i hope you like these nell!

(comes onto your airwaves with a smooth, sensual voice)

hello ladies and gentlemen. its now 40 minutes past midnight here on the beautiful east coast, which means that june 12th is behind us and Admageddon 2017 has officially reached its conclusion. hope you all enjoyed watching it as much as we enjoyed making it happen. id like to thank rad @raddical for making our lovely ad and kicking off the whole event, nell @spritepepsi and robbie @kidgecko for their complementary ads, all our family at the good old dungeons & dirkjohn server for their support, and all you folks out there who pitched in without even being told and made this shit happen. it wouldnt have been possible without you. hope this was enough to fill the void in your heart over the lack of hiveswap news, and i hope andrew hussie enjoys the free money, the absolute bastard. im keegan swamp-wizard, bidding you a happy 612.

anonymous asked:

Hi! do you have any rec of artists who arent idols? like korean but not kpop??

I listed some artists and my favorite songs from them! Usually my favorites artists aren’t idols haha my preference is more R&B, underground, and indie bands. Hope some of them suit your taste :-)

for you. | jackson
- part one - 

- part two -

masterlist

words: 1,838
summary: superstar boyfriend jackson doesn’t take too kindly to your suggestion of giving up variety so he has more time for himself and for you.

a/n: hello, this is my first proper writing piece (on this blog since i gave up my 7k 5sos writing blog to start this one) in a while so i hope it’s not too bad for a first piece! also, if you liked it and think i should write a part two, do let me know, your support would mean everything, thank you!
-radhobi (nelles)


reaching home at midnight had become a more regular practice as of late. 

with jackson away all the time, you found taking up extra shifts - especially the closing shift, when it was all quiet and you got to take home pastries afterwards - a competent way of distracting yourself from missing your superstar boyfriend.

you couldn’t help but groan when you stepped into the hallway of the apartment you and jackson shared, pulling off your sneakers and freeing your toes from their canvas confines after a long day at the cafe. 

another groan escaped your mouth as you set your bag down on the couch, falling backwards into the pile of cushions you insisted on having on there, just for that very reason. 

you shut your eyes, too tired to force yourself up to shower and get ready for bed. your backpack poking into your side reminded you of the pile of work you had for the weekend and your face scrunched up as yet another groan slipped out of your mouth.

“is this what you do when i’m not here?”

your eyes flew open at the familiar voice and you looked up to see jackson leaning over the side of the couch, his fringe flopping over his eyes slightly, a raised eyebrow peeking through. 

“jax!” you yelled, making him wince at the volume and pitch of your shocked shriek. 

“jeez, i didn’t know we had a parrot.” he said, the side of his mouth quirked up in a playful smile. 

you threw yourself over the side of the couch with energy you didn’t know you still had in you, wrapping your arms around your boyfriend’s - surprisingly - covered torso, hugging him tight.

his arms automatically found their place on your waist as he planted a sweet kiss on the top of your head.

“when did you get back? why are you back? how long are you staying?” 

jackson laughed at your sudden bombardment of questions, pulling back from your hug to properly look at you.

as his eyes roamed your face, you suddenly became conscious of the amount of grease and smudged makeup that was the result of being out since eight in the morning without a chance to rest and touch up.

your hands flew from around him to cover your face. “oh god, the first time you see me in person in a while and its while i’m like this.” you said, your voice muffled by your hands.

gentle hands pried your own away from your face and jackson’s face appeared in front of you instead. 

“you don’t have to worry about a thing. you look beautiful right now.” he said sweetly, making you smile involuntarily. 

“besides, i’ve seen you dance and nothing you do to your face could be worse than that.” he added cheekily, yelling when your hand landed on his shoulder with a loud smack. he just couldn’t be romantic for more than a second.

both laughing, you let yourself be pushed into the bathroom, with jackson making annoying comments on how your hair smelled like cheese gone bad and your makeup looked like you smushed your face in cake.

succumbing to his ever-so-loving words, you showered as quickly as possible to get back out to him.

stepping out of the shower towel-drying your wet hair, you watched your boyfriend lean over his suitcase on the ground, fiddling with the piles of clothes he’d brought with him while filming one of the many variety shows he hosted in china. 

as you turned to your dressing table, plugging in the hair dryer, you kept your eyes on him through the mirror. “you can unpack tomorrow, jax, go get ready for bed and we can cuddle and you can answer all my questions.”

his answer was drowned out by the hair dryer and you gestured for him to wait till you were done to tell you.

an hour later, you were both in bed, your head on his pillow, his elbow next to it, holding his head up as he talked about filming. 

“ugh, i can’t tell you enough how happy i am that you’re back, the house has been way too quiet without your constant shouting.” 

