#nevermind already did if I count in tumblr comments

[fandom-necromancer]

A little distraction Part 3

This was prompted by @rufina72 as well as two anons and at least one AO3 user. I have to admit I lost track on AO3 because apparently people really enjoy this story line XD Hope you do to!

Fandom: Detroit become human | Ship: Reed900, Hannor/Hancon Part 1 link not available   [Part2]   [Part4]   [Part5]   [Read complete on AO3]

‘S-s-so Connor is your brooother?’ They were driving through Detroit’s streets covered by snow slush and salt. It would be a pain to get the hardened dirt from the road off his car later, Richard thought as quiet Christmas music accompanied their drive. ‘Yes. Older by roughly five years’, he answered. ‘We’re very close.’ ‘And he w-w-will be the only one there?’ Again, Richard nodded. ‘Yeah, him and his boyfriend. Guess I have to update that to husband soon, they plan to marry as soon as legislation has caught up with recognising androids as persons in every aspect.’ ‘No other f-f-family?’ Richard frowned, face falling instinctively, before he forced himself to cheer up.

‘Nah. Our father died in a car accident. I was three years old; I don’t remember much of him but photos. Connor knew him more and always said he was a nice guy. Our mother was always at work, too absorbed in her studies. It changed a bit when father died, but still she wasn’t home much. Connor basically was the one raising me, and he blames mom for not being there for me.’ ‘And y-y-you?’ ‘Nah’, he laughed. ‘It was normal for me; I didn’t know anything else. But we both agree that me and him, we are family and she doesn’t belong in that definition. And that we’ll do it better should we ever get kids.’ Gavin nodded slowly. ‘How’s he?’ ‘Caring?’, Richard began, having to think of the right words to express what he felt when thinking of his brother. ‘Overly protective. Overly friendly. It can be annoying at times. But he is honest too and understands boundaries. He never said anything when I had my silent phases, just came to my room and did whatever he did close to me keeping me company. He seems to always know what you need right now and I think that’s his most treasurable attribute.’ ‘Hooope he knows that with meee too, not just you. Wh-wh-what I told you, I won’t tell anyooone else.’

Nines risked a look to the side to Gavin, who had ducked his head in between his shoulders and fidgeted with a button on his shirt. ‘Hey.’ He stopped at a red light and was about to touch the android comfortingly, refraining from it last second as he remembered his reaction to that. ‘Hey, if it gets too much at any point, tell me. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable.’ Gavin quickly looked out of the window and nodded, obviously embarrassed.

-

They arrived at a small house draped in tasteful Christmas decoration. Not too much and in exactly the right colours to make it feel cosy, warm and welcoming. Gavin stepped out of the car watching the lights and trying not to think of how he had lifted up the kids so they could help putting them up in their old home. They were fond memories made all the more sour by his loss. He knew his LED was likely red again, alerting the strange human that had picked him up of his  composure slipping, but if Richard noticed, he didn’t say anything, just walking ahead and smiling back at him as an invitation to follow him. Gavin swallowed and hastily walked through the snow to the freed path leading to the door. Nines was already standing there, hand hovering over the doorbell.

‘Richard!’ The door was almost ripped open by someone who looked exactly like the other human, maybe an inch smaller and a lot more expressive. ‘You came!’ ‘I promised, didn’t I?’ Connor hugged the other human and grinned from one ear to the other. ‘Yes of course, but still!’ Only then did he turn to Gavin, who was awkwardly standing half behind Richard and watched them. It was hard to blink away the warning popping up over and over again. Connor moving towards Richard. Threat. Warning. Richard returning his hug, the arm passing through Gavin’s personal space at that. Warning. Threat. Connor turning around. Threat. Run. Gavin didn’t know since when he was stuck in this analysis mode, but he was sick of flinching and glitching at any movement. ‘This must be your plus one?’, he asked Richard with a wink and held out a hand towards Gavin. ‘Hello, I’m Connor.’ Gavin couldn’t suppress taking a step back. ‘I-I-I’m Gaaavin’, he said, cursing his voice box for glitching now out of all times. Connor let his hand fall, but smiled at him, completely ignoring his stutter and hangers. ‘Hello Gavin, nice to meet you! Merry Christmas! Come in, you two! Hank’s getting out the food already!’

They followed Connor in and got rid of their shoes, before entering the living room. Connor instructed them to sit down and hurried into the kitchen to help Hank. When the larger android came to greet them, Gavin dared to relax a bit. He was deviant too, sending a friendly greeting ping to him. He looked gentle, trusting and didn’t have any marks on him. Hank put down plates for Connor and Richard, while Connor came back with two mugs of warmed Thirium for the androids as well as blue tinged cookies. ‘Can you eat?’, Hank asked him then. ‘You are an older model, right?’ Gavin nodded. ‘I am. B-b-but I caaan eat. I g-g-got the upgrade when Kathy- I got the upgrade.’ Hank lifted a brow at the errors and swallowed sentence, but otherwise didn’t mention it. ‘Then I hope they taste, Connor made them. He has no talent.’ ‘Excuse me?’, the human answered, elbowing Hank. Gavin expected damage, but it was a friendly gesture. ‘I can cook great.’ ‘Yeah’, Hank countered. ‘If you count heating up frozen pizza.’ ‘Hey, that’s all I can do, too, so I’ll side with Connor here’, Richard laughed. ‘What’s your verdict, Gavin?’

He looked into the other’s faces, still overwhelmed by it all. Instead of answering, he took one of the cookies and nibbled on the edge. He hadn’t really eaten much since he had gotten the upgrade and his tank didn’t allow for more than one meal anyways. It tasted… sweet. The texture was interestingly grainy and gave in to force easily. Not able to stand being stared at any longer, he just shrugged and said: ‘It tastes good?’ ‘See!’, Connor grinned. ‘Gavin likes it. I can’t be that bad then!’ ‘Or your recipe was good.’ ‘Or he did something wrong and accidentally saved otherwise horrible cookies.’ Connor crossed his arms. ‘Oh, shut up, Nines, try baking something you can’t even try because it’s literal poison for you!’ Richard laughed, and it eased the mood into simpler waters.

They continued talking for a while exchanging about what they had been up to lately. Gavin listened, but was content not to be involved at all, eating the cookies Connor had prepared. He actually liked them a lot and it was quite relaxing to just munch away on them. ‘And? How did you two get to know each other?’ He froze, sharing a look with Richard. ‘Errr…’ ‘Do you know that red light at the corner of that mattress store?’ Connor frowned, then nodded. ‘Yeah, you have to wait ages until you can drive on.’ ‘Somehow timing was perfect, and we saw each other every day when my shift ended.’ He looked over to Gavin and he nodded, thanking him inwardly to not tell them his whole life story. ‘Today I decided to talk to him.’ Connor looked over to Gavin disbelievingly. ‘My brother spoke to you first?’ Gavin huffed. ‘Y-Yes, he did. I-I-I lost my family because of the revolution. Had nowhere to go. He invited me to come with him.’ ‘So you really aren’t more than strangers’, Hank asked. ‘Kind of?’, Gavin shrugged. ‘But Richard seeeems like a nice g-g-guy and I don’t have m-m-much to lose.’ Connor swallowed. ‘I’m sorry to hear that’, he said. ‘You are welcome here any day if you need a place to stay.’ The android ducked his head, blushing. ‘Richard offered that already and I agreed to try it out.’ That shifted their attention towards the man completely.

‘Nines, are you ill? Initiating conversation, bringing someone for dinner and inviting them into your home?’ ‘Fuck off, Connor, seriously. Call it a Christmas miracle.’ Connor shook his head. ‘Would be one hell of one.’ Richard threw him a look and laughed. ‘Connor, just because it’s rare it doesn’t mean it never happens.’ ‘It was awkwaaard as hell too’, Gavin added carefully. ‘Have to admit I thought he was some sort of weirdo first.’ Connor smiled as Nines rested his hand on his arm. ‘Okay, that sounds more like my brother.’

‘Really? A weirdo?’, Richard asked Gavin. ‘I thought aaaaafter our last talk you appreciated h-h-honesty.’ ‘Yeah, okay, but you don’t just tell someone they are a weirdo.’ ‘It’s the truth.’ Richard sighed. ‘I don’t think you are oooone now th-th-th-though’, he added. ‘Thanks, at least there’s that then…’ Richard looked up at Connor. ‘What?’

The other human was grinning at them both and tried to hide it badly. ‘I’m happy, Nines. Really. I’m glad you both are here today. Come on, let’s watch a movie and then presents!’

-

The longer they spent at Connor’s house, the more at ease Gavin felt. No one asked him about his past or why he was malfunctioning all over. It surely was a question that burned in their minds, he could feel it, but they consciously didn’t question him. He was just being accepted as a part of their Christmas celebration as if he hadn’t just been picked up from some scrapyard and put into nice clothing. It felt like he… Like he had been here last year and the year before. Almost like… like he belonged. Like a family. He just had to reach out a hand and take the chance Richard had offered him and all of this would turn from pretend to reality. It was weird thinking about it, especially when every connection to the word family brought up memories of loss and grief about old happiness.

But was it wrong to want this again? To wish for another chance at building new memories? He looked at Richard from the corner of his eyes. The man was completely fixed on the TV in front of them, body relaxed and close to him but far away enough not to impose or cause stress. Gavin swallowed and looked over to Connor and Hank on the other couch under a blanket lying close, Hank holding the human and caressing his hair. He could have this again. This casual comfort, these caring touches, this feeling of safety and belonging. The home he had lost and tried to build for himself in that scrapyard could be his again, if he just allowed to let it happen.

He swallowed and pressed his eyes close to block out the warnings of threat, warning, run, danger. Then he scooted over slowly until he hit Richards warm ribcage. He felt the other shift around his frozen body, then an arm was draped around his shoulders carefully. ‘This too much?’, Nines whispered near inaudibly over the movie running and Gavin shook his head. No, he wanted this, he just had to get over his own barriers. A few minutes later, he tried opening his eyes again and was surprised his systems weren’t bombarding him with errors. Instead, his status box read safe and Richard’s body was marked as friend/ally. Gavin sighed deeply, dropping into the carefree touch completely.

When Richard dared to look down the next time, the android in his arm was smiling just the slightest and his LED was circling somewhere between blue and yellow – the calmest he had seen Gavin so far. By the end of the movie, Gavin wasn’t moving anymore, the LED pulsing slowly. Nines looked over at Hank questioningly and the android nodded. ‘He’s in stasis now.’ ‘Wow’ Richard said with raised brows, looking down on the sleeping android. Connor sat up and threw them their blanket. ‘You can stay the night if you want. Guess I have to call you Tens now’, he joked. Nines huffed and answered deadpan: ‘Do that and I’ll stop talking to you to go back to Nines.’

[>next part]

#detroit become human #dbh #Reed900 #RK900 #Gavin Reed #dbh reverse AU #human RK900 #android Gavin Reed #Hannor #Hancon #Hank Anderson #Connor dbh #RK800 #android Hank Anderson #human Connor #Wow this is the most rewarding story to write so far so many people comment #if it continues like this this will surpass my main projects XD #nevermind already did if I count in tumblr comments #I'm really happy you like this story so much because I certainly love it #I have a soft spot for reverse AUs and even more so for damaged but badass android Gavin

[mistaeq]

Multiple Character Work: an s/o Pulling them into Dancing

TW // none

This was a request by @memory-mortis , I wish I still could answer to it directly but Tumblr is a dick. Enjoy the answer hun, hope you like it! <3

Kujo Jotaro, Higashikata Josuke, Narancia Ghirga, Leone Abbacchio with an s/o who pulls them into dancing, fem!s/o

WORD COUNT: 2.3k

You felt incredibly good. The music was something you had needed for so much time, considering all the bad events that had happened lately. You kinda knew that all the eyes were on you, there was who was smiling, who was following the rythm of the music. And then there was your boyfriend.

May it be because he was tired, may it be because he was too focused on your moves. But he wasn't absolutely dancing. It was funny to finally dance after all that time. But after you had fell in love with him, you felt like dancing with him could have been even better.

If you could only convince him...

KUJO JOTARO

You approached him, with a sly smile on your face. Jotaro willingly ignored you. You were in the middle of the desert and had found a working radio which was playing good music? It all looked too weird, to him. An enemy stand user who was try to make them let their guard down? It was night, and the six of you were getting ready to sleep, after a long day. But the music was inside of you, right now.

You started dancing around, jumping around Joseph and Polnareff, who were laughing, twirling all around Kakyoin while Avdol was clapping his hands. They also looked incredibly pleased, thanks to the music. But Jotaro, your boyfriend, was a mixture between kind and shocked. He was so stressed, poor boy, and you could tell by how he was staring at the radio.

"A... A radio enemy stand which makes people go crazy..." he was mumbling, while you were getting closer to him, wanting to take his hands in yours and pulling you into dancing with you. As soon as you were close enough to be in his range of action, he suddenly summoned Star Platinum, scaring you to death. You fell on the soft desert sand, looking at him in shock.

"J-Jotaro...?" he just stood there, angrily staring at you.

"Y/n. Are you being possessed by this enemy stand?" Star Platinum was just right in front of you, as you shook your head and swallowed. The crusaders were as shocked as you were. Jotaro was too stressed. After all, his mother's life was in danger and all he could think about was defeating Dio. After he understood what was going on, his stand disappeared, and he hid his face under his black hat. "Nevermind. Sorry."

You stood up, getting closer to him again. This time, instead of grabbing his hands, you took off his hat, putting it on your own head. It was too big for you, it fell on your eyes. You smiled to him.

"It's okay, JoJo. You can never know where an enemy might be. You've been careful, and that's always good." you wrapped your arms around his torso. "I just really, really wanna dance with the boy I love." The ordinary Jotaro would have never done it, but this Jotaro, so nervous, maybe needed it.

You took him by the hand, and pulled him away from his thoughts, gently moving his arms on the rythm of the music. His hands moved directly on your waist, and you smiled. This caused a bunch of whispered comments from the others.

"Oh my god."

"Ooh la la."

Jotaro killed Joseph and Jean Pierre with his gaze, but then went back at watching you. He held you closer, and you swore you saw a smile on him.

"Didn't know you were this good at dancing." You commented, caressing his neck.

"This is not... good." Jotaro snorted. "It's just dancing, y/n."

"Mind letting me decide whether this is good or not, Kujo?" at this answer of yours, he answered with a smirk. You broke the perfect dancing pose, to hug him tight and stand on tiptoe, leaving a quick peck on his lips.

"Thank you for dancing with me, JoJo."

"How cute, a kiss~" Joseph teased his grandson.

