lazy creep


Title: Aftermath
Characters: Hanji Zoe x Levi
Genre: Humor / Angst
Rating: T

@levihanweek​ Day 2: Nightmare

Levi’s Nightmare: Having a heart-to-heart with Pastor Nick.

“Are you worried about your wife?”

The question shocked him out of his musings.

Levi looked up, “My what?”

But the pastor was already speaking, “You’re obviously beside yourself with stress – and it’s understandable. Not knowing if your wife has survived-”

Levi cut him off, “My what?”

The pastor hesitated, apparently realizing he’d made some mistake, but misunderstanding precisely what it was. “Your…wife? The woman we traveled with before? She’s ah – forceful. You two uh – have the same, er – strident personality. When we first met, she dangled me off the wall.”

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anonymous asked:

Hey, Pilot! I was wondering if you could give me some writing advice. I have a lot of trouble starting off stories. Like, the first paragraph to start an entire fic. :/

My mom has always said that a moving boat is easier to push. Getting it going from a dead stop is nearly impossible and super discouraging, but building up any kind of momentum at all is easier to capitalize on. So when you receive advice that says “Just start” im sure it sounds dumb, but write ANYTHING. Experiment with traditional starting styles you see in books all the time if you dont have the inspiration at the second to make your own. 

There is the hard start- an example being 

“The alley way was still, holding only distant echoes of the city it inhabited. There was a space of a moment on one, lazy, stifling, creeping summer night where nothing happened at all. And then all at once, the silence did not shatter.

It exploded.

A man flung into the alleyway, slamming hard against the dingy wall and crashing to the floor, his momentum carrying him back into an unsteady run as his vision swirled and blotted-”

and so on. Its the BOOM BAM kind of beginning, right into the shit! Right into the fire! Holy crap! Where is this?! Who is this!? What did he do?? Where is he going?? ((notice how i used formatting to add to the big PUNCH, a beloved tactic of mine))

There is the ‘establishing shot’ beginning. Like how in movies you see the picture of the outside of the house before you see the inside of a room and then finally you see the character in a chair or whatever. It establishes the place, the space, and the person. This is also a way to start. Describe the house and the hill and the weather and the time. Then the living room, the decorations, the disheveled stack of papers on the coffee table. Then the woman, sitting with her legs crossed. Now tell us how she fits into the room, give her context in this space ((Always remember to connect a character to the environment and clue the reader in on the context you already know))

There is the ‘Just tuning in’ beginning. Where the story begins already part way through an event or a conversation. It is typical to heavily rely on body language and staging to help the reader figure out everything that they ‘missed’ and adds intrigue and speculation to your story right off the bat.

There is also the ‘Just missed it’ beginning, where it starts right AFTER a whole bunch of stuff went down and the story moves through the aftermath, which in turn gives context to the situation just passed. This is common is war stories, where it begins in the shambles of a home after an air raid and what the family must now do to survive. 

Thing to Remember!

The reader doesnt know everything, you do. Filling in the difference is where a whole lot of intrigue can come from, and setting that up with a good start is always possible! 


Remember, every movie and tv show is just a story told with pictures instead of words. Pay attention to how movies and episodes of shows begin when you watch them next! I am sure you will see the same things i detailed here as well as a few other things! The Establishing shot, the Hard Start, the Just Missed It, you will see all of these and more in films, so watch a few for inspiration. Pay attention to if they start with some information and events already passed ((Spirited Away: starts in a car filled with moving boxes. Before they even speak you know this family is somewhere new they have no experience with because they are moving in from elsewhere)). Very Very few stories start from the ‘true’ beginning, so decide whats already happened in your timeline and go from there if anything at all

When i met the writers of Miraculous Ladybug I got some very good advice from a crazy awesome woman.

“You have to lay some shit down in order for flowers to grow.”

Write the worst version of your story first, and then go back and fix it! Just get the boat moving and PUSH! You can do it!

