When people post, “I want a wife/husband who will wake me up for Fajr” okay, it’s probably better you purchase an alarm clock and then speak to your Lord about that wish not the billions on social media.
holy shit guys, this blog is less than a month old and there’s already 1000 of you! waking up today with over a thousand followers was a little bit mindblowing to say the least. you’re all so wonderful and so welcoming and fabulous and i just want to kiss all of your faces. i’ve loved 5sos for such a long time but i was always nervous about starting a blog.. i’m so glad i finally did! below are some of the people that make my blogging a good time, i really love you all and even though i’m kinda shy and don’t really talk to many of you, just seeing you on my dash makes my day. y’all are boss as fuck. anyone in bold are extra special people to me, always helping me pimp out my edits and gifs, which i appreciate beyond words. LET ME LOVE U
(i don’t follow many people at the moment, so please come into my ask and rec any of your favourite 5sos blogs! i love following new people) and if you’re feeling fancy you can follow my personal, cause you’re guaranteed to get a follow back over there. thank you again, i’m in total shock!
But Sometimes a Girls Gotta Do What a Girls Gotta Do
I want to see this happen.
Bog works a few all nighters. He gets grumpy, angry, annoyed, frustrated, until Marianne is brought in by Griselda to stand by his side during the entire process. Suddenly his time with the council isn’t as bad when she’s there to run a hand down his spine, intertwine their fingers, calmly remind him of his temper every now and then while passing him sweet breads and dried meats telling him “sweetheart, you’ve got to eat, alright?”
And he feels just so taken care of and so loved and he knows that everything is going to be alright.
And after it’s all over she drags him to bed. “You’re going to sleep,” she’d say, her fingers playing a melodic tune down the scales of his head, the buds of his wings, cradling his neck and jaw, placing a few chaste kisses against his cheek. “C’mon. Brush your teeth, staff against the wall, covers up. This isn’t an option.”
“But we could-” he’d yawn, breaking his sentence before wiping at dreary eyes, “talk. Ye hav-haven’ been here in a while an’ I’ve been so busy-”
“We’ll have all of tomorrow.” Marianne would climb over the covers, adjusting them to his shoulders. “Go to sleep.”
“I love you too.”
And he would fall asleep then, loved and cared for and ridiculously happy. Lost in a world of complete content. So far lost that he wouldn’t hear her whisper final, affectionate words against his temple.
“I love you so much, Bog,” she’d say, reaching into her overnight bag, “I love you more than the moon. More than this life. More than anything.” And then she’d pull out a bottle of ink. “But if you think that doesn’t mean I’m going to draw a mustache on your dorky face then you’re very wrong.”
Yay here’s another Lu’s Smut!!! :D I hope you like it. I wanted to post something else but I don’t think I’ll be able to stay awake much longer. Love you all, Admin A~
Is she gone? Will she ever come back? Did she fall out of love? Maybe she just found someone else. I miss her…
… I need her.
At night I wake up with the cold sheets and the emptiness of my heart. At night I think I see her silhouette next to me. But it’s just me looking at the mirror, wishing she was here. I became part of the night, I’m no longer the boy I used to be. There’s something missing in me. My heart is somewhere else.
I love her.
I fell in love with her at first sight and I knew she was going to be the first and last woman in my life. She became my reason of life. But she is away. She lives far away and we can barely see each other. It wasn’t that hard at the beginning until I started to wait for her more, yearning her smile, her touch, her presence.
Hi Puffy!!! :) Just want to start out by saying that I love you, your blog is one of the first ones I check as soon as I wake up in the morning. :) Secondly, kind of a random question, but I've been wondering about this for a while. When posing on red carpets, Cait used to pose with her hand on Sam's chest (a very wifely thing to do, in my book), but doesn't seem to do so anymore. Do you think that bit was for PR, or do you think someone told her not to do it anymore?
