma give him a piece of my mind—”

“Guys.” Jack’s ears twitch. “We can stand here yellin’ about it all day, but it’s happening right now. We gotta act.”

“Say less,” Ace replies immediately, rubbing his hands together.

They all make a beeline for the front door, tripping over each other, but with a clear goal in mind.

…

Compared to the last few times he was crushed on, Yu has never been in a situation like this.

“—I’ll get you flowers every day, I’ll do whatever you want,” insists August, a little aggressively desperate. “Won’t you date me?”

It’s very uncomfortable.

“Um…” Yu acts shy, tucking a strand of his hair behind his ear. In reality, he wants to get away from the demands he’s endured for the past few minutes. The poetry was good, though, and that’s about it. “I don’t know, really… I think—”

“YU!”

August pales as Ace runs up to them, planting himself firmly in front of the TA.

Yu is equally dumbfounded, though more innocently. “Ace?”

“Yu~uuuu,” whines Ace, playing the part of a bratty boyfriend as he leans forward to cup Yu’s cheeks in his hands. “Didn’t you promise we’d spend more time together today? What are you still doing with this guy?”

“Wait, you’re taken?” August asks incredulously, just in time for Santiago to swoop in as a bird, transform, and blind him with an explosion of feathers.

“Sorry, Ace,” Yu plays along in a placating voice. “As soon as this is taken care of, we can do whatever you’d like.”

Ace’s eyes light up with mischievousness only Yu can see. “Promise?”

Behind him, Epel kicks August in the shin. Deuce, Chrysos, Sebek and Jack work together to drag the Scarabia student away silently. Santiago catches Yu’s eye and offers him a thumbs-up.

Yu sighs in fond exasperation and looks back at Ace. “Haha. No. Whose plan was this?”

“It was an unanimous group decision. Aren’t you gonna thank us?”

The rest of their squad, with poor August in tow, exit Ramshackle’s gates and head down the path to the Hall of Mirrors.

“Maybe,” Yu concedes. “When they get back from tormenting him.”

“Cool.”

Ace grins.

“And for the record, I would still definitely be a better boyfriend than that guy if we were actually dating.”

Yu punches him in the shoulder.

(BONUS:

Jamil can only watch as Yu’s band of menaces unceremoniously dump one August Ventus at his feet. He almost feels bad for the freshman. Almost.

“He’s all yours,” Jack says gruffly, and turns to leave Scarabia through the mirror. Everyone else but Santiago follows suit.

Except for the desert winds, there is silence.

“So,” Jamil finally says, “what happened here?”

“You can ask August for the details,” Santiago replies, sounding unusually happy considering the situation.

August groans.

“I’m sure he wants to tell you exactly what happened,” continues Santiago. At this point, he can’t stifle his smirk.

“You suck,” August complains weakly, rolling onto his back to sit up.

Santiago snickers at him. “Sucks more to be you.” He turns to Jamil and beams. “Have fun dealing with him. See ya.”

He runs off towards the dorm building without elaborating.

Freshmen. Jamil watches and shakes his head in resignation, then turns back to August. “…So, again, care to explain?”)

[lampmanliveblogs]

”Just ’cause he’s got tall genes doesn’t mean he’s a god.”

This was supposed to be a sad episode. STOP. BEING. FUNNY!

(Hooty hugging King is cute though)

A heist, you say? Up here on the snowy, wintery Knee? Would that make it a….. Winter Heist!?!?

(I wrote just shy of 1 900 words on the next chapter of winter heist today*. this put that single chapter at a little over 10k words. and. i. am. still. not. done.)

((*yesterday by the time you read this))

Anyways, Eda doesn’t want to admit to the kids that they really don’t have a plan and that they have no idea how to stop Belos. She makes up an excuse for not telling Luz about it, which Luz apparently buys. She then asks them if they could do anything in the world, what would they do?

It’s… kinda morbid. Because Eda is grappling with the very real possibility that they will fail, all hope is gone and they will die. So she wants to give her kids the best last day she can. It’s heavy stuff, jeez.

I love you Lilith.

I dunno Eda, I don’t think a beach episode would be a god idea. Not because I think it wouldn’t be fun, I can see the writers pulling off some funny stuff, like, oh, I don’t know… haunted sand castles or something. No the real reason is because I don’t think we could trust Amity to, ah… behave herself around Luz.

Ahem.

(oh, and something about Eda trying to look brave in front of Luz while she’s a mess inside and how it’s heart wrenching and stuff)

I wonder what these twenty adventures Luz is talking about are? Cause there’s more than twenty episodes worth of adventures. Then again… Agony of a Witch and Young Blood, Old Souls was a two parter so that might count as one adventure… and Luz wasn’t in the last episode…

You know what, I’ll have to return to this thought later in a follow-up post. ”The Twenty Adventures of Luz the Human.” Yeah, that sounds cool. For now, I can’t let myself be distracted.

Whoa, what’s going on here? Are the witches of the Boiling Isles already moving to the head?

I suppose it makes sense… there’s only what, five or four days left now? I’m not sure what the population of the Boiling Isles actually looks like, but there’s gotta be a few thousand witches, right? Moving that many people to one spot is no small task and requires a lot of organization and coordination. It’s best to move people in smaller groups over a longer time to avoid chaos. I at least hope the Emperor’s Coven is providing food, water, and shelter for these people. Anything else would just be inhumane.

This is some great atmosphere here, with the mist and the oppressive drums and the people with their candles and cloaks looking like the most depressing Lucia procession ever.

[prettyboyporter]

Hiya. I’m the anon who sent you that prompt, perhaps the prompt can still remain the same but when Max calls Steve, it’s because Billy left to find a demo dog on his own or something and succeeded but got hurt in the process, which could lead to the confession and hurt/comfort soft. Would that work?

Hey! Okay -- I ended up changing it up a little bit lol -- I hope you still like it!!! 

~*~

Steve was putting away the harvest-colored hand me down Tupperware that Mrs. Henderson had given him for his new apartment.  He was making progress -- almost to the bottom of the box marked kitchen when he heard crackling coming from the sound of the bedroom down the hall. 

He dashed the four steps down the hall to the bedroom, located the box where the crackling was coming from, and dug to the bottom to find the walkie. 

“Steve, this is Max. I don’t have your new phone number yet. Come in. Max to Steve.”

He fumbled it, cursed, and righted it in his hands. “What’s up Max?” 

“Hey. I need your help. Billy thought he heard something in the woods and went out there by himself. I tried to stop him but he was all fuck off Max I can handle this. Ugh. Can you, like, come and help him?” 

Billy had only been out of the hospital for two goddamn weeks, still wrapped in bandages and unsteady on his feet still and trying to go confront whatever might be out there was the dumbest fucking thing Billy could be doing right now. 

Steve had visited him every day during his hospital stay, helping to keep him entertained. Mostly Billy seemed to enjoy the fact that Steve smuggled him smokes, but when Steve started visiting Billy at home, Billy touched Steve’s shoulder and let his hand linger. “Thanks man,” he said. His hand squeezed. He he glanced down at his shoes -- he seemed goddamn shy all of a sudden. He blushed -- and then he kissed Steve’s cheek. “For everything.” 

That moment had replayed in Steve’s mind about 900 times since then and he had a moment where he spiraled and imaged what kissing Billy would feel like -- what getting heated with Billy would feel like. He stroked himself teasingly, taking his time and letting his imagination run wild, and stayed awake all night panicking. He confessed it all to Robin the next day.

They made a plan. There was an entire multi-step strategy planned out but this shit right here -- Billy wandering into the goddamn woods close to midnight with wounds that had yet to heal -- this threw a wrench in his carefully executed next step. 

Steve drove down to Cherry Lane, grabbed his flashlight and bat, and headed for the dark line of trees standing sentinel at the roads’s edge. 

He swung his flashlight around, calling, “Billy!” as quietly as he could manage. 

A few frustrating minutes passed where he thought maybe he wouldn’t find Billy -- and then the light from his flashlight hit a denim jacket. 

Billy was leaning with his back against a tree trunk, face buried in the palms of his hands. 

“Billy, jesus christ are you hurt?” Steve scurried up and checked Billy from head to toe, looking for any possible injury. 

“Nah. I’m fine, man,” Billy said. His voice sounded strained from behind his hands though. 

And when Billy lowered his hands, his eyes and nose were red and his nose a was a little snotty. 

“Listen I know I have a reputation of being this kinda dumb guy but I’m gonna go ahead and say you don’t look fine.” Steve stepped closer. 

Billy huffed a laugh. “I just got a little freaked out. I heard a big crack somewhere in the woods and freaked out, yknow? Like all I could think about was that fuckin thing that got in my mind. I came out here ready to fuck shit up. I wanted to kick some alternate universe ass. And here it is. The big bad monster.” He kicked a large branch by his foot, edges jagged, lying where it had apparently snapped and fallen off. 

Steve gestured toward Billy’s shirt, made lumpy with all the bandages under it. “Honestly -- you’d probably just injure yourself. You’re, like, nowhere near ready to fight these things. I’ve done it, Bills. They’re no joke.” He stepped up closer -- right into Billy’s space, and risked putting his hand on Billy’s arm, squeezing once before sliding it up. “Next time call me. Okay? Call me, or call Hopper. We’ll help you. You absolutely wouldn’t be able to handle this shit on your own.” 

Billy smiled and glanced up at Steve. “I just -- I want it to understand what it did to me. If I could dish that pain right back, turn the tables and fuck it up like it fucked me up? I would.” 

Steve tugged Billy into a loose hug, and Billy reached foward to wrap his arms around Steve’s waist. “I know, Billy. Trust me when I say I’d help you do it. But call me first. I don’t want anything happening to you.” His fingers started to play with the curls at the ends of Billy’s hair. 

