floating into the air

I would even miss you
if you were sitting right next to me
but now you’re a million miles away
and I’m sinking into a sea

of spinning thoughts
and spiraling emotions,
gasping for air
and floating in oceans

that are ready and about
to flood my safe oasis
and you haunt my dreams
as featureless faces.

—  // you left my chest wide open
j.d.m.
2

If Gwen were to ever meet IT’s “human form” Robert ‘Bob’ Gray. Let’s just say that will not be a good encounter for her….


Gwen’s eyes were wide with fear and puzzlement. The clown that had been there was gone and instead there stood a male. She should have been relieved to have someone here to help her but the sight of blood on his face made her think otherwise. No….the fear was still there and it grew the more he intensely stared at her.  

Fall, falling, fallen. That’s the way the season
Changes its tense in the long-haired maples
That dot the road; the veiny hand-shaped leaves
Redden on their branches (in a fiery competition
With the final remaining cardinals) and then
Begin to sidle and float through the air, at last
Settling into colorful layers carpeting the ground.
At twilight the light, too, is layered in the trees
In a season of odd, dusky congruences—a scarlet tanager
And the odor of burning leaves, a golden retriever
Loping down the center of a wide street and the sun
Setting behind smoke-filled trees in the distance,
A gap opening up in the treetops and a bruised cloud
Blamelessly filling the space with purples.
Everything
Changes and moves in the split second between summer’s
Sprawling past and winter’s hard revision, one moment
Pulling out of the station according to schedule,
Another moment arriving on the next platform.
It Happens almost like clockwork: the leaves drift away
From their branches and gather slowly at our feet,
Sliding over our ankles, and the season begins moving
Around us even as its colorful weather moves us,
Even as it pulls us into its dusty, twilit pockets.
And every year there is a brief, startling moment
When we pause in the middle of a long walk home and
Suddenly feel something invisible and weightless
Touching our shoulders, sweeping down from the air:
It is the autumn wind pressing against our bodies;
It is the changing light of fall falling on us.
—  Edward Hirsch, from “Fall,” Wild Gratitude (Random House, 1986)

Okay, so I’m looking at this screenshot and it makes me wonder…

Every character in Super Mario Run has a particular gimmick about them, right? Yoshi can run over spikes, and Peach has her slow descent because of her dress. And Luigi, of course, can jump really high.


But what could Daisy’s be?


I know a lot of people’s first answer would probably assume something akin to Peach’s mid-air float because of the dress, but that move has already been taken, and I don’t think Nintendo would want to go down that whole “Peach clone” route, since everyone has to be different. I was also gonna suggest that maybe she could jump pretty high like Luigi but the same goes for that, too; once someone has a certain gimmick I don’t think anyone else is gonna take it (except the Toads and Yoshi but they’re literally all clones of each other since they’re the same species).


Maybe I’m reading a little too far into this, but there’s a small puff of smoke close by where she is. Could that be part of whatever special ability she has, like a smaller second mid-air mini-jump followed by a slow descent? Or could it be like her special in the Olympic games spin-offs where she gets a flower boost? Or is it just part of an enemy she’s recently stomped on?


NINTENDO I NEED ANSWERS AND I CAN’T WAIT 4 MORE DAYS TO GET THEM. DAMMIT.

2

Here are Memon (baby I, right) and Sabamon (baby II, left) the previous forms of Kudzumon! The following ones are Suimon and Gabomon, the previous forms I headcanon for Gizamon. :3
Though their bodies look similar, unlike Pukamon, Gabomon can’t float in the air; and since its back fins are too small to help it hop, it crawls on the ground.

thinking about how when i had my first kiss i was floating on air and it was all i could think about but i couldnt gush to a single friend about it bc i wasnt out :( it was so lonely to have something so good and magical and lifechanging and not a single friend to share it with

anonymous requested: Oi ! i really like ur writings and was wondering if you do bill skarsgard/pennywise stuff ? if you do can you write a oneshot where Y/N plays the older sister (like shes in her twenties or smth) of beverly and pennywise kills her ? but Bill Skarsgard (he plays Pennywise) has a thing for Y/N and really hopes to impress her but it kinda goes wrong in someway ? idek but it’s been a idea i’ve had for ages ! thankss !  

Warnings: Spoilers -? Maybe? IT is a horror movie so, murder and choking. Also brief brief brief topics of vomit.

Word Count: 1880

A/N: I’m fully aware this is one shot is a bit bizarre and definitely a specific niche (not one that I share necessarily) but I feel like I need to preface this by saying this is simply just for fun. PSA Bev Marsh doesn’t have an older sister Y/N’s role is purely for this work

Originally posted by romanandme

Ever since Y/N got the call telling her she, Y/N L/N, was to play the part of Laura Marsh, her stomach still hasn’t unfolded itself. It was still all balled up in the pit of her lower abdomen, like she could hurl at any time. It had been there through the three months of filming they had done and she concluded that it would probably never leave.