Date night - Feysand (Modern Time AU)

Inspired by this post by likehemmins but the acc is unavailable. *fuck this*

Date night - Feysand fluff (Modern time AU)

After all the time of not talking Feyre had hoped Tamlin would show up. He promised. Then again he had promised to come to her house a couple of times a week. He hadn’t done that either. He had broken so many promises over the last few weeks and made so many new ones. He wasn’t willing to let her go out even if it was with him and he wasn’t there.

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Darkness is your friend now ( part Seven )

I am incredibly sorry for delay in this chapter of Darkness is your friend now. 

I’ll be real with you guys, I just lost interest with this up until this point of my life which is 5/17/16 at 5:19 am and I got the biggest inspiration to continue this.

 I hope you guys find this story still enjoyable. Enjoy!! 

Song(s) I am listening to while writing this: Henrietta, Creeping Up The Backstairs by The Fratellis and Limelight By Boy in a band Feat. Cryaotic

(Y/N)= Your Name

(E/C)= Eye Color

(H/C)= Hair Color

(S/J)= Side Job ( Like an artist, voice actor, music composer ect. )

(J)= Job


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Just a little drawing of my two favorite spooky narrators!!! These guys entertain me and give me something to do when I’m bored/tired/sad… Really, I can’t get enough of them!

Such lovely people, too… One day maybe I’ll be a guest narrator (HAHAHAHA…) or they’ll read one of my stories! Who knows!

@creepsmcpasta & Lazy Masquerade , thank you!

anonymous asked:

hi nissi not to be annoying but sugamon actually gave me a purpose in life its beautiful but i can never find any fics on it. help a girl out love u

this is like.. the opposite of annoying lol it’s very welcome :-)
yeah, i’m the trend (yeah, we’re the culprits) by gunhee
grindin’ on that wood by fatal
like a scene from a movie (every broken heart knows) by meowgi
come give it to me by ohh
you need him (i could be him) | (before i let you walk) you gotta show me how you crawl by hugeboymino
i’m all i’ve got (and i’d give it all to you) | c'mon, c'mon (show me what you’re all about) | i’m the king (and i’m down on my knees) | salt skin, lazy smiles by namgi
creeping in the streetlight by rubato
- when the lights go out (run away with me) | i want you to stay | come closer, tell a secret boy by jemkay
- rocket by boozinos
- three’s company by resonae; yoongi/jin/namjoon
- pretty boy by chyeloh
- objects in mirror are closer than they appear | a perfectly wonderful evening by bazooka


Happy Oct. 3rd! :D

What if Hohenheim came home just before the boys tried the human transmutation?

The Art of Actually Seducing Your Professor

Professor Dean Masterlist

Word count: 2110

Summary: The reader decides to ignore her phone and indulge in spending a little alone time with Dean.

Warnings: Dry humping, smut, use of ‘sir’ in a sexual context, lots of sexual tension and some cuteness!

A/N: It’s here! I’m thinking of making Professor Dean days on Tuesdays and Fridays? So there’ll be new installments on Tuesdays and Fridays, what do you guys think? Do you want me to continue? Also, I have a personal writing blog so if you’re interested in seeing more of my writing then please follow me here!

@abaddonwithyall @but-deans-back-tho @ouijawinchester @yoursupernaturalsammygirl @myfand0msandm0re @thinkwritexpress 

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mafia-au, 500w; levi gives eren a quick lesson on guns

He can feel the warmth wave of breaths grazing his arm. Steady and in calm cadence that demonstrated Eren’s tight grasp of the current situation, much like a professional he’s training to be. They are alone, with no one to interrupt and no outside noises to distract. Sharp concentration is required and Eren is being the perfect student. Listening, tuning in, and following every one of Levi’s instructions.

“Steady, take your time.” Levi tips Eren’s hands just slightly, the muzzle moving towards its target. He ignores the tingles his fingers receive when they rest on top of Eren’s. He’s giving the kid gun lessons and this is no place or time for frivolous sentimentalities to appear. The valid reason for their close proximity is proper guidance—how can Levi teach his pupil when his own body is shy from contact?

