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poge-life · 1 day

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heyy!! Love ur writing. Can you do a drew fic where they secretly like each other and during interviews, another cast member is flirting with the reader, and Drew gets jealous. This could be smutty, I guess, but write whatever you're comfortable with.

It was easier said than done. Being in a secret relationship with someone. You and Drew had been dating for over a year but kept it a secret just because you both knew how the media and your fans would tear you both apart. Some days were easier than most; the rumors that started about Drew and Odessa caused a major blow out between you two. You gave him an out, to be with someone he could be with in public but he quickly shut that down.

The group had been swamped with back to back interviews; they were all very entertaining and there was never any dull moment with your friends. You guys were doing an interview for Buzzfeed and you were sat in the front with Austin, Maddy, Cleo and Rudy, with Chase, Madison, JD, and Drew behind you guys.

Drew clenched his jaw as he watched you laugh at whatever Austin had said. He knew he was being ridiculous. That he had nothing to be jealous of but he couldn’t help it. How else was he supposed to interact when he knew everyone was going to try and make it seem like his girlfriend was dating one of his best friends?

“Who have you guys bonded most with this season?” The interviewer asked as you all looked around at each other, “I think we’ve all bonded with each other this season. This season was a lot darker than the rest so we all just kind of talked each other through everything.”

“I think I’ve bonded with Austin more this season,” You answered, looking over at the boy, who agreed, “Definitely. I think Topper and Avery both are slowly starting to realize how deep they’re in with Rafe and Sarah, so we had a lot more scenes together.”

“I think I had more scenes with you than I did with Drew.” You pointed out, looking back at him and boy, did he look pissed. You tilted your head at him, your way of asking if he was okay. Drew just nodded his head once at you before turning to look at the interviewer. You stared at him for a couple more seconds before turning back to face the front.

“Wanna tell me what’s been up your ass this whole time?” You asked as you walked in behind Drew into your shared apartment. He had been quiet the whole car ride home, which wasn’t unusual but he kept his hand on the gear shift. Which was unusual because his hand was always on your leg when he drove.

“I’m fine.” He shrugged, kicking his shoes off before walking into the kitchen. You narrowed your eyes at him before kicking off your shoes and following after him. You leaned against the Island, watching him all but down a can of beer. His jaw was clenched as he glanced over at you before leaning on the opposite counter, “What’s going on with you and Austin?”

You thought you gave yourself whiplash looking over him. That’s what this was about? You and Austin? You let out a dry laugh, shaking your head at him, “Seriously? That’s what this is about?”

“Well, is there?” He asked, walking over to you. He stopped just a few inches away from you, causing you to look up at him. His eyes were dark, pupils were blown, “C’mon, baby. Does he make you feel as good as I do?”

You couldn’t help but clench your legs at his words. Drew knew exactly how to turn you into putty in his hands. You shook your head, going to protest but Drew brought his hand up to your neck, tilting your head up, “I know just how you can make it up to me.”

A/N

Please feel free to let me know if you guys want me to continue this fic!!

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pyrrhiccomedy · 3 days

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I am genuinely so proud of my wife for becoming a crafts person over the last few years.

Like, I was always a crafts person. I was an arts and crafts kid. My parents sent me to classes or summer camps or after-school clubs pretty much continuously from when I was about 5 years old, and over the years I did metalsmithing, stained glass, polymer clay sculpting, loom weaving, oil painting, charcoal drawing, clothes-making & tailoring, carpentry, woodcarving, macrame, miniatures, beading, jewelry-making, basket weaving, leatherworking, paper-making, bookbinding, papier mache, decoupage, sand sculpting, and probably more that I'm forgetting. There was never a day in my life while I was growing up when my entire bedroom floor wasn't taken up by 2-5 different ongoing art projects. As an adult, it's given me the firm confidence that I can walk up to pretty much any crafting skill, and get the hang of it, and enjoy doing it.

My wife never had that. She wrote, but that was really her only artistic outlet. Art & craftsmanship were just not any of her business. She always expressed admiration for my gumption when it came to making things with my hands, usually with a "bigger idiots than me have done it" attitude, but she was certain she'd be bad at it if she tried it, and that she wouldn't have fun. As evidence, she would offer every time in her life when she had attempted to learn a craft, and didn't have fun, and all the Arts And Crafts kids picked it up a lot faster than her.

Which like - yeah! Learning how to do a new craft is a skill all on its own! Fine motor control is a skill developed over time! So is spatial reasoning, and materials intuition! She wasn't just 'trying to learn wreath-making,' or whatever, she was trying to learn how to learn how to make something with her hands AND wreath-making, at the same time, so of course it would take her longer than the kids who already had the first part, and of course it would be more frustrating for her. I knew she wasn't uniquely bad at crafts: she just didn't know how to approach picking them up, because she was never encouraged to learn.

And then the pandemic hit.

And while we were all trapped inside and going insane in new and exciting ways to all of us, she tentatively decided to pick up embroidery. She probably wouldn't stick with it, she explained: she'd probably be bad at it. It probably wouldn't be fun. But she thought embroidery was pretty, and literally what else did she have going on?

And then she did stick with it. For over a year. And she got pretty good at it! She embellished a baseball hat for her sister with cactuses and wildflowers from where they grew up which came out adorable. She made an embroidered portrait of one of our friends' cat that they still have displayed in their entryway. And she discovered - and remarked on it often, with mild surprise - that she was having fun. She'd say a lot of stuff like "this stitch was so frustrating at first, but now that I get it I really like doing it," or "I kept getting this tangled but I've figured it out now. I just needed to relax."

Then she took up pottery. We did that as a couple for about a year, too. Now she's a knitter.

And it's just been so great, to see her eyes light up when she sees a sweater she likes, and hear her say, "I could make that!" She's slowly let go of the perfectionism that I think holds a lot of people back from doing crafts: that dismay when you make a mistake which leads to discarding a whole project, or starting something over. More and more she's taking on the veteran crafter attitude of "oops lol, whatever I'll just keep going." She's picking things up faster. She's taking pleasure in learning incremental steps. She's started to see crafting as something that relaxes and engages her, instead of as something inherently frustrating. I've gotten to watch her learn to find joy in making something with her hands. I always knew she was creative and artistic and capable of learning how to do anything. It's been so much fun to watch her start to take that on as part of how she sees herself.

We have this running joke about how she will prematurely declare herself to be in an era. Like, she'll go swimming twice and announce that she's now in her "swimming era," and then never go swimming again. Or she'll make one smoothie, buy a bunch of fruit, and declare that we are now in a "smoothie era," and then a week later we have to throw out a bunch of fruit that's gone bad.

The other day (while she was knitting, and I was sitting on the couch next to her doing crochet), she went, "I feel like I've gotten - like, I'm a bit crafty these days, I think. Like, I've done a couple of different crafts, and gotten pretty good at them. I think this is now, kind of, you know...something that I can say that I do."

I supplied that I would even go so far as to say that she was in her "crafting era."

Her eyes widened. "It's an era?"

I pointed out that it was something she'd been doing pretty much continuously for the last three and a half years. That feels like the start of an era to me.

"Yes," she decided. "It's an era. This is my crafts era. I'm a crafts person now."

She's planning to make me a sweater with a duck on it for fall.

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fairyucks · 1 day

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i wanted to ask for some advice and tips. i’ve had ana for years, but then it turned into horrible binging, which then turned into bulimia.. im trying to stop eating as much, but im not sure how to go about it. do you have any advice on how to wean into lower calorie intake? i hope this makes sense<3

okok as a high r3stricter heres what i do:

1. i do a dry f4st 8pm-12pm, water & medicines only if necessary.

dry f4sting is beneficial when 16+ hours and its easy since you can do it while u sleep! someone anon asked me to not promote this and i just wanted to say, this is JUST what i do and have been doing for years, if its not something youre comfy with or able to do thats perfectly fine lovies, same woth everything i wrote here, this is just what i do. take care of urself🩷 and help resources are pinned 🩷

if you tend you get cravings at night, this might be hard at first. some things i do to stop cravings:

-think abt how i feel after i overe@t (guilty, embarassed, like a failure, f@t, weak) to remind myself how ill feel the next morning if i e@t rn

-when im having certain cravings i look up a mukbang of it and watch other people e@ting while i chug water until im full from water

-i have insomnia so i have an as needed medication for those nights when i need to sleep but cant, so ill take that and it knocks me out. if you dont have a sleep meds, melatonin supplements may help if ur body lacks the proper amount. (pro tip: take the 10mg & 20mg gummies of melatonin, thats way too much. ur body only needs 0.5mg MAX, which they sell in pill form or u could have ur doctor prescribe for u.)

2. i drink coffee as soon as my dry fast ends (around noon)

**i HATE black coffee but if thats how u roll then slay! but i add brown stevia & a dash of cream or almond milk so its <20 c4ls and its yummy & i need the caffeine to get me through the day.

** this honestly works as a l@xat1ve for me so if ur trying to step away from our girl mia, then maybe this step isnt for you 🩷

3. i save my c4lories for the end of the day, around dinner time!

this way i can have whatever i want and dont feel guilty or like its too much, i have posted some of my omads & u can find more anywhere on here 🩷

i have a list of things i do instead of eating throughout the day if ur worried u won’t be able to save c4ls for the end of the day, if u scroll for a min on my page u should be able to find it 🩷

4. choose filling foods over filler foods

for example, 6 oreos is about the same amount of c4lories as my chocolate chip pancakes r3cipe. cookies arent filling, youll just want more. theyre a filler. whereas 3 pancakes with chocolate chips & betties and syrup, is satisfying & craving.

if you like to get ur c4lories out of snacks thats completely up to you, but for me it leads to overe@ting and then im still hungry.