Her character didn’t play much of a part in the loser’s club, but Y/N’s character was given her own story in the film. She was Laura Marsh, the real town ‘slut’  even though she often used her little sister Bev as a scapegoat. She hung out with Patrick Hocksetter and Henry Bower, and was usually one of Bev and the loser’s tormentors. Laura was a bitch by all standards of convention, even Y/N could admit, which was her death scene was supposed to be simultaneously terrifying and reliving.  

Y/N watched as the loser’s from her black chair as they played hand games and laughed together on the pavement. The blacktop was so hot! She thought, how the hell did they stand it? Y/N technically had only stopped being a kid three years ago (she was 21 now) but she still could never remember a time where she was so uncaring.

“Do ya’ know when they’re gonna start already? Jesus lets just get on with the scene already!” The slightly squeaky voice of Nicholas Hamilton (Henry Bowers) abruptly asked beside her. Three months ago she would’ve jumped, but now she didn’t even think about it. She heard a chair scraping against the ground and it groaned with the weight of Nick’s body. She turned and smiled at him, placing her thick and annotated script onto her lap. He was wearing an orange wife beater tanktop and Y/N could see redness on his shoulders beginning to form.

“Whoa I die in this scene! You want me gone that much, huh?” Y/N asked, feigning hurt as she chuckled lightly. It was the most unfortunate death for poor Laura Marsh, first she was kissed and then left by her boyfriend (which just so happened to be Henry Bowers) in the sewers of all places, then she was brutally ripped apart by a clown wearing his face. Y/N knew that the younger actor was anxious for his first on-screen make out (he had told her so time and time again) but she hoped the playful conversation would calm his nerves.  

Y/N was nervous too but for a different reason entirely. She was an experience actress, she had crossed all the necessary rights of passage, yet she was so nervous. Y/N had talked to Bill Skarsgard twice and she couldn’t shake her stupid, girlish crush. She hardly knew the guy for fuck’s sake! She had wanted so much to come from this movie, It was her first big production movie, but now she was most certainly gonna screw up. How the hell could she pretend to be terrified of the guy when she was secretly thinking ‘I want you to rub my mouth on your mouth’?

“No! No!” Nick assured, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “It’s not the death I’m looking forward to,” he whispered under his breath not so subtly. A few moments of hot silence followed before he reached over and grabbed the script from Y/N’s lap. He lazily fanned himself with it boyishly.

“You’ve got another coupla scenes after this so it’s not like you’re not going anywhere!” He joked as he tried in vain to cool himself off. His voice was shaking slightly and his laughs were constrained, like he wasn’t breathing in enough. Y/N cocked her eyebrow and waited for a few seconds before she made a lunge for her script. She, of course, missed it and hit her elbow on the wooden arm rest of his chair.

“C’mon why do you carry this thing anyhow? Everyone knows you memorized this thing cover to cover the instant you got it.” Nick teased stretching his arm away from Y/N as he peered at all of her highlights and somewhat embarrassing notes.

Y/N tried to crack a smile, but it was true, she did take it everywhere. How could she not? How else could she ensure she’d pull through? Besides was it so wrong for her to make sure everything went perfectly?

Nevertheless, she was beginning to suspect that Nick knew something that he shouldn’t, that sneaky little son of a bitch. She was about to reply with a typical snarky remark but she was interrupted by Andy (the director) shouting, “Y/N, Nick, and Bill - Scene 6 please!” Her heart sank as her body began to move without her brain’s consent. Nick had already jumped up and ran over to Andy enthusiastically. Meanwhile, Y/N’s thighs peeled up from her chair and she awkwardly waddled over to join them.

Andy took one glance at her before waving a makeup artist down and whispering in her ear. How ironic that this makeup artist looked like a scary clown herself, what with all that highlighter. The girl took a dry rag and began to dab Y/N’s face a bit, before she was pulled onto set by someone’s face she didn’t even get to see.

Nick grabbed Y/N’s hand and lightly guided her into position, awaiting Andy to shout “Action!” Y/N could still see the kids offscreen playing their hand games, but now one of them had begun throwing little balls of mud.  

“Alright! Is everyone in position?!” Andy asked looking around as if he were waiting for someone to point out a problem. He nodding to the man holding the slate, before loudly shouting “AND ACTION!”