I think someone told Cait not to. There is a moment on the Paleyfest red carpet where she’s posing with Sam and she goes to give him her standard koala hug and then jerks her hand back and sticks it in her pocket. I have no idea why she was asked not to do it other than to assume it was another cockamamie PR decision.
It was time someone taught Sammy a lesson about how to treat girls right and about how to grow up.
I slowly got out of bed making sure not too wake Sleeping Beauty up and walked over to my opened closet. I searched for my scarlet scarf and pulled it out. I strode over to the bed once again. I carefully got on the bed and hovered over Sammy. I gently took both of his arms and raised them above his head. I quickly tied them together to the headboard using the scarf. Surprisingly enough, he hadn’t woken up.
I moved my legs over Sammy so I was straddling him. That woke him up.
His eyelids fluttered opened and he moved to rub the sleep out of his eyes. But he couldn’t. His hands were tied.
“Wha- What the hell Y/N? What’s going on?” He asked, his voice dark and rough.
I leaned in and captured his lips with mine. It took him no time to return the kiss. Soon enough his tongue was invading my mouth in the most delicious way. He moaned against my lips as he tried to tear free from the scarf. I gripped his face with both my hands and I pressed myself against him earning a sexy groan from him. I pulled back and removed my sweatpants. I returned to my position on top of Sam and began to grind against him.
“Ugh, fuck Y/N. What are you doing to me?” He moaned.
But I didn’t respond. I was too lost in the moment to think about much. As I kept rolling my hips, I could feel Sammy’s lenght growing through the fabric of his shorts. I kept going until Sammy became a squirming mess beneath me. I leaned over him with the palms of my hands laying flat on his chest. Sam raised his head up slightly so he could leave wet, sloppy kisses on the side of my neck. I could feel his teeth lightly grazing my skin. I let out a loud moan as he bit down hard. It was kinda painful but the pain was replaced with pleasure as his tongue sooothed the skin on my neck.
I reached my hand inside his shorts. Sammy jerked his hips back at the unexpected motion.
“Come on, Y/N. Don’t fucking play games with me.” He exclaimed.
“Shhh! The other guys are still asleep. If you want this, then you have to be quiet.”
He bit down on his lower lip to keep himself from saying another word.
“Good boy. Now, how bad do you want this Sammy?” I asked with a grin on my face.
“Ugh, so bad babygirl.” He whispered struggling with his restraints.
“I wanna hear you beg me Sam.”
“Please! Please Y/N. I want to be inside you. I wanna fuck you so hard and so deep that you’re sore for weeks baby.”
His words were making me wetter and wetter by the second.
I couldn’t hold my self back any longer. I yanked his shorts down and removed my panties. I wasted no time in aligning Sam to my entrance and sinking down on him. I gasped at the sensation. He was so big and I was so full. Once i was used to the feeling of him inside, I began to move. The friction from our bodies made my inisdes twist in absolute pleasure.
Sam began to move his hips to meet my actions as he continued to try and escape from the makeshift handcuffs. He let out a string of profanities as the two of us continued in sync.
As I reached my climax, I threw my head back and moaned Sam’s name outloud.
“Fuck! Sam!” I yelled. “Oh, yes!” I continued to ride him, and I watched as Sam furrowed his eyebrows in pleasure. A sure sign he was about to cum.
But I did what exactly what he didn’t want me to.
I jumped off of him.
His head snapped up in outrage.
“What- what the fuck?! Why’d you stop Y/N?” He panted.
“Because Sam, I’m not here for your pleasure. I’m not gonna be another one of your girls.” I said as I went into the bathroom.
I cleaned myself up and got dressed for the day. Once I was packed and ready for my classes, I made my way back into the bedroom where a very naked and very frustrated Sam was laying down.
“Y/N, you can’t just leave me like this!” He exclaimed.
“I wasn’t going to Sam. But now that you mention it, that sounds like a great idea.” I picked up my keys and walked out the door giving Sammy a wide grin. I had clsoed the door shut, but you could still hear Sammy’s commands to be set free.