5. water & vitamins

i take a bunch of vitamins, i start the day with vitamin d, then a womens multi vitamin, then calcium. at the end of the day i take my vitamin c as a treat bc theyre gummies and theyre delicious 🩷 lmao

you can research vitamins and choose other ones to take like iron supplements & omega-3? i think its good for ur brain or heart or something idk, its up to you but without vitamins id feel like sh!t all day without f00d

water is obviously important and i used to overlook it but its literally what gets me through. i aim for 10 cups a day, it gives me the illusion of feeling full &

6. dont beat urself up

everyones b0dy works differently. what works for me may not work for someone else! its all whats best for you. this is just what i do, as someone who grew up barely e@ting & fearing f00d, i don’t struggle with b1nging but if thats something you struggle with, id actually suggest upping your intake. that way you can e@t a couple times throughout the day. i have a doc with all my omads/r3cipes & s@fe f00ds that u can make ur own recipes with, if u dm me and ur 18+, i will send u the link 🩷

hope this is what u were asking for 😭🩷 mwah

if you have any specific questions abt these dont b afraid to leave another ask💕

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ilypaigebuckets · 13 hours

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can u write a paige bueckers x reader where reader is a cheerleader and gets into a fight with another cheerleader and paige goes to separate them and calm reader down also could u give reader a name

yes! this is such a good idea :) i think i’ll be able to write this pretty well bc i do cheer and dance! for the name ill just do mine bc im not creative😛 this came out kinda bad im not really proud of it im so sorry! i hope you like it anyways if not i can always rewrite it!!

Bring it On - Paige Bueckers x Reader

pairing: paige bueckers x reader

plot: kenzie’s a cheerleader at uconn, and also paige’s gf!

“Let’s go, P!” Screamed Mackenzie as her cheered from the sidelines for her superstar girlfriend, Paige Bueckers. The two had been in a committed relationship for another 8 months now and were very much in love. They were public with their relationship, and the media seemed to eat it up. Paige dribbled the ball behind herself and shot the ball from where she was standing.

“And Bueckers shoots a three!” The sports broadcaster narrating the game exclaimed. Kenzie waved her poms high in the air. She loved hyping up the crowd and cheering for all the girls at Uconn, but of course she cheered just a little harder for her superstar girlfriend. The other team’s cheerleaders did not have the same enthusiasm for their team. Of course, there wasn’t much to cheer for; Uconn was beating the opposing team 26-48 and it seemed it would be an easy dub for them.

The girls on the other team seemed to be a little cocky, at least that was what Kenzie picked up from their mannerisms. Anytime someone from Uconn had the ball the girls rolled their eyes. They hadn’t trash talked or said anything bad verbally, though, which Kenzie and the rest of the cheerleaders were grateful for. Finally, it was 4th quarter. Uconn was still very much in the lead and both the other team’s basketball players and cheerleaders had all but given up. Kenzie tightened her bow and waved her poms up high, “Let’s go Uconn!” The other girls joined in and rallied with her, which in turn brought the crowd’s noise level up. Then a girl on the opposite cheer team said rather loudly, “Oh my god. Can she, like, shut up?” Kenzie rolled her eyes and brushed it off. She honestly couldn’t care less about what people had to say. She was a cheerleader, and she was going to cheer. She hadn’t gone D1 in cheerleading just to stand there.

The comment quickly rolled off Kenzie’s back and was forgotten about in a matter of a few minutes. In the last 30 seconds of the game, Kk passed the ball to Paige who shot it into the net. The crowd exploded and everyone cheered. The cheerleaders all rallied and did the chant they did everytime their school won a game. Everything was perfectly fine until Kenzie heard that same scratchy voice from the other side of the court. This time the yelling wasn’t directed at her though.

“Number 5 you suck,” the same girl from early shouted, her poms cupping her mouth in an attempt to make her voice louder. Kenzie was fed up. She threw her poms down and calmly walked to the other side of the gym. The girl who had shouted was staring at her blankly, and she walked right over to her.

The rest of the cheerleaders and even Paige and her team were staring to see what Mackenzie was going to do to this girl. “That girl better watch out,” said Nika. “Kenzie doesn’t play with people trash talking Paige.”

Nika couldn’t be more right, because as soon as Kenzie saw the girl she knew what she was going to do. She stood in front of the girl and slapped her across the face.

“What the fuck? What is wrong with you?!” One of the girl’s teammates asked. Paige quickly ran up to the altercation you’d caused and held you back before you could hit the girl any more.

“Don’t say shit about my girlfriend! You can say anything, whatever you want about me, I don’t care. But she works too hard to have someone talk about her like that!”

Paige held your arms and turned you around to face her. “Thank you baby, but you didn’t have to do that. We still beat their team, so it doesn’t matter.” Kenzie nodded at Paige then smiled, “Yeah, you’re right P. Let me go say sorry to her.” Paige smiled at this, happy she’d talked some sense into you. But her smile quickly faded when you walked back up to the girl and slapped her on the other cheek.

“And that one is for telling me to be quiet. I changed my mind, don’t say shit about me either.”

#paige bueckers #paige bueckers x reader #wlw post #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x oc #paige buckets

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magpie-lu-aside · 3 days

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So. About that shadow crystal and the Master Sword. (All art belongs to @linkeduniverse and JoJo!)

I want to discuss this part because I find Four, Wind, and Legends reactions interesting, specifically because it was those three who had the argument over Twi in the first place. An argument that all three of them seem to not want to bring up again at all.

I've seen some posts saying that Four and Twilight are gonna have a talk about it (and I'm sure they will) but I'm wondering if they're gonna have a talk about the argument again too. (post got long, if you want to read more its under the cut)

(takes place in sunset pt 11)

So here's the thing about The Argument™. Four and Legend are the ones to have an opinion on the crystal itself, with Wind being more concerned about Twilight's status at that moment and wondering if the blood (not the crystal) is what could corrupt him. Wind seems to be almost unconcerned about the crystal which is why I think he was excited about the transformation rather than concerned (Four) and.... Whatever Legend is doing (I'll get back to that).

Legend and Wind also almost immediately put the argument behind them. They ran to find a great fairy fountain....

... And have interacted past this point. And I think that's because overall they agree on this, both of them have trust in the Master Sword to nullify whatever corrupting power the crystal could theoretically have.

But Four and Legend on the other hand? They have not talked to each other one on one since then.

Before this, they teased each other, Four trusted him to work on Wilds sword, and they seemed fine to be in each others space and just talk and conspire a little bit. But now? They barely even speak to each other even within the group. In fact when they do interact in a group both seem... not fully annoyed but not really laughing at each others jokes either.

Also despite the fact Legend was on the team to work on Wild's sword in the beginning, he didn't show up in the towns blacksmith to help either. And while its very easily argued he did that to stay with Twilight, based on this reaction,

He was asked or at least knew they were doing it. He was also fine spoiling the surprise to Wild despite it being mainly Fours gift (and symbol of forgiveness). He refused to join either way, and I think it could both be because he wanted to be by Twilight and also because he just... Didn't really want to interact with Four.

Now to bring it back to Legends reaction to the transformation (told you it'd come back). I don't think Legend particularly likes the crystal (who can blame him really) and I think he's with Four on not really liking the magic, so unlike Wind who's excited to see it hes still a little.. Iffy on the magic itself. And I think that still can cause tension, but that's more of a red herring to the real thing that's causing strife... And that's the Master Sword itself.

Legend and Four didn't argue over the crystal. They argued about the Master Sword. I think the shadow crystal was just the tipping point to get them talking about the Sword and make Four oppose it in some way. Four has always been indifferent to the sword, not really willing to wield it and has been absent from discussing it. But after that? I think with Four and Legend being on opposing sides, along with Time and Sky (whole other discussion I cant delve into cuz good god this post is long enough as is) is leading me into thinking that the next arc is going to delve more into that strife. And its going to be harder to overcome than Twilight being injured.

tl;dr I think Four and Legend still have beef after sunset pt 11 and its going to boil over on them and its their inability to discuss the Master Sword like normal peoples fault.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu legend #lu four #lu wind #lu twilight #linked universe theory #sorry if this doesnt read well. i dont often theory post #but i havent really seen anyone discuss the fall out with four and legend #and i wanted to because it rots my head sometimes

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marnikula · 3 days

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Hey! I was wondering if you would be able to write a post about a Derek x reader where Derek is in the hospital after getting shot and the reader is just so distraught and bursts into his room, but plot twist, no one knows that they are in a relationship except for Garcia, who let the reader know, and they are all so confused.

Also, I imagined it as a female reader, so if you are comfortable, could you do that?

Hey! Sure, I can do that for you😊

Not my best work, sorry about that, but I hope you enjoy none the less

CW: Injury, female reader, mentions of gun shot, hurt / comfort, talks of deatb

✨Enjoy!✨

You have never felt your heart drop so quickly and so violently into your shoes before that moment. "He just went into surgery, I don't know how long it's going to take for him to come out, I called as soon as I could."

Derek was shot. He was in surgery. He was shot. Shot. He could be dying. He could be dead.

Shooting out of your seat you grabbed a bag and flung all of your necessities in it, letting Garcia know you were on the way before hanging up the phone. He was in California, 6 hours away by plane and you hadn't even bought tickets yet, you didn't have anywhere to stay. You knew you were being rash rushing to the other side of the country without a plan, but you didn't care. The love of your life was on an operating table and you weren't there.