Nick immediately pushed Y/N’s hips up against the walls of the sewers and she giggled obnoxiously. His lips roughly greeted hers in a strained, but very teenager, kiss. The kiss lasted only for a couple of seconds before he pulled away and wiped his mouth, following the script to a tee.

“You’re getting better.” He commented rudely and went back to give her another kiss. But Y/N’s character, Laura pushed his chest back, “What the fuck is that supposed to mean, Henry?” Y/N made sure to smack her lips together, to cock her head, and roll her eyes.

“It means that I thought sluts like you were supposedta’ be good at kissin’. But I guess sluts aren’t really known for their kissin’ anyways.” Again, Nick went in for a kiss, but Y/N pushed him back and feigned disbelief.  

Only open your mouth slightly, stop cocking your head, frown, stare, make your eyes water Y/N went through exactly what she had to do in the mirror time and time again, perfecting every part of her express- Crap, lower your chin and …. cry!

Nick glanced at her, though by now her character was balling. “You’re a fucking crazy bitch. You know that right? How much do you charge again?” He asked so sourly the words curdled in his mouth.

“Just get the fuck outta here!” Y/N yelled and she could see, out of her peripheral vision, Andy mouthing along to the words. Nick smirked evilly, before exiting the set and giving her an encouraging off screen thumbs up. Y/N slumped down and cried pathetically, just as it was written. But eventually she stood and stumbled around in the sewers, crying all the way. She could feel the presence of the camera over her shoulder as it followed her like a ghost. Abruptly, the sound of demonic laughter reverberated around the metal of the sewer hitting Y/N’s ears. Bill was too good at that. It made the hair on the back of her neck stand. Her character stopped walking and wiped her nose with the back of her cranberry colored sweatshirt.

A floating red balloon bobbed through the air as it came softly down to where Y/N was standing. It bobbed so peacefully (like the script had said), so her character tried to reach out to get it like a  young child. Perhaps poor slut Laura Marsh needed comfort too, Y/N pondered.

“AND PENNYWISE GO!” Andy shouted, marking where CGI would be used to create a horrifying, deformed hell version of Bill’s beautiful face. Y/N jumped and let out a throaty, raspy scream, the same scream she was hired for. She felt cold hands on her sweatshirt before she saw Bill, but once she did she couldn’t help to scream again. It was nightmarish, with his enlarged forehead and pointed smile.

The clown pinned Y/N up against the wall, which would’ve actually choked her if it had not been for the slight incline that let her tiptoes hang on. She gasped and sputtered, still crying and struggling pathetically. “HO HO HEHEHE!” The clown laughed in her ear and the sound shocked her so much that Y/N lost her footing, her toes couldn’t get a grip on the wet floor of the sewer. Bill was already so much taller than her at 6’4” that in order to deliver the lines properly, he had begun brought her up to his face. She gripped tightly onto his gloved hands as she coughed and began to feel a bit light headed as he continued to laugh maniacally.

Just kill me already! Y/N painfully thought, she would hate to be the reason for the failed take. But Pennywise, or Bill, never seemed to talk fast enough and Y/N was really beginning to feel the effects as she tried desperately to gulp in air.

“I - I,” Wheeze. “C-c-can’t-t,” Wheeze.  

Immediately like a switch had been pulled, she felt the pressure on her throat release as she fell to the ground into the disgusting water. She gulped in sweet air like she had never breathed before and Andy, god bless him, finally shouted “Cut!”

“Y/N! Are you alright!? I really didn’t mean to! I mean I thought maybe - but - I’m so sorry!” Pennywi- Bill shouted, helping her up by placing his hand on the small of her back. It was so odd hearing him be so gentle and polite while wearing such a terrifying costume. His eyes, which five seconds ago where full of such rage, now were softened and sad. “I can’t believe I didn’t notice,” Bill said exasperatedly and guided her over to where Andy sat, all the while she was still breathing in and out deeply.

“Y/N! Y/N! What happened!” Y/N heard the voices of the child actors as they ran over to inspect the situation.

“It was the heat you dufas!” One of the kids proclaimed obviously, as they patted her shoulder. But all Y/N could focus on was the sound of her heart beating as she panted heavily.

“I’m …  fine guys.” Y/N confirmed as she rubbed her neck tenderly. Now that she finally had air in her lungs, the pain of where Bill’s fingers had wrapped around her throat set in.

“I’m so sorry,” Bill repeated as he tried to give her kindest smile he could, buck tooth, blood drenched and everything.

Downstream - ~1k, post 12.23 / pre s13, angst

The ocean is a flat plane of glass, and the boat doesn’t cause a single ripple as it glides along the surface. Dean has no idea how they managed to drift out so far, but somehow they’ve completely lost sight of the shoreline. The only indication of the horizon is the thinnest, faintest line; a stray hair caught in a watercolour canvas.