“No?”

“Nope,” Steve said, and then out of no fucking where, because it felt like the right thing to do, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to Billy’s. 

Billy pulled back sharply and Steve’s stomach dropped to his feet. 

Billy’s eyes searched Steve’s face. “Been waiting a year for that, pretty boy,” he said, then stepped foward so hard that Steve had to step back as Billy started kissing Steve. 

Hand in hand they walked back to Billy’s house. Max was sitting on the porch and Steve quickly pulled his hand away, but she just smiled. “Don’t go out there alone again. Asshole,” she said. A smirk formed on her lips. “So. You two are, uh. Together?” Her voice raised on the last word. 

“Fuck off Maxine.”

Steve smiled and regarded the gravel. 

“Billy and Steve, sittin in a tree.”

“Swear to god, Max.”

“K I S S I-” She was cut short when Billy picked up a few pebbles and chucked them at her. She ran into the house, shrieking and laughing. 

The door closed behind her. Alone again, Steve tugged Billy close and spent a couple minutes taking it slow -- running his lips teasingly along Billy’s before Billly stepped back. “I better go inside now.” 

“Yeah. Uhm. Wanna come over tomorrow? Seven? You can be my first guest. I’ll make us Hamburger Helper.”

“They say a way to a man’s heart-” 

“Hamburger Helper’s not to your heart. I just wanna get in your pants, Billy.” 

Billy smiled. “You think I’m that easy? Hamburger Helper’s gonna get you some dick?” 

“Yep. I do.”

Billy ran up to kiss Steve’s lips once and reached down to squeeze the bulge in his jeans. “You’re fuckin right it will.” 

Steve kissed Billy once more and walked up to his car, turned once to watch Billy wave at the front door. 

On the drive home, he started making a shopping list. A trip to Bradley’s Big Buy in the morning would be in order. 

[burstingsunrise]

hi molly💛 from the one hundred ways to say I love you prompt list, can i request “I bought you a ticket.” with lashton? thank you 💛

hi em!!! 💜 sorry this took me 900 years, but here, finally, is some wintery lashton for you.

words: 3734 tw: none

on ao3 here.

It’s abnormally dark when Luke wakes up. It’s not unusual for the sky to be dark – Luke wakes up a solid hour before sunrise. But where are the street lights that usually illuminate his bedside table through his blinds? It’s also really fucking cold. It’s been unseasonably cold out over the past few days, but Luke’s not shy about cranking the thermostat. Maybe he forgot to flip on the heat before he went to bed last night.

What time is it? He looks at his phone. 5:49. He flicks through his notifications, and he finally realizes why everything feels wrong. The power is out. He has a text from the energy company informing him of a blackout due to “unprecedented demands on the power grid.” What the fuck does that mean?

He tumbles out of the mess of blankets in his bed and peeks through his blinds. The street is completely dark, but the moon is still out, bright enough that he can see it – inches of fresh snow coating the ground. He flips to his weather app, which informs him the temperature is in single digits.

This just doesn’t happen in L.A. Wildfires, heat waves, earthquakes, sure. But below freezing temperatures and inches of snow? Not so much. He flicks back over to his text from the energy company and taps the link to get more information, but his browser just spins on the loading screen. That’s just great. He tries sending a text to Michael.

Luke: you have power?

Michael: no. fuck this. how are we supposed to get our mcr tickets?

Okay, so he’s got service but no data. Less than ideal, especially since, as Michael pointed out, they’re supposed to be trying for My Chemical Romance tickets later this morning. As if the odds weren’t already stacked against them enough just based on sheer demand, it looks like now they might not have a way to even try to get tickets.

Luke climbs back under his covers to warm up while he assesses the situation. No heat. No internet. No indication when he will have his electricity back. Fuck. What a great Monday this is shaping up to be.

The last thing he wants to do is go outside, but he can only put off walking Petunia for so long. With a heavy sigh, he slides out from under his covers again and opens the door to his closet. He’s hit with a blast of freezing air, and he quickly reaches in to extract a handful of the warmest things he can find by the light of his phone. He pulls on sweatpants and a hoodie and uses his phone to light his way to the living room.

“C’mon Petunia,” he calls behind him. “I know you don’t wanna, but we have to go outside.” He hears Petunia’s collar jingle as she jumps off the bed to follow him. He bundles up as best he can in his heaviest jacket, a hat and gloves, and they venture into the dark. Luke sucks in a breath when the cold hits his skin, unaccustomed to the bitterness and the way it steals the air from his lungs. It’s actually kind of beautiful to look at, though – his entire neighborhood is covered in a fresh blanket of white snow, lit only by the soft glow of moonlight bouncing off the snowy surfaces.

Petunia leads them out to the sidewalk and Luke smiles at the sight of her little pawprints in the snow ahead of him. They walk a bit further, and Petunia sniffs determinedly at a bush in front of the neighboring house. It’s dark enough that Luke doesn’t notice the figure ahead on the sidewalk until he’s just a few feet away.

“Crazy day, huh?”

Luke whips his head up, startled by the voice in the otherwise quiet early morning air. It’s a man bundled a bit more practically than Luke is, with an actual winter coat and scarf and boots. All the layers mostly obscure the guy’s face, but he sounds friendly, and apparently is better at finding humor in less-than-desirable circumstances than Luke is.

“Yeah,” Luke mumbles back.

“I’m Ashton,” the guy says. “New neighbor? Moved in last month.” Ah. Luke is familiar with the new neighbor. Hot Neighbor, as he has oh-so-creatively dubbed him in his mind. While this is their first official meeting, Luke definitely noticed Hot Neighbor moving in several weeks prior. Sweat was dripping down his face and neck, soaking through his flimsy T-shirt, as he unloaded boxes from a U-Haul trailer, biceps straining, and Luke hasn’t stopped noticing him since.

He’s watched Hot Neighbor gardening on a few occasions, which is fun because Hot Neighbor often gardens shirtless, even when it’s 50 degrees outside. Luke supposes it’s because of the sweat issue. He’s also watched Hot Neighbor unload groceries from his car, do yoga in his backyard, wash his car, and mow the lawn. He does most of those activities shirtless as well. Luke might feel bad about watching Hot Neighbor through the curtains, but honestly, how could he not? It’s basically porn.

“Yeah, um—” Luke’s words are creaky and heavy with sleep. He clears his throat. “I’ve seen you around. I’m Luke, and this is Petunia. I’d say welcome to the neighborhood, but…well.” He gestures at the snow and darkness surrounding them.

Hot Neighbor grins, and his hat droops over his eyes with the movement. “Nice to meet you, Luke!” Hot Neighbor – Ashton – is far too chipper given the circumstances. “I saw you out here with Petunia and figured I’d check and see if you’d heard the news.”

“I know we don’t have power, obviously. Is there more?” Luke asks, cringing in anticipation of the answer.

“They’re saying it might be days before we get it back.”

“Days? Plural?” Luke leans in, making sure he didn’t mishear Ashton over the swirl of the wind.

“Yeah,” Ashton says apologetically, shoulders shrugging around his ears. “Probably going to get pretty cold. This weather is supposed to last at least a week.”

“Shit.” Luke bounces on the balls of his feet to stay warm. The wind is starting to seep through his jacket, and his sneakers are soaking up snow like a sponge. “What does that mean?” It’s a rhetorical question; Luke’s trying to think through the implications of a situation he has never been in nor expected to be in.

Ashton answers it anyway. “Well, your house is going to get really cold, like I said. Need to be careful about the pipes bursting. Lots of stores and restaurants are closed because they don’t have power, and roads are terrible, so getting food might be kind of a pain for the next few days. And I guess you can’t really cook, unless you have a gas stove.”

Luke stares at Ashton with his jaw dropped, completely unprepared for the amount of terrible news he was just given. Anxiety is bubbling under his skin and he takes a few deep breaths to try to calm himself. They don’t feel right with the heavy, cold air. “I’m going to die,” he says plainly. “Petunia is going to die, and it will be my fault.”

Hot Neighbor – shit, Ashton – has the gall to giggle at Luke’s distress. And maybe it’s kind of a cute laugh, but Luke’s too distraught to appreciate it. He gives Ashton a dirty look and Ashton looks appropriately guilty. “Don’t worry, Luke. I’ll make sure you and Petunia don’t die. You have a fireplace? Gas stove?”

“No and no,” Luke says, wondering why Past Luke was so convinced he could never possibly need a fireplace in the L.A. climate. Past Luke was an idiot. A complete moron.

“Oh. That complicates things a little.” Ashton fusses with his hat, tugging it lower on his ears, then pushing it higher on his forehead. He seems to be wrestling with something, but Luke is cold and anxious, and he’s getting impatient to get back inside and try to figure out how he’s going to survive.

“I guess I should –” Luke gestures back toward his house and starts to spin on his heel.

“Wait.” Ashton’s voice stops Luke mid-spin. The heel of his sneaker slides out from under him on the slick ground, and he starts to topple over sideways. Suddenly Ashton’s hand is under his elbow, steadying him before he faceplants into the snow next to the bush Petunia just peed on.

“Holy shit,” Luke gasps, body flashing warm from adrenaline. “Thank you. I nearly cracked my face open.”

“We can’t have that,” Ashton says, eyeing Luke intensely as he slowly extracts his hand from underneath Luke’s elbow. “Before you almost smashed my lemonade berry shrub, I was going to say…I have a fireplace, and a gas stove. And I’m stocked on food and water. You’re welcome to come and stay for a bit if you need to. Petunia, too, obviously.” He nods at Petunia, now snuffling around Ashton’s feet curiously.