That’s how he tries to convince himself for the matter.

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2 more weeks. (Jin drabble)

Summary: Jin, lawyer a/u, he’s been occupied with a big case and it’s upsetting you.

Word count: 1,255

Type: Fluff mostly, slight angst?

(b/t = your body type)

(s/t = your skin tone)

Originally posted by hob-e

Your phone was too lifeless for your liking.

It was a Tuesday night and Jin was stuck in his office, working, and apparently, actively missing your calls, messages, and voicemails.

You knew he was busy, ever since he took on a recent high profile case, late nights at the office became the norm, and an exhausted Jin who wanted nothing more than to crash into bed and sleep became an everyday occurrence.

You understood Jin was working hard, that your boyfriend of 2 years was doing this to provide for you, and himself.

But you felt so left out, and you missed him so much it felt unreal.

You missed his touch, his kisses, his soft bedroom voice as he whispered little sweet things into your ears as his hands wandered all over your body.

You missed your Jin.

Sighing, you stood up from the leather couch and turned off the television and stared at yourself in the reflection of the flat screen in front of you. You looked pathetic, clad in nothing but your underwear and one of Jin’s old shirts, you felt like you were living in a memory of when Jin used to still have time.

With a heavy heart and frustration coursing through your veins, you crept back to the bedroom where you and Jin used to cuddle, and collapsed onto it, hands clutching at the soft fabric beneath your bare thighs, as your hands fluttered down to the fluffy blankets, warming yourself up as you slipped into a lonely sleep without Jin next to you.


After 6 extra hours of work, Jin was finally calling it a night. He shuffled the last few papers as he clicked shut his briefcase, and sat down in his swivel chair one last time.

He ran his hands down the sides of his face as his eyes threatened to close on him, but he let his hands keep going until they found his phone, safely tucked away in his back pocket, the cold object blinking back to life as he turned it on with his middle finger.

1 text message, and 1 missed call hung over Jin’s conscious as he knew exactly who had been trying to contact him.
He swallowed deeply, thumbing away until he got to your message.

“I hope you’re doing okay, dinner is in the microwave if you decide you have enough energy to eat when you get home. Just wake me and tell me you made it home safe, please.
I love you.”

Jin wanted to smash his own head into his ebony desk as he read the time on his phone, it was already 1, and odds were you were probably already asleep. Sighing, he locked his phone, and gathered up his things, anxious to get home to you as quickly as he could, he grabbed the last of his things and made his way out his office, letting the door lightly click and lock as he made a beeline for the elevator.
His mind was still laced with thoughts of his work, as he exited it and waltzed towards his car.
But, For now though, he thought, as he seatbelted himself and stuck his keys in the ignition, he just wanted to get back home to you.


As he stomped towards the apartment he shared with you, Jin couldn’t help the feeling of guilt that had taken place inside of his stomach.
He felt terrible about always leaving you on your own for hours, for always coming home late, for sometimes forgetting to wake you up and come home to find you worried sick about him because you weren’t sure if you had even come home at all the night before.

Jin knew your mind was probably filled to the brim with worries, and he hated it more than anything.

His keys jingled silently in the door way as his hand gently grasped the knob and turned it open, revealing the home he dreaded leaving every morning.

Inhaling, his eyes closed in content as he smelled your perfume in the air, mixed with the scent of dinner and fabric softener, an odd mix but his most favorite thing to smell, far surpassing bleach.

He set his briefcase on the couch and undid his his tie too, setting that with the briefcase as well, something you gave him constant hell for, but he didn’t care.

As his feet slowly drug him to the open door that provided an entrance to your bedroom, Jin began to unbutton his dress shirt, a lazy feeling of sleep creeping up on him.

Upon entering the room, he saw your (b/t) frame, curled up in an almost ball like position, buried underneath 2 covers and a mountain of pillows. He laughed softly under his breath, as he stared down at you sleeping baby face, before making his way to his side of the bed, and slipping in as quietly as he could.