"Oh, l'amour." Jotaro killed his grandpa and his french friend, afterwards.

HIGASHIKATA JOSUKE

The slight pain of an elbow on his arm and the sound of a raspy voice woke him up from his daydreaming. He'd never tried to go in a dance club. It was quite a mess.

"Oi Josuke." the boy huffed. "Your girlfriend over there is staring at you. She's totally hot, you should go, she looks like she wants to dance, huh Josuke?" you were, in fact, dancing around, kinda staring at him. But he was there with his best friend. You would have annoyed him, maybe?

"Okuyasu, are you hungry?" Josuke asked, staring at you from afar but talking to his bestie.

"Yes, like a lot."

"Fantastic." Josuke smirked. "I am not. How about you go eating something? Mh?" his best friend's eyes widened.

"Oooh... I understand, Josuke." unbelievable. "Have fun Josuke, okay Josuke? Bye J o s u k e e e ...."

As soon as he left, you kinda decided it was your time to shine. And he was slightly smiling, too.

"JoJo!" You approached your boyfriend wiggling your hips around - more or less like the iconic Suzi Q approaching Joseph -, and then rested your hands on his chest, right on the heart shaped unbuttoned part of his uniform. "What are you doing here all alone?"

"Ah..." Josuke tried to play the victim, to make you baby him. "My best friend said he had better things to do and left me alone..."

"Yeah, right..." you teased him and gently kissed him, ignoring the voices of jealous girls behind you who would have wanted to be you. "You don't like it here?"

"I've never been in a dance club... 's pretty chaotic."

"Yes, but the good thing is you can be yourself without getting judged. Just dance, Josuke." you grabbed the hands he was resting on your back, and brought them to your hips.

As soon as you pulled Josuke with you, not in the middle of the crowd - you still wanted your intimacy with him -, but not too far, you felt someone pushing you, making you stumble on Josuke's feet. Luckily, he caught you just in time not to make you fall. You decided not to turn around. You just smiled, pissed off.

"Who pushed me, Josuke?" the boy watched. He saw a girl, he didn't know her, though.

"Someone jealous, I think." he just answered, giggling and holding you tighter while moving with you on the music.

Nobody in the dance club saw it coming, but Josuke knew pretty well what you were doing, seeing your stand pop up behind you and punching that girl. He laughed, and that made you the happiest. "Maybe we should look surprised?" he suggested. You shook your head.

"Nah, nevermind..." your hands moved to his shoulders, and you kissed him again, while you were dancing.

The only ones to dance, to be honest. Everyone was being shocked about the girl who had been punched by your stand - nobody could see it -, and everyone's eyes were on the couple who was ignoring her. You two. Josuke blushed a little, but he had to admit that night with you in the dance club was priceless.

NARANCIA GHIRGA

You were shocked. Bucciarati had asked to put such a cute music at Libeccio's purposely for the gang to relax a bit. Even Abbacchio was quietly humming on the music. But Narancia, a known music lover and great dancer, was just sitting at the table, his fork wandering around his plate, not wanting to eat.

Probably wanting to dance, but holding back. Why was he holding back? Even you, his girlfriend, were dancing, and he was just there, almost sad looking. From afar, you gestured him into joining you, but he just tried to avoid your gaze.

You then got worried and curious about what was he thinking about, and you reached for him.

"Oi... Nara?" you kneeled down, next to his chair, and kissed him on his cheek. "Won't you join us? Won't you join me?" He looked at you. You could tell he wanted to dance, too.

"Y/n... why do you want me to dance with you?" you got a little taken aback by his question. "I'm still trying to figure out why did you choose me over someone like Bruno or Abbacchio..." your expression softened.

"I chose you over them..." you hugged him to make him stand up from the chair. "...because it's you who I like, Narancia. Very easy. And I'd rather dance once with you than a million times with them. Understood?" you kissed his forehead, cheeks and nose. He smiled shyly.

"Are you sure we can dance together, then?" Narancia asked. You noticed how Bucciarati was actually listening to your conversation. He was thinking about how to thank you later for making Narancia happy and confident about himself again.

"It's you the real dance machine, come dance wi-" you saw Aerosmith flying over your head, and as you noticed it, Narancia had already disappeared.

You turned around and saw him dancing like he had wanted to do that for hours, Aerosmith flying all around him happily, hitting the rythm of the music with its user. You immediately joined him, but you were more focused on looking at how happy he was. Narancia was your ray of sunshine, you couldn't hold back from hugging him while he was dancing, so he could lead you and do the same dance steps with you.

As you two danced together, your two stands could be seen having fun together on the rythm. Bucciarati was laughing, Giorno was happily smiling, Fugo and Abbacchio humming the music along with the radio. Mista tried to stand up to join you and Narancia, but Abbacchio grabbed his blue turtleneck, pulling him back on his chair.

You couldn't understand if it was because he didn't want another idiot to dance or if he actually wanted you and Narancia to enjoy your moment together. Trish was sitting on the table, yelling for a good cause.

"Won't we get to see a kiss between you two?"

Narancia had never felt comfortable in kissing on your lips in front of the gang, but he was so excited thanks to the music, that he just got closer to you, pressing his lips on yours. You felt your cheeks go on fire, but you were happy that Narancia was happy, too.

LEONE ABBACCHIO

Narancia and Mista were dancing, their music so loud everyone even outside could hear it, you dancing along with them. Too many times you pretended to stumble on your boyfriend's foot, slouched on the couch, with his eyes closed and his headphones on, just to get his attention. But he just ignored you.

You grew tired of waiting for Abbacchio to care about you stumbling on his foot, and just did what you knew he hated. You didn't actually do nothing weird, just sat next to him, without him noticing. The two boys who were dancing immediately understood what you wanted to do.

"Oh, Mista, try to put your hands around my waist, so we can dance better." Mista and Narancia were quietly giggling.

"Mmmm." was the only sound Abbacchio produced, angrily opening an eye, just to see you were sitting next to him, luckily without Mista's hands around you. You laughed.

"Hi, love."

"Mmm." you got closer and took off his headphones, since you were the only one who could do this without risking an immediate death. He opened both his eyes, and looked at you. Then he managed to put together two words. "What is it, amore?"

You stood up and grabbed his hands, pulling it to make him stand up. He's heavy, and won't stand up.

"Please?" you puppy eyed him, shaking his hands a little. You understood you had to use your trump card. "I would be so happy if you danced with me... Leone." he just couldn't say no, when you called him with his first name.

He huffed, standing up and blushing.

"I'm... fine with it, but... please, change the song... I like something more classical."

"Mh..." you hummed. "We getting romantic?" you just succeeded in making Abbacchio blush even more. You should thank God that you're yourself, or Leone would have scolded you several times for exposing him like this.

"Kinda." he said, as Narancia changed his music to something slower. Abbacchio posed to start dancing, and you looked at him, confused. He smirked. "You want to dance with me and don't know how to dance what I like?" Leone giggled. "This means I'll have to teach you." He put a hand on your waist, and moved a hand of yours on his shoulder.

"Try to stay closer to me... our chests have to be close, our heads don't." he said, as he guided you in your dance steps, under the amused eyes of Narancia and Mista.

"What do you mean our heads don't... what are we, Transformers?" Abbacchio snorted, smirking a little. Okay, that had been so sudden and funny, not even him could hold back a laugh.

He suddenly pulled you up and kissed you, leaving the two boys that were watching you in a complete state of shock. You caressed his cheek, and smiled in his sweet kiss. "I'm not an expert, but I'm pretty sure this wasn't implied in the dance step..." you whispered, smirking.

Abbacchio bit his lower lip, and smirked back. "Are you sure about this? Looks like our dancing was pretty... impressive." he gestured towards Narancia and Mista's shocked faces.

"I wouldn't mind dancing another time, would you, Leone?"

"No, I wouldn't surely mind."

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo x reader #jojo scenarios #jojo part three #jojo part four #jojo part five #stardust crusaders #diamond is unbreakable #vento aureo #golden wind #jotaro kujo #jotaro x reader #josuke higashikata #josuke x reader #narancia ghirga #narancia x reader #leone abbacchio #abbacchio x reader

[liberty-barnes]

Two

Peter Parker x Female!Reader

Summary: Two decades worth of love, two people to have it all tumbling down.

Warnings: angst, angst, angst, just angst, uh cheating, kinda? heartbreak, the last line can be taken as *slightly* suicidal

Word Count: 1.2k words

Estimated Reading Time: 5 minutes

A/N: sooo! this is for abby's summer writing challenge, cause for some reason i was really feeling this prompt.

i've never entered a writing challenge before, this is exciting.

please do check her blog @theamazingtomholland​ out! she's amazing and deserves all the love in the world so go give it to her!!

Masterlist 

The room was deathly silent. Surrounded by darkness, rough bedsheets scratching at your bare legs, you allowed yourself to think.

Two decades. Two decades of love. Two decades of happiness. Two decades of bliss.

"Hello."

A young boy with soft honey eyes looked up from where he was hunched over the small plastic table, colored legos forgotten in favor of greeting the young girl.

"Hi!"

She sat down next to him and peered over at the partially-finished sculpture.

"What are you doing?"

"Building a castle out of legos."

She smiled shyly.

"I love legos."

His eyes went wide and his face lit up.

"Really?"

"Yeah, they're really cool. Do you think I could maybe help you build the castle? I've never tried but it sounds fun."

He nodded and showed her the lego set's instructions, and together they tackled the project.

He'd never met a girl that was interested in legos before, and all the boys just wanted to build cars or stupid things, never an actual castle, like him. Is this what his mom told him about? How one day he'd meet someone at he'd know he would want to be with them forever?

"I think I love you."

She didn't look up from her pieces.

"If you love me that means you can never leave."

"That's okay, I don't mind staying with you forever."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Everything you've built was shattered on the ground, a mix of glass, plastic, wood, love.

"Petey?"

You looked up at him through your lashes, homework long forgotten.

"Yeah, (Y/n/n)?"

"Do you think- nevermind, it's stupid anyway."

He set his pencil down and turned to you, already much too perceptive for an eleven-year-old.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

You mulled over his words for a little while before taking in a big breath.

"I want you to kiss me, but I'm scared I'll be bad at it."

He took your hand in his and smiled.

"I don't care, we'll practice together until we're good at it."

You smiled, getting closer until your noses touched.

"Promise?"

You could feel his breath on your lips, excitement running through you.

"Promise."

Even two days after, the taste of his lips still lingered in yours. For the first time in your life, you wished it could go away.

"Petey?"

Your boyfriend turned around in his rolling chair, pen stuck between his teeth, and hummed in acknowledgment.

"Do you think this was a good idea?"

He tilted his head to the side, looking much like a confused puppy.

"What was?"

"This... moving in together..."

He sighed and closed his textbook, putting the cap back on his pen so it won't dry out, then crawled towards you. He sat with his back towards the headboard and pulled you into his lap, stroking your hair.

"How long have we known each other?"

"Since we were four."

"And how long have we been dating?"

"Since we were four."

You giggled at the fact that no matter how old you grew, how much you changed, or how crazy it seemed, Peter had been your only constant.

"Exactly. That's fourteen years, babe. We've been together for fourteen years. We've been in love for fourteen years. Moving in together isn't gonna change anything, we pretty much live at each other's houses anyway."

You nuzzled his neck and sighed deeply.

"What's this really about?"

"I... My cousin was here a few days ago and she just... She told me that it was weird- that we were weird, cause we've always been together. We were each other's first and only everything and she said relationships like this don't last cause eventually someone gets bored and..."

You trailed off, not wanting to finish that train of thought.

"(Y/n)? Can you look at me, please?"

You straightened up and locked eyes with him, feeling the tears threatening to come down.

"I love you. You and only you, from the moment I saw you until my last breath, I will always love you."

He took off the bandage on his hand and your eyes were drawn to the cellophane covered spot on the back of it. It was right between his thumb and pointer, and you frowned a bit.

"I wanted to show it to you for your birthday, but what's two more days, right?"

He gently removed the plastic and you gasped at the sight of a fresh tattoo: a minimalistic rose, where your name created the stem.

"I love you, my beautiful flower, now and always. I'll never leave you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

The tears streamed down your face, but you couldn't feel a thing.

You entered your shared flat, backpack heavy on your shoulders, even though it was the lightest it's ever been.

You peered into the kitchen, looking for your fiancé, and immediately knew something was wrong. 

His favorite mug wasn't on the counter, but maybe he's just studying and brought it to your room.

There were none of his clothes in the living room, but maybe he put them to the wash.

The picture of him, Uncle Ben, and Aunt May wasn't in the hallway, but maybe...

The door to your room opened and Peter walked out, suitcase in his left hand, a letter in his.

"Petey? Where are you going?"

He froze.

"You're home early."

He said it as an accusation, like you had no right to be in your own home.

"Uh, yeah, I got off a little early today. Did I forget you had a trip or something, I would've helped you pa-"

"No."

He cut you off and you felt panic slowly rise in you.

"I wanted to do this the easy way, didn't plan on you being here..."

Your eyes were drawn to his right hand, where a white letter was, but... 

"Okay, just this bag, and then we're ready to go, right Petey?"

A blonde woman got out of your bedroom and you felt your heart drop to your stomach.

"Oh..."

She looked at you with pity. Pity.

"I'll wait for you in the car."

You waited until the door closed to turn back to your fiancé, eyes welling up.

"I'm sorry. I really am."

He tried to walk past you but you grabbed his arm.

"You can't leave me."

"I'm sorry."

"But you promised."

He looked at the ground and you felt him move away.

"I'm sorry."

You looked at the picture on your phone, cursing their smiles, cursing the people commenting on how cute they looked, heart breaking at the sight of the faded mark where your fiancé's... ex-fiancé's tattoo used to be.

Two decades of building only for it to be destroyed in two minutes. Two eyes that were once bright, but now had no light to them.

Two pink lines meant to change your life for the better.

Two hearts beating in sync, but for how long?

well... that’s that

um,,,,yeah

as always, hope you liked it! if you did, don’t forget to like/comment/reblog

love you all so much!

