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#thank god we can just say the horrors instead of oversharing
isindismay · 15 days
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Hate to say this but I might need to take a break from writing and just consume media for a while until I can come to terms with the horrors.
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lovely-necromancy · 3 years
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A Cure for Insomnia CH.5
A scream shocks you out of your fuzzy thoughts. You look around and notice Connor sitting alert and looking like he wants to run down the hallway this very instant.
“Connor?” the head snaps to you immediately and before you can even question his presence in your home he jumps up and barks then walks in circles near the door.
Great a dog who has no sense of horror movie tropes. Since the scream did come from inside your house you should go find the person who made it and see what's wrong. Also maybe get clarification on why they're in your home. You aren't dead and are still in the same clothes so you figure you're alright around them. You follow Connor to where Toby is, in your kitchen staring out the window standing at a very odd angle. Like he caught himself before he fell backwards but hadn't bothered to get up.
“What's up....oh.” is all you can say as you see Chonk's head whip towards you and Connor before he books it for the tree line. Damn that fat raccoon can run fast, good to know if he ever wants to chase you down in the future. Which he might if you don't leave his slice of pizza out today.
“'oh' 'oh', that's all yo-you've got to say about a giant fuck-ing ra-mrrow- raccoon!?!” maybe thinking this guy was composed and unphased was a misconception, if seeing Chonk has put his world views in question.
“I mean he probably just eats a lot of pizza.” to put it simply you never gave much thought to the fat little trash thief, he was just fat and he existed. Visiting your home for the slice he deemed his every other week. Probably had other homes in Kepler he terrorized for the same reasons. God knows Leo would never put up with a raccoon trashing his store for his pizza. Or even his home for that matter.
“He's nearly half the size of Connor!” looking down towards Connor you tilt your head.
“Are we talking about with his legs or just his torso?” you could maybe see the size comparison with the dog's body but with his height it was a different matter all together.
Toby rolls his eyes before going and sitting down at the small breakfast table where he seemed to have found your fidget cube and had been well fidgeting with it. You take the seat opposite of him, it's weird having a guest over especially when you didn't invite them in. Well now that removes the chances of him being a vampire you suppose.
Perfect not a kidnapper, nor a vampire, and he's helped you out twice now. The two of you might well be on your way to becoming best friends. That is if he could get past this episode of yours.
“I still don't know what happened last night, but I'm done with the freak out.” you say as you idly pet Connor.
“...What?” he's squinting at you trying to get a read on how anyone bounces back from something like that so calmly in a matter of hours. Especially when he'd been checking up on you and Connor only to see you still staring off into space.
“Oh, uh... I have Autism. Isn't good for much but helps me rationalize events quicker and move past emotional and mental breakdowns pretty quick too.”
“Is that an Autism thing?” you shrug at his question as he jerks his shoulders forwards a few times.
“Probably more of a me thing, but I've read the trait tends to be more common in those of us who are neurodivergent.”
You hear a murmur of telling someone later later. Filing that away to take note of another day you stare at Toby who in turn stares back. This goes on for a bit, you couldn't even classify it as a staring contest since you are both still blinking occasionally. You aren't really sure if you should say 'thank you' first and then ask the man what he's doing in your home or wait for him to break the silence. But as you stare at Toby, into his eyes, you get the feeling this man is more of a zombie than anything else. The type to drag along and go at a snails pace rather than get into the messy bits in one go...ironic choice for comparison.
“Thank you for driving me home...but why are you still here?” you hear a huff of laughter?
“You weren't really in a position...” knuckles pop “to be left alone. What if you got back into your car again?” his eyes cut and there's a bit of bite to his words...it wasn't directed towards you, you can feel that much.
“Fair enough.” you glance at the stove and see the clock shine a little before six. “Would you like some breakfast” his neck snaps to the left triggering your own to snap as well, “or a ride home?” you finish asking.
“Can you make something for Connor too? Don't trust you behind the wheel yet.”
“Oh sure! What does he normally eat?” Perking up at the thought of the dog being off duty, that means actual pets!
“He-mrrow- normally gets oatmeal with some fruit or veg and anything raw I can find.” He finishes with a whistle for Connor's attention, and then a pointed finger flipping down in front of him. The dog trots over and sits down, while Toby takes off the vest you look through your cupboards to find the rolled oats you'd gotten as incentive to eat in the mornings before realizing you only liked them on certain days.
“So what does Tobias normally eat?” you call out as you look for some honey you know you threw in the cupboards.
“Anything really. I don't do slimy textures or anything watery.”
“Watery? Like soups?” Found a can of pumpkin, it's still in date too, perfect.
“Watery like...when you put too much water in oatmeal.” He nods when you silently show him the can of pumpkin asking if that'd be fine for his boy, who is sitting down drooling from his smiling face as Toby tussles his ears.
“Ahhh, thin watery got it.” You hear movement and a few grunts from Toby as you assume he tics, trying to ignore them so they won't trigger your own you look through the fridge. You suddenly take a deep breath, while looking for a meat in your fridge, and let out a shrill trill. Kinda sounds like a Togepi's cry from the cartoon. Shaking your head your eyes catch the eggs and turkey sausages you have.
“Will turkey sausage and eggs work for you two?”
“Never had turkey sausage but it should be fine.” he's leaning forward resting his head in his arms on the table as Connor lays by his bouncing feet.
You set the eye to medium heat and put the sausages on first, leaving three out for Connor. He is a big dog after all. You turned your focus on preparing Connor's oatmeal while the sausages cooked. It was kinda nice having company over even though the circumstances weren't the best. Your neck jerks to the side three times before pulling back. There's more on the way your neck didn't crack and your body doesn't let up until it does.
“So what disorder do you have?” You turn to give Toby a confused look you hope he can read through your mask.
“...I have a few..you want the list?”
“No, the tics. Lower level Tourettes or what?”
“Oh, they stem from my” head jerking twice to the side before cracking “there we go.” “Sorry, they stem from my Autism, at least that's the best I can gather without seeing a specialist. Virginia doctors suck big time.”
“Tell me about it.” that perks you right up, you knew you caught a transatlantic accent, it's pretty much the lack of an accent that gives Virginians away so easily. You already have two guesses on where Toby came from.
“I knew it, you're from Halifax aren't you?!” Since you've turned around to face him you see the exact moment his face drops. Eyes shocked wide open.
“How...did”
“Oh it's easy once you know what to listen for, in fact it was the total lack of any distinguishing accent or use of slang that gave you a way. A lot of people don't notice what they take from their communities linguistically speaking. And for us Virginians it's what we don't take. It's such a bland neutral midpoint it's why it had been so coveted during the radio era and while we might've lost the in-fluctuations as time went by, no longer needing them for our voices to be heard over various frequencies....am I talking too much you can tell me to shut up, really you won't hurt my feelings.” you give Toby a minute to process everything you've just said.
“Special interest?”
“mmm, more a...an interesting factoid.” you hope he registers your smile, hell you hope he doesn't think you're weird. You know how much you can be sometimes, especially when you info dump or overshare information. He manages to nod along with you before finding his voice again.