“it’s good to be home.” he responded, his hand reaching around your body to pull you closer to him.

as you pressed your face into his neck and inhaled deeply, an exciting thought flashed into your mind.

you gasped, your eyes widening in realisation. “since you’re back, we can go to the annual college carnival this sunday! i was going to pass on it since going to a carnival alone didn’t seem like much fun and everyone else is either working the carnival or staying home to rush work but you now you can come with me!”

when jackson’s face didn’t light up in excitement as you thought it would, your own smile fell. “what’s wrong?” you asked.

his eyes flittered around, looking everywhere but in your own. “i can’t go to the carnival. i’m leaving again tomorrow, (y/n). got7′s comeback in three weeks and we need to pre-record shows.”

the only word you managed to squeeze out of yourself was “oh.” 

jackson sighed. “i’m sorry, i really am. i would’ve loved to go to the carnival with you.”

you managed a small smile, watching his sad eyes and increasingly pouty lips from sulking at not being able to stay long. “hey, it’s okay. they hold one every year so maybe next year you’ll be around to come with me.” you said, trying to reassure him.

jackson sighed once again, wrapping his hands around your body to pull you into him, resting his forehead on yours. “i’m really sorry for not being here enough, it’s just with the comeback nearing, schedule’s a lot more hectic in addition to the new show i’m hosting and i hardly have time for myself with all the flying back and forth and back and forth and i just-” he turned his body to push his face into a pillow and screamed in frustration.

in a second thought, he lifted his face from the pillow. “not that i don’t appreciate everything that i have. i love hosting shows and of course, got7 mean everything to me.”

“i get it, jax, you’re just tired right now, there’s no need to justify venting your frustration.” you said, running your hand along the back of head, through his hair, as he lay on his stomach, his face turned to look at you.

“when do you think you’ll stop it anyway?” you asked.

“stop what?”

“hosting.”

there was a brief moment of silence as jackson took in your words. “what do you mean stop hosting?” he asked, drawing back a little.

“like, stop doing all the variety shows you’re doing. now that got7′s huge and only getting bigger, you can’t juggle having got7 and hosting and a social life all at the same time.” you elaborated like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

which it was, to you, but had apparently never crossed jackson’s mind. 

“i’m just saying, jax, i hardly see you anymore and when i do, it’s like this. short periods of time. i miss having you around.” 

jackson sat up suddenly, much to your surprise. “so you’re telling me, that i should give up doing something i love, to be able to spend a bit more time with you?” 

“you make it sound like it’s a bad thing.” you commented, not liking the accusing tone he was using.

“you’re asking me to give up my dream career to be able to take you on dates, doesn’t that sound unbelievable to you? you’re lucky i even come back home at all. do you know how hard it is living away from the rest of the boys? how much extra planning has to go into schedules because i’m not as easy to reach?” jackson was practically yelling at this point.

his words were unbelievable to you. “i’m lucky to have you for three to four days at a time with 2 to 3 months in between of not seeing you?” you sat up to be face-to-face with him, your voice rising as well. “i’m lucky to have never been on more than 4 proper dates with you even though we’ve been together almost two years?” 

“you knew what you were getting into when we got together and you’ve been putting up with it for so long, why are you only complaining about this now?” he asked, a vein starting to show on his forehead, his face growing increasingly flushed in anger and frustration.

“i was trying to be supportive! but i was suffering, jackson. while you’re off touring the world or filming fun variety shows, i’m here! constantly waiting for you to get back! every time i think i don’t have to wait anymore to spend time with you, something else crops up and you rush to do it, without giving me a second thought.” jackson opened his mouth to protest but you continued. “when have you ever turned down a work thing for me, huh?”

you were aware of how selfish you sounded but as his girlfriend, you would have liked to have been chosen over work just once. you could imagine jackson saying: oh, actually, could we pass on this this time? i have to go home to see (y/n). of course, that was so far out of reach, even imagining it felt surreal.

jackson threw his hands in the air in disbelief. “do you hear yourself right now? oh, i’m so sorry i can’t just drop my entire career to fly home to be at your beck and call.”

it was your turn to scream in frustration. you could hardly believe the person in front of you was the same lovable, hyperactive jackson wang everyone else saw, the same one you fell in love with a couple years ago. 

“i am not asking you to drop everything for me, i never asked you to drop everything for me. i-”

“good, because i won’t. not for you.”

his words struck you hard. they made it seem as if you weren’t worth it and all your insecurities of having jackson meet someone he’d much rather be with rushed into your head, making a lump form in your throat.

“fine. then don’t.” you said, immediately throwing yourself back onto the bed, grabbing your pillow and shifting it to the edge of the bed, away from jackson, squeezing your eyes shut and swallowing hard to make sure you didn’t cry in front of him.

it took just a few seconds for jackson to lie down as well, and you knew if you turned around to check, he would be facing away from you.

pushing his face and his words out of your head, you willed yourself to sleep. as you drifted into slumber, your self-control faltered and a single tear rolled down the side of your face and onto the pillow.