It’s light out, the air around him a diffusion of pink and gold and reflected back in the water’s mirror surface, but he can’t find the sun. Perhaps it’s nearing dawn.

Dean’s leaning back against the bow, hands behind his head. The gunwales are kind of digging into his shoulders, but he’s smiling.

His companion is silent and placid where he sits near the stern. The light is catching the tips of his hair, setting off the dark with glints of gold. Clasped hands hang between splayed knees.

Dean inhales thick, salt air and lets his eyes drift closed. “This was a good idea. We needed a vacation.”

“You deserve it.”

Dean hums, contented. “You too. Hell, we’ve all been through the ringer lately.”

Cas nods. “I suppose we have.”

Their voices float easily through the air, but in the space all around them it’s perfectly quiet, save the occasional soft, gentle slap of water against the boat.

“Seriously, we shoulda done this years ago.”

“When?” Cas asks, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “After the apocalypse, but before the leviathan? Maybe between the Mark of Cain and Amara?”

“Anybody ever tell you you’re kind of a downer, Cas?” Dean replies peaceably.

“Once or twice.”

Another long and companionable silence stretches out between them. They’ve been out here a while now and the sun probably should’ve risen, but it’s hardly a concern: the glow of light around them is warm enough. In fact, Dean could probably afford to take off his jacket, were he not far too comfortable to move.

“Dean. How long do you plan to stay out here?”

Dean cracks one eye. “What, you got somewhere to be?”

Cas’ answering smile is fond, and only slightly tinged with sadness. “No.”

“That’s what I thought.” Dean drops his eyelid.

“It’s just, there are things you need to do.”

Both Dean’s eyes open now, and he leans all the way up to sit on the hard, wooden seat. The boat rocks and sways. “Yeah, Cas, there’s always something. But you are cutting into our hard-earned relaxation time, man. You keep this up, you can kiss that second date goodbye.”

“This is a date?”

Dean gives him a look. “You take a lot of platonic pre-dawn rowboat rides?”

“I suppose not,” Cas says, and he casts his eyes out to the water. “I’m just a little surprised.”

“But not disappointed.”

There’s a faint blush dusting Cas’ cheeks. Maybe it’s just the light. “No.”

“Because you love me.” Cas’ eyebrows rocket up to his hairline, and Dean shrugs defensively. “Hey, you said it, not me.”

“Well, that’s certainly true.”

Dean’s gotta give him that one. “Touché.”

Cas is looking at him patiently, waiting.

Feeling rather like a third-grader forced to answer a question he wasn’t listening to in the first place, Dean casts his eyes down, suddenly intensely interested in the rough woodgrain below his feet. The fact that the boat has no oars is a mild curiosity.

“I dunno,” Dean shrugs. “Probably shoulda said it then. Guess I just figured you knew.”

“Because you’re always so open and honest with your feelings.”

That’s two points to Cas.

Dean plays for time a while longer, scraping his boots through the coarse, black sand he tracked in from the beach. “Alright, well, there it is. Better late than never, right?”

This time Cas doesn’t bother trying to hide the heartache in his smile.

They sit in silence again, for minutes or maybe hours. Eventually Cas looks left to the non-existent sun. “It’s probably time to go back,” he says quietly.

Dean shakes his head. “Nah. Little longer.”

“You have responsibilities, Dean.”

Dean scoffs. “What, you mean Rosemary’s baby?”

“He didn’t ask to be what he is.”

“He’s the literal antichrist, Cas.”

Whatever he is,” Cas says firmly, “good or evil, he needs someone. He needs guidance.”

“He needs a bullet in the neck.”

Cas shakes his head. “You don’t mean that. He’s an innocent, Dean. And he needs you and Sam, now that I can’t be there for him anymore.”

Something flickers in Dean’s chest, like a moth beating against his heart. He frowns, confused, and finds Cas’ eyes.

The intent expression on Cas’ face gradually shifts to one of resignation. He sighs softly. “You forgot again, didn’t you?”

Dean jolts awake to a blaring car horn.

Sam is driving, the hideous sodium streetlights casting harsh lines of shadow across his face when he turns to the passenger seat. “You were talking again.”

Dean doesn’t answer as he reacquaints himself with the deep, aching chasm in his chest.

Sam swallows visibly, shadows of raindrops on the windshield like pockmarks on his skin. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Dean grits his teeth. “Yeah, Sam. There were these clowns. Like thirty of ‘em, and they all kept piling out of this Volkswagon.” The lie slides easy off his tongue.

Sam throws up a hand in surrender. “Okay.”

Anger is easier. Anger is always easier.