“Lemme guess NOVA?”
“Pfft, seriously.” you really need him to at least register the disgust on your face if he hasn't been able to read you before, “Listen the Beach isn't much better but I'd probably off myself if I was from NOVA.”
“A public service really.”
You both stare at each other before breaking into a fit of laughter. It's nothing huge but it does seem to put Toby more at ease you noticed. In the time it took you to make breakfast for all three of you you've found out a little bit more about Toby.
He's uncomfortable talking about his hometown, at least you assume, so instead he mentions that he recently came to town with his friends, Brian and Tim. Talks mostly about Connor and you learn he's to help alert Toby of his Tourettes when driving and he can even detect seizures with Brian. That's amazing, service dogs have sure come a long way! And you love hearing what a silly puppy Connor is off duty, it makes you smile. Toby in turn asks about you, and you are such a well of stories. You tell him about your family back on the coast, about your recent move to Kepler, give him a little info on Kepler to help him adjust to his stay, and even get on the topic of your extensive work with animals.
“Sounds like you were working towards being a trainer, why didn't you?”
Making a sound that sort of sounds like a jumbled 'I dunno', “Sort of don't like people that much. Dogs are fine, less complex and less likely to complain when you do something in a different way. But a trainer doesn't train the dog, they train the people.” You're placing Connor's food in front of him as he sits patiently.
It's quiet for a moment as you place a plate in front of Toby and set yours down as well. Not tense just quiet, it's very calming really. Until Toby ruins it.
“Thanks Connor.”
Like he's a voice actor who is over exaggerating the sound effects of a dog munching away at their bowl. Connor inhales harshly before diving head first into the bowl. The dog is ferociously tearing into his breakfast and you can't help the laughter that spills from you at his enthusiasm. Hands coming up near your face and shaking as you shift from foot to foot. It's a happy stim, cute dogs are of course a trigger, someone can complain later you're happy to see a happy excited pup any day.
Taking your seat and turning your attention to your food, you see Toby hasn't touched his own. He's staring at the plate with a furrowed brow, he glances up to you as you remove your mask. You feel a bit vulnerable to be honest.
“Oh is something wrong? Do you want something else?”  He's a guest who's helped you twice now the least you can do is make sure he leaves your home full.
It takes a moment but he gathers his thoughts to explain, “I have a scar...it's pretty bad.” he looks away from you.
You tilt your head not quiet understanding what he means, “Cool story, do you want me to look away?”
He stalls at this, you just keep throwing him for a loop since you met the other day. While he thinks on it you scoop some of your eggs on your spoon and into your mouth. Perfect texture and prefect flavor, today will be good.
Toby seems to have made his decision and without any show he takes his mask off to begin eating. You can see the scar he was talking about, and while the currently red and bleeding'?!' scar on the left corner of his mouth was bad it wasn't much compared to the gaping hole further up that side on his cheek. You can clearly see the even whiter, how this boy is so pale is beyond you, skin around the edges suggesting the wound was older and had started to heal at some point. But you could see most of the teeth on the left side of his mouth. You've never seen these teeth while they were still in the head. A skull or 3D model yea. But never a living breathing person's head. It's fascinating really, you hadn't even noticed that you finished your breakfast as you watched him eat, you were so enthralled.
“You know your lip's bleeding right?” eyes never leaving the boy's teeth as you see them grind down the eggs into the tiniest particles. Neat!
“Rwhatf?” the way he can talk with his mouth full without spilling it from the hole is fucking magic and you won't hear another word on it.
He takes a drink of water, again it doesn't spill. Then you notice the slight tilt of his head...oh he's had practice doing this. Impressive honestly.
“That's what you choose to comment on?” his eyes narrow at you're still gawking form.
“I'm sorry I've just never seen those type of teeth still in head, normally muscle and...and skin cover them. So this is really cool to see them in action!” gosh you're so damn weird. By his stupefied expression Toby seems to think so too.
“Plus the wound looks healed but the lips look fresh,” you get up and grab a few paper towels bringing them over to offer to Toby, “Not to mention it's bleeding and you haven't once wiped it.”
He doesn't reply as he takes the napkins from you and dabs at his scarred lip, looking back and seeing blood just as you said. He was right when he thought he'd been biting himself a few hours ago. He'd totally forgotten to check after getting you home.
“Well I don't feel it so I didn't know actually.” he just resumes eating as if this conversation didn't happen.
“Didn't, didn't, didn't” you get stuck in a loop for a bit before breaking out “you didn't feel it? What do you have congenital insensitivity to pain?” you ask incredulously.
“I haven't heard it called that since I got diagnosed.” still eating he looks at you through his long eyelashes.
This dude could not be a real person. You had to have been imagining your dream friend. Everything you learned about Toby was more interesting than the last...at least for you it was.
“Medical history podcasts are interesting.” you shrug, “should I get the first aid kit?” at his shrug you get up and go to your bathroom to retrieve the kit.
Coming back into the kitchen you catch Toby lowering your plates for Connor to lick clean. You don't see a problem with it but you will wash everything twice since the pup has slobbered on nearly everything anyway. When you don't say anything he lets Connor continue before placing the dishes in your sink.
“Such a big help” you say patting Connor's head as you pass him, “Yea I really am” Toby says as he sits back down. Propping his arm up on the table to rest his head on his knuckles, it was such a fluid and casual motion. As if he's sat at this table everyday of his life, like this was his home and you were his guest. Tied in with how comfy he is man spreading at your kitchen table you'd say he made himself at home just fine.
You smile and scoot your chair next to him first aid kit in between you on the table. Toby looks between you and the kit before leaning in closer for you to work. Grabbing the antiseptic cleaning towels you go to wipe Toby's lip when he flinches away. Probably faking to see your reaction.
“Oh, fuck off you have CIPA.” you laugh grabbing his chin to keep him in place. He rolls his eyes “And you're weird.” The vibrations feel weird against your fingers.
“I know.” you continue cleaning the small bite mark? Well he does have CIPA he wouldn't be able to feel the pain if he was gnawing at his lips. Would he be able to taste the metallic tang of his blood or were taste buds effected by the disorder too? You might need to do another deep dive on this, it just became relevant. Maybe an anxious tic, judging from the larger wound it could be possible. Wearing a mask must help to hide it but not not to stop it getting worse if no one can call you out on it.
“That wasn't an insult...” he says making you look up into his eyes as you dry the wound, “I know.” You smile down at him, knowing this time he can see it on your maskless face.
When you finished cleaning his wounded lips, you drove Toby and Connor back to their home. Which turned out to be the RV at the forgotten entrance of the forest. Toby had been a little wary you knew where he was talking about but seemed to shake it off just as quick when you mentioned hiking a lot and using that entrance because it was the closest to you.
He had put Connor's vest back on and hopped in the back with him. You noticed from the review that Connor's full attention was on you.
“This set up let's him focus on the driver, so he'll tell us if something will impede your driving.” Well that explains Brian's position the first time you four met.