-

og link on my blog: part 1 / part 2

anonymous asked:

Request: 2 girls get the stomach virus. Both are in a vomitey/feverish/bone crushing chills of a mess to do anything else but be sick. One gets sick while at work and then gets sent home sick. The other cares for a little bit before also getting sick at work the next day.

Ooh boy, this is a saga. Over 3k words! Hope you enjoy it all the same. I’m thinking of maybe bringing Nell back sometime and pairing her with Morgan, so tell me if you’d be at all interested in seeing that.


@its-a-goddamn-heartbreak​ said: "It’s just gonna come straight back up" for your OCs

To say that Cici felt like hell was an understatement. When she’d woken up – at 4:30 in the morning – she’d dismissed her weak limbs and churning stomach as the usual symptoms of the kind of sleep she got when Alan wasn’t around. By the time she got to work, however, it was clear that it was more than just insomnia getting to her – she was sick. But she could handle it. She was no stranger to illness. It was just that this time, she’d have to handle it alone.

She kept up a stoic expression as she walked into work, but it became instantly clear that she wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Rough night?” her shift manager Reed asked, as she walked in barely on time.  

It had been, of course, and she was starting to regret the large cup of black coffee that had made up most of her breakfast. It was making her heart race much more than it was keeping her awake.

“I’m fine,” Cici replied instinctively.

Reed gave her a long look that said he didn’t believe her, but he let her be. A quick glance in a small display mirror told her just how bad she looked. Her skin was pale, but her cheeks were overly flushed, and the circles under her eyes were much darker than usual.

Cici tried to work as normally as she could, but it was essentially impossible. She was weak and queasy, and the store felt ice cold. She forced herself to engage in conversations with the more talkative customers, answering questions about their shoes as quickly as she could. Her stomach had only gotten more unsettled as time passed, and opening her mouth for too long felt like a risk. She hid in the back of the store for as long as possible when she could, pretending to look for new sizes and styles but really just pressing her forehead against the cool metal of a shelf.

She was relieved when a lull in customers finally arrived. It had been getting harder and harder to stay on her feet, and she could feel a lump pushing dangerously at the back of her throat. She sat down on a bench and stared at the floor, wrapping her arms around herself to warm up slightly. Two more hours. She wasn’t even sure if she could last two more minutes.

“Cici.” Her eyes had been drifting closed, but they snapped open again as Reed’s voice came from over her shoulder. “Hey, we just got that big Nike delivery in. Can you get on shelving those?”

Cici nodded quickly and started to get up, keeping her lips pressed together. As she moved, the discomfort in her abdomen suddenly became unbearable. Her stomach sloshed violently, sending a hot wave of liquid up her throat. She clamped her hand over her mouth and sprinted for the employees’ bathroom, ignoring Reed calling after her. A heave rocked her body as she ran, and she felt vomit leaving her mouth and seeping through her fingers. The toilet was too far away, but she managed to stagger to the bathroom trash can. She moved her hand away, letting the sick spill from her mouth and into the bin. She retched, clinging tightly to the trash can for balance as she brought up another large stream of vomit.

“Fuck,” she muttered, shivering as a chill passed through her. There was no chance of hiding that she was sick now. She’d just have to leave as quickly as possible and grit her teeth through the drive home.

She heaved again unexpectedly, gagging up more watery brown vomit. She shuddered, and the smell made her retch dryly, but after another minute it seemed as if she had finished. She went to the sink and splashed some water on her face, which seemed to be burning, even though the rest of her body was ice cold. She steeled herself as she walked shakily out of the bathroom.

“You’re sick,” Reed said instantly, as she reentered the main area of the store. “You shouldn’t have come in.”

“I’m sorry,” Cici replied quickly. She could feel her legs swaying slightly, and she willed herself to stay on her feet. “I’ll leave now, don’t worry about paying me, it won’t happen again.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Reed said, more gently. “But you’re in no state to get home on your own. You have a boyfriend, don’t you? Do you want to call him to pick you up?”

Reed’s words made her ache for Alan even more.

“He’s out of town,” she replied, trying not to let her voice betray how much she wished he were there with her.

Reed frowned. “Isn’t there anyone you can call?”

Cici nodded slowly. Well, yes. There was someone.


“Cici Williams, what the actual fuck were you thinking?”

Cici sighed and leaned against the car window, staring at the horizon to try and combat the renewed sloshing of her stomach.

“Thanks for picking me up,” she mumbled.

“I’m your best friend,” Morgan replied. “That’s my job.”

Cici had to smile a little. Morgan could be overprotective at times, but she was always there when she needed it.

“Your job, however, is not to fucking go to work when you look like you’re about to die,” Morgan continued. “And it’s your boyfriend’s job not to let you. Where the hell is Al, anyway? I’m gonna kick his ass.”