Hailing a taxi to the airport you finally took the time to book a flight, thanking whatever higher power there was for the fact that the soonest flight out was in less than an hour and praying that you would be able to make it.

===============================

Rushing into the hospital, your bag still in hand, you ran up to the front desk.

"I'm looking for Derek Morgan's room, he was shot, can you tell me where he is" even to your own ears your voice sounded frantic, like you were hanging on by a thread. And to be honest you were, you just needed to know that Derek was okay. "What is your relation to the patient?" "I'm his girlfriend"

After getting his room number from the nurse you practically flew up the stairs, not having the patience to wait for an elevator. Seeing his room you moved even faster, breaking into a sprint and almost knocking a tall and lanky man over in the process. Shouting your apologies behind you, you were met with a door, slowing down just in time to not run against it.

You were in such a flurry of relief seeing Derek alive and awake that you didn't even register the rest of the people in the room as you rushed in, dropping your bag at the door and enveloping him in a hug. His good arm reached around you and hugged you back as tightly as he could muster, which was still pretty tight considering he had just woke up from anesthesia.

Kissing the top of your head Derek spoke the first word between the two of you: "Hey princess, what are you doing here?" You shoved yourself out of his embrace, still sitting on the bed and letting the agitation you felt show on your features

"What am I doing here?! Seriously? You got shot and went into emergency surgery and you're asking me what am I doing here?!" "Whoah baby, calm down, I'm fine, doctors said I'll make a full recovery, no lasting damage except for some scarring" your reply followed, with a smack against his good shoulder as well "Don't you ever, and I mean *EVER* do that to me again, do you understand?! I was so scared that I would loose you" "Baby, I'm so sorry that I scared you, but I'm fine now, and I promise to try my best not to get shot again. It ain't exactly fun you know. Now do I get a kiss or what?"

A loud clearing of a voice broke the two of you out of your little world. "Are we perhaps interrupting something?"

"Rossi, man, I respect you and all, but please, get your and everyone else's asses out of my room so I can spend some time with my girl"

#dr spencer reid #derek morgan fluff #bau #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan #Morgan #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fluff #Marnikula #Not my best work #But hey #What can you do?#Also why do commas end the hashtag? I want punctuation gosh dang it

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glitterjay · 3 days

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I need popular heeseung and unpopular y/n who has a crush on him but gets rejected when she tries and confesses but later on gets drunk and ends up in his bed

⭒ popular!heeseung, unpopular!reader, rejection, mention of alcohol / getting drunk, they dont fuck!!

⭒ c's note: it would hurt my following lives if heeseung rejected me

⭒ taglist: @hollyoongs @moon7jay @wondipity @fertilizedtoesw @kwiwin @kissestoenha

lee heeseung, the captain of the basketball team and the man who has been your crush for as long as you can remember, was hosting a party this upcoming weekend to celebrate the team making it to nationals.

of course, the whole institute was invited because he's popular like that, and he knew his friends would want to invite others anyway.

your very own friends have been encouraging you for the past year to finally confess your feelings to heeseung. it wasn't that hard to talk to him at all. he wasn't a jerk type of popular.

"you won't know what could happen if you never try. what if he likes you back?" one of your friends said.

"and what if he rejects me?"

"then you'll be able to finally move on!"

you shook your head, still unsure. you always think you're ready to tell him how you feel, but you can't help but think that to him, you're just another girl who finds him attractive.

and you were right. you grew tired of your circle pestering you to go talk to him, saying how you could even have a chance to hook up with heeseung at the party. so you gathered the courage to approach him during your study hall while he was switching classes.

"heeseung, you've got a second?" you called.

he waved his friends off, shooting a kind smile that always melted you on the spot. "for sure! got questions about the party?"

you balanced on your heels, your hands playing with the hem of your shirt as you prepared yourself mentally.

"look, i know this is crazy and sudden," you started. "but i've liked you for quite some time now. i know you don't even know who i am; i'm just a phantom or whatever, but i just wanted you to know."

his smile never left his face, which was actually making you more nervous. he let out a giggle and ruffled your hair. "i appreciate it, really. there's no day where i don't get something like this told to me, so it's not sudden at all. i'm sorry i can't tell you my feelings, but what i can tell you is that i do know who you are. i've seen you a few times hanging out by the bleachers, and you were in my english class last semester! at least you aren't like those girls who are always on top of my ass." he shivered.

the entire world fell on your shoulders. it's true that you were expecting a rejection, but him actually knowing you left a bittersweet taste in your mouth.

"regardless of what just happened, make sure to have fun, mkay? see you at the party?"

"yeah, see you at the party..."

"i dont want to go!"

"but you told heeseung you'd see him there!"

"and!?"

your friend was trying to get you out of bed, desperately throwing things at you—which you were dodging by being under the covers—so you could start getting ready.

"i don't want to humiliate myself like that."

"it'll be more humiliating if you stay here like a loser. c'mon!"

"ugh, fine!"

it took you about an hour to get ready, considering you had been crying since the encounter with the boy.

once ready, you and your friends headed straight to the party's location. to be honest, you did not want to see heeseung at all, but you deserved to have fun after getting rejected.

but it was not your day at all. you saw him, everywhere. every time you wanted a mew drink, on the dance floor, with his friends, he was in every corner you looked at.

this made you get drunk quite fast, drinking bottle after bottle to help you distract yourself from the thoughts flooding your mind.

later through the night, your friends scattered all over the place. you could feel your head spinning, and you wanted to go home.

you got up from where you were sitting, holding on to anything you could as to not fall.

the amount of people was making it even harder to walk, and in the blink of an eye, you bumped into someone. when you looked up, you saw no other than lee heeseung himself holding on to your waist.

you weren't going to lie, he looked hot. maybe it was the alcohol in your system, but you felt like you could kiss him right there.

"are you okay?"

you didnt answer. you kept staring right at his face. his hair slicked back made his face features a lot more noticeable. he should start styling his hair that way more often.

heeseung dragged you with him to his room. it was the safest place he could think of since it was locked and only he had he key.

he sat you down on his bed and gave you a water bottle he had on his nightstand.

the water was able to sober you up a bit, and now you were aware of your surroundings. still, you had the urge to kiss heeseung's gorgeous face, something you would not think of if you were in your right mind.

"hey, heeseung?"

"hmm?"

"can i kiss you?"

"only if you sober up."

#— ✿ c's work!#enhypen #engene #kpop #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen imagine #enha imagine #heeseung #lee heeseung #heeseung x reader #enhypen heeseung

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winwintea · 13 hours

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dreamies as your flight seatmate + ratings

PAIRING ▸ boyfriend!dreamies x reader

TAGS ▸ none, crack, established relationship, haechans is the worst someone drop him out of the plane please

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸inspired by an insta post i saw for 127 and thought the dreamies deserved their own version.

Mark Lee

mark and you have 3 hours on this flight, so get ready for 3 hours of straight yapping from mark lee himself. he’s gonna show you pictures he has saved on his phone and goes into every single detail about the photo. you honestly just want to chill and listen to music, but if it seems like he’s given up, 5 minutes later he’ll bring up another subject. even if you’re gonna try to fall asleep he’ll wake you up, “yo, did you hear what i just said?” and you can’t get mad at him, who wants to see him sad? (4/10 seatmate, sometimes cooks, most of the time idk what he’s talking about)

Huang Renjun

renjun is probably one of those insane people on planes. he can get through the whole flight not talking to a single person, not listening to any music at all, not even looking out the window, just staring straight forward, lost in his own thoughts. if the flight map is available he’ll watch it for fun, otherwise he can pretty much entertain himself for however long the flight is. renjun would even read the safety manual for fun??? however if you needed him for anything, or if you wanted to watch a movie he’d be down you just need to ask, otherwise he’s gonna be in his own zone. (6/10 seatmate since he’s insane, but points only bc he’ll do anything if you ask him too)

Lee Jeno

jeno would be in your personal space, BUT IT’S NOT HIS FAULT DON’T BLAME HIM. he’d take up the armrests too but that’s because his arms are so big… and you wouldn’t want him to be uncomfortable. and lowkey you’re fine with the personal space invasion thing too cause he smells good. (you’re coping) and maybe during the middle of the flight he’ll put the armrest up and hold you in a big hug, just so you can feel more comfortable cause he feels bad for taking up so much room. “i hope this is comfortable enough for you, it’s just a few more hours, you can take a nap on my shoulder or legs if you want” (7/10 seatmate, he feels bad and i would feel guilty if i gave him anything under a 6)

Lee Donghyuck

haechan is an armrest hogger… and he doesn’t even need to. instead of talking to you though, he’ll be on his phone the whole entire trip, watching tiktoks OUT LOUD on his phone. you honestly wanted to watch a movie with him, but you aren't even going to consider it now. and when you catch him peeking over your shoulder trying to watch whatever tv show you’re watching, you give him an annoyed look, and turn the device so you can’t see him. (-127/10 seatmate, just wait until he takes off his shoes cause then you’re both getting kicked off by the stewardess)

Na Jaemin

jaemin is the embodiment of the BEST seatmate ever. he’s always checking in on you, making sure you have ample leg room, let’s you use the armrests even if you don’t want to. he brought a whole bunch of snacks to for you two to share and snack on. downloaded a bunch of movies and tv shows for the ride, but if you don’t want to watch a movie, that’s fine. want to sleep? he brought a neck pillow. want to just talk? he can do that. (10/10 seatmate this is why i have high standards in men)

Zhong Chenle

chenle’s company could either go one or two ways. one, he could spend the whole entire flight watching the basketball game with the third person in your row that somehow was also a golden state warriors fan? to which… fuck him cause how tf did you become a third wheel? or two, he and you spend the whole entire flight just shit talking the other passengers on the plane with each other. chenle and you would probably be whispering to each other and giggling away. (3/10 cause the first outcome is more likely. we know even if there’s no other person to watch it with, as long as there’s a game on he’s watching.)