Nodding you sync you phone with the car's bluetooth and pass it to Toby with spotify open.
“Rules of the road, passenger picks music.” you say simply when he questioned it.
He quickly clicked your last playlist. Probably either too lazy to find something or trying to get a better read on you. Music says a lot about a person even if not everyone thinks that way. And unfortunately for you this playlist screams mental illness and a need for therapy. But you have folk punk. So who needs therapy when you can just scream cry these lyrics.
Toby doesn't comment on it, either just totally apathetic or maybe he likes it. He's a bit of an enigma, he's open and honest for the most part but saves his opinions unless directly asked.
Even after making it to the RV without incident Toby tries to distract you for a bit and tempt you out of the car with the possibility of playing with Connor. As fun as the idea sounds and as much as you don't want to be rude, you're very tired and drained. Probably more from “hanging out” with Toby this morning than your actual episode last night. Plus you understand Toby's just trying to be nice and maybe ensure your safety.
“Could I maybe rain-check? I'm actually really tired.” you say with your most polite smile, though he can't see it through the mask  you know he sees the crinkle of your eyes.
“Sure, just get home safe.” you feel that's less about you, but you aren't sure what the hanging subject is. So cryptic.
“Yup,” you chirp, “See you later Tobias!” as you start to back out back onto the road you hear Toby say “ Later YN.”
Driving off you can't keep the smile off of your face. Toby's a nice guy, you hope you get to spend more time with him. And this time the thought isn't centered around also hanging out with Connor. Just about enjoying Toby's company.
Getting home and locking your door you strip your jeans and flannel, leaving you only in your muscle tee, and curl up in your unkempt sheets. You'll do laundry later, right now was time for a little nap.
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poptod · 4 years
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Brought To Your Knees (Kenny x Reader)
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Description: 7-Elevens are a lot more versatile than one might originally think. AKA, sometimes you can get locked in them with your long-time crush and, following that, things can happen.
Notes: Freshman means you’re around 14-15 years old, Sophomore is 15-16 I think, Junior is 16-17, Senior is 17-18. Idk the American schooling system too well. Completely male reader.
Warning: Smut :) not sure why its there but hey everyone needs a gratuitous blow job every now and then
Word Count: 6.1k
You were expecting rain. You even brought an umbrella along, tucked away in the side pocket of your backpack, but an umbrella clearly wouldn’t work very well. Snow fell harsh upon the earth, cold and freezing near instantly, making a very thick layer of snow trap you inside the 7-Eleven, the doors frozen shut despite the fact that the heating was still on.
How exactly one gets trapped inside a 7-Eleven with the only person they’ve ever really loved probably needs some explaining, so let’s go back to the beginning; seven years ago. Seven years ago you transferred schools due to an unfortunate accident with a classmate, at least that’s what’s on your record. Half of you is grateful no one knows what really happened, but the other half wishes people knew you punched someone in the face hard enough to dislocate their nose. Though, looking at you, most people probably wouldn’t believe you, considering you haven’t got the strongest body structure. Your (at the time) new school was better than the last one in several ways, but the most important to you was the fact that it was a public school. There were horror stories about public schools, of unruly students and horrible teachers, and by god did you want to experience that - private school was far too clean, far too organized for your mind, and you were going slowly insane.
If there’s a term to describe you, it’d probably be ‘thrill seeker,’ if asshole can’t be said out loud. For the first couple of years you were a nuisance to classrooms, the well known class clown and always up for distracting the teacher (the history teachers were the easiest to distract, math teachers the hardest), and always ready to fight back for what you believed was right. Then came your first year of high school and you found the greatest thrill of all - boys.
Previously you hadn’t taken much of a romantic interest in either gender, and most people said it’d kickstart sometime in high school, which was about right - freshman year you had a crush on a boy named Everett. It wasn’t a particularly strong crush, not compared to your more recent crushes, but it was your first, and you knew exactly what you wanted to do. You wanted him to fall in love with you, hopelessly and endlessly, you wanted him to hang on your every word and dream of your affections... but you didn’t want to be in a relationship with him. No, you just wanted his adoration, and nothing more - only to lead him on and drop his heart to break it. When this didn’t happen and he didn’t fall in love with you, you realized that most boys are not attracted to other boys, and you became deathly silent when it came to crushes.
Several other boys (and maybe a girl) caught your fancy in the remainder of freshman year, but there was one boy you hadn’t yet met that would become the greatest thrill of all. Junior year you had a class with him, and on the first day of school when you walked into English class your bag fell from your hands, clattering to the floor with a loud thump.
He is perfect, in every conceivable way he’s everything you’ve ever imagined, shy and kind, sincere and genuinely interesting - just the sight of him from that day on and your heart speeds up tenfold. You’re a horror story that teachers talk about, so Mr. Davis is clearly flabbergasted at your silence, and for the most part he leaves you alone even though you’re barely paying attention to the blackboard at the front of the classroom. Instead your attention is focused on the boy sitting two seats in front of you and a row to the right. It’s almost surprising he hasn’t noticed your staring, but clearly Mr. Davis notices because about two months into the school year he pulls you aside to talk about it.
“I wanted to talk to you about your attention,” he says quietly, sitting behind his desk as you stand at the other side. You’re playing absentmindedly with your fingers, barely listening to him, only staying where you are to avoid another hour of detention today. “I know you’re usually very loud in class, word gets around easily here, but you’re staring at your classmate a lot.”
“And?” You ask, not really seeing the point. In your mind, he should be thankful you’re not a disruption.
“Is… is there anything you want to tell me? About Kenny?”
“Who’s Kenny?”
“… that’s the boy you keep staring at,” he says slowly, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Ah, you think to yourself. That’s his name.
“Listen, (Y/N), I want you to know you’re always welcome in my classroom. This is a safe space for you, okay?” His voice goes to a whisper as he says, “I have a boyfriend, so we aren’t so different after all.”
“I’m not gay,” you spit out quickly, the venomous tone of your voice not deterring him.
“I know it can be hard to admit at first, and at your age I understand the confusion within yourself. Just know you can talk to me, okay? And try to pay more attention in class? I know you’ve got it in you.”
Without word you pick your backpack up from the floor, slinging it onto your shoulders and leaving. Just as you exit the main doors, noting the dark clouds low in the sky, you’re called back by one of the vice principals, ordering you to your detention.
“C’mon, it’s Friday,” you groan, walking backwards to stare at the teacher as you walk away.
“I’ll call your parents!” She threatens, whipping her flip phone out of her pocket.
“Oh yeah? What are they gonna do? Fuck off,” you laugh, throwing double middle-fingers at her, which lands you in three hours of detention.
At five thirty you’re released, an absolutely sour look on your face as you walk down the pavement. There’s a seedy part of the city that has a 7-Eleven you’ve been to so often you know the workers’ shifts. All of them are pretty nice, though all very tired of life and if you had to hazard a guess, mildly suicidal. At least that’s the look in their eyes, and you don’t blame them - customer service is one of the most horrid jobs in history. Friday evenings Alan has shift, and he’s rather nice, but upon opening the freezing door to the inside, you don’t see him. The door shuts behind you and you wander the aisles for a little while - you don’t have much change, you note as your fingers fiddle with the coins and bills in your coat pocket.