Dean closes his eyes tight and tries to chase the soft, pink-gold light of the ocean. He inhales Baby’s familiar leather scent, desperate for a whiff of salt air.

He tries to forget.


(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5)

We have about 6 players and we’re taking a rest at an inn. It’s a one-stop town so some of us are resting and others are out doing stuff. It’s DARK. Nads (elf) and Ardar (human) are hunting a bear. Except Ardar can’t see in the dark. At all. Luckily Nads can and they’ve resorted to tying a rope to eachother to make sure Ardar doesn’t get lost. They finally find the bear they’ve been tracking.

DM: roll.
Nads: *rolls low, trips falls and not only takes damage but also damage from the bear*

Nads, now at 2 hp (ooc): I tug on the rope once to tell Ardar to pull me back.

DM: okay..Ardar-you feel one solid strong tug. What do you do?

Ardar (ooc): …I follow the rope.

Nads(ooc): what are you doing you’re going to die were both going to die in the woods you can’t SEE.

DM: you follow the rope, one hand holding it to guide you, the other out stretched. You touch somthing fuzzy. Not really soft, more of a prickly kinda stiff-

Ardar (ooc): I CAST LIGHTING BOLT ON THE THING IM TOUCHING.

DM, with a long sigh: …are you sure? This is the only chance I’m giving you if you mess up both of you could die.

Ardar(ooc): YES. *rolls a nat 20*

DM: OKAY WELL….You did it..fuck…with a burst of Electric power through your hand the bear takes enough damage to not only die, but you’ve cooked it. A little bit overdone, as the smell of burnt flesh floats through the air..it falls to the ground, very dead and very very cooked.

Ardar: hey nads you okay I got you some dinner.

Nads, failing to stand up: I’m not eating that and also fuck you.

Dead Serious

Request: hey could you do one with peter, where the reader is studying and, he just wants to hangout with her so he gets whiny and so the reader says “let me finish and we can make out for much long as you like” and then they do. Lots of fluff please :)

A/N: I think I have a problem where because my favourite thing is friends who eventually get together, I never write an “hey we’re already dating" type fic, and this would totally be a prefect one of those but LOL IMA NOT DO THAT STILL. Yikes, sorry if this wasn’t what you were looking for. Lol I’m also gonna do a smutty Part 2.

Word Count: 1338

Masterlist

Part 2 // Part 3

T-48 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEMISTRY EXAM

“And students, please remember that your midterm will be in exactly two days starting precisely when the bell rings, so do not be late,” your teacher said.

Peter leaned over next to you, “Are we studying tonight?”

“I can’t, but how about tomorrow night?” You whispered, trying to make sure the teacher doesn’t hear you.

“What? Got a hot date tonight or something? Too good to see me?” Peter joked.

“If you count a hot date as studying for my French midterm tomorrow, then yes,”

“Y/L/N, Mr Parker, do you have something to share with the class?” Your teacher called back at you.

“Actually, I was wondering if you could go over the different types of reactions one more time, I was struggling with memorizing them and I was just asking Peter for help, but it would be great if you could go over them,” you lied.

Your teacher eyed the two of you before turning around to the chalk board and began writing out different reactions.

“Nice save,” Peter whispered.

“Well one of us had to say something, and since you can’t lie for your life, that duty falls on me,“

“I can so lie,”

“Sure Peter, and I have a pet unicorn,”

“Hey!”

“We go over this all the time, you can’t lie, and that’s exactly why you need me as a best friend,”

“What about Ned?” Peter asked.

“He needs me for the same reason too,”

T-40 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM

Peter: Hey Y/N

Y/N: How may I be of service

Peter: Can you paint me like one of your French girls?

Y/N: Peter, why can’t you just let me study?

Peter: Because i’m bored

Y/N: Go bother Ned, i’m busy.

Peter: He has a midterm tomorrow too, he won’t answer my texts.

Y/N: Well how about this, you let me study now and I will entertain you tomorrow after we study ;)

Peter: ugh fine

Peter: But what’s with the winky face?

Y/N: Peter.

Peter: Sorry!

T-39 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM

Peter: I’m still curious about the winky face

Y/N: How’s this Parker, you leave me alone tomorrow and I’ll go down on you when we finish studying

Peter didn’t respond for a while

Y/N: Peter did you die?

Peter: You aren’t serious

Y/N: Dead serious.

Y/N: I’ll see you tomorrow ;)

T-24 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM

You were sitting in chemistry, barely listening to your teacher ramble on about the different formulas you will need to know for tomorrow when Peter elbowed you to get your attention.

“Are you ready for your French exam?” He whispered.