Park Jisung

jisung… it’s a little too quiet… and a little too tense. the mood is almost way too awkward? “jisung… you can talk to me you know?” you turn towards him, and his cheeks flush with embarrassment. “oh i wasn’t sure if you… wanted to talk or… maybe you were gonna sleep-“ you shush him with your finger, and lay your head upon his shoulder. His whole body begins to relax and he no longer feels cooped up in the seat like he was at first, “Whatever we do, let’s do it together alright?” (8/10 seatmate, very awkward, originally it’s way too close for his comfort but he gets into it and will do anything you want <3)

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celaenaeiln · 1 day

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Hi! Hope you're having a good day.

Also, first time asking someone😅. And also, I love how you explain a lot of Dick Grayson's character!

So, I'm still pretty new to the DC fandom, got into it by watching Teen Titans 2003. And there are a lot of opinions about who Dick's Best Friend is. Sometimes it's Victor Stone, sometimes Rachel Roth, or Roy Harper, or Wally West, Donna Troy, maybe Jason Todd.

So, the question is, who is Dick Grayson's Best Friend?

Hello!!! You too and thank you so much!! ❤️💕💕💕!!

Dick's best friends are Donna Troy and Wally West. I'm gonna put Donna Troy aside for a moment and say it's Wally only because Donna is Dick's sister. Yes, he views her as his bestfriend but she's closer than that. I'll even go as far as to say she's closer to him than he is to the batfamily which - phew. Whatever word you can use to describe that, then that's what they are. So in that sense, she's a whole separate category of her own.

Therefore, Wally West is Dick Grayson's best friend. The nice thing about this is that Dick comes right out and says it which makes my life easier lol

Titans (2008) Issue #23

Nightwing (2016) Issue #90

Dick is Wally's best friend too. They're so close that no matter what their year has been like, no matter what they've gone through, they ALWAYS make room in their busy schedules to go on yearly bro-cations.

Flash Plus

lmao these two 🤣🤣

As Dick mentioned before, Wally brightens Dick's life. Dick is constantly stressed and working and kinda sorta depressed all the time but Wally forcefully drags him out of work just so he can have fun. He convinced Dick to put the Titans together again in Titans (1999) just for the mere fact that he wanted Dick to be happy. He wanted Dick to be with his family since Titans are family.

Titans (1999) Issue #1

"What do you want, a mission statement? Fine. My mission is to keep you from turning into your guardian. Batman may be a loner, but you need a family around you."

"You'd really join another team just so I could have a social life?"

yes, dick, he would.

He and Dick were childhood best friends. They hung over at each other's places for fun aside from being on the og titans team.

So in the end, Wally is 100% Dick's best friend.

#I COULD make a case for Roy but I have a separate post building about their relationship for that bc it's a little more complicated #dick grayson #nightwing #wally west #flash #donna troy #wonder girl #cl anon asks #cl asks #thanks for the ask!

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arotaro · 2 days

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I love voidpunk but I’m also curious about if there are any guidelines or rules, like what things are allowed and what things aren’t? /genq sorry if you’ve answered this before or answered something similar and I missed it I’m not super pro at finding stuff 😭 also double sorry if it’s an offensive question to ask. I’m genuinely not trying to offend you I’m just trying to learn more and since I’m kind of a baby queer I want to make sure the words I use fit me.

You can check the voidpunk tag on my blog, since I have talked about it before, but I'll go over some quick points:

There is no "requirement" for participating in voidpunk. Anyone who tells you "oh, only such-and-such group can be voidpunk" or anything along those lines is lying. HOWEVER:

The "punk" part of voidpunk is not there for no reason. It is tied to the punk subculture and it's best to have a general understanding of this subculture before participating in voidpunk. Also, voidpunk is specifically a reaction to dehumanization, and it's important to understand that certain people experience this more than others. People of color get dehumanized. Disabled people get dehumanized. People with personality disorders get dehumanized. Trans people get dehumanized. Aspecs get dehumanized. etc. etc. We are here to call attention to and take power away from this, not to be niceys about it. I left the voidpunk subreddit and its associated Discord server because it was full of entitled white cunts who acted like they couldn't possibly be racist because they were autistic or some shit and I was being sooooo mean and disruptive for asking them not to be blatantly racist, and I just want to make it clear that if this had been a real life social group and not an online space, I would have knocked their teeth out. Understand? That said, you don't have to be every oppressed minority ever to participate in voidpunk- you just have to be respectful and willing to listen.

One misconception I see very often is that voidpunk is some sort of personal identity along the lines of otherkin, etc. This is not true. Voidpunk is an aesthetic and philosophy, NOT about genuinely believing yourself to be inhuman. There certainly may be people who identify as both voidpunk and otherkin, or what have you, and that's fine! That's cool! I love those people. But they're not synonymous and should not be treated as such. You don't assume I'm really a vampire because I'm goth, right?

Also, the "void" part of voidpunk doesn't really mean anything. Genuinely, it was chosen because it sounds cool. I think another misconception I see sometimes is that voidpunk specifically is about like, literal voids or shadows or black holes or space or something, which is not true. It's kinda whatever. There are as many flavors of voidpunk as there are blue guys in the X-Men.

Have fun!

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foxaftershocks · 3 days

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Hi!! I just wanna say first that I absolutely adore ur writing :) and I've literally never done this before, tbh, so I'm so sry if I've done anything wrong or smth. :)

But I wanted to suggest maybe a reader thats also an engineer and scientist for the Ghostbusters, who Lars always considered less able than him since reader was quite quiet, and would run their expermients in peace, never rly interacting with people. Until one day reader is talking to lucky or phoebe or smth, and goes off on a tangent when talking abt smth they're working on, and it's a very sudden realisation to him that reader is actually rly knowledgeable, that their intelligence is much greater than he anticipated.

Totally fine if u don't wanna write it, remember to take care of urself!! <3

I always take care of myself <3 you did nothing wrong, a totally perfect request. I hope you like it

You were sitting across the room from Lars, absorbed in your work, headphones on as your head nodded in time to the beat of whatever music you were listening to. He hadn’t heard you arrive that morning. Not an unusual situation. He never heard much from you ever.

You seemed to be so unaware of his gaze on you, watching as your hands moved, fingers typing, adjusting your equipment, writing something down in a notebook. That was something he’d noticed. You kept paper notes.

Insane. Absolutely nuts.

Your head tilted up and he realised he’d been caught watching. His nose wrinkled and he looked back to his own work. It wasn’t as if he wasn’t busy. He had enough to get on with.

There was no reason for you to be there. He kept trying to figure out what it was you did, what you contributed to the lab. You kept to yourself and no one else could tell him what it was you did. You preferred to work alone, and while he could empathise with that as someone who didn’t love working in a team, he did enjoy leading a team of researchers. You’d never agreed to joining him.

He had to assume it’s because you knew you weren’t up to the task.

When he next looked up, you were gone. The workstation was empty and there was nothing to indicate where you’d gone. He couldn’t imagine you were rushing off to tell someone of a great discovery.

You’d never had one before now.

It wasn’t that he felt contempt for you. Surely there was a reason you’d been hired. He just thought everyone should be on his level and you just weren’t. The proof was in the output.

Stretching, arms above his head, he figured it was time for another cup of tea, the one he’d made earlier having gotten cold as he lost himself in his work. Taking the mug, he sauntered towards the small kitchen set up in the back corner.

“So if I can just figure out where the spectrometer has gone then I think I’ll be back on track.”

He paused outside the door. That was your voice. At least, he was pretty sure it was. From the few times he’d heard it he thought it probably was.

There was something there in your voice, not something he’d heard from you before. It was close to excitement. Lingering out of sight, he continued to listen. He certainly wasn’t about to offer the information that he had the spectrometer you were looking for. It would be put to better work in his possession.

“You really think you’ll be able to figure it out?” That would be Lucky. He didn’t realise the two of you talked. Lucky was meant to be his intern, not yours. He didn’t know why it rankled him so much.

“Sure. I mean, Nadeem keeps letting me study him to figure out where the source of his magic is so… I can’t see why I wouldn’t,” you said, “oh but you remember when I hooked him up to the EEG machine?”

“Yeah. You got those weird readings, right?” Lucky prompted.

“Right and I spent hours staring at them trying to work it out. And then inspiration struck. So I thought maybe there was some kind of electrical field going on. Which would be crazy because usually we don’t think the two are linked. But fire conducts electricity and so can humans. So what if the magic is connected to ions? Seems simple, right? Only, the electrical charge usually comes from the gas around the flame rather than the flame itself. So does he actually manipulate the gas? Or, is it this pyrotron subatomic particle we haven’t found yet? I mean, in order to prove that one I have to find quarks in isolation and I think that would rock the science community more than proving the science behind pyrokinesis,” you said, almost all in one breath.

It was easily the most he’d ever heard you say before.

“Because in order to prove that I’d need to show that Nadeem is manipulating pyrotrons with psychic powers, probably through the electric signals in his brain, and making them hit isolated quarks, which don’t exist so… I’m back to looking at electricity in flames because clearly it’s to do with the electrical activity in his brain,” you said, with a sigh at the end.

