#i have screamed so fucking loud at least 20 times in the past 40 minutes

[i-eat-lip-gloss]

guys if i don’t make another post after this it means i died of a heart attack

#(btw im playing fnaf 4) #my heart is pounding nonstop and i keep panting and breathing hard so shakily im physically shaking i am petrified #i have screamed so fucking loud at least 20 times in the past 40 minutes #dreamy talks #dreamy's random thoughts #stupid dreamy #my heart is in pain #physically #/srs

[honeydew-mel0n]

Can I request Vergil chaperoning his daughter at her prom dance? Thank you! 🙏🏼

So, remember what I said about writing a semi-soft Dadgil? I got really excited to write Dadgil (that isn't the fucking dadV sequel) and this concept is so funny to me but,,,,,, this was a little difficult. I don't actually know anything about dads, or prom.

But!!!!! Thanks for the request!

Dad!Vergil × Daughter! Reader (chaperoneing her junior/senior prom)

Last Dance of the Night

“Are you sure you can’t do it?”

You whisper into the mouthpiece of the phone, shooting glances up the stairs, being able to catch a glimpse of your father straightening himself up in the hallway mirror. “No can do, I know it’s really important, and I'd love to be there but- Hey!” 

You jolt back at the sound of your brother's voice through the phone, once again looking up the stairs to check if he heard the loud squabbling coming through the phone. He’s frozen in place, trying to assess something. Before pushing back his hair.

“Anyway, look Bug, I can't. I'm busy.” A sigh leaves your lips as your shoulders slump. “You’re useless.” “HEY-” 

You hang up, quickly dialing another number on the rotary. You listen to it dial, half expecting him not to pick up, but it clicks and there's a hefty sigh from the other end. “Devil May Cry.” “Hey, Uncle Dante. I, uh, need your help.” “What happened?”

You tap your foot on the carpet. “Sooooo, prom being tonight, I checked the list of parent chaperones who signed up. And…. Dad's name was there.” There’s silence on the other end for a good minute before a roar of laughter. “Please, you could show up for him, and don’t even have to stay. Sign in, then sneak out the back door. They’ll see that you’ve already signed in and won’t let him in.” 

As the laughter continues on and your hope dies, why did you ever think you could rely on your family? The hair on the back of your neck shoots straight up. Oh no. You slam the phone down and turn on your heel. Trying your best to pull a smile that didn’t show how scared you are. 

“Hey dad.” His face is blank, there’s no sign of anger. “It’s getting late, shouldn’t you be on your way already?” You nod, swallowing hard and trying to find an excuse.

“Just made a quick call to Nero. Big day, he’s really excited for me. I really should get going though…” He just nods, wrapping a lace shawl around your shoulders. You drop the nervous smile and a real one forms, his thumb rubbing the fabric gently. “You look lovely.”

“Thanks Daddy.” You hop onto your tiptoes, and he leans down just slightly. You press a kiss to his cheek. 

You slip out the front door waving a goodbye, knowing full well he was watching you from the window. It didn’t take much power walking to escape his view before ducking into your date's porch. Quickly checking to see if you were followed before you decided to knock. 

Their mom opens the door, a delighted smile splits her face. “Oh my gosh Honey! You look so pretty!” She welcomes you in, taking you to their living room. Quickly hurring off to get her child. Looking over their happy family photos you smile melancholy. 

There are loud footsteps, and your date stops abruptly, jaws going slack. “Wow…”

-

You both wave goodbye to their mom as you walk to the overcrowded gym. The staff stand in a row on each side of the door, screaming and cheering as all of the students make their ways inside. 

You cringe as teachers in their 40’s fake enthusiasm, their only real joy being that most of you will soon either be gone for the summer and the others leaving at the end of the year and be some college professor's problem. Your eyes scan the room before ducking behind a wave of people. “*Babe, what the hell?” “My dad.” 

Their eyes widen as they look through the crowd, finding him quickly before returning their gaze to you. “Why didn’t you tell me before?” your face warms. “I was caught up in the moment!” You two try to walk casually to a table and sit down.

God the decor was bad.

If you’ve ever seen the 70’s version of Carrie, where the prom decor was aggressively cheap and 70’s… That, but worse. The gym still smells like last week's basketball game, and no plug in air freshener is going to erase that. 

Kinda smells like your uncle's shop. 

You both keep your heads down. “What did you tell him?” “Last week I told him that I didn’t have a date, and that I was going with a group of friends because we all couldn’t get dates.” They narrow their eyes. “Babe, why?”

“He pretends he doesn’t but… he worries a whole lot about me. I knew he’d stalk you if I told him the truth. But hey, you aren't a boy, so maybe he won’t react badly.” Their eyes widen and you shiver, it’s that icy stare you know all too well. They swallow, before straightening their collar. “What about our plan to sneak out?” 

You look around at the four different doors. ���We’ll find a way, give it an hour.” 

“I figured out a way to get out, but I do want to dance with you first. I just need to use the bathroom first, wait for me, okay?” you nod and watch as they walk past a crowd of people and seemingly disappear.  

The lights dim and time passes, things eventually become more lax. You wanted to move around to try and get a escape path (and to experience what you can of prom), but your date refuses to get up at all, especially to dance and make something of the time you have.

They clear their throat and start to get up, leaning down and whispering. 

And you wait. 

And wait, and wait. Maybe, maybe they did disappear. Looking over the groups and couples dancing, and those who were still sitting like you, they were nowhere. Not in here at least. You sigh, sinking down in the uncomfortable metal chair. 

More time passes, and nothing. You start to wish you’d just gone with some friends, maybe then you wouldn’t have gotten ditched and actually had a good time. 

The clock ticks on, and it's becoming more obvious that the staff are getting ready to kick everyone out. The D.J. has been playing straight slow songs for the past 20 minutes, and you’ve had to watch couples and friends slow dance together and two people get crowned king and queen.

You tried your best to seem happy, like you were enjoying yourself. 

Pulling out your phone you see a notification from your dates account. They posted 7 minutes ago. It’s a video of them and their friends fucking around outside of a conveniance store in prom suits and dresses. You feel yourself tear up, slouching lower in the chair. The lights and people become blurry, c’mon, you don’t want to cry. 

A hand comes to rest on your shoulder, you look over your shoulder to see your father looking down at you. “Y/n.” “Hey Dad.” You say, no longer having anything to hide. Not that you can hide anything from him for long. 

He takes the seat your date had, lips pressed shut in a permanent scowl, just like normal. It didn’t scare you, that's just him. “It seems your companion abandoned you.” You scoff, pulling up your shawl. “Yeah…” “You’re upset.” “That obvious?” 

You laugh at your own joke. If he’d been your brother, he would’ve laughed too. But he sits there awkwardly, not knowing how to comfort you in this situation. “They couldn’t even give me one dance before they left me either.”

The current song playing stops and you can hear a few people whine at the idea that the next would be the last of the night. 

A hand is extended to you, your fathers, he stands waiting. It's not an option, it's a demand. You take it, getting up and following him.

The song starts and he starts to dance, but you trip over yourself. Stepping on his feet several times. 

“Sorry… I forgot how to dance.”

Both remembering too-small tiaras being shoved in his hair, little feet with sparkly plastic princess slippers on his, and a random song playing in the background. Trying desperately to teach you how to dance after you’d begged him to. 

Forgot.

You watch him smile, just slightly. The darkness giving him the anonymity to do so.

He never did, but you had so much fun. 

“That's fine, just do what you used to.” 

You step onto his feet, making you move the same as him. A question burns under your skin before you chew your lip. “You’re not mad at me?” “For?” “Lying about who I went with.” There’s a low growl like sigh. “We will deal with that later.” 

You nod, not worrying about it now. Resting your head on his chest, closing your eyes, tears streaming down your face now... All of what happened melts away, the safety of your father makes it go away. He always does. 

#devil may cry #devil my cry x reader #vergil sparda x reader #vergil x reader #dadgil #daughter reader #Vergil x daughter reader #prom #vergil sparda #Big brother Nero #Nero is present for like a second #same with dante #requests

[moonflower-31]

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer x Reader

Masterlist 

Part 25 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader 

A/N: So, if you haven’t noticed, I’m gonna do one every other day with this so I don’t get burned out again. Hope that’s constant enough for you! Sorry about my little hiatus but I should be good now! 

Warnings: Talk of murder, PTSD Flashbacks, the usual stuff.  

Also, Feedback is really appreciated :)

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner, @egg-boy03, @helena-way07, @l0ve-0f-my-life, @serendipity-imagines, @kaelyn-lobrutto24, @thatsonezesty13 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of reality - Edgar Allen Poe 

Unfortunately for you, serial killers didn't know how to wait. So not two days after Spencer had finally been able to be home with you were they called on a case. Their first one without you since you were hired. 

It left you with a slight dull feeling in your heart as you sat curled up on the couch reading the same page over and over as you kept losing focus. Morgan had stayed, as Spencer had promised. But he was currently asleep in Spencer's bed. Something about it being softer than his own with Savannah. Whatever that meant. 

You grumbled and closed the book after your fifth attempt at distracting yourself from how lonely you felt. And how the nagging feeling of thinking you're being watched didn't go away, even with Morgan’s less than helpful presence.  

You sighed and put the book down on the coffee table and picked up the remote instead. You flipped through a few channels until you find the news channel was having a 'Breaking News' segment. When the title appeared on the screen you almost screamed. 

19 year old Arthur Grant goes missing from his family's estate, reward not yet posted. 

You widen your eyes, your hands beginning to shake. Why? Why you? Why must you be overloaded with so much grief and trauma? Did some bereavement mailman decide to ditch his route and dump all of the bad stuff on your doorstep? 

You didn't even have tears that came to be shed. You'd cried so much the past week that you had run the banks dry and squeezed more than at least 5 headaches out of you. And each of them having lasted at least 4-5 hours. Sometimes more. 

Instead of your normal first step of denial, or depression in the stages of grief you unfortunately knew too well, you found anger boiling up through your feet, making your toes curl and your fists clench. You were pissed. Everyone around you was suffering because of Peter's self-absorbed, narcissistic, and sociopathic God-Complex. And you were sick of it. 

You didn't care who heard, who came running to see if you were okay. You just couldn't hold back your frustration anymore: you screamed. 

You threw the remote against the couch, still having half the mind to keep from destroying it. It was still Spencer's property. You didn't exactly have the 20-40 bucks to give to replace it. So, precautionary aggression was the best course of action. 

Your hands found your hair and gripped tightly, letting out a frustrated and loud grumble. You could still see his cocky smirk, his evil eyes as they stared at you like you were nothing but a good fuck to him. You could hear his sickening laughter in your ear, and you could hear the rumble of the gravel underneath the tires of his stupid truck. You were almost there, same feelings, same feeling of paranoid, survival instinct came rushing into your decision making controls and overrided them.

You were engulfed in the flashback, seeing him, feeling the cold metal of the cuffs around your wrists as they dug into your skin, the shiver of having your clothes ripped off of you like you were some prize he had won, it was too much. 

You were panting and holding your head, trying to make sense of everything and trying to get a grip on your own reality. You ended up backing up into the dining table and sending things to the floor. This only amped up your paranoid reaction, causing you to be on guard, but thankfully the flashback was able to end. 

Then, some poor soul decided to knock on the door. Your eyes snapped towards the mahogany door and you let out an instinctive growl. You then began stalking towards the door, sneering and baring your teeth. 

As you made your way towards the door, a pair of protective arms wrapped around you, preventing you from opening the door or causing anymore ruckus from your rampage. 

"Woah there feisty, what was all that for? I thought you were seriously in trouble." 

Morgan’s calm but worried voice was like a fire extinguisher to your anger and your guard, calming you down in a matter of minutes. The fire quelled inside of you, being replaced with a lake of sadness and pain. And unfortunately, that meant that instead of anger, well, you had to deal with tears. Which you had recently come to find were annoying as hell. 

"Morgan…" you breathed, letting yourself become almost limp in his arms. You felt the tears building, almost climbing inside your eyes. You couldn't do this. You couldn't face him again. Face these memories. But you were fucking stuck with them. You had no way of forgetting them. Ever. Thanks to your stupid memory. You didn't want it. You wished you had a normal memory, or at the very least an eidetic memory like Spencer's. At least then you could forget some things. But you? No. No the only things you couldn't remember were whether or not your parents ever really nursed you or even held you when you were an infant. Even the things you did remember weren't pleasant. No warm glow, no blanket colors. Just the cold, monotone voice of your father introducing you to your 'future staff'. 

Morgan held you, not asking you any questions. He just let you begin to cry and let out your frustration on him. Your balled up fist gently hit his chest a few times as you wailed and inaudibly tried to explain what you thought had happened. He didn't stop you, just tried to sooth you as the knocking sounded again. 

You froze in Derek's arms, the knocking now being persistent and fear-inducing now that you had your overly cautious mind back. 

"D-derek…" you whispered. Derek shook his head. 

"I'll get it, alright? You stay right here." He says, gesturing for you to stay. He didn't have to tell you twice, you were still hiccuping from your sobs. 

Derek slowly approached the door, looking through the peephole before opening it slowly. "Hey… you should've called first. We might've been able to answer quicker." 

All of your fears and concerns and panic all ceased at the sight of the man, well more of a boy, that stood in the doorway. 

You stood there in disbelief as you called to him, hoping you weren't seeing things. 

"Arthur?" 

○●♡●○ 

Spencer sighed as he was put in charge of the geographical profile yet again. He had a newfound routine in having you help him with it so much so that he found it harder to do his job. 

Not to mention his mind was filled with worry about how you were at home. How your well-being was, if Morgan would be enough company for you when you had the nightmares he knew you had after everything. He'd been the one to comfort you after each and every one in the hospital. He just hoped that Morgan could still comfort you while he was away. 

Not only that, but a certain Real Estate Broker had his mind doing flips and his eyes seeing red whenever he thought of him and what vile thing he could be planning next. Spencer hated being away from you. Especially when everyone knew by now that Peter was a snake and was easily able to slither away. And to sneakily find you as he had done before. Spencer was thankful now that he had asked you to stay with him in his apartment rather than your own. If you were staying in yours, the chances of Peter finding you were 90-100%. And he hated those odds. 

So safe to say, Spencer's mind was at odds with itself. And to top it all off all he could think about was what it would be like to squeeze the trigger and kill Peter himself. For you. That's all he wanted was revenge for you. He'd have to make sure he didn't instigate anything, so that it would be seen as self defense. But he would love to feel the backlash of gunfire if it meant that Peter would be dead. And you would be safe. 

"Hey, any progress on that profile yet?" 

Spencer looked up and saw JJ standing in front of where he stood next to the map, having found himself lost in thought with his fist clenched around the little box of pins in his hand. 

 "Oh, uh… no, not yet. I was just… distracted is all." He admitted, pulling out the box from his hand and pinning the last two locations for the dump sites. 

"From what I can see just from first glance is that the dump sites seem to be within 6 or 7 miles between each other, give-or-take." Spencer expressed, trying to flip on his work brain to no avail. He soon found himself thinking of you before he finished his statement. 

JJ looked at him with a sad smile. "You're worried about her, huh?" 

Spencer was caught off guard by JJ's question, causing him to turn towards her a few seconds later. "Huh? Who?" He asked. 

JJ gave him a slightly teasing look. "You know who. Garcia told us and the rest of the team about your little crush on her. Apparently she overheard you talking to your mom a few weeks ago. Said you loved her." JJ reveals, a gentle and motherly smile on her face. 

Spencer felt a warmth rise to his cheeks, suddenly feeling much warmer in his cardigan than usual. "S-she did?' 

JJ nodded. "Mhm. It's okay, Spence. Besides, I kind of figured after how you carried her back to the ambulance. She was snuggled up on you. And you refused to let her go until you knew for certain that the lead medic had an actual medical license." JJ teased gently. 

Spencer sighed and rubbed his neck, closing the box of pins so as to not spill them all over the carpet. "Is… is it that obvious?" 

JJ nodded again, a slight giggle on her lips. "Am I or am I not a liaison for the BAU?" She asked, obviously giving him a half hard time. "But seriously, I know you're worried about her. We all are. But she's gonna be alright. Morgan’s with her. Even with a busted knee he can wrestle any man to the ground." 

Spencer sighed. JJ was right. The only reason Morgan had been taken by Peter was because he caught him off guard and was shot before he could shoot first. He was more than capable of protecting you. So why did he feel so badly? 

Spencer rubbed his face and put the box down on the map's marker holder. "I know, JJ. I just… I can't help but worry about her. What if she has a nightmare and I'm not able to be there to comfort her? Wh-what if she has a panic attack and I can't get to her cause I'm all the way out here in South Dakota?" He asked, his worries getting the best of him. 

JJ lifted her non-full hand and laid it on Spencer’s shoulder, no matter how much taller he was than her. "Spence. She's going to be okay. We have people watching over your apartment building on Strauss's orders. They're doing it on their overtime. I think she's safe. Even then, you're just a phone call away, right?"

Spencer sighed again, now noticing that JJ carried with her a coffee in her hand that wasn't on his shoulder. JJ laughed. "I'd be wary of the day you don't smell coffee when it's available. You're lucky it's for you." JJ teased, handing the warm cup to him. 

Spencer took it and took a quick sip of the liquid. "Thank you, JJ. Really. I… I really needed this." He says. JJ nods. 

"I figured you did. Now I gotta go address the press. They're gathering like vultures out there. So I gotta be their food source." She jokes. Spencer laughed and nodded. 

"Yeah… actually, most vultures tend to go for larger prey than the usual roadkill, as that is more sustenance for them-" Spencer began to ramble. JJ laughs as he caught himself. 

"Yeah, just like every animal it seems." She answers before he leaves the room, opening the door wider as Garcia bursts into the room with her laptop. 

"Reid! Reid I think I might've gotten word about Peter!" 

○●♡●○ 

"Arthur?" 

Your brother chuckles slightly and rubs the back of his neck. "Surprise? Please don't tell me you've watched the news. You know how dramatic mother is. I told her I was going to come visit you and-" 

He didn't get to finish his sentence  as you very quickly engulfed him in a hug. You felt short, as he had grown much taller than you. But you didn't care. He was still your little brother. And you loved him. 

"Y-you're okay… you...you've grown so much…" you begin, looking up at him as you pull away. Arthur's arms had very quickly reciprocated your hug, enjoying the first bit of contact he has had with you since you left. 

"Yeah, apparently somewhere in my genes there's supposed to be another inch or two. But I think I'm done." He laughs, laying a hand on your head. You smile at him, your panic completely gone at this point. 

Derek raised an eyebrow and crossed his arms from where he stood. "(Y/N), you wanna tell me who this is?" He asks. 

You look over at Morgan and laugh softly, Arthur having given Morgan his most awkward expression. He really hadn't changed much. 

"Derek, this is my younger brother, Arthur Grant." You introduced. Then you turned to Arthur. "Artie, this is SSA Derek Morgan. He… He was the agent P-Peter captured alongside me." 

Arthur widened his eyes and held out his hand to Derek as he gulped. "N-nice to meet you. T-thank you for protecting her. She's really all I've got." He says, rubbing his neck. 

Derek smiled and gave Arthur a firm handshake in return. "It was my honor, Arthur. I'm glad she's got some real family left. Not that her work family isn't good." He jokes, nudging your arm. You rolled your eyes and smiled to yourself. 

"Hey, as a wise man on Supernatural once said, 'Family don't end in blood'. And I think that qualifies here." You giggle softly, happy to have found even a small bit of happiness and willingness to be able to express it freely. 

Arthur shook Morgan’s hand gladly and smiled his signature smile, looking back towards you. "Hey, uh… sis? Can we… can we talk? I haven't seen you for… what is it… five years now? I just wanna catch up." He expresses, his eyebrows turning up genuinely. 

You sigh, but nod. "Morgan, can you go into the other room while we talk? Just for a half hour?" You ask. Morgan shrugs and nods. 

"'Course kid. He's the only member of your damn family I'll trust. Just don't be gossiping without me." He teases as he leaves the room. You giggle softly as you watch him leave. 

"So… how have you been? O-other than-" Arthur began, his awkwardness taking over. You sigh and hold up a hand and look at him sadly. 

"Artie… please, let's just… not talk about that. I'm dealing with it. That's all that you need to know right now. You might be taller than me, but that doesn't mean that you're gonna know all of my secrets like an older brother." You tease, guiding Arthur towards the couch. 

Arthur playfully rolled his eyes and followed you, mocking offense. "Oh come on, height has to factor in there somewhere Sis." 

You shake your head and take a seat beside him on Spencer’s couch, sighing gently. "Nope, sorry little bro." You insist. 

Arthur smiles at you and leans back on the couch, sighing as he looks at you. "(Y/N/N)... you… You have no idea how much I've missed you. I pushed myself to graduate with all honors because of you. I got a scholarship too. In business. Because you always pushed me to do better. To do my best. I… I want to do something for you in return. Please. Name it. I can start making it up to you." 

You give Arthur a joking look and shook your head. "No need, Arthur. Besides, that was all you. You just needed the extra push. I'm so proud of you." You say, laying a hand on Arthur's arm. He smiled at you and took a sigh, signaling to you that the conversation was about to take a turn. 

Arthur's hands intertwined with each other and he leaned over for a moment, his elbows digging into his thighs. "(Y/N)... Look I… I know you said you were okay but…" he sighed again. "Mom she… she forbade me from seeing you in the hospital, I promise that's the only reason I wasn't there. After I promised to testify against her for you she banned me from leaving home." 

You widen your eyes, your mouth gaping a bit. "Arthur… y-you're testifying?" 

He looked up at you and nodded. "Yeah. She assaulted you at work and literally sold you, sis. If I can put her away, along with him, I'm gonna do it. For you. I want you to be safe. I may not be your older brother, but I want you safe too. I'm gonna try and protect you like a brother should. I couldn't do much as a scrawny 13 year old you know." He chuckled. You laughed briefly, a smile teasing at your lips. 

"Yeah… not really." You giggled. He shook his head and laughed back. 

"Ha ha. Very funny. But really… it's good to see you sis. I… I'm sorry I didn't do enough for you back then." He exhaled, his expression solemn and regretful. You take his hands in yours and give him a reassuring look. 

"Hey, just as you said. You were a scrawny 13 year old. What much could you do?" You point out. Arthur sighed. 

"I could've protected you. At least told Peter to scram at least once." He grumbled. You shake your head and smile at him. 

"I think I did that enough for the both of us." 

Arthur smiled softly and looked down, showing you his vulnerability when it came to you. You squeezed his hands gently, assuring him it was okay. 

And you both sat there in each other's company for a few more moments of silence. It wasn't an awkward one, so there were no awkward feelings.  

Arthur spoke up a few minutes later, having come up with an idea. "Can… can I at least pay for your therapy? I can pay for it with the money dad gives me. You… you need to see someone. I saw someone, you pushed me to go see Dr. Francesca and now I see her every two weeks. Please… let me do this for you." 

You sighed as Arthur began to try and persuade you. Damn him and his puppy eyes. He still had the gift. 

"Tell you what, how about we call Derek back in here and we watch some procedural cop show that we can all laugh at and I'll tell you what I decide later?" You narrowly avoid. Arthur thankfully notices this and drops the question. 

"Only if the show is dumb enough for a citizen like me to laugh at it." He settles. 

You giggle and nod. "Deal!"

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #Spencer Reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer reid x y/n #spencer #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer x reader fanfic #spencer x y/n #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds family #CRIMINAL MINDS FANDOM

[horansqueen]

You & Me : chapter 40

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32 || CHAPTER 33 || CHAPTER 34|| CHAPTER 35 || CHAPTER 36 || CHAPTER 37 || CHAPTER 38 || CHAPTER 39

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his -4.3k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

READ AM CONVERSATIONS AGAIN ON WATTPAD HERE

- notes: i hope this isnt too much and that youre still enjoying this story! its almost over tho, so if you have any request please send them asap! I have a few more chapters planned but I could always add a few filler chapters if you guys send me ideas. so yea, thank you!

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : here are the requests i used. im sorry about the Julia one, they couldnt have a very big and deep talk because it was Liv’s chapter but I still wanted to add her in because i really like her :) hope its okay!