It’s a generous offer. Luke’s mind whirs, trying to weigh the pros and cons. On one hand, Hot Neighbor is asking Luke over to his house, a scenario which Luke has imagined many times, and in his imagination, Luke’s not just getting a cup of sugar from him.

On the other hand, Hot Neighbor – fuck, Ashton – is still basically a stranger, and Luke’s social skills aren’t exactly built to withstand awkward interactions with people he barely knows.

“Oh, thank you. I, er – I guess we’ll see how it goes? Might come by if things get dire.” Luke smiles broadly to try to offset the potential rudeness he didn’t realize might come across in his words until they were already out.

Ashton’s face drops slightly “Cool. Well. Just swing by if you need anything,” Ashton says, smile now recovered but voice hollow.

“I’m trying to get concert tickets!” Luke doesn’t know why he says it; probably a last-ditch attempt to salvage the situation enough that Ashton doesn’t think Luke hates him and would rather freeze to death than spend time with him.

Ashton looks at him, mystified, but with a gleam in his eye that hadn’t been there a second ago. “It’s just, My Chemical Romance tickets go on sale this morning?” Luke says. “And my friend Mike and I are trying to get tickets, and it’s going to be really hard, and…I just need to catch up with him. Figure out what our plan is for trying to get tickets now.”

“I love My Chemical Romance,” Ashton says, throwing his hand over his heart for emphasis. Luke files that away, a new fun fact for the Hot Neighbor folder in his brain. “Does your friend have power?”

“Nope.” Luke lets his dejected tone speak for itself.

“Shit. Sorry.” Luke shrugs. “Maybe you’ll be able to figure something out,” Ashton says, looking almost as helpless as Luke feels.

“Yeah, maybe.” Luke smiles at Ashton, a full-on smile to try to make up for being such an antisocial bummer, but it makes his teeth so cold he can only hold it for a couple seconds before he has to close his mouth. “It was nice officially meeting you, Ashton.”

“You too.” Ashton seems distracted, lost in thought for a moment, but he quickly recovers. “And seriously, come by if you need anything at all, or if you just need to warm up by the fire.”

“Thanks, I will.” Luke nods appreciatively and scurries back towards his house, eager to get out of the cold. For once in her life, Petunia seems equally enthusiastic about getting back inside, and she clips at Luke’s heels eagerly.

***

Much to Luke’s dismay, going inside isn’t the relief he was hoping for. It’s almost as cold in his house as it was outside. “At least it’s not windy,” he grumbles, toeing off his soaked-through shoes by the door. He screeches as he hightails it across the freezing cold laminate flooring to his room to get a pair of warm, dry socks.

Poor Petunia is shivering by his feet as he rifles through his sock drawer, so Luke digs out an old T-Shirt for her to wear. He’ll never make fun of people who buy sweaters for their dogs ever again. Once he and Petunia are both appropriately bundled, he gathers all the blankets he can find and piles them on his couch, then slides under the pile as gracefully as he can. Petunia nudges into his side, curling up in a ball in the blanket nest.

Okay. So now he’s sitting in the dark, shivering under a giant pile of blankets, with literally nothing to do. He calls Michael and they spend a few minutes trying to hash out a potential plan for MCR tickets, but neither of them comes up with any viable ideas. So much for hearing The Black Parade live.

Luke tries reading, his eyes straining in the dim light of the early morning. It’s too cold for his hands to grasp the book, and he’s getting a headache, so he gives up and throws the book across the room. He jams his hands under his blankets and closes his eyes, trying to fall asleep.

Maybe he sleeps a little bit, a few minutes here and there, but it’s still so fucking cold, he keeps waking up shivering. This is torture. He’s bored out of his mind and he’s freezing, and there’s no end in sight. He looks at the clock. It’s not even noon yet. Fuuuuuuuck. To add insult to injury, MCR tickets went on sale at 10. They’re certainly sold out by now.

“Hey Petunia,” Luke calls, smiling when Petunia’s head pops up from her own blanket nest. “Wanna bother Hot Neighbor?” She cocks her head to the side, and her mouth opens into a smile. Luke takes that as a ringing endorsement.

**

Ashton opens his door with a grin, and now that there’s daylight, and Ashton isn’t covered in layers of outerwear, Luke can see his fucking dimples and his fucking otherworldly hazel eyes, both features Luke hadn’t been able to make out clearly while he was perving on Ashton from his kitchen window. He’s wearing sweatpants and a hoodie and these absurd bright purple slippers designed to look like cowboy boots, and maybe Luke is in love. A problem for another time.

“It’s really cold,” Luke says in lieu of a greeting. He often gets called out for being dramatic, but in this case his teeth really are chattering against his will, and Ashton’s eyes fill with concern.

“Come warm up.” Ashton opens his door wide and gestures for Luke and Petunia to come in. Luke takes off his shoes but doesn’t bother to shed his coat. He can feel the heat from the fireplace before he sees it, and he blindly follows it down a hall and around a corner, tugging Petunia behind him. It’s probably rude to just let himself in like this, wandering a stranger’s house freely, but he’s too cold to care.

“Sit down by the fire,” Ashton calls from behind him. “There are tons of blankets on the sofa. I’ll get you some hot chocolate.”

Luke’s ears perk up at the promise of a hot drink, and he eagerly plops on the sofa in front of the fireplace, wrapping two clashing patterned fleece blankets around his shoulders. Petunia settles herself on the floor about an inch away from the fireplace, basking in the warmth with a series of pleased grunts. Luke smiles to himself, feeling his shoulders relaxing just knowing Petunia is comfortable again.

He sits quietly, burrowing his chin into his blankets and letting the warm air in Ashton’s living room slowly defrost him. Ashton’s house has windows and skylights, and even with the gloom outside, it’s a million times brighter than Luke’s house. Ashton bustles around the kitchen, putting on the kettle and opening and closing drawers. “You want marshmallows?” he calls.

What kind of magical fantasyland is Hot Neighbor’s house, honestly? Luke pokes his head out from his blankets. “Do I want marshmallows?”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Ashton digs a bag of mini marshmallows out of the pantry and Luke watches as he dumps approximately half the bag into one mug, then counts out five marshmallows to place into the other. He picks up the mugs and comes over to the sofa, holding out the mug overflowing with marshmallows to Luke.

“Thank you!” Luke takes the mug eagerly and cradles it to his chest, savoring the warmth on his hands. Most of him has already warmed up after just a few minutes in front of the fire, but his hands are still ice cold.

“No problem. You earned it after spending all morning freezing your ass off.” Ashton sits down next to Luke, setting his mug on the coffee table so he can rearrange the remaining blankets into a cocoon.

Luke scoffs. “I don’t know about that. Kind of my own fault. I was severely unprepared for this situation. I didn’t even know it was supposed to snow.”

“When almost every day is sunny and 70 degrees it’s easy not to bother with checking the weather,” Ashton reasons, watching Luke happily licking up marshmallows one at a time with his tongue.

“I guess,” Luke replies, swallowing quickly so Ashton doesn’t catch a glimpse of partially chewed marshmallow goo in his mouth while he talks. “Still, though. We’d be in big trouble if we hadn’t run into you.”

“I’m glad you decided to come by,” Ashton says. “I’ve been meaning to come over and introduce myself properly.”

Luke laughs. “And now you’re going to get to see more of me than you could ever want.”

“Planning on moving in?” Ashton teases, jostling them a bit as he reaches to grab his own mug off the coffee table.

Luke blushes, burying his head back into his blankets. “I just mean that I can be pretty annoying. You’ll probably be sick of me before we even finish our hot chocolate.”

“Doubt that, mate.” Luke catches a quick flash of Ashton’s mischievous smile, and then before Luke realizes what’s happening, Ashton gulps down his entire mug of hot chocolate in one go and sets it down hard on the table, letting out a dramatic and satisfied “ahhhhh!” after he swallows.

“What the fuck?” Luke asks, genuinely delighted. He can’t quite figure Ashton out, but he is really having a good time trying.

“Finished my hot chocolate and I’m not sick of you yet,” Ashton says simply, a proud grin on his face. Luke’s chest fills with butterflies and maybe he’s reading this wrong – he barely knows Ashton, after all – but that’s not going to stop him from losing his mind over it, silently, while Ashton watches him drink is own hot chocolate.

“I hope it lasts, then,” Luke says.

“I wouldn’t worry,” Ashton says. “So, Petunia’s into the Backstreet Boys, then?” He cuts his eyes at Petunia, sprawled out on her side next to the fire.

The old T-shirt Luke had put on her is one of his prized thrift store finds – a Backstreet Boys Into the Millennium tour shirt, white and yet somehow completely free of armpit stains. Unfortunately, his shoulders outgrew the shirt about three years ago, but he can’t bring himself to get rid of it. His loss, Petunia’s gain.

“Yeah, she’s a big fan.” Luke pauses to finish his drink, then smirks at Ashton. “Don’t tell me you’re an *NSYNC kind of guy. Petunia might force us to leave, and I’m just starting to thaw out.”

“Obviously I’m not an *NSYNC kind of guy.” Ashton says, indignant. “I have taste!” There’s some awkward movement under his blankets, like he’s attempting to gesticulate wildly but has forgotten he’s trapped in the confines of a blanket prison.

Luke hides his smile behind his own blankets. “That’s a relief. I’m really enjoying your fireplace.”

“Just my fireplace?”

Luke raises his eyebrows and Ashton gives him a dirty look, then returns his gaze to Petunia. “How’s she feel about My Chemical Romance?”

Luke’s face drops at the reminder of The Great MCR Ticket Debacle of 2021. He sighs. “She loves them,” he says glumly.

“So here’s the thing.” Ashton looks away nervously, and Luke is worried that something is terribly wrong. He just has no idea what it could possibly be, seeing as he’s only known Ashton for half an hour, and all they’ve done is have a friendly chat and drink hot chocolate.