Lars felt his breath catch. There was so much going on in your brain, so many thoughts, so many theories, and you were investigating something he hadn’t even considered looking at. Maybe that’s why you always worked alone. Your projects were on things no one considered researching. You looked at the world differently.

It was… refreshing.

He’d thought you’d ket silent because you knew you couldn’t keep up with the rest of the scientists. Instead, it looked as if you kept silent because your research was so different from everyone else’s. They were so focused on ghosts. You were trying to understand everything in its entirety.

He felt dumbstruck. Everything he thought he knew was wrong. It wasn’t usual for him and he felt on the backfoot. It was like you’d been lying to him but for that to be true you would have had to have talked to him. This was so much worse. This was him lying to himself.

You were so much smarter than he’d thought and it left him questioning so many things.

Walking through the door, he felt combative, like he wanted to start a fight. Your voice died as he did, eyes widening when you saw him. He offered a tight smile, pouring out the cold tea into the sink. He glanced over his shoulder, finding you turning away.

“I’ll see you later,” you mumbled to Lucky.

You slipped out of the room, not even offering him another look. He scrubbed at the mug, not wanting to bother making another cup, taking his frustration out on it.

“Rough day?” Lucky asked, sliding up to him.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he replied.

“No sweat,” she said, “but maybe don’t glare at people when you enter a room. It sure does clear it.”

He didn’t have a response to that, refusing to be shamed by a teenager. He left the mug on the rack to dry and walked out of the room, lips pursed, trying to work out how to feel about everything. He wasn’t used to feeling stupid and yet that’s where he was. He’d judged you because he never heard you talk. Because you kept to yourself. Because you didn’t feel the need to show off like the others around the lab did.

You were sitting in his sight again, the headphones back in place over your ear, pen tapping your notebook in time with your music. You didn’t even look up when he sat down, staring at you. If he allowed himself to admit it, you were lovely to look at. Even trapped in a world of your own, there was something there that he found pleasing. You were soft, like the worries of the world had never curved your shoulders, and your wide eyed gaze left him feeling like there was no pretence. You had never lied. He’d just been a fool.

He stood, hands already grasping the spectrometer he’d stashed in the storage behind his desk. trying to project confidence, he sauntered over with it. Placing it down in front of you, he waited a moment for you to notice. Your gaze dragged up to him and once again he was struck by how lovely your face was. You were slow to tug he headphones off, leaving them hanging around your neck.

“I heard you were looking for this,” he said.

You looked down at the machine in front of you then back up to him. There was a slight curve to your lips, an almost smile marred with a hint of confusion. Your eyelashes fluttered and you tilted your head down, looking back to the spectrometer.

“Thank you,” you said, voice sweet.

It was a sudden thought that he could probably listen to you talk for hours. Not that he’d ever be offered the chance.

“And uh, if you ever need help or want to talk through anything.” His hand came up, rubbing at the back of his neck. He hadn’t felt this awkward since his university days, “I’m just over there. I don’t know if you know. You seem to keep to yourself. So maybe you don’t want the interruption. But yeah, I’m just over there if you need anything.”

Christ, he was rambling. It wasn’t like you were the first pretty girl he’d ever talked to. He didn’t even have a crush on you. What was wrong with him today?

“I’m sure you’re too busy to help me,” you replied, voice quiet and far more put together than him, “you’re always working on something.”

“Oh,” he said, shoulders deflating. You were being polite but of course you didn’t want his help. Especially when you seemed to be a genius in your own right and more than capable of being brilliant without his input.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the offer. But you’re working on important things and I don’t want to bother you with my stuff. You’re probably working on some new weapon that will save someone’s life or something. My stuff is pretty silly in comparison.” Your head was bowed and he wished he could see the expression in your eyes.

“All science is important,” he said.

“No, I know but you know, my stuff isn’t saving the world like yours so, I don’t want to take time away from that,” you said, voice growing quieter the further along you went.

“I’m always happy to help,” he said, hoping it would be enough.

Your eyes darted up to him and he saw panic there. He took a step back, reeling from the look. He knew he wasn’t always the friendliest guy but this was a not the kind of reaction he ever expected from his words, especially when they were meant to be nice. He took another step back.

“Right, well, I’ll stop bothering you,” he said.

Thrusting his hands in his pockets, he wandered back to his own station, shoulders curved forward, trying to figure out what he’d done wrong. Other than ignore you, he couldn’t think of anything you would know about. It’s not as if his thoughts were broadcast over the tannoy system.

Only he hadn’t really been ignoring you, had he? He’d noticed you enough to form an opinion. He watched you. He’d grown used to your habits. He thought about you. Earlier that day he’d been watching you. There was no way he could pretend like you had been a non-entity in his life.

When he looked up at you again, your head dipped down as if you’re been looking at him just a moment ago. He found a flutter in his stomach, like a butterfly taking flight. The thought of you watching him was pleasing. Unless it was because you were wary of him and felt you had to keep an eye on him.

Finally taking the chance, he went to make himself another cup of tea, if only to try and ease you again. Maybe his presence made you uncomfortable. He didn’t like the thought that he made you uncomfortable.

He decided perhaps to keep his distance for a while.

A few days and he stayed away. He didn’t try to engage you in conversation, allowing himself to watch you when he thought you wouldn’t notice. The more attention he paid, the more he realised exactly how wrong he’d been. You kept to yourself, but you were confident in what you were doing. Something had alighted in him, the flame fanned by your confidence. Someone so capable at science was a turn on. He hadn’t expected that. He should have. But he hadn’t.

And he should have expected to hear you in the kitchen again.

“I just find him really intimidating,” you said, just through the doorway.

“Why?” Lucky laughed.

“He’s so smart and I know you’re going to make fun of me for this, but he’s really handsome. I’ve never been good around smart pretty people,” you said.

He lent closer, wanting to hear more. He didn’t know who you were talking about and the thought someone else in the lab was receiving such compliments made him feel disgruntled.

“Just talk to him,” Lucky said, “he’s not that scary.”

“I can’t,” you whined, “I get all tongue tied around him and he offered to help me and I just… I totally put my foot in it.”

Who else had been offering you help? He would hunt them down and make it clear to stay away from you. Or, no, that would just make you more scared of him. He had to gentle dissuade them from helping you.

“Yeah, trust me, he’s done that plenty of times,” Lucky snorted, “seriously, just talk to him again. Two awkward nerds deserve each other.”

You gave a small chuckle and he could imagine the soft smile on you face, small, underfed, and yet still there.

“I didn’t think he even know I existed,” you eventually said.

“Look, Pinfield is awkward and not always nice. But it sounds like at the very least he’s never outright insulted you. That’s more than Dan over in R&D can say,” Lucky said.

Pinfield. He was Pinfield. You were talking about him.

“Yeah, well, you crush on guys who actually give you the time of day. I crush on the silent guy who’s science is brilliant but who couldn’t be bothered with so much as a hello,” you said.

That wasn’t true, was it? He’d offered you help. And then gone back to not talking to you at all. He’d gone about this all wrong.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t take my frustration out on you,” you said.

“No, you should take it out on him.”

This was met with silence before Lucky’s laughter burst out, loud and long and he could inly imagine the look on your face. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy… He was sure it would be… Well, he was very open to it if the chance arose.

He slipped away to mull over what he’d overheard. He intimidated you. Because you had a crush on him. And you thought he didn’t like you in any way, that he didn’t even notice you.

Yeah, he’d fucked that one up. No one but himself to blame.

He paid attention for when you returned to your work station, across the other side of the room, quiet and focused. And beautiful. How hadn’t he thought that before? Or rather, how hadn’t he noticed it?

He was so caught up in his own assumptions about you he hadn’t taken the time to notice. He cursed his past self for being so caught up in his own ego to notice what was sitting right under his nose.

Steeling himself, he rose and made his way over to you. He loitered across the bench from you. You were still listening to music and hadn’t seemed to notice him. Tapping his finger on your notebook, he tried to get your attention. You looked up, startled, eyes widening when you laid eyes on him.

“I was thinking of going out for lunch and was wondering if you wanted to join me,” he said, trying to sound confident but also approachable. He realised he was treating you like an animal prone to startling.

“Oh, uh, I actually brought lunch today,” you said.

“Maybe tomorrow?” he asked, “I’d love to hear more about your work.”

“Why?” You sounded so bewildered it was almost offensive.

“I don’t know much about what you’ve been working on. Is it so odd I might want to know about it?” he asked.

“You’ve never asked before. Have I done something wrong? Because if I have I’m really sorry and I’ll stop doing whatever it is,” tumbled from your lips and he was reminded that you found him intimidating, “I really am sorry. If you just let me know what it is I can stop doing it.”

“You haven’t done anything wrong,” he was quick to say before you could continue rambling an apology for something that hadn’t happened, “I’m just interested in what you’re working on.”

“Why?” You sounded defensive now.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. He was trying. He was really trying. And you just weren’t getting it. You were making it so difficult.

When he opened his eyes you were frozen, as if waiting to be told off. Taking a deep breath in, he offered you a smile, his best attempt as he tried to when he felt such roiling emotions.

“You’re an asset to our team and you’re working on things I’m not involved in. I’m curious. That’s all,” he said, desperate to put you at ease.

“Oh.” You voice was so quiet.

“If you don’t want my company I understand. I thought it would be nice to get to know one another a bit better. Whatever. I see I was wrong.”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away from you. He must have misheard. Clearly you and Lucky hadn’t been talking about him.

“Wait,” you said. He paused, looking back at you over his shoulder, “lunch would be nice.”