TAKE A LOOK AT THE CHARACTERS HERE

Chapter 40 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

May 7th, 2018

It was quite late but we were both packing our things in silence. I had waited last minute to do it while Niall had to wait until he was back from his concert, which resulted in us doing it together. I missed going to see him play and sing and the thought made something stir in my stomach. I couldn't believe I stopped myself from going to see him do what he loved the most to do in the entire universe just because I was scared of what some losers could write in an online article. The more I thought about it, the more I found that completely ridiculous. I was about to mention something about it when I heard Niall talk, breaking the silence.

"Oh, I totally forgot to give you that." He leaned closer to me and handed me a small box that was wrapped in pretty pink paper. I frowned but took it in my hand anyway as he shrugged. "A fan told me to give it to you. Apparently, she was really sad when we broke up."

I stared at the small box on y hand and licked my lips. I knew most of it were just rumors, but I also knew that some people believe everything they'd read online. Still, this time, I couldn't blame them since it was the truth. I quickly unwrapped it and grabbed the note first, reading it out loud.

"We thought Niall was the biggest One Direction fan in the world, but we've seen you multiple times with random One Direction merch and we thought you may enjoy this."

I frowned more but when I saw the necklace, I let out a louder laughter. It made Niall frown too and I looked up at him with a smirk, bringing my hand closer to him. Around my fingers was hanging a necklace with his face on it. It seemed to be very old merch, probably from 2011, and I saw him grimace.

"No, Liv!" he whined as I put it around my neck and I chuckled again.

"Hey, it's a gift!" I argued. "Besides, I didn't have this one. I love it."

"You're such a pain." he joked, making me laugh this time.

I didn't see it coming but he literally jumped on me and I fell on the bed with a high scream. He pinned me down and started tickling me, holding both my wrists with one hands as the fingers of the other squeezed my waist, making my body jerk.

"Noooo! Niall stop!"

I squirmed, kicking him and hitting him without really knowing or controlling what I was doing. It took him a few seconds to stop and he stared down at me with a smirk as my lips were parted. I was panting low, not even able to enjoy his body on top of mine.

"Please, let me wear the necklace." I almost begged in a low voice.

His eyes roamed on me for about a minute and finally, the left corner of his lips raised up and he nodded once before moving closer to kiss me.

I had decided to follow him in Spain even if I had no idea when I'd have to fly back to California. We still had a few episodes to film but I was hoping Niall could come with me. He only had a few concerts left before he'd be off for a few weeks and even if he had to fly to the UK at the end of the month, I was thinking he could spend almost two weeks with me. I knew all we did was live in our luggage, going from airports to airports but at the same time, we were together and it's really all that mattered to me.

His lips moving slowly against mine made my heart twist in my chest. I loved him so much, I always would and I knew it. I was starting to trust him again, so much that the tiny ball of fear that seemed to live permanently in my stomach was now gone. I had decided that I wanted to live this plenty, to not hold grudges of fears that came from our past. I wanted to move forward and I knew that we had both changed for the better.

May 8th, 2018

We woke up early to catch our flight and I put my sunglasses on because I knew I looked exhausted. They were heart shaped but were black instead of my usual pink or purple ones for the simple reason I thought it would be less obvious to the people around that I had puffy and tired eyes. I didn't mean travelling if it meant being with Niall, but that didn't mean it was it wasn't sucking up all my juice.

I didn't expect the airport to be crowded but it was, and I moved my head down, trying not to catch anyone's attention. The fans started screaming, the paps started yelling at Niall to look their way, and when one of them moved too close to us, I felt my heart jump in my chest and without thinking, I grabbed Niall's hand. I realized my mistake and quickly let go of it only to feel his fingers tighten around mine. I could swear the flashes became even more intense right after and I glanced at Niall, licking my lips as I heard similar questions being yelled around us.

"Are you two back together?"

"Did you cheat on Dylan and Heidi together?"

"Are all the rumors true?"

We both held each other's hand tighter at the sound of all these questions being thrown at us and we kept walking as they followed us. I could feel my heart beat so hard in my chest that I felt like it was about to escape. I swallowed hard trying to relax a bit as I kept glancing at my boyfriend.

"Does that mean we're official?" Niall asked me, squeezing my fingers even more after he stopped walking, and moved closer to make sure I was the only one who heard.

I turned his way and licked my lips, trying to ignore the flashes and the sounds of the cameras. I was not used to that much attention, or at least, not as intense as it was being at that moment, but even if it was a bit intimidating, I was not scared.

"Do you want us to be?"

His gaze moved on my face as he studied me before sending me a fond smile. "Yes, I do."

I sent him a gentle smile that turned into a very big one. "We're official then."

"Fuck yes." he whispered, making me chuckle.

He pulled on my hand and we started walking again but as we were about to pass the gate, he quickly and roughly moved our hands up to show our intertwined fingers and it surprised me so much I felt my heart skip a few beats.

"FUCK YES!" he repeated in a yell, making me burst into laughter this time.

If I wasn't sure Niall loved me, I definitely was now. The fact that he literally told the world we were together proved much more than anyone could believe. I knew he was private, and so was I. I also knew he didn't like his private life to be in the spotlight, or talked about, or known, and him showing everyone, fans and paps included, that we were an item by throwing our hands up just showed me how committed he was. People would talk about us and the wrong things we did to Dylan and Heidi, people would definitely criticize us as individuals but also as a couple and I knew that for a while, people would stop talking about his music and my tv show only to blab shit about our love, but he thought it was still worth it and even if I was a bit surprised, it touched me more than I thought it would. And just like that, the blinded trust I had for Niall until he broke up with me was back, and I knew that this time, it would be different.

                                                          ---

We took a nap when we arrived at the hotel and when I woke up, it was the middle of the afternoon and Niall's arm was wrapped around me as he was laying on his stomach. I ran my fingertips on his arm and reached his back, making him groan slightly. He looked so good, his eyes closed, his bottom lip a bit over his upper one in a cute pout and his hair a bit messy. It made something come alive inside me and I realized that we went through so many things to get back pretty much where we used to be. The difference was us and the way we had grown, and I knew that what we lived when we were away from each other was needed to have the relationship we had at that very moment.

I tried not to wake him up and sat up slowly and gently in bed, rubbing my eyes and yawning before grabbing my phone. I knew he didn't want me to but I searched for his name and mine in google and a bunch of pictures from the airport appeared. My lips curled more at the picture of us walking away while Niall held our hands up together. I stared at it for a few minutes and pressed my lips together, feeling suddenly ecstatic and a bit dizzy. It was really happening. I was back with Niall and we were happy together. In all the months we were apart, I had wished for it, but I never thought it would really happen at some point.

"What are you looking at?" he mumbled low, taking me out of my thoughts. "You're smiling."

I turned to him and my excited smile turned into a fond one. His eyes were half-closed and his face was still pressed on the pillow. In fact, I was pretty sure he hadn't moved at all and looking at him made something stir in my stomach. There was nothing I loved more than waking up with him, except maybe falling asleep in his arms.

I tilted my head and let the left corner of my lips raise up before turning the screen his way. It took him a few seconds to let what he was seeing sink in and he smiled too.

"Oh look, that's us telling the world we're back together." he pointed out slowly and in a low tone, an amused smile curling his lips. "I'm sorry, I'm never that impulsive normally. But I've been waiting for that for a while." He paused and I felt his arm hold my waist tighter before he squirmed a bit and put his head on my lap. "It's okay though, because this is meant to last, so everyone may as well know now. What do ya say?"

I brought my hand to his head and ran my fingers in his hair gently, making his eyes flutter. "I agree." I whispered, making him smile more.

"We're gonna get married and have a few kids. And dogs, too. I love dogs."

This time, I chuckled and licked my lips. He had mentioned marriage a few times in the past weeks and I loved it. He used to be so scared of commitment and the future and now he was literally planning it for us.

"You know what we should do now?" he asked, making me shake my head. "Stay in bed all day. Order food, watch tv, and make out. Champagne and you. That sounds perfect."

I smiled widely. "Gotta celebrate the fact that we're official, now."

"Damn right."

After a few hours, we were done eating and the bottle of champagne was empty. We were still laying in bed but I had stopped following the movie and kept staring at the ceiling. What took me out of my thoughts, once again, was Niall's voice. I blinked a few times, trying to get back to my senses, and he raised his eyebrows at me.

"Mm?" I asked, making him laugh.

He stopped the movie quickly before grabbing the sheets of the bed, pulling them over our heads and once again locking us together in our safe place. I smiled at him and turned my body his way as he did the same. It was always a bit stifling to stay under the covers for a while but at the same time, it made me feel secure like nothing else did.

"How hard did that champagne hit?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Mm, i'm tipsy." I admitted, laughing too.

"Me too." he let out, his eyes roaming on my face. "You know I want to marry you for real, right? I want to promise to be yours forever. I want to literally show everyone that no one else will ever mean to me as much as you mean to me."

"I want it too. I want to be your wife. Niall I want it more than anything."

I felt my heart jump in my chest at my confession and we kept looking at each other for a few minutes in silence. He found my left hand and brought it up to his eyes level before running his thumb gently on my ring finger. I bit my bottom lip, trying to imagine what it would feel like to be his wife, and I swallowed hard, almost ashamed that I let my mind wonder so far.

"One day..." he just murmured before looking up in my eyes. "How many kids?"

"Five." I let out, making his eyebrows raise.

"Jesus Christ, do you want to kill me, woman?"

This time, I started laughing and he pulled me closer with a groan, letting his lips press against mine before pulling slightly away. I waited until he spoke again, my lips curling more and more with every passing seconds.

"You're not serious?" he just asked, making me laugh, this time.

"How many do you want?"

"Two, maybe three." he admitted before I kissed him again, sucking gently on his upper lip.

"Then two or three we'll have." I breathed out against his mouth as he held me closer.

"And we'll live in London, and keep a house in Cali, how's that?" he proposed in a murmur. "I'll bring you to Las Vegas to get married. We'll have the best honeymoon because I'll make you cum twenty times a day for a whole week."

I started laughing against his mouth and he smirked. "Where are we going for that?"

"Bali?" he suggested.

"Mm, don't tempt me." I joked as he laughed again, deepening the kiss and making me close my eyes. "What's on your mind, Horan?" I asked lower and more seriously.

"Well, how about we practice making those two-three kids now?" he offered, making me chuckle. "I really want to make love to my official girlfriend and future wife."

"Hey, I didn't say yes just yet." I joked as his lips traveled on my jaw and neck.

"But you will yea? You just accepted to be my official girlfriend so it's a good start. You'll be my wife and marry me?"

"If you want to spend your life with me, how can I say no to that?"

"That's what I thought." he just said, giving himself a swing and making me laugh even more as he got on top of me.

I spread my legs a bit as he nibbled on the skin of my neck and I groaned when I felt his hard dick press on my inner thighs. I was tired and still a bit tipsy but the way he whispered, the sound of his voice, the feeling of his body on top of mine... all of this was too good and I felt like I never had enough of him. Even after all this time, I wanted him as much as I used to, even more, probably, and the way he was all over me made me think he felt the same.

"I want to bury my cock so deep inside you right now." he whispered, bringing his mouth back on mine. "You're so fucking beautiful. I love you so much, Olivia. You made me so happy today."

I reached for his boxers and pulled them down as much as I could, his words making my heart twist and jump in my chest. I didn't think Niall could love me as much as he seemed to, I didn't know he could want to be with me to the point where he would literally hold my hand and show everyone that we were together in a crowded airport. I had no idea he was waiting for this, I didn't know that it would make him react like that to be my official boyfriend. All of this made sense, of course, but it was just hitting me that Niall really loved me as much as I loved him and that he didn't want to lose me again.

"Please Niall, just do it." I begged him in a murmur, reaching between my legs and pulling my panties aside before grabbing his cock and lining it up.

His hip movement was slow and as he pushed himself inside me, I felt my eyes roll back and a moan escaped my lips. I moved my knees up as he lied on top of me, holding himself on his elbows as he started thrusting in and out of me slowly. It felt like torture but at the same time it was so good I moved my chin up, feeling his lips leave kisses on it.

"I love you, can't believe you're my girlfriend again." he whispered, his lips brushing against my skin.

"I was always yours, Niall. I've always been yours. Since I was 6 years old. I knew I belonged to you." I replied just as low and without thinking. "I was just scared you didn't belong to me"

He pushed himself deeper inside me and it felt so good I let out an other whimper. He remained still, waiting for my eyes to open again and meet his, and I felt one of his hands slip in my hair while the other moved a lock out of my eyes.

"I belong to you." he confessed, making a shiver run across my back. "All this soulmate shit? I believe in it now. I have to."

I bit my bottom lip, making him glance at my mouth before looking back in my eyes.

"I love you. I fucking love you." I had barely finished my sentence that he was pressing his mouth against mine again, this time fucking me harder and faster.

My back arched after a few minutes and I moaned in his mouth this time, right before his thrusts became unsteady and a bit sloppy. The orgasm felt amazing and I gripped his arms as I felt his muscles tighten. I pressed my thighs on each sides of him, pushing myself against him in motion with him as he came. Nothing felt better than that post orgasm feeling with Niall on top of me. His lips found mine and he kissed me slowly but deeply for a while until we both got down of our highs and even a little bit after.

"I'm so happy you followed me here." he admitted with a smile as I tilted my head on the pillow.

"Me too." I licked my lips and raised my eyebrows. "Are you gonna follow me back to Cali in a few days?"

"Nothing will stop me from going with you. Nothing."

He rolled off of me and I pushed the covers to breathe fresh air, just realizing that I needed it. Niall grabbed my hand and I focused back on him as he stared at my fingers, making me try to suppress the smile stuck on my lips.

"Please come to my show tomorrow." he just let out, his fingers brushing gently against mine, exactly where a wedding ring would be. "We're officially together now, so we don't care who sees you or what they see."

My heart skipped a beat and I licked my lips nervously. It would be a good start but it stressed me to think that people would start judging us even more, now that we were official. I knew Niall was not going to start kissing me or anything in public but I still felt nervous.

"Okay." I let out low feeling myself tear up. I swallowed my tears but I could see my boyfriend getting emotional too and I sniffed. "I love you Niall. I don't ever want to be away from you anymore."

He brought one of his hands to my cheek and I felt the warmth of his skin against mine as he moved closer to lean his forehead against mine.

"I'm never leaving again. I promise on my life. I'm here to stay. What we have will never die, okay?"

I nodded quickly and bit my bottom lip as I felt a tear run down my cheek. I could swear he was tearing up too and I pressed my parted lips against his. "Okay."

May 9th, 2018

I hadn't realize how much I had missed watching Niall sing and play. He was always the kid who was singing, dancing, or playing guitar when we were younger, and it always brought a bunch of people around him. He seemed so untouchable, even for me, who was his best friend. Now, with the literal crowds and album selling, it was even more obvious, but a lot less scary. The fact that I knew he loved me definitely helped but watching him do what he's always loved but this time, as a living, was just breathtaking. He was breathtaking.

I chuckled when he winked at me subtly and I rolled my eyes with a smile until I felt a hand on my arm. I jumped slightly and turned again to look at Julia who was smiling widely at me. I thought I knew what she was going to say but instead, she pulled me close into a tight hug. It took me a few seconds to answer it but when I did, she jumped a few times, bringing me with her, and finally pulled away.

"I saw the video!" she said happily, her lips curled into a bit grin.

"The video?"

"Of you two at the airport!"

I felt my cheeks turn a soft shade of red as they burned a bit and cleared my throat, looking away. I knew there were pictures but I was not aware someone was filming. Come to think about it, it was not surprising, after all. I felt two strong arms wrap around my neck from behind and I smiled immediately, recognizing the touch and the perfume. It was crazy how he still affected my moods but I could also see that I influenced his, and that made our relationship so much better.

"Niall!" he let go of me to hug Julia and I smiled, taking a step away. "I'm so happy for you! I knew it would happen! I told you you had to keep hope!"

Niall's eyes found mine and his smile faltered as his embrace around his friend loosened.

"I sort of... confided in Julia." he admitted, licking his lips as mine parted. "I know you wanted me to keep the secret, but I didn't know what to do, and I felt like shit... I needed to talk to someone."

He looked at me with fear in his eyes, as if I was going to turn on my heels and leave, but I just tilted my head on the side while staring at him.

"Hey, I understand. She's one of your closest friends." I pointed out with a shrug before sending him a smile. "I talk to Louis about almost everything." I shrugged again. "Besides, I like her."

Julia smiled more and grabbed my arm, pulling me closer to them to hug both of us at the same time. I laughed and after a few seconds, she pulled away and smiled again.

"I'll wait for you guys backstage. We're going to celebrate right?" she asked as Niall and I glanced at each other, a bit unsure. "It's one of my last shows! We have to go grab a drink together!"

"Sure, we'll do that."

She left with a big grin and I turned to Niall who was smiling fondly at me. I frowned, my lips still curled, but I had to admit that the way he was looking at me made something twitch in my stomach.

"Thank you." he whispered, bending down to kiss the top of my head.

"For?"

"For wanting to get to know my friends. I know you get along great with all our childhood friends, and my cousins and all, but I've made great friends while doing this job, and you never really seemed to be interested in befriending them too, well, except for Harry, Louis and Liam.”

I shrugged a shoulder and looked away before looking back at him and raising my nose in a small grimace. "You used to hang out with many celebrities, especially when you were dating Heidi. I don't know, Niall, to me, it's a bit intimidating." I admitted. "I never felt like I fitted with them, or belonged with those famous faces. It's just weird to me."

"I'd love to present them to you. I promise they're great."

I stared at him and after a while, my lips curled again. "Sure, I'd love to meet them." I just gave in and by seeing the smile on his face, I knew it made him happy. "Let's start with Julia. I already know I love her."

Niall laughed and cupped my face, tilting my chin up before reaching for my mouth with his. "And I know I love you."

#niall horan #niall horan smut #niall horan fluff #niall horan story #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #niall horan writing #my fanfics #yam

[huihuiheart]

Valentine’s Drabble Event:

Between the 10th-18th I’ll take unlimited drabble requests for this event, all I ask is for your patience in getting them out. Okay that being said I’d like for this requests to include:

1. Idol name

2. Au/Trope

3. At least one of the following sfw/nsfw prompts.

Current Request Count: 0

SFW Prompts:

1. Slow and hesitant

2. Neck kisses

3. Small peck, pause, then a passionate kiss

4. Against the wall/door kiss

5. Slow but passionate/full of love

6. Jealous kiss

7. A kiss to shut them up

8. Longing kiss

9. Continued kiss, even after the director yells “cut!”

10. Sweet forehead/temple kiss

11. “I really want to kiss you right now”

12. “Stay with me.. please?”

13. “I am so madly in love with you”

14. “As long as I’m alive, I will do everything I can to protect you”

15. “I’ve never felt so strongly about someone before. I’m terrified”

16. “I can’t stop thinking about you. No matter how hard I try, you’re always on my mind”

17. “Don’t go on that date” “Why?” “Because it will kill me if you do”

18. “Just say the words, and I’m yours” “I love you”

19. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me”

20. “Please tell me you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you”

21. “Is this okay?” “It’s perfect”

22. “It’s okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you now”

23. “Seeing you this riled up really makes me want to kiss you”

24. “Shut up” “Make me”

25. “You’re the most beautiful person in the room”

26. “I’ve waited too long to do this”

27. “Part of me wants to keep the promise I made to myself.. the other half wants to say ‘screw it’” “Which half is winning?” “The latter”

28. “Why don’t we just stay here a bit longer? In our little cocoon”

29. “Were you jealous?” “No… maybe…”

30. “As if I’m going to let go of you that easily”

NSFW Prompts Below:

31.“Oh, god, yes, just like that.”

32. “Harder!”

33. “Fuck, that feels so good.”

34.“Shit, I’m so close, keep going -”

35. “Don’t stop!”

36.“Seeing you between my legs is so hot.”

37.“I may or may not have left some….marks.”

38.“I think we were a little too loud last night.”

39.“Really? You wanna have sex….here? Now?”

40.“I just want to make you feel good.”

41.“You like that?”

42.“C’mere. Let’s celebrate….alone.”

43.“God, I love it when you do that!”

44.“I need to work on my dirty talk. Wanna help me?”

45.“There’s gotta be someplace to fuck around here.”

46.“What I really want is for you to pin me against the wall and fuck me senseless.”

47.“I love it when you ride me.”

48.“I firmly believe there’s no better way to start the day than with some nice morning sex.”

49.“I have a whole list of things I’m planning to do to you when you get home from work today.”

50.“The noises you make are incredible.”

51.“I don’t care about this shirt, so please feel free to do with it what you will. And by that, I mean rip it right off.”

52.“Wanna see firsthand how flexible I am?”

53.“Woah. Are we really gonna do this?”

54.“I want you so badly it hurts.”

55.“Last night was unbelievable.”

56.“Holy shit, I’m sore.”

57.“Come for me.”

58.“Watching you come is so hot.”

59.“I’m sure we can find some excuse to get out of here.”

60.“I love getting you all worked up.”

61.“Ssh, we gotta be quiet.”

62.“Lay back and relax. It’s all about you tonight.”

63.“You know what sounds great right about now? A good, hard, passionate fuck.” 

64.“Let’s just do it. Right here, right now.” 

65.“Have I told you how much hearing you moan my name turns me on?”

66.“That’s unfair. You know I can’t resist when you look at me like that.”

67.“Wow. That outfit…oof. Here, let me help you get it off.” 

68.“You’ve been giving me bedroom eyes for the past half an hour - time to show me what, exactly, was on your mind.”

69.“To be honest, joining the mile high club has always been on my to-do list…”

70.“It’s hard to think straight when you’re looking at me like that.”

71.“Oh, god, do that again.”

72.“We’ve got five minutes until we’re late….oh, fuck it. Let’s do it.”

73.“Fuck me. Please.”

74.“I love the sweet, romantic, gentle sex, babe, but I also just want you to throw me down and make me scream. Y’know?”

75.“Oh my god. Did we just break the bed?”

76.“How’re we gonna explain this?”

77.“I hope the walls are thick.”

78.“You’re not quiet or subtle at all. That’s hot.” 

79.“I can’t concentrate. I keep thinking about you and everything you did last night and how wonderful it was…”

80.“Oh, god, I’m coming! I’m there! Yes, oh, fuck, I’m -!”

#valentine's day drabble event #admin #update #ask events

[fanbynature]

Obikin x AU /part 1/

Here are some additional things to know before you read the fic.

The ages of some of the characters are: Obi - 28, Rex - 26, Anakin - 23, Ahsoka - 19 going on 20, Plo/Shmi - late 40s, Qui-Gon - early 50s

The thing about the setting is this: It’s still in the SW universe, so aliens, planets and the like still exist and I am mixing it up with our reality while using some slang from SW. It’s set in a peaceful time period, so it’s just a normal living situation for them at the moment. The Jedi are going to have a place in the story but nothing too major. I hope this is not too weird.

I was hoping this to be just a one shot but I had to go and write something that is deeper than just some shag scene. I do love readin just plain NC-17 stuff but this ain’t it one. 

There are some warnings /non-healthy life choices, mention of non-con/rape, foul language, ooc - it’s an au what do you expect/

Obi-Wan is in a punk-rock band by the name of "Space Maniacs" that has been active for a few years but has not been very popular until recently. They had started to search for a better studio to record their songs because the home soundproofed garage of Ahsoka's dad, as nice as he is, does not scream "professionalism". Or at least that is what Ahsoka and Rex had been trying to sell to Obi-Wan. Honestly, he does feel apologetic towards Plo, Ahsoka's dad, for all the inconvenience they have caused even though the man had said time and time again that he feels proud of their tenacity and doesn't mind as long as they keep out of trouble.

And when Obi-Wan meets Anakin, the musician tells himself that he may start believing in God, because it's a whole ass miracle that the man comes across the band. 'Cuz if a guy that cute knows the band, is offering his very real and professionally equipped studio plus has the total hots for a certain lead singer it must be some type of miracle created by the almighty Her or that's what Ahsoka had been going on about for the past 20 minutes in the backstage area of one of Coruscant's' better known night cantinas they had just performed at. The cantina is called "Dirty Habit" and tonight they may have met somebody that will be beneficial for the future of the band. At least that is what they are all hoping for.