“I got a ticket to My Chemical Romance.”

Oh. That’s not a big deal really. But also… ”How?” Luke asks, rubbing his hands together to try to maintain the warmth from his mug.

“My friend Calum still has power. Had him get me a ticket.” Ashton’s talking fast, and fidgeting. He’s buzzing like he had a dozen cups of espresso this morning, which, maybe he did. Luke doesn’t know his life.

“Oh, cool.” Luke tries to disguise his disappointment, because he is happy for Ashton getting a ticket. He’s just also extremely jealous.

There’s a pause, and then Ashton looks at him, pursing his lips apprehensively. “I got you a ticket.”

“You…what?” Luke can’t react yet; he must be misunderstanding. There’s no way in hell he heard right that Hot Neighbor got him a ticket to My Chemical Romance. That’s just not the sort of thing that happens to Luke.

“I got you a ticket,” Ashton repeats, bolder this time. “I was hoping maybe you’d let me take you.” He smiles, tilting his head to the side. “As a date.”

“Hot Neighbor wants to take me to My Chemical Romance?” Luke says, too thrilled to be subtle. “Of-fucking-course I’ll go with you!”

“Hot Neighbor?” Ashton smirks, leaning in closer to Luke.

“I know it’s not very creative, but it gets the point across.” Luke pulls the blankets over his shoulders tightly across his chest and closes the gap between he and Ashton, letting their sides meld together. There are still half a dozen blankets between their bodies, but Luke swears he can feel Ashton’s warmth through them.

“I must not be very creative, because I’ve been calling you Hot Neighbor too,” Ashton says.

“Seriously?”

Wonders never cease. Luke’s going to fucking My Chemical Romance with Hot Neighbor, who thinks he’s a hot neighbor. Monday’s not looking so bad after all.

[faeofheart]

@1396​ said:  Shipping meme : 2, 5, 8, 12 and 16! <3

SHIPPING MEME. ( hopefully this was the right one rip )

what sort of things does your muse look for in a partner?

it's funny, this one is kind of hard to answer because i don't actually have that many ships with jamie, and it also depends on the context. is this a serious relationship, with real feelings involved? or is this a relationship where jamie knows that feelings aren't really an option and will always ( most likely ) be one sided?

and for the most part, they aren't really... i mean, i could plot something out with somebody, we could develop something really cool and lovely and it seems like everything is working... but jamie just doesn't vibe, when it comes down to the roleplay of it. see, the most important thing to jamie with regards to relationships is trust. and yeah, that seems incredibly obvious, but trust is what marks the key difference between a casual relationship that won't go anywhere and true devotion. jamie has to trust you with all of themelf, and that's actually really, really rare. the raging wildfires and intense burn of summer, the overwhelming desire to rend and tear of the wolf, the longing to... sometimes just make someone decay and suffer, just for a comment, but more than that, the aching loss of their mother and the bitterness and resentment they feel towards their childhood. the good, the bad, the ugly, the seelie, the unseelie, the human, all of it. if jamie can't trust himself to be vulnerable with their partner, if they're constantly on such high alert that all you ever see is what they present, lest you take advantage, that's not a relationship to last.

aside from that, in terms of what draws jamie to a person, it can honestly be variable? because jamie is a being of change and choices, so their preference is never really... one thing ( aside from, yknow, men and masculine-identifying people. ) GENERALLY, though, they tend to be drawn to people who don't mind a little mischief and fun. in more supernaturally inclined people, they're drawn to those that make him feel safe, but also, those that take him seriously. if you're always looking down on them and acting like they're a puppy that doesn't know what they're talking about, you're just gonna piss him off. for humans, sometimes they just like... the normalness of it all. getting to feel like a human. they enjoy a stable presence, someone who can talk to them, reassure him, because jamie often gets caught up in his own head and blows things way out of proportion ( and holds everyone to a double standard. what he might forgive another for, as part of their nature, they have a little bit of a harder time forgiving himself for. )

oh and physically? while jamie doesn't discriminate, they do get a little bit hot and bothered by larger, stronger men or those who are confident and can be rather dominating.

PUTTING REST UNDER CUT BC THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG ONE APPARENTLY

 how easily does your muse fall in love?

"fall in love" or get crushes and attraction? because those aren't necessarily one in the same. jamie is someone who develops crushes easily. their childhood was... well, he didn't really get to talk to a lot of people growing up. they were homeschooled until they were fifteen, the only kind faces being their unwell mother and his sister, and the faces of the doctors and specialists he would be in to see regularly. jamie started attending public high school when he was 16, which would be the 11th grade (or maybe 10th? jamie is a late september baby, so their birthday is really early in the year ) if i remember right, and they were rather... well, high school can be rough.

so as a result, jamie tends to "fall in love" with... pretty much anyone who's kind to them for a relatively short period of time, who lets them feel comfortable and like they can be (kind of) themself. who doesn't mind when he's awkward ( which is always ) and rambly ( which is always ) and takes him seriously. though, jamie does at least have some restraint, they're not going to get crushes ( usually ) on someone in their fourties (visually. a supernatural creature that’s 1000 years old but looks 25 is fair game). thirties, however, isn't exactly off limits. and even then... that’s not exactly a rule. jamie could develop feelings for someone like that, it just feels weird since that’s like... twice his age. that said, these aren't... there's a reason jamie's usually so inexperienced in most verses: they like to flirt with those he's comfortable with, but jamie is at his heart a shy person. it's always a matter of " i flirt because nothing will actually come from this " and then when it DOES happen, he... doesn't know where to go from there.

actual, bonafide, "real" love though? that's not as common. jamie is quick to fall but slow to trust, so desperate to make people like him he doesn't want anyone to know the true jamie, lest they leave him like everyone else does. so jamie can't really fall in love without that security of knowing the person they're with knows jamie, in his entirety, and likes him anyway. and it can get rather complicated if the person they're with says the words first, because jamie's first instinct is to say them back so that there's no conflict, but he physically can't lie, so a workaround has to be found where he can say it without literally saying it.

"just trust people" i hear you saying, but he can't. to trust someone when you're a fae is a fools errand and a death wish wrapped up in a bow.

does your muse usually take the lead in relationships?

yes... and no. but mostly no. like i said, jamie is someone who likes to flirt when they're comfortable. and for the most part, there is intent there. an example of that is when jamie flirts with brock ( @fuckingvictus​ ), jamie likes to flirt and be all " why aren't we having sex " and shit like that. hell, on occasion, jamie might actually take initiative and go for the first kiss. but that's the exception not the rule. jamie lives in the world of " if i never risk it, i won't be rejected " and fails to recognise that this also means " if i never risk it, nothing will ever come of it. "

save this shy child.

what is your muse’s love language?

oh jeez this is a good one. i've never really thought about it in depth, actually. i think.... touch is a big one for jamie, both giving and receiving. they're a very physically affectionate person, and if they like you in any real way, you can expect him to lounge against you. it's very common for jamie to announce their presence by just... draping himself over your back ( but, if he knows you're liable to startle and experience panic or anxiety with this kind of thing, they'll probably tap your shoulder or make some noise while approaching first before lounging. ) in that same realm, quality time is pretty important to him, especially if you're one of the more.... shorter-lived variety, because they fear that one day... they just won't have that time. for receiving... i'd say probably touch, and maybe words of admiration? jamie rambles a lot when it comes to... well, anything, but they're always a bit too shy to express completely how they feel about someone. and if you ever wanna see them blush, all you gotta do is compliment him.

does your muse believe in soulmates?

no. at least, not unless there are very specific circumstance, like in the case of ely ( @spllcat​ ) where it's not so much "soulmates" and more " i am a familiar and in this life of mine i am bound to you " and it's like... it's not for a lack of romanticism. jamie is a romantic at heart, but it becomes a bit complicated when like... so a faerie like jamie can live an exceedingly long time. whether they can die of old age at all, jamie isn't really... sure? regardless, let's say hypothetically jamie will live for 1000 years. so this means, for 1000 years either:

jamie's soulmate is a human, born about 200 years after jamie. they live for a hundred years, and then die of old age. jamie now has 700 years left to live after the death of their soulmate.

jamie has no idea when their soulmate is born or dies, because they never once meet

jamie's soulmate dies in childhood

jamie's soulmate, of any race, is born when jamie is 900 years old. jamie has only 100 year with this person. he lived 90% of his life without this person.

it just doesn't seem realistic to him, even if they are a romantic. how can there only be one person for you? what if you're aromantic? what if you never meet? what if they die young? what if you actually can't stand them? they'll read fanfiction and watch anime and fantasize about the idea of soulmates, but they would never want them to be a thing in real life.

[sailorportia]

Shades of Pink

Fandom: Little Witch Academia

Pairing: Diana Cavendish x Akko Kagari

Femslash February 2019 [Index post] Day Two: Pink

approx. 900 words, rated T

also available on Ao3

In which Akko teases Diana for her habit of blushing easily.

"Isn't she just the cutest?" Akko asked, her voice thickened with lovey-dovey, dreamy thoughts.

Neither Hannah nor Barbara had any doubts about whom she was referring to. "I don't think 'cute' is the right word for Diana," Hannah mused. "Beautiful? Gorgeous, maybe?"

"She definitely looks sexy in some outfits we've seen," Barbara said. Hannah nodded in agreement, and they both snickered when Akko shot them a jealous glare. Akko knew better than to ask about those "sexy" outfits; Hannah and Barbara didn't need any more ammo to tease her with.

"No, Diana's definitely cute," Akko insisted. "Just watch."

Diana, who had been busy doing a favour for Professor Finnelan, joined Akko and her team mates at their table in the cafeteria. Hannah and Barbara nibbled at their lunches as they waited for Akko to prove her point. Akko had set her lunch aside and did nothing but stare lovingly at her girlfriend.