Several minutes later your attention is brought to the weather - it’s snowing, bad, and you groan internally at the wind force practically blowing down the stop sign out front. The few trees that survive in the city are barely hanging on now, flimsy limbs and branches ripping away from the main trunk. Again you groan, a grimace on your face when you think about having to go home in that. With a calming sigh you turn back to the hotdogs, spinning slow and peaceful in the warm light.
Heaven is one big 7-Eleven, you think to yourself. One of the very few things that calms you down is rotating hot dogs that probably aren’t real meat.
From the corner of your eye you can see someone else enter, but the wind blasting through the doors is enough for you to turn your head.
It’s Kenny.  
Of course it’s him.
Gulping you turn back to the hot dogs, hoping beyond belief that Alan will get back soon. Kenny is the only person that’s ever rendered you speechless, the only one that’s ever made your cheeks blush without a word. Even in fluorescent light he seems to glow, peaceful and careful as his fingers drag a feather touch across a row of snacks. He hasn’t noticed you, not yet, so you have time to plan out how to hide from him. Instantly you turn to the cash register, wondering if you’d get kicked out of Alan found you hiding behind the counter.
Too late - you can feel his eyes turn to you, burning into the back of your neck as you hold a viselike grip on the edge of the plastic red counter.
“Um, do you, uh, work here?” He asks, now standing directly behind you. Trying to smile, you turn to face him, feeling your heart burn with the speed it beats at.
“No, I - I just know the guys who work here, I don’t know where they are now, though,” you say, oversharing a little bit and praying he doesn’t notice. He’s right in front of you, half confused as his lips part just barely, brows furrowing above grey eyes. You can practically feel your legs giving out beneath you, but he turns to the door before you fall in front of him. Practically gasping for air as he leaves your personal space, you watch as he goes to open the door.
“Is... is this supposed to be locked?” He asks.
“No, it shouldn’t be,” you breathe out, making your way over to the door to try and open it. It’s stuck, hard - you even back up to kick it and it doesn’t budge.
“Wait, you’re… you’re (Y/N), aren’t you?”
“You know me?” You ask incredulously, even though it’s not that farfetched that he would know your name.
“Of course I do, you’re like a legend at school,” he says, getting quieter as his sentence ends. As he fiddles with his fingers, awkwardly trying to look somewhere else, you can’t help but stare as you nearly always do.
“I’m flattered,” is what you manage to say, just as choked and embarrassed as him.
“I’ll stay out of your way, just - just don’t beat me up?” He requests, holding his hands up defensively as he backs away towards the corner of the small store.
“I’m not going to hurt you, I don’t do that,” you say, taken aback by his words. You know your reputation isn’t great, but you didn’t think it was that awful - you’d never beat up an innocent person and you didn’t plan on starting. “What are you doing here anyway? I haven’t seen you here before.”
“Um, my friend… he told me to meet him at the library, but the weather got bad and I needed to get inside,” he explains, still not meeting your eye.
God you’re perfect, you think to yourself in reaction to nothing in particular - he’s just so beautiful, so supple you can’t help but wonder what he’d feel like with his bare skin against yours. More than anything you want to belong to him, which you realize is strange for you; generally you enjoy others belonging to you, but… Kenny is different for no reason, but he’s so incredibly special you can’t understand your infatuation beyond the fact that it’s insurmountable and achingly enduring.
“I might be able to make a flamethrower,” you say, trying to think of ways to not be suffocated by nearness to the object of your unending affections.
“Wait, a flamethrower? What -“ he follows you frantically as you begin to search for flammable sprays - “what for!?”
“The door is frozen shut, we might be able to get out if I melt the ice away,” you say quickly, but he’s pulling at your arms to stop you from digging through the shelves. At the force you whirl around, face to face with him as your chest practically touches his, and in an instant you can’t breathe for fear of losing the moment. You both pause, frozen into shock before he steps back like you’re poison.
“I don’t think that’s, uh, necessary,” he says slowly, and just as slow you agree, nodding as you put the lighter away.
“Sure. You have a phone?”
“No, you?”
“I keep mine at home,” you mumble, untensing as the adrenaline of the moment fades away.
“Well this sucks,” he huffs, crossing his arms and turning awkwardly to the shelves as though he didn’t want you to see his face. “At least it could be worse.”
“No, don’t say that, the power’s gonna go -“
Darkness falls over the store and the heating system goes quiet, the dull background hum going out. A loud sigh comes out of you, letting your eyes accustom to the dark before thinking of what to do next.
“I think we might be stuck here till morning,” you grumble, the dim light of streetlamps casting a gold glow over the various rows and, of course, putting Kenny in a perfectly beautiful light. You can practically feel the blood rushing into your cheeks, and you quickly look away with crossed arms.
“I’m… sorry,” he says rather suddenly, just barely making his way closer to you.
“It’s not your fault,” you sigh. “A beautiful coincidence.”
“… beautiful?” He asks, confused by your wording - it can’t possibly be a good thing to him.
“Yeah, I -“ you look over at him, fiddling anxiously with his fingers as he looks up at you - “Never mind. You tired?”
“No, don’t think i will be for a while,” he says, sitting with his back against the refrigerated drinks, the back of his head clunking against the cold glass.
“I’ll get a flashlight and a boardgame,” you tell him, the only idea in your head that didn’t sound stupid; the entire time you’re looking through the back for games, you’re kicking the thought of cuddling him out of your mind. The situation is perfect, far too perfect for it to work out well. Besides, these types of things generally don’t work out for you - as previously said, you’re a bit of an asshole, and that trait has a tendency to screw you over.
He just sits and waits, and when you come back a good five or ten minutes later, he’s still sitting in the same position. It strikes you as odd how he hasn’t even fidgeted considering how much he was doing it earlier, but you just shine the light in his face and cackle when he winces away from the brightness.
“All they had is chess. I guess Marie took back her game, which is fair,” you add as you sit yourself down across from him, putting the box in the middle of you two. “She got fired a while back and didn’t get her game when she left. I helped get her a key for the backroom,” you recall, chuckling, but Kenny looks partially terrified, so you stop.
“You know how to play?” He asks, rubbing his hands together as he starts setting it up.
“A bit. My brother tried to teach me when we were little, I never caught on much though,” you say, thinking distantly of how your brother was doing in university. “He’s a big math guy, loves strategy games like this.”
“So you don’t like strategy…?” He asks slowly, as though worried he’d offend you - you just shrug.
“It’s not that. I’m… just more of a romantic guy.”
For a good three seconds he doesn’t breathe, but when you raise your eyebrows questioningly, he picks up again with an absent nod. Once the last pieces are set into place, he does a quick run-through of the rules, and by the end of it you’re fully aware you’re going to lose at least the first few rounds. Neither of you have a grasp on time as you go through the first round, then the second, and onto the third - you lose very fast, that’s all you’re aware of. He’s sweet about it, for which you’re confused if not thankful. If you were to play chess with some of the people you hang with, they’d be mean about winning and they’d cheat on you, which is fair; you’d do the same to them. Now you’re being nice, trying to actually understand the game, and he’s being a complete sweetheart about teaching you the rules.