Obi-Wan had to resist the urge to roll his eyes at the comment that the guy has the hots for him so he settles for a snort. Even if it was true the decision of having sex with someone that could be professionally engaged with the band, won't be a wise one to make. Even if Obi-Wan found the idea of kissing those plush pink lips and to have his hands go through those dirty blond curls, tugging them enormously enchanting. The younger man would make such pretty noises for him. Fuck, no. That is a dangerous zone to enter. He won't jeopardize this chance for the band just because of a shag. Even if it's the best shag he could have in his life.

The guy, Anakin Skywalker as he introduced himself 30-40 minutes ago to the band after they had finished their set made a very tempting offer that they can hardly refuse. He offered them a fully equiped studio to use for as long as they want for 30 cred each month. The band wasn't sure whether they can trust him because that seemed like a total scam, that in the end they would be the one that have to pay an enourmous amount of money. However he explained that he and his mother have a non-profit organisation that helps rising artists who struggle to find their footing. Anakin gave them their cards and assured the band that they can check them out first on their Infocache and confirm that everuthing is legitimate. He doesn't blame them as he understands the dangers of being a rising artist and the people who try and take advantage of that. The blond also explained that he has followed the band for quite sometime now, since they were still experimenting with their sound actually and choose to first observe them and later decided to introduce them to his mother and if everything with their donors went smoothly they would help them. And here he was, speaking with them, offering them a generous amount of help.

They thanked him, understood everything but came to an agreement that they need just a little bit of time and they will contact him back with their answer.

"Honestly, Nobi, I don't understand why we just didn't agree on it on the spot. Anakin seemed genuine and proper with his cards and polite talking. And not so polite ogling."

Obi-Wan glared towards Rex and flipped him off.

"What did I tell you about that nickname? Stop using it. It's annoying. Also, we should not appear desperate. Weren't you the ones that were yapping about how we should "behave more professional-like". I was trying to not appear like I was going to suck this guy off. And I am the one who is in the wrong?"

"He didn't seem to mind. Bet he would suck you off before you get the chance to do it. Haha" the young togruta tried to whisper talk but it was loud enough for the fuming ginger to hear.

"Seriously you too? Can I get a break from the two of you?"

"Whaaaat? Come on, Obi. I know you are irked because Satine decided to end up things but you seriously can't blame her or take it out on us." Obi-Wan was contemplating the ways he could make a murder look like an accident or suicide. "Honestly, you can't look me in the eyes and tell me that you didn't know that this was coming. Like seriously, it was not going well."

Rex was watching his bandmates from the side and was sensing that things were going to either explode soon enough or their lead singer was going to storm out of the room to go get shit faced, sleep in some alleyway and get him and Ahsoka in trouble.

"Ahsoka." Both the man and the girl turned towards Rex. "I think it's time to stop with the jokes and get you home." The lead singer's eyes filled with gratitude towards the bass player and he gave Rex a little smile.

"Oh, Rex, you too. Let's have a little drink to celebrate. We deserve it. You two should stop behaving like old men. You are in your freaking 20s. Live a little."

"Rex is right. I have to go to work tomorrow morning. Get off me and prepare to go."

"That's not true. I know your schedule, it's your day off." Ahsoka scowled at Obi-Wan with disbelieve and crossed her arms in front of her. The man was trying not to snort at the display off childness of their youngest bandmate.

"Well, I decided to take a shift. The extra cash won't hurt us. Especially now that we have to pay for a studio." He smiled a little and gave Rex a knowing looking.

"So we are going to accept the help?!"

"Sure" Obi-Wan turned his gaze towards Ahsoka, gave her a bigger smile and then transformed his facial feautures into a more irritated emotion “Now let’s go because your father it’s going to kill me.” 

-----------------------------------------------

Of course, Obi-Wan didn’t have an extra shift and Ahsoka doesn’t have to know that. It’s not like he doesn’t want to get an extra shift, the thing is he can’t get one because he has the maximum available shifts his manager can give him. Other people have to work too, you kriffin menace, you know that right. Also I am going to tie you up to your bed and not allow you to do anything for a week straight if you don’t stop bugging me. Obi-Wan is slightly afraid of Cody now. He was even thinking of asking him to help in another position but he decided against it. Maybe Cody is right but that doesn’t mean that the Obi-Wan is going to listen to him. He has responsibilities and he can’t allow himself to rely on other people. Even if that was the reason him and his father have become estranged. It doesn’t matter, not anymore. He is a capable adult who does not expect other people to do his work. 

He may start to search for another job.

The ringing of the phone by the bedside brought up the troubled man back to reality. Shit, Ahsoka. Maybe he can ignore that. If he waits long enough it’s going to stop ringing. Ah, yes. Silence. Then a massage sound.

DONT IGNORE ME, KENOBI! I know.... 

Oh, for kriffing....She went to his job. Ringing again.

“Shouldn’t you be at Uni?”

“Shouldn’t you be at work? You liar. You know better than to lie to me, Obi-Wan. You should have just told me that your old bones were tired yesterday and Rex and I could have stayed and you could have gone home without lying. Also I have 1 hour brake and decided to visit your sorry ass. Know can you... ”

The older male was trying to remane calm as he knew that getting mad at the girl won’t be a sensible decision. She was right. He lied to her but she didn’t know earlier and was probably just worried that he was exhausting himself and wanted to check on him.

“Ahsoka, can you please slow down. Look, I am sorry. It was a stupid thing to do. Sorry for making you worried.”

Silence.

“If you want to...” Obi-wan started with a sigh but couldn’t finish.

“Next time just tell me the truth. I may be young and have to experience things but I am not daft....I am sorry too. For annoying you about Satine and the Skywalker guy. I was just trying to have some fun. But it was that peachy for you. I should have known better. It hasn’t been that easy for you this past year and I chose the wrong way of cheering you up.”

“When did you mature so much?” the older man was getting filled with a warm sensation in his chest. Proudness. The proudness of a big brother. Even if they weren’t related Ahsoka was close to him as any real sister he could have had.

“Tell anything to Rex and you are dead to me.” the girl warned him with an exaggarated threat in her voice.

“Hahah. I think Rex will truly appreciate the way you are starting to carry yourself, the way you think and sense the emotions in other people. He will love this side of you as much as he adores the careless, fun and cheerful side of you. Rex hasn’t been around as much as I have but his brotherly protectivness over you seems to be stronger than mine.”

“Stop it, you are making me blush.”

“It’s very much true. You know that one time-”

“So when are we going to talk with the Skywalker guy?” Ahsoka seemed to be in a rush and cut off the sentimental notion that the conversation was headed to. Obi-wan rolled his eyes. There haven’t been any time to really think about it but it has been sitting at the back of his head, constantly reminding him. The sooner he calls the better for the band. However there was this constant feeling of anxiety that was washing over him. He doesn’t know what to do. He can’t tell his bandmates, they would think he is just not getting enough sleep or food. He can’t talk to Cody because he really had the chance to tell him anything about yesterday and Ahsoka was waiting for an answer now.

“How about tomorrow? If that’s alright with you Miss Ahsoka?”

“Of course, my leash. My very trustworthy Knight in armor or Jedi in robes. I don’t know. Choose one. That’s sounds fantastic. I’ll talk with Rex and come by your house after I am finished. You just go and sleep, you old man.”

“Stop calling me an old man.”

“You stop acting like one.” she said with a mocking tone and hanged up.

Oh, Force. Sometimes he wishes he has chosen a different path for his life. This one seems like it needs a restart. Hm, maybe he should have become a Jedi. What he knew from his father is that he is Force sensitive but when a young Jedi had come to speak with Qui-Gon about the future of his child he had declined the offer of giving Obi-Wan to them. They had a long conversation and had concluded that as an ex-Jedi Qui-Gon had the abilities to keep his son save and help him if there was any trouble. So in reaching an agreement of Obi-Wan’s future as a Force Sensitive kid he can say that he had a pretty normal and stable upbringing. Well, except maybe a few instances. Some of those were his own fault so he couldn’t really blame the people that came across him. He turned out quite decent in end. For the most parts.

However from the texts which he could find about the Jedi some things seemed more appealing than others but certainly they didn’t feel as they were too far way from him. He could have easily fit with the culture. But he loves music too much too give it up now. He loves Rex and Ahsoka as his own family and he doesn’t want to let them down. 

----------------------------------------------- 

3 hours later

There was a banging from somewhere outside but the drowsiness from the sleep couldn’t quite allow him to register where it came from. After a few more moments of banging and the voice of Ahsoka, Obi-Wan finally came to his senses. The door. 

He rubbed his eyes and yelled a muted “I am coming. Stop doing that. The door is going to fall.” He was still sleepy and couldn’t find his slippers so he just headed barefooted with one open eye towards the door and opened it.

“Finally. We were going to- Can, you please put something on ?” Ahsoka looked her friend up and down, unimpressed and passed by him to go inside. 

What in the blazes... His sleeping habit of undressing himself had acquired for the first time when he was hitting puberty and he couldn’t exactly explain what is what connected to. It’s probably the most embarrassing habit he could have developed, especially when the first time it happened was during summer camp with the freshers being mixed and him trying to sleepwalk to there in the early morning with his blader not allowing him to sleep. He couldn’t have predicted that there would be somebody else. He also didn’t know about the lack of clothes on him. With the years it got less frequent, thank the Force.

“We brought food and a holofilm. It’s the crime-suspense one we have been wanting to watch.” Rex tried to hide his smile and not to comment that his friend hasn’t been able to outgrow his adolescent habit. It’s not like everyone can train their brains to do what you want them to do, damn it, Rex.

“Did you come here straight from Uni?” Obi-Wan was trying to speak to the younger girl while she was putting the popcorns in the nanowave and just not staying in one place. He had two rooms + fresher and a balcony. How much more she can move?

“Sure. Why?” she moved to the balcony taking a pack of cigarettes. Obi-wan took the whole pack out of her hands and threw them to Rex. “Hey, come on”

“Not good for you.”

“Look who’s talking. Blondie, pass them back.” 

“I ain’t getting into the middle of that. I am just minding my own business, thank you very much.” 

“Chicken” Ahsoka puffed her cheeks out, signed and put her hands on the balcony’s metal barrier. 

“You should spend more time at home. I thought you stopped being a bratty rebel who didn’t like her dad that much with no reason.” 

“I did. And I do. I do spend time at home I mean.” A few beats pass by them, looking to the Coruscant’s landscape, basking in the noises of the city and background noises of Rex doing something in the kitchen. Ahsoka straightens up and turns around towards her friend, looking at the ground, playing with something in her hand. “I love my dad, don’t get me wrong. But sometimes there comes a time when you just feel like you have to split from each other and live alone.” A few more beats pass by “You understand better than anybody I know.”

“Of course I won’t judge you if you want to live separately from your father if that’s what you mean. I do hope you talk to him first and not just run away.”

“Absolutely. I am not that irresponsible, not anymore. I am sure he will miss me and it would be much harder for him than it is for me. I just need this at this point in my life.”

“I am sure he will understand. He is going to absolutely throw you “a goodbye party”. Or more likely “get home sooner” one.”

“Oh, Siths. Please don’t make me imagine this. It just sounds embarrassing.”

“Rex is totally going to get everything filmed.”

“I already know that I am going to kill him.”

Both of them laughed at the ridiculous situation. Obi-Wan placed his hand on the younger girl’s should in a reassuring manner. 

“Whatever you decide to do I am here for you one hundred and ten percent of the way.”

The togruta smiled at him and pulled him into a hug.

“Thanks, big bro”

“Oi, the sappy bunch, are we going to watch a movie or what?”

The other two rolled their eyes and returned back inside. While the two were chatting outside Rex had set the snacks and drinks on the coffee table and prepared the film for just pressing the play button. 

“Hey, look what we’ve got here. Can you believe, Obi. Our bassist is good at more things than just looking good, playing the bass and getting us a free drink.”

“He is sometimes good at repairing stuff. You gotta give him that.”

“Oh, yeah for sure.” the other two snickered while the blonde was flipping them off.

“Haha, you guys. You are a golden comedy duo. Can we now just watch the damn film? “

“Absolutely”

Halfway into the movie, Ahsoka fell asleep and the guys let her sleep on the bed and called Plo so he won’t worry about his daughter being kidnapped or something else. He told them that he could come to pick her up so it won’t be trouble for Obi-Wan but the younger man reassured him that it was no problem at all.

“So we are calling the Skywalker guy?”

“That is what you want, guys, right? I am not making that decision just on my own and just presuming your opinions.”

“Yeah, it is.’

“Then it’s decided.”

The two men were sitting on the floor cross-legged, drinking whatever was left from the things Rex and Ahsoka brought. 

“Do you want something stronger? “

“What do you have in mind?”

 “Cheedon whiskey. You know that is not my usual preference but someone who I used to fuck from time to time gave it to me recently as a gift for our good times. Amusingly he was there when Satine and I, well Satine to be precise broke things off. “ The ginger was pouring the drinks while talking and his bandmate was watching him cautiously .”But this is a great drink. Let’s drink to our future success. Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Rex watched his friend enjoying the brown beverage going down his throat and then looked at his own and sipped a little. Making a face because of the burning sensation of the drink. It had good after taste but Rex is definitely not the biggest fan of this type of liquor. He prefers his beer.

“How are things with after Satine? I mean I know you don’t like sharing the hard stuff with us, especially me. You sometimes talk to Ahsoka but you haven’t said anything. What I am getting at is that I am worried. We are worried, with Ahsoka. And we want to know if everything is really fine.”

Obi-Wan knew that Rex didn’t like initiating conversations with serious topics. He was usually there when you needed him, he doesn’t ask you a question, just stays with you until he knows you are ready to tell him what’s wrong. And Obi-Wan could sense the uncomfortableness in Rex’s everything. The older male greatly appreciated what his friend was doing for him and he didn’t want to just blow him off. He knew that it took strength to do something you don’t enjoy doing.

“I can’t blame her. As much as I want to say it was both of our fault. It was mine. I just wish she could have done it sooner for her own good. I was too much of a coward to leave her. I stayed with her just because I was used to it, but I didn’t really feel the way I felt before and it wasn’t fair to her. And that not being the worst part. Now cheating is what an immoral person does.”

“You know that wasn’t the full story.”

“Wasn’t it? I remember it differently.” Obi-Wan was pouring his third drink now and Rex was thinking of hiding the bottle. Or plain pouring it out into the sink.

“You don’t remember half the night. That is the problem. You are trying to take the full blame for something you weren’t even half-conscious to do.”

“But I was conscious enough to kriffing get it up and stick it up into a guy’s ass. Wasn’t I, Rex?” The ginger was trying no to raise his voice so he won’t wake up Ahsoka but he was having a hard time. He stood up, cursing under his breath, took his cigarettes and went to the balcony. 

Rex was blaming himself for even raising the question. He knew better than that. Why did he even try to get something out of the older? He never wins with him. His brother is better than him with that. Dealing with Obi-Wan Kenobi. Kriffing Siths. He begrudgingly went to the balcony’s door frame and stood there. Shifting his eyes between Coruscant’s view and his friend’s back. 

“Look, I know it doesn’t matter what I say, you are going to continue putting the full blame on yourself, but just know that. I am on your side. I will call you out when it needs to be done. But not when you don’t deserve it.”

“I wanted it, you know that Rex. I told you. You were there.”

“You were drunk. He wasn’t.”

Obi-Wan turned around with glistening eyes. Tears. 

“I said yes, Rex. I said it. I would-I would have said it even if I was sober, Rex. I know it. I do. I just-” the older male dropped to his knees. Putting out his cigarette and hanging his arms to the side.”I am just-just not sure anymore.” 

He looked up to Rex, with his cheeks already wet from the streaming tears. The blonde crouched down and hugged his friend. They stayed that like for a few minutes and Obi-wan spoke again, with a hushed voice.

“I think I am just trying to convince myself at this point. Not trying to fall apart. I can’t do it. If I fall apart I have to tell her. She can’t know, Rex. She’ll blame herself that she didn’t let me speak. It’s better that way.”

Rex pulled away from Obi-wan and sat on the floor across him, looking at his friend.

“You are kriffing idiot you know that. How is that better? Who is it better for exactly? Not you, that’s for sure.”

“Don’t say anything, Rex. Please. Not even to Ahsoka.”

Rex was wondering really hard how he could just prevent his friend from harming himself further than he already has. 

“I am not the person that is going to tell you how to live your life and what choices you have to make. That is your job. But I am the person who is going to be next to you until you want the help you need. Ahsoka and I are going to be here. Cody too. He cares for you too, even if he has “the though love makes you stronger logic”. Rex paused for a moment and continued “Your father will always be there for you too. Well, at least until you know. Nevermind.” He dies Rex thought.”Maybe things with Satine won’t be the same but they don’t have to be. The important thing is that you feel better.”

Obi-wan stopped crying and he was sniffling softly. Trying to get his composure back. He didn’t like showing his vulnerability. Even to his friends. He would start to think of himself as a burden but wanted to stop it.

“I don’t think I am ready yet Rex. I don’t think I am able to face it.”

“Look that is perfectly alright. As long as you don’t try and deal with it alone in an unhealthy way. We are here for you, okay.”

The only thing the ginger could manage as a response was a weak nod. He searched for his cigarettes and popped one his mouth. Rex picked up the conversation again.

“Truly the pot calling the kettle black.” he laughed a little to his friend’s earlier hypocrisy to Ahsoka. The older male looked at him confused.

“Huh? Oh, that. You know that I have tried to quit several times with no positive outcome.” He lit his cigarette and let out a blow of smoke.”It’s truly something I’ll never be able to fix.”

“Whatever you say, Nobi, whatever you say. Do you want me to stay more because the public transport will soon stop and the prices of the hovercabs are going up.”

“Nah, go. I am going to fine.”

“Call me when you get a word from Skywalker.”

‘Absolutely.”

----------------------------------------------- 

The next day came faster than he expected with the bustling city noises waking him up. He forgot to close the door to the balcony last night. He remembered dragging himself from the outside, laying down his futon and just laying down. Now he had a duvet, which he didn’t remember getting. Ahsoka. She is still sleeping. He realised it’s still early as Ahsoka haven’t gotten up and she usually doesn’t have classes until late morning or early noon. He wasn’t sleepy, which meant his day will be longer and that annoyed him to no limit. He grunted and pulled the duvet over his head.

“Can you please just let me sleep for one more hour? Your grinding teeth are really kriffing annoying you know that. I think you should really go and let a doctor check you out. You have too much sleeping habits. It’s not healthy.”

“I just woke up and you are already annoying me.”

A small heart-shaped pillow flew over his head almost hit him in the face.

“You missed.”

A creak from his bed followed by footsteps on the wooden floor. His eyes were closed so he did not anticipate a soft yet hard hit on the face by a larger pillow.

“I think not. Ugh, now I am woken up. Make us some coffee. You are the host. Be one.”

“Half of my wardrobe is filled with your clothes plus a couple of your shoes. I think you can make your own coffee.”

“You are unbelievable.”

A small scratching noise was coming from the window outside followed by a meow. Ahsoka’s head snapped towards the noise and she went to check it out. There was a middle-sized loth-cat. The cat’s whole body was white except a patch of brown on top of each eye. Which was now meowing in Ahsoka’s feet, not knowing if it could do anything else

“Did you get a loth cat and not tell me?”

“She’s not mine. She just came one day and I started feeding her. She comes from time to time and I give her food when I am here. She seems like she’s domesticized. She had a collar when she first came but not anymore. Didn’t have a tag or anything like that.”

The togruta had already started making noises at the animal and petting her. Obi-Wan got up, when to the kitchen and took out a packet from the cupboard under the sink. He passed the girl with the cat in her lap, went on the balcony and poured the food into a green plastic bowl. The cat run next to him and started eating. He petted her for a bit and stoop up.

“Okay then. I think it’s time you get ready for Uni and I am going to make us breakfast and then I am going talk to Anakin.”

“Okay, boss. Oh, there is something else I want to talk to you about.’

“Sure. What is it?”

“Um, I have actually started to look into some places where I can move to live. As you know I received some loan and grants before I entered Uni so I have some money saved and can live for a while on those. But I was wondering if you could still help me with checking out when I pick a place if it’s legit or not. You have some experience so I think it would help me greatly.”

“Yeah, yeah. No problem.”

“Okay, I have more to tell you but I am going to shower first.”

The ginger laughed to himself and returned his attention to the breakfast. He hasn’t cooked for himself in a while. Running on coffee and cereal lately hasn’t been that great on his health but work kept him from making healthy choices. Okay, he kept himself from making healthy choices. A soft meow interrupted his inner monologue and his attention shifted towards the small creature which was halfway inside halfway out. 

“Oh, water. I forgot. What an idiot.” 

He filled an empty jar with water and went outside to put it into another plastic bowl but this one was blue. 

“Here, little one. Enjoy.”

The man smiled slightly and petted the cat softly again, trying not to disturb it, then he returned inside and went to finish making the food. While the man was occupied with his furry friend the shower noise had stopped and minutes after that the young togruta came out surrounded by fog.

“You should be thankful I don’t ask you for money for the electric bill. Half of it it’s yours. Doesn’t your skin melt off or something. “

“No, Mr Freeze who would probably shower in ice cube bath. I don’t have your endurance. “

“I could say the same to you.” Obi-Wan sent his most mature response - sticking his tongue out which was returned by Ahsoka with twice the emotion. 

“What else are you going to tell me.”

The togruta got closer to the kitchen counter and started making coffee for both of them

“Oh. I asked Cody if he can help me with a job in like a month or two. And he said that he won’t be needing any additional staff for the near future but he said he can speak with some friends of his that are in the business and will let me know if something comes up. ”

“That’s great. I am so glad for you.” Obi-Wan set everything on the table, while Ahsoka put some background music to enjoy while they were eating. 

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#obikin #obi wan kenobi #obi wan #anakin skywalker #anakin #obi wan x anakin #ahsoka tano #rex #cody #plo koon #shmi skywalker #qui gon jinn #qui gon #star wars #sw #fanfic #fanfiction #starwars #au #alternative universe #band au #as always i just had a concept and one scene in mind #and had to wwrite around those things

[asphalt-cocktail]

Sour- Chapter 1

Chapter 1: You’re a Right Bitch

Summary: Signing onto EMI records in the mid 80′s should have been a dream come true for Reader and her punk band, but she finds herself bubbling over with rage every time she interacts with the drummer from the successful rock band that records down the hall.

A/N: Hey lil cuties, I hope you enjoyed the teaser, it got a lot of good recognition which I’m happy about. Maybe i’ll actually do a tag list if anyone is interested (P.S. send ask if you are) and depending on how many people ask I’ll make but ONLY for this fic. If any of you have ideas for a name for reader’s band let me know because I’m writing the next chapter right now and I can’t think of what to call it, I was thinking maybe Sex Kitten, but let me know you’re opinion is always appreciated! This can be read as Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor and your feedback, likes, and reblogs are always greatly appreciated. 

Pairing: 80s!Roger Taylor x F!Reader

Warnings: Smut, hate fucking, degrading, alcohol, cigarettes, dom!Roger, swearing, fighting, unprotected sex, no foreplay, throwing up (from intoxication), age difference(maybe like 10 years, reader is probably mid- late 20s and Roger is close to 40), rog being kind of a c*nt, but reader also is, not proof read, grammar.

Word Count: 5.8k whoops

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Asks

18+ if you are a minor do NOT interact with this post. This is fictitious content and I own nothing.

<<<< Teaser

Signing onto EMI should have seemed like a dream come true, but it wasn’t. Not because you and your band had issues with the contract or the long hours spent in the recording studio, no, it was because of a certain drummer of a certain internationally known rock band that had been the absolute bane of your existence. You honestly had no idea how the two of you had gotten off on the wrong foot, maybe it was how loud your hot-headed drummer, Benny got when he was pissed off, or how Haz liked to play his guitar outside of the sound dampened recording studio or how your singer Joe sand loudly in the halls as the four of you left to go home, or maybe it was the fact that you told him you expected him to be much shorter from slouching behind his set. Come to think of it, it probably was the latter of the complaints you’ve gotten from the neighboring band.