He hissed as he felt your cold hand hit his side, as the realization came to him that you had been cuddling his empty side of the bed. Softly, he moved your hand over, as he slid the blankets over his half nude frame, before turning his attention to your still body.

You had begun to stir in your sleep slightly, feeling an arm snake it’s way across your waist and a head burrow into the crook of your neck, one inhale, you knew it was Jin.

Half asleep, you cracked open one eye, to see his pale body pressed up against your own (s/t)  figure, amid the sea of covers, and laughed softly, bringing up a hand to stroke his soft hair, a low sigh escaping his lips in happiness.

“I love you, y/n.” He sounded garbled since his mouth was planting kisses across your neck, but you understood him.

“I love you too, Jin.”

“2 more weeks.” Was all he breathed against your skin, as his arms squeezed you tighter against him, his kisses becoming more passionate against your skin.

“I know, only 2 more weeks.” With a sigh, you closed your eyes as Jin’s butterfly kisses came to a stop, and his breathing evened out, indicating to you he was asleep. His arms were still wound around your entire body tightly, as you allowed the sleep to come and take you too,

2 more weeks and you’d have Jin all to yourself again.

/extended ending/

-two weeks later-

The birds chirped softly as your eyes opened to the brightness that was your room, sighing softly, you wiggled your toes and fingers and stretched a little bit. Tossing your head to the side, you were greeted with an empty bed again. You frowned. You knew Jin would be gone before you woke but you still got upset about it.

A little white note fluttered by on the bed, it had your name on it. In Jin’s writing. Furrowing your brows, you lunged at the retreating note, before pouncing on it, clawing the paper until it finally reached your hands.

Not wasting time, you opened it up, eyes furiously scanning the nicely printed writing inked into the paper.


It’s been 2 weeks too long since I treated you how I should, and I’m gonna make up for all the lost time.

Be ready by four pm.

With love, Jin. ”

You looked at the clock as a blush crept across your cheeks, it was only 9, but you figured you might as well start getting ready now

Just Can’t Get Enough

A/N: I wrote this little drabble for my Sam girl, @balthazars-muse because we were talking about naked snuggling with Sam. Because I mean… who wouldn’t want that. As a Dean girl, I would want that. I hope you enjoy my love ♥

- some smut, fluff

 @oriona75 @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid​ @kayteonline @manawhaat @dancingdin @aprofoundbondwithdean @king-crowley-tho

*gifs are not mine.

Your fingers ran through Sam’s long brown hair, enjoying the feeling of his soft tresses slip between them. His head was on your chest and his back was still glistening with sweat from the love you had just made. It was passionate and tender but, Sam couldn’t help himself and take control. Your legs were stiff and sore from his relentless pounding.

His breath tickled your naked stomach, sending goosebumps down your spine. His long index finger traced heart shapes around your belly button. Sam’s other arm was underneath you, gripping your waist in a protecting vice, urging your bodies to become closer. His long legs were wrapped in yours, the warmth radiation through your body from him making you feel safe and loved.

You scooted up and Sam looked up at you in surprise, his hazel eyes finding yours. And such eyes - such lovely pairs of amber glass, as if autumn’s touch had graced them. There was a tinge of sea foam blue around his irises and grasses’ green lined their rims. They seemed to shine in the light of your bedroom. A lazy smirk creeped across his lips as he took in your naked body, your still flushed chest and face. He planted a soft kiss on your lips, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“So beautiful…” he whispered. Sam had a habit of making your insides melt without even trying.

He laid down on his back, and it was your turn to lay on his chest. Sam’s chest and abs were perfectly toned, every muscle rippling beneath his skin. You laid your head in the crook of his arm, resting your cheek on his soft chest. You inhaled his scent, so musky and masculine it made your head spin.