It isn’t something you’re used to, but it’s something you could be used to, and something you want to be used to - this sort of kindness. Despite all the thoughts running rampant in your head you manage to stay concentrated on the game - well, him more so than the game - and it almost feels like he might like you. That’s an improvement, you think to yourself, recalling his initial fear of you.
“Could I ask you something? If you don’t mind,” he requests after you both come down from a laughing high, and you agree easily. It’s only far too easy to be open with him. “There’s lots of stories that go around about you - there’s this one, this one’s my favorite, mostly because I don’t think it really happened, but it is really funny.”
“Really? Well, rumors are half right sometimes. What horrid thing did I do this time?” You ask, using the bottle opener on your swiss knife to pop open a beer bottle.
“It’s mostly just… inappropriate, not that it was a particularly ‘bad’ thing. I heard you… slept with Isla and Gianna like, at the same time, like every high school boys’ dream. The guy I heard tell it said you snuck into a sleepover or something?” He says slept like it’s disgusting, so that paired with absolutely everything else about him you assume he’s very unexperienced.
“That’s an interesting story, which I - I don’t usually tell the truth about,” you confess, waiting for him to make his next move in the game, but the moment never comes. He’s far too engrossed in your conversation, and as wonderful as it feels to be having a real conversation with your crush, you can’t help but hate the subject.
“Will you tell the truth this time?” He asks, quiet and sincere in a way that you don’t fully expect. It pushes you to trust him just a little bit more, and it’s all you need for the truth to come out for the first time about that story.
“I went to sell them some weed because they called me up n’ said they’d pay the price for bothering me so late at night, so y’know, I said ‘fuck it,’ you only live once right? I climbed into Gianna’s window for this too, and then they offered for me to share it with them. To be fair to myself I wasn’t feeling… too great about myself,” you grow quiet, “so I said yes. And then they started bringing up sex, and they kept trying to get me to make a move on them, but I wasn’t really feeling it. I didn’t want to do it, but it.. sort of happened anyway?”
He’s quiet, sort of nodding his head but he’s too far in thought to commit to the motion fully.
“Why haven’t you told anyone the truth before?” Is what he asks at first, and you breathe out a sigh of relief when you realize it’s one of the easier questions.
“Didn’t want to seem like a pussy, that’s why,” you scoff, taking a smooth swig from your bottle. “It’s not a big deal anyway.”
“Kind of sounds like it,” he murmurs.
“Yeah, that’s because you’re a virgin,” you say, that asshole part of yourself that you were so worried about earlier rearing it’s ugly head. Right on time too, right when you could’ve opened your heart.
“There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin. You know what they say,” he says defensively, leaning back against he glass.
“Oh? What’s that?”
“The safest sex is no sex at all.”
“Yeah, and abstinence won’t get you pregnant 99.99% of the time,” you laugh. When he just looks confused, you explain, “Virgin Mary, dude.”
He opens his mouth to let out a tiny ‘oh,’ and at last the game is resumed. Throughout the next several rounds he asks more questions, but those times he doesn’t ever lose track of the game turns. By the end of the night, when you’re both finally yawning with dewey eyes, you’ve only won one round, which you’re very proud of.
“At least I beat you once,” you remark as you help him look for blankets to stay warm with. “I won a round against Mr. Chess Master.”
“And I won fourteen rounds against Mr. Sex,” he says, his eyes bulging out of his head as his hand slaps over his mouth once he realizes exactly what he’s said. You turn to him, shocked yet pleasantly surprised to find him so flustered. Dreadful is how you’d describe him, dreading your full reaction.
“Those aren’t the rounds that matter if I’m Mr. Sex,” you respond, trying to remain as smooth and deep as possible when you wink to punctuate your sentence. His mouth falls open when his hand drops back to his side, and you walk out of the storage room with a small smile.
You heave a massive sigh, gathering yourself back together once the door shuts behind you. It only takes a few seconds before he’s following you, but it’s all that’s necessary for you to gain your chill again.
“It’ll probably be easier to sleep back here,” you say, gesturing vaguely to the entirety of the backroom - it’s a tad warmer and carpeted, which is a plus for comfort. The one office chair is cheap and heavily scratched by god knows what, so you roll it into the corner and lay out a blanket on the floor. It’s not an especially nice blanket, which is what you expected. The only real source of warmth you have access to is the leftover coats from employees who didn’t care to take theirs home.
As you lay down on the blanket, covering yourself in a too-large trench coat, you wonder of the different ways the evening could progress. In fact it’s all you can think about, all your brain can stress about when Kenny lies down right beside you. He has his coat as a pillow, and without word you offer your coat to help cover him - he declines, mumbling something about how he’s already warm.
I could kiss him right now, you think, the thought sending shivers of anxious excitement and fear through your veins. He’s staring at the ceiling, and though your body is facing the same direction you’re looking at him, watching the slow movement of his chest and the tired blinking of his eyes. Or we could leave and never talk again.
You don’t know what you’re doing, hardly aware of your own movements as the back of your fingers caress the side of his face, pushing unruly hair away from his eyes. His breath catches in his chest for a moment before he turns to you, eyes wide but curious despite the obvious fear.
“You’re really handsome,” he barely gets out, a whisper that he stumbles over. Judging by his uncertainty in himself you’re confident in saying he’s being sincere - that and the fact that nothing about him insinuates he’d lead you on like that. There’s so many silent words shared between you, a bond that one hold tights while the other wonders how it’s possible.
One wrong move, you think, one wrong move and I fuck this up, just like everything else. The urge to hold him close, to grab his hands and keep them intertwined in your own runs strong through your cold fingertips, but you wait. You wait for him to make the first move, but he doesn’t even blink; he’s far too enraptured in the way your lips part just slightly, the way your eyelashes flutter when you glance nervously up and down.
“I really like you,” you say, though the words don’t fully come from your conscious self. Something grabs you, ties away your thoughts and says what you mean - exactly what you mean, something you hardly ever do. He reaches up towards your hand lying dormant beside his cheek, trailing over your skin till he tangles his fingers in yours, holding your hand tight in his as he presses a kiss to your knuckles. The entire time you stare, watching his eyes flit downwards as a blush you can barely see in the dark crawls up into his face.
In a swift movement the old coat is off of you, crumpled in some corner as you rest your forearms on either side of his head, supporting your body held above him. His breathing picks up and at last he finally looks into your eyes again, careful to watch for any sign of what comes next, but even you aren’t sure as to what you’re doing. Still you move down, inching closer till your lips press against his.