I went about my regular day in college like usual. Right now I was in my European History class, when suddenly I heard my phone go off with multiple texts from Sammy. I guess someone finally set him free. I can only imagine at how awkward that must have been.
They all pretty much read the same thing really. It was just Sammy angrily texting me about how angry he was, but the very last text was the one that caught my eye.
“You’re gonna pay for this Y/N. And I’m gonna make sure I torture you in the exact same way, babygirl. Nobody blue-balls Sammy Wilkinson. I’ll see you tonight.”
‘Looking foward to it Mr. Wilkinson…Hope I wasn’t too rough on you. I know how fragile you can be. I’m just used to tougher guys I guess.’
I texted back, knowing the last part would really get to him. And to be honest, I was really REALLY looking foward to tonight now.
Last night, after 2 movies, a very heated game of candyland, a bath, and pillow fort building, Lottie had fallen asleep in my arms as I read her ‘Elmer’ in the fort. I stayed there with her in my arms for probably almost an hour, just breathing in her little kid smell and daydreaming about maybe one day actually being a mother myself….or I guess even a step-mother to this little munchkin…although that was when my thoughts started to run away from me and I decided to move her to her own room and go to bed myself.
“T-A-Y-L-O-R!” Lottie squealed, jumping on my bed and bouncing to wake me up at 7am. “The sun is awake so I am awake!”
“Well someone has seen Frozen too many times!” I say, laughing and tickling her all over. “what do you want for breakfast?”
“I want to go to ‘Bucks and get a muffin.” She said, nodding her head to clarify the importance of this point.
“Ok….well shall we get you dressed? We can’t leave the house in our pyjamas now can we!” I reply, chasing her out of the guest room and into her room again.
Lottie chose a purple corderoy dungaree dress with a black turtle neck and black boots, while I was wearing black skinny jeans and a deep red sweater with brown chelsea boots and a beanie.
“Do you want me to do your hair, bug?” I asked her. So far I had only seen her hair either in a hairband or in a ponytail, “I could braid it for you…”
“Really? Like Elsa?” She said, eyes wide.
“Sort of, yeah.” I replied
“YES PLEASE!” She squealed, running into her room to get her brush and elastics.
Soon we were on our way to Starbucks to get breakfast.
“What are we going to tell your daddy when he asks how you got better so quickly?” I asked her as we ate our muffins.
“It’s magic, obviously! I just needed you to look after me!” She replied, fluttering her eyelashes and giving me bambi eyes.
After we ate breakfast, we headed to the park to go on the swings as it was a sunny fall day.
“Lottie! Please don’t go so high!” I said as Lottie pumped her legs back and forth, going higher and higher.
“You’ve got a daredevil out there!” A mother nearby said, “Must be a handful for you to look after! especially at your young age!”
“She’s sweet, and pretty relaxed….just likes to push the boundaries a little.” I tell her, understanding the fact that she assumed I was Lottie’s mom, and not denying that fact. I already loved the little ball of energy as if I were.
Suddenly Lottie lept off her swing, landing perfectly on her feet and running over to me.
“Let’s go to the zoo!” Lottie said, bouncing up and down again.
“Not today, sweetie, we should probably be getting home soon. We’ll cook something special for dinner so we can eat with daddy when he gets home, ok?” I explain to her, taking her little hand in mine.
“Can we make cookies? I LOVE making cookies.” She asked.
“Sure thing little bug! You’re a girl after my own heart!” I replied, making our way down the road to the nearest supermarket to their apartment. “So what should we make for dinner?”
“Ummmm…..How abouts spinach and tomato pasta with loads of cheese and then lots of cookies and ice cream?” Lottie said pensively as I placed her in a cart and wandered into the store.
“Sounds like a plan!” I reply, laughing slightly and thinking about what ingredients we needed.
My flight landed at 4pm and I made my way right back to the apartment to see Lottie and Taylor. I had had a great time in Florida, but wanted to be home really badly.