His shoulders relaxed and he let the corner of his lips curl up in a small smile. Your answering one stole his breath.

“Come on then,” he said.

You hopped off your stool and he realised you didn’t even come up to his shoulder. He could wrap you up in his arms and you would be completely engulfed in him. He found that thought tempting.

Walking beside him as you left the lab, you weren’t looking at him, gaze turned towards your feet. His hand closed around your arm, steering you in the right direction. You looked up at him, eyelashes fluttering. His head dipped towards you, not able to stop himself. There was something about you.

He spent the entire lunch watching you, basking in your presence. You were slow to open up, answering his questions about your work softly. But once he got you going, your eyes sparked and the words tumbled from your lips faster than he could have thought possible. Your passion was clear and it only drew him in further.

“I dunno. Maybe’s its stupid,” you said, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“I don’t think it sounds stupid at all,” he said and noticed the way that seemed to turn you bashful. Your chin dipped and you couldn’t look at him. He lent forward again, over the table, trying to catch your eye, “you sound like you know what you’re talking about.”

It was a quick flash of a smile, that same piece of hair falling forward again. You reached up to tuck it back again but his fingers were already there, doing it for you. You looked up, mouth falling open but you didn’t seem to be drawing back from him. His fingertips brushed over your jaw before he retracted his hand, pulling it back to his side of the table.

“Oh,” you said, almost a whisper, practically nothing but the movement of lips without sound.

“I’d like to do this again,” he said, assuming honesty was better than beating around the bush.

The look of surprise that passed over your face wasn’t what he’d been hoping for. But then you softened, that small smile reappearing.

“Really?” you asked.

“Sure. I find myself fascinated by you,” he said.

“Like I’m one of your experiments?”

He hadn’t expected that.

“No. Christ no,” he said, perhaps louder than intended, “fascinated like I like you.”

“Oh.”

“Can you say something other than that,” he demanded, then realised that wasn’t a good idea, “please?”

“Okay,” you said, giving him a shallow nod, “we can do this again.”

“We can?” He brightened, “we can.”

“But only because I like you too,” you said, not looking at him again.

So he had heard right. He felt a sense of satisfaction hearing the words from you. He would never admit it, but it wasn’t often someone liked him. Maybe that’s why he’d been doing so badly with you. Or not so badly since you were going to go out with him again.

He led you back to the lab, hand resting on the small of your back, the material of your jumper soft against his skin. You were half a step closer, leaning into his touch more.

It was a good sign.

Thank god he’s listened in to your conversation with Lucky otherwise he never would have been able to find you. And he thought you might be changing his life for the better. Your smile was already capable of brightening his day.

He was excited to see what was to come with you.

#lars pinfield #lars pinfield imagine #lars pinfield x reader #request #anon

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theonceandfuturequeenoftarts · 2 days

Text

Harry doesn’t handle it very well, the first day he and Voldemort spend apart.

When he wakes that morning, Voldemort is up and putting on robes much more elegant than any he’s worn since their capture. He’s going to meet with his Death Eaters – he says as much, but Harry had already guessed. No need to dress up and stand on ceremony with someone who’s seen you piss in a bucket.

Harry follows him silently to the library Floo. Voldemort grabs a handful of powder and looks as though he will leave just like that, but at the last minute he goes still.

Facing away from Harry, voice neutral and even, he says, “I will return.”

Harry nods, then makes some vague sound of assent when he realises Voldemort can’t see him. And then the Dark Lord is gone.

He should do one of the many things he’d thought of doing while they were in that cell. Write to Ron and Hermione or other friends and Order members. Go outside and enjoy the sunshine (well, what sunshine there is on a grey autumn day) and fresh air. Eat and drink whatever and as much as he likes.

He drops into a nearby chair and stares at the empty fireplace, hugging his legs to his chest.

It’s fine, he’s fine, Voldemort’s probably fine.

Probably.

Harry tries to remind himself that he’d known whenever Voldemort was being tortured – he could feel echoes through their connection. He would know if something was wrong. The only things he can feel through the bond are mild irritation (which Harry, having dealt with the Death Eaters before, can fully understand) and satisfaction (Nagini, his mind whispers).

Nothing to worry about there.

Harry starts plucking at the chair’s upholstery.

When Voldemort returns later that afternoon, he nearly trips over Harry as he exits the fireplace.

To save the chair from his anxious destruction, Harry had eventually trekked to the kitchen and baked enough bread to feed an army. Channelling his stress into the dough had helped keep him somewhat calm, but he’s pretty sure he overworked a few loaves. That had occupied a few hours, but he’d been too wound up to eat anything, so he’d returned empty-stomached to the library to wait.

And that’s where Voldemort finds him, seated on the hearth, dusted with flour and soot, halfheartedly pretending to read a book and about ready to storm Malfoy Manor or wherever the Death Eaters gather to make sure the Dark Lord is all right.

Which – Harry squints up at him consideringly – he is.

The look on Voldemort’s face is… actually quite funny, were Harry not as strung out as an addict kept from their substance of choice. He’d be more upset about that if Voldemort didn’t look as though their separation had strained him, too.

“Welcome back,” Harry says as he dusts himself off. Might as well sweep the past few hours of losing his mind under the rug and ignore their many, many issues – they’ll be there whenever he’s forced to confront them.

Voldemort is on board for pretending they’re functioning human beings, thankfully. “I’ve brought Nagini.”

And so he has. The four-metre long snake, wrapped around the older man’s torso, peeks her head up from his shoulder at her name.

Harry only hopes his words come out in Parseltongue. “Hello there.”

She rears back slightly, apparently not expecting him to speak her language. “Hatchling. Master says I’m not to eat you anymore.”

“How kind of him,” he says dryly. She hisses in agreement, not catching the sarcasm.

Voldemort unwinds her and sets her on the floor next to Harry. “I’ll leave you two to become acquainted,” he says as he heads towards the library door. “No biting.”

“You would bite Nagini?” she asks warily, coiling away from him. Dammit, Voldemort.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he attempts to reassure. “Your scales are, uh, much too beautiful for me to want to damage them.”

Appeased, she wriggles proudly. “Aren’t they?”

She shifts closer to him, butting her head into his hand. “You should express more appreciation for Nagini’s beautiful scales.”

He’s not entirely sure, but he thinks the giant murder snake is telling him to pet her. He rubs gently along Nagini’s chin and body, drawing contented noises from her. He murmurs some nonsense about how lovely her colouring is and she somehow manoeuvres the majority of her body into his lap and around him, praising him for his warmth. It’s, unexpectedly, really nice.

“Why,” Voldemort calls from the doorway, sounding just the tiniest bit perplexed. “Are there two dozen loaves of bread?”

Whoops.

(A long, hard road)

#codependent trauma buddies #harry potter #voldemort #harrymort #nagini #fic snippet #ALHR #post-VII

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paradiseprincesss · 17 hours

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hii i absolutely love your double fantasy fic and i was wondering maybe you could make a pt 2 where the reader tries to come up with plans to escape, you can choose the ending!! if its not possible, i understand, thank you!!!

double fantasy (pt ii) - jackson rippner x assassin!reader

hello my love, yes absolutely i can write a part ii for you. i am so so so glad you enjoyed the first part! <3 love you always

please read part 1 first because none of this will make sense if you don't!

summary: after planning your escape from jackson, you put your plan into motion - but just like the first time around, things don't pan out the way you thought they would.

warnings: 18+ minors dni!! murder, death, kissing, fluff, mentions of crime/criminal behavior, mention of drugs, mentions of sex

life with jackson wasn't so bad...

actually, that was a lie. it was dreadful.

for the last three weeks, you were being held hostage in jacksons home with him. sure, it was okay in the sense that he would actually give you some freedom. like for example, he would always go grab your favourite food when you were hungry, or he would buy you pretty clothes - he pretty much bought you everything you asked for, and he would fuck you so good; you couldn't even deny that. all he asked in return was that you occasionally cooked him dinner after work and let him stuff his cock down your throat from time to time.

the downside to all this you ask? well, it was with him. that was the downside - jackson rippner himself. he was so loving towards you that it was almost suffocating, and you knew he was probably doing it because he knew how much you despised it.

the whole stockholm syndrome thing was taking a little longer to kick in than jackson originally anticipated - but just like you, he was willing to play the long game.

and that's what he did with you. you were waiting it out as well; seeing how long it would take him to slip up and give you a chance at escaping, and he was waiting to see how long it would take you to fall head over heels for your captor.

he rolled off of you, immediately coming to hold you in his tight grip after he had just fucked your brains out. okay - fine. the sex was good. actually, no - it was more than just good; it was mind-blowing. you let him hold you (not that you had a choice), and he kissed your forehead gently.

"you'll love it here, honey. i know you'll come around, but i'm okay with waiting. just look at what being patient got me the first time around." he says softly, making you scoff.

"stop lying to yourself." you tell him, and he coos at you. "oh, honey, no need to get so upset. it's okay - you can admit it. i mean, with the way you're always screaming my name when i fuck you-"

"that's enough." you sharply say, and he just laughs softly at you. "okay, okay. whatever you say, sweetheart."

the way he loves on you makes you furious - he acted as if the two of you were really a couple and that had your blood boiling. you were set on finding a way out of here.

as luck would have it, later on in the week, jackson needed to go on another mission of some sort. he mentioned that he was supposed to track down this girl, get on some redeye flight with her, and threaten her and her father or something. to be honest, you weren't really listening - that and you didn't really care.