"Akko, would it be too much for me to ask you not to stare at me like that?" Diana asked.

"Like what?" Akko batted her eyelashes. At least, she tried to. It was harder than it looked in the movies.

"Like... that..." Diana looked away, but not before Akko saw hints of pink rising in her cheeks.

Akko giggled. "What did I tell you? Diana's cute."

"Akko!" Diana would've reprimanded her girlfriend further, but she swallowed her words after the round of giggles that followed her outburst. Ever since the two of them started dating, Akko had become even more affectionate (which Diana hadn't thought was possible) and just a little bit cheeky. Apparently Akko found it amusing that even Diana Cavendish was susceptible to the human physiological response of blushing.

I most certainly am not cute, Diana thought as she stabbed at her lunch with her fork and knife. I am a refined lady. I am elegant and dignified. I am not "cute." What's so cute about blushing anyway. As if blushing would be enough to make me cute...

"Wow, she's getting even pinker," Hannah said.

"She must be having quite the train of thought," Barbara said.

I wonder if it's too late for me to ask for different roommates, Diana thought.

Lunch ended and Diana was eager to return to class and escape the teasing of her friends. Her girlfriend, however, had other ideas. Akko clung to Diana's arm in a most undignified way, sending a fresh wave of heat across her face.

Akko giggled. "You're looking a little pink, Diana. Are you sure you're okay? Maybe I should take you to the nurse's office for a little quiet time?" She winked suggestively.

"Akko! That's terribly inappropriate!" Diana's blush intensified.

"C'mon, Diana! There's nothing wrong with skipping class every once in a while to hang out."

"Oh," Diana said quietly. "That's what you meant..." Diana quickened her pace in a vain attempt to escape to the classroom before Akko figured her out.

"What did you think I—" Akko grinned devilishly. "Ohohoho! Diana! You've been reading too many spicy yuri manga!"

The pinkness in Diana's face spread to her ears and her neck, and probably the rest of her body. Words failed her, so she broke off from Akko and fled to an unused classroom. Naturally, Akko followed her and sat down next to her at the back of the room.

"I'm sorry for getting you all flustered," Akko said.

"I-I-I'm not flustered," Diana objected.

"Is that your natural shade of pink, then?" Akko teased. She touched Diana's flushed skin. "I mean, you are usually this hot..."

Diana pushed Akko's hand away. "And here I thought I was supposed to be 'cute,'" Diana said, pouting.

"You are cute," Akko insisted. "Just look at you, getting shy because your girlfriend is showing you some love."

"No, Akko," Diana said. "You're the one who is cute. I am simply... difficult. I find it overwhelming that a girl as wonderful and as captivating as yourself is taken with me, and my reactions to your affection must be troublesome to deal with."

Akko wiggled happily at her girlfriend's compliments. "Gosh, you're going to make me blush too."

Then she turned serious. "Do you not like it when I do that kind of thing? When I get close to you, or when I call you cute?"

"I don't dislike it, per se..." Diana felt a fresh burst of heat surge through her body. She cursed her biology and continued. "Though... I would appreciate if you wouldn't tease me so."

"So... you don't want me to gush about how cute you are when you blush?"

Diana sniffed. "Yes. That."

Akko laughed. "Okay, okay. I'll cut it out." She huddled closer to her girlfriend. "Diana, can I hold your hand?"

Diana imagined her face must've been pinker than ever. "Yes, you may."

Their hands intertwined and Diana felt oddly calm, reassured. Akko gave her a hand a gentle squeeze.

"Diana... can I kiss you?"

"I... I s-suppose so..."

Akko leaned in and pecked Diana on the lips. It was over before she knew what happened. If she had been overwhelmed by Akko's displays of affection before, the sensation of Akko's soft, pink lips pressed against hers just about sent her over the edge. Diana tried to capture Akko's lips in another kiss, to prolong the feeling, but Akko had drawn back too early and too quickly.

Diana's attempt was not lost on Akko.

"Hungry for more, huh?" She grinned. "Maybe I should take you up on that offer of a naughty encounter in the nurse's office after all."

Diana's colour went from a flustered pink to an indignant red. "AKKO!"

[connywrites]

of flesh and blood 26

start - part [25]

-

The giftwrapped box was fairly sizable, which was what both piqued Gavin’s curiosity and intimidated him at the same time – and when he and Tina both discovered what was inside, he’d darted to the bathroom to vomit, the first time in his life he’d experienced such a stress response. Feeling overwhelmed and full of regret, Tina took a few steps back, feeling personally appalled even though the entire ordeal was still Gavin’s to deal with— nothing prepared either of them for the RK900’s idea of a ‘gift.’

The old chassis, disassembled in pieces so it could be neatly stacked to fit in the box, the eyeless face still warped from the damage he’d done from the night of the Vicodin nestled on top for him to set sight on first thing. Flashbacks raced through his mind ever since as the night he previously had trouble remembering suddenly became so vivid it would likely never leave him again.

The fact 900 suggested he invite more people meant it intended to stage him to open the present with as many coworkers watching as potentially possible. Which would raise questions that he’d have to answer and try to explain; Tina being there was more than enough on its own, and he was grateful he’d gone through with his plans of self-isolation otherwise. The ‘present’ had given him a bad feeling from the start, but nothing could have prepared him for what he received.

Ultimately unsure of what to do with it, he stored it away in the garage, fearful of throwing it out in case anyone happened across it. The panic continued as he felt as though RK900’s presence was still there, as if haunting the remnants of the android’s expired shell, now registered in his mind as a dismembered body. Gavin reminisced how much Nines constantly insisted he be regarded to as human, and while he thought nothing of it before, he had to wonder if that was an intentional part of the programming or not. Androids wanting to be people apparently wasn’t so complicated as everyone thought if Cyberlife managed to solve the big mystery, but it did nothing for the constant cases of violence from their general population.

Gavin wound up appreciating the week off as there was no way for him to work in such a condition, but the lack of anything to focus on was maddening. He wanted to throw the chassis into a big, smoldering fire piece by piece, but the smell of burning plastic would be terrible and if there was any remaining liquid thirium, burning it would likely toxify the air. Plus, it wouldn’t do any favors for his mental wellness; he’d regretted throwing away the medication, eventually wondering if going back to the psychiatrist would be a good idea, but they always wanted to talk, and he couldn’t exactly explain the situation for what it was.

He hadn’t gone three days without sleep since before the android regulated his schedule, a thought that drifted through his mind absently as thinking clearly became difficult. Laying on the couch with the TV on became his favorite place to be, even if he didn’t pay attention to what was on the screen; it helped to have voices in the background as the silence was maddening. The house was too large and empty, so once he’d found himself in a place he could concentrate, he wanted to make a few orders for furniture, staring long and hard at the debit card in his possession with his name embossed on the front in glinting silver letters. By now, he wasn’t entirely sure what the actual balance was, deciding to check before he made any purchases.

He was greeted with yet another automated voice informing him of his balance, and it took him a moment to register the words as the specific amount; $900,900.00. Once he got through the math and understood the actual total of money in his possession, he dropped the phone in a moment of surprise, hands starting to shake all over again while he looked around, searching for the android. It had to be there, he had to be waiting nearby, expecting him to do something wrong, or waiting to correct his speech, his posture, anything—but the house was dark and quiet as always. Gritting his teeth, Gavin sat up, pulling himself from the couch and turning off the tv, clicking the stereo on instead and walking to the kitchen, feeling a bit more energized from the rock playing in the background. Rummaging the nicely organized cupboards, he pulled out cookware to put pasta on for dinner, finding fresh meat in the fridge and opening the package to put it on a pan. Remembering to set the heat to medium, he left it to simmer, pulling open a kitchen drawer to pull out a pack of cigarettes, lighting one up and leaning back against the counter. Taking in a long, deep drag, he tried to collect his nerves and focus on what he wanted for the house, instead.

Fetching his tablet, he glanced through catalogs, his tight-budgeting nature reminding him to stay in an affordable range, before realizing he didn’t know what that was as he’d never bought furniture before. Deciding a $500 coffee table was too much, he frowned, swiping the tablet locked and setting it on the counter before snubbing his cigarette out in one of the gold-rimmed ashtrays that matched the marble on the counters, an intentional accent he’d coyly added once the android was gone – yet he still hid away his cigarettes, as if waiting on the scolding for smoking in the first place.

-

‘So...the box,’ Tina finally brought up to him after two weeks of avoiding contact; within reason, he'd imagine, surprised when he even saw her name light up on the phone screen.

‘Is it just the parts? Or is the 900 in there, too?’ Gavin was struck silent as he considered the question.

"That chassis doesn't work anymore. Having any memory in it would be useless."

‘Then why give it to you?’ Her voice was hesitant; she knew she was stepping into business that really wasn't hers, with a situation that could potentially end dangerously for her as well, but whatever Gavin's story was, it was sure better than her beat cop dayjob.

"It's a scare tactic. That's what that thing fed off of, like it was it's life force or something," he muttered.

"Just, forget about the fuckin' android, alright? I'm trying hard enough to get it out'f my head, and having its dead body around isn't doin’ any favors." There was a moment of silence as she recognized the slur in his voice, sighing.

‘You should get some rest. For real. Alcohol and caffeine isn’t a healthy combination.’

“The worst thing for my health was that son of a bitch excuse for an android. Alcohol’s a walk in the park compared to getting branded with a knife.” He didn’t have to see her to imagine the way she winced.

‘Goodnight, Gavin.’