“Taytay! I got flour in my hair!” I hear Lottie squeal from outside the door as I unlock it, followed my squeals of laughter from the kitchen.
I walked in on one of the most domestic scenes you could imagine. There was Taylor, stirring a pot of something delicious smelling on the stove, apron on over her clothes, and Lotie sitting at one of the bar stools stirring a bowl of what looked like (from the puff of flour that emerged when she patted it with her spoon) cookie dough, with an apron and her little chefs hat on.
“Well, well….what do we have here?” I say, leading to both of them starting to laugh again.
“Daddddddy!!” Lottie says, jumping down from her stool with help from Taylor and running over to me, immediately jumping into my arms and covering my black t-shirt and jeans with flour.
“Hey darling! You look like you’re feeling better!” I exclaim, tickling her tummy a little.
“It’s like magic daddy! Taytay made me betters!” She said, eyes wide and nodding her head to emphasise her point.
“Is that so!” I reply.
“Yup! And she did my hair like Elsa!” She continued turning her head to show me her braid, which I had never been able to do. “And we are making cookies and dinner!”
I looked over at Taylor, who was just watching the scene unfolding in front of her, smiling slightly as she leant on the counter in front of her.
“Well it sure smells delicious!” I say, winking by accident at Taylor, making both she and I blush.
We sat down to dinner, which I found out was Lottie’s choice, pretty quickly and were soon eating cookies on the sofa while watching an episode of Rugrats. Lottie was leaning on Taylor, with her legs on my lap.
“Why are they still in diapers when they can speak like that?” Lottie asked.
“Because they aren’t as advanced developmentally as you were Lots.” I said, absentmindedly, thinking back to potty training Lottie and how easy it had been somehow. She seemed to take that answer as she became quiet. as the episode ended I realised she had curled up in Taylor’s arms and fallen asleep.
“I’ll just go put her in her bed…” I said, leaning down to pick her up.
“Let me do it, she might wake up if you pick her up…” Taylor said, standing up with Lottie in her arms and wandering out of the living room. Luckily Lottie had put on her PJs before watching TV so it was easy to get her to bed.
“Ummm so….I guess I’ll be going….” Taylor said, standing in the doorway of the living room, seemingly unsure about whether she should come in or not.
“Wait….come sit down a second.” I replied. I’d been trying to get my next words straight for at least the past 24 hours.
“Umm…ok…” She replied, sitting on the edge of the other end of the sofa from me.
You and Calum have always had a great connection, you guys were always enjoying each others company. The way he wraps his arm around you in your sleep and waking up next to him. He would buy you little gifts, or just want to cuddle with you everyday. He made you feel special.
For the past couple of weeks, he has been acting weird. He would always go to the “studio” to work on songs, basically he would always have an excuse to leave. I told the boys why he was always out but they always reply with an “I dont know.” He doesnt even acknowledge you anymore, it was like you weren’t there. You didnt know what was happening with him, but you were going to find out.
You came downstairs to grab a drink, you looked over at him but it seemed like he didnt care. You sighed as you set your drink on the table.
“Cal?” you called out, he was on the couch playing Fifa
“What y/n.” He replied abruptly, he was never mean, let alone rude with me.What the hell was his problem. You went to go sit next to him. He continued to play his game, not looking at you once. Taking a deep breathe you spoke again, “Cal? What’s going on.”
“Nothing.” he blankly said. “You never want to hang out with me, and you always go out.” you tried not to raise my voice.
“Yea well maybe I want to hang with people.” That was the worse excuse you have heard yet. You felt my blood boiling, “You can hang out with them any fucking time you want.” you snapped.
“God y/n, shut up! You’re so fucking clingy.” He yelled, you stood up and threw your hands in the air. “Calum you have been “hanging” with them for weeks! And your telling me that you cant spent ONE day with your girlfriend” you stood up and headed to the kitchen.