"are you going to miss me when i'm gone?" he asks sweetly, and you pull yourself away from him. "ew," is all you manage to say, and he scoffs at you. "please, you'll come to love me." he growls at you, making you scrunch your nose to really get the point that you were disgusted across.

so you started planning in your head silently. you knew that he was going to be gone for roughly 72 hours, giving you a small window of time to escape.

he had the doors barracaded with multiple locks, which all required both a code into the keypad and a physical keys to unlock. the windows were also locked shut - but at least he didn't put bars or anything on them. oh right, there was also one more problem.

he had surveillance cameras set up all over the entire home.

so yeah - you had your work cut out for you. this plan had to be executed perfectly, meticulously and flawlessly. even if he was hours away or on a plane, he could easily have one of his men check up on you. better yet; if he found you escaping, he could have one of his men kill you.

but he wouldn't do that...right? because he loved you so?

"goodbye, honey. i'll see you when i get back. and trust me, when i do - you won't be walking straight for the next week after i'm done with you." he coos at you lovingly whilst telling you that he was going to fuck you so ruthlessly when he was back that you'd lose the ability to walk.

charming.

you grimace at him in annoyance, "i hope you die on that mission." you snarl with a sharp tone, and he looks at you with his eyes narrowed for a moment - like he was about to break the loving facade before collecting himself once more.

"don't make me regret keeping you alive, sweetheart."

and with that, he gave you a rough kiss and left for his mission - locking the dozens of the locks on the door behind him.

now that you were alone with your thoughts, you got to brainstorming. over the next few hours, you finalized your plan.

you knew that trying to bust down the locks or windows was pointless - he would see it on the cameras and get someone to stop you, and even if you did manage to get through the dozens of locks he had on the doors, somenone would be there waiting outside to stop you.

so you decided the best way to get those doors to freedom to open wasn't through yourself at all, but through someone else.

they say revenge is sweet - and you were craving it real bad. why not take vengeance on both people who screwed you over instead of just one?

it started with you throwing some dishes on the floor, breaking the porcelain plates with force. then, the glasses and cups, making an absolute mess of the place.

you knew he would notice - it didn't take him long to. within minutes of you breaking every dish in that damned kitchen, the sound of the locks being unlocked from the front door filled your ears.

"throwing tantrums now?" a voice asked, and you recognized it immediately.

no, not jackson's voice - this was the other person you were looking to take revenge on.

roman.

you wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for him; trapped in this sick psychopaths house.

"jackson asked me to check up on you since he said you were making quite the ruckus." he smoothly says, a cocky smirk plastered on his face.

you didn't respond, opting for silence as he stared at you. you wanted to wipe that stupid fucking smirk off his face. "i'm sorry for fucking you over, i really am. but that's life for ya, sweetheart."

at this point, he was standing maybe a foot away from you. his ego was clearly clouding his judgement - since the door behind him was wide open and unlocked - too distracted with taunting you to remember to do the one thing he should've done.

"i'm sorry, too." you say nonchalantly, and he cocks his head to the side. you take this opportunity to lunge at him with precision and speed - going right for the kill.

this egotistical idiot must've forgotten who you were; let's not forget you did work in the same...business as both him and jackson.

you had a shard of sharp glass hidden in your hands - doing it so stealthily that he didn't even see it coming. you watched roman as he collapsed to the floor after you went after his jugular, watching him bleed out.

"i'm sorry for that." you sneer.

quickly, you lean down to check for a pulse - gone.

smirking to yourself, you stand back up and toss the glass shard on the floor that was now starting to pool with blood.

"that's life for ya, sweetheart." you mock him, getting in the last word - as you always did.

now, jackson was watching all of this happen on his phone through the cameras he installed, and the sheer panic that was running through his body almost sent him into hysteria. he was sitting 35,000 feet in the air right now - he couldn't exactly get to you easily.

glancing up at the cameras in the home, you blow him a little kiss and wave.

a few months had gone by since your great escape; you were keeping a low profile now - considering that people were under the impression you were actually dead.

where were you? well, it's simple - you were chilling on a beach, living life in a tropical paradise.

ever since you escaped, you left the state and fled to mexico since you had a friend down there who ran a cartel. turns out being part of a drug cartel paid better than being an assassin ever did.

currently, you were in your favourite bikini, tanning on the beach in your beach chair with your friend beside you in a her beach chair, and a matching bikini.

this time you knew it was safe, this girl had been your ride or die since the two of you were in middle school as kids together. she'd saved your ass plenty of times, and you always returned the favour.

"i've missed you." she laughed as you sipped on your pina-colada, feeling the warm rays of sunshine kiss your skin.

"awe," you say, pouting at her, "i've missed you too."

the two of you talked and giggled about shared memories of your friendship. after a while, you were craving another cocktail. "i'm going to go back inside to make a margarita or something, want anything?" you ask her, and she smiles at you. "girl, obviously. bring me one, too."

nodding, you make your way from the beach to your villa styled mansion, letting the cool air conditioning breeze past you as you walk into the marbled kitchen. as you were grabbing the tequila and lime juice, you heard footsteps behind you.

"how strong do you want your marg?" you call out behind you, but it wasn't your friend who replied.

"you know, i prefer whiskey myself."

whipping your head around, your met with someone other than your best friend.

"jackson," you say calmly, looking at him with a soft smile, "you scared me, jesus."

he laughs softly, coming to wrap his arms around you from behind, placing a soft kiss behind your ear and a few down your neck. "m'sorry, honey. i love this bikini on you, by the way." he murmurs, trailing his hands up to gently squeeze your breasts through the tiny bikini top.

"i'm glad you're home. you know i get antsy when you're gone." you say softly, leaning into his touch.

"oh, trust me i know how you get when i'm gone. can't forget what happened last time i left you alone for more than three days." he teases.

turns out when you "waved" to him on camera after killing one of his associates, it wasn't a wave goodbye - no, in fact, it was just your way of saying "hi, come home please. i miss you."

turns out your stockhold syndrome was kicking into full gear as you plotted your escape - so in a sense, yeah, jackson was right. you did come around to loving him, i guess.

but after that, he knew keeping you captive was not the smartest choice - he didn't want to turn into roman 2.0 and end up dead on his kitchen floor. the two of you talked when he got back from his mission - which he coincidentally failed at, and you were still waiting at home for him, like he'd hoped.

you were screwed because everyone thought you were dead - and now, he was also screwed, because everyone wanted him dead. the two of you had a long conversation about it, and figured since you technically spent the last year and a half being a "couple," you might as well just give into it, right? why not.

so, that's when you had reached out to your longtime friend who was involved in the drug cartel business, since both you and jackson couldn't exactly go back to your old "jobs."

thankfully, your best friend was more than happy to have you join her and her cartel, along with jackson who went back to his roots - assassinating people; but now he was doing it for the cartel.

the two of you fled to mexico, and got yourselves a quiet, but huge, villa styled mansion on the coast of mexico so that you could both enjoy the quaint oceanic paradise and tropical weather.

and that's how life was now for the both of you - still living a life of crime, but this time around you got your happy ending. it was cute; jackson would bring you flowers every day, and true to his word, he always bought you whatever you wanted.

maybe life wasn't so bad with him - certainly not this one, anyways.

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #cillian x reader #cillian murphy fanfic #cillian fic #cillian murphy imagine #cillian x fem!reader #jackson rippner x female reader #jackson rippner x reader #jackson rippner x you #jackson rippner x y/n #jackson rippner x f!reader #jackson rippner #jackson rippner x fem!reader

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thelunarsystemwrites · 1 day

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Why I recommend age regression as a way to cope.

If you're stressed the F out, feel like you missed out or lost your childhood, or have terrible coping mechanisms? Then this is the post for you. (Maybe.)

Also before we jump in—Just wanna say that I'm not a psychologist, I'm just sharing tips and advice from my own positive and negative experiences. And that age regression may not work for you after you've tried it, but I say give it a shot! Especially if your current ways of dealing with life aren't.... great.

With all that our of the way—Post beneath cut!

So here's some resources for a TLDR version! But I'll be explaining age-regression, it's benefits to me, and why I encourage others to try!

Remember it is ALWAYS sfw! (Which means agere isn't a kink, never has been and never will be!)

So age-regression, or it's shortened name Agere (Takes Age, and the Re from Regression and combines them!) Is a form of dissociation in which someone mentally reverts back to a younger age! This can be anywhere from a few years younger, such as a 17 year old regressing to a 15 year old. Or it can be many years younger—Example being a 17 year old regressing to a 4 year old!

During this state: they are mentally younger, either fully or partially depending on the person. And do think like said age. And often their behaviors correspond with their regressed age, assuming they aren't masking it!

Sometimes you are aware you're regressed, and other times you're not—Both are completely fine!

It's a wonderful way to relive your childhood in a safe environment, feel young and cared for again like a child, or express your inner child!

Okay, but why would I use that to cope?

Don't worry, I hear your questions!

The reason it's a good coping mechanism, for me atleast, is regressing allows you to process your emotions at your own pace. Though they might still be overwhelming, I find it much easier to let my big emotions calm down when I feel small, because it's like they slowly burn off rather than going boom!

If you're stressed a lot, it's a good way to temporarily remove yourself from your burdens! Like you don't have any worries other than 'should I use the pink or blue crayon?' Vibes! Pressure slowly bleeding off rather than having an outburst.

And, for fun! It can be fun to connect with your inner child, do the things you liked as a kid and reunited with that mindset! You don't need to have missed out on your childhood to regress, it can be completely for fun!

Now now, age regression isn't always all fun and games. Because you do think like whatever age you've regressed to, you might have temper tantrums or get cranky or confused if something triggers it.