He’s clearly startled, even though he immediately moves against you, kissing up into you even if his hands don’t know where to go. In your position you can do very little, but you manage to thread your hand into his hair, tugging on it lightly as you move deeper, pulling a tiny, broken hum from him. When his hands wrap around your wrists it’s painfully obvious he’s never done this before, so you break away, letting the both of you breathe and smile when it’s finally, fully, consciously realized what just happened. It’s so starkly different than any other romantic encounter you’ve had, so openly loving and yielding you wonder if you’ll ever be able to kiss anyone but him again.
“I’ve waited so long to do that,” you murmur, letting your head fall into the crook of his neck. He almost laughs, breathy and unsure as he runs his fingers down your spine.
“You could’ve done it sooner,” he tells you, whispering the words into your ear, his lips tickling the edge of it as he speaks. “I’ve had a crush on you for months.”
“Really?” You ask, pulling away to look at him fully. He stammers when you rest your weight on his hips, the heat of your thrill burning through the layers of clothes to intoxicate him. “I haven’t ever seen you look at me once in class.”
“We have class together?”
“I sit behind you, Kenny. English class,” you chuckle, watching his lips purse together in embarrassment.
“I mostly watch you during lunch. I - I never said anything because… well, you know why,” he mumbles, once more unsure of where his hands are supposed to go, so he crosses them on his chest.
“I know,” you say, quiet as you think over your words. “You still could’ve come up to me, but… this works too.”
He breaks into a grin, giggling when you join him till you’re both coming down from a high - as the wide grins dissolve into contented smiles, you kiss again, moving slow and soft, softer than the girls you’d been with, sweeter and more innocent than any love you’ve known.
“It’s strange you know,” you mumble against his lips, interrupting yourself by kissing him again. “I usually go for degenerates, you know, people like me?” You kiss him again, deep and needy - “but God, I’ve never adored someone as much as I adore you.”
“Really?” He manages to get out amidst your attack, trying to get ahold of a rhythm you could kiss him to but you’re chaotic, switching from his lips to his jawline and pressing kisses up his neck.
“Yeah,” you rasp out, the beginnings of a hickey blooming red on his neck.
“Oh, I - oh, don’t leave a mark,” he says, but by the way he tugs at your hair and pulls you closer, you’re sure he really wants you to.
“Let me guess, strict parents?” You ask, pulling away to look at your work. He nods as though it’s something to be ashamed of, but you just sigh and smile, tracing his jawline with your fingers. “This is probably the only time we’ll be able to make lots of noise, though.”
“You mean this’ll happen more times?”
“If you want it to. I want it to,” you say, watching as he nods furiously.
“Yes, please,” he practically whimpers, pulling you in for another searing kiss, his new ferocity biting at your lips and making you moan. You’re grinding on him, hardly realizing your actions before you’re both far too worked up from the friction.
“Fuck, I need you,” you say, your hands going up his shirt to scratch at the soft skin there.
“I haven’t ever done this before,” he tells you, almost glaring at you when you mumble, ‘I knew it,’ but the glare is quickly cut short when you palm at him through his jeans.
“Do you want this? We don’t have to, you deserve better,” you stop for a moment, letting your hand grip at his hip while the other strokes soothingly through his hair.
“Better than a quick fuck in the back room of a 7-Eleven? Probably,” he says, a smile breaking across your face at his humorous tone. There’s a delight that runs through you when you hear him swear, but you try not to think about it. “But I don’t think either of us are gonna be able to sleep well with… this.”
“Fair enough,” you say with a shrug, pulling him back into a kiss.
With fumbling hands he works at your pants, managing to unbutton the ragged material and push them partially down your hips. You do the same for him before pulling his shirt off, kissing down what you find to be a surprisingly toned chest. For as much as he’s bullied he’s incredibly attractive and rather fit, and for a second you wonder why he’s bullied so much, before remembering a lot of people are pretty racist, and the whole ‘being gay’ thing was pretty obvious to everyone.
A long, saccharine moan is pulled from his lips, forcing you to think only of him. At the sound you practically gape, a sudden virility going straight to your cock, which is now straining painfully against your boxers. You can’t remember what it was you did that made him moan like that, so you do everything you think could work - it proves a lot for him to handle. Tiny gasps leave him as you trace your fingernails over his chest, biting tiny love marks into his ribs as your own chest occasionally rubs against his crotch.
“(Y/N), please, just friggin’ touch me,” he whines, his head thrown back and staring blankly at the ceiling, too focused on the sensations to care. You almost laugh at his desperation, but when he grabs your hair and practically grinds his dick into your face, you don’t. As demanding as it is you can’t help but acquiesce. You mouth at him through the fabric, and by the time he’s begging you again there’s a prominent wet spot on his underwear from where you sucked. When at last you begin to pull them down he looks at you, watching intently with flushed cheeks as he’s fully exposed to you.
Standing, you undress yourself, making a little show of it when you notice him staring. The moment you finish you’re back on him, just as needy as he is when your bare cock brushes up against his; his shoulders shake at the contact, and he falls back onto the floor, his eyes shut tight. To soothe the ache you kiss him, as tender as it was when you first kissed, and he finally lets out an anxious breath when you part.
“Tell me what you want,” you murmur, running your hand slowly down his chest till you reach his waist, your fingers just barely curling around him and pumping slower than what he deems should be possible.
“I just need you, anything, please,” he replies, breathy and still as wanting as ever.
“God, you really like begging for me, don’t you?” You tease, smirking when he just whines as you speed up your pace. With a kiss to his neck you whisper in his ear, “I love hearing you moan, though.”
“Then make me moan,” he says thoughtlessly, regretting his words when you smirk and move down his body. Regret is the last thing on his mind however, once you wrap your lips around the tip of his dick, sucking and practically drooling as you pump him.
“You taste wonderful,” you hum, attempting to take him deeper.
As experienced as you are it’s chiefly with girls (even if you aren’t as attracted to them, it’s just easier to pretend like you are), and this would technically be the first time you’ve sucked dick. It’s a lot harder than girls make it seem, you note to yourself, but try to take him deeper anyway. A long whine tumbles from his lips when you both realize you don’t have a very strong gag reflex and take him to the hilt, sucking and still roaming the expanse of his thin waist with your hands. He’s close, you can feel him twitch in your mouth, paired with the precum dripping off him and into you, but he yanks you away by your hair and pulls you up for another passionate kiss.
“What about you?” He asks, panting, and you almost laugh again - it’s so odd for someone to ask about you first.
“The sight of you like this is enough for me,” you assure him, laying wet kisses that have his eyes fluttering into the back of his head down his neck and onto his shoulder.
As you continue pumping him, focusing the majority of your energy on sucking a hickey into his skin, you hardly notice yourself grinding against him. In fact you only realize you’re doing it when his legs wrap around your hips, pulling you in till your cocks are slotted next to each other, both achingly hard. The intensity of it has both of you coming soon after, the imprint of your nails a semi-permanent fixture on Kenny’s hips, paired well with the blossoming hickey on his clavicle. He’s not the only one marked up by the end, though - angry red streaks line your back from his scratching, and you only notice when you collapse on your back beside him.
“Would you happen to have a rag?” He asks, both of you breaking into giggles soon after.