-Love, Miah

«────── « ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ » ──────» 

Taglists: (if your name is striked through it means for some reason tumblr wouldn’t let me tag you) 

PERMA TAG 

@jeezkiddo​ @officiallyunofficialperson​  @beananacake​ @theunderlier @harrysleftchelseaboot​ @averyfosterthoughts​ @onebigolemess​ @samoney69​ @agirlwithpointlessideas​ @ddaawwssoonn​ @inhumanwithpowers​ @imagineshere-forall​ @stiles-banshees​ @orowit​ @spideynut​ @deathofmissjackson​ @parkersbliss​ @ephemeral-limerences​ @write-from-the-heart​ @cardboard-ben​ @peterspideyy​ @my-alignment-is-bisexual @mendes-marvel​ @timotayswriter​ @inthecornerchair​ @lovelynerdytraveler​ @niallssweetheart22​ @incorrect-things​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @harishaanne​ @ellamw04 @bisexual-disappointment​ @onelovesr​ @ellyseveronica​ @sovereignparker​ @notsosmexy​ 

PETER PARKER TAG 

@dreaming-lia​ @markleehee​ @juliebean247​ @quechulitaaa​ @bubblegumbarnes​ @sofiaconlaz​ @bellaaa321-blog​ @parkerpetertingle​ @emily-louise-hynes @clara-licht​ @ekelly2015​ @inlovewithmobtom​ @quaksonhehe​ @danicarosaline​ @tutuabby28​ @sovereignparker​ @spn67-sister​ @t-monosapiens-h @kayleypaige2233​ @galaxystern08​ @highlydisfunctional1​ @jillanaholland​ @zeusmyster​ @sirtommyholland​ @a-singleboat​ @allthisfortommy​ @middevil456 @kdotcxz​ @drishtisikarwar​ 

MARVEL TAG 

@dreaming-lia​ @emily-louise-hynes @arts-ismything​ @peachyafshawn​ @cathwritestragediesnotsins​ @spn67-sister​ @t-monosapiens-h @galaxystern08​ @highlydisfunctional1​ @jillanaholland​ @hyluas @ravenagrimes @captainbuckyy​ @kaylig02​ @crazyassbitch-things-blog​ @sharenaloveyoux​ @tacobacoyeet​ @andycanbeemotional​ @angelicromanoff 

#abby's summer writing challenge #libby writes #libbys stuff #peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker angst #spiderman x reader #mcu spiderman #spider-man #marvel #avengers #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland angst

[rainbowbutterfrosting]

The Revived - Chapter 6: A Talk

This is chapter 6 of the dream smp fic @dramaticsnakes and I are writing. Thank you to @r0w3n-1n-d0ugh for beta-reading this chapter!

AO3

Read in order (on Tumblr)

Characters in this chapter: Wilbur, Tubbo, Ranboo, Ghostbur, Phil

Word count: 2,988

Cw:  Eating/food, major angst, loneliness, bottling up emotions, trust issues, fear of abandonment, discussions of betrayal, implied suicidal thoughts, loss of purpose

Fic summary: Wilbur was alive, and it was such a magnificent feeling, that made his mind spark with anticipation. It didn’t take long, however, for Wilbur to realize that this new breath of life, was not just his own. An echo-y voice hides in the back of his mind, and before he knows it, the transparent version of him he saw at the endless train station, is a lot more ingrained than he’d expected him to be.

And Wilbur really shouldn’t care. Because he’d be damned, if he spent the life he’d awaited for so long, babysitting a lost cause of a ghost, stuck in the very same limbo Wilbur spent so long in. It was an even exchange, and one Wilbur wasn’t going to mess with. Why exactly he ends up setting out to get the ghost out of his mind, in order to save the both of them, however, is beyond him. And perhaps Wilbur’s past isn’t as easy to leave behind, as he’d hoped it would be.

The table was already set before they walked down, three chairs and a hightop were around the table. As Michael sprinted towards the dining room, everyone else walked at a moderate pace. Wilbur found himself sitting at the chair furthest away from the little family. While Wilbur didn’t mind imposing on most things, the domestic scene before him appeared private, as Tubbo gently lifted Michael to the highchair. Everyone sat down, and as Wilbur saw the food on the plate, he realized that it had once again been quite a bit since he ate. He looked at the inviting steak, and cut off a piece of it with his knife and fork, shoving it into his mouth, embracing the taste.

“What’s that?” Ghostbur asked in awe, causing Wilbur to feel a little abashed, as he realized what was going on. Wilbur swallowed. “Mm, this steak is really good,” he said in response, and Ghostbur gasped excitedly.

The steak was actually quite delicious. He didn’t remember tasting Tubbo’s cooking in a while, which of course made sense, all the years at a train station considered and all. Though this was clearly food, made by someone who cooked proper meals frequently, which was an interesting change, from their time in the wars. A change that left a strange stinging sensation in Wilbur’s chest that showed up uninvited every once in a while, but was fairly easy to quench. 

“Thank you!” Tubbo said with a cheerful smile.

“There wasn’t much food in limbo, you know.” Wilbur commented, eating a bigger piece, “In fact, there wasn’t anything. I tried to lick the walls once or twice, but they tasted worse than the walls in this world.”

Tubbo’s face turned slightly pale, and he chuckled awkwardly. “How do you know-” he trailed off and shook his head, “Nevermind.”

At that moment, Wilbur realized that all this time being dead, made people look at Wilbur strangely, and treat his comments with a new sort of hesitance. What would usually have been met with laughter, was met with stares and grim silence. 

But Wilbur’s words were just something everyone else would have to get used to eventually.

Ranboo sat next to Michael, cutting the steak on Michael’s plate into tiny pieces. He tried, to little avail, to put a piece into Michael’s mouth, which Michael looked away from quickly. “Come on, Michael, it’s dinner time,” he said gently.

Tubbo turned to his husband and his child- which was a sentence Wilbur still hadn’t gotten quite used to thinking- and tried to assist. He smiled nervously, as he grabbed another little piece. “It’s good for you, Michael. And delicious!” he took a piece from his own place and ate it, followed by an overexaggerated hum of satisfaction. 

Ranboo took the fork and asked Michael, “Do you want it?”

Michael shook his head no, slightly pouting. Ranboo gasped, “But steak is so good! Well…” he aimed the fork for his mouth instead of Michael’s. “I’ll gladly take it, steak is one of the best things ever.” When Ranboo opened his mouth to eat the steak, Michael made grabby hands towards the fork.

Ranboo barely held back a laugh, “But this is my steak isn’t it?”

Michael shook his head again and moved his head towards the fork. Ranboo smiled, his plan working exactly how he expected it to, “Alright, I’ll let you have a bite.”

Ranboo led the fork to Michael’s mouth as the toddler took it gratefully. Michael even dared to make a face towards his father that could only be described as a pure soul attempting to look evil. Ranboo gasped dramatically, “I thought we taught you better than such manners!”

Michael snorted as he opened his mouth for another bite. Ranboo cut up a small piece of steak when he was casually interrupted by a series of knocks on the door. The specific pattern flew by Wilbur, but he felt instinctively that they were a planned order. Tubbo got up at the same time as Ranboo.

“I’ll get it,” Tubbo assured him.

“You already made dinner. I’ll do it,” Ranboo pushed his chair back in.

Tubbo walked towards the door, “I’ve got it, Boo, spend some time with Michael.” Ranboo’s shoulders noticeably relaxed at the nickname.

“Alright,” Ranboo sat back down and picked up Michael’s fork. He led it towards the toddler as routine, occasionally making comments about how he wished for a bite so Michael wouldn’t get suspicious. 

Wilbur took the moment to remember his recent conversation with Ranboo. Why did Ranboo believe Dream was such an antagonist to imply that it was obvious why he held such distaste for him? There wasn’t blood on Dream’s green hoodie, but Ranboo clearly saw it on his hands in a way Wilbur couldn’t understand. “Why do you hate Dream?”

Ranboo tensed, “I- well, hate isn’t the word I would describe it as…” While Michael was chewing he ate a piece for himself. If Ranboo was actually hungry or trying to delay the conversation, Wilbur would never know.

“Then describe it.” Wilbur was tired of the lack of knowledge he knew. Before he was decently satisfied, but his curiosity demanded more when Ranboo mentioned Dream. 

Ranboo chewed on his steak, clearly longer than he needed to. “It’s not really too important on the word choice, it’s just-” Ranboo looked at Michael with a fondness as he slowly got another bite for the boy. “He’s done a lot of things,” Ranboo’s voice was almost a whisper.

Ghostbur hummed, “People don’t really like Dream. I can’t recall much of him, but… he did something bad. No, a lot of things bad. He did some bad stuff to… to Tommy! Made him really sad.”

Wilbur nodded from Ghostbur’s explanation as it was more helpful than Ranboo’s. He was about to ask what Dream did to Tommy, but his thoughts were interrupted when Tubbo spoke, “Guess what, Michael, Grandpa’s here!” Wilbur looked over and saw Phil rolling his eyes at Tubbo’s word choice. 

Wilbur remained quiet as Phil’s eyes lingered on him. 

Phil’s expression was akin to concern, and Wilbur wasn’t that fond of it. Once again, he felt as if he was on display, and as if he’d given something away he should’ve kept to himself. “Techno said you’d be here,” Phil said quietly, and he waited for a few moments as if he wanted a response.

Wilbur didn’t know what satisfying response he could give. “Did he?” he asked, trying to keep his tone light, as he jokingly added, “You know, I almost managed to forget how much of a bastard that guy was.” Ghostbur gasped in a worried kind of way, though he didn’t say a thing out loud.

Phil hummed and walked towards Michael. He gave the toddler a fond pat on the head, a gesture that reminded Wilbur far too much of a less tainted past. Phil looked at Ranboo and Tubbo. “He’s grown a bit since the last time I saw him,” he said.

“He has, hasn’t he?” Tubbo said proudly, “He’s been eating well too, mostly. We had to take away the yellow crayons. He has quite a taste for gold.” he chuckled.

Phil laughed, as he continued to pat Michael, who had excited sparks in his eyes. When Phil turned his face towards Wilbur however, it changed from laughter to a simple smile. Wilbur had the urge to walk away, though he stayed put, taking some more bites of his steak. “Listen…” Phil said, after a few casual greetings to the child and the parents, “Can I talk to you for a second, mate?”

Wilbur tensed up because he knew it was directed at him. The word alone hung in the air as well, implying that this would not be where the conversation took place. In short, that meant this was a serious conversation, and unfortunately, Wilbur had a vague idea of what it was going to be about. He nodded, more sheepishly than he would’ve liked to, and stood up from the table. Phil excused the both of them, and the two of them left the room together.

When Phil opened the door to the outside, Wilbur started to wonder if this was the moment he would be backstabbed, though he knew the reasoning was much more emotional and intangible than something like that. A backstabbing would be easy to tackle. A conversation with a concerned father was a lot less simple.

The two stood outside in the snow, and Wilbur was reminded of their first meeting after his revival. “What is it?” Wilbur said sharply.

“Wil…” Phil said softly, “I uh- I was wondering if you’re doing alright.”

Wilbur scoffed at the question, “I clearly am.”

“Wilbur,” Phil said more sternly, though not out of anger but more so out of concern. “I’m worried about your… safety- that might be the best way to put it.”

Wilbur nodded, but he barely meant it, “Understood, Mr. Minecraft, I’ll make sure to look both ways before crossing the street.” The words meant to come out in a playful way, but they were sharp with edges that hurt himself along with Phil.

“No, I-” Phil closed his eyes, focusing on his word choice. He opened them again with a look that lingered in melancholy but tried to look hopeful for Wilbur’s sake. “Techno told me about… your burns and I…” Phil took a deep breath in to try and address the topic directly, “Why did you go into the nether without any armor?” The words were quiet, but solid by themselves. 

Wilbur couldn’t hold back an eye-roll from how many times he’d been asked that today, Phil slightly frowned at this. “I mean, it doesn’t exactly matter much anymore. I’ll be more careful next time I go.”

Phil pursed his lips, “You don’t understand the point.” Phil sighed, “I’m worried about you.”

Although it shouldn’t have, it caught Wilbur off-guard. He didn’t ask why, because he knew he’d get a default answer about how he was a human being and his son and probably a sob fest that he’d heard before. He wasn’t a child anymore. He knew his place in the world. His place didn’t have any room for his father’s concerns. “I don’t need your pity about how it’s hard for me to get used to living again.” Wilbur didn’t even intend for that to slip out. He didn’t need to tell Phil anything. He didn’t need someone to be against him despite acting like they cared.

A part of him painfully thought how that description didn’t fit only one person.

“I know it takes a bit of practice?” Phil awkwardly laughed before his calm tone returned, “But you can’t get better at being alive by being reckless. It would be like saying you can’t use any measuring spoons while baking. I- We’ve got spoons, there’s no need to go through extra pain.”

“What the fuck does me going into the nether and tripping have to do with spoons?”

Phil’s tone softened, “You know what I mean.”

Wilbur looked at the snow around him, not being able to bear Phil’s sad look anymore. “I frankly don’t.”

Silence lingered in the air. It wasn’t a comfortable silence that made you enjoy the moment. It was harsh and uncomfortable to breathe in.

“Wilbur…” The tone of Phil’s voice tugged on a part of him. It was an idiotic part that needed to acknowledge that he wasn’t going to be Phil’s child again. He was just a disaster of a failed nation that everyone seemed wary of. 

A disaster of a son as well.

“You should go home.” Wilbur refused to meet his father’s eyes. Instead, he stared at his white breaths in the frozen air. 

“I don’t want you to leave again without me knowing when you’re coming back,” Wilbur told himself that he didn’t hear the small crack in Phil’s voice. He wanted to go into his father’s arms and have a moment where the two were together in a warm house in front of the fireplace. Instead, he settled on wrapping his own arms around himself. They weren’t warm to his body. They didn’t provide what he needed. Tears formed in his eyes at the thought of going home with Phil and pretending that things weren’t different now.

But everything was different. He hated that. He hated how the only laugh he would get was a small chuckle as everyone assumed he was a child that didn’t know the dangers of the world. He died three times. He knew danger better than anyone else would. He’d been betrayed more times than he could count on both of his hands. What if Phil got the courage to stab him unprompted? To bring a sword in the night and take care of everyone’s problem? “You should go,” Wilbur’s sobs almost escaped him as tears silently slid down his face. 

Phil sighed. “You know where to go if you… yeah…” Phil’s footsteps moved through the snow behind him, slow at first, only a pause stopping them. Phil wanted Wilbur to ask him to come back. Wilbur knew this. He knew he was an asshole, but he needed independence. It was ironic that he fought for L’Manburg’s, yet, it was still out of reach for him. 

After a few seconds of mutual silence, Phil’s steps continued, fading slowly. When they stopped again, Wilbur turned, perhaps to apologize but saw no one in sight. It took him a moment to realize Phil already went through the nether portal. 

Phil was gone.

He wasn’t coming back. Wilbur put a hand over his mouth, he had learned to cry silently during one of the wars. A quite useful skill if you asked him.