Calum slammed his controller on the table and went up stairs. “Such a bitch.” He mumbled under his breathe. Hearing that made your heart break, you didnt know what you did to him to make him hate you. You pinched the bridge of your nose and sighed.
You saw that he left his phone on the couch, you quickly went over and grabbed it. Typing in his code, you went to his messages and saw that he was talking to a girl named Melissa.
Melissa: I need you so much baby ;)
Calum: I need that tight pussy of yours ;) omw
Tears went down your cheek as you read the rest of the messages, Calum, the guy you loved for three years never gave a shit about you. You put his phone back where it was. The rest of the night, you cried in the guest bedroom. You dont know what you did to deserve this, everything you and Calum had was a lie.
The next morning, you woke up to an empty house. You walked in the bedroom and packed all your belongs into a bag and in a cab. The imagine of him and Melissa mad you sick, why would he had to keep it a secret, if he wanted to break up with you, then he should have. You called your friend that lived at your hometown,in another state, saying that you needed a place to stay for a while, then you blocked Calum’s number. You wrote a letter to him after packing.
I saw the messages between you and that girl, and I’m not mad, just disappointed because I fell into your spell. I loved you and you decided to scatter my heart like glass. I should have known this relationship was a lie. You should have broken up with me when you two had a thing. But I guess I will be doing that for you. Goodbye Cal.
You set the note on the kitchen counter and walked to the front door. You took a last good look at the place before you walked to the taxi. All the memories you had together, was a dream. Sooner or later you wake up into reality.
Mafumafu: “Being unable to simply watch the living habits of me who has finally given up on even his sleep management, today Soraru-san and Urata-san gave me a morning call. My meals are done by food delivery, housekeeping by my friends, pest control by luz-kun, and morning alarms by Soraru-san & Urata-san. It’s perfect.”
trying to wake your boyfriend brett up in the morning by tugging him gently cause you need to pee but you were trapped by his arm around your waist, and when you asked him to let you go he’d just growl and hug you even tighter. “babe i really need to pee” brett would just put his leg over you and just place his entire self on top of you cause he “wasn’t done cuddling you”
tl; dr- don’t be an asshole, I rarely post anymore.
1.I never want anything. It has been years since I’ve had an answer for birthdays, Christmas, etc. I mean, I have my “staples”- Coca-Cola, smoke, candy, and books- and a concert if it’s someone I’m obsessed with, but I never can think of anything I want if asked, and generally don’t relate when others talk about stuff they want. I see things I’d like for the house occasionally, but my people will tell you I’m frustrating when asked about something just for me. This morning, less than a couple of minutes after waking up, it hit me that I really want a bottle of my favorite perfume- Chanel no.5. I’ve only had two small bottles ever because that shit is so expensive! It’s extra weird because it’s Beau’s birthday I’ll be shopping for today, so I definitely shouldn’t be thinking of me and I won’t be buying it. Still, I’m excited I even thought about and wanted it! I know my therapist is going to be happy as this is clearly not depression thinking!
2. Speaking of depression, saying it’s been a nightmare feels too cliche. It’s been a snarling hell beast that has laid in bed next to me all day, shutting down sleep, appetite, or desire to speak. It knows all my fears, regrets, and painful memories and never fucking shuts up. I rebel slightly by keeping my doctor appointments, taking and picking up my boy from school, and cooking for my family. Oh, and the occasional bath. But even then, it rides along, whispering words like “failure” and “futility”. I’m still stunned it let the perfume thing get by it.
3. I have family in Texas that I haven’t seen in seven years. In that family I have an Uncle Jim that I dearly love. The happy childhood memories I do have often contain him. He is one of those special people that genuinely never has an unkind thing to say about anyone and never meets a stranger. I found out last night he’s not expected to make it through the weekend. He’s in his 70’s, so it was only a matter of time, but it’s the way he’s going that breaks my heart. Him and my Aunt Glenna have been married almost 50 years. Their marriage is how I always hoped my marriage would be (and grateful it is). They were best friends, always cutting up, respectful of the others individuality, partners in hard times. He’s suffered a brain injury and doesn’t know who she is. The night before last, he beat her and now she can’t get near his hospital bed unless he’s restrained. He NEVER laid a hand on her in their marriage and good-natured as he was, still would have annihilated anyone who had. Their love and life together was like The Notebook, but with sarcasm and wit. For this to be how it ends is cruel and unfair.