“I’ll go get paper towels,” you offer, reaching for your underwear before realizing you need to clean up before putting on clothes. Instead you peck his forehead, leaving him smiling as you leave the room.
Eventually you’re both cleaned up, clothes on, and the trench coat is covering the both of you, cuddled tight in the back room of 7-Eleven. When the story gets out, as all stories do at some point, there’s a lot of varying accounts on what happened in the night. The most popular, and probably your least favorite, was that you terrorized him the entire night, and though most people don’t believe it considering how close you and Kenny act, it’s still the most popular. Another theory was that you introduced him to drinking and you stayed up with him all night, drunk out of your minds; you don’t mind that story as much, but he does, so you try to tell people that isn’t what happened.
He does ask at one point if he’s allowed to talk about your relationship, and your answer is an ardent yes, which surprises him. You adore every part of him, and you find no shame in that, even if he thinks you should. Sure, you do get bullied a lot more, but it’s nothing brass knuckles don’t sort out quickly.
It’s an odd pairing, you acknowledge that. Punk doesn’t usually go well with sweetheart nerd, but it works surprisingly well, and for that you’re endlessly grateful. In-between classes you run by his locker even though you’re on separate sides of the school, always kissing him before each class. Your little expeditions leave you late to every class but English, and by the end of the year all your teachers hate you as usual with the exception of Mr. Davis.
“You concentrate a lot better these days. Did my talk help you out any?” He asks after class one summer day. Kenny is waiting outside the class, so you try to find a quick answer.
“Well… a little. I talked to Kenny at least,” you answer with a smile, bidding him a kinder good-bye than you usually give your teachers, saluting him as you close the door.
“Everything alright?” Kenny asks, walking shoulder to shoulder with you down the empty halls of the school.
“Everything’s perfect, sugar,” you answer, your arm hanging around his shoulders.
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silent-of-spirit · 6 years
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Rules: Answer the questions in a new post and tag 10 blogs you would like to get to know better.
Tagged by @solemis, @ladylike-foxes, and @sasshole-for-rent. Thank you, darlings <3
A - Age: 24 in May 
B - Birthplace: Fort Walton Beach, Florida
C - Current time: 3:09pm
D - Drink you last had: Coconut-Lime Bai (I am obsessed with the coconut Bais. Like to a probably unhealthy degree)
E - Easiest person to talk to: Oh lawd. My sister @thissoulletfree (though she is like never on tumblr), my WIFEY POO @ladylike-foxes (seriously she is so amazing. go give her some love), @solemis (a new friend, but so easy to talk to and so incredibly sweet. for reals. give her some love too), @5ftgarden, and some of my RL friends. I am so socially awkward so there are not many people in this world that are truly easy for me to talk to.
F - Favorite song: I... just one? But? Hmmmm.... Right this second it’s “She Used to Be Mine” by Sara Bareilles
G - Grossest memory: So I have suffered from a TON of health issues in my life, many of which are chronic so.... I have way too many gross memories and I am not going to share them, lol. If you REALLY want to know, just pm me I guess? But you’ve been warned xD
H - Horror yes or horror no: Hell. Yes. I LOVE to be scared. Love it.
I - In love?: Romantically? Not at the moment. Platonically? God fucking yes.
J - Jealous of people?: Often. It’s something I am trying to work on, but it’s usually just about writing. I’m not really jealous of PEOPLE just what they can do. (Also jealous of healthy people because I have known nothing but illness, pain, and mental health issues my entire life and even though they have made me who I am, I would just LOVE to be able to have the kind of life people take for granted.) Oops we got deep. There’s that oversharing again xD
K - Kisses or hugs?: Yes, both. God, yes. Please.
L - Love at first sight or should I walk by again?: My logical mind would say no. Love has to be given a chance to breathe and grow, and it just isn’t possible to find that in a split second of seeing someone. But there is that part of me WAY deep down that believes in soulmates and unexplainable bonds, and that part would say yes... though probably only once every few lifetimes.
M - Middle name: Ashton
N - Number of siblings: One younger sister who is my biggest supporter and best friend.
O - One wish: For myself - to be healthy. In general - I want peace and acceptance to become more prevalent than hate. I want people to love each other and take care of one another instead of constantly trying to tear everyone down. 
P - Person you called last: Uhhh either my sister or my dad.
Q - Question you are always asked: Um? I guess “How are you?” xD
R - Reason to smile: Oh god, there are so many. Friends, nature, creativity, animals, helping people, writing, and just... so many? I tried to narrow it down to categories because this would be a novel otherwise. Life might suck, but there are a million and two things that make it worthwhile. 
S - Song you sang last: “She Used to Be Mine” xD (Practicing it a lot because I want to make a cover of it. It’s one of those songs that just resonates.)
T - Time you woke up: Around 10am
U - Underwear colour: I never wear underwear unless forced/required.
V - Vacation destination: Uh... just one? Uh.... a WORLD TOUR :D (I cheated) 
W - Worst habit: Oh gee. I swear like a sailor, I smoke cigarettes, I pick at my cuticles/dry skin/bumps/acne (basically if it is not the regular texture of my skin it will likely get picked at), I isolate myself when I get in a bad headspace... and several more xD 
X - X-rays: Oh lord. Several. On pretty much every conceivable part of my body.
Y - Your favorite food: SUSHI and also cheese.
Z - Zodiac sign: Taurus
So... I am pretty sure everyone has done this, but if not, I tag YOU!!! Please do this and let me see! I love learning about people.
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rollertoasteroflife · 7 years
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These Things Are Fun Lets Give It a Go
Tagged by @katyaton heyyyyyyy!
RULES: answer all questions, add one question of your own and tag as many people as there are questions. (…yeah I don’t know that many people...)
tagging: @deaded123 @showmethestarlight and if anyone that follows me wants to please do but you two are the only ones that actually reply to these things and I can’t be arsed to go through all of my followers when no one does them anyway :D
1.      coke or pepsi: coke definitely
2.      disney or dreamworks:  oh god ummm i love disney cos that was my childhood but dreamworks have done some truly amazing films and they gave me how to train your dragon which i love far more than is probably normal...
3.      coffee or tea: *whispers* both definitely both...I drink so much coffee and tea and currently green tea I’m probably 70% hot beverage at this point
4.      books or movies: ah fuck. um I have to say finding a favourite book feels so much better than a favourite film but like I literally work in the film industry so I honestly love them too but yeah imma have to say books (that was really difficult D:)
5.      windows or mac: windows cos it’s what i know
6.      dc or marvel: um I’ve seen more marvel so I’ll say marvel but I’m not particular opinionated on the matter
7.      xbox or playstation: I am abysmal at playing games so again not really my question. however i have finally worked out how to use my housemates xbox as a dvd player so woo
8.      dragon age or mass effect: I don’t play them
9.      night owl or early riser: Permanently tired pigeon here but more of a night owl.
10.  cards or chess: Oh god um  actually can’t choose because i grew up playing card games and i really love them but i have a massive sentimental personal thing about chess so yeah i can’t choose here
11.  chocolate or vanilla: Chocolate what am I? dumb?!