“No! I’m so nervous. I can read it really well and understand it when someone speaks to me, but I have to write the entire exam in French and I don’t know if i’ll actually do well,”

“Y/N, you doodle in French for gods sake, I think you’ll be fine,”

“I know, i’m just nervous,”

“Listen to me, you’re going to do extremely well, as always. You’ve been taking French for years, you’ve got this in the bag,”

“Mr Parker! Something you would like to share with the rest of us?” the teacher interrupted.

Peter froze, he began stammering out a few words in response to the teacher when you cut in, “Sorry Ms, I was quizzing Peter on elements and their correlating atomic number. We didn’t mean to speak that loud,”

“Studying is for your free time, M®(s) Y/L/N, not class time. Please pay attention and study some other time,”

“Of course Ms. Our apologizes,”

The teacher turned back to the board and continued talking about what she had previously written.

“You need to quit talking so loud. There are only so many lies I can tell,”

T-21 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM

At lunch you ran into the car and joined Peter and Ned at your lunch table.

“So?” Peter said

“How did you do?” Peter added.

“Fabulously! I know I did well. I’m about 95% sure I got an A on the exam. I’m so proud of myself. I actually understood what I was reading and what I wrote. I’m feeling really confident about it,”

“That’s awesome Y/N! I told you you’d do great. I’m proud of you,” Peter said.

“Let’s just wait and see how well I do on the chemistry midterm, and then you can decide whether you’re proud of me or not,”

“We’re still on for our study date tonight, right?“ Peter asked.

Ned looked up from his notes where he was studying for his exam in the afternoon.

“Wait, you two are going on a date? Finally. Took you two long enough. You can cut the sexual tension In here with a knife,”

“What?” You choked out

“We-we’re not going on a date. We said study date, Ned,” Peter said.

“I’m going to Peter’s tonight so we can study for our chemistry exam tomorrow,”

“Ha, I get it, you guys are studying YOUR chemistry. Have fun kids, use a condom,” Ned said, standing up and beginning to collect his things, “Well i’m going to the library where there’s less tension floating through the air. Enjoy ‘studying’ tonight guys,”

You and Peter sat silently and waited Ned walk away.

Neither of you were really sure of what to say.

“So do you want to just walk to my place after school together then?” Peter said, eventually breaking the silence.

“Yep!” You agreed.

T-16 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM 

It was 4pm by the time you and Peter actually began studying, you were lying on his floor with your textbook and notes open around you while Peter was sitting at his desk.

You spent some time quizzing each other and going over notes before Peter began getting bored. This was once of his best subjects so he really didn’t need to study as hard as you did for this class.

T-13 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTEM CHEM EXAM

You had been studying for three hours and Peter had started whining approximately two hours previous.

You were still on Peter’s floor surrounded by your study notes. Peter had moved to his bed and was lying down.

“Y/N,“ He whined.

“Yes, dear,” you said, not taking your attention away from what you were reading.

“How much longer do we have to study? i’m booooorrreeeddd. We already know all of this,”

“You already know all of this,” you corrected him.

“But Y/N, you know it toooooo,”

“Peter, hon, if you don’t shut up, or just help me study I might lose my mind,”

“You’ll have to make me stop talking,”

“Okay Peter, how’s this? Let me study now, and later we can make out for as long as you’d like, and maybe I’ll even go down on you,”

Peter sat up, “Wh-what?”

“I feel like at this point, my lips on yours is one sure way that you won’t be talking,”

“I-i- are you serious?” He questioned.

“Dead serious Parker, give me half an hour to review the rest of my notes and you can have your tongue down my throat for as long as you’d like,”

Peter’s eyes widened, and he shut up. You didn’t hear a peep out of him for the next half hour.

T-12 HOURS UNTIL THE MIDTERM CHEM EXAM

When you were finally done reviewing your notes, you put them back into your folder and stood up.

Peter sat on his bed, watching you.

“Were you really serious before, or were you just trying to get me to shut up?” Peter asked.

“I told you, Parker. I’m dead serious,”