-

There was blue blood dripping from the ceiling, down the walls, and the thirium pump he’d shot straight through split apart across his visage, bright blue and spilling the strange chemical liquid anywhere within reach. The strange flickering of the color always unnerved him, and there was no escape from his own subconscious twisting the visage of the android into something worse than the bloody, mangled corpse it already was.

RK900’s eyes stared at him, but they were hollow from the blade he’d ran straight through them the night of the ‘attack’. The sound of mechanical parts shifting and the obnoxious clicking from mismatched pieces grinding together agitated his ears repeatedly in a way that echoed, a way he couldn’t escape. In the scenario of his own mind, there was nothing but him and RK900, just as it often had been in real life; but the entity seemed to surround him, shroud him in the sinking sensation of fear, the overwhelming terror that made him want to run away so many times when he couldn’t escape, even when he’d scrambled across the state only for the android to track him down and fetch him anyway. Memories of the scarring reversed in the mirror, the deep, bloody lashes across his back, of the way it spoke to him day in and out, the sting marks in his side from the taser – everything from the two months plus, an amount of time that didn’t seem substantial on its own but seemed so many eons long in his head.

It was as though it had never left, the way its presence ricocheted in his mind, how he saw it in the corner of his eyes and heard it calling for his name, or snapping and pointing, or treading nigh on silently through the house to ensure everything was precisely as it wanted. At this rate, he couldn’t tell if giving it more humanity than it was worth was more or less embarrassing on his behalf; either way, the evidence was in his garage and he had no idea what was going on at the DPD right now, let alone what anyone thought of him or how much they knew of the situation. Reputation never mattered much to Gavin as long as he could get his job finished, but now everything seemed to revolve around the relationship between himself and the android. No one in the precinct was shy to gossip during a lull in work hours, and it was evidently substantial enough to make more of an impact than he ever meant for it to. With his multiple attempts to get rid of the android, it managed to find out and discipline him in a manner that was somehow harsher than the last. Now that it was finally gone, after all his efforts to rid of the thing to no avail yet taken away because Cyberlife said so, the surreality of the situation continued to resonate within his head.

Shooting practice waited until the wounds in his back had healed and he could properly aim without shaking. Sometimes the liquor helped, sometimes it made everything worse. By the time he was back to work, the comfort of habit and repetition took place in lieu of being ordered around. The unfamiliarity of going home and not seeing it waiting there, expectant, demanding, and seeing the new house and often getting lost trying to wander through his own home took a few weeks to nullify. For a while, he wondered how an android was able to work through all the paperwork, but was only assured of exactly how powerful Cyberlife really was. For the most part, no one batted an eye otherwise.

-

“You’re pourin’ an eye-opener at work? Even I ain’t done that in years.” Hank’s voice held humor, masking the actual concern.

“I get the work done, right? Pretty sure that’s something you said once,” Gavin retorted without missing a beat. Hank stared at him with eyes that made him uncomfortable, folding his arms and looking away.

“How much are you drinkin’ a night?”

“Ah, so now the alcoholic’s gonna lecture me on my drinking habit?” Hank rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, I’ve done it long enough, I know. But this is new for you.”

“I dunno, a pint? Two if I can’t sleep,” he groused, unsure of why he was speaking up in the first place. Still, Hank took the confession for what it was worth, and how much this entire ordeal must have impacted his coworker. Hank had seen Gavin on the team for a handful of his years on the force, and he’d been in and out of his own nastiness, but he’d never seen him quite like this. That was a heavy tolerance in a short amount of time, was his initial thought, but saying out loud would do nothing but underline how grave the situation was. Knowing he wasn’t in the position to help Gavin, Hank decided it was time to let go of the association, hoping Gavin could do the same in favor of the android.

“Connor’s drilled the effects of ethanol alcohol on the liver enough times I could recite it to ya in my sleep, but I won’t. Catch me at Jimmy’s bar after ten.” He wanted to say no androids allowed as a matter of comfort, but Connor had rather easily broken that rule the night they met. Wondering if Connor would show up nonetheless, Gavin thought over the day he’d apologized to him; another demand by the 900, and the same went for anyone else he’d supposedly ‘wronged’. The discipline from the android was evident in the way Gavin kept his posture straight and vocabulary precise with a voice that was loud and clear, aspects striking enough they remained difficult for his peers to dismiss.

-

There was no way the machine could be awake, but ever since Tina mentioned the possibility, he couldn’t get the idea out of his psyche and he could have sworn he heard gears turning in his garage, again and again as each night went by. The same mechanized voice speaking warnings he’d heard over and over – whether it was because 900 had said them many times before or he’d merely replayed them so many times in his head was often left to debate when it was late and dark, caffeine and liquor scribbling his vision.

He could hear the hours ticking by in his head even though he’d trashed all the clocks weeks ago. Its demanding voice and vicious, hungry glare never left his mind’s eye. Every command, retort, insult, statement, suggestion, theory, summary, calculation, analysis—any and all verbal remarks from the android that he’d wanted to ignore were now impossible to bury, scrambling through his psyche like TV static, hissing and scratching at every train of thought that otherwise filled his head. The echoing voice that was lower and more monotone than Connor’s echoed with warped pitches and distant enunciations on consonants, as it always spoke pointedly around its own speech in such a way that intentionally wriggled its way into his memory so that he’d never forget.

[craby-bouquet]

Trying something new

Xu Minghao x Reader

Fluff

900 words

You tightened the shoelaces on your skates pulling the strings on every cross, finishing with a bow. You took a deep breath and looked up. Minghao had already finished putting on his ice skates and was looking at the ice rink that people were excitedly skating on. Couples holding hands, stealing a kiss here and there. Kids holding on to their parents, almost falling multiple times.

Minghao wasn't smiling, but you knew he was enjoying the sight. For some reason, even though this was just your third date, you felt like in some perspectives you already knew Minghao inside and out. But in other things you couldn't read him at all, you had no idea what he was thinking.

“Are you ready?” He didn't look around, eyes fixed on the rink.

You stood up, stretching out your arms to keep your balance. If you already had trouble doing that off the ice, imagine what you would be like on the ice.

It hadn't been your idea to go ice skating. Minghao had texted you this morning asking if you would want to come. You honestly hadn't expected him to want another date, that was one of the things you couldn't read about him. You didn't think he liked you enough for yet another date, you were already surprised he had wanted a second. He hadn't seemed to enjoy himself at all that time. He had smiled, sure, but when he dropped you off he had seemed so cold. Hadn't even kissed you…

So the text you had gotten this morning had been a pleasant surprise.

“Yes,” You replied, hoping you sounded certain of yourself “let's go.”

He turned around, smiled gently, and took your hand to guide you to the ice. You heart beat like crazy because of his warm touch.

He didn't let go, not even when he walked onto the ice. He looked at you when he noticed you hesitating. Ice skating wasn't at all one of your specialities. You had barely ever done it, but whenever you did you always miraculously ended up falling within the first couple of seconds of even only standing on the ice.

He saw your hesitation and smiled a charming smile, he even let out a chuckle that made your heart skip a beat.

“Come on, I won't let you fall.” he sounded patient, as if he could, and would, literally hold onto you for hours on until you learned how to properly skate. The look in his eyes made you feel determined, encouraged you to step on the ice. The only reason you didn’t fall was because Minghao had been holding onto you tightly and miraculously managed to keep his balance. It did manage to make him chuckle, which didn’t help matters and only made you more nervous.

“You’re doing great!” he encouraged you while laughing as you lost your balance again and he had to keep you from falling.

You managed to hold balance by holding both his shoulders “I don’t believe you.” standing the way you were standing now, you two stood very close together. And to make it even worse, he held on to your waist.

He chuckled again, this was the most you had heard him laugh in all the dates you had gone on so far and you were loving it.

“Now we’ll just slowly..” he looked at his feet as he started skating backwards, slowly, so you could slowly skate forwards. Why was this guy good at everything he did? Who on earth could skate backwards?

“That’s good right?”

You smiled kind of awkwardly, taking one of your hands off his shoulder to put a stray hair behind your ear.

Slowly but certainly you managed to go from holding his shoulders to merely his hand as you skated around. Talking and laughing. He felt way more sincere this time as the two other times you had met up before. He clearly enjoyed this, seemed more open than before and was even cracking jokes every now and then.

After skating hand in hand for way longer than was necessary, you just really loved holding his hand, he told you to try skating without holding on to him this time. So you awkwardly let go. Everything seemed to go well… but then you fell.

The two of you laughed, just as some people around you, and decided to call it a day. So you took off your skates, he bought you two a hot chocolate and brought you home after that.

He stopped his car in front of your house and walked you to your door. There you awkwardly thanked him for the nice night you had had before turning around to open your door.

But he stopped you by taking your arm.

He was looking at the ground “Could I… May I… Will you let me try something?”

You had not seen him this shy before, his cheeks had turned slightly pink and, though his eyes were partly covered by his hair, you saw he wasn't sure where to look exactly.

“What do you mean?” You asked confused. What was it he wanted to try?

Suddenly he looked up, lips slightly parted, eyes slightly closed, looking at your lips “Could I kiss you?”

(So apparently posts with links don't show in the tags? That would explain why my last two posts didn't get notes. So I'm gonna try posting this without the usual masterlist link but you can find that in my bio. Let's hope Tumblr fixes that soon.)

[batik96]

Writing ...

I wrote a few words to end 2017. I wrote a few words to start 2018. I found that, if I were to write 43 words each day in 2018, that would be 15,695 words written by year’s end. That would please me.

Much of February was a wash, writing-wise. Now I’m trying to salvage March.

When last we left off, I had written 3,116 words in 2018, for a then-89-word daily average. Even now, if my calculator is to be believed, I have a 44.5-word daily average, which still surpasses my goal of 43 words a day. (Not sure how I managed that, but I won’t complain.) Going forward ...