4. My physical therapist called me last night and asked me for any info I have about the man that “bought” my daughter in the trafficking. She has a friend in the area in Texas where she was taken that is the actual Sheriff. Trafficking victims are his passion project and he professionally goes after the monsters that do it. I have the asshole’s name, address, and other names involved. I wasn’t going to pursue this because her life and recovery were what I was focused on most. Then after she was thriving, I fell apart. I put everything associated with her missing, court papers, and things she wrote during that time in the “bad box”. I taped it up maniacally, so it wouldn’t be opened accidentally. Beau offered to go through the bad box to get what they need so I don’t have to look at anything. And now I’m crying. Goddamn it. The point is, they’re gonna get him. Sissy will get justice. The girl he killed that Sissy had to walk by on the tracks every day is going to get justice. And he won’t ever be able to do this to another young girl. With what I know, I look forward to the day I hear he was brutally murdered in prison. As for what my very unrelated PHYSICAL therapist and this Sheriff I’ve never even met has taken on doing for my daughter and our family, I honestly have no words. I thanked her repeatedly, but mostly it was, and is, stunned silence.
5. Beau has stumbled into existentialism. He’s always been a simple thinker - not in a “simpleton” way, but in a “work hard, love your family, keep an honest conscience so you can sleep” kind of way. Anything beyond that was unnecessary complication. But age, family trauma, and living in a dishonest world has started forcing unwanted questions and deep anger about unfairness in his mind. I know how painful it was for me a decade ago when I first swam in these waters, so I want to try and help him navigate a little. It hurts me to see him struggle with things I know hurt, so sometimes I pretend I can actually help. I don’t have the heart to tell him his lifeguard is only holding him and treading water herself.
This is someone new I’ve been wanting to try out. I’ll be writing a Hunger Games AU Story, but like an RPG game or Otome game, the readers get to collectively choose what happens next. Slightly based off my previous post: EXO in the Hunger Games. Nothing is set in stone, every character’s destiny can be changed :) (if you choose correctly) you might even end up with one of the characters^^
Also keep in mind some things may be similar or different from the canon book
Today is the day of the reaping. You wake up to the familiar scent of engineered waste and industrial fumes. This is your home, District 8. You put on your best clothes, since there is no better occasion to wear it than at your own funeral. Because unfortunately for you, victor’s children are not exempt from reaping.
A figure stands at the doorway ready to escort you to the town square. She is stern and stoic, most people call her “the Shark”, but you just call her your mother. You don’t know who your father is and she would never tell you. People still wonder how she managed to conceive you; you just wonder why she even decided to bring a child into this dismal world.
In a rare show of affection she signs “I love you” in sign language and takes your hand in between her fingers to give them a kiss. You feel something in the back of your throat rise up; the beginning of a wail. Suddenly, you want to be young again, blissfully unaware of the future, and only concerned with the present. You know that if you decide to scream it would be ok, your mother is deaf, after all. She has never heard your voice. Instead, you swallow it down and follow your mother out of the doorway.
You walk a few steps behind her and admire her stature. She is tall, and broad shouldered; Her hair is cropped to the nape of her neck. She is wearing the blouse that you made her months before. She had never bothered to wear it until now. It looks beautiful on her.
When you reach the town square the industrial stench from the textile factories becomes stronger and stronger until it stings at your eyes. Victor’s village in District 8 was far away enough that you weren’t effected by it. The only reason you would go into the center of town was for school, other than that everything was provided for.