But no one would ask him. He was a fucking idiot that couldn’t hold onto anyone, no matter how much they asked him to stay. Yet, no matter how much he held on, he was always alone. They didn’t even leave on day one or two. No, no, no. They had to leave years after he knew them. They had to make Wilbur think he could actually hold onto them before they left.

Wilbur’s legs collapsed as he sobbed into his hand. He put his other hand on top to make sure he didn’t make a noise. He didn’t need Tubbo nor Ranboo to discover how pathetic he was. They had their family. They were happy. They didn’t need Wilbur. No one did. Tommy held a grudge against him, Technoblade thought of him as an annoying child who couldn’t handle himself, and Tubbo only took him in out of pity. 

And that didn’t even touch on Ranboo. Ranboo must’ve hated him by now. He asked a few too many questions, lingered on topics a little too long. 

He supposed that Michael cared about him. But at such an age, the kid probably cared about every little piece of grass. He wasn’t special. He was just another blade of grass that could barely make an impact. His unfinished symphony was a finished crater covered in glass, his name typically regarded out of spite instead of love. The feeling was mutual. 

“I- why did neither of you say goodbye? I thought after 6 months apart you would be constantly talking, since being in here is really lonely…” Ghostbur’s voice started to crack as small cries escaped from him. “I thought time makes the heart grow fonder, not angry and sad. No, bitter. That's a better word for it.”

Wilbur spluttered slightly, as he scoffed through the sobs. “No no, it’s… Thank you, Ghostbur, but it’s-” he stopped, his eyes widening, and his heart seeming to take a break from beating for one fleeting moment. “Excuse me-” he said, his eyebrows suddenly furrowed, “How long did you say we’d been apart?”

“Half a month. No, wait, half a year but also six months since they’re the same. Well, there’s probably a few more days added-”

Ghostbur was cut off by Wilbur’s astonished words, “I- I wasn’t there six months.”

The disbelief rang through his ears louder than Ghostbur could ever speak. Thirteen years hadn’t passed. Thirteen and a half years hadn’t passed.

Six months.

Just six months.

#dream smp #dream smp fanfic #wilbur soot #ghostbur #tubbo #ranboo #michael #c!michael #c!wilbur #c!tubbo #c!ranboo #philza #c!philza

[solastia]

Dear Authornim | 2

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

Word Count: 1,862

Summary: You’re a writer of BTS fanfiction. rockstarjin is your favorite reader that you’ve actually come to be friends with…and maybe had a bit of a crush on if you were honest. You’re up for quite the surprise.

Warnings: Not really much this chapter. Single instance of the word whore, but no one was calling someone that. It was just a comment. Semi-vague sort of sexting (you’ll see). 

Notes: I might make a separate chapter after this is done - like a bonus type thing - featuring some comments from rockstarjin, if you guys are interested. I wasn’t sure if everyone would want to see them or if they’d bore you, so I kinda glossed over that. Let me know if that’s something you’d want! Commissioned by @kimseokmomjins

Being a writer - even if it’s simply for fanfiction - you take comments and reviews very seriously. A good comment or review can lift your spirits and leave you smiling for a whole day. A negative comment often leaves you questioning everything and going over your chapters with a fine-tooth comb. The rare unicorns were the readers that took the time to leave long and detailed comments, stating exactly what they liked and disliked about the latest chapter. Many of these were filled with valuable suggestions and helped you decide the path that your stories would take. 

One such unicorn was named rockstarjin, a reader that had been following your work for nearly a year now. His first comment had practically been drabble-sized, and had covered everything from his enjoyment over how realistically you characterized Kim Seokjin to how he was certain he would never use the “W” word (he literally typed out “W” word instead of whore, something you still teased him over to this day). 

That first review of his was only one of many. He took the time to give detailed reviews on every single chapter you posted until you discovered that in your head you were practically writing for him. It had even gotten to the point where several of your stories were ideas that the two of you had chatted about on tumblr for months, working through every detail. He still seemed a little iffy on the smut, but he’d gotten you to consider the idea of writing Seokjin as “Less aggressive” in the bedroom. 

Your friendship had grown until you were now friends on practically every social media app - nevermind that his profiles were always suspiciously void of personal information. The more that you talked to “Rocky” (you started calling him that months ago since he didn’t seem excited about telling anyone his name, though he knew yours), the more you looked forward to interacting with him. 

You couldn’t even explain really why you were getting so attached to some blank face behind the screen. You didn’t even know all that much about the real him, just small observations from chats. Like, you knew that he seemed similar to Seokjin in a lot of ways, which is probably why he claimed him as a bias. 

Rocky was very fond of puns and dad jokes, often sending you one first thing in the morning on KKT instead of a hello or good morning like a normal person. This morning it was, “Why did the tomato turn red? Because it saw the salad dressing.” You were ashamed that they always made you laugh at least a little bit, but it made you happy that one of the first things he thought to do in the morning was send you something. 

He was also fond of talking to you about food and recipes, acting affronted whenever you mentioned not knowing what something was. He would literally bully you into going to the grocery store and buying the ingredients he’d list out, demanding pictures of the final product like he was Gordon Ramsey. You had to admit he had good taste in food, even if you didn’t think your cooking skills were quite on par with his. It sometimes made you wonder if he was a chef, but the one time you’d brought it up he’d claimed to be too damn tired to cook and was living vicariously through you. Of course, that led to you asking what he did that got him so tired and he gave you another vague answer, stating he was in entertainment. Whatever the hell that meant. 

It bothered you sometimes that even after all this time he was disinclined to tell you anything, but you couldn’t help it as your feelings slowly evolved from those of friendship to...well, something more. You were a little hesitant to use the L word, considering you only knew what he wanted you to know, but you definitely had a crush at least. Not surprising considering he seemed to be everything you were looking for. He was considerate and compassionate, funny, creative, and so many other things. However, the fact that he was so very loud and proud about his love for Seokjin made you avoid looking at your feelings too closely. Because while you were over here pining for him, the only person that praised Seokjin more than Rocky was Kim Seokjin himself. And that could mean any number of things. 

Even when he helped you with smut ideas he got you excited. He had slowly gotten you to lean away from always writing Seokjin as some powerful dom - something your other readers had begun to notice and comment on - and now most of your scenes had him as being the more submissive one. He seemed to like it best when the main character was more of a soft dom, willing to take charge and take care of Seokjin. Rocky claimed that a man like Seokjin who was always working hard and worrying about one thing or another would relish the idea of being taken care of. You had to admit it made sense. 

You sigh and glance at your phone again, noting the lack of notifications. Your morning pun was the last you’d heard from Rocky today, something that had been happening for a few days now. Considering BTS was on tour right now, you’d expected a lot more messages about how he thought Seokjin was especially handsome today. Instead, for almost a week it had been nothing but your morning jokes and once he sent you a picture of his fancy looking dinner complaining about the portion size. You were beginning to really miss him, but you figured he must be busy. 

You wanted to scream with him today, considering BTS was finally going to be in your city in a couple days. You’d bought the tickets months ago, and Rocky had even convinced you to get pit tickets, something you never do because it’s basically a gladiator stadium up there. You were currently waiting for one of the boys to show up on vlive since the last concert before they traveled to your city had just finished a bit ago. It had been a fantastic show and Seokjin had looked as beautiful as always. You hoped he would be the one to go live, but that was rare unless he was with another member. 

Suddenly, your phone beeps and shows a message on KKT. 

Rocky: Kill me

You smile widely, excited flutters starting in your belly. It was ridiculous how pleased you got just to hear from him. 

You: Is there an option B? 

Rocky: We could run away and start a new life on a deserted island. Our descendants will become known as the most beautiful people on the planet. 

You blush and force yourself to cough to cover up the giggle that threatened to escape. 

You: Is that so? 

Rocky: Naturally. They all take after me, of course. 

You: Of course. 

You: What brought this on? 

Rocky: I’m so damn tired. My body hurts and I just want to sleep for a week. 

You: Oh no! Do you have time to soak in the bath? Epsom salt works wonders.

Rocky: I’ll be able to soak later. Right now I’m just forcing myself to stay awake long enough to eat. I feel like a zombie. 

Rocky: Hey, why did the zombie cross the road?

You: Why? 

Rocky: TO EAT THE CHICKEN 🤣

You: 🤭 

You: Really though, take care of yourself. I don’t want you getting sick on me. 

Rocky: How would you take care of me?

You gasped, peering hard at the phone. This was new. Of course, you could be reading this the wrong way, and he’s simply asking to ask. 

You: Depends. Are you asking for tips or in the white boy “What would you do if I was there with you” way?

Rocky: Let’s try it this way. Say I’m Kim Seokjin. I’m tired and hurting after another long night of performing. You’re waiting for me in my hotel room. How would you take care of Jin?

You: Omigosh, are you voluntarily helping with a smut scene? 

Rocky: Sure 

You: Ok, let's see. This scene can’t get too crazy if he’s tired like that. I think mostly I would focus on his comfort. 

So, he’d show up and I’d already have a bath waiting and food on the way. Maybe some aromatherapy candles are lit and some quiet instrumentals in the background. I’d let him soak until the food got there, hang out in the bathroom with him and let him vent to me if he wanted. 

After his meal, I would put a towel on the bed and have him lay on top so I could rub him down with massage oil. Naked, of course ;) 

I’m sure he gets it from professionals, but I think he’d appreciate it right after a concert and bath. 

Then, it would just depend on what kind of story it was. I could either rub him down like that until he falls asleep, or it could go the smut way. There are lots of options for that too depending on the story. I could give him a handjob while I talk sweetly to him, I could ride him and tease him, maybe peg him if he’s into that. Anything that would keep him soft and pliant, because the goal is to get him comfortable and happy. To show him he can just let go with me, let me be in charge of his pleasure. Show him he’s loved and cherished.  

Rocky: Fuck

You: Too much? 🙊 

Rocky: No

The phone was silent for a whole two minutes. Surely he’d heard worse from you, so you didn’t think you’d freaked him out or something. When another message came in you breathed a sigh of relief. 

Rocky: So, I’m gonna be in your city for the concert

You: No shit?! I can suggest so many great places for you to eat!!!

You: Or if you wanted, we could meet up? No pressure and I totally won’t be offended if you don’t want to. Stranger danger and all that. 

Rocky: You know what

Rocky: Let’s meet

#btssmutclub #bts #bts fanfic #kim seokjin #seokjin #jin #seokjin fanfic #seokjin x reader #dear authornim #solastia

[thefloatingstone]

overlordraax replied to your post: Not feeling much better after waking up. Somebody...

List your top fave fanfics. List your top fave tropes in fanfic.

Oh noooooo this is a really good one too sdjkjdhfsh

I was actually thinking of doing a fanfic Rec list tbh!! I hope you don’t mind that they’re all Undertale fics! I think I’ve read more fanfiction for this fandom than I’ve read for any other fandom I’ve ever been in. (Including MLP which is a friggen miracle if you stop to think about it)

BUT ANYWAY! Please check out these fics by some incredibly talented individuals (some of these I’ve put in lists before but w/e here it is again!)

(in literally no particular order at all)

Postcards from Waterfall

Rating: Explicit (Fic as a whole is T but occasionally has specific smut scenes which are marked for easy skipping)

Ship?: Sansby

Setting: Classic timeline

Word Count: 353 763

Ongoing

After an unremembered Genocide timeline, Sans is struggling with lingering feelings of dread. On top of this, coming to terms with his own childhood, and dealing with a lifelong recovery from a massive accident in his youth. However, things seem to slowly improve as he unexpectedly grows closer to Grillby, and feelings turn towards the romantic. But there are still things lurking in the Underground that would do them harm.

(the fic mostly focuses on Sans’ childhood trauma dealing with a apathetic Gaster, an mysterious “Accident” he can barely remember in his near-childhood, his developing feeling for Grillby, and their awkward relationship developing and reacting to situations around them. the plot is paced slowly, but I wouldn’t call it a slice-of-life story as there are larger things at play and get slowly revealed as things move forward)

Thunderstruck

Rating: T

Ship?: Reader / Underfell Papyrus

Setting: Classic Timeline with Underfell Sans and Papyrus

Word Count: 263 284

Ongoing

It’s the classic timeline, and monsters have been on the surface for almost 2 years already. In the Skeleton household though, Sans and Papyrus have acquired two tag-alongs in the form of Underfell Sans (Red) and Underfell Papyrus (Edge) who have come from a much more violent and desperate timeline with no way of going back. This wouldn’t be so bad, but a lifetime of being on constant alert and being intimidating and scary to everyone, where it once had Edge be the most respected of monsters as Captain of the Royal Guard, now sees him severely emotionally and socially crippled. Unable to make friends due to his learned behaviour of being scary and permanently angry, unable to find work because most monsters AND humans find him too hard to handle, and struggling to find his place in his own family unit, with his relationship with his own brother awkward after so many years of pretending to be “boss and henchman”, a strained relationship with Sans who does not trust him (for admittedly good reason) and with the only person he seems on good terms with being Papyrus (who also represents everything Edge could have been but have no hope of achieving).

Things change when caught in a pretty bad thunderstorm, Reader (you) finds him hiding in an alley outside your apartment. And lucky for him, you’re crazy enough to let a terrified stranger into your home until the weather improves, and even crazier, as you decide once he starts yelling, that you’d like to stay in contact with him.

The story is a slowburn Reader-insert romance, but it’s almost much more than that. Told from Edge’s perspective, it’s a recovery fic more than anything. Recovering from a lifetime of trauma, violence, learned survival behaviours, mending relationships with family, learning to fit into a world that at first seems completely incompatible with you, and finding a place in life. Lots of self reflection, sometimes self loathing, pining, confusion, frustration, brief arguments over stupid petty things, arguments over really IMPORTANT things, and a lot of tenderness, even if you’re not someone to go for Reader-insert stories, I highly recommend this one if only for the characterisation and emotional and psychological exploration, especially for Edge and his relationship to to his brother and the world at large. It definitely sold me on his character in a way I’ve never really considered.

Panic Room

Rating: M (note cw on fic)

Ship?: Nothing yet but working towards Reader/Papyrus Reader/Sans (no f//ntcest)

Setting: Swapfell

Word Count: 150 548

Ongoing

It’s been years since monsters broke the barrier, stormed into Ebott, and forcefully took over, place Toriel as the monarch and cutting the city off from the outside world. Ebott has become a dystopian dictatorship, where humans are second class citizens who can have incredible luxury depending on how useful and accommodating they are to their new monster rules, or simply be exterminated if stepping out of line. Reader (you) have been imprisoned for almost a year, living in torturous conditions, scarred from beatings and with no hope or future to even think of. But due to your spirit of Perseverance, you continue to live, to not give in to despair. One day, Swapfell Papyrus (Rus) wanders into the prison, looking to “buy” himself a human (for reasons unknown to you) and, for whatever reason, picks you.