The first time you met Roger Taylor was also your first day in the recording studio as an officially signed and contracted band. The group of you were leaving well past midnight, alcohol and cigarettes seemed to be the only way you four could make it through recording this late. As the group of you stumbled through the hallway, your laughter accompanied by Joe’s bass heavy vocals echoed loudly through the halls. Your troupe had just barely made your way to the first door before a head of messy blond hair and furrowed brows poked his head out from the neighboring recording room, “Would you shut your bloody traps, some of us are trying to record.” He snapped before loudly slamming the door behind him.

You and your bandmates froze, unsure of what to do or say. It wasn’t until Haz spoke up and shoved Joe “Yeah shut up, Joe.” He mocked while laughing. You couldn’t help but think of how familiar his face looked.

Just the thought of Roger Taylor was enough to make your mood sour for at least the next three hours. You frowned pushing the heavy doors to the outside open, inhaling the cool winter air. You needed to get out of that damn recording studio, it got so stuffy after having four people in there breathing the same air for hours at a time. You brought a cigarette to your lips and lit it, leaning against the brick building with your hands in your jacket pocket, the door next to you opened revealing your nemesis, Roger Taylor, much to your dismay. “Fuck now my cigarette is ruined.” You said blowing smoke out towards the air.

Roger rolled his eyes, “Piss off.” He retorted before walking past you and to his car to grab a few sets of spare sticks.

“Aw, not out here to join me for a smoke?” you joked.

Roger frowned and his face twisted into one of disgust “I’d rather eat a fist full of glass.” He spat at you bitterly.

You hummed taking a drag from your cigarette and blew the smoke directly in his face as he walked past you “Shame, we really could have bonded.”

Roger waved the smoke away from his face “Don’t you have to be a bitch somewhere else?”

Your face twisted as you stubbed your cigarette out with your boot “Don’t you have to bang on some pots and pans?” you retorted.

Roger rolled his eyes and pushed past you, throwing the door open and stomping down the hall. You waited a beat for him to make his way to Queen’s recording room before you followed suit. Seeing Roger Taylor in person was enough to sour your mood for a few days. You and your bad attitude made your way back to the studio, you loudly shut the door behind you which caught the attention of your bandmates. “What’s got you in a pissy mood?” Haz asked.

Benny smirked knowingly “You ran into roger while out on your smoke break, didn’t you?”  

You huffed “I swear to god I’m going to fight his arrogant ass one of these days.” You said while pacing, too worked up to sit down.

Joe walked out of the booth “Well if you’re done brooding, get in and record your bass line for the song. We’ve been wasting time waiting for you to get back in.” He sounded almost as frustrated as you were.

You nodded, picking up your bass and walking into the booth, you put the headphones on and allowed for the music your bandmates had recorded previously to fill your eardrums as you added your bass line onto their unapologetically loud post-punk beats.

The music stopped and you looked up from your bass, “You sound like shit.” Benny said, “Not like good shit, but like actual shit.” He added.

Your jaw dropped, “Excuse me?” you sounded shocked, “What?” You really couldn’t wrap your head around what Benny had just told you.

Joe nodded his head and gave you a sympathetic smile along with a thumbs down, “You should make it… make it more slappy I guess?”

You scoffed “Slappy? What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Benny clicked on the speaking button again “It means, make it sound slappy. Like this,” He said singing a bass like.

You nodded your head “Got it.” You said and waved your hand signaling them to roll the tape. You chewed on your lip and listened for a minute to think of something to play before you let your fingers fly down your frets and strings. When you finished you looked back up to the window “Slappy enough for you?”

“Fucking brilliant, per usual.” Haz complemented into the mic.

Movement in the background caught your attention though, you walked closer to the window and squinted your eyes trying to see into the poorly lit sound booth to the door. Where some tall figures stood “What’s going on back there?” You asked.

Haz shifted nervously in his seat “Don’t worry about it, we have other songs to do.” You could see him swallow thickly behind the glass that separated the two of you.

You were suspicious but he was right, “Fine, roll the bloody tape.” You were frustrated, frustrated with your shit takes, frustrated with Roger, frustrated with the fact you didn’t know what was going on from the outside of this stupid little box. Through the middle of your little recording session you saw your bandmates recongregate in front of the soundboard. They whispered and talked amongst themselves while the producer sat next to them obviously eavesdropping, you abruptly stopped “Are you going to tell me who was at the door? Or should I just keep playing and not having you pay attention.” You said bitterly.

Benny rolled his eyes and paused the recording, “If you really need to know, Freddie Mercury invited us to a gathering at his house later this evening.” He said waving an envelope in front of the window.

“You’ve got to be joking.” You said, letting go of your bass and allowing it to drop and hand loosely from the strap around your shoulder.

“Honest,” He said raising his hands defensively.

You took your headphones off and switched off the mic before screaming “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” From behind the soundproof booth, that did it. You rage had finally bubbled over, you shoved over the table holding your water, extra pics, and notes before breathing deeply and regathering yourself. “Let’s roll the fucking tape so we can get ready, yeah?” You said, as your bandmates looked at you with shocked expressions behind the glass. “You lot catching flies, or are we going to fucking record, let’s go.”

As you recorded your bandmates sat in an uncomfortable silence before one of them finally spoke “I’ve never seen [Y/N] that mad at anything in my life.” Haz started, leaning back in his chair.

Joe nodded his head, still listening intently but joining in on the conversation, “Yeah, but I bet it’s because she hasn’t gotten a proper lay in ages.”

Benny cracked open his beer and took a big gulp before grunting in agreement “You think she fancies Taylor?” he questioned.

“Yeah, but she can’t deal with her feelings, you know that. She’ll destroy this whole damn studio before she admits that.” Haz pointed out.

Benny nodded his head “Right, well I guarantee she is going to be piss drunk tonight, so I’ll keep an eye on her.”

---

After your litter outburst in the studio the boys decided to call it a day after your last take to allow for you all to go home and get ready for Freddie’s party, Ben would be making arounds later to pick everyone up but that wouldn’t be an issue considering he was also your roommate. You rifled through your closet, struggling to figure out what to wear. Your typical style didn’t seem grand enough for a Freddie Mercury party, but you made do with what you had and opted for comfort instead of sex appeal.

“Try not to fight anyone tonight.” Benny said as the two of you got into his small car.

You obviously knew what he was referencing but preferred to ignore it “I won’t, it’ll be fine, I’ve never been in a better mood.” You said and flashed him a fake cheesy smile.

Benny rolled his eyes knowing he would have his hands full tonight.

The drive to Freddie’s lavish home was surprisingly short, which you were grateful for seeing as sitting in the car was making you stir crazy. A pit of butterflies had formed in your stomach, but you had no idea why you had this sudden onset of nerves. You got along wonderfully with all of the other members of the famous rock and roll band and often times would ring up John Deacon for advice on your playing. You didn’t mind his bluntly honest critiques or his back handed complements that would make any other person run and cry. You were not any other person in the sense that you and John were very similar in that sense. Being the bassists in your respective bands meant you had to stand up for yourself otherwise you would get pushed to the background and often forgotten about by fans. It was your mutual understanding for the struggles of being bassists and strong drinkers that caused your professional friendship to form.

The group of you made your way to Freddie’s front door and were let in by nicely dressed doormen, and the scene before you was unlike anything you could have imagined. You knew his parties were the stuff of legends, but a party of this stature could rival even the great Jay Gatsby. You quickly lit a cigarette and took a glass of expensive white wine from one of the waitstaffs’ trays, promptly downing the small glass and handing it back to them, “Shall we?” You asked nodding your head into the large crowd of people before you.

Before you knew it, your bandmates had been swallowed by the crowd, causing you to lose sight of them and anyone else you may have recognized as a matter of fact. You meandered through the crowd towards the bar where you saw a familiar head of iconic curly hair, “Brian!” You said, greeting him with a friendly embrace which he returned. “It’s so nice to see you outside of the recording studio.” You jokingly said.

He laughed and nodded his head, “Yeah same to you.” He took a sip from his drink, “I heard you and Roger got into another little spat.” He could see the remanence of frustration behind your cheerful expression.

Your smile quickly dropped and was replaced by rolling eyes and deep sigh, “Did he tell you that?” You asked, you could feel your frustration boiling over.

“You know he’s sensitive about his drumming.” Brian chimed in with a smirk, oh did he love stirring the pot between the two of you.

“Well I’m sensitive about being called a bitch.” You said quickly swallowing the mixed drink your ordered, hoping the alcohol would ease your frustration.

Brian’s lips quirked into a sympathetic smile, “I’m sure he didn’t mean it.”  That was a lie and both of you knew it.

You nodded, already nursing your next drink, these bartenders really did work at inhuman speeds “Right,” You said not believing his lie, “Where’s Fred and John?” You quipped.

“What, not curious about where the fourth member is?” Brian pressed, your silence caused him to put his hands up defensively “Only taking the piss.” He said, still smiling “Freddie is out back, and John is God knows where.”

You nodded your head before ordering another drink, back up if you will, and bidding Brian farewell before you pushed your way through the crowd to greet the host. Freddie was having a good time, per usual. You waved hello to him from the crowd of people, he yelled something you couldn’t hear over the music and reached for your hand pulling you into a warm friendly hug which you awkwardly returned given your hands were full. You handed Freddie your empty drink glass “What should I do with this?” You asked, he responded by taking the glass from your hand and throwing it out into the crowd of people, causing you to laugh while nursing your next drink.

You and Freddie laughed in your mutual drunken states “You know, darling, when Roger came back into the studio and mentioned how you said something about him banging on pots and pans I nearly died from laughter.” He said remembering the flushed and angry expression on his drummer’s face. “You know what I think?” He asked leaning into talk to you, you sipped your drink, looking up at Freddie wide eyed and pressing him to continue speaking “I think the two of you should fuck.”

You choked on your drink, coughing it all over the front of your shirt and wiping the dribble from your chin “What!” You asked in a shrill voice.

Freddie let out a bellowing laugh, “It would be brilliant, the two of you need a good fuck anyways.” He said trailing off at the end and taking a large sip from his highball glass.

“I can’t believe you would even suggest I sleep with that arrogant asshole.” You were honestly kind of offended that Freddie would group you with one of Roger’s lowly groupies.

“Hear me out, love.” He said, his stance wavering from the alcohol “Roger has had such a stick up his ass after quitting smoking and the divorce. I don’t think he’s gotten any decent pussy since we toured in the 80s and you? I don’t ever see you going home with any sort of eye candy.”

You rolled your eyes before you finished off your drink and set your glass on a table, “I don’t get any I’m the only female in a mostly male punk band, Fred.” You pointed out, using your now empty hands to light a cigarette, “I’m not even a lead, I just play bass.” You said blowing smoke out into the night sky.

“Oh rubbish, you’re a damn good bassist or John wouldn’t even give you the time of say.” What Freddie said was true. While John was harsh in his critiques, you knew it was only because he saw the raw talent you had.

You nodded your head only half listening to Freddie, your mind still caught up on trying to imagine how sex with Roger Taylor would be. A bitter frown crossed your lips, you would never fuck Roger Taylor, “I need a refill.” You huffed before promising Fred you would come back immediately after your drink. You pushed your way through the crowd, your arm raised as to not burn anyone with your lit cigarette. You tried desperately to find your bandmates, but alas due to the large crowd it was no use.

Either way, you needed another drink.

You quickly made you way to the bar back inside the house and ordered a shot of whiskey and chased it with a full beer before you ordered another mixed drink. The copious amounts of alcohol you had consumed were finally catching up to you, your face felt hot and flushed and your skin tingled delightfully. You hummed, sipping your drink and making your way to the bathroom to finally break the seal. After checking several of the first-floor bathrooms, only to find their handles locked you frowned in frustration and made your way up the stairs to the second level of Freddie’s mansion before you finally found an unlocked bathroom. You promptly went in and relieved yourself as you exited you ran into a surprisingly firm body, sloshing your drink and theirs on each other’s respective shirts “Who invited you here?” The voice sent a chill of frustration up your spine and to your alcohol flushed face.

You looked up, locking eyes with an equally intoxicated Roger Taylor, you huffed moving to push past him “Freddie did, the other members of your group actually seem to enjoy my company.” You said, once again moving to squeeze past him. Your efforts were to no avail, as he had firmly planted both hands on either side of the door, trapping you in the bathroom. “Get out of my way.” You said impatiently, crossing your arms over your chest.

“You’re always a right cunt you know that?” he said in a matter of fact tone.

You grit your teeth and clenched your drink harder “You’re the one that’s the cunt, maybe it’s all that groupie pussy that’s ruined your respect for women.”

Roger scoffed, here he was, nearly forty years old and throwing insults at some newbie punk rocker. “I don’t know if I’d call you a woman, maybe a failed guitarist sure, but a woman or lady not so much.” He said crossing his arms over his chest giving you a smug look.

“I think your sticks are too far up your ass, Taylor,” You spoke as you pushed past him. Before you had time to react you felt hands on your shoulders pushing you hard against with wall causing you drop the glass in your hands, allowing it to shatter on the ground and the breath to escape from your lungs, you groaned but didn’t know if it was from the pain of your back colliding with the wall behind you or from the adrenaline you felt rising in your veins and stomach.

Roger’s strong hands held you firmly against the wall and his calloused fingertips brushed against the skin on your collar causing a light shutter to run through your body “I have half a mind to shut you up right here.” He threatened, his usually bright blue eyes now clouding over with something much darker.

You didn’t know if it was the alcohol or the pressure of having his knee right between your legs, but you felt a sudden boldness “Do it,” You pressed, articulating your words and hoping to get a rise out of him.

With that, he pressed his lips against you with force, causing your teeth to clank together and your head to fall back, knocking against the wall. His roughness causing a sultry moan to slip from your lips, “You’re pathetic.” He hissed pulling your hair and tilting your head to expose your neck and leaving hot opened mouth kisses along your jawline to your neck where he harshly bit down causing you to shove him back.

Roger gripped tightly to your hips causing the two of you to stumble backwards from the force of your push “Take me to a bedroom and fuck me already.” You said impatiently. Freddie wouldn’t mind if the two of you had a quick romp in the sheets in one of his many bedrooms, after all he was the one that instigated the whole thing.

The two of you stumbled, a mess of tangled and drunken limbs as you fell back into the first open bedroom you could find. Roger flipped on the light switch, not breaking the kiss and revealing a large well decorated room with an equally large bed in the middle. He shut the door behind him with one arm and shoved you back onto the bed with the other. Your eyes caught your reflection in the side mirror, your hair was a mess accompanied by smeared make up and eyes clouded with lust.

You quickly slipped your boots off and lifted your hips to help Roger take your pants off. Quickly, he flipped you over and pushed you forward. You adjusted yourself, ass in the air and legs spread showing off your already wet pussy. Roger groaned looking at it and ran a finger through your slick folds “You truly are pathetic, you know that, [Y/N]? I’ve barely touched you and here you go making a mess all over Freddie’s sheets.” He inserted two fingers into you agonizingly slow and licked his lips feeling the tightness of you engulf him, “A shit bassist, shit song writer, shit musician, shit person…” He emphasized each of his words with the slow lazy thrusting of his fingers. You let out a choked sob, desperate for him to give you more, “What was that?” He asked smugly, “If you want to get fucked, you’re going to have to be louder for me.” He said before pulling his fingers out leaving you feeling empty.

You pushed back against hand, “No-” you said sharply. You spread your legs further and arched your back “Please,” you hated how he had complete control over the situation, but at the same time loved it.

“Please what?” He asked swiping the head of his cock between your damp folds, intently watching as your juices coated him.

“Fuck me.” You said softly, clenching the bedsheets.

He raised his hand and placed a sharp smack on your ass causing you to jolt “Ah, fuck. Just stick it in already Roger.” You hissed.

Without warning the blond lined up to your entrance and pushed in, not giving you time to adjust. He let out a choking groan, not expecting you to be as tight as you were, “Fucking Christ.” He hissed snapping his hips against yours with purpose.

You gripped the bedsheets and cried out, feeling him stretch your walls unapologetically. There was no foreplay and no care in how either of you handled each other, just wanton need mixed with the mutual resentment you had for each other.

Roger propped one of his legs up to angle deeper into you and leaned over, pushing the side of your face into the mattress as he relentlessly pounded into you, years upon years of frustration he couldn’t hold back. He fucked his failed marriage, arguments with the band, cigarette cravings, and the comments you made about how shitty you thought his drumming was into you as he drove you into the mattress. Your legs shook and eyes rolled into the back of your head from the pleasure you received from the new angle and you let out a string of garbled words neither of you could understand. “This whole party can probably hear how much of a slut you are.” He said slipping his thumb into your mouth to which you greedily sucked on, “I didn’t expect you to have such a tight pussy” He huffed and groaned feeling your walls flutter against him, “’Cos you seemed like such an easy lay.” He let out a breathless laugh, knowing how right he was.

Your arms had given out and were sprawled out in front of you and drool had started to dribble down your chin from Roger’s thumb pressing down on your tongue forcing your mouth open to hear your sinful cries, you knew your legs weren’t going to hold you up much longer and Roger knew that as well.

He quickly pulled out and flipped you over onto your back in a less than graceful manor before he hitched your legs over his hips and pushed himself back in, continuing his relentless pace. You reached your hand into his hair and tugged roughly on his while your other hand raked its nails down his back causing him to arch into your touch and his movement to faulter.

You were surprised to feel a hand slip between your legs and begin rubbing rough circles around your clit, guess chivalry wasn’t dead after all, you squirmed against his touch the stimulation almost becoming too much for you to handle. Your walls twitched, clamping down around Roger, earning a shuttering moan from him.

You were both close.

“R-Rog…” You let out a stuttering moan feeling your climax building in your gut.

“Come on, you can’t be that daft, use your words.” He huffed, gripping your chin to make you face him, “I want this whole party to know who’s fucked you by the time I’m done.” He said through gritted teeth.

You opened your eyes and your mouth hung ajar, breathing heavily as you made eye contact with the mess of a man before you. Roger’s shirt had ridden up, and his pants were half pulled down and accompanied by sweaty and matted hair, you hated how the look in his eyes caused your walls to clamp down hard on his cock, squeezing him as you reached your climax, yelling his name with a hoarse and cracked voice for the whole party downstairs to hear, and the face he made as clenched your thighs and hip and reached his own, releasing hot spurts of come into you. He hunched over you, letting out shaky breaths as he worked you through your orgasm. He hated you but wasn’t a monster.

Roger stopped and swallowed thickly while trying to catch his breath, you glanced over at the mirror seeing red scratched zig zagging on his back and sat in silence, wondering which one of you would cave first and break it. The drummer pulled out of you and tried to hide the whimper that escaped him at the feeling of your tight walls clenching around his sensitive cock but failed, before he tucked himself back into his pants, “Still think you’re a bitch.” He said tucking his shirt back into his pants and tightening his belt.

“You’re a shit lay.” You tried to insult as you got up, steps wavering and some of the evidence of your prior actions leaking down the inside of your thigh.

Roger bit his lip at the sight and watched you pull your pants up, “Right and the whole crowd downstairs couldn’t hear your pathetic voice five minutes ago.” He said before turning to leave, giving you a short wave “Ta,” he said and left, walking downstairs with no shame.

Your hips ached as you walked to the bathroom to clean yourself up, you hated how that was your first penetrative orgasm, and you hated the ache between your legs, and you hated the smug look on Roger’s face after he left because the both of you knew he was probably the best lay you’ve had. But you couldn’t find it in you to be angry, not while in your post orgasm haze. You walked down the steps, taking it easy, and made your way to the bar and ordered a mixed drink to quench your thirst, desperately hoping that the stares you received weren’t because these strangers knew you just had been fucked so hard you could still feel the muscles in your legs twitching or that you could still feel the remains of your and Roger’s essence leaking out of you even after you cleaned yourself off.

You ordered a shot and a beer, quickly down the shot and moved to drink the beer before it was taken from your hands. You turned to see Freddie nursing what used to be your beer with a knowing smirk on his face, “[Y/N],” He said in a sing song voice.

“I didn’t fuck Roger” You said defensively.

Freddie grinned and handed you back your beer which you promptly drank out of “I didn’t say that, but you just confirmed.” He nudged your side, “Was it good? You know I caught Roger walking down the steps and he flashed me this grin.” He paused to order a drink, “And you know what I said to myself? I said, oh no Roger only makes that face after he fucked a good cunt. Then what do you know” He shrugged in an animated fashion “I see none other than you, darling, walking down the stairs, stiff as a board.” Freddie was about to continue rambling before you cut him off.

“I hate him.” You said placing a cigarette between your lips and lighting it, inhaling deeply.

Freddie practically ignored your comment, “But it was good wasn’t it?” Your silence was all he needed to answer “See!” He pointed out.

As the night continued so did your consumption of alcohol, you felt your drink being taken out of your hands and a blurry figure and closed on eye to focus your vision. It was a very pissed off Benny, “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you since we got here.” He said, drinking your drink.

You whined and leaned onto Benny’s chest “Hey, I was drinking that.” Your words slurred together.

“You look like a mess.” He said wrapping an arm around you to help steady your poor balance, your make up was smeared, hair a mess, clothes wrinkled. But thankfully your drunken state covered for your earlier romp in the sheets. “We have to go home,” He said pulling you along, “Come on.”

Your steps wavered as you began walking out “Wait,” You said abruptly stopping, “I have to say bye to Fred.”

Benny rolled his eyes “You’ve been with Fred all night, I’m sure he’ll understand that we need to leave.” You let out a whiney protest, “It’s 4am, [Y/N]” he said as if pointing out the early hour in the morning was going to make you want to leave more.

You huffed, crossing your arms over your chest and firmly stood your ground, “Fine, for god’s sake Joe go find Freddie.” Benny said running a frustrated hand through his hair.

To you what seemed like hours but was truly minutes passed and Freddie was before you, and equally as drunk mess as you were, hanging off Jim’s shoulder. The two of you held each other in a drunken embrace and Freddie kissed your cheek goodbye before Benny pulled you off.

As Benny and Joe practically pushed you into the car you caught sight of a familiar blonde who was also about to leave, you rolled your window down “Hey!” You shouted, catching Taylor’s attention “You’re a bitch!” You shouted, to which he flipped you the finger and yelled ‘fuck off’ as you and your bandmates drove away.

After dropping off your two other bandmates at home Benny draped your arm across his back and held you at the waist, as you struggled to stand. “’M gonna puke.” You said feeling your stomach doing flips and a sudden cold chill crawl up your spine and settle where your ears and jaw connected. You moved to kneel on the soft grass on the side of your parking area and your hair fell around your face as you retched, trying to use your arms to hold yourself up, they were so tired and your elbows jerked, threatening to give out.

Benny pulled your hair back, seeing a large and deep mark of varying shades of red and purple on your neck, “What the fuck is this?” He asked poking the side of your neck when you finished puking and started to regain your breath. You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand and mumbled some incoherent words, “What?” He asked again.

“I fucked Roger!” You said loudly, sitting back on the concrete.

“Ssshhh,” He said putting a hand over your mouth “You’re going to wake the whole bloody neighborhood.”

You swayed in your seated position and fell into Benny’s chest, “I fucked Roger,” You said in a loud whisper.

“Yeah, I got that much.” Benny said, hooking his arms under your shoulders and pulling you up with him, the two of you made the long arduous walk to up to your apartment building. Benny laid you in your bed and unlaced your boots, you let out a huff still frustrated with yourself, “Was it good at least?” your roommate asked while handing you a glass of water.

You sat up in your bed and gulped it down “Yes,” you said in a defeated voice “But it doesn’t change anything, I still can’t stand the bloody prick.”

Benny hummed “Right,” He said nodding his head and taking the glass from your hands, “We can talk more about this in a few hours, the birds are chirping.”

---

When you awoke a few hours later you groaned, clutching your head feeling the insistent pounding of a hangover rattling through you and an ache between your legs, “Shit,” You said out loud remembering your actions from the night before. You got out of bed seeing you were still in last night clothes and slipped into an oversized tee shirt and put on some sunglasses to help shield your eyes from the bright light of day before you shuffled out of your bedroom and into the bathroom to find something to curb your headache.