It feels as if everyone’s eyes are on you as you approach the crowd. Whispers hiss and rise, slithering under your skin. It’s at this moment that you wish you were deaf like your mother.
Today is technically your last day of eligibility for the games. After this year, your name will no longer be submitted into the pool of tribute candidates. Unless of course, you volunteered on behalf of someone else. Seeing as your mother is your only family, you wouldn’t have any reason to. People must be talking about whether your mother has bribed the Capitol in exchange for your immunity.
The sound of the microphone feedback vaults you out of your thoughts and brings your attention to the platform ahead of you. A rather unusual looking man with blonde hair approaches the microphone. He’s definitely from the Capitol. You can tell by the extraneous fashion made of flashy fabric. You hate the way it looks, but you can’t help but be jealous of the materials that the Capitol possesses. Capitol residents have the freedom to wear whatever they want, in District 8, there isn’t any room to be innovative in fashion choices.
“Ahhhhhhh Mic Test 1, 2″ he repeats himself but at a higher pitch “Uhhhhhh Mic Test 1,2″
You were not prepared for that to come out of his mouth.
“Hello everyone, I’m Lay, your district representative from the Capitol. The time has come to select one brave man and woman to have the honor of representing District 8 in the annual Hunger Games!” Pleased with himself, he leans back away from the mic and pauses as if to wait for applause.
Just get on with it, you think to yourself. You loathe his Capitol accent. It’s slow and leisurely, as if children weren’t going to be sent off to their deaths tomorrow.
He clears his throat and approaches the fishbowl on the podium next to him. You can sense the boys on the other side of you stiffen in anticipation as he reaches inside and pulls out a slip of paper.
“Kim Junmyeon” He enunciates.
The crowd begins to part as a boy, not that much older than you steps forward. Your stomach flips because you recognize that name. Junmyeon is your teacher, which is hard to believe because he’s only a few years older than you.
Even you, as hard to surprise as you are, were startled when you first walked into the classroom. Due to unfortunate circumstances, the school is wholly understaffed and he graciously stepped up to fill the position.
There is a child sobbing and tugging at his pants as he walks, but he kneels down to whisper something into the child’s ear before smiling and ruffling the kids hair. Whatever it is he said seems to calm the child down, but it doesn’t seem to stop the tears from falling. He calmly stands up and approaches the stage. He looks unaffected but the fists balled up at his sides suggest otherwise.
You are so concentrated on Junmyeon that you don’t even hear your own name being called. You can feel your mother’s hand tightening her grip on your wrist. The crowd moves away from you as if you were infected. Your mother’s clutch and the crowds stares can only mean one thing. You are the next tribute.
“Don’t be shy, come on up” Lay is looking right at you with a smile, as if you’ve just won a prize.
In the corner of your eye, you can see two women pointing you out in the crowd to a pair of peacekeepers. They march forward and pry you out of your mother’s grasp with little effort.
“M-mom!” You gasp out to yell, but the peacekeepers are already dragging you away to the front of the crowd, away from her reach. When you look behind you, you realize you have never seen your mom so vulnerable before. You face forward because you don’t want to see her cry.
When you walk on stage, Junmyeon is already there, standing alert and at attention, as if ready to make a speech. He is looking towards the crowd, but at no one in particular, which makes you wonder if he even had a family to be strong for.
Lay places a hand on both of your shoulders and makes you face each other.
“You may kiss the bride” He smiles, the indents in his cheeks deepening. You glare at him, causing him to bow a little apology. “I was just trying to lighten the mood” He sulks. He takes a hand off your shoulders and returns to the microphone.
“Ladies and Gentlemen of District 8, how about a round of applause for your representatives!” He begins clapping wildly but stops quickly when no one seems to be catching on.
“How about a hug for the crowd?” Lay looks at the two of you expectantly, perhaps as a last ditch effort to get a response from the audience.
What do you do?
1). Give Suho a hug
2). Glare at Lay
Reblog the story or send in an ask to vote for a choice! Voting ends tomorrow night! 9/4