For the lovey @miyeongi-cutie who suggested a bakery AU that I am OBSESSED WITH!!! Hope you like it! 🖤
~~~~~
“So where are we going again?” Shiro asked as he threw an arm around Keith’s neck, drawing him in and ruffling his hair.
“Hey, stop it! Get off!” Keith ducked out from his grip and shoved him away, trying to fix his hair. “Why are you like this, you’re so annoying!” Shiro chuckled and nudged him with his elbow. “I’m your big brother. It’s my job to annoy you. Now, answer the question.”
Keith rolled his eyes and muttered “Adopted brother. Anyway, we’re going to this cafe or bakery place that Pidge won’t stop talking about. Says their coffee is really good and the food is ‘better than free wifi.’”
Shiro raised his eyebrows until they nearly disappeared under his tuff of hair.
“Better than free wifi? Pidge said that? Huh, wow. They must be really good then.”
Keith hummed in agreement and stuffed his hands in his red jacket, pulling it closer. Shiro smiled at the action zipped up his black and gray jacket, burying his nose into it.

It was late fall, and the breeze held a chilly bit. The wind whispered of winter, and the trees had begun to shed their leaves, some of which where floating in the air, softly floating the the ground. Shiro was enjoying the slight crunch they made when he stepped on them when Keith grabbed his arm.
“Hey, I think this is it.”
Shiro stopped and observed the building before them. It was a simple building, one that you could easily pass if you weren’t looking for it. The building was made out of worn brick, with a chalkboard sign in front the entrance that read: ‘Welcome to Voltron! Please do not touch pastries with your hands. Use your tongue.’ Shiro chuckled at the sign while Keith just stared.
“What kind of a name is Voltron?”
Shiro shrugged.
“I have no idea, but you have to admit, it is a pretty unique name that would be hard to forget. Now come on, I’m getting hungry.”
Shiro opened the door and was immediately hit with a wall of delicate dents of vanilla, sugar, cinnamon, the roast of coffee beans, and other heavenly scents. Keith moaned at the smell and Shiro couldn’t blame him. The smell almost made him weak in the knees.

They walked into the shop and looked around. It was a very cozy cafe. Their were multiple colored booths and chairs and even beanbags, coming in black, blue, red, green, and yellow. They was stools along the bar, and there was a glass case full of desserts and pastries that had Shiro’s mouth watering. Shiro was about to press his face right up against the glass when I kind voice greeted them.
“Hey! Welcome to Voltron!”
Keith and Shiro turned toward the voice and saw a bolder of man in its place. He was wearing cargo shorts and a yellow shirt accompanied with a yellow apron. His hair was tied back with a bandana, and had a name rage that read ‘Hunk.’ Keith read it and arched an eyebrow at him, and Hunk just laughed.
“Yeah, before you ask, it’s real. Everybody calls me that.”
Shiro smiled and greeted him. “It’s nice to meet you Hunk. My name’s Shiro and this is Keith. Pidge suggested this place and highly recommended it.”
Hunk’s eyes lit up and gave them a beaming smile. “Oh Pidge! Yeah I know them! Me and Lance have become friends with them because they come so much. Oh! And Lance is the pastry king. I’m the coffee master, so it evens out.”
Shiro nodded and turned his attention to Keith. “Hey Keith, do you-Keith?”
Keith was not listening to either of them, eyes glued to a small white cup on the register, face furiously red. Shiro looked at him with a confused look before picking up the cup that was causing Keith’s dilemma. When Shiro read the cup, he sputtered and started laughing loudly, cheeks slightly flushing.
Hunk cocked his head. “What? What is it?”
Shiro turned the cup to Hunk, who could clearly read the font in neat loopy handwriting: “Just put your tip in here. See how it feels.” Hunk immediately paled and then change to a shade of purple then red. He quickly grabbed the cup and threw it away.
“LANCE THAT IS SO INAPPROPRIATE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
They were able to hear mad cackling in the back of the cafe where the kitchen was. Hunk turned back to them, straightening his apron, flush still on his cheeks.
“I’m so sorry, that won’t happen again. So, uh, what would you like to order?”

Shiro peered at the menu, tapping a finger against his chin. He looked at Keith who just shrugged, as lost as he was.
Shiro turned back to Hunk. “What do you recommend?”
Hunk’s eyes lit up and he clapped his hands together.
“Oh man, where do I start? Everything Lance makes is amazing. Hmm, let’s go with something exotic. How about miguelitos and tarta de Santiago?”
Keith furrowed his brow. “What the heck are those?”
Hunk chuckled.
“Oh yeah, sorry miguelitos is this pastry that is made up of like a million thin pastry layers and each layer is filled with chocolate or cream. It’s then dusted with powdered sugar. Tarta de Santiago is a really thin, moist almond cake. Powdered sugar is on top of it as well. As you probably guessed, their both Hispanic desserts. Lance likes to show off his heritage.”

Shiro hummed gave him a smile. “Alright! We’ll get both of those, and I’ll get an espresso. Keith?”
Keith looked at the menu again. “Do you have soy milk?”