You grabbed the pill bottle of over the counter pain killer and made your way to the kitchen for a glass of water and were greeted by your bandmates all in your living room. You opened your mouth to issue an apology for being a drunken mess last night but before you could get words out Joe interrupted you “Don’t worry, Haz puked all over the nice tile near Freddie’s pool right before we left so you weren’t the worst off.” Haz hid his face bashfully and nodded at you feeling your pain.

You grabbed a glass of water and made yourself comfortable in your usual spot in the living room, not caring that you weren’t wearing pants. You were comfortable enough with your bandmates and paid half the rent here so you really should be able to do whatever you damn well pleased in the place you called home. Much to your dismay you were already thrown a heap of questions “So I heard you fucked Roger last night.” Joe said bluntly.

You paused bringing your glass of water to your mouth to drink and were thankful your sunglasses hid your expression, “Yeah we fucked. What of it?” You asked defensively.

Joe made a face and put his hands up, “I was only making conversation.” He muttered bringing up his cup of tea before drinking it.

You were not going to hear the end of it.

Chapter 2: We Can Hate Each Other in the Morning >>>

#roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #queen smut #queen x reader #reader insert #x reader #roger taylor concept #roger taylor fanfic #borhap #borhap fanfic #roger taylor blurb #borhap blurb #ben hardy!roger x reader #ben hardy!roger taylor #ben hardy x female reader #ben hardy #ben hardy x reader #ben hardy!roger taylor x reader #ben hardy concept #ben hardy blurb #queen blurb #queen concept #borhap x reader #bohemian rhapsody fanfic #bohemian rhapsody fandom #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor series #sour fic

[alliswell21]

Curling a Shot at Gold

I owed @katnissdoesnotfollowback an Olympic drabble... it’s not as detailed and riveting as I would’ve love to deliver, but I hope it’s still a good offering. I still have 5 minutes to post this on Feb. 25th, so, hope you enjoy it.

Rated G.

>>——————> >>——————->

Katniss plops on her stomach way harder than she meant to. She’s in first place and according to her calculations she’s got around 20 seconds on her closest contender. She got bullseyes on all of her targets in her previous two shooting rounds, so theoretically, she can relax and take breather, but her competitiveness won’t allow it.

To make matters worse (or maybe make matters better, she’s still on the fence on that) she saw Peeta at the edge of the track with the rest of the spectators cheering her on when she passed by. It’s irritating how easily she can pick him out in a crowd even in full winter gear covering his mop of ashy blonde curls and his sweet blue eyes hidden behind sunglasses. She could recognize the perfectly blinding smile even if he was masquerading as a riverbed rock like he once joked about. She shouldn’t be able to pick him out so fast, but after sneaking around the Olympic Village to be with him where no prying eyes could find them, she doubts she’ll ever erase his familiar presence from her sensory receptors. To her body and mind, he sticks out like a sore thumb.

She blushes, and is grateful for the protective mesh mask shielding her face from the achingly cold air, because her body feels his pull anywhere and responds to him with the least amount of provocation.

Katniss smiles to herself. She can’t deny she’s pleased he came to see her competing- not come across as full of herself, but who else is he here to see? She’s the only one from their selection left in this run- she likes to think, hopes really, their time together has made as deep, marked impression on him as it did on her. She was there for a couple of his events, including the night he made Silver on Curling Mixed Doubles, where he was paired with his sister-in-law, Delly Cartwright-Mellark, in his brother’s place, since the older Mellark sibling had fracture his leg in two places falling from the frozen staircase leading to their parents apartment atop their bakery back home.

The night he made his first medal was the night they celebrated without any discretion. They made out in public, drunk on his accomplishment alone, and the fireworks that exploded in his room after, where thing of legends. Of course, by the next day, everybody in their delegation had heard about them, if they didn’t witness it first hand.

Concentrating on her task at hand, she brings her rifle up to line the sight to her eye. Her finger rests comfortably on the trigger while aiming at the closest target. She inhales a calming breath and just as she shoots, the next competitor drops onto a lane two spaces away from hers, by the time Katniss is taking aim at her third target, two more athletes have arrived and chosen lanes for themselves.

She gets 4 bullseyes and one just an inch below. she’s glad all the prone shootings are behind her now, the position it’s not as accurate as standing, and it takes more time to reset for skiing. Barely registering the last target has flipped from red and white to black and white, Katniss hops to her feet, checks her skis and ambles into position to continue on to her next lap.

She’s freestyling. As she gets in her groove, she takes as deep a breath as she can. She’s calmer now somehow, but the race is not over; she still has two laps to go and one more shooting round in between before she can secure her victory.

She’s pleasantly surprised she didn’t picture Gale Hawthorne’s face as her target on this round, though. It's a good thing! It means she’s not as angry at him anymore. She’s relieved, but still scowls at the events that transpired the day after the Curling medal ceremonies.

“Are you serious, Catnip? You hooked up with that curler?” Katniss hears Gale’s angry voice in her head as she gains ground up the hill. Her heart races just as it did then, as if it was happening all over again.

“You say it like it’s a bad thing.” She had snap irritably. “As if it’s shameful or something.”

“He’s just some guy!” He practically yelled pulling his scarf off his neck and shoulders and balling it up in his fist. “You’re a serious athlete!”

“He’s as much an athlete as I am, in case you didn’t know this, I am just a girl too!” She rolled her eyes.

“You, are not, just some girl! You’re a skier. An Olympian. A Victor for fucks sakes! What are you doing with that guy?”

Her heckles rose. “For your information, Peeta is a hell of an Olympian himself. A silver medalists! A Victor, as you so obnoxiously put it.”

Gale threw his arms up in the air, scowling. He finally retorted angrily, “If you gotta fuck around, at least do it with a real winner! A gold medalist or something… but a curler?”

Katniss was furious. “Wait until the Men’s Curling events take the court. Peeta’s team will mop the ice with the rest of the other teams. They’ll wish they were the little brushes so they could experience the touch of greatness!” It was really bad form and poor sportsmanship to gloat and taunt, but she was beyond angry, defending their national Curling team to part of her own Biathlon team mate. “And even if they don’t win, I’d still be proud of Peeta and his accomplishments, and since the cat is very much out of the bag, I’d still go public with him when we return home.”

Relieving the satisfaction of walking away from a equally dumbfounded, stricken and angry Gale, would have to wait until later, the first bend of the lap was upon her.

With a shake of her head, Katniss looks up and brings herself back from her aggravating memories. Gale was way out of line, but he’s an amazing practice partner and she’d hate to lose him- training with a male biathlete has worked wonders for her times- he pushes her limits until she overcomes them. She’s faster, more aggressive and enduring thanks to her partnership with Gale, but there’s no way she can stay with him if he doesn’t get a clue soon, no matter how hard it is to find good practice partners.

She leans into position for the fast descent. Her form is graceful and perfect and soon she’s zooming across the familiar track. She mentally curses Gale again, she was so distracted relieving their argument, she didn’t take a glance at the board with the current standings or the other women in the Biathlon. Heck! She doesn’t even remember swinging her rifle back in place on her back when she left the shooting lane, nor she remembers taking her ski poles from her side. She thanks her memory muscle for acting on autopilot, because sure enough, all her equipment is exactly where they should be, and to prove it, she sinks her poles into the powdery snow to push herself forward, gaining speed.

The next shooting station is just behind the next bend, past the roped area where family, friends and other expectators are congregated. She is going too fast. She was hoping to take another peek at Peeta before her last shooting round, but the crowd was just a loud, colorful blur. For now, She has to content herself just knowing he’s out there, cheering her on.

She has to turn sideways to stop herself in front of the shooting lanes. Just like with the previous 3 rounds, she takes her position, brings her rifle up, loads the cartridge and aims, this is a standing round. She smirks, because although the target distance is larger on the final round, she’s racked up the points and has added at least two minutes to her run, and this is her favorite position and best event. The fact that she’s a much better shot than Gale Hawthorne any day of the week, has nothing to do with it… that’ll be petty. Although, she wants to see him try to match her speed. Just saying.

She tips her head from side to side, plants her feet in her shooting stance, squares her shoulders quickly relaxing them down and her eye aligns with the rifle sight. Her finger curls like a caress over the trigger. She inhales deeply.

“For the gold!” She exhales to herself.

One last thought crosses her mind: ‘I don’t need my man to make gold, I’m my own gold!’

Then she shoots.

Resets.

Shoots.

Resets.

It goes on like this until it’s over, in under 40 seconds.

She places her rifle behind her back for her last lap, all the while taking time to look at the board. Her name is in first place, by her count, she’s 33 seconds ahead of the next closest biathlete, which is enough for her, so she turns without comparing the times listed besides her name on the screen. She lowers her goggles over her eyes and pulls on her mask over her mouth and nose, and as soon as she closes her fists on her poles, she’s gone.

She crosses the finish line in a blur.

She comes to a halt hard, once she’s in front of the board and almost loses her balance. She can’t hear anything over the roar of her own blood rushing to her ears, but she can see her smirking picture on the screen, bigger than life, the number 1 next to her name, and a time of 43:34.8.

Then a couple of other women fly by and stop next to her, names and pictures pop up under hers, taking the second and third slots. Another group of skiers arrives. Then all the points from the shootings are awarded and the names on the board start scrambling and switching places, some drop a few positions, while others climb up, her name doesn’t change, but her times do. She gets 2 minutes subtracted off her skiing time, bringing her down to 41:34.8.

The next closest time is 43:05.6 including deductions, and she has no idea she’s jumping and screaming and crying all at once while pumping her fist into the air, until her pole that’s been flailing helplessly around with every shake of her arm, smacks her rifle on her back. Somebody drapes a flag around her shoulders, she has enough presence of mind to grip the edges tightly as she keeps her exuberant celebration going, until is time to take her place in the podium with her fellow medalists.

Her eyes find the face she’s looking for: Frostbitten nose and cheeks under sparkling, intense blue eyes and a smile so wide it has to be painful to its owner. He’s holding up a sign she didn’t see at first: “Katniss Shoot Straight! Your #1 Fan.”

Just then, she realizes, she has no clue about the intricacies of Curling, she knows there’s a good deal of strategizing involved, but she vows to learned all she can about the curler beaming up at her from the crowd. She’s his number one fan after all. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, Curling is cool!

#everlark ficlet #winter olympics #biathlete!Katniss #Curler!Peeta #rated g

[thoughtsofadaydreamer]

Cleaning house

(Punisher fan fiction)

Little Italy, NY. Circa 1977. New York. Americas Mafia homeland. Originating in the late 19th century long before any of us in this era even knew how to say the word “Mafia”. Growing fearsome and powerful in the 20s and 30s. Prohibition era was a goldmine for the Mafiosos. And into the 40s, 50s, 60s. Reaching their peak in the 70s. No one, not even the president could stop the Mafia in this time. At least that is until a tragic sunny day happened in the summer of ‘75. “They should have put another bullet in my skull.” Castle thinks to himself. Sitting patiently inside of his black van. He stares off into the distance towards the front of a convenience store. “Tricanni’s” the building reads. Frank Castle was the victim of an attempted murder on his life. Still alive to remember the day, he truly died when his wife and 2 kids werent so lucky. Slain by the mob on what was meant to be a picnic day at the park. After discovering a mob hit, the Castle family were to be killed for the witnessing. When Frank arose from death, with no help from the crooked police department, he began a one man war against the cities underworld. After 2 years, Frank is digging deeper and deeper into the mob. Chipping away for the past 2 years to get to the higher ups.

Dominic Tricanni was a Caporegime (captain) for the Gnucci (pro. NEW-CHEE) crime family. The same organization responsible for the death of Franks family. Tricanni being his last lead on the whereabouts of Ma Gnucci after she went into hiding. Ma Gnucci was the wife of Don Vittorio Gnucci. When the Don died, his widow decided to take his place of power. Something never before seen until her time. Ruling the crime family with her hand practically on everyones balls. A real mean old bitch as many of her own associates consider her. Castle originally planned on attacking each of the capo’s crews to break down the family section by section. But when Ma Gnucci decided to lay low, Castles only way of finding out her location is through the last captain still breathing. This is where Tricanni comes in. Frank waits outside for another 10 minutes. Only looking away for a millisecond to check his watch every now and again. Once the lights go out in the building, Frank gears up. He throws his leather trenchcoat over his white skull kevlar and makes his way across the street.

Tricanni’s was a typical NYC business building. Store on the bottom, apartments on top. He knew thats where the mob run establishment counted profits through the fronts. The place where you buy a loaf of bread, some milk, maybe some snacks, smokes, beer, and a package of God knows what if you ask for the right people. Understand? However much money was made through the packages, was moved upstairs. So the building had to have wiseguys with guns throughout the building. Frank taps on the glass of the door, holding his head down as the man behind the counter peeks out. Castle sticks up his middle finger yelling the words “Fuck you, you fucking guinea pricks!” The man dashes out through the door “I TOLD YOU LITTLE BASTARDS TO STOP COMI-“ the man stops and looks around an empty street. Feeling alone. Until 2 man hands grip under his chin and on top of his cranium. Twisting with a loud violent crunch. He drops dead weight into Castles arms, dragging him into the store. Dumping him off behind the counter. Castle searches his body and discovers a Colt. 1911. Checking the chamber for a round. “Full clip” he mutters to himself. Holstering the weapon down the front of his belt. His boots silently stepping through the door to the stairway. He listens. “HAHAHAHA!!!” Laughter coming from upstairs. He follows the sound of humorous covervastion until he spots 2 more waiting around the next corner. “Ay, so how was that slut you took home last night?” One asks the other. Castle eases up the stairs hugging the wall close with his back, listening. “Yo i think you were right about’er....been itchin’ all day. Fuck!” The 2 men laugh hysterically, castles lip snarls at the sound of the 2 mobsters. He listens for footsteps. Trying to pinpoint how they move.

Planning his next move, he unholsters one of his own pistols. An all black enhanced 1911 .45. Loaded with armor piercing rounds. He begins to twist a silencer on the handgun as one of the pair speaks, “you hear about Freddy?” Then the other, “All i know is hes dead, why?” The conversation continues. “I mean how he died. Cops and news reporters saying its the punisher. I believe ‘em.” Castle almost smiles as he peeks around the corner ever so slightly. “Ahhh fuck Castle. If i see ‘em ill have ‘em carrying his heart in a fuckin’ doggy bag.” Castle makes his move while their guards are down. “Nows your chance.” He mutters to them, standing below the staircase. Before the men could draw their weapons Castle unloads 2 rounds into their heads. The bodies drop with the shell casings. The wall behind them painted with blood and brain. “Whoops, too slow.” He jokes as he steps past the bodies. Meanwhile on the 3rd floor, Dominic Tricanni discusses bullshit talk while he counts his earnings. “So far its 15 G’s Dom.” One of his associates speaks up. “Not bad, not bad at all.” Tricanni replies. His face a little aged. Like an old war veteran who was the grease monkey cook of the platoon but could fight. Which he could. Tricanni used to be an amateur boxer on the streets of Jersey. Eventually being hired by Don Vittorio Gnucci himself as a source of income. Over time he became a small time enforcer on the side before choosing to work full time for the mob. Rising through the ranks and being granted his own crew in NY. A foul mouthed, tough Italiano with a love for money and a good fight. “This stays between us. Ma wants 10% of every take. Well we gonna give her what she THINKS is 10%. Tell her maybe business was slow this week. Not alot of customers. Capiche?” The others nod and reply, “Capiche”. Flicking cigarettes and downing scotch. “That bitch gets on my nerves.” Tricanni states. One cracks a joke, “Maybe shes a bitch because ever since Vito died, she hasnt been getting...properly pampered? If you know what i mean?” They chuckle as another pokes fun, “yeah Dom why dont you dust her off and take her for a spin y’know? Take one for the team huh?” Dominic laughs then responds, “I wouldnt fuck her with YOUR little pee shooter Ralphy.” They laugh, oblivious to the trouble approaching. Outside the room, Castle covers the mouth of another mobster. As his knife calmly slices across the adams apple of the man. The sound of muffled choking and blood curdling fills the vigilantes ears. Watching the door in case he is too audible. More laughter is heard as Frank drops the body. Snagging a sawed off shotgun from the dead mans grip. He holsters the shotgun to unscrew the silencer from his pistol. “Gonna have to get loud.” He thinks to himself. He currently wields both weapons, standing in front of the apartment door. He knocks on the door, waiting to hear the footsteps get closer. He hears whistling from behind the door signaling a cue for his next move. “BOOM!”

The mobster goes stumbling back, leaving a large hole in the door from the sawed off. “WHAT THE FU-! [BOOM!]” the last round from the shotgun bursts through the door. Enough to send the gangsters back falling to the floor. Castle spartan kicks the door with his large heavy combat boots. Breaking it off the hinges. Dropping the sawed off and equipping his secondary pistol. “BAM! BAM!” Headshots. 2 mobsters rise from behind the table, greeted with .45 caliber rounds to the cranium. Tricanni, still down, is painted with his mens blood. From the kitchen another spawns “HEY!!! ITS CASTLE!!!” Castle twists his head to the left. Just as the gangster pulls the trigger on his Micro smg. Machine gun fire sprays the room as Frank jump into the bedroom. Landing on his side. Bullet holes spawn as the mobster continues to unload his clip. Sending glass and drywall pieces all over the bedroom. Castle sends a few rounds through the wall in return. He notices a change in the scenario. The shots change place, now being shot from the right instead of the left. Frank follows up with gunfire of his own. Popping off the rest of the clip into the wall as a distraction before “BAM!” He lets off one last round just as the mobster was changing positions. Killing him. Tricanni sees this and attempts to run. “BAM! BAM!” Castle puts 2 in Tricannis leg. The Mob captain screams in agonizing pain as he attempts to crawl. But Frank beats him to it. And grabs him by his foot. Dragging him to the kitchen.

Tricanni sits handcuffed in a dining room chair. Dripping blood from his leg wounds. “What do you want with me Castle?” Frank stares him down, silent. Pulling up a chair seating himself directly in front of Dominic. “You want to know where Ma is!? Is that it? Well fuck you! I hate that old cunt just as much as you but ill be damned if i cooperate with you!” Frank doesnt break his cold stare. Keeping eye contact. Suddenly Tricanni feels a jolt of excruciating pain sent up his thigh and all over his leg. Frank has stuck his finger inside his bullet wound. “I think we need to try that again.” His voice gruff and dark. Like death itself if it could talk. Tricanni grits his teeth, holding back any screams as best as he can. Frank hooks his finger making Tricanni tear up and jolt around. “Where...is...Ma...Gnucci?” Tricanni breathes heavy but doesnt scream or give in. “I admire your pain tolerance. I wont take away your strength, ill give you that. But Tricanni either you give me an address or i plant a third one in your leg and play bowling. Now tell me....” he cocks his pistol and aims below the 2 bullet wounds. Suddenly, his home phone rings. Frank looks at Tricanni and stands. “No running off.” He walks over and picks up the phone as a woman speaks. Tricanni watches as Castle writes down on a napkin. He hangs up after a few minutes and washes his hands of blood. Tricanni pants as he speaks up “s-so what now?” Castle stops and looks down at Dominic “Now?” He raises his arm “(click) BAM!” Tricanni’s brains coat over the kitchen counter. “You give the devil my regards.”

As Castle walks back down into the convenience store the phone behind the counter rings. Frank ponders but then decides to answer. “Is this Tricanni’s?” Frank almost chuckles “It was...” he thinks to himself. “Yes” he answers. The man on the phone continues on. “Tell him ill be back by to pick up my package i ordered. Is tomorrow a good time?” Frank looks outside for any company. “Not a good idea. Tricanni’s is kind of going out of business after tonight and will be discontinuing any service to the public. Sorry for the inconvenience.” He hangs up and walks out into the New York streets back to his van. Checking the napkin he wrote on. “Rochester-3:00 p.m.-brick house few blocks from hospital. Tuesday.” He folds it up and starts the van. “Nothing like a little spring cleaning to make you feel like a new man.” He smirks to himself as he drives through the dark lonely streets.

#the punisher #marvel fandom #marvel fanfic series #punisher fan fiction #fanfic #frank castle

[embracetheapocalypsewithme]

Cursed Land, Part 4: The Abyss

This is the fourth and final part of my contribution to @ladylorelitanyfanfiction‘s Monster Mash Challenge.

Part 1: The Black Box

Part 2: September

Part 3: The Call of the Void

Summary: Rebecca reads the final series of entries detailing Negan’s last days in Falling Creek. What happened to his companions? How did he make it out alive?

Word Count: 3,418

Warnings: Language, horror, paranormal shit, murder, violence. Not for the faint of heart.

Part 4: The Abyss

October 15

Alan is dead.

We found him early this morning near the edge of the woods, close to the church. His throat had been ripped out and he’d been partially eaten. He had been dead long enough to reanimate, so it must have happened late last night or early this morning. David put him down.

Was it a dead fuck that did it? Being partially eaten fits their fucking m.o…but I can’t stop thinking about what he told me yesterday. He said that his grandmother had been here in the 40s and that when they found the town’s residents the next spring; everyone had been eaten then too. By the…thing…that I can’t even bring myself to fucking write down now. No dead fucks around back then…

Add to that the fact that we haven’t even seen a fucking stiff around here in weeks, and it looks really fucking weird…

But we can smell them. It never goes away now. And you never get used to the smell.

Fuck. I don’t know what to think or even say anymore. I’ve been holed up in this room, away from everyone for most of the day, trying to decide what to do.

I can’t imagine that any one of us did this – it’s too fucking gruesome to think about. But what if something happened? What if he got into a fight with someone? I’m trying to think if I heard or saw anything last night after he started to pack. I know Gail and David asked him what he was doing. I don’t think he answered.

I remember a dream I had last night about wind whistling through the trees. It was so loud and fucking persistent, like an alarm. At least, I think it was a dream.

It’s too late to leave today, even if I wanted to go.

I’ll sleep on it and decide tomorrow morning.

Dead fuck count: 1. Fuck.

October 17

It’s really fucking early in the morning. I didn’t leave yesterday. Things were too fucked to even prepare to consider it.

I haven’t slept. I don’t feel like I’ll ever fucking sleep again…

Mary went off the deep end when we told her about Alan. I’ve never seen anyone act that way before. She started screaming and crying and hyperventilating. It was awful shit.

David and I tried to calm her down while Max ran off to get away from the screaming. Can’t say that I blame the kid. I wish I could have followed suit. I’ll never forget the sounds she made. It was like something broke in her.

Gail just walked away and laid in her bed with her back to us. Fucking selfish bitch hasn’t done anything for anyone since she got back from her last jaunt to the woods. Guess she figures that she’s paid her dues so Dave and I get to deal with this fucking clusterfuck.

Jesus, what the fuck happened to her out there to make her into such a selfish prick?

Eventually we got Mary quieted down and put the poor kid in bed. She was just shaking under the covers. Her skin felt cold as ice, but she was sweating enough to soak the blankets.

She locked eyes with me and whispered something really low. I almost couldn’t make it out, but I think she said, “He found me.”

I got close to her then and asked her what she said, and she just stared at me for a minute. Her eyes were so dark and sad.

I asked her again.

When she answered, there was no doubt about what she said. Her voice steadied and got a little louder, “He’s coming.”

“Who’s coming, sweetheart?” David asked, and his eyes started to dart around the room.

“The one from the woods,” she said and paused for a second, “The one who took my parents and my brother. The one who devours us.”

Her voice was so sad and wavering now; I could tell she was about to lose it again.

“You mean the walkers?” David asked, “Is that what happened to you? They killed your parents? Mary, I’m so-“

“No,” she said, cutting off his condolences, “He’s different. He knows things. He’s smarter than them. He’s smarter than us. And he’s coming. We’re all going to die here. Like Alan. Like my parents. These are his woods.”

Then she laid her head back on the pillow and closed her eyes. We tried to wake her up, but she was out of it. Shaking and cold. I don’t know if she’s going to make it.