He brings you home, has you cleaned up, healed up to the best of his ability, and then has the hurdle of trying to present you to Swapfell Sans; the Lieutenant of the Royal Guard and Alphys’ right hand man. On the verge of throwing you out, Sans allows you to stay and work as the maid in his meticulous home. A hard job, but you accept, unwilling to try your luck on the streets of Ebott. And so your new life begins with the brothers, and the longer you work there, the more you learn. You learn more about the very touchy but at his core good-hearted Rus, you learn more about the terrifying and ruthless Sans, and the sadness and desire to show kindness behind his mask, and you learn more about Ebott. About the constant servailence, the propaganda machine, the injustice, the violence, the broken system ruled by the blind and terrible queen.

You don’t know what sort of life or future is in store for you now, but it’s better than the prison (ANYTHING is better than the prison) and just at the edges of reality, where you can’t even see or notice them yet, a change is coming. Invisible and far in the distance, but slowly approaching.

Dirty Laundry

Rating: T

Ship?: Reader/Papyrus Reader/Sans (poly relationship, no f//ntcest)

Setting: Swapfell

Word Count: 49 369

Ongoing

Reader (you) have recently moved to Ebott for a change in life (it being monster central may or may not have something to do with that). It’s been a few months since monsters were freed, and many are integrating with society slowly but surely. One day, while at the laundromat, you find yourself watched by a scary but ultimately nervous and “I don’t know how to laundry!” Swapfell Papyrus.

In time, a friendship forms. He’s a really sweet guy, anxious but eager to please. It would all be very cute if not for the fact that his asshole brother doesn’t seem very pleased with you (or anybody?) “worming their way” into his baby brother’s life. Nevermind that their therapist said they needed time apart! Nevermind that Papyrus has asked him for some space! He’s going to make sure his little brother is safe! Just as he always had.

Besides... if he doesn’t, what else is there for him to do? Leave Papyrus alone? Leave both of you alone? Accept that Papyrus doesn’t need him any more? May not even want him any more?

...would that make him happier?

Fired Up and Bone Weary (Series)

Rating: G - T

Ship?: Sansby

Setting: Classic Timeline

Word Count: various

Complete

A collection of short stories and oneshots, documenting the everyday life and events in Sans, Grillby and Papyrus’ lives, starting underground and early dating, and working its way to surface life and marriage. Mostly just fluffy, slice of life settings, only now and then undercut by misfortune or drama. Dealing with Grillby’s complicated family, trying to manage Sans’ fluctuating depression, and Papyrus’ role and desire for a family. Most of it is just small, everyday happiness though. And the fear that at any moment all of it could disappear with a reset is (most of the time) not thought about.

(I haven’t finished the series myself just yet. I got stuck on the third last story in the series, the one with the most chapters, due to personal reasons. I do plan to finish it at a later date, but at this point in time it hit a little too close to home. I still recommend all of it whole-heartedly, as I doubt other people will react to it the way I did.)

There are also a few oneshots as well as fics I’ve mentioned before (like SSLL for instance which I STILL love and you guys should STILL read!!) but these are the main ones I’m reading/have read at the moment!

If you guys want I can make a list of oneshots too. Just let me know 8′D I also didn’t include people’s tumblr names just in case they didn’t want it spread around for any particular reason, and I didn’t include more than one fanfic per author, I may add some of their other work in another post at some point. But I wanted to give each author equal exposure in this post.

Anyway! Hopefully you guys consider any (although you really should read ALL) of these fics! And give the authors comments and kudos!

#fanfic rec #Fanfic #Fanfiction #recommendations #C-Puff replies #overlordraax

[ain-t-bovvered]

14x10 Commentary

Zeta and Giuls scream together, and then die.

Me & Zeta will watch together season 14′s episodes as they come out and we’ll do our commentary while watching.

1 2  3  4  5  6  7  8  9

14x10 Nihilism 

-I did not want to see Jack like that again thanks

Zeta: true

- And there was a need for some wings there honestly .

[ comes back crawling]

HERE

Zeta:  the bar sceeeene

-.....THAT’S A DAMN SQUIRREL WITH A AVIATOR CAP ON ( also I re wrote squirrel four times before getting it right) 

- MOOSE!!! 

-......The Moose has a tag with “FAMILY BUSINESS” written on it----lol Jensen

Zeta: What’s her name

- PAMELAAAAAAAA . Damn woman I went a bit Bi there

Zeta: OH YES.

- [Music: and I’m searching for a rainbow] .....WOW

-[on the counter] Daphne loves Fred.

 my monkey dirty brain: Daddy loves tips. 

-hot. want that.

Zeta: the tequila or the bartender?

Bitch please . both.

- D: “ What are we, savages?”

Zeta: Oh the lips

-Cosmic Cowboy. *chokes*

-FB

-why is it always a ghoul case?

-Lol but who’s the drunk guy tho

Zeta: Bitch, look at her biceps

- some Bi slippage there too I see. FOCUS

Zeta: also indeed. Who is he?

-D:”I’ve never had anything this nice”

Also....I would be like Dean if I had a bar. One for the costumer and one for me! woohoo .

- D: “How come you always have a boyfriend?”

  P: “How come you always want what you can’t have?”

[looks into the camera like in the office]

- D: “This is my dream” 

I kinda see it tho....old grumpy Dean Winchester being the Bobby while running a bar like that. Yes....I like it.

- I knew it . I wanna see someone closed behind that “closet” *wink wink*

Zeta: Oh oh

Zeta: the slo mo.

-NICE .You are welcome for this gif where I let you enjoy the full over the count jump. Nice healthy middle age man over the fence jump ( nevermind this is an italian oil ad ).

-The blood. So cute

Zeta: I’m famous

- mmm

Zeta: shit

-Hello M boi, I missed you fam

Zeta: Changed clothes

- OMFG are you saying that the Archangel Michael macVanity von DramaQueen really just angel mojo changed into his Peaky Blinder wanna be in front of them?

He’s so flamboyant , I love him .

Zeta: The close up

- M making three men kneel with so much as lift his hands.  WHAT A MOOD. WHERE CAN I GET THAT? I WANT 10.

- M : “ I saw everything”  Yeah no shit we kinda see that coming too

-DoN ‘T IntERrUPt mE 

Zeta: Don’t interrupt me

-I’m-

I’m so bothered right now. Dom Michael for the win

-OH WOW

- Sam just “assbutted” Michael lol.

Castiel : Sam....did you just molotov my brother with holy fire?

Sam: uh ....No?

- HE ANGRY

- Dean’s not home right now...

Zeta: Please leave a message

*giggling* I love him

Zeta: His voice GOD DAMN

-yes

- Castiel hair tho.

Zeta: Do you? Cocky much

-but needs to play it cool. Can’t risk to mess up the pomaded hair.

- S:” We the angel cuffs on , Michael is under control”

 M: “Keep telling yourself that “  ( ͡~ ͜ʖ ͡°)

I *clap* LOVE *clap* HIM *clap*

- S: “Dump him in the trunk of the Impala” ... DUMP HIM .ahahahahaah

-Garth is in the trunk

Zeta: it’s a big trunk

-M: “ It’s a party!”

- J: “ It’s not like any of us can fly”

 M : “ Well one of us can”

 S: “ STFU”

- J:” Sam, are we gonna die here?” ... wow Jack...babe...stfu

-Yes OMG I forgot about the stalky reaper

Zeta: You mess up so many things

- it ain’t wrong

- [in john Mulaney’s Trump voice] we locked Death away and enslaved the reapers

Zeta: Poor Cas

- ok but WHO....death? Michael is asking himself that too.

-Yes , put him in the dungeon. HOT

Zeta: shit

-I can hear you

Zeta: Shit

-Ahahahahahaahah

Zeta: SHIT

-I’m loving this

Zeta: Bring back Crowley.

Zeta: We left Garth in the trunk looool

- that....everytime we don’t see a character for long that’s it...they are in the trunk.

Zeta: Castiel

-CASTIEL . so strange, I love him, he’s such a sarcastic asshole.

- M: “Yes, uh, put a chair against the door”

Zeta: This pretty smile as I rip you apart

-I’M SHAKING. YAS.

Zeta: Control yourself

- S: “Cass this is all we’ve got”

Zeta: Again?

- well it is a loop.

-MORE SHOTS.  (me)

Zeta: The only thing missing is “heat of the moment”

- what if the woman is his conscience trying to get him out and if he sign he’s out? ...like....testing his resolution?

-Little insulting

Zeta: you’re nothing

Zeta: Why is he so perfect in this?

- J: “Dean---is strong”

  M *disgusted face*: “ Is a gnat “ . WOW

-OH SHUT UP OOOOH

Zeta: Emotional abuse.

- M: “ he was not happy, but he didn’t care-- Cause you are not Sam, you are not Cass.” 

[ me looking smiling to the Castiel/Misha hateclub]

-M: “You are a weak helpless thing”

- Jack , babe ....get away tho 

Zeta: LISTEN TO YOUR DAD

- M: “no I’m not and I can still hear you”

Zeta: Prick

- Love that prick..... literally 

- I care so little for the others I swear

- M: “Look at you, play nursemaind for a nephilim”

-C: “You are confusing loyalty and compassion for weakness”

Zeta: Damn what am I watching?

- [looks into the camera like in the office] Sexual tension

Zeta: so done. this. Close up

- M “and now...that I’m in here, I know why” 

-CHUCK

Zeta: He churn our draft after draft

- M speaks like he’s singing and mocking you at the same time. He has this musicality in his speak and I love it

- C: “Why would he do that?”

 M: “BECAUSE HE DOESN’T CARE!”

- good lord I swear all the angels are just brats throwing temper tantrum because they have a trash dad.

- M: “But now , I just want to burn every one of his little worlds until I catch up to the Old man”

Zeta: Even god can die.

- oh ok....overachiever much

Zeta: Hurt Jack

- No no Jack babe...keep your fucking soul .

Zeta: Cool science project

- Michael’s mind: if you mess up my perfectly combed hair Cass I swear-

- M: “ I give it a solid B- .....uh oooh”

 me nervously: .....wtf lol 

- M: *snorts* Oh Cass, I believe in you.

So rude...so nasty 

- j: “ What should I do?”

Zeta: Pray

-Thanks Cas, that’s-......that’s great

Zeta: You are all mine

- ..... YESSIR TAKE ME

Zeta: Dean’s mind.

- ..... if it was a funny episode they could have made so many jokes about being empty lol.

- me looking around haters mind ^

Zeta: This is what you are gonna become

-omg

- THAT WAS DEAN IN HELL.

- Dean’ “NOOOO “ at Castiel death is vibrating into my bones.

- S: “Dean is strong”

- C: “Sam, we’ve been through a lot and Dean is more than strong”

- S: “Dean thrive on trauma.” 

WE’VE BEEN KNEW

Zeta: Smart moose

- Somebody has been reading some meta tumblr posts

- P: “You really know how to talk to a lady don’t you?”

 me already at Castiel’s feet : wha

- That’s us fans watching 14 seasons of supernatural ^

-Bloody Cass is 100. *licks lips*

- P: “get me a shot. With your braaaain”

Zeta: Well hello.

- C:” That was- that....DeAN ThAt WaS An ACcidENT”

Zeta: Babyyyy

- them baby faces

- C:” WE NEED YOU TO COME BACK”

- S:”POUGHKEEPSIE”

- Dean’s mind : [ old modem sounds]

-M [Slow clap it out.] : Hey Fellas

-AND THE HAT IS BACK

Zeta: I’m you

Zeta: He gripped you tight and raised you from perdition

-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHHHAHAHAHAHAHAH I’M DYING SO BAD.

-BITCH I’M DEAD AND GIGGLING I CAN’T.

-but also....but the fuck is Mary at?... like wow.

- also....everything that Micheal is saying right now is causing me actual fucking pain.

- Ok and both Sam and Cas faces? well thanks

Zeta: He’s buying time

-WOW. Slow smile, oooooH

-S: “So in here, you are all talk”

- oh that’s why he doesn’t use his powers. Serviceable .

Zeta: So happy. Fuck

Zeta: Prove it

- Um...yes hello 911? 

Michael getting his hands dirty is too hot for me.

-Fucking Tiger man.

-Come on baby 

Zeta: Jack will do something “stupid”

- Well he is his parents’ son *shrug*

Zeta: that

- D:” Then we don’t kick him out, we keep him in”

-oooooh M goes in the closet, lol

Zeta: Oh my god.

- ....Well that was stupid AHAHAHAAH 

- I can’t stop laughing .

- M [ROAR] 

  me: ....

Zeta: I’m the cage.

-HE IS THE CAGE. That doesn’t seem right tho...come on.

Zeta: So now Dean has Michael locked up

-ooooh the magic hurt him. Forgot about that. My baby.

Zeta: Concerned Dad.

- The way Cass say : “you understand?” killed me....so soft...so worried...

- The little smile! Kill me now.

Zeta: He’s not ok.

-Dean is not ok.

Zeta: [henley alert]

-He’s like....naked. ( still has another tshirt under it tho)

-Oh he’s mad 

- I’M CRYING . HE LOOKS LIKE MY CAT WHEN I REFUSE TO LET HIM OUT .

amazing.

( Sorry for the not that clear gifs but I wanted to cut and past all the bits of that because it’s amazing)

Zeta: He’s suffering so much.

-That troat

- That door is not that sturdy tho

Zeta: Oh hell no

- oh hello death . 

-Aw hell naw.

- Death :” Except one”

-AW HELL NAW

Zeta: Which one?

- UGH

Zeta: No

-NO

Zeta: NOOO so much hurt

-OH FUCK

Zeta: Actual literal pain in my chest

YA KNOW WHAT?....I DON’T LIKE THAT LOOK .

NOT ONE BIT.

.

- lol I don’t even wanna look at tumblr now

Zeta: well you know me....I have

- of course you did

post gifs comment: I didn’t do my crack gifs for now, but they will be done in a separate post.

.

.

.

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If you want to get tagged in the future ones send an ask HERE or to @waywardbaby or a smoke signal, idk whatever I’m tired af.

TAGS: @supernatural-teamfreewillpage  @destiel-honeypie   @mariekoukie6661   @dragontamerm    @closetspngirl @rainflowermoon @mattiecat   @bunnybaby121115  @aliaitee @jacks-word-of-the-day @4evamc

#spn episode commentary #commentary #nihilism #14x10 #spn 14x10 #supernatural 14x10 #14x10 commentary #spn gifs

[goobergamer]

Welcome to the Real World, Chpt. 2/?