You ran your hands down his stomach, feeling every muscle tighten underneath your fingers. You could see his little happy trail peeking out from underneath the blanket, slipping your hand underneath to run it over his member. He jumped in surprise.

“After what I just put you through, you still want more?” he said, chuckling. His voice sexy and raspy so close to your ear. You propped up on your elbow and kissed his soft lips, his dark lashes fluttered as he looked at you lustfully once more. You got on top of Sam, your naked bodies pressing against each other, sparks igniting on your skin as his large hands ran down your bare arms. You ran your own hands down his strong arms, tracing each delicious arm vein.

You reached down and took the head of his cock and guided his length inside, savoring the delicious feeling of him filling you completely. Sam gritted his teeth and growled as your walls tightened around him. He pulled you down for a rough kiss, his hands in your hair. You buried your face into his neck, taking the shell of his ear gently between your teeth.

“I can never get enough of you, Sam Winchester.”


Sullen lazy beast! creep close
until you lie upon my heart;
I want to fill my trembling hands
with your heavy mane,

to soothe my headache in the reek
of you that permeates your skirts
and relish, like decaying flowers,
ther redolence of my late love.

In drowsiness sweet as death itself
let my insistent kisses cloud
the gleaming copper of your skin.
I want to sleep - not live, but sleep!

For nothing silences my sobs
like the abyss that is your bed:
Oblivion occupies your mouth
and Lethe runs between your lips.

— Charles Baudelaire (1821 -1867)

SasuSaku Countdown Marathon Prompt - First

Date: October 10th, 2014
Pairing: SasuSaku
Prompt: First
Title: Groveling for Groceries
Summary: AU. The early bird gets the worm. Unless you’re Sasuke.
Written by: ebondeath
Disclaimer: Naruto, not mine since 1999.
Author’s Note: To everybody who has read, liked, or reblogged my fics, I love you with the intensity of one thousand youthful Rock Lees.
Linkage: Prompt Calendar | Version
Previous Prompts: The Beginning | Back Then | Chapter 695

It’s Sunday, the day Sasuke goes grocery shopping.

At 8:30 in the morning, it’s drizzling outside and Sasuke shakes the water out of his naturally spiked hair as he enters the local market. It’s quiet and not many people are doing their shopping this early in the morning.

He wanders the aisles absentmindedly, picking out his usual fanfare and throwing it into his basket. He bypasses the sweets entirely, opting for plain vegetables, rice, and various fish and meats. For the most part, Sasuke doesn’t particularly care what he eats (with the exception of his dislike of sweets). There is one special food though, one indulgence that he allows himself.


Sasuke is, by nature, a person of extreme self-discipline. Being a pre-law student and a member of Konoha University’s basketball team requires almost every ounce of his attention and dedication. And Sasuke has never been one to do things half-assed. So his diet and workout routine are strict, and his study regimen is intense and focused.

Having finished the rest of his shopping, Sasuke moves toward the fresh produce section at a quick pace. There is a reason he chooses to shop at this grocery market, and it’s because it has the freshest, roundest, reddest, most juicy tomatoes. The price is a little steep, but the quality is superb and Sasuke is not exactly hurting for cash.

Tomato season is almost over, so their stock is not as generous as it usually is. In fact, as Sasuke approaches the display, he sees that there is only one bag left. He smirks to himself in victory as he reaches for it.

Out of nowhere, another hand slaps his away.

“Hands off, bucko, I saw ‘em first.”

Sasuke is startled into looking up at the offending tomato-thief. To his astonishment, it’s a scrawny girl, maybe his age. And…oh god, is that…pink hair? Who has pink hair? Really? Pink hair and really, really green eyes. The kind of deep green-blue you only see in unsullied ocean waters. She’s wearing a purple KU hoodie, denim cutoffs, black and white striped leggings (again, really?), and beat up classic black Chuck Taylors.

He snaps himself out of his inspection and reaches for the tomatoes again.

“I don’t think so. These are clearly mine. I was here first before you.”