I’ve been watching her ever since. Just sitting across the room, hoping she comes out of it. It feels like being with Lucille in the hospital again. I need to stay here for her, even though I know the smart thing to do would be to walk out the fucking door and take my chances in the woods.

I’m going to try to talk to Gail about it in the morning. Maybe she’ll have an idea about what to do, if I can help her dig her head out of her own ass.

Dead fuck sighting: 0

October 17 (part 2)

When it rains it fucking pours, don’t it?

Max is gone. No one seems to have a fucking clue where he is, and Gail won’t even get off her lazy ass to help David and I look for him. (If it doesn’t involve eating her precious boar meat or sleeping, she doesn’t seem to care)

He’s usually up before anyone in the mornings, but today everyone was out of bed and there was no sign of him. We checked the place he usually sleeps and it was empty. No one saw him leave.

The kid probably got spooked by all of Mary’s screaming and went to hide somewhere in the town. I can’t imagine he went to the woods. There’s no way. At least, I hope to fuck he didn’t.

David and I are taking turns watching Mary (the poor girl’s still out of it, but is hanging on) and searching through the other buildings for Max. I don’t like splitting up like this, but there’s nothing else we can do.

I hope the kid’s all right, and I hope Mary snaps out of it soon so we can haul ass out of here. I don’t care what Gail says at this point. We’re putting Falling Creek as far behind us as we can, as soon as we can.

Dead fuck sightings: 0…and hopefully it’ll stay that way.

October 18

It’s early in the morning. The sun’s just about to start streaming through the trees so I’d guess 7 or 8am maybe? Who fucking knows. I feel like I haven’t slept in years.

I spent most of the evening yesterday looking for Max, but there was no trace of him. At this point, we’ve been through every building in the town at least once. David went out last night and he’s due back any time now.

Once he’s here we’ll eat and re-group.

October 18 (part 2)

David’s not back yet, and I’m not optimistic that he will be. Its mid-afternoon and everything outside of this building is so fucking quiet. I can’t remember when I heard him calling for Max last. It was still dark out in any case, so it was probably hours ago.

Mary’s dead to the world. Maybe she’s just dead for real, and I haven’t noticed yet.

I tried talking to Gail about what we should do. Should we leave Mary and go look for David and Max? Can she watch Mary while I go?

Seems like she doesn’t fucking speak anymore. She’s just sitting in the corner with her knees tucked up to her chest, staring at me. Her eyes remind me of a fucking predatory animal locked in a zoo. She looks like she’s waiting for something.

Every once in a while I hear her make a kind of groaning noise, but that’s it. It doesn’t sound like she’s in pain. It almost sounds….I don’t know? Impatient? Something like that.

I don’t know if I like how she’s looking at me. And I don’t want to leave her and Mary alone together either, so I guess I’m stuck here.

October 18 (part 3)

The wind is crazy outside. It feels like it’s going to rip the house down, and  the whistling sound it makes is just fucking incessant. It almost sounds like the woods are alive. Who fucking knows? Maybe they are.

I think I fell asleep or passed out or something. Figures since I haven’t fucking slept more than an hour in the last few days.

I don’t know if it was the wind or Gail that woke me up, to be honest.

When I opened my eyes she was really close to me, and it scared the shit out of me how close she had gotten before I noticed. When my eyes opened, she kind of shrank back a bit. But her eyes were still digging into me. She doesn’t look out of it like Mary does. There’s something intelligent still in there; something fucking…processing…or something? Planning, maybe?

What the fuck was she doing? And what the fuck would she have done if I hadn’t noticed her?

David and Max are still gone. Mary is still in her bed. I need to get out of here soon. I don’t know if I can wait for the poor girl to wake up. I don’t want to leave her. Not like this, and not with Gail…

Maybe I can talk some sense into Gail and get her to snap the fuck out of this state she’s in?

Even now I can hear her groaning as she watches me. It’s even louder than before. I feel like the combination of that and the whistling outside is going to drive me fucking insane soon.

Written on the back of the previous entry in thick, dark lines:

He has come.

We will live inside him now.

In the earth.

In the trees.

Forever.

October 20

I’m so sorry for what I had to do. I hope that God doesn’t exist because if he does, I’ll have to answer for the past 24 hours of my life someday. I’m sure of it.

I did what I had to do to survive. Though I’m not so sure that I’m much better off than the ones who didn’t make it…I passed out again after the last entry. It’d been so long since I had slept that I went out hard and fast.

I only came to when I heard the screams.

What I saw, I don’t think I will ever get out of my head for the rest of my life. It was dark, but I could make out just enough of what was going on…

Gail was on top of Mary. She was straddling her as the poor thing lay in bed defenseless and weak. Gail’s back was to me and I could see her arms raising and lowering down to Mary’s chest.

For a split second it looked like she was giving her CPR or something. Trying to revive her maybe…but they were both screaming. Mary in fear, and Gail in kind of a growling rage. Then I saw the blood and the knife in Gail’s hands and I knew…

She was stabbing Mary. Not in the way that someone puts down a walker, or even someone they are defending themselves against. She was stabbing the girl like she was her mortal fucking enemy.

Then, after a while, Mary stopped screaming, and I knew she was gone. And Gail kept going and her screams were becoming moans now. It was like she was enjoying the kill. She lurched forward, toward Mary’s face and I swear to fuck she bit her. She bit her and ate the piece she took and I could hear her growl like a fucking animal while she ate it.

I don’t know exactly what happened after that. I remember getting up and I was filled with the rage now too. How the fuck can someone kill someone as defenseless as Mary was, lying in bed on the brink of death anyway? The girl had hours left to live and you took it upon yourself to fucking murder her anyway.

I know I pulled Gail off of her and I think I threw her across the room. I’ve never put my hands on a woman like that before, but I couldn’t think straight. The fear and the disgust were so strong that I could taste the blood in my mouth somehow.

I just started hitting her over and over. And she was fucking laughing while I did it. Her face was so gleeful, like she had just won the motherfucking lottery. My fists just kept going, trying to obliterate that fucking smile on her face. Trying to make the laughing stop.

I don’t remember anything else until the woods.

I woke up and I was walking and my hands were raw. I was covered in blood and I was alone. No supplies. Nothing but the clothing I was wearing when I passed out.

I’ve been walking ever since, until this moment. There’s nothing left to do. The sun is setting and I need to stop for the night. I thought I would at least write this in case I don’t make it.

October 21

I found Max. He was wandering alone in the woods. Still wearing his fucking jammies from the night he went missing.

Of course he was gone. Several days gone by the look of him. I put him down and made sure he wasn’t suffering as one of the dead fucks anymore. I can’t write about the condition he was in. It huts too much to think about it.

I don’t know if I can live through this. I don’t know if I want to live through this. I just keep walking through the woods. There’s nothing left to do now but walk until my body gives out.

Sometimes while I walk, I hear something moving along-side me in the trees, just far enough away to not be seen. I never look for it. I feel like I know what I’d find if I turned my head toward the sound. And I don’t know that I want to see.

There’s nothing more I can say.

If it kills me, it kills me. Who fucking cares at this point?

Who wants to be in a world where the weak are murdered and eaten, and the strong either do the killing or sit on their asses until it’s too late to help?

October 22

The woods ended this afternoon. I came out on a highway. I’m going to follow it for a while and see where it takes me. I want to be as far away from these woods as I can. I’m not the praying type, but I pray that I never see this place again. And I pray that whatever is in these woods doesn’t follow me.

I should burn this book.

“But you didn’t burn it…” Rebecca murmured to herself, still sitting before the huge windows of Negan’s office. The sun had just started to paint the sky a faint violet, and she shuddered remembering her partner’s entries about his final sleepless nights in Falling Creek.

“No. I didn’t,” came the flat response from behind her.

Rebecca whirled around in shock. How had he managed to get into the room without her hearing?

Negan sat on the couch that took up residence in the middle of the room. His posture was relaxed with his arms outstretched across the back of the piece of furniture and his legs crossed.

“How the fuck-“ she started, but was cut off.

“I’ve been a light fucking sleeper ever since Falling Creek. Can you fucking blame me?”

“I can’t,” she paused, “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” he stood with a grunt, “I want to be fucking pissed at you, to tell you the truth. Wanna scream and get in your face for sneaking around and reading my motherfucking private shit. But do you know what I’m mostly feeling at the moment, Fuckface?

He took a step toward her.

“No.”

He took another step.

“I feel relieved. I’ve carried that story alone for so long. No one else knows, besides you and me, as far as I know. No one but me left Falling Creek.”

“You never found David or Gail? You’re sure that they’re-“

“Dead? I don’t. Not for sure. I suspect that David is dead. And I suspect that I killed Gail, even though I have no fucking recollection of it. But I don’t know for sure,” he paused for a moment and then continued, “I sent a team of scouts there once in the early days. They were a group of fucking assholes that I wanted to get rid of. Fuckers were harassing the women and some of the older teen girls. Fucking disgusted me, so I figured: what the fuck! Either they come back with news, or whatever lives in those woods takes them.”

“And?”

“They never came back. Probably they got swarmed by dead fucks before they got within miles of the place. But maybe not. Maybe they made it there. Who fucking cares?”

“I think you do. You care about what happened there. You want to know.”

“Maybe you’re right. But I’ll never find out. Falling Creek is a dead zone. No one goes into those woods; not any of my people. Not anymore. If you piss me off, I’ll send you to an outpost or just fucking kill you, but I won’t send you there.”

“Why? What changed your mind after the first group you sent?”

He shrugged and looked like he might not answer at all, but then seemed to think better of it, “Turn to the last page of the book.”

Rebecca gingerly picked the notebook up from the desk and held it as though it were a live grenade. She did as she was told and flipped the book over, opening the back cover. She read:

March 30

We found the factory a few weeks ago. I’m going to try writing again. I don’t even know fucking why. I mean, the last time went so fucking well for me…

April 29

I’ve been bad at writing this shit. Too busy actually leading a fucking community. Who cares about documenting the end of the world anymore? I just care about surviving and building now. Getting what’s mine and protecting my people.

Speaking of which, Frank and his merry band of assholes are really pissing me off. Fucking scumbags are harassing literally anything with tits and a pulse at this point. And since I just can’t leave well enough alone, I think it’s time that I sent an expedition out to Falling Creek.

They leave in the morning.

May 1

I dreamed about Alan last night. It’s the first time I’ve dreamed about Falling Creek since I left.

We were back in the church again. He was still holding his flashlight and everything looked just how I remembered it from the night he showed me the drawing. Except for one thing, and I’m shaking thinking about it.

I looked at the wall and it wasn’t the same picture as before. Now it looked more like me.

Fuck it. It was me. I’m sure it was.

I turned back to Alan to ask him what made the drawing change, and when I did he was looking right at me. His eyes were pure white like the dead fucks, and I watched his skin slowly begin to rot on his body.

But as it did, he spoke:

“He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you.”

I woke up screaming.

This is over.

Fuck Falling Creek. Fuck Gail. Fuck whatever is in those woods.

Alan was right: It’s not for me to understand.

I don’t know what was in those woods with us. I don’t know if it was his monster, or just plan, old-fashioned human evil. But I never want to experience it again.

I’m taking my fucking eyes off of the abyss. Falling Creek is a dead zone.

#comicnegan> #negan #twd #twd fanfiction #Negan's thirst squad

[geebabie]

◁ do you love me? ▷

𝓟𝓪𝓲𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰: Kim Seokjin X Reader

𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓭 𝓬𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓽: 2.2k

𝓖𝓮𝓷𝓻𝓮: angst, smut (kinda), fluff

𝓦𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓼: cursing, argument, on the border of ‘implied sexual content’ and ‘smut’.

𝓟𝓻𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓽𝓼:  “Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it.” -- “And when you’re not around I keep thinking I might cry.” -- “I made breakfast, but I didn’t know what you liked so I made enough to probably feed a small tribe.”

𝓢𝓾𝓶𝓶𝓪𝓻𝔂: ❝Jin hasn’t seen Y/N in 10 days and she decides to confront him about it.❞

10 days. It has been 10 whole days since Y/N and Jin last saw each other in person. They had FaceTimed a couple of times during these 10 days and even Skyped once when FaceTime was particularly finicky. But they hadn’t gotten together. They hadn’t been dating very long. 5 months. Which felt like an eternity to Jin who had never been able to keep a relationship whether that be for personal reasons of because his career wouldn’t allow it. 5 months to him was like a decade to most ‘normal’ people. This fact alone only emphasized how long 10 days apart was. In ‘Jin time’, they had spent 250 days apart. Now Y/N knew very well that ‘Jin time’ was a very unstable unit of measurement with little to no scientific backing. However, she had nothing better to do while waiting for him to call her beside create a measurement system named after her boyfriend. She also figured out that there are 6 normal minutes in a ‘Jin minute’. Her source is how often he said he felt like he was on stage for 30 minutes when it had been 3 hours. 

 It had been 60 ‘Jin Minutes’ (how many ‘Jin minutes’ in a ‘Jin hour’ is still unknown) since he had texted her.

 6 hours. She quickly decided the Jin Measurement System is a waste of time, but aren’t all distractions.

 Y/N knew very well that Jin wasn’t busy. Or at least he didn’t need to be. There were no performances coming up, no album deadlines, no birthdays, no holidays, no meetings about an upcoming collaboration. He should be completely free to text his girlfriend. The woman he claims to love so dearly. But he hadn’t made her phone light up with a notification since a ‘morning’ text at 9:30 AM. Which, in overthinking, Y/N noticed was an hour and a half later than her usual text from him. And Jin was a man of routine. As much as one could be in his hectic lifestyle.

 Also, departing from the usual ‘good morning my love, I miss you so much, have a good day’ template was today’s text that simply said ‘morning’. Y/N can hardly remember receiving one-word texts from Jin. She’d even get two or three words when she was letting him know she arrived at his apartment. 

 Something was very, very wrong.

 And Y/N was determined to find out what it was. Now, she knew, somewhere in her panicked mind, that she couldn’t just show up to his apartment. She also knew there was a chance he wasn’t even there. As much as she would’ve loved to storm in and yell at him, the security guards still weren’t 100% comfortable just letting her come and go as she pleased to the superstar’s apartment. So what was she supposed to do? Let him come to her? Absolutely not, it’s been 10 days of waiting for him to come to her. She needs to take action soon.

 [9:23 PM] Y/N: we need to talk

 Okay, now Y/N knew Jin would probably have a minor cardiac event reading the text every person regrets getting. But she also believed it was well deserved.

 READ 9:26 PM

 Y/N stared at her phone screen until it had dimmed just staring at the read receipt until, right before her phone screen went completely black, it lights up again.

 [9:29 PM] Jin: come over?

 This isn’t exactly the preferred method of finally getting to see your boyfriend after 10 days of him being less than 20 minutes away at all times. But it’ll do.

 [9:30 PM] Y/N: i’ll be there in 15.

 It only took 10 minutes before Y/N was parking in Jin’s reserved guest parking space. She’s not sure if traffic was unexpectedly fast or if she had been speeding. But at 9:40 she was knocking on Jin’s door and she had hardly removed her hand before he opened. “Hey, long time, no see.” He smiled as he let her in, she could tell he was freaking out inside and her moving past him without a word, hug, or a kiss and just setting her purse down on his coffee table was not soothing his nerves. He felt like he was waiting for the Grammy Nominations.

 “W-what do we need to talk about?” Jin asked, remembering some breathing exercises he had learned, not knowing Y/N was doing the same.

 “I haven’t seen you in over a week, Jin.” She starts, taking a deep breath before continuing. “You’ve hardly texted me or called me and that’s not...that’s not what usually happens.”

 Jin sighs, a weird sense of relief that she didn’t outright start with needing to break up. “I’ve been busy.” He decides on his usual excuse, the one he gives anyone and everyone when someone like this happens.

 “Don’t lie to me.”

 “It’s not--”

 “I know what you have to do. You’re not prepping anything. This is practically a vacation compared to a month ago. Don’t insult me by lying to me.”

 “Baby, you know I wouldn’t purposefully ignore you. I love you so m--”

 “Do you?” She cuts him off, staring into his eyes looking for any clue to his feelings.

 “Do I what?” He had hoped she wasn’t asking what he thought she was asking.

 “Do you love me? Don’t tell me you love me unless you mean it.” 

 “Of course I mean it!” Jin raised his voice, the noise even scaring him slightly. “Of course I love you, are you insane, Y/N?”

 “Don’t yell at me, Jin.” Y/N tried to keep composure, the last thing she wanted was a screaming match and the possibility of neighbors hearing and who knew what they’d do.

 “You just accused me of not loving you! Of course, I’m going to yell! I’m upset!”

 “Discuss it like an adult and calm down.” She could feel herself getting heated as she spoke.

 “Like an adult? Like an adult! Do adults come in without even saying hello and accuse each other of lying about their love? I don’t think that was very--”

 “Because you don’t show it!” Y/N yelled, cutting him off. Jin stayed silent, letting her continue. “People in love don’t practically ignore their significant other for a week and a half. People in love don’t leave the person they love waiting for a text for hours on end and going to sleep at night wondering what the hell they’re doing. That’s not what love is, Jin.” Tears line her lower lashes as she speaks. “You can’t just throw me away when you don’t want to deal with me anymore.”

 “That’s not--that’s not it, Y/N. I love you, I love you so much. You know that.”

 “You don’t love me! You don’t fucking love me, you only love me when it’s convenient to love me and s--” Jin pressed his lips to her own, cupping her face in his hands.

 “Don’t say that again.” He mumbles when he separates from her. “Don’t ever say that I don’t love you.” Y/N wraps her arms behind his neck, pulling him into another kiss. “Did you start this argument so I’d fuck you?” Jin wraps his arms under her legs and picks her up on his waist.

 “Baby, I--”

 “I think you did.” He starts moving to his bedroom, surprising himself that he didn’t bump into anything. “I think you just wanted to make me angry.” He lets her down on the bed, rather harshly before climbing on top of her. “Wanted me to fuck the hell out of you, so you decided to say this dumb shit, huh?”

 “Jin…” She nearly moans his name as his hands rub up and down her thighs. 

 “Tell me, baby,” he pulls his shirt over his head, leaning back on his knees, “tell me what you want.” He unbuckles his belt, the metal hitting the floor with a loud noise.

 “Please, baby.” Y/N reaches out to touch him, sitting up slightly before Jin uses one hand to push her back down flat on the bed.

 “Use your words. You seemed to have so many trying to fight with me. Go on.” With one hand holding her down, gently grazing her collarbone, Jin starts tugging her pants down her body.

 “I want you to fuck me.” She says, voice breathy, she’s not sure she’s ever seen the look in his eyes before.

 “Good girl.” He smirked, removing his hand from her to pull her shirt off. “No bra and this sorry excuse for panties.” Jin messes with the waistband of a thin cotton pair of underwear. Y/N isn’t sure if Jin was that angry or is always so strong, but in one smooth motion he ripped the fabric off of her and she was surprised she didn’t cum from that alone. “I’m gonna give you what you want baby, give you everything you want ‘cause I love you so much.” He tells her.

 And he does give her everything she could ever want.

 His hands roaming her body, placing kisses everywhere he can reach as she whimpers and gasps for him. His own low groans and deep grumbles harmonizing. He watches how she comes undone for him, the same way she does every time. And he always watches with the same admiration and finishes soon after.

 Both panting, looking longingly into her eyes, Jin moves to lay on his back. He beckons her to lay next to him. Holding her close, her head resting right above his heart. “I love you.” He tells her, voice soft.

 “I love you too.” She whispers.

 “I love you more than you’ll ever know. And it scared me.” He sighs, she looks up at him as best she can in her position. “That’s why I was ignoring you. I was scared, so was scared of not being enough, my career dragging me away or pulling you away. I’ve never been in love before.”

 “Jin, I…” She falls just short of finding the right words.

 “You mean so much to me. I realized it so much more when I went on that week-long promo. I realized how much you keep me grounded and when you’re not around I keep thinking I might cry. That’s how much you mean to me.”

 “I’m sorry.” She says, sitting up to look into his eyes. “I’m sorry for accusing you of not loving me. I was scared too. You’ll always be enough for me, Seokjin. I promise.” She lightly kisses his lips.

 “How about we turn in early, okay?” He suggested and Y/N nodded, laying back on his chest as he pulled the covers up over her. 

 --

 Y/N wakes up to sizzling. A sound she’s not used to hearing in the morning. She looks around to see the bed empty and clothes still discarded on the floor. She lightly laughs at herself when she remembers the night prior. She can’t quite make out what the clock in the corner of the room says and she realizes she left her phone in her purse. Which is still in the living room. She stands with a stretch and pulls on Jin’s shirt. Her panties lay in a pile of fabric on the floor. She sighs at the loss but knows Jin will find himself “making up for it” by buying her a lot more even though it’s mostly an excuse for her to try them on for him.

 “You’re awake! Good morning, love!” Jin greets her, sleep still in her eyes as she walks into the kitchen. Her boyfriend wearing only a pair of sweatpants as he stands at the oven. “I made breakfast, but I didn’t know what you liked so I made enough to probably feed a small tribe.” He motions toward the vast array of food selections. Y/N giggles at the effort he’s gone to at 8 in the morning.

 “I’m sure the boys will enjoy the leftovers.”

 “I’m sure, but I’m not going to see them today.”

 “Oh?” She raises an eyebrow as she goes to check her phone.

 “I’m going to spend the whole day with you, I’m yours all day long. No meetings, no recordings, no dinner with the boys. I’m all yours!” Everything about his body and tone says pure happiness.

 “You didn’t need to do--”

 “Aish! Don’t finish that thought. I want to spend time with my girl, I haven’t shown her I love her and I plan to. So think about what you want to do, baby.”

 “Well, there is that new exhibit at the zoo.” She muses.

 “Perfect! Now sit and eat, I’m almost finished with the pancakes!” Jin demanded, pointing at an empty chair with his spatula. As she gets comfortable, Jin lays the last warm, fluffy pancake onto the plate and softly kisses her forehead. “Tell me about this exhibit?” He asked and she was soon rambling on and the light in his eyes never dulled as he listened to her.

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts reaction #bts scenario #btswriterscollective #bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagine #bts fan fic #my writing

[queennicoleinboots]

Day 23 of Xara and Peter's Curse: Peter is still two-dimensional and involuntarily smiling. At least his curls have returned for a moment before electricity caused them to spike up again, and he was able to get the size 20 boots off of himself.

Day 24 of Xara's and Peter's Curse: Spam phone calls fuck up their day (more detail on Day 26). Peter redoes his artwork and beats his head with a pencil.

Day 25 of Xara's and Peter's Curse: Joebear's ankles hurt, and Xara is mad at almost everything most of the time. Peter still has an involuntary smile plastered on his face at all times and is two-dimensional. The good news is, his curls are thinking about returning.

Day 26 of Xara's and Peter's Curse: Don't Wake Your Bear and Bring Him To Work With You

Joebear and I were tired. We were up until 5:30 a.m. researching the world and trolling humanity. We were still trying to figure out why Jasper was worthy of Thor's Hammer. We had a difficult time falling asleep.

The worst part was that we woke up at 10 a.m. to our alarm clock sounding like a ratty bird saying 'Bright and Early! Bright and Early!' to deal with the IRS. Their website was messed up when Joebear and I tried to file our Sales Use taxes. So, we had to call the Department of Revenue and Secretary of State.

Joebear growled as he saw the head of the Secretary of State's punchable face. "Oh God, get the fuck out of here. I don't give a fuck about you or who you are. You take our money and then expect more. What do you do? What do you do for us? Nothing. Here's how fucked up you are! You take our money and then expect us to respect you because you have some artificial title in some arbitrary office. No. I don't respect you. Get the fuck out of here. I just want to pay you and go about my way. Fucking asshole."

I wasn't fully functioning yet, so I was slaphappy and laughing. "I bet he gets up bright and early," I said while giggling.

"Yeah, he does, fucking faggot," Joe said as he went to the website. "Ugh where do I go to pay you?"

We looked around the website and couldn't find where to pay these Jewish asswipes.

"All right! I give up! I'm calling the Secretary of State," Joebear said. "You speak."

"What do I say?" I asked.

"I am trying to pay my Sales Use Tax via Internet, and I can't find the link. I just changed my business name. Did that have anything to do with it?" he said.