Fic Summary:  ‘The real world’ is Marine Corps slang referring to civilian life after discharge. -(x) 

Or, Washington, new and struggling veteran, moves into a duplex where he has a strange and surly neighbor with a penchant for the color red. (Sargington modern war vets AU)

Warnings: No common warnings for this chapter, ask me if you need specific content tagged for!

First chapter on Tumblr here: (x). This chapter crossposted to AO3 here: (x)

The first rain since Wash’s arrival to the house three days prior sees sheets of water falling to the porch steps. It takes him a couple of trips between the kitchen and the rest of the house to realize that what’s falling outside the front window is far heavier than the rain on his other two sides of the complex. Pulling on a jacket and braving the waterfall to reach the bottom of the stairs, he spies a gutter full to capacity with wet leaves, spilling what it can over the rim. Odd that there would already be so many in the summer.

Or perhaps not so odd. Did Stephen say anything about gutter cleaning?

Maybe. Wash’s guess is as good as anyone else’s; physically present he was for their meetings, mentally present? Not so much.

Well, there is someone he can ask now. Sarge has been living there for at least a few months already. He should have had an idea of what maintenance comes with the place.

At Wash’s knock, Sarge’s door swings open a few inches before stopping short, no fewer than three security chains holding it in place. He squints out the gap before recognizing Wash, his expression shifting to one...slightly less suspicious. “Washington.”

“Uh, hi.” Wash feels out of practice in conversations with normal people, let alone a man who’s clearly a fair stretch beyond that. “The, uh, gutter’s overflowing, and I was wondering if they hire someone to do cleanings here?”

“Nope, that’s on us.”

Joy. At least it isn’t a one-person building. “Okay. Do you want to come out now to do it, or we can--”

“No can do,” Sarge interrupts, face impassive. “I don’t do heights.” And he promptly slams the door.

After giving it a long, incredulous stare, Wash walks back to his own side. He has some sense that even if he were to knock again and Sarge actually opened the door, the conversation wouldn’t get much further.

He climbs out an upstairs window onto the porch’s overhang with his makeshift gutter cleaner, a broom. The thought crosses his mind to leave Sarge’s half of the gutter untouched; it would probably still drain from Wash’s pipe, but he would get his point made either way. In the end, however, he brushes the rest of the leaves off the side of the porch. May as well get it while he’s up there instead of being a (well-deserved) asshole; there’s already one frustrating neighbor in the complex, there doesn’t need to be two.

---

Routines are good. Routines are normal. Routines make Wash feel efficient with his time, as opposed to aimless with the amount of it he just can’t fill.

And routines mean that nothing is wrong, that everything can be expected because it is exactly the same as it has been. Wash of course would never lean on that, never let his guard slip, but it’s comforting all the same.

Get up at 6 (though waking up often happens earlier, not by his choice). Out of the shower by 6:30. Coffee on the porch by 7, before the summer heat bears down. Like clockwork. He’s maintained it for two weeks in the duplex now.

Except today, when Wash steps out with his drink, something is wrong. He senses, before he really sees, the moving shape out of the corner of his eye, and jerks his hand back, instinct ready to transform his mug of burning hot coffee into a weapon.

He pauses, thankfully, when the figure is fully in his line of sight; Sarge, sitting on a kitchen chair he must have dragged out, holding his own coffee mug. Apparently unaware of his near brush with second-degree burns, or at least ignoring it, he offers a gruff “morning, Washington,” as a casual greeting.

Wash mentally counts back from 5, straightening up as his heartbeat slows to somewhere within the range of normal. “...Hey, Sarge,” he finally replies, tone clearly conveying his confusion. “...What are you doing out here?”

“A man can’t drink coffee on his own front stoop?” Sarge squints at him, challenging.

Not when you haven’t done it any time before now. “I mean-- I-- Nevermind.” Wash doesn’t need the routine. Sarge doesn’t need to drink his coffee there either, but Wash can already guess who would more easily fold.

With a small “hmph”, Sarge nods, seemingly victorious in whatever nonsense he thought was going on. He takes a sip of his coffee, and after another moment of staring, Wash leans his elbows on the railing and imitates the action.

The two remain there, silently drinking and watching the road, until Sarge’s cup finally drains. He promptly stands up, nodding at Wash when the movement draws his eye, and returns to his apartment.

Wash doesn’t know what to make of it. Sure, not everyone lives on a schedule, but why change it up this particular day? There’s nothing special about it. It’s no cooler or hotter than usual. No more or less sunny.

There’s no special reason he shouldn’t, either, he reminds himself. But the thought had still gnawed at him every time Sarge shifted and Wash had to work not to twitch.

It makes more sense--not much, but more--when the next morning, Sarge is back out there again.

---

A little over a week more, and Wash has made tenuous peace with Sarge’s now daily presence during his morning coffee. They greet each other, and say goodbye when one or the other clears out, but not a whole lot is said in between. It would almost be easy to ignore him there once they’re settled in...if Wash isn’t growing more curious about Sarge, against his better judgement.

He knows, logically, it’s the water in the desert phenomenon; beyond the cashiers who ring him up for his once-weekly grocery trips, he hasn’t had much engagement with people over the past month. While that’s by his preference, it still isn’t what he was previously used to, sleeping in tents or on floors packed with five or six other people he had been training with or fighting beside daily for years. However much of a closed door he is, Sarge is still a little bit of necessary human interaction.

Today is sticky-hot, even so early in the morning, and Sarge emerges after Wash, sporting a red tank top and a worn pair of cargo shorts.

“Washington.”

“Sarge.”

With formalities out of the way, Sarge settles into his chair. Wash intends to turn toward the road, hazy as the dew burns off the asphalt, but before he can something catches his eye. Though there is a rough-hewn scar on Sarge’s nearest shoulder, Wash’s eyes are drawn to a splash of color above it. Tattoos of military origin are typically recognizable in style alone, but this one in particular is startlingly familiar, with its similarity to the Recon Jack skull tattooed on Wash’s chest.

They aren’t a match, though, and Wash’s question is answered when he reads the banner script beneath it: ‘USAF Combat Control’.

“You were special ops,” Wash realizes aloud. He isn’t familiar with many standard military units outside of the Marines, but he has at least a passing knowledge of the high-level special operations forces he could have come across on collaborative assignments. The Air Force’s Combat Control Teams, trained on combat support and communication behind enemy lines, are one of them.

Sarge’s brow furrows at the sudden break in the silence, before he follows Wash’s line of sight to the tattoo. He huffs, as though disgruntled that Wash has somehow noticed something completely out in the open. “You’re damn right I am.”

The skull is surrounded by two curling wings, with a parachute in the backdrop. I don’t do heights. So either he had been lying to get Wash to clean the gutters alone...or there’s something significant there.

Not that it’s exactly his business. He plays it safe, asking, “how many jumps?”

“More than you.”

Likely true. Definitely frustrating in its evasiveness. “I don’t recall mentioning what I did.”

“And I don’t recall making a guess! My answer still stands.” But it doesn’t take long for Sarge to start poking for more info. Perhaps Wash hasn’t been the only one curious. “You don’t get scars that big by paper pushing. Unless they’ve started handing out medals for paper cuts.”

Maybe Wash being straightforward in a gesture of goodwill will encourage it in his cagey neighbor. Besides, it’s not like he feels any inclination to hide the info Sarge is after. It’s his past, for better or for worse. “Marines. Force recon.”

Sarge grunts in reply, but his begrudging recognition seeps through. Wash had trained in spec ops as well, with an emphasis on reconnaissance, gathering intel deep within enemy territory. Though Sarge had probably parachuted more, as he’d said, it would have been for his role’s focus and his age. Wash has his own areas of greater experience he could claim. They’re on fairly equal footing, as far as things go.

“Awful young to be out of the game now, after all that training,” Sarge comments, another probe. Wash turns his attention to his coffee, now growing lukewarm; while he appreciates that he’s gotten Sarge talking, that isn’t first full-length conversation material by a longshot.

“You aren’t that old, yourself,” he finally evades.

Sarge barks a laugh at that, but apparently his own discharge isn’t first conversation material either, because he drains the last of his coffee and waves Wash goodbye for the day.

A/N:  Sarge's shoulder tattoo: (x)

Wash’s shoulder tattoo: (x)

#rvb #red vs blue #wttrw #welcome to the real world

[vanilla107]

Masterpiece (Part 13)

Hey everyone!

(Yes I am alive!) I know it's been ages since I've written but I'm so happy to finally post this chapter! University has been a huge change and in all honestly, I felt awful. I didn't feel like writing because I was drowning in work and the last thing I wanted to do was post a chapter I wasn't happy with. So here it is! FINALLY!

I hope you all like this one! Reblogs and comments make me happy! Now, I haven't been active on Tumblr since I'm so busy but to the people who've supported my writing so far, you guys are the best and the reason I still write this with passion.

Thank you always <3 vanilla107 xoxo

p.s. Please read this on AO3. There’s something wrong with my links on my Fanfic Masterlist (this also isn’t the first time to happen so tumblr wtf) so if you’re new to the story PLEASE RATHER READ IT ON A03. 

Fanfic Masterlist

Read on AO3

Chloe stood outside Nathanaël’s apartment and for the first time, was hesitant to go in. His flirty responses made her wonder if things were going to be awkward between them or if he was just going to act normal. Her phone rang and it was another message from Nathanaël.

Nathanaël @ 6:00

The door is unlocked.

When she was still invited to prestigious events because she was the mayor’s daughter, there were always guys flirting with her and she managed to handle that, but Nathanaël...she didn’t know if she could manage him. He was so unpredictable.

He could be the most gentle sweetheart, teaching her how to cook and making her laugh to his sudden anger showing with gritted teeth when he found out about Mr Shelley to his flirty winks, soft forehead kisses and taking her out to nice places to eat.

Chloe had butterflies and they were making her jittery with nerves. Ugh, just open the door! What’s the worst that could happen? she thought.

Chloe gripped the door knob and walked into the clean apartment. A heavenly smell hit her senses and she looked to the kitchen where a pot was simmering on the stove. Suddenly, there was a loud bang and she jumped in surprise when she was enveloped by darkness.

Ugh! Power outage? Now? Chloe groaned inwardly and groped in the darkness trying to find a stable surface to support herself on. She managed to find her way to the couch but crashed into a figure and the figure let out a cry of pain as they landed on the floor. Chloe recognised the tone and gasped.

“Nathanael! I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you!” Chloe whispered trying to grab his hand to help him up.

“It’s okay. You’ve done worse like kick me out of my own bed,” she heard him and she could feel it in her bones that he was smirking.

“Don’t make me hurt you even more,” she threatened but was grateful that he couldn’t see her blush from how she had been cuddled him just a few days ago.

“Don’t you have a backup generator?” Chloe asked as she whipped out her phone and was temporarily blinded by the light emitting from it.

“Ow, shit! That’s bright!” she swore and Nathanael took her phone.

She noticed he was still wearing his painting outfit and he hadn’t removed the streak of blue paint across his cheek. He smelt of turpentine and acrylic paint and for some reason, made Chloe feel comforted.

“No, I don’t have one and don’t look at your phone in darkness like this, you’ll damage your eyes. Looks like I’ll have to get the candles. You okay with that?” he asked, the blue light from her phone making his features sharper.

Chloe’s mind was a buzz.

Candles.

Candles meant romantic atmosphere. Romantic atmosphere meant lingering gazes and subtle touches. That meant heartbeats speeding up and that meant feeling the person’s body heat as you leaned in closer to-

“Earth to Chloe?”

She snapped out of her daydream and nodded quickly as he went to the cupboard. The door creaked open as he got a few candles and a lighter. More lightning struck across the sky, making Chloe jump in surprise.

“Yeah, candles. Candles are great. I like them. I mean candles provide light and warmth and we can make roasted marshmallows. There’s also scented candles which are really nice too-”

Chloe realised she was rambling and shut her mouth immediately so that she could stop embarrassing herself. Nathanael moved around her and put the candles on the coffee table and lit each one, slowly filling the room with a dim golden glow.

“So, you hungry? I made spaghetti.”

Chloe was panicking again. First the candles now the damn spaghetti? Was this some sort of human version of Lady and the Tramp? Candles and spaghetti. All they needed was some stupid romantic music and-

“Chloe, you want some music in the background? I know that Nino still has some of Adrien’s piano pieces on his Youtube channel-”

Chloe was ready to explode because she knew that Adrien was a hopeless romantic which meant the all of his piano pieces were….romantic.

Play it cool Chloe!

“That’s fine, I didn’t know that you listened to Adrien’s pieces,” Chloe murmured as she watched him set up his phone and soft, delicate piano piece began to hum through the apartment.

“I was jealous that he could play to be honest. He always seemed so perfect but after I found out about his father...that definitely changed my mind,” Nathanaël sighed as he walked to the stove and opened the pot.

Chloe could hear the squelch of the spaghetti being spooned into the bowls.

Adrien had told Nathanaël about his dad?

“What did he tell you?” she asked curiously. Chloe knew everything about Adrien’s personal life because they had spent so much time together as babies. She had been there for his tears, his smiles and when it felt like the world was against her, he was there for her.

She would be lying if she said she didn’t miss him. He was the first person who had tried to help her once she was kicked out of the hotel but she had been too prideful and refused his help. He had come to visit her for days afterwards, trying to help her but she was too upset to see him. After a while, he stopped visiting and even though she wasn’t surprised that he stopped, she was still lonely and after a week,she was craving his friendship but she had no idea how to approach him.

“He told me how his dad had him on lock down most of his life. How he limited his time with his friends. How he had abandoned him when his mother left...everything.”

Chloe was silent and nodded as Nathanaël passed her the bowl and they sat down on the couch. She took a forkful of the spaghetti and began to eat. Between forkfuls of the pasta she pondered on everything that Nathanaël had told her.

“So, what were you up to today?” Nathanaël asked, eyeing her with a smile. “You were quite secretive.”

Chloe refused to make eye contact with him. “Just some errands. Nothing huge.” Chloe was still embarrassed about what Juleka and Rose had said that day. She was emotionally exhausted and did not need to talk to a smirking Nathanaël about it either.

“Enough about me,” Chloe said as she finished her food and looked over to the artist, “You’ve been painting. Any luck?”

Nathanaël hummed and smiled. “It’s been easier to paint lately. It helps since I only have one more painting to do before the gallery. Speaking of gallery...have you thought about coming to the gallery to patch things up with Marinette, Alya, Nino and Adrien?”