The pink chick does not seem to appreciate this answer and tugs on the bag. “I don’t think so. I saw them first, and I’ll get much more use out of them you could. You’ll probably just throw them at passing kids trespassing on your lawn.”

Sasuke splutters. The idea of wasting such delicious delicacies on the punishment of juvenile idiots is inconceivable. Is this girl crazy? He glances at her weird hair and outfit again. Scratch that, she is clearly crazy.

“You are ridiculously wrong. I intend to eat them.”

She raises a pink eyebrow. “Eat them? As in, raw and unaccompanied? Who does that, seriously? You’re weird, and these tomatoes are mine. Have a nice life.” Crazy girl yanks the bag of tomatoes out of his hand and starts walking away.


Now, Uchiha Mikoto raised a gentleman. And under normal circumstances, Sasuke would just let it go and let the lady have her way. But these are tomatoes. TOMATOES. Sasuke’s favorite food. Not just his favorite food, but his favorite thing ever in the history of everything. And under these circumstances, Sasuke has no intention of losing to some crazy-ass (but cute in a kind of weird, off-beat way) chick with pink hair. At worst, he’s willing to compromise.

“Wait a minute.” He follows her back to her cart. She turns around and raises that eyebrow again. He wets his lips nervously (nervous? Since when is Uchiha Sasuke ever nervous? And around some inconsequential girl?) and he can’t help but glance at hers as he does.

“Would you be willing to split the bag? Half and half?”

She ponders his question for a few seconds before laughing to herself.

“You really want these tomatoes, don'tcha? I’ll tell you what,” her eyes sparkle as she smirks at him, “I plan on cooking up all these tomatoes tonight. I’m making spaghetti sauce, home-made pizza, bruschetta, salsa, and some damn good BLTs.”

Sasuke stares at her. “You’re making all that for one night?” He looks down at her skinny frame. “You must have the metabolism of the gods.”

She rolls her eyes at him. “No, dorkface. That’s about a week’s worth of food for me, plus I have moocher friends. Here’s what I’m offering. You come over to my place tonight for a date, home-cooked dinner obviously, and you can have all the tomato foods you like. I’ll even leave you one of the tomatoes whole and give you a jar of my specialty tomato jam. What say you?”

She’s standing there staring at him with her arms folded and this smug expression on her face like she knows he’s going to say yes. She’s even crazier than he thought. And that has the opposite effect of what he’d thought it would have.

“…a date?”

She nods. “Mmhm.”

Sasuke considers her offer, eyes roaming her face. The corners of her full lips are turned up in amusement as if she knows what he’s thinking. Her eyes are full of mirth and mischief, no hint of insecurity whatsoever. She doesn’t even entertain the idea of him saying no.

“What’s your name?”


He shouldn’t be surprised, given her hair color, but he is. Sakura is the name of a delicate flower, and there is nothing delicate about this girl. She’s all bony angles and sharp words. Sasuke decides he likes her name, and likes her.

“Fine. Where do you live and what time should I be there?”

Sakura grins at him and whips out a pen and an old receipt from her purse.

“Just don’t bring any flowers. If you bring anything, bring a six pack.”


Sasuke is standing outside the door of one Haruno Sakura at 6:30 that night. He shakes his head and asks himself for the thousandth time since this morning what he’s doing. He’s agreed to a dinner date with some weird girl who tried to steal his tomatoes (and succeeded). Maybe he’s as crazy as she is.

She answers after the 2nd knock, and as soon as she opens the door Sasuke decides he’s going to marry this girl if her apartment smells like this all the time. The smell of cooking tomatoes wafts to his nose from the unseen kitchen. It saturates the whole apartment and surrounds Sasuke like a warm, comfortable blanket.

Sakura grins at him and beckons him inside. She takes the six pack of beer from him and leads him into the kitchen, and now Sasuke is definitely making plans to move in.

On the kitchen table sit two homemade pizzas. One is covered with meat and tomatoes, the other decorated in mushrooms, peppers