"Okay, honey," I said.

Some ass-clap music was going on on the fucking phone. We were waiting for some drone to answer the phone so we could pay the IRS. In reality, we just needed to file with the Department of Revenue, but this whole thing is hogwash, so I use the IRS, Secretary of State, and Department of Revenue interchangeably. They are assholes, so I don't give a fuck. The ass-clap music haunted us for five minutes before some black bitch answered the phone.

"Hey. What up? I tryna pay my Sales Use Tax on da web, and I just can't fiiiind the link. I just done changed my business name. Did at have anything to do wit it?"

"Nah. You called da wrong damn number," the black bitch said.

Joebear is beating his head with his paw. He was whispering, "No the fuck we didn't. Tell her we need help with the website to pay the Sales Use Tax."

"No I done didn't. I need help on the web to pay my Sales Abuse tax. I done changed my name. Can't find the website," I said.

"You ain't supposed to call us. Call the Department of Revenue," the black bitch said.

"You got they number?" I asked.

"No," the black bitch said and hung up.

"That was some ignorant shit," Joebear said before he dialed another number.

This time, a white lady answered the phone.

"Hello. How are you? I am trying to pay my Sales Use Tax via Internet, and I can't find the link. I just changed my business name. Did that have anything to do with it?"

"I'm good. Sure, I'll help you. What website are you on?" she asked.

"IceIceBaeBae.com," I answered.

"Oh no! That's wrong. You should be under IceIceBaeBear.com," she said.

Joebear went to that website and saw where to file our Sales Use tax. "She's right!" he said excitedly.

"Thank you," I said.

"Anything else?" she asked.

"No thank you," I said.

"Okay. Thank you," she said.

We hung up the phone and filed the Sales Use tax.

Not a minute later, Joebear's phone rang.

"Ugh. Wild Spam Caller appeared.... Again. They call every day four times a day. I never answer! Well, I'm gonna answer TODAY!!!" Joebear screamed.

Joebear grabbed his phone and growled into it. "...This is the millionth time you called me with your bullshit.... No, I'm not Dwayne Johnson. No, I'm not smelling what The Rock is cooking."

I chuckled a bit and began to get ready for work.

Joebear growled a loud growl over the phone. I stopped what I was doing for a moment, and my ears perked up.

Joebear continued to rage at the spammer on the phone. "No no no no no, you called me! What is your address?.... Athens. Yes, you claim to be in Athens. What's your street address...? Covington Credit.... Don't know where that is..."

I cracked up as I was getting dressed in a pink tank-top and khakis leggings.

Joebear was screaming. "You guys call me every fucking day!"

I doubled-over and laughed before beginning to write this story.

Joebear was stuttering out of frustration, "I-I-I have a right to be upset. You guys call me non-stop. Every day for two months. This is getting out of hand!" He threw his right paw up in the air.

I was bursting out laughing and held my heart in my chest. "I'd hate to be on the other end of that phone call," I said aloud while cracking up.

Joebear continued to rant and rave. "Oh no! You have no problem calling me non-stop, but you can't give a street address! What's your street address?.... What's your street address?... I'll personally come over there and kick your ass... I don't know where the fuck Covington Credit is in Athens... Dwayne Johnson was a broke black mother fucker. I am a bear!"

I belly-laughed before I rolled over and couldn't laugh with sound.

Joebear continued again, "Are you serious? You can't give me a street address? Then don't fucking call me. Don't fucking call me! If you call me again, I'll call my lawyer. I'll sue your asses.... That's right, hang up, piece of shit."

I was kicking my feet up in the air and cracking up.

Joebear sighed and shook his head. "This world is full of dumbasses..."

I was cracking up. "Do you work today, honey?"

"No. I'm not going to work today. Fuck these people," he said as he shook his head.

"Want to come to work with me and see the two-dimensional ape?" I asked.

"Why the fuck not? I'm up. I'm up. Bright and early! Bright and early!!!" Joebear said with a ratty voice as he brushed his fur.

I cracked up and grabbed my coffee, his fish, and his berries.

"Come on, Bae. I must work!" I yelled up the stairs.

He growled as he walked down the stairs. "My ankles kill," he said as he had a scowl on his bear face.

"They always do. Get in the car," I said as I carried my purse and coffee and his fish and berries to the vehicle.

He walked out of the house with the same scowl. "Bright and early. Bright and early," he said with a ratty voice. He made the ratty face to go with it.

We went in the car and drove to Peter's duplex. I called the doucheape to tell him we were on the way.

"Oh God it's you. Are you coming or what?" Peter asked before making random ape noises.

Joebear spoke in bear language to Peter.

"Apparently you are bringing your bear to work," Peter said.

"Yes," I said. "We are angry and want to laugh at your bullshit in person. We were on the phone with the IRS and a spam caller. We are ready to blast off with full trolling!"

Joebear growled fiercely before laughing silently.

I drove with excitement as I nearly ran over our goofball neighbors. Get the fucking hell out of my way!

"Oh dear God, get me while I'm down. I'm still two-dimensional from getting electroshock therapy. I must say that I am less fucked up than I used to be," Peter said.

"Thank God. You were really fucked up beyond all repair before," I said.

"Fuck you. When the fuck are you getting here?" he asked with an ape growl.

"40 minutes, you fuck. Ass. Ape," I said.

"Fuck! See you soon. Mom- she's coming to torment me! Help!!!!!!" he called before making a Tarzan call before hanging up.

Joebear explosively laughed.

My radio then loudly played "Motorboat" by DarthSydePhineas, our favorite nerdcore rap artist.

"DOOM de DOOM de DOOM DOOM DOOM!!! Do De Do De! DOOM DOOM!!! Doo de Doo de Doo de Doo! Here we go, Motorboat! Shit shit shit! Shit shit! Shit!! Here we go, Motorboat!!! Shit shit shit!!!! BREAK HER BREASTS DOWN!!! Here we go, Motorboat!!" Shit shit shit. Shit shit shit!!!! Shit!!!! Shit!!!! Shit!!

"Balls! Balls! Balls!!!! Shit shit shit shit!!!! Here we go, Motorboat!!!! Bust my balls!!!

"I just want to fuck. I just want to fuck! I don't know what you're talking about. I just want to fuck. I don't know what you're talking about! I just I just just want I just want to fuck!!! I-I-I just want to FUCK. I don't know what you're talking about! I just want to fuck. I just want I just want to fuck. I just want to fuck. Fuck. Here we go, Motorboat! This is bullshit! Oh! Oh! Breasts!!! My penis got destroyed!!! That WAS SO BRUTAL!!!!"

Joebear and I rapped along between serious bouts of laughing. I drove well despite my explosive laughing.

The next song was "Hobos and Dawgs" by DarthSydePhineas.

"Here we go! Dogs. Here we go! Here we go! Here we go!!!

"Damn! Damn! DamnDamnDamn! Hobos and Dawgs! Damn! Damn! DamnDamnDamn! Hobos and Dawgs! I need a hobo or a dawg, not you. Then I can go back to class! I need pictures! Where the fuck are they? Where are they hiding? I don't know. I need to find a hobo or a dog. I need to find a hobo or a dog. This is bullshit! This is bullshit!"

Joebear and I rapped along loudly as we drove fast past confused zombie Southerners.

"I DON'T KNOW WHERE THEY ARE!!!! I DON'T SEE THEM ANYWHERE NOW!!! WHERE ARE THEY? WHERE ARE THE DOGS!!!!?? I don't know! I need to find a hobo or a dog. I need to find a hobo or a dog. I need to find a hobo or a dog! Where are you? Doggies!!! WHERE ARE THE HOBOS?!!! I don't see them anywhere! This is bullshit! This is bullshit!"

I laughed and drove while Joebear made rapping gestures with his paws while he rapped along.

"Where are the hobos? Where are the dogs! Hobos. Dogs. Hobos. Dogs. I need to find a hobo or a dog. I need to find a hobo or dog. Hobos. Dawgs. Hobos. Dawgs! This is horrible! I can't find them!!!

Joebear cracked up laughing while I drove and laughed.

"He fucked the nerd! He fucked the nerd! He fucked the nerd!!!! Come on! Come on! Come on!"

Joebear belly-laughed and could barely breathe. "I can't do it!!!" He said while he was barely able to breathe.

More DarthSydePhineas songs were playing (Look up dsp remixes on YouTube). Joebear laughed and squirmed while I drove past bullshit people, cars, and clowns.

While I was driving peacefully to DarthSydePhineas's "I AM FUCKING SONIC!!," a flying pterodactyl flew over my windshield and yelled, "BRIGHT AND EARLY!!! BRIGHT AND EARLY!!!" before throwing a largeass Stanley thermos-full of coffee onto my windshield.

Joebear was laughing and crying. I drove in shock for a minute before I, too, was laughing and crying.

Unfortunately, we drove into a flock of pterodactyls yelling "BRIGHT AND EARLY!!! BRIGHT AND EARLY!!!" and dousing my car with coffee. The flock followed us until we entered Snotville. They even sung along to some of the DarthSydePhineas songs.

"We're almost there," I said as I was out of breath from all of the laughing I was doing.

"I have no idea how to respond to what happened. What a waste of everyone's fucking time," Joebear said as he ran a paw through his dark curly fur.

Once we arrived at Peter and Godiva's duplex, we sat in the car and just laughed because we were having a yet another mental breakdown.

Peter saw us and moved toward us as though he were a two-dimensional cartoon character. He still had that involuntary smile on his face and spiky hair that had electricity flowing through it. He looked like Einstein if Einstein were a two-dimensional ape.

Joebear burst out laughing hysterically. "What the fuck kind of people do you work for?" he asked me.

"Apparently, cartoon characters..." I said before trying to calm down.

Peter moved toward my car with that same involuntary smile he had from being electrocuted yesterday. I doubt he wanted to smile at us.

I rolled down my window and involuntarily laughed at him.

"Oh fuck you! This is the kind of shit you put me through on a daily basis. Now go clean. You and I, Joebear, shall fight to the death and go on a rampage. Want to see what I did to my ceiling fan?" Peter asked through involuntarily gritted teeth.

Joebear rolled out of my car and into the driveway while laughing. He was crying, rolling, and laughing at the same time.

I laughed as I got out of my car to try to work. I didn't make it far before I was leaning against the duplex and laughing my head off. My stomach was hurting.

"What the hell is wrong with you people?" Peter asked though his gritted teeth and moved like a cartoon character.

I couldn't stop laughing. I crawled into the house and tried to work. Every time I tried to talk to Godiva, Peter's very confused mother, I sounded like a combination of Mickey Mouse and Angry Birds. I lost my mind from Peter being two-dimensional, having an involuntary smile fused to his face, and having spiky hair.

"A day later, and I still don't know to respond..." Godiva said as she walked away.

By the time, I stopped laughing, I said, "That hurt me." I tried to clean.

"That hurt all of us. Trust me," Joebear said as he walked on all fours into the duplex.

I then started laughing again. I was cleaning, but tears were streaming in my eyes from laughing.

Joebear kept walking on all fours before he told me, "Let's go!!!" As he literally moved, he burped. "Whoa! Sorry! I literally moved, and that came out!"

I went over to where he was before we entered Peter's side of the duplex. We saw ceiling fan blades halfway embedded in the walls. The light bulbs were busted on the floor. I brought in the vacuum cleaner and vacuumed the glass.

Peter entered and made a proud ape growl. He beat on his chest to announce that he was fucking King Kong. I thought I entered the Donkey Kong Universe.

"Okay, King Kong. I hope you're paying me extra to put up with your ape shit," I said as I cracked up.

"Well, I'm redoing my artwork so that I can sell them. Everyone wants to buy art from an ape that is two-dimensional and has an involuntary smile on his face," he said through gritted teeth.

"Jesus oh my god..." Joebear said as he shook his bear head and laughed.

"Want to see my artwork?" Peter asked.

"Sure! Xara talks about your artwork non-stop," Joebear said as he walked through Peter's living room on all fours. "Fuck yeah. This place looks like home!"

I cleaned as I followed them. I still cracked up at the two-dimensional ape movement.

Peter was showing cursed versions of his other artwork. He showed Joe two demented clowns, a fiery sun, two big-butted witches, a man floating on clouds, a bald guy with a red turtle neck waiting by the phone, a man melted in a clock, many black and white prints of scenes of the first three novels, and a city with many buildings.

(For an ape, Peter might as well have been Leonardo Da Vinci, Donatello, Raphael (his and my favorite artist), and Michelangelo.)

"The last one is my favorite," Joebear said.

Peter took a good look at his painting of the city with many buildings and kept smiling. His eyes loosened up from his normal crazed look. "That's my favorite, too."

I imagined those two being characters in the classic Nintendo game of Rampage. Peter was of course Kong, and Joebear was a bear version of Raphael the WolfBear.

Peter was jumping and climbing on buildings as he punched windows, ceiling fans, helicopters, and even people. He avoided cops and tanks just like you are supposed to do in Rampage. He occasionally ate people.

Joebear was crawling on the ground eating people, smashing tanks and cop cars, and occasionally climbed on the buildings and ate windows, ceiling fans, and toilets. He avoided helicopters.

I could imagine them being fused to the city in Peter's painting. I think that's what was happening to them while I was cleaning house and trying to be boring instead of laughing my ass off.

[mxn-jeon]

Brick*

Min Yoongi | college!au | fluff | 3.1k words

You know that your dorm is made of brick, but you’re pretty sure that brick is not supposed to let sound travel like this.

You’re having a terrible day and all you want to do is sleep.

*repost of my story prior to deleting my blog jan 2017 

It’d been a long day.

It all started when you’d woken up a little bit late, having studied all night for an exam you had today. In your haste, you’d accidentally rushed off to class still in your sleep clothes: basketball shorts and an old band t-shirt. It was a brisk 40 out and you were intolerant of the cold, but there was nothing to be done about it now—the prof took attendance and you’d better be there at 8am—or else.

You sprinted out of your dorm, cursing the weather as you began to run the gauntlet through your classes. It was a Wednesday, and Wednesdays were the worst. You hadn’t originally organized your schedule this way, but the registration powers-that-be had wrecked you and no amount of begging with the registrar would save your sorry second-semester freshman ass.

You’d managed the first few weeks, but things were starting to get ridiculous. Wednesdays happened to have five classes: 3 lectures and 2 three-hour labs in straight succession, with no time for lunch. Class started at 8 and ended at 5. It was normally better because you could chow down granola bars between classes, but of course—you’d forgotten to put them in your bag as you ran out the door this morning.

Last semester, you’d been more than willing to skip classes, which had sort of sunk your GPA. You were in no such state to do so this time round: since you’d been unable to get into most of the big intro-level classes, you’d been forced to register for unknown professors and small class-sizes.

They all knew your name by now…and they weren’t afraid to use it.

Fortunately, first two classes went by without much event, but it wasn’t long before your body started protesting from neglect. Skipping breakfast was fine, but lunch was not. Halfway through your 11AM, your stomach began to grumble acutely.

You ignored its guttural protests even as you speedwalked to your first lab (although the sun was out now, it was only marginally warmer)…only to realize as you walked through the door that you hadn’t dressed according to lab standards: shorts were a big no.

Too late. The TA gave you a once-over and disapprovingly sent you back in the direction you’d came from. Reluctantly you speedwalked back to your dorm, threw on a pair of pants and a jacket and made a quick cup of instant coffee.

You chugged it as you walked back, scarfing down a granola bar and feeling like a slightly improved version of yourself. However, your mood quickly turned sour as you got back to lab and were pulled out by your TA, who none-to-gently informed you that you’d gotten points deducted off your lab score for being tardy and for not following lab safety protocol.

A cloud hung over you for the remainder of the lab, and your type-A lab partner was hardly enthusiastic with your missing prelab and general cluelessness. You asked questions, trying to keep up, but her answers had become shorter and less informative as time passed. Frustrated, you’d finally reached for a pair of tweezers as she’d snarked out: “I can do it myself, just don’t mess anything up and look like you’re doing something without doing something when the TA comes by!”

Chastised, you sat mutely in your seat for the remainder of the lab, trying not to make the metal parts squeak as you scuffed your shoes against the linoleum and copied your partner’s notes robotically.

The second lab fared no better: it was more talking than doing, which was good for you, but bad for your woozy brain. You found yourself dozing off on the edge of the lecture, and almost swayed off your seat several times.

The caffeine was obviously not working. You sleepily wondered why.

(Little did you know that on your desk, in fact, was the wrapper of a decaf pack. Half of your coffee supply was, actually—your mother had snuck those in, worried for your health).

You dragged yourself through the last lab of the day. Now, you had the big elephant to worry about: today was your first exam of the semester—unfortunately scheduled for 6-8pm, thanks to “departmental reasons”. You were sure the university was conspiring against you, but you managed your first real meal of the day before dashing off to the testing location on the other side of campus.

By this point, you were sleep-deprived and brain-dead, having had to study most of the night before. Unfortunately, you became the most sluggish at the onset of the two-hour exam, and found yourself struggling to stay awake. You begged your brain to stay on, but it refused to jump through any of the hoops the problems presented, and with a heavy heart and hand you scrawled some work onto the pages and turned it in as time was called.

Just as you were dragging your miserable self out of the lecture hall, you checked your messages, and you’d gotten a slew of texts from the choreographer of the kpop dance team you were on, thirty minutes ago.

“Y/N, can you come to the rec center? We’re practicing formations right now and you need to be here. The performance is literally this Saturday and I can’t let you perform if you’re not at this critical practice.”

“Shit,” you curse as you tap out a reply, suddenly wide awake. I just got through 9 hours of class and a 2 hour exam, can I please just not come? I promise I’ll make it up, please??

The response is quicker than you expect. We’re filming the preliminary video at the end of practice today, and the organizers want the lineup and everything as it’s supposed to be for the event by midnight tonight. If you don’t show, you don’t go.

A few seconds later: I’m really sorry, but an entire semester’s worth of practice is going to be for nothing if you can’t make it today.

Gritting your teeth, you reply. Fine. Be there in 10.

 Two and a half hours of dance practice and some walking time later, a quivering hand unlocks your dorm room and body weakly crumples onto the floor in the dark.

Your roommate has been fast asleep for some time, judging by her snores. You’re ready to pass out like a week ago, sweat and death-feelings and all, but you’re convinced you should really shower. So into the shower you go and out you come, still exhausted but at least smelling nice.

Throwing yourself into bed, you close your eyes, ready to sleep. Your consciousness dims quickly and you sluggishly note that this must be where the term ‘out like a light’ comes from.

It’d been a long day.

 “Ah…AHH…ahhh…” From somewhere closer than you expected, you hear distinctively feminine moans.

You’re on the cusp of sleep. You don’t take much note of it until it repeats itself again a few seconds later, this time a little louder and more persistent.

Fuck, I just hope that’s someone who stubbed their toe.

Another set of ‘ah’s and your mind fabricates a short list of possibilities, ruling through all but one as some loud bed-banging noises add to the mix.

You know that your dorm is made of brick, but you’re pretty sure that brick is not supposed to let sound travel like this.

You close your eyes and pray that they’ll disappear. Unfortunately, this only serves to make the mysterious girl’s moans more insistent.

“What the hell? Can’t they go fuck somewhere else?” You spit into the dark, pulling the sheets up over your head and realizing they muffle nothing.

Also, the girl’s voice is sounding awfully familiar.

You try to remember who it is exactly that lives next door to you, and your eyes widen as memories slide into place.

“Fuck, that’s my freshman advisor next door…ugh, EW, fuck no just stop alsdkjfhlakwejfh”

You’re embarrassed that her sex noises are now part of your head’s repertoire of “heard noises”, but you were too embarrassed to go over and tell her to stop, much less bang on the wall. She’s not even someone you like that much, but you like her even less now for cutting into your much-needed sleep time.

You can’t help but notice that her moans are the same pitch. Damn, that guy must be some boring shaft work that guy’s giving her if she can’t even do more than make the same noise like a parrot, you think, gaining a small bit of satisfaction from the idea.

Despite your exhaustion, you try to think rationally, and decide to throw your noise-canceling headphones on and try to sleep.

You quickly discover they apparently are not animal-noise canceling, and the grunting and moans from next door can still be heard, albeit a bit muted.

You tolerate another 20 minutes of it by watching Weekly Idol before you want to start screaming bloody murder. Collecting yourself, you open the door to your room, let yourself out into the hall and stand there, listening. There’s no noise. You begin wondering whether it would be sensible to sleep out in the hall, no matter how ratchet it would be, since the doors seem to block the noise better than the walls did. No one really ever came down to your part of the hall, anyway—there were only four doors at this end, and one of them was fire exit.

By this point, you’re desperate enough to do anything, and you turn around to go back into your room—only to realize as you try the door handle that you left your keys and your phone inside the room.

Fuck. fuckfuckfuckufkuckukf

At this point, you’re borderline hysterical. You’ve had like 2 hours of sleep over the past 48 hours and too many classes and not enough food and just too much shit and you’ve seriously just had it.

Your brain insipidly cards through options. Your roommate sleeps like a rock so she’d never wake up, even if you threw a grenade at the door. The RA on your floor was probably out pregaming for Thursday (which was pregaming for Friday, according to him). The only people that would have spare keys would be the janitorial staff and the dorm staff, neither of which were around at this hour. To top it all off, you still have the sex soundtrack of your (now) most hated advisor stuck in your head.

And you? You just want to fucking sleep.

Curling up into a ball outside of your room, you think that you fit the definition of ‘annoyed to tears’ to a T. You wonder if sleeping in a manger with some hay and barn animals would be better. Barn animals would be better than the two next door. After all, baby Jesus slept in heavenly peace.

More thoughts run through your head, and in your emotional state, you hardly register the creak of a door opening until you hear insistent banging against a door and an angry, lazy drawl call out.

“What the actual FUCK! Are you broadcasting this shit? Shut up already! Neither of you are good at fucking so just go the fuck to sleep like normal people so that us normal people can sleep!”

At this, you look up, surprised. A boy in a black hoodie, basketball shorts and flip flops stands facing the door with a look of irritation spread across his features. Your vision blurs as several tears slip out, unbeckoned, and you swipe them away with your shirt sleeve.

“They keeping you up too? Can’t sleep either?” the boy asks sympathetically, voice softer and more gentle, turning to face you.

You blank. Your next coherent thought: Wow. Is that the boy that lives in the room next to my advisor?

Despite towering over you and your face being a good length away from his face, you can tell that this boy is very good-looking, if a bit pale. You remember the namecard on his door from passing it countless times: Min Yoongi.

Has this gem been living one door down this entire time? you think to yourself, flushing a little.

“Yeah,” you reply simply, closing your eyes and lowering your head, hoping he wouldn’t look too closely at you. You’re a mess of nerves and desperate sleepiness, how embarrassing.

“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, and suddenly a warm hand is on your back and he’s sitting down next to you with a soft exhale, oof.

He’s warm, you think happily.

“I just want to sleep,” you mumble, your voice muffled through your hair.

Yoongi smiles a little at that. He does, too, but the sight of you, a girl he barely even knows, huddled up out in the hall for the same reason he came out to yell at the people next door, made him feel as though he might be a little bit more in control of his life at the moment.

“Hey, I’m sure they’ll stop now that I’ve yelled at them.” He pauses. Faintly, the two of you hear muted yelling from within the room. You lift up your head and give him a wide-eyed look.

He put his ear to the door for a few seconds, then yelled, “She was definitely faking it! No one moans like that during orgasm!”

You start giggling at the absurdity of it all—you had the same thought earlier, but he shushes you with an evil grin. “You should get back in your room and go to sleep before they come out and see us here,” he says.

Your face falls as you remember. “I’m locked out, I left my keys inside when I came out here,”

“Mmm…no one with keys will be around until tomorrow morning either, huh. Well, you can sleep in my room, on my bed,” he offers. “I think it’s better than if you sleep out in the hall. I’d feel better, at least.”

You’re hesitant at first, but the idea of sleep soon overwhelms any misgivings, and has you unsteadily clutching onto his hoody with agreement as you enter his room.