Chloe’s stomach flipped and she felt sick. She took a deep breath and Nathanaël looked at her anxiously.

“I’m sorry- I didn’t mean to make you worry. I won’t bring it up-”

Nathanaël felt a warm finger against his lips, silencing him.

“I’ll go.”

He stared and the blonde who looked a little pale but she gave him a small smile.

“I’ll go to the gallery, Nathanaël.”

“Are you sure? You don’t look to good-”

“Don’t make me change my mind, Kurtzberg! This is a ‘in the spur of the moment’ decision and even though I really really don’t want to see Marinette, Adrien, Nino or Alya at all right now...I’d do it to make you happy,” she mumbled the last part quietly.

Nathanaël was stunned. When did Chloe become so….selfless?

He reached for her hand and squeezed it softly. “Thank you Chloe...you have no idea how much that means to me.”

Chloe swallowed the ball of nervousness in her throat and gave him a huff. “Don’t count on me being there though! I’m saying this now because I want you to be happy but I might fall ill with the flu or something!” she said as she crossed her arms and stuck her nose in the air.

Nevermind…she’s still the same, he thought with a roll of his eyes before he heard a small laugh from the blonde.

“Wow, your face was priceless!” Chloe giggled as she tried to collect herself. She turned back to him with a serious look on her face and gave him a small smile.

“But seriously Nathanaël, it’s the least I can do. You’ve helped me so much already I...I feel like I’m just trying to hide from them all the time. At least you’ll be there...” Chloe trailed off and only seemed to notice now how blue Nathanaël’s eyes were in the candlelight. The blue almost matched the paint on his cheek, that was beginning to crack, and Chloe found her hand cupping the artist’s cheek and gently rubbing the paint flecks away with her thumb.

“Sorry...it was distracting me.” Chloe said as she noticed the red skin under the paint.

Adrien’s piano piece was making it extremely difficult to concentrate and Chloe prayed that she wasn’t going red. Their faces were centimeters away from each other and Chloe swallowed uneasily.

“Nathanaël...I went to apologise to everyone I had hurt during high school today… that’s what I was doing the whole day.” she mumbled and she saw his give the smallest of smiles.

“I know. Rose told me.”

Chloe’s jaw dropped and she groaned as she let herself fall onto the couch, the closeness between her and Nathanaël broken.

“Rose and Juleka need to mind their own business! And François! That little snake spread rumours!” Chloe suddenly yelled and she covered her mouth in embarrassment.

Nathanaël raised an eyebrow in interest and put his bowl down on the coffee table and rested his elbow on the couch so that his whole body faced her.

“What rumours?” he asked and Chloe swore inwardly. There really wasn’t any use in lying to him.

“François saw me leaving your apartment a few days ago and it looks like we have a relationship going on according to some outsiders,” she said awkwardly. Nathanaël stared at her and let out a warm laugh.

“Well, we sorta do, since we’re fake dating for the sake of tricking your asshole of a boss.” He cleared his throat and look to his fridge. “Dessert okay now? I have strawberries.”

Chloe nodded enthusiastically and finished her last mouthful of food and set her plate down. Nathanaël got up from the couch and fetched the strawberries from the fridge before plopping himself back down next to her.

“It’s just that I don’t want the paparazzi finding out and suddenly hounding you because you’re ‘dating’ the ex-mayor’s daughter. I’d hate for your reputation to be ruined.”

“Why would my reputation be ruined? You’ve done nothing wrong.”

“Nathanaël, you’re talking to the girl who made a whole lot of people’s lives miserable and even though I’ve apologised to the main people I bullied, there are still people who think I’m a bad person. My new co-worker, Camila, had friends at our school and she knew of how awful of a person I was! Word gets out and I was a pretty terrible person for the past few years. I can’t suddenly change years worth of tabloids overnight.” Chloe said bitterly.

Nathanaël looked at her sadly. He knew how mean the tabloids had been. They had negative views on Chloe while she was the mayor’s daughter but they still kept it tame so that her dad wouldn’t sue them. The second her dad wasn’t mayor anymore, they were ruthless. They bought up every negative aspect of her and now Nathanaël saw how badly Chloe had been affected.

She must’ve felt that the world was against her, he thought as he gazed at the girl who looked so small next to him.

He de-stemmed the strawberries in silence and they began to eat. Chloe enjoyed the sensation of the sweet strawberry juice in her mouth after the spaghetti they had eaten.

“There’s always benefits with fake dating but I do need to get a real job soon. Some job that I can depend on and not have to kiss the ground Mr Shelley walks on,” Chloe said, trying to change the subject and closed her eyes, enjoying the warmth in the apartment. The strawberry dangled in her hand as she slowly slipped into sleep.

*********************************************************

Chloe woke up with a start and saw that Nathanaël had showered since he was now wearing his pajamas. The candles were still lit but all the melted wax indicated how long they had been burning. The electricity was still out and it took some time for Chloe’s eyes to adjust to the darkness.

“Hey sleeping beauty. Have a good sleep?” he teased and she weakly threw a pillow to his feet.

“How long was I asleep? And yes, it was a fairly good sleep.” she answered and reached for her phone.

Her hair felt like a mess and she was sure that she had drool on the one side of her mouth. She wiped it away and looked at Nathanaël groggily.

“About fifteen minutes. Why?”

Chloe yawned and checked her phone. She had to head back to her apartment. Every part of her wanted to stay another night with Nathanaël but...she was scared. She knew that she was slowly starting to like him more and more after each day and she wasn’t the person to hide her feelings but it all still felt strange. 

She went from being his tormentor in high school to someone who needed his help and now she was falling for him. It was a sick love story and no matter how much Nathanaël claimed that she helped him kick start his career, it felt awful to be the reason of such a painting filled with rage. She needed to be a better friend and not try to think of their relationship in a romantic sense.

Nathanaël changed a lot from high school.

He wasn’t this lanky, awkward guy anymore. He was confident, successful and loved what he was doing with his life. And they had only become friends a few days ago, the last thing on her mind should be a relationship with him. And they had only really properly gotten to know each other for the past five days. How could she suddenly have a massive crush on him? For all she knew he could just see her as a friend.

Yeah, right! A friend who kisses you on the forehead before going to sleep, makes you food, lets you sleep in his bed and getting you off from work. Yeah a real friend Chloe!

Chloe rolled her eyes at her inner thoughts and shook her head. She was Chloe Bourgeois and she had to go to work the next morning.

“You need to leave?” Nathanaël asked in surprise and she nodded as she got up from the couch and stretched, the candles basking her in a golden glow.

“It’s been a hella long day and I still have work tomorrow. Gotta go clean those floors early remember? Oh and how did you shower in the dark?”

“I have extra candles. I just lit those.”

Was it her imagination or he looked a little sad?

“Nathanaël...are you sad that I have to leave?” she asked and she saw him turn towards her, his face calm.

“Well, I did forget that you have a strict working schedule sometimes and as your ‘fake boyfriend’ I do worry about you being in the same working environment as that asshole, Mr Shelley and his girlfriend,” Nathanaël said smoothly but Chloe saw the tips of his ears turn pink.

“Nathanaël, you are a good liar but terrible at hiding it,” she muttered with her heart beating a little faster. She walked to his door and put her hand on the door handle. 

Be a friend, Chloe. Just a friend.

“Thanks for dinner, Nath. Next time you should come over and we can have some cake. Don’t ask me where I’ll get the cake from but I assure you that it’s good!”

She didn’t expect the hug but she wasn’t complaining.

He felt so warm and safe and oh, how she loved how much he smelt like the ocean. She immediately responded, turning to face him and wrapping her hands around his waist and resting her head on his chest.

“Thank you Chloe. For giving my friends a chance even though you must be hurting a little inside. I’ll try and make it as smooth as possible with them. I promise.”

Chloe nodded and tried to untie the knot in her stomach when he mentioned ‘friends’. Their hug lasted way too long for it to be a ‘just friends’ hug but Chloe didn’t want it to end. Suddenly, the lights flickered back on and Chloe rolled her eyes.

“Wow, just as I leave the electricity decides to switch back on.”

Nathanaël eventually let her go and opened the door.

“Goodnight Chloe. Sweet dreams,” he said softly.

“Goodnight Nathanaël. Sleep well.”

Suddenly, he leaned in and kissed her forehead lightly before giving her a smile and closing his door. Chloe’s heart was beating so hard she thought someone was going to hear it. She walked to her apartment quickly and fell onto her bed.

“He kissed me. On the forehead.”

The only time Chloe had ever received a kiss from Nathanaël was when he was faking to be her boyfriend.

He wasn't faking now was he? There was no reason to. There wasn’t anyone to fool. So was he trying to mess with me? No, that wouldn’t make sense. He’d never tease me like that.

Chloe sighed and closed her eyes and hoped that sleeping would help her ease her thoughts until tomorrow.

#miraculous ladybug #ml fanfiction #chloe x nathaniel #nathchlo #chlonath #adrienette #djwifi #jojowrites #vanilla107writes #chloe bourgeois #nathaniel kurtzberg

[laurapausinifinland]

Anni miei

I still carry a very distinctive memory of something that happened to me 23 years ago as a 7-year-old. It was one of my daily routines with my mom, watching american soap opera ”Bold and the Beautiful” when during one of the commercial breaks there was Laura with the album ”Laura” and ”Gente”, ”Strani Amori” or something like that. I just remember the voice, the sweet melody and the pretty girl sitting on a beige cushion. And how it all hit me. It was love at first listen, at first look or however you wanna think of it...anyhow the feeling hasn’t faded in 23 years.

Then, ”Laura” album and especially the song ”Amori Infiniti” were my ultimate favourites and in fact for many years to come after that. Never getting old though how much time would go by. The melodies, the voice and lyrics I’d always go back to. The tunes of my childhood. I literally listened the same album for another seven years because I was totally unaware of any other LP albums being released until it was time for another tv-commercial this time about ”Tra Te e Il Mare”. Needless to say how I adored to hear again the familiar voice and sounds that had gone stronger during the years. Eagerly I translated the lyrics to Finnish with a dictionary in my hand and zero Italian classes in my head.

Tra Te e il mare, 2000

The following ”The Best of: E Ritorno da Te” was basically a brand new album for me! While waiting for her English album to be published I collected slowly her albums along the years.. some were harder to find in Finland than others. But I was learning her story. With her singing I also discovered the beauty of Spanish and Italian languages which I began later to study. With ”From the Inside” I remember the fresh sound brought by the language change. I loved it how I didn’t need a dictionary anymore to understand what she was singing about! And even though she hadn’t written any of the songs on the album I still recognized her. Her image had changed but it was still her. Even today I’m still the most saddest about this album not being as successful as it should have deserved to be. But even without the chart success she is equally amazing singer and performer also in English.. or in any language she chooses to sing. Americas, UK, the entire English speaking market – you have no idea what you’re missing.

”Resta in Ascolto” was the first album I remember to have really been waiting for. I remember the excitement of hearing the first 30 sec. of the title song and finally seeing the music video for the first single. How carefully I listened the album and its every note when I finally had it in my hands. I loved it already then but who knew how much more these songs would mean to me during the years to come. These were the days when I started to think about my own LP page for the first time. But with a lack of technical skills and social media the idea stayed as just as an idea.

Come se non fosse stato mai amore, 2004

In 2006 Laura was a Grammy and a Latin Grammy winner. I knew these awards meant so much more on national level in Italy but my joy and pride were dedicated only for her as a person and as an artist who had created something amazing and really deserved the credit, on an international level for that. On ”Io Canto” I was one of those who had never been exposed the poetry and beauty of the music Laura had chosen on the album. It was educating, refreshing and eyes opening. Not only in Laura’s musical life but also in Italian music in general. She sounds so amazing when she gives in to someone else’s writing. There’s something very fragile and emotional compared to when she sings her own pieces. After being a fan of 12 years I finally joined to the official fan club.

Before 2007 San Siro Stadium did not say much to me, especially since I don’t watch football. At all. I did not understand the fuss around the concert but when the DVD/CD came out… from the first notes on – I knew. I think there will not be a concert or a live release that could top San Siro 2007. Even today I cannot watch it without crying at the end. The emotion tops over everything even through tv screen - nevermind that your favourite song isn’t included or the camera crew was kind of lost for the entire evening.. the faults don’t count. It would also be the one (out of the live releases) I’d recommend to someone who’s never seen or heard of Laura before. All the essential parts are there.

Una storia che vale - live 2007

Personally ”Primavera in Anticipo” predicted what was coming to me in my personal life. During these years Laura visited Finland for several times, doing concerts and promo visits but I had not gone to any of them. Because I was shy, because I was young and did not know anyone else who’d like her music too. I literally kept her in a closet and only a few people knew about my passion for her. I was different than the other teens and I avoided bumping into opposite opinions that I didn’t wanna hear. So I kept all of this to myself.

But on May 20th in 2009, it was Wednesday. The day had come when I would see her live for the very first time in my life. 15 years after falling in love with her on the album ”Laura”. I did not take a single photograph nor video. I couldn’t. Too distracting. I was just 100% on concentrated staring at her, listening to her, memorizing every sound, gesture and move she made. I was blown away by her presence and voice. Unable to believe that I was actually breathing the same air with her and sitting only a few meters away from her. I cried during the first songs. I sang with her every note until the end but I can only remember a handful of moments during the concert lasting over two hours. The most beautiful ones of my life which I thought for a long time would never happen. But it did happen. And again. On October 1st, seven years ago I traveled to Rome, Italy to attend the official Fan Club Party. The one and only I’ve ever been to. Another unique experience. I met so many people I had met online, on the FC forum who’d become my friends in real life too without never meeting them face to face. Some I haven’t met again since but the feeling of friendship is still very much alive.  

In 2011 I was in a crossroads and going through a difficult stage in my life and so I was not ready for ”Inedito”’s optimism and maturenes. It took me two years to understand the beauty of this album and to feel the words as my own. And how important it was to have these songs by my side when I was going through the things I did. Today it remains one of the best works of Laura and I find it criminal that it wasn’t at least nominated for Latin Grammy as its three predecessors.  

Mi tengo, 2011. 

As what it comes to her 20th anniversary release ”Greatest Hits” I couldn’t have imagined it to be done in any better way. It was so respectful for the old, but still with a modern touch adding new depth to the familiar songs and including even some of her less known work but which have shaped her career. It was such a perfect release! In 2014 I had my own 20th anniversary with her.

Between 2011-2014 I met Laura three times briefly, in Spain, UK and Canada. No words can describe these encounters but I gotta try at least. To meet the woman who’s voice has been speaking to me for 20 years. Whose words, emotions, melodies and music have been accompaning me for every step of the way. Hers as much as mine. Songs that were maybe a bit too adult for a 7-year-old to understand I listen today with a different perspective and wisdom.