That's okay.

Yeah, it can feel icky—But me personally, i much prefer these occasionally than letting my emotions boil over and having a breakdown when I'm not regressed!

I've lost and wasted a lot of my childhood. This is my way of healing and re-experiencing childhood joy. Please, don't ever forget that type of wonder, it's so magical and so nice and cozy.

It's a way to cope because it can be an outlet, a comfort, a way to regulate emotions, a way to escape, a way to just relax. And, while not everyone turns out liking it, that's okay! But it works for me, and so so many others. I've had atleast 6 or so friends start regressing and they're still doing it to this day!

And the best part is it's temporary, so if there's more mature things you enjoy? You don't have to give those up, okay? You can find time to regress and relax, and come back to your normal routine later!

It's benefits can be:

Destressing.

Processing lots of emotions at once.

Enjoyment.

Getting to do things you were denied as a child.

Able to let out emotions via tantrums or fits in a much less destructive headspace.

Reliving a simpler mindset.

Helping with sleeping. (I find it much easier to nap/go to bed if I'm regressed!)

Getting a fresh feeling after you're done regressing.

Stimulating if understimulated.

Can help if you're also overstimulated.

Healing inner child.

Coping with trauma/stress in a healthy way.

Help with doing chores. (It's way easier to make chores fun if you're regressed in my experience, but some hate doing chores while regressed and that's cool too!)

And it can be different for each person!

It is absolutely okay to have a different experience, struggle regressing at first or even always, or not do it often!

I recommend if you want to start regressing—Find something that makes your inner child happy, indulge in the best things you liked or would've liked as the age you wanna regress to, find ways to incorporate your current interests into it!

Also things that you like, or positive things can help too!

It's honestly my best coping mechanism, it isn't 'weird' or 'wrong' especially if it helps you. And I can guarantee it's far better than plenty of unhealthy coping mechanisms!

Sooo... yeah! If you want, I recommend looking more into it! There's a whole community for you here on Tumblr, and other sites!

And this post mainly only covers the positives, but it's what I wanted to focus on!

Byee!! (Pssstt BTW agere doesn't have to be all pastels and cute and stuff!! Do what makes you happy! Use whatever colours and vibes you want!)

#sfw agere #agere community #sfw regression #safe agere #age regressor #agere #sfw #sfw interaction only #sfw littlespace #sfw only #age regression #education #long post #rambeling #rambles #ramblings #not a professional #Just a perspective!#^^

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hannahssimblr · 3 days

Text

“Smile! No- okay, a real smile if you can. Would you show us some teeth? Ah! That’s a snarl… why don’t you think of something that makes you happy, or just say cheese. Okay? ‘Cheese’? Jude. C’mon.”

I smile for one second just as the camera bulb flashes, blinding me temporarily, and let it fall right off my face. “That okay?”

The photographer checks the screen and tuts, “Well, it’ll do. Onto the next, please!” I slide off the stool and let the next person in line take it as Sam from the yearbook committee beckons me over to him.

“Jude, I’m just looking at your form here. For the yearbook? It looks like you must have forgotten to fill some of it out.”

I peer at it.

“No, that was on purpose.”

“Right, well your section of the book is going to be fairly empty if we submit it like this, and most of the stuff that you’ve written is pretty much unusable.”

“Which parts?”

“So here, under ‘best memories’ you have, ahem, ‘smashing Fitzy’s nose at that match that time.’”

“Yeah. You notice it’s still fucked up a bit even after the surgery?”

“You actually can’t say that. The principal wants me to cut it out because it’s inappropriate, so you’ll have to think of something else.”

“Another good memory?”

“Yeah, just one.”

“You’ll have to let me stew on that.”

“Right. And here, for ‘where will you be in ten years?’ you’ve said ‘possibly dead.’” He’s got a troubled look in his eyes, “Kind of morbid, isn’t it?”

I shrug, “Well it is possible, isn’t it?”

“Well I suppose, but, like, most people have said something like ‘running my own bakery!’ or ‘married with kids!’”

I scoff, “Alright well I won’t be married.”

“Have you not got a pretty solid thing going with Michelle Tengu?”

A bit presumptuous. I repeat myself, “I won’t be married.”

Sam scratches the back of his head and lets out this world weary sigh. Whatever about me, but in ten years Sam will probably be doing exactly as he’s doing now, stuck behind some desk, sighing over forms, checking his watch slyly and yearning for lunchtime so that he can finally lay into the limp salad with vinaigrette dressing on the side that he’s stashed in the office fridge, a label on the Tupperware lid lest anyone be tempted.

“Okay well the rest of it, the ‘favourite subject’ section is empty, so is ‘words of advice’, ‘nickname’, and your quote.”

“I don’t have anything to say.”

“So you’re going to leave those sections blank?”

“Is that… okay with you?”

“Is it okay with you? You’ll have this yearbook forever, you know, and what if when you’re older you want to look back at it and remember what you were like in sixth year and you’re disappointed in yourself that you never made an effort to fill out the form?”

“Okay, and what if I’m dead by then?”

Sam sighs again and stuffs the form back into the pile on the desk, “Fine, Be like that. I don’t care.”

“Well to be honest, it feels like you do.”

“No, you can do what you want.”

“Well… good.”

“Good!”

I shrug and slope towards the gymnasium doors where Alison is standing, smirking.

“Were you just getting told off by Sam?”

“Yeah he’s on a yearbook committee power trip, he’s mad because I don’t want to fill in the form.”

“Well wait until the debs committee come after you.”

We push through to the hallway and make our way towards our lockers, “The debs committee? What do they want from me?”

“Money for tickets, apparently. It's been due for weeks.”

“Well I don’t want tickets, so they can piss off.”

“You’re not going?”

“No, obviously not.” I pull a frown to match hers, “why would I be going to the debs?”

“Because it’s the debs.”

“Good reason.”

“Like I just assumed, what with you having a girlfriend now, surely you’d like to go and get dressed up and do the whole thing. It’s, like, tradition.”

“I’m surprised you’re so into the idea. I didn’t think you’d be the kind of person who’d be up for it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well it’s cringey, isn’t it? Getting dressed up in a little suit and standing around on someone’s front lawn drinking from champagne flutes that only get dragged out for special occasions. The whole tradition is stupid, with that flower thing you put on the girl's wrist and all,” I shudder with embarrassment, “Wouldn’t you just feel like you’re play-acting as a sophisticated adult to some extent?”

She smirks, “You don’t think I’m sophisticated?”

“I don't know.”

“And you don’t think I’d like to have a cute little corsage on my wrist?”

“Would you?”

“No, I think they’re weird, but I’d still like an excuse to wear a dress and do my hair up. We’ll get a free shot of sambuca too.”

“Well, mine is yours.”

As Alison unlocks her locker I fling mine open to dump my books in. I haven’t had a lock in years. What would anyone want to steal from me anyway? All I have is textbooks with the covers ripped off and notebooks with their whole lower third damaged and bleeding ink from the time a water bottle opened inside my school bag.

“Is Michelle against the whole thing too?”

“I assume so.”

“You assume?”

“Yeah, I can’t see her being jazzed about it. It’s not really her thing.”

“You didn’t ask?”

I move on swiftly, “Who are you going with?”

Alison smiles, “I’m going to two debs, actually. My own, obviously, and the boys school one. I got asked last week.”

“By who?”

“The guy I’m going out with.”

I poke my head around the open door of my locker, “Alison, do you have a boyfriend?”

She wiggles her shoulders with delight, “Yes. At least I think so, we haven’t, like, had the conversation officially but I think it’s safe to say we’re together together now.”

“That’s great! What’s his name?”

“Aaron.”

“Uh huh, and what’s he like? He up to it?”

The bell suddenly sounds for the end of break and we sigh as the hallways fill with frantic footfall, clanging lockers and swooshing doors. Alison slings her school bag over one shoulder. “We can catch up about this later, maybe. Do you want to meet me after school for a walk or something?”

I hesitate, and she starts babbling, “Or, um, wherever, like, I know-”

“Yeah it’s just-”

“If you’re busy-”

“We’re not really supposed to be friends, are we?” I blurt out, and her face looks stricken. Her hand on the strap of her bag clenches, white over the plastic buckle, “Right.”

“It’s just, like, with me having a girlfriend and stuff… She’s not really a fan of me hanging around people that I used to… like-”

“Hm. So I suppose you having less time for me this year wasn’t really by accident, then.”

I don’t know what to say. Someone bumps their bag against my elbow as they push past us and I stagger closer to her while she takes a decisive step back, maintaining our new distance.

“It’s just with Michelle and everything. You know how it is.”

“How insecure is that girl anyway? You and I haven’t done anything in over a year. Since way before you got together.”

“She just doesn’t like the idea.”

“Of me?” She scans my face for some semblance of meaning to all of this, her blue eyes big and wounded. “Okay well, suit yourself then, but this is just...” She can't muster the words for exactly this is, instead she pulls a disgusted face at me that might as well have been a boot to the crotch.

“Come on, Alison, no matter what I do I’m going to end up upsetting someone…”

“No, I get it, it's better it’s me.” She plasters a big smile on her face and whirls around, and I watch her, black patent shoes clacking against the linoleum, hair swishing, arms swinging, and she’s gone.

Beginning // Prev // Next

#lucky boy 2010 #yikes #i couldn't resist making the actual form #and cackling to myself at Jude presenting it to Sam weeks late after fishing it out of the bottom of his bag #anyway probably a good question posed here - is it actually cool if Jude and Alison are friends or not? The jury is out

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