You gasp. His room looks like a studio: keyboard, stereo speakers, wires laptop and a glowing array of equipment and soundboards grace the expanse of the desk, with a heavily scribbled-in notebook spotlighted in the middle of the fray. One bed is lofted over the setup, the other on the far wall and a rug spread out in between with a few cozy chairs.  

“Wow, this is so…wow,” you say dumbly.

He laughs at your reaction, eyes crinkling. “Thanks,”

“Also, you’re into music? That’s cool!” you chirp excitedly, captivated by the buttons, dials and lights of the various consoles.

“Yeah, my roommate Namjoon and I share this deck since we’re both into the same sort of stuff,” He rubs his neck sheepishly. “Speaking of which, he’s staying out all night so you can sleep in my bed, and I’ll sleep in his.”

“Are you sure?” you ask hesitantly.

He doesn’t even bother to respond, hoisting you up the ladder. Your cheeks flush at the contact of his hands grasped around your waist. “Positive. I’m going to do a bit more work before I go to sleep.”

You hum in response as you clamber up the ladder. A bed has never looked so inviting. You tiredly crawl in and pull the blankets up over you, noting in the back of your mind that the bed smells distinctly not like teenage boy and distinctly like Yoongi. It’s nice. You settle in with a satisfied sigh.

Just as you’re about to drift off to sleep, you think of something. “I don’t think I ever told you my name?” you say, or you think you say, before your light goes out and your breathing deepens into the pattern of sleep.

From under the bed, Yoongi hears it. “It’s Y/N,” he says softly. “Y/N.”

 Namjoon gets back around 2AM, ushering himself in with a slammed door.

“Oh good, you’re still awake--” he manages to get out before Yoongi shushes him, looking up from his notebook.

“Shh, someone’s sleeping.”

Namjoon laughed, voice still as loud as ever. “That’s a good one. What the hell are you talking about man? If you’re not sleeping then who could be?”

“Joon, keep it down. It’s a friend. She was locked out of her room and she’s super tired so I just let her sleep here.”

The younger one quirked an eyebrow. “A girl? I’m surprised at you, hyung. Where are you going to sleep, then, if she’s in your bed? There’s not enough space for two, unless you’re holding onto her real tight so that she doesn’t fall off…” His eyebrows wagged up and down as he gave Yoongi a look.

The elder shook his head furiously. “Ya, I wouldn’t dream of it, you pervert! I’ll just sleep on the beanbag or the floor or something.”

“Ok, if you say so.,” Namjoon replied, shaking his head with a smile. “Also, didn’t you say you were going to sleep like 4 hours ago, also? What happened to that?”

Yoongi flushed. “Well, I started working on another project,”

“Sure, sure you weren’t just looking at this girl and taking pictures of her while she’s asleep.”

“YA! KIM NAMJOON!”

Namjoon put a finger to his lips as he smiled cheekily. “Hey, hey, quiet down! Your friend’s sleeping.”

Grumbling, Yoongi mumbled curses under his breath as Namjoon stripped down to his boxers.

“Hey, what are you doing?” Yoongi asked from the chair, his voice a little sharp as the other man put his foot on the first rung.

“What I normally do before I go to sleep?” Namjoon replied back questioningly. “What, what’s wrong?”

Yoongi gritted his teeth. “Can you at least put on a shirt and some pants to sleep? There’s a girl in the room.”

“Whoa, hyung, she’s asleep! It’s not like she can’t see anything.”

“What if she wakes up and sees you? Wouldn’t it make her uncomfortable? Just, just, do it. Please.”

The two boys made eye contact in the dim room. A short staring contest later (which Yoongi won), Namjoon removed his foot from the ladder with a sigh. “Fine, I’ll do it for you hyung. I can’t sleep like this but just because you asked, I’ll do it.”

“Thanks, Joon,” Yoongi replied, feeling more relieved.

Namjoon pulled out a tee and some shorts from his closet and put them on. Stretching out his arms, he turned to the elder. “There. Happy?”

“Yes.”

Grumbling, he ascended the ladder and fell into his bed eagerly. Once he’d finished rustling the sheets, he closed his eyes, ready for sleep to claim him at last---

“Hey, do you think there’s room up there for one more?” Yoongi joked.

He was pegged in the head with a pillow. “Shut up, hyung.”

 It’d been a long day. But, the morning would find Yoongi sprawled out in the beanbag with the notebook on his lap, lyrics scrawled all over the page about a locked-out girl who’d just become his latest muse.

note: yes this is my story. still unedited. rip my first fic

#min yoongi #suga #suga scenarios #min yoongi fics #min yoongi scenarios #bangtan fics #suga fluff #min yoongi fluff #bts fics #bangtan boys #i forgot how much i loathe tagging #kim namjoon #rap monster

[shittyelfwriter]

92 Truths

THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG ONE FOLKS! Long but boring probably, I’m not particularly interesting lmao. I was TRIPLE (HOLY SHIT) tagged by @thewayhistoryiswritten @mellomadness and @safyresky, the trifecta of lovelies!

*line break for scrolling convenience*

LAST… 

[1] drink: lady grey tea with a spot of cream

[2] phone call: my mom 

[3] text message: dani? More than likely I'm usually spamming her with some form of bullshit (I sorry) 

[4] song you listened to: Liability by Lorde

[5] time you cried: yesterday? It's was a stressful one but today seems to be a bit better

HAVE YOU EVER…

[6] dated someone twice: no

[7] been cheated on: NOPE

[8] kissed someone and regretted it: yes

[9] lost someone special: oh boy. Yes.

[10] been depressed: ✌️😎 always my dude

[11] gotten drunk and thrown up: nope

LIST 3 FAVOURITE COLOURS:

[12] deep green

[13] maroon

[14] black

IN THE LAST YEAR HAVE YOU…

[15] made new friends: YES! Most of my online friends have been made in the past year

[16] fallen out of love: I don't think it's really possible for me to fall out of love with somebody. It takes me too long to fall IN and if I do then I'm basically stuck with feelings for life

[17] laughed until you cried: yes

[18] found out someone was talking about you: ??? No idea I'm usually the last to know

[19] met someone who changed you: yep

[20] found out who your true friends are: this feels really shady but all my friends have been very kind to me this past year

[21] kissed someone on your facebook list: no

GENERAL…

[22] how many of your facebook friends do you know in real life: all of them? My fb circle is very small

[23] do you have any pets: do I EVER! I live on a farm with around fifty chickens, two ducks, four dogs, nine cats and a bunny

[24] do you want to change your name: I've wanted to all my life. I was supposed to be named Clara but my mom changed her mind last minute and then my cousin ended up with that name instead. I'm still salty about it.

[25] what did you do for your last birthday: I just chilled at home [26] what time did you wake up: first at 2:30 am then again for good at 6

[27] what were you doing at midnight last night: sleeping

[28] name something you cannot wait for: no idea. New Lana album? Lorde's Melancholy looks promising too

[29] when was the last time you saw your mother: two minutes ago when I brought her coffee

[30] what is one thing you wish you could change about your life: there are a lot of things. But right now I wish I wasn't having to file for disability and actually face the fact that my body is not my friend right now? I wish I had more energy to help my family but most times I am very fatigued, can't be up for long periods of time and can hardly pull my thoughts together. It's why I ramble a lot when I write/talk.

[31] what are you listening to right now: Aaron Burr, Sir from the Hamilton soundtrack (BURR U FENCEPOSTING PIECE OF SHIT)

[32] have you ever talked to a person named tom: our neighbor is named Tom so yeah

[33] something that is getting on your nerves: the fact that things are very stressful right now? Our land taxes quadrupled this year and our car got vandalized and we're behind on the mortgage and my cat ran away and I am just a ball of STRESS DUDE

[34] most visited website: tumblr and youtube equally

[35] elementary: homeschooled

[36] high school: homeschooled through high school, but I graduated at sixteen

[37] college: waited until I was 19 to go because of family crisis only to drop out when my own health crashed

[38] hair colour: darkish brown

[39] long or short hair: I like both? But right now I'm growing mine out again

[40] do you have a crush on someone: if I know you I probably have at least a low grade crush on you I just love people a lot even though I am a shy

[41] what do you like about yourself?: *pastes the entirety of the bee movie script to avoid this question*

[42] piercings: regular ear piercings, but I haven't worn earrings since I was like seven or eight

[43] blood type: AB+ I think, I'll know again in a few weeks

[44] nickname: Ana, Lili, senpai, u meme shit

[45] relationship status: single!! and screaming!!!

[46] zodiac sign: aquarius

[47] pronouns: she/her

[48] fav tv show: there are a lot of them! I'm just gonna keep it simple and say right now Voltron and Steven Universe are keeping me relatively de-stressed

[49] tattoos: none

[50] right or left handed: I'm ambidextrous! Though I /usually/ write with my right hand.

FIRST…

[51] surgery: none (though I did have a serious concussion when I was young? It's a long story ask me if you want the details)

[52] piercing: ears as they're the only ones I have

[53] best friend: I don't want to stick anyone with the title of best friend but you are more than welcome to take it if you'd like!

[54] sport: gymnastics, softball, baseball, football, swimming, tennis, tap, ballet, some hip hop dance. I've also coached softball and baseball as well as umpired for both

[55] vacation: I live in Hawaii? So I'd want to go someplace snowy probably, I get enough sun as it is

[56] pair of trainers: I have a pair of red converse that are slightly too small

RIGHT NOW…

[57] eating: Hershey's chocolate eggs

[58] drinking: still my tea

[59] i’m about to: make breakfast

[60] listening to: nothing right now

[61] waiting for: things to get better?

[62] want: my writer's block to leave? Please?

[63] get married: I mean, sure, if I'm not single for the rest of my life because I never meet anybody ever and am constantly a ball of stress

[64] career: I'm a farmer, I guess. Not exactly by choice. I write in my spare time.

WHICH IS BETTER…

[65] hugs or kisses: both

[66] lips or eyes: both

[67] shorter or taller: does it matter? Though I am a sensitive about being toll so maybe a toller is better

[68] older or younger: older, younger NEVER seems to work out for me

[70] nice arms or nice stomach: does this really matter? I mean? I care more about how a person behaves and thinks and feels than this

[71] sensitive or loud: either or both

[72] hook up or relationship: relationship

[73] troublemaker or hesitant: why are these the only two options. Why. 

HAVE YOU EVER…

[74] kissed a stranger? Nope

[75] drank hard liquor? Nope

[76] lost glasses/contact lenses? I've had them stepped on and broken so yes?

[77] turned someone down: yes.

[78] sex on first date? no

[79] broken someone’s heart? Yes.

[80] had your own heart broken? Yes.

[81] been arrested? It's...complicated?

[82] cried when someone died? Yes.

[83] fallen for a friend: yes

DO YOU BELIEVE IN…

[84] yourself? I mean I believe in most cryptids more than I believe in myself tbh

[85] miracles? Yes

[86] love at first sight? This is a difficult question. I know it's possible to have a sense of knowing about someone when you meet them, like you just know you're going to be involved with that person. I've experienced that -- and of course attraction is a thing that exists. But love is a complex thing and saying that you feel that much for someone you've only just met is quite the stretch. I think this concept is based on hindsight realization more than actual fact

[87] santa claus? 🙃 same phone who dis

[89] angels? Hella

OTHER…

[90] current best friend’s name: WHY ARE THESE SO SPECIFIC I AM OFFEND

[91] eye colour: sea green

[92] favourite movie: probably Pacific Rim I love that movie SO FUCKING MUCH also I love the Santa Clause movies but usually just to watch by myself. If I watch them with others I just feel EXPOSED (especially after my sister jokingly called it my porn, I'd still want to murder her for that if it didn't make me laugh so much)

TAGGING! The main squad I’d tag already tagged me so I’ll reach out and tag my other squad @bkwrm523 @splendidcas @joanne-egberp @imamotherfuckingstar-lord @willowing-love @netflixandcastiellll also @faith-in-dean @afanofmanystuffs @enaishungry @it-is-bitter only if you guys feel like it! I know it’s a long one :)

#92 truths #personal #about me #aboutme

[screamtech-inc]

I’m likely going to get in trouble for hanging up on this customer, but I’m sorry, if I’m going out of my way to try to help you by getting in touch with YOUR DOCTOR FOR YOU about a prescription that you have not had with our company in at least 18 months (which is as far back as our records will show) AND for a doctor that has not filed any prescriptions for you with us in that time either, the LEAST you could do is not swear at me.

I’m sorry that I don’t have information that you want to hear, but no one left any notes about you for us, I have been here since we opened up today, and, to be quite honest, if getting this prescription is as urgent as you claim, then maybe instead of “trying to get [us] to fill this for three weeks now”, you could, I don’t know, talk to your own doctor and get them to write you a new prescription or send one to us or any pharmacy.

Also, when I ask for your doctor’s information, please, for the love of all that is in the realms of holy and unholy, PLEASE give me SOMETHING to go off of other than a LAST. NAME.

Do you have any idea how many Dr. Browns there are in the US? In the Northern US? In the Great Lakes area?

Fucking... don’t get pissy with me for asking for their first name (which you never DID give me) or their phone number. Yes, I can just look up the last name, and come up with 50 people in the state alone that aren’t the doctor you want, but I’m not going to have someone spend the next 5 hours calling each and every one of them and seeing if you’re one of their patients.

And THEN, after I have to bloody pull teeth just to get his number from you for a third of this 20 minute call (most of which you have spent interrupting me and swearing at me) don’t act like it’s a surprise when I then, very politely, ask you for the name of the medication so I can accurately and quickly get the information to the CORRECT doctor so you don’t have to deal with this again TOMORROW. You gave me the name of it fifteen minutes ago, and I have newer information that I have to remember after the simple “I don’t see anything on your profile with that in its name in the past 18 months” I gave you back then. I’m trying to help you and you are making me ever more wishing that I couldn’t get in trouble for mouthing off at you.

Oh? You don’t know the name? Or what it’s for? (THEN WHY HAVE YOU BEEN WASTING MY TIME)

Oh what’s this? You don’t remember because you don’t have the prescription on you? (You have a prescription for it? Maybe contact THAT pharmacy for a refill then, because they’ll have that information, assuming you didn’t wait three years to get something refilled) That’s fine, I just need a general name that I can give the doctor. Feno-(”something”)-acid works. Okay, great, we’ll give your doctor a call and get it ready as soon as we-

“Make sure I have it by tomorrow!”

Well, sir, I can’t really promise that we’ll have it for you tomorrow. We need to reach your doctor, find out the medication, get the new script, see if we have the medicine in stock and order it if not, and then run it through insurance, all of which take some time. We can contact you as soon as it’s ready.

“No, not when it’s ready. You fucking get it by tomorrow!”

Now sir, I just said I can’t promise we’ll have it, but we can try.

“My insurance runs out tomorrow! I don’t have time for you to be shoving your fingers up your ass and playing doctor!”

(well then, you REALLY should have already talked with your doctor about this instead of, as you claim, trying to have US do this for the past three weeks)

Again, we will have it ready as soon as we can, but we need to reach the doctor-

“WHY HAVEN’T YOU BEEN FUCKING TALKING TO HIM”

(Because I’m stuck on the line talking to you, you stone-age dick)

“I NEED THIS TOMORROW. If you don’t have it by then, then fucking forget it!”

(I took this as my opportunity to, if the line was being recorded and this interaction came back to me, act as if this were a reasonable end on his part to the conversation, as any rational person could tell by his words that he was done talking, and said my goodbyes)

Yes sir, we’ll get in touch with your doctor and have it as soon as we can. Have a good afternoon!

And went to hang up the phone. Deary me, though, it seems like this customer wasn’t actually done because now my pharmacist can hear him screaming and swearing at me into the phone as I put the receiver back on the hook. Oops, guess the phone slipped and he got hung up on.

He calls back five minutes later and a different technician picks up, as I’m busy with another phone call, and I don’t hear what’s going on until I finish and she asks the pharmacist if he just got off the phone with [customer’s name].

I turned to her and tell her just to hang up on him.

“Why?”

Because I was the one who spoke with him, he already knows everything that’s going on, we’re going to contact his doctor so there’s nothing new to report yet, also he’s an asshole.

“He says you hung up on him.”

I did. (Shocked look from the tech) Because he was swearing at me. There’s nothing new to tell him, hang up.

She proceeds to tell him that we’re on the phone with the doctor but she doesn’t know the status of the prescription and we’ll call him when it’s ready and hangs up. Only two thirds of that were true, as the pharmacist wasn’t on the phone and I was about to leave and wasn’t going to be sticking around to help someone who can’t even provide simple information like a phone number without me having to feel like I’m navigation a mine field while being chased by rabid bears.

The pharmacist does, after she gives him grief because she “lied” to the customer about us calling (we also have five other patients ahead of him with emergencies that needed to be dealt with today, so he was at the end of the waiting list on that), call the number the patient provided, only to learn that it’s been disconnected.

Meaning no doctor. And no prescription. Oh well.

The other tech says now we need to call him and update him with that, and I’m feeling petty enough to actually voice, out loud, my opinion that, alternatively, we could not. And he can deal with it tomorrow. Because he’s an asshole. Who would rather bite the head off of the person that is offering to do something he should, as a man of 40+ years of age, be able to do himself without needing to have someone play the role of his mother and wipe his own ass for him.

According to him, he has had three weeks of trying to get this filled but not once has he given us a medication, just directions to contact his doctor, and decided not to speed things up himself and contact his own doctor about it. He claims he spoke to people about it yesterday, but there are no notes anywhere, and the time he gave about the call was the exact time that our tech that ALWAYS MAKES NOTES is on, our tech that likes to do everything herself to the point where she will kick you off your own station to fix something when all you did was ask her if something looked right. She jumps onto phone calls, so I can guarantee that she’d have picked up and dealt with him, and if she did, there would be PHYSICAL AND ELECTRONIC NOTES ALL OVER THE PLACE.

There are none.

He doesn’t know what the medication is, but has had it and has a prescription that he (upon bringing it up while screaming at me again) doesn’t feel like getting up and looking for enough to give us the exact name of this thing he NEEDS by tomorrow.

A script that has not been filled at ANY of our stores in the past 18 months. A script that is likely from a completely different pharmacy.

I know it’s bad, especially for someone who has had to deal with insurance not covering expensive medications while I waited to get covered again and as someone who sees on a daily basis, between 20-50+ people without insurance struggling to pay for things between $17 - $5K at cash price, to suggest that. But I had zero fucks left to give about this guy who has spent half an hour total of my time, making me stay 20 minutes after I’m supposed to leave (meaning I’m going to be getting in trouble because the store can’t afford people working outside their allotted hours), screaming and swearing at me and belittling my intelligence and then calling back and complaining about me when I have been (outside of hanging up when I could defend myself by claiming I assumed the call was over) nothing but polite and going out of my way to try to help him.

I will be fucking petty and say I bloody well hope we don’t have anything for him tomorrow.

#long post #admin vents #I've never wanted to punch a customer through the phone more than I did with him

[midnightthoughtshurtaf]

So

My boyfriend of 6-7 months and I decided to go live together in the same apartment. 

And oh boy, I’m not ready at all.

Because it’s too quick, I think I signed because “peer pressure”, panic or whatever. It’s not my first apartment, but lord, living with your SO, no, I’m not ready.

I had the same roommate for 2 years. We had ups and downs, and I think it’s time for us to part our way. But I shouldn’t have sign the contract, because now I’m stuck with my bf. 

And I’m not even sure i still love him. I mean, I live with my parents right now, for personal care (yay depression and bpd), I’m far away from him (6 hours drive) we see each other every 2-3 weeks, and yet, when I see him, after 2 days or so, I’m good to go alone again. But he’s so needy, he’s so clingy, it bothers me so much. I don’t want to be rude, but it’s annoying. 

He’s doing so many little things:

-We’re both into bdsm. I want to learn, and he knows a lot about it. But since we where together, we didn’t do really anything. I’m into domination a lot, being a sub in bed, and he doesn’t really do anything, he’s not a convincing dominant. But he is into slime and wam, so I made in effort to go into that. I don’t like it a lot, especially when it involves food, but he talks about it a lot. I tried, I really did, but I hate getting slime/food/whatever in my hair (I have pink hair, and it bleed easily) or sugary food on me, I don’t like the sticky feeling it gives. 

-He doesn’t clean after himself. He’s a cook, I understand that the one cooking usually don’t clean. But leaving for days the kitchen in an apocalyptic state is annoying. He has a laundry basket, but still doesn’t put this goddamn clothes in it. He does not often sweep the floor.

-His cat. I know, it’s not his fault. He got a bengal cat. Beautiful creature. But this cat keep meowing like a siren or an alarm in the morning, around 5am. She doesn’t like being petted, cuddled, she’s aggressive and scared of everything. She was apparently mistreated when he was in apartment with some friends, but I can’t believe he didn’t work on her behavior after that. She also meows for no reason, she “talks” when she’s alone, but it’s so loud, especially when he comes back from work at 11pm, and the whole apartment building is asleep. Finally, he doesn’t play a lot with her, so I think that she’s bored a lot. She’s having a thing for pushing things of tables, chairs, 

-I don’t like having big discussions at night, because I’m drained of all energy. I told him it was bothering me, that it’s making me overthink (fatigue) and sometime cry (when I can’t explain the right way or when I have what I call “bpd attack” and I’m all depressed, or for any reason really), but he stills does it quite often. Lately, it’s been about kink and stuff, something that bothers me in the beginning, but it doesn’t stop, questions after questions. How many times have I asked to changed subject, have I sounded rude because I didn’t wanted to answer. 

-I’m independent, a lot. I like to sleep alone, be in my bubble, etc. I have a king sized bed for that reason, so I can have my share of the bed without having someone else touching me. But right now, my bed, or should I say, our bed, it 40% for us, and 60% for the cat. And I kid you not, this fucking rotten princess of a cat has to sleep on the bed or she will scream all night. Anyway, when I used to have at least 50% of the bed (or 100% when I was single), getting down to 20% and having someone cuddled with you when you don’t want to puts a lot of things in perspective. For that reason, I asked to each have a bedroom, which he accepted. 

-I sometimes feel like I’m being treated as a child. Kink wise, I’m into age play. It has nothing to do with sex, I just like to act and play like a child sometimes to relieve the pressure. I color books, I watch kid’s tv shows, I wear animals onesies, etc. I do that rarely, like once a month, and it last about an hour (because I’m not confident with my roommate around to do more). The rest of the time, I’m a regular girl, behaving for my age, capable of talking and having discussion like an adult (I’m 20 for the record). But I don’t know why, I get explanations for everything, when i haven’t asked for. I’m curious in life, I love to learn, but getting informations rubbed into your face for 20 minutes straights out of nowhere is quite insulting. We both do Larp, but don’t go to the same one. Mine is more adult, violent, but also younger (only 11 years old) so it has a lot of flaws, and the boss is not that nice, but all my friends are there and I like to do this with them. His Larp is 30 years old, one of the biggest in the region, as a rich story, and about 800 peoples go each times. Mine as only 70-80. And I feel like he is always pushing is Larp in my face, showing me how better it is. Like trying to prove a point, but that point doesn’t exist. 

It’s not a lot of things, or big things, but it annoys me a lot. I asked him to be my boyfriend because my psychologist told me to do it, because he was the best guy of all the guys I was seeing at the time. And I think I shouldn’t have. I should have left all those boys, and go back to live with my parents right away. 

He has a past too... His ex gf accused him of aggression. The girl was totally crazy, stole all the thing they had in their apartment, did that to 3 other guys. She told the police that he “rape” her. More precisely: she was giving him a blow job, he asked to come in her face, she remove the penis from her mouth, said no, and he came at that moment. On her face. And that’s how he got charges, that were dropped because the case wasn’t solid. And people know about it. Not a lot, but my old circle of friend, they do. And because of that, I’m scared. Not everyone knows that the charges where dropped, that the girl was mentally ill and that she needed help, so she created stories and saw agressions in every little things to get attention. I don’t want to appear as the “rapist gf”, and I know some people who could think that. 

Lastly, with all of that, I’m so unsure, I feel like I’ll do a big error, going to live with him. Should have? I don’t know if I love him anymore too, with all of that... 

It’s so fucking complicated in my mind, all running around. I don’t know what to do.