In 2014 I did what I’ve always wanted to do: created my own LP page. Even though it’s a FB one but at least it’s technically do-able for me and maybe even better way to reach people in these days than a traditional website. I wanted and still want to create a place for Finnish and international LP fans around the world where to go crazy about the most and least favorite LP songs, facts, albums, lyrics, stories, videos, translations, photos etc. Besides of FB I have a similar Tumblr page also. On Youtube and Spotify I love to create different playlists. I put a lot of effort, time and thought on my posts and I appreciate every like and comment people give even though without single reaction I do create these posts mainly for my own pleasure. My site isn’t one of those fastest growing like the Spanish/Italian speaking ones on FB but I’m proud of every 1015 (I have at the moment) friends I have.

”Simili” did ”Inedito” to me. In 2015, again I was in a difficult spot in my life. Even though I didn’t exactly feel simili I still realized its greatness. The diversity between musical genres. Richness in lyrics, using talented new songwriters bringing a fresh sound. The songs grew in me for much after its release. And like ”Inedito” I hold it one of the or maybe the THE deepest and most mature LP album so far.

As the 3-year-anniversary of my FBpage  I wanted to share my childhood favourite ”Amori Infiniti” with you. For being a LP fan for the most of my life, we’ve come such a long way together. Because that’s where it all began and how this site is just a continuing piece in my LP story as in my personal life. Back in 1994 there was only ”Laura” album and this song topping everything else but today after all the years, experiences, albums and songs I couldn’t name my favorite LP album even if I wanted to. Too many great ones. Fitting into different moments in life and unable being compared against each other.

However ”Laura” stays classic. Classic 90’s. Classic Laura. So I do hope you enjoy this rarity. With me. Now and in the future. Thank you for reading.

Amori infiniti, 1994

#laurapausini #my story #3years #fan #italian music #popmusic #ballad #facebook #fanpage

[sortyourlifeoutmate]

@glorious74​ put up a thing and I thought what better way to spend the ailing hours of my Monday evening then by writing about myself? It's been a slow day.

Fun Basics

Preferred writing type: Short stories. Occasional, fumbling efforts at anything longer. Wait. Did you mean for me or for the people I like to read? What? Nevermind.

Favourite genre(s) to write: Uh, sci-fi I guess? I really don't know. Hey! Pro-tip for success: KNOW YOUR GENRE!

Favourite genre(s) to read: Sci-fi, fantasy, uh, non-fiction. Kinda depends more on style than anything else...

Favourite standalone book(s): Standalone book? You mean, like, a book that had no sequel? Oh, wasn't part of a series, I getcha. Uh. I'd say Dirk Gentley but that got a sequel so that doesn't really count, sadly.

Favourite Book Series: Oh I couldn't possibly say! So many to choose from! What mood am I in? Discworld? Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy? Eisenhorn trilogy? Dresden Files? I CANNOT PICK! Hitchhikers probably influenced me most, though.

Favourite Movie(s): Brazil

Favourite TV show(s): I don't, uh, really watch much television. I tend to drift off and lose interest...Generation Kill was good! And, uh, super-old now.

Other Fandoms You’re interested in: The hell is a fandom? I like stuff, is that what this is? I like lots of stuff. Like, too many stuffs to really list them. Am I involved in talking to any other people who like the same stuff as me? No. Because I'm not a people person. In case you hadn't noticed!

Zodiac sign: Uh, Scorpio? I don't know.

MBTI Type: I've never done one of these tests and so I have no idea. Whichever one is the type of person you (yes, you) would least like to talk to. That's me.

Introvert of Extrovert: Introvert. If I had to pick. I'm mostly just an arsehole.

Favourite Season: Winter. I can wear my coat.

Spirit animal: I don't have a spirit? Or an animal? I'm a husk of a man.

Hobbies/interests other than writing: Watchin' things, playin' things, learnin' about religion and other things, militaria, staring into space and waiting for death. The usual, you know?

Cat person, dog person, or both?: I've only ever owned cats but dogs are lovely and I love to look at 'em

Writing Style Nitty-Gritty

Number/Names of WIPs: Oh, lots! I am forever starting things and not finishing them. Some more started than others! We got, uh, Cold Hard Hugs, Jessica Dresses Like a Dragon, Proper Schooling, Snowblind (my NaNo I need to finish and re-write), the re-write I wanna do of that, uh, other thing I did – Run For It, that was it. Oh Lord, many other things. More short stories than I know what to do with. SO MANY THINGS. And they're all hot garbage.

Favourite Book about writing: Uh. How Not to Write a Novel was funny, but didn't really tell me anything I didn't already know. Ya know?

Planner, panster, or plantser: Plah-nihng? What is this word? It sounds scary to me. For real though, I throw a bunch of ideas onto a blank sheet and write out whichever chunks I had in my head, lose momentum, get bored and go somewhere else. Hmm, can't think why I've never finished anything of any substantial length!

Favorite Outlining method: Shoving things into the windy and neglected corners of my skull and hoping they stay in the correct order.

Types of blogs you followed for reference: What?

Reference topics you would like blog suggestions for: What again?

Types of blogs you followed for inspiration: Inspiration is not something I typically experience. Like excitement. I think that part of me died.

Do you write on a schedule or sporadically?: In much the same way that a constant dribble of water will wear away a rock given enough time, my constant trickle of words here and there will wear away...something, eventually. My life, probably. I write as a reflex, when I'm not wasting time doing something else.

Any creativity rituals that you use: Is it after midnight? Do I have to wake up for work in a few hours?  Am I exhausted? Then it is time to be seized by an intense desire to write. That's not really a ritual, actually. More of a cruel joke.

Your writing community

Current writing / creative communities you participate in: 'Participate'. Ahem. I'm not really involved in anything. I'm more like the spectre at the feast more than anything else. A hideous, haunting apparation skirting around the edges, tormented and confused. There was a local writing society in my town but they never got back to me. I doubt I'll hear from them again.

Are you part of any critique groups (local or online)?: Nope.

Would you Like to find online critique partners/groups?: People terrify me, I am a shitty font of useful criticism myself so would feel wrong inflicting myself on anyone and more to the point very few people want to read anything I write. It's all for me, Damien! Wait, what, no. That's the Omen. And it's not even right!

Would you like to be a beta-reader if someone needs one?: I've never had it explained to me why these are called 'betas'. Is the author the alpha? I don't get it. Anyway, I refer you to my previous comments about being shit at feedback.

How long have you been on tumblr: I honestly can't remember.

Would you like to be tagged in any writing games / questionnaries?: I won't be.

How do you feel about being messaged and / or tagged to discuss writing?: Again, I won't be. Spectre at the feast, remember? WoOoOoOoOoO!

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[wearesungreenmylove]

Chapter Five - Confessions In The Dark

Word Count: 1448

masterlist // prologue // one // two // three // four // five

Jade’s tumblr is @ahoytrashmouth

also on ao3 and wattpad

Later, I sit on my usual couch, writing an essay on Boggarts for DA, when the couch shifts. I look up to see Lorcan Scamander sitting next to me.

“Hey, Lorcan,” I say, and go back to my paper. In order to dispel a Boggart, I write, You think of happy memories and say the charm Riddikulus.

“Hey…’’ Lorcan says, rubbing his neck. He opens his mouth and shuts it, shaking his head.

After several moments of this, I ask, “What is it?”

“You know what? Nevermind!” He says, turning beet red and running off. I watch him, puzzled.

“What was that all about?” Scorpius asks, sitting next to me. He has a medium-sized bag slung around his shoulders, looking light. I wonder what could be in there.

“No idea,” I say with a shrug.

“Huh.” He said. “Are you finished with homework?”

“Almost,” I say. “I just have to finish this essay.”

“Well, hurry up.” Scorpius grins teasingly. I finish the paper in two minutes flat. Who cares if’ it’s half-finished if it means more time with Scorpius? “Want to go somewhere?” He asks nervously.

“Sure,” I say. “Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.” He replies. He grabs my hand with a smile. “Come with me.”

“Okay,” I say with a smile. He pulls me to my feet and let’s go of my hand with an awkward cough. He leads me through the halls, towards the main entrance, but we are stopped by an all too familiar frame.

“Well, well, well,” Dolohov says. “What have we here?”

“Leave me alone, Dolohov,” I snap.

“It looks like it’s the fish and her tail.” He takes a few steps forward. Dolohov’s eyes are cruel and dark, his hair swirling around his face in a chaotic way as he speaks. “What are you two doing, huh? Probably running off to snog in the forbidden forest!” He laughs, a harsh, grating sound.

“Why do you want to know?” I take a step forward, causing Dolohov to take a hasty step back, almost running into the croon standing behind him. “Are you jealous of the amount of time I spend with Scorpius? I’m sure you’d like it a lot better if I blindly followed you around, right? Just like all of your other ‘friends’,” I say. “Of course, maybe you’d feel better if your parents cared about you.”

Dolohov looks like I’ve just slapped him. “Wha-“

I push past him. “Come on, Scorpius.”

He follows me quickly, not wanting to stick around. “That wasn’t very nice.”

I bite my lip, feeling a stab of guilt. “I know. I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No, it was cool,” Scorpius says with a smile.

I smile shyly back. “Thanks.”

“Hey, I’m supposed to be leading!” He says with a laugh. I slow down, and he leads me out of Hogwarts, across the darkening lawn, and into Hogsmeade.

“Why are we here?” I ask, looking around at the surroundings. The cold September air bites at my hands, and the fact that it’s already dark doesn’t help that fact.. Without responding, Scorpius walks up to the side of a shop and pulls down a ladder from the roof.

“What's going on? What are you doing?” I whisper, staring at him.

“Just… Follow me.” He says with a small smile. He begins to climb up the ladder.

“Are you crazy? Onto the roof?” I demand, crossing my arms.

“Trust me.” Scorpius says, and he looks straight into my eyes. Something I can’t name stirs in me, telling me to listen to him.

“Okay.” I sigh, to both of our surprise. He grins and keeps climbing. I follow him up the ladder, and he turns and pulls me the rest of the way onto the roof. The view is incredible: I can see all the shops, Hogwarts, the mountains surrounding the valley, and Scorpius’s eyes, which are as enchanting as your first time at Hogwarts.

And the sky, oh, the sky, is lit up in beautiful stars.

“It's beautiful,” I breathe, staring into Scorpius’s eyes, and for a moment I’m not sure if I mean the view or him. Scorpius smiles, and looks down at his feet. I look down at my hands and find them still entwined with Scorpius’. I flush and pull my hands away.

...

“Rose?” My heart is pounding in my chest. I can’t seem to bring myself to say it,

“Yeah?” Rose looks over at me, her eyes full of wonder.

“My mother died.” My throat seems to constrict around the words, reducing them to the point that they’re barely audible.

“Sorry?” She asks, tilting her head towards me. “I didn’t hear that.”

My hand dips into the pocket of my robes, and I grasp the ring there. “My mother died,” I repeat. “Oh, Scorpius….” Rose scoots closer to me and grabs my free hand in both of hers, looking into my eyes. “I’m truly sorry.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” I manage to choke out. “You didn’t cast.. The.. curse,” I gasp a little in between the words, fighting back sobs.

Rose’s face twitches, as if she isn’t sure what to say, and settles on a sympathetic look, her thumb travelling in circles on my hand.

I swallow heavily and pull the ring from my pocket. “This is for you.”

“Really?”

“She’d want you to have it.” I place it in Rose’s hands.

Realization dawns on her face, and she quickly tries to hand it back. “I can’t take this,” She says.

I curl her fingers shut around the ring. “She always wanted to meet you.”

Rose swallows and puts it on.”Thank you.”

...

We sit on the roof for what seems like a short while. This illusion is shattered when the sky starts turning pink. The sunrise is glorious, filling the skies with gold and pink, lighting up the bright shops. Scorpius jumps                          up and starts climbing off the roof, but I am paralyzed, staring into the bright sunlight.

“Come on, we have to move!” Scorpius whispers urgently, jerking his head.

“Woah,” I whisper. “This is even better than our roof.’’ Scorpius freezes, a painful look crossing his face for a second before continuing to climb down. I shake my head and close my eyes, and bright spots dance behind my eyelids. When I open them, Scorpius is back by my side. He tugs my arm, looking desperate.

“I’ll leave without you!” He threatens.

“I’m coming!” I say, energized by a sudden realization: It’s light outside. I dart down the ladder after Scorpius. He tugs me after him, towards the Whomping Willow. We sneak around the back and slip in through the great hall. “Crap.” I whisper, flattening myself against the wall and stare at Miss Cod.

Why oh why didn’t I think to bring the cloak?

Scorpius opens his bag quickly and quietly so as to not attract attention from the caretaker and cat currently halfway down the corridor. He lifts the invisibility cloak out of it and wraps it around us. I give him a confused look, how did you get this?  But he places his index finger in front of his mouth, reminding me of what’ll happen if we talk right now.

Mr. Furgle growls at us and sniffs the air.

“What is it, love?’’ Miss Cod says, petting Mr. Furgle’s head. “Is a naughty, naughty child out of bed?” She croons. “Find them, love!” She cackles and sets Mr Furgle on the ground. He immediately tears towards us. “No, love.” Miss Cod sighs. “There’s no one there. You must be hungry, poor kitty.” Mr. Furgle growls at us, and his mouth foams. He gives a final sniff then trots off, disappearing into the shadows with Miss Cod.  

We wait until we can no longer hear their footsteps, then inch along the wall, walking back to the Ravenclaw tower. “When do you go on red and stop on green?’’ The door asks.

“When you’re eating a watermelon!” I whisper hastily, but I can’t help but giggle.

“Very good.” She says, and the door swings open.

I pull off the cloak as we step inside. “How did you get this?” I whisper, yet again, hoping not to wake anyone up.

“You left it in the Room of Requirements last meeting, so I grabbed it today after lunch.” He sighs lightly, but it comes out more like a yawn. In the light starting to pour in through the windows I can see dark circles starting to form underneath his eyes.

“Goodnight, Scorpius.” I wave and start heading towards my dorm room.

“Goodnight, Rosie.” While I stand in shock at the use of my nickname, Scorpius slips away to the boy’s dorms.

as always, comments are appreciated! next chapter might be next friday/saturday-ish?

#s&r #chapter five #scorpius and rose #scorpius malfoy #rose weasley #hp #hp new generation #collab #harry potter #haha! i almost forgot that i know how to use the read more now! #collab w jade #scorose