Hunk nodded and smile.
“Okay, I’ll just have a hot chocolate. With extra whipped cream on top.”
Shiro chuckled.
Keith glared at him. “What?”
“Oh nothing, nothing! Just glad to see my little brother growing up.”
Shiro laughed hard as Keith flushed and punched him in the arm as he paid Hunk.

He put the change into the new tip cup and went to sit down at table in the corner. It wasn’t long before they had sat down when Hunk brought them their food, perfectly balancing them on a small tray.
“Order up! I hope you like it!” Hunk sent them a smile and went back to the counter.
Shiro looked at the coffee and food and inhaled deeply, the smell making his mouth water.
“Let’s not waste anymore time! Let’s dig in!” Keith and Shiro both reached for the miguelitos and popped it in their mouths. Shiro’s eyes fluttered closed as the pastry melted in his mouth, and chocolate covered every taste bud. He almost had to stifle a moan. And Keith wasn’t in any better shape. He was looking at the patty in awe, as if it held the secrets to the universe. He quickly looked up at Shiro.
“Wanna try the tarta thingy?”
“Oh heck yeah.”
Shiro and Keith both picked up a slice, gave a mock cheers, and bit into it with a crisp crunch. However, as soon as the cake met their tongues, it practically melted away. Keith grabbed both pastures and shoved them in his mouth at the same time.
“I am in heaven.”
Shiro opened his mouth to agree, when an excited voice cut him off.

“HUNK!! HUNK, I DID IT!! You’ve got to try this! I’ve combined a churro and a cupcake into one blessed love child!”
Shiro turned toward the voice, laughing with amusement in his eyes. He went to take a drink of his coffee, but that’s when he laid eyes on the excited baker. Shiro chocked on his coffee, spraying across the room and spluttering the hot liquid out of his lungs.
“Holy shit! Are you alright Shiro?”
Shiro ignored Keith’s concern and whipped around to get a better view of the baker. Said baker had warm mocha skin, as rich as the coffee he was drinking. His hair was a warm chocolate, shaggy and barely reaching the top of his eyes. And his eyes. Oh god his eyes. They were the deepest blue Shiro had ever seen, reminding him of the ocean and they were so bright with life and energy. And he was covered with flour, which Shiro found absolutely adorable. It was covering the front of his apron and was even smeared across one of his cheeks, and Shiro wanted nothing more than to brush it away with his thumb.
“Uh…Shiro?”
Keith waved a hand in front of Shiro’s face, who just knocked it out the way, leaning out of his seat. Keith followed his gaze and let out a long sigh when he realized what he was staring at. Keith kicked him in the shin, finally getting his attention.
“Seriously Shiro? Can please control your emotions.”
Shiro gave him a small pout, but still turned toward the boy. “Keith, oh Keith. He’s so pretty. No, gorgeous. Did you see his eyes? They’re so blue and beautiful.”
Keith groaned and dropped his head on the table.
“Shiro we came here to try the food, not try the baker.”
“I’m not complaining.”
“Shiro!!”

Shiro ignored his scandalous tone and continued to stare at the baker who was talking animatedly about his new creation, hands flying everywhere. Keith let out another long sigh and sat back in his chair.
“I am not ready for all this pining. You’re a mess Shiro. Remind me the curse Pidge for suggesting this place.”
“Well remind me to thank Pidge.”
Shiro then stepped out of his chair, walking toward the duo.
“S-Shiro?! Where are you going?”
Shiro tossed him a grin over his shoulder.
“Well, in going to introduce myself and give my compliments to the chef. Don’t want to be rude!”
Keith groaned and lightly banged his head on his table, cursing everything, especially Pidge. Somehow he knew they had set this up. He was going kill that gremlin. As soon he could get Shiro away from that baker who was throwing Shiro fingers guns along with a smirk. Keith groaned again. He had a feeling he would back to this cafe again. A lot.

Aries: “I want to be a star crackling like heaven’s fireworks”

Taurus: “I want to soak into the walls of a flower and remember how my soul smells”

Gemini: “I want to be a trickster pixie, getting words tangled in the sun”

Cancer: “I want to become the moon with eyes like lunar kaleidoscopes”

Leo: “I want to rise and shine like the sun, roaring and radiant”

Virgo: “I want to disappear into a shadow, forget who I am and remember my light, secretly holding the world together, existing as godly forever”

Libra: “I want to cradle the scales of justice in my hand, making judgments from the Soul”

Scorpio: “I want to dive into a cauldron, soak myself in sorcery, I want to vanish, create magic, become a mystery”

Sagittarius: “I want to break through the paint that holds the sky together, I want sun to fill my cheeks with laughter”

Capricorn: “I want to keep elevating into the vault of heaven, knotting constellations together so I can climb toward stars”

Aquarius: “I want to become air, a floating pocket of fizzling ideas. I want humanity to breathe the cool air in my lungs filled with love”

Pisces: “I want to become a mermaid, swimming toward the heaven under a wax lyrical, spiritual devotion, I want to be everything”

-C.