March 11, 2018: Today, I have written 140 words, for a total of 3,256 words for the year -- and a 46.5-word daily average.

March 24, 2018: I wrote 1,055 words today. That makes 4,311 words for the year -- and a 51.9-word daily average. (It did nothing to help my nearly 2-year-old WIP, but I have written something postable -- soon, I promise -- for the first time in months. It feels good.

April 8, 2018: I wrote yesterday. It’s hard to quantify, because I really was rewriting a small section for which I found a better (I think) take. If I check just that section, I wrote 253 words. But it replaces a section of 247 words and is largely similar, except with a few key word changes. So the 6-word increase could well be accurate. So, I guess that puts me up to 4,317 words for the year. Or a 44.5-word daily average. Which is still above my 43-word goal, so I guess I’m managing. Though I really hope to get some other projects out of the way soon so I can focus more easily on the words.

May 6, 2018: I wrote 444 words today. I’m not sure any of it is any good. Or if it’s all really boring. (It seems pretty mundane.) But I wrote. (Which is a good thing, since I’m signed up for an exchange. Yikes!) So that’s 4,761 words for the year, or 37.785 words a day. I’ve officially fallen below my daily goal. Time remains my biggest constraint. (I feel as if I’m lacking ideas, but I also feel I’d have more ideas if I had more time.) But I expect the exchange-fic deadline to help resolve that, since it pretty well guarantees I have to write at least 600 more words -- and soon. (Plus, that’s 444 words of “they haven’t even met yet”. I still need words for “they met and it was amazing”.) Onward!

May 7, 2018: I added another 276 words today. For a year-to-date total of 5,037 and a daily average of 39.66. Still not back to my 43-word-a-day goal, but I’m seeing progress, so that’s something.

May 10, 2018: Another 174 words added. For a year-to-date total of 5,211 words and a daily average of 39.778. It’s a very minor increase from my previous daily average, and it’s not 43 words. But it’s not nothing. (I think this confirmed for me, though, that I write better when no one is around. Or, at least, when my husband isn’t around. He doesn’t really like it when my attention is elsewhere, especially if he doesn’t know where. That makes it really hard for me to relax enough to write. I apparently can write more in 10 minutes with him out of the house than I can in an hour when he’s around.)

May 12: I have written 647 words today. (In addition to tweaking some of the words I’d already written.) Still a long way to go, but ... progress. That makes 5,858 words for the year and a daily average of 44.37 words -- officially back above my 43-words-a-day goal.

May 19: Over the past few days, I’ve written 1,643 words, for a year-to-date total of 7,501 words. That’s a 53.96-word daily average. And I believe it’s actually something completed. Not the now 2-year-old WIP, or the thing I was writing on May 12 (which has stalled), but still a viable, whole thing that I hope to post soon. (When I started this on Jan. 1, I noted that 43 words a day would give me 15,695 words by year’s end. I’m almost to my halfway-point goal of 7,847.5 words with 42 days before the halfway point in the year. Considering how little writing I managed in 2017 and much of 2016, I’m pretty happy with that. I hope I can keep it up!)

May 25: I decided to rewrite a chunk of a fic, to see if I end up liking the way it goes any better. (It’s not that I don’t like it, but it was supposed to include smut and now it may not and I’m not sure the initial take was enough to keep it from being mind-numbingly dull without the smut. I’m hoping the rewrite helps with that -- and also maybe inspires me to decide I can manage the smut after all.) Anyway. In the course of the rewrite, I’ve added 571 words this morning. That gives me a year-to-date total of 8,072 words and a daily average of 55.6689 words.

May 26: I’ve written 589 words this morning, part of a 945-word doc that I’m not sure I ever recognized as words written because it is more head canon/fic idea/fic outline than actual fic. But its 900+ words. And it feels good. So I’m going to claim them. Those 945 words bring my yearly total up to 9,017. That’s a daily average of 61.76 words. (If I were to maintain that pace, I could write 22,500+ words this year.) Considering how scarce words have been for me over the past two years, actually having ideas feels great, even if I do still need to work on making the ideas into actual fic. And even if writing actual fic still is like pulling teeth (without proper dental equipment).

June 3: Tracking my words at the moment is complicated. I had 2,100 words written. I added more, deleted some, reworked a bit. So I’m not absolutely certain how many actual new words I’ve written in the past week. But, the doc started at 2,100 counted words and now has 6,158 words, so I know I can claim at least 4,058 words since May 26. That gives me a year-to-date total of 13,075 words -- more than I had in 2016 and 2017 combined -- and a daily average of 84.9 words. 

June 10: I’m losing track of my word count, simply because, well, I’m writing. I’m working on one thing, in particular, and I am kind of in the editing phase, the phase where I change this chunk of words to a different chunk of words. Sometimes it’s a bigger chunk, sometimes smaller. But that 6,100-word doc is now more than 6,800 words, so that’s at least 700 words in the past week. That brings my year-to-date total somewhere around 13,775, for a daily average of 85.5 words. I also posted something (that made it into a previous word count) this past week, which felt really good. 

Aug. 25: It’s been a while, but I wrote 633 words last night. I’ve managed today to add 339 words. I think I’m a bit behind on my 43-words-a-day bid, so I’m just going to go with “972 words in two days is not a bad word count” and leave it at that. 

Aug. 27: I wrote a few more words yesterday -- 49, to be precise. And, thanks to a bit of as-I-was-falling-asleep inspiration/texting-myself-so-I-wouldn’t-forget, I have written 135 words this morning. Neither is much, especially considering the 49 words are the result of a 4-hour time period during which I could have been writing and simply couldn’t find the words. But 184 words is more than I had two days ago, and 1,156 is more than I had four days ago. Baby steps. 

That’s also a year-to-date word total of around 14,931 and a daily average of 62.47 words. Which is stunning. It’s been so long since I wrote that I assumed I was far, far behind on my 43-words-a-day goal. And I’m not -- by a lot. In fact, when I started this at the beginning of the year, I did the math and figured that 43 words a day, by year’s end, would mean I had written 15,695 words. Now? With 126 days left in the year? I only need to write another 764 words to meet my goal for the year. Granted, there’s still time for me to be hit by a total lack of inspiration and miss my goal. but 764 words seems do-able in the next four months, especially since I’ve written more than that in the past four days.

Aug. 29: Another 155 words added. For a year-to-date total of 15,086 or 62.6 words a day. Slowly. (Not surely, just slowly.)

Aug. 30: I’ve written 267 words, and it’s not yet 8 a.m. That makes 15,353 for the year, or 63.44 words a day during 242 days. That leaves 121 days in the year to reach my 15,695 goal. That’s 342 words I need to reach my goal. Still not going to call it a done deal. But I’m thrilled that it seems attainable. That’s less than 3 words a day needed between now and year’s end.

Sept. 3: I’ve managed 236 words written this morning, in not that much time. So I’ll take it. That’s 15,589 words for the year, or 106 words shy of my goal for the year. That’s a 63.39-word average over 246 days. I now have 119 days in which to write 106 words. If I don’t meet my goal, I’m going to be bummed!

Oct. 9: It’s been a while. And I may have managed a word or two -- a literal word or two, not an actual few paragraphs being passed off as “a word or two” -- since last I updated this post. But they truly were to few to even bother attempting to count. Today? I have written 468 words. During the past week or so, in single sentences or -- sometimes -- phrases, I have written more. Combine today’s count with that and I’m up to 744 words in the past couple of weeks. Which brings my word count for the year to 16,333 words in 282 -- a 57.9-word daily average. I’ve now broken my writing goal for the year with more than two months to go. I’m very happy with that! Now the goal is to finish my current endeavor. (I’m not going to say “finish the WIP,” because there’s no way the one I consider my WIP is going to be done by the end of the year. At least not without me finding someone to subsidize it for the next two months while I take a leave of absence from my job and move to a remote cabin with an excellent internet connection but far away from my family.) (The current “endeavor” is more realistically attainable!)

Oct. 15: Since last I updated, I have written 549 words. I’m not going to vouch for its quality -- I’m so busy trying to take things one step at a time, just get me from Point A to Point B and I’ll worry about Point C later, that I’m not sure if the words are actually decent or just merely functional. But they are words, and I trust my betas to tell me if they suck. Meanwhile, that brings my word count up to 16,882 words in 288 days, for a 58.6-word daily average.

Oct. 20: I added another 103 words today. It’s not much, but it was the 103 words that allowed me to finish that particular scene, so it feels like a lot. And, technically, it’s more than double my 43-words-a-day goal! That brings me up to 16,985 in 293 days, or a 57.9-word daily average.  

Dec. 2: Good grief. I went the entire month of November without writing a word. (Well, I wrote 183 words outlining what I needed to write, but I didn’t actually write those words, so the 183 words don’t count for the purpose of this specific count.) Happily, December is off to a better start. I just added 106 words to my current writing effort. There’s still a long way to go and I’m not sure I’ll manage to finish it by year’s end. But every little bit helps. That brings my year-to-date total up to 17,091 words in 336 days. That’s a 50.866-word daily average.

Dec. 7: Another 130 words. So, 17,221 words in 341 days, for a daily average of 50.5 words. 

Dec. 16: Another 550 words. So, 17,771 words in 350 days, for a daily average of 50.77 words. Still not close to finishing this particular piece, but closer than I was 550 words ago!

Dec. 22: Another 709 words, for a 356-day total of 18,480 and a daily average of 51.9 words. This one is both going exactly as I intended/expected and surprising me at every turn.

[sonderei]

I got bored and answered one of those 100-questions things so if you ever wanted to know a stupid amount of useless information about me read on, otherwise enjoy whatever content is in the next post!