12.  vans or converse: Converse 
13.  lavellan, trevelyan, cadash, or adaar: I do not understand
14.  fluff or angst: um in like fic reading or my life?? because my favourite fan fics are often angsty ones but I get wayyyyyyyyyy too emotional about them and yet still tend to read them over fluffy ones. Yet in actual life my life has enough problems please cover me fluffy things i’m tired
15.  beach or forest: beach because there’s sea but i fucking love forests so much!!
16.  dogs or cats: Cats!! but puppers are great too!!!
17.  clear skies or rain: Fucking rain I love rain!!
18.  cooking or eating out: I really like cooking it’s what I resort to when I’m having issues with life not working out.
19. Spicy food or mild food: I don’t like massively spicy food but I will fight you over bland food so like somewhere between the two??
20.  halloween/samhain or solstice/yule/christmas: I only really started doing halloween like a couple of years ago but i do enjoy it (woo for fancy dress) but i do really love christmas!
21.  would you rather forever be a little too cold or a little too hot: cold definitely i hate the heat. It was 15 degrees c today (59 fahrenheit thanks google) and i was dying and complaining most of the day
22.  if you could have a superpower, what would it be: Shapeshifting!!!! 
23.  animation or live action: Again with the whole job thing, live action but i love animated films too!!
24.  paragon or renegade: eh?
25.  baths or showers: i shower more often but my house doesn’t have a bath and i really miss it. also currently with my leg injuries i would love a bath because they ache so bad D:  
26.  team cap or team ironman:  umm i don’t know?? I’m not gonna choose sorry
27.  fantasy or sci-fi: Fantasy but scifi is awesome!
28. do you have three or four  favourite quotes? if so what are they: Presume not that I am the thing I was - Shakespeare Henry V
The planets and heavens will move for you. - this is a quote from a poem @deaded123/ @breathingtheworldinwords wrote for me which is my favourite poem
I am constantly coming across quotes i want ot remember but i never write them down so yeah...
29.  youtube or netflix: netflix
30.  harry potter or percy jackson: Harry potter but am currently working my way through the percy jacksons series which i do enjoy and rick riordan is an awesome human!
31.  when you feel accomplished: when i remember how far i’ve come from what i was and how hard i’ve fought to be where i am now. Also I once forgot what happened in a battle on an history exam so proceeded to talk about the battle of helms deep and cut the orcs and elves. I got 100% on that paper. ;)
32.  star wars or star trek: star wars......it was my childhood and i love it so much
33.  paperback books or hardback books: i do love me a good hardback but my paperbacks have kept me company for a long time
34. horror or rom-com: ummm i’m not great at horror but it depends so i’d probs watch the rom com and just be cynically sarcastic throughout...(the fact that i enjoy rom coms when i’m not great and actual romance annoys myself)
35.  to live in a world without literature or music: that is just mean :P but i’d have to chose literature as my life is based around stories
36.  pastel colours or dark colours: dark definitely!! other people look aweosme in pastels but i don’t like wearing them and honeslty just feel kind of suspicious of them as a colour group (i have no idea why i have such storng opinions on pastels or why i am suspicious...)
37.  tv shows or movies: Tv shows as you go through so much more. Also it suits my attention span better
38.  city or countryside: can i have like a town?? i love the countryside but i also need to be around other people or i get very morbid
39.  if any other zodiac sign could describe you, what would it be: i don’t understand??i’m a leo and honeslty haven’t looked at the others enough to know the traits!
40.  if you could only listen to one album for the rest of your life what would it be: i would currently choose one of sia’s albums as just yes
41.  cinema or theatre: cinema because i love films but i do enjoy theatre
42.  if you could be any fictional character’s best friend, who’d you be: hmmmmmmmm i honeslty don’t know as my favs are people like me but being around someone like me as a best friend is kind of an odd thought...pass?
43.  smiling or smirking: smiling to me means just being free and comfortable to be happy and smirking in my mind is the silly little in jokes that tyou have with friends in the middle of a conversation or when you’ve thought of something inappropriately funny both of which i do a lot.
44.  are you an ‘all or nothing’ type or are you more consistent: all or nothing probably
45.  playlists or your whole library on shuffle: shuffle because i’m too lazy to make playlists
46.  travelling or staying at home: Travelling,but i like to have a base somewhere. but yeah i get bored of places easily and am not attached to anywhere as a ‘home’ as a concept i’ve never really got that feeling about anywhere? um it’s hard to explain so i’m just gonna stop cos i don’t know what my point is
47.  books or fanfiction: both are literature and they’re both stories and i fucking love stories in all forms! right now i’m reading more fanfiction because when i need to work lets get lost in emotions about fictional characters right?! but seriously i have a bunch of favourite fanfics which i keep rereading and most are novel length so like not much of  a difference!
48.  If you could live in a fantasy world, what world would it be: the chronicles of ixia world probably but like god there are so many that i’d want to be in!!
49. your favorite cartoon: um i don’t really watch that many cartoons... cacn i claim the Dragons tv series that accompanies httyd? it’s animated......
50.  name the weirdest five songs on your itunes, current or past: um ok so i have a bit of  a weird thing about my music in that i don’t like talking about it too much...i’m getting better but yeah i don’t want to answer this :)
51. mountains or plains: Mountains!!!!!!! they give me liiiiiiiiiife
52. favorite anime (or tv show if you don’t watch anime): Yuri on ice is the first anime i’ve watched and honeslty have fallen in love with it and it has ruined my world right now (it’s what my anxieties are currently directed out instead of at my work which i’m cool with) and the only other one i’ve seen is ouran high school host club which i actually watched half of yesterday whilst working as a friend loves it, it’s amusing :)
53. which social media platform are you most like yourself on: err i don’t really do social media much. i have facebook to talk to uni people, a couple of group chats with home people and it’s the only contact i have with my dad’s side of the fam as most don’t live in england but i don’t actually post anything except about work i’ve got donea dn funny photos of my friends. obvs i have tumblr which i overshare about myself way too much but this is probs a very accurate summary of my shit sense of humour, tv shows, and everything else in my head! though i do sometimes get concerned about my oversharing on here cos y’know internet safetyand all D: oh i have snapchat too but i mainly use it to talk to 2 friends one is in germany so i can’t ring her like i used to and the other we pretty much just send each other selfies with a lot of heart emojis! i’ve been debating getting instagram but haven’t decided yet...
54. What are some of your passions:anyone that knows me or reads my frequent oversharing will know i work in costume stuff so yeah i can literally talk about costuming and historic fashions for days and not get bored so yeha don’t ask about that unless you ready to learn!! ;) um i’m also an archery instructor, really love drawing, and just yeah the various tv, film and book obsessions that i go through (currently it’s yoi but i do try and keep my obsession from fully taking ove rthis blog-80% of it is still my shit sense of humour
55. Favourite food: I will fight everyone to get a proper roast dinner with yorkshire puddings and also chocolate.....and pomegranates.....and sugar snap peas......
This was fun!!!
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