“He’s with his mother,” Cici replied quietly. Some young, stupid part of her wanted to cry, and she blinked hard to make sure she couldn’t. Alan would be back tomorrow evening. She should be able to handle it.

“Oh, right. I always forget he’s Mommy’s boy,” Morgan laughed. “Are you gonna call him at least?”

“Knowing him he’d catch an early flight back,” Cici said. “I’ll be fine, seriously.”

“Like hell you will,” Morgan scoffed. “I’m staying with you, no question about it. Now I assume you want to go back to yours, right? No annoying roommates there.”

“Yeah,” Cici agreed breathlessly. A cramp raced through her stomach and closed her eyes, bringing a hand up near her mouth just in case.

“You okay?” Morgan asked.

She nodded. “M’fine.”


Cici managed to make it home before getting sick again, but just barely. Morgan had just managed to pull into a parking spot when she threw her door open and leaned out of the car, gagging over the pavement.

“Fuck, Cici!” Morgan exclaimed, and Cici was vaguely aware of the sound of the engine turning off and another door opening. She heaved unproductively, only held up by her seatbelt. She was shaking too hard to actually stay upright.

“Okay, okay, hang on,” Morgan said hurriedly, rushing around to the passenger side of the car. “I’ve got you.”

She quickly unbuckled Cici’s seatbelt and lifted her to her feet, carefully avoiding the pool of vomit on the ground. Cici’s took a few shaky steps before her legs gave out, and Morgan’s arm around her waist was the only thing that kept her from tumbling to the ground.

“Shit,” Morgan muttered as Cici pitched forward, gagging up a stream of brownish vomit onto the ground. She guided the smaller girl to her knees and held her steady, rubbing circles on her back. Cici retched forcefully, bringing tears to her eyes but only producing a small mouthful of sick.

“Hey, relax,” Morgan said softly. “You’ve got a hell of a fever there.”

Cici gagged dryly and spat onto the ground. She tried again, heaving hard, but just bringing up a tiny amount of bile.

“Are you gonna be okay?” Morgan’s voice sounded slightly scared, and Cici tried to get ahold of herself. Her limbs weren’t really working, but she managed to at least hold her head upright.

“Be fine,” she managed. She heaved weakly, spitting out another small mouthful of bile.

“Uh-huh,” Morgan said sarcastically. She was looking at her with wide eyes. “Alright, come on. Let’s get you inside.”

Cici managed to stay on her feet long enough for Morgan to half carry her to the elevator of her apartment building, where she slumped against a wall until they reached the sixth floor. Morgan already had a key for semi-emergencies like this, so she unlocked the door and let the two of them in. The apartment was messy – a clear giveaway that either Alan was home or Cici wasn’t herself. Morgan managed to guide Cici all the way to the bedroom, by which point Cici’s face had drained of color and she was shivering.

“Thermometer?” Morgan asked.

“Bathroom. Left middle drawer,” Cici replied in a small voice. Somehow, her room wasn’t any warmer than the outside world. She curled up in a ball near the edge of the bed and pulled one of the blankets over her. It barely seemed to help.

Morgan returned a moment later with the thermometer in her hand.

“Jesus Christ,” she muttered, as she helped Cici sit up and stuck the thermometer between her lips. “You went to work like this. You actually went to work.”

Cici just shook her head, unable to respond. Having something in her mouth wasn’t helping her nausea. Her stomach felt empty, or at least close to empty, but it refused to settle. She squeezed her eyes shut and tried to pull the blanket closer as another chill ran through her.

The thermometer beeped and Morgan pulled it out, looking shocked.

“103.6,” she announced. “How are you even still alive, Cici?”

Cici didn’t answer, but a cramp twisted her abdomen and she gagged dryly. Morgan was at her side in a second, holding a plastic cup she must have taken from the bathroom under her skin.

“Shh, take it easy,” she murmured. Cici bent forward with a series of painful-looking retches, trembling but bringing up little more than saliva. Morgan brushed the hair that had come loose from her ponytail out of her face. Cici spat into the cup in front of her, gagging unproductively again. Morgan pulled the cup away.

“Okay, it’s okay, you’re done,” she told her. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“Don’t want to sleep,” Cici replied hoarsely. “You should go.”

“And leave you here? Yeah, no chance.”

“Don’t want you to catch it,” Cici explained.

Morgan laughed. “No offense, but you have the worst immune system of anyone I’ve never met. I’m pretty sure I’ll be fine.”


Twelve hours later, Morgan was starting to wonder if she was in over her head. She’d taken care of her best friend before, but it had rarely been this bad, and it was usually when Alan was gone for a few hours instead of a few days. She’d texted Alan herself when Cici’s phone had started buzzing with concerned messages, but she didn’t have the time or the energy to keep up a conversation with someone three states away.

It was the middle of the night now, but Cici’s fever had only gone up. Every few minutes she shook with violent chills, and she hadn’t been able to keep down any medicine for longer than a few minutes. Morgan couldn’t be sure how bad it actually was. Cici did have a way of getting very sick disturbingly frequently, but no matter how many times it happened it always scared her a little. Sickness was one thing she couldn’t really protect her from.

“Will you try some more water?” Morgan asked. “You have to be dehydrated by now.”

Cici shook her head emphatically.

“It’s just gonna come straight back up,” she groaned.

Morgan’s chest tightened.

“Come on, just try again,” she insisted. “It’s been almost a half hour.”

She picked up the glass of water on the nightstand and held it out to Cici, who reluctantly took it, her hands shaking so badly it nearly spilled. She took a few tentative sips before pushing it back into Morgan’s hand.

“S’cold,” Cici muttered, shivering. Morgan frowned, looking down at the double layer of blankets draped around the other girl.

“It’s not really,” Morgan replied. She felt Cici’s forehead with the back of her hand and found that it was still just as hot as before. Of course.

“Need—” Cici whispered. She was cut off with a dry retch. Morgan quickly grabbed the large bowl from the foot of the bed, wincing as Cici gagged up all of the water. She rubbed the other girl’s back as she fell into dry heaves.

“Shh, shhh,” she murmured. “Relax.” She moved the bowl away, but continued rubbing her best friend’s back. “Maybe you should go back to sleep.”

“Don’t want to sleep,” Cici insisted.

It had been like this for most of the day, and all night. Cici kept saying that she didn’t want to sleep, then drifting off anyway from sheer exhaustion before waking up to throw up almost nothing. Morgan hadn’t rested at all, and she could feel it starting to get to her. Her body felt heavy, and her stomach turned a little each time Cici threw up. She would probably have to skip work to take care of her, and there was something a little nice about the thought.

By early morning, though, Cici had taken a slight turn for the better. She was still vomiting, but less frequently, and her fever had gone down a bit. She was well enough, at least, to do what Cici normally did, which was insist that she was perfectly fine.

“You should go to work,” she told Morgan. “I’m fine here.”

“You’re not fine,” Morgan protested. “I shouldn’t leave you alone.”

“Worst is over,” Cici replied. “Seriously, go.”

Morgan bit her lip. She didn’t like missing work, and it was a little late now to get someone to fill her shift.

“You call me if you need anything,” she said firmly. “Anything at all. I’ll make sure to have my phone on me. Say the word and I’m right back here, okay?”

“Okay,” Cici agreed. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Well, just take it easy,” Morgan said. “Drink water if you can. I should be back at four.”


The drive to the pool felt longer than usual, and Morgan could feel the night without sleep taking its toll. She choked down a quick breakfast in the car, trying to push away the excess nausea that had come from watching someone throw up for hours on end. She was hoping she could avoid thinking about sickness at all while at work, but the second she glanced in the changing room mirror she realized just how bad she looked for being so exhausted.

“You look dead tired, darlin,” Nell told her the moment she walked up to say hello. Her fellow lifeguard was red-headed and curvy, with a sweet southern accent and sparkling brown eyes. Morgan had been trying to figure out if she wanted to take their relationship a step above workplace flirting for several weeks, but today she just wanted Nell to go away.

“Stayed up all night,” she replied shortly.

“With someone?” Nell asked, raising her eyebrows.

“No,” Morgan told her quickly. “I mean, yes, but…just my best friend. She’s really sick, so…”

“Aww,” Nell smiled. “Sweet of you.”

Morgan managed a tight smile. The discomfort in her stomach hadn’t gone away since she’d left Cici; if anything, it had gotten a little worse. She made her way to her lifeguard chair and looked down over the pool, watching for anyone in need of help. As usual, her job was relatively uneventful. She didn’t have much more to do than yell at little boys to stop running and occasionally watch a swim test to qualify someone for the deep end. She hadn’t gotten in the water yet today, but she felt freezing cold, even with her coat wrapped around her. She kept checking her phone, waiting for a call from Cici, a valid excuse to leave work early.

Within a few hours, Morgan could tell there was probably more going on than a lack of sleep. Her stomach was churning nonstop, occasionally sending little bubbles of air up her throat that made her quickly press her hand over her lips. She took slow sips from her water bottle, trying not to give anything away. She just had to sit in a chair for a few more hours. She could make it.

“Darlin, are you sure you’re alright?” Nell’s voice over her shoulder made Morgan jump.

“I’m fine,” Morgan said quickly. “Shouldn’t you be watching the deep end?”

“See anyone drownin?” Nell replied. “You don’t look so hot over there.”

“I’m fine,” Morgan insisted. She let out a soft burp before she could stop it and struggled to act natural, taking a large sip of water. But the water just seemed to push at the back of her throat, and Nell didn’t look convinced.

“You’re wearing your coat,” she pointed out. “It’s gotta be 70 degrees in here. Didn’t you say your friend you were with was sick last night?”

“Yeah, but—” She shuddered as another wet-sounding burp rocked her stomach.

“Come on,” Nell said firmly. “Let’s get you down from that chair at least.”

Morgan sighed and began to climb down, swallowing hard to try and keep her breakfast in place.

“Get back to work,” she muttered. “I’ll be fine, I’ll hit the bathroom or something.”

Her stomach was twisting now, and throwing up was clearly no longer a matter of if  but when.

“No way, darlin,” Nell replied softly. She placed a hand on Morgan’s back and started to guide her over to some plants that were growing by the fence around the pool. Morgan blushed, shaking her head quickly.

“Seriously, it’s—”

An unexpected heave caught her off-guard, and she clamped her hand over her mouth and ran toward the plants. Watery vomit filled her mouth and she was forced to let it spill into the soil, clutching onto the fence for balance.

“That’s it,” Nell said softly. “You’re doin just fine.”

Morgan gagged roughly, bringing up a large stream of vomit that appeared to contain most of her breakfast. The sight of the mostly-digested food made her retch again, and she let up a smaller wave, trembling as chills ran through her body. She spat onto the ground, feeling her legs sway under her feet. Nell draped one of Morgan’s arms around her shoulders and held her up.

“You’re real sick,” she stated. “Let’s get you outta here.”

“No shit,” Morgan whispered hoarsely. “I’ll be fine. Someone has to stay here.”

“I called a few of my friends from the early shift when I saw you lookin all pale over there,” Nell replied easily. “They’re on their way. Now. Where do you want me to drive you?”


Cici wasn’t expecting Morgan to come by again until four, so she was shocked when her door opened a little before two, revealing Morgan leaning on the arm of a much shorter red-headed girl she’d never seen. But one look at Morgan’s face told her all she needed to know.

“Fuck,” she muttered. “Not you too.”

Morgan just shook her head, shivering, as the girl helped her half collapse onto the couch.

Cici laughed weakly. “I told you so.”

starla-nell  asked:

"did you really just kiss him/her?"

Miss Celia Taylor put a delicate hand to her mouth and sunk onto her mother’s couch in the parlor as horror seeped deep within her bones. The tumult of the night’s affairs–the breathless dancing, the bitter champagne, the horrible row–caught up with her at once and left her shaking like a leaf, heart palpitating uncomfortably in her throat.

Lucile leaned forward on her own settee and try as Celia might to avoid her sister’s gaze, her clear eyes were stalwart.

“Please don’t–”

“Did you do it?” Breathless in her anticipation, color high and rosy in her cheeks, Lucile pressed so close to Celia that she looked about to fall from her seat. All night Lucile had trailed behind her, long silk gown whispering across the dance floor and the cobblestone as she followed Celia home. She nagged and hounded as any true Fereldan mabari would and with a degree of upset Celia had resigned herself to the fact that this moment would have to come. Eventually Lucile Taylor would have sought out her sister’s solitary company as she had so often growing up, however, this time, instead of frightened whispers about dreaded Orleisian suitors, it was now the hopeful (but in Celia’s opinion) fruitless notion that the newly installed Teyrn Loghain Mac Tir might make an honorable lady of her.

Celia now knew firsthand, as perhaps the entirety of Gwaren did judging by the shrillness of their impassioned shouting match, he would not. He would have to become a gentleman first before he could dream of making her a lady, she thought with no small amount of scorn.

Contrary to Celia’s curt argument against the fanciful ideas of her youthful sister, the dancing light in Lucile’s eyes never went out. “You did! Your blush confirms it! Your stutter reveals everything! Did you really kiss Teyrn Loghain?”

Stammering, Celia assured her meddling sister that no such thing had happened nor was ever likely to occur; she found the new Teyrn despicably frank, short-tempered and ill-suited to her companionship. Yet even as she swore it was so, she could not shake the memory of his glinting blue eyes, so cunning and sharp as they bore into hers. The heat of their argument still burned brightly behind them, but their intensity had shifted–ire and arrogance into passion and admiration. How could she forget his powerful war-worn fingers upon her arms or the sudden crush of their lips, the heat between them roiling and severe yet unambiguously correct in its feeling? Her sensibilities all but snuffed out, all recollection of the inappropriateness of their behavior tossed to the wayside as he kissed her furiously and she yielded against his lips, fists clutching his woolen coat as if he were her last anchor to the Maker’s earth. She had been weak, suspended in a moment that did not belong to her, that she never wanted to be compromised by again. Celia still could not grasp what had caused her to abandon reason in the flickering candlelight of the Teyrn’s tent, but she did know that it could never happen again.

With finality and a certainty that shocked Celia herself, she banished the poisonous thought from her sister’s mind and would not rest until she had wrested a promise that Lucile would never address it again. The lie settled heavy in her heart, indeed pained her almost physically as she watched the innocent girl leave the room with a crestfallen form, but what else could be done? Perhaps Celia had kissed the Teyrn, though it was so out of character for her, she wondered if the ordeal in its entirety had been dreamed. Why would she, a lowly carpenter’s daughter, ever shout at a Teyrn? Why would a Teyrn seize her lips for his own at all? They were worlds apart, his station so far above hers that to have the memory itself was inconceivable, yet still her lips tingled enticingly at the mere thought of his touch. No more of such foolish fancies, she chastised herself. Whether she had or had not kissed the Teyrn was irrelevant. Nothing was to come of it and another such erroneous blunder could never happen again.

youtube

because the prologue video is an ART in itself, I decided to make a story from the whole 화양연화 concept, But It’s kim Taehyung’s…

‘Don’t cry…over me’ Taehyung says as he smiles to his hyungs…

also a subscribe might help huhuh i just made my YT account and i will post more BTS vids like this soon~

studytherin  asked:

☀️ hi katy! mostly i listen to country, indie, and k-indie songs. and i'd like a relaxing playlist so that i can always listen to it when i'm taking a break from studying (ノ´ヮ`)ノ*: ・゚ and congrats again bb♡♡♡

waaah hi xiuting! and thank you so much :’DDDDD

i hope you like your playlist ;v;

—  time for a little break ; a playlist for xiuting

would you like a playlist?

An Hour

My piece for @cullen-fanfic-telephone-game that @carpe-cullen was awesome enough to organize.  We had to write a drabble under 1,000 words with the theme “hour”.  I hope you all enjoy the angst!

(Cullen x Lavellan)

“I leave in an hour.”

Nell said the words like they were an apology, and perhaps they were.

She had come to him last in her round of goodbyes, eyes shadowed and words tense with the emotions that he knew she wouldn’t speak of.

He had an hour.

An hour before she stepped back through the mirror, an hour before he might never see her again.

He didn’t want to waste any of it.

It had been hard to send her after Corypheus, even with soldiers at her back and her friends at her side, but even through his fear he’d had hope.  Hope in the Maker, hope in the mark, hope in her.

But now?

Cullen didn’t let himself look at her arm as her drew her closer, didn’t let himself see the sickly green glow that was slowly taking over; the pulse of it painful enough, he knew, to keep her expression strained and her attention not quite focused.  He also didn’t let himself see how pale she was, or how exhaustion carved itself into her skin, or the deep purple smudged around bloodshot eyes.  Instead he pulled her toward him, and buried his face into her neck.

He knew her, knew the smell of her, the feel of her in his arms, and the taste of her against his tongue; he remembered every smile, every gesture, every sound that was his alone, but he made himself try and memorize it all over again.

And then Nell’s fingers were flexing into his back, and her face was pushing itself further into his shoulder and he knew, just like he knew everything else about her, she was trying to do the same thing.

An hour wasn’t enough.

It wasn’t nearly enough when you had hoped, dreamed, counted on a lifetime.  It wasn’t enough when you knew that what waited after could likely feel like an eternity if they weren’t there with you.  It wasn’t enough when you would continue to age, change, live, while they stayed always the same in your mind, lost to dreams and hopes that died along with them.

It wasn’t enough, and it wasn’t fair.

Cullen’s arms tightened on their own, some vain attempt to pull her into him, make her a part of him, so that this wouldn’t have to end.  He wouldn’t have to let go of her, wouldn’t have to watch her pull away, and wouldn’t have to chance her going somewhere that they both knew he couldn’t follow.

Not now, not yet.

“I love you.”

Precious word, coming from her.  

“I love you so much.  I’m sorry.”

Cullen wasn’t sure what the apology was for.  Wasn’t sure if she meant to say she was sorry for leaving him, or if she was sorry for making him love her in the first place.  As if she could have stopped him.

But apologies weren’t needed, not for this, not for them, and so he made himself release her, his hands coming up to skim over her leather clad arms as he searched for words to make her understand.

“I’m not.  You are the best thing that could have ever happened to me.  I could live a thousand more lifetimes and I will never forget a single moment of this, of us, not a single heartbeat.”

And then she was pulling him back down, her lips cutting off his continued declarations of love, and if they both pretended that their hands did not slip over suddenly damp skin as they cupped each other’s faces it mattered little.

“If I can come back, I will,” Nell murmured, the words felt more than heard as their breath mixed between them.  She knew that he wouldn’t want false bravado, though she so often defaulted to it, and so simply gave what she could.

He had no doubt that she would try.

And then the hour was over.

Akane’s Dad be like : Ok thank you for accompanying my daughter going home and i know you’re high-ranked inspector of CID,
but please doncha dare TACH HER

Inspired by @villa-nelle ‘s ‘at a crossroads’ ^^

The Arrangement

Harry Styles Fanfiction 

Read previous chapters here! 

III

A few members of the band, including Harry, were going to be in Los Angeles for the week for work. They would be working in the studio writing and recording. My publicist, Teresa, told me I had to go to dinner with them at least once and then be seen with Harry around town a few more times before they left. This meant we would be going on coffee dates and lunch dates. I was fine with going to dinner with the other members, but knowing I had to put on a fake smile and deal with a fake relationship with Harry made an unpleasant feeling in my stomach and I couldn’t stop thinking about it. Thankfully Liz was still with me for a few days so I was going to drag her with me.

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- Intimate Passion Sungkyu - [The Star July 2014]

You finally(?) started working out?

I’m not really the type who likes to work out, but after the world tour, I felt an emptiness in me. I spent a lot of time drinking and meeting with friends, but I really wanted to get a hobby. When I worked out, I felt proud of myself. After promotions I couldn’t go to the gym so I don’t have any abs right now. Whatever you do, it’s best to be consistant. 

When you say consistant, do you mean like how Infinite consistantly sticks to the “obsessed” concept? 

Yes, this album has the most Infinite-like music. Of course there is the “obsessed” code, but of course the most romantic thing is putting your life on the line like Romeo. 

Then Sungkyu, can you put your life on the line for love?

I mean, you don’t have to think to that extreme but I think you can love without having to do all of that (laughter). But when I think about it, I think “ah, if it’s for this person, I think I can do anything [for them]”. Is this close to putting my life on the line?

I felt like you were the one who saved words when it came to relationships compared to the other members. Now that I think about it, you weren’t really doing that.

Yes, I don’t have to. I’m the kind who just speaks truthfully and the members were all telling their stories so I didn’t think that I should join in.

I’m sorry I didn’t know. 

I’m a man who wants love with a burning passion (laughter)

What different side do you want to show in the future? 

Well, I want to show and I also want to see. I always tell my fans to be happy but people think I say it because I have nothing else to say. But it’s not true. I think that everyone wants to find happiness but they don’t know how to do it. So I want to find it for them.

I don’t know either, what would it be?

There’s a person around me who has found a way to get happiness in their lives. Jongwan from NELL likes to drink. One time his health wasn;t good so he said that he won’t be able to drink for long and he would have to exercise to get better and drink again. It’s very ironic, but don’t you think it’s great that he found happiness?

Happiness you say….one member mentioned unification. 

One time when we got first place someone mentioned that they wished that “world peace came”. “I hope for unification” and we got mistaken for a political statement so we don’t say that anymore. Was that member Sungyeol? If it’s that friend then [I know] he thinks that way. 

You’re right. Is this the reason you’re the leader? 

I know my members well. And I’m always good at knowing the people around me.

[cr: purpleboyhowonee]

Snort

(Nell’s view, Cullen’s will come later, but they both turned out a lot longer than I anticipated and Cullen’s is even longer since he’s much more of a head talker then Nell is, but either way here’s this one and I hope you all like it!)

Her head was cold.

She made a face against it and turned to press her nose into the pillow, her breath in the small cove she created warming the very tip of her face.

After a moment she felt the covers that she had cocooned herself in being pulled down further.

“Nell.”

She grumbled at the voice and pressed herself further into the pillow.  “Go away.”

“It’s nearly noon.”

“I killed a darkspawn magister, I am allowed to sleep until noon.”

She could almost hear the chuckle that accompanied another tug.  “That was over two weeks ago.  Josephine has informed me that you have spent enough time holed up, and you have to come and meet with the nobles who have arrived whether you want to or not.”

She grumbled again.

“She also told me to tell you that you have to act friendly.”

She groaned at the words and flipped over, her hands grasping at the covers and giving them a halfhearted tug back up as she studied the blond man standing beside the bed.

“I’m always friendly.”

He stared at her a moment before laughing, and since the sound never failed to amuse her she couldn’t help grinning in response.

“Go ahead, pull the other one.”

“Well, I’m not mean.”

They smiled at each other another for a few seconds before she gave an exaggerated sigh and flopped herself from the bed.  “Fine.  Fine.”

She staggered past him and into the changing room, shooting her words back over her shoulder.  “But you have to come with me.”

She could hear him moving closer to the door before he replied.  “I have work I need to do with the troops that are about to head out.”

She frowned at him as she pulled the shirt of her under armor over her arms and began buttoning it.

“I wasn’t aware of any troop movement.”

“Because you’ve been holed up for the past two weeks.”

She scrunched her nose at him before moving forward to kiss his chin.  “Don’t act like you weren’t holed up here with me most of the time.”

He slid his arms around her waist and it suddenly hit her that he wasn’t dressed in his usual armor.  She blinked at him and stepped back a bit to look down at his chest and shoulders where there was a distinct lack of fur.

“What are you wearing?”

He dropped his hands from her hips and looked away while tugging at the hem of his blue tailored coat.

“Clothes, why?”

“You aren’t wearing your armor.”

“I don’t always wear armor.”

“Yes you do.”

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