Spotify, SoundCloud, or Pandora? Spotify

is your room messy or clean? my room is a mess, the rest of the apartment is pretty clean

what color are your eyes? brown

do you like your name? why? its grown on me. I used to get teased a lot in school “hey Ariel, where’s your best friend Flounder??” but now I work on Disney property and it’s on my name tag so I get to make a lot of kids (and adults) happy

what is your relationship status? been dating a small mess of a person for 4 years, whom I love dearly 

describe your personality in 3 words or less basically a cat

what color hair do you have? brown, or like a really dirty blonde if I spend enough time in the sun

what kind of car do you drive? color? a black 2013 hyundai accent hatchback (named Jazz)

where do you shop? where I shop: target, forever21, H&M, BoxLunch, Garage where I’d LIKE to shop: ModCloth, ASOS

how would you describe your style? I once bought an oversized Polariod windbreaker and I wear it everywhere I can??? I also love passive aggressive crop tops (”no thanks”) I wore it to a mandatory meeting at work at 9am and any time my managers asked me a question I just pointed to my shirt. So idk that should tell you something

favorite social media account I think I enjoy Instagram and Tumblr equally?

what size bed do you have? queen

any siblings? one full brother (5 years younger), one half brother on my dad’s side (13 years younger), and one half sister on my mom’s side (18 years younger). 

if you can live anywhere in the world where would it be? why? idk because I haven’t traveled anywhere I’d actually like to live. I love the idea of living northwest US (Seattle, Portland) or in NZ or like Scotland or somewhere with beautiful scenery but like...never been so can’t say for sure?

favorite snapchat filter? flower crown

favorite makeup brand(s) NYX is pretty much all I use but I also do like bare minimum with my makeup

how many times a week do you shower? typically every other day unless I’m super gross

favorite tv show? too hard. Steven Universe, Game of Thrones, A:TLA, and Adventure Time?

shoe size? 7-8 depending on who makes them

how tall are you? smol. Like 5′3″ or so? 

sandals or sneakers? sneakers, unless going somewhere involving water and/or sand

do you go to the gym? nah. I’m up and down stairs at least 20 times a day, usually while carrying stuff. that’s my exercise.

describe your dream date sitting in front of the Ocean Voyager exhibit at the Georgia Aquarium all day. like literally that’s it. and my date lets me without asking to move on, and ideally enjoys it as much as I do.

how much money do you have in your wallet at the moment? uhhh like $25 because that’s how much you have to have to open a new bank account which I’ve been meaning to do for like two weeks now

what color socks are you wearing? not wearing any, but I was wearing shark socks all day

how many pillows do you sleep with? just one, super soft and squishy

do you have a job? what do you do? I'm a server at a restaurant in Disney Springs at Walt Disney World. Its challenging and often frustrating and stressful but I get to meet some really cool people so it evens out. (Pat Sajak from Wheel of Fortune was in last week, I didn’t ask him if I could buy a vowel because I have some dignity)

how many friends do you have? like true friends, would drop everything for me if I asked them / needed them to? I’d say 3. But my social group is like...maybe 10 people? That I actively try to hang out with semi regularly.

whats the worst thing you have ever done? I honestly don’t even know. I forgot a woman’s ketchup last week at work and apparently I ruined her entire Disney vacation so

whats your favorite candle scent? usually anything with jasmine, so long as it isn’t overpowering

3 favorite boy names Nathaniel, Sebastian, Milo 

3 favorite girl names Riley, Maisie, Phoebe

favorite actor? robert downey jr probs

favorite actress? tessa thompson?

who is your celebrity crush? ugh. tom holland, tessa thompson, rdj? 

favorite movie? Spirited Away or Howl’s Moving Castle

do you read a lot? whats your favorite book? I used to, before I worked at a bookstore. For some reason that killed my love for reading. But favorite books were the Bartimaeus Trilogy and Abarat.

money or brains? brains

do you have a nickname? what is it? Skip (long story short, its a Cabin Pressure reference because I’ve always wanted to be a pilot)

how many times have you been to the hospital? for myself? 5? maybe 6?

top 10 favorite songs in no particular order Evolve by Phoria Put ‘Em Up by Priority Cleopatra by The Lumineers Feel It Still by Portugal. The Man Miracle by CHVRCHES Dissolve by Absofacto Taro by alt-J Lavender by Two Door Cinema Club Dinosaurs by The Maccabees Ambling Alp by Yeasayer

do you take any medications daily? nope

what is your skin type? (oily, dry, etc) ehh a bit on the oily side

what is your biggest fear? losing the ones I love

how many kids do you want? NONE ZERO NADA ZIP ZILCH FUCK NO

whats your go to hair style? pull it back, messy bun if possible

what type of house do you live in? (big, small, etc) a p small apartment (but not tiny, I think it’s like 800-900 sq ft)

who is your role model? Steve Irwin

what was the last compliment you received? a guest at one of my tables told me I looked like one of the recent Bond girls

what was the last text you sent? bailing on a few friends who were going to Blizzard Beach because I was exhausted from having my dad in town for the last two days so I wanted to sleep

how old were you when you found out santa wasn’t real? like 2 or 3. not very old

what is your dream car? realistic? a nice Subaru or Audi. Maybe a Tesla unrealistic? bugatti veyron

opinion on smoking? cigarettes? ew gross not around me also poor life choices weed? don’t care, just not around me please and thanks my other half is allergic

do you go to college? I did, graduated two years ago, still haven’t done anything with my life / degree

what is your dream job? anything working directly with animals, especially marine mammals, big cats, or non-venomous reptiles

would you rather live in rural areas or the suburbs? big city. right in the middle of it.

do you take shampoo and conditioner bottles from hotels? not usually, I have specific stuff I use for my hair that’s a lot nicer than the stuff at hotels

do you have freckles? not like a ton but yeah

do you smile for pictures? if I feel like it? also depends on who’s taking the picture

how many pictures do you have on your phone? I’d say somewhere in the realm of like 650-800?

have you ever peed in the woods? yep, used to go camping a lot as a kid

do you still watch cartoons? hell yeah, I usually prefer them to anything else. Steven Universe, Adventure Time, Voltron, A:TLA, Foster’s Home for Imaginary Friends...that shit is my jam

do you prefer chicken nuggets from Wendy’s or McDonalds? mmmm Wendys but I usually don’t get c nugs from anywhere

Favorite dipping sauce? chick fil a sauce or ranch

what do you wear to bed? just underwear

have you ever won a spelling bee? no but I came close in middle school

what are your hobbies? not many tbh. I have a few reptiles that I take care of. I collect / trade Disney pins. I love swimming but don’t do it all that often. Uhhh...seeing how many times I can ride Kilamonjaro Safari in a row before the cast members begin to judge me?

can you draw? not really, no

do you play an instrument? nope, I can’t even read music and I can barely hum

what was the last concert you saw? uhhhh...I think Death Cab for Cutie and CHVRCHES?

tea or coffee? tea

Starbucks or Dunkin Donuts? Starbucks for drinks, Dunkin for food (donutssssss)

do you want to get married? yeah, eventually. I told the SO that ideally before I’m 30 and that we’re not having a wedding but we’re gonna elope instead because fuck weddings I don’t have the money for that or the patience to plan it

what is your crush’s first and last initial? not really a crush but more of a “current-and-potentially-forever life partner” but DU

are you going to change your last name when you get married? no idea. D wants to change their last name but idk if they’d take mine or they’d just change it to their middle name and then I’d take that? honestly it doesn’t really matter to me each way so long as I don’t get their current last name (because of bad associations)

what color looks best on you? no idea honestly. I prefer dark, muted blues?

do you miss anyone right now? my parents and siblings, and two of my best friends

do you sleep with your door open or closed? open, otherwise the cats would never let us sleep

do you believe in ghosts? nah, not really. I grew up in a town that had a bunch of history and by extension ghost stories, so it was more a part of “tourist culture” than something that seemed legitimate to me

what is your biggest pet peeve? I never know until someone starts doing it around me. but uhhhh I hate loud chewers, people that refuse to even try to see your side of an argument, and when you’re sitting somewhere in public like on a bench or something and there’s plenty of other empty seating options nearby and yet someone comes up and sits RIGHT NEXT TO YOU nope you know what that’s it I fucking hate that and it happens to me all the time at Disney

last person you called` I think my mom?

favorite ice cream flavor? cookies and cream, unless I’m at one of those places where you can basically make your own flavor in which case I will ALWAYS do a rose-infused ice cream with pistachios 

regular oreos or golden oreos? please don’t make me choose

chocolate or rainbow sprinkles? rainbow!

what shirt are you wearing? not wearing one ;)

what is your phone background? just a basic stock photo of some ferns. kinda boring but I like simple backgrounds

are you outgoing or shy? its pretty even but if I had to say one over the other I’m probably slightly more outgoing than I am shy.

do you like it when people play with your hair? only people I know and allow. don’t just come up and start playing with my hair unless you KNOW that I’d be okay with it

do you like your neighbors? haven’t met them! we moved in like a month ago but we still haven’t seen anyone that lives on our floor

do you wash your face? at night? in the morning? if I remember, but honestly I’m really bad about doing it unless I’m in the shower in which case it’s every time I take a shower

have you ever been high? nope

have you ever been drunk? sadly no. I have a ridiculously high natural alcohol tolerance, so I get sick to my stomach before I can even manage tipsy.

last thing you ate? pizzaaaaaaa

favorite lyrics right now idek and that’s a lot of effort so sorry here’s me “free pass” I’m using it on this question next

summer or winter? ugh winter always I can’t stand the heat there’s only so many layers you can take off

day or night? night

dark, milk, or white chocolate? milk or white. milk for straight eating, white for flavoring other things

favorite month? october

what is your zodiac sign leo!

who was the last person you cried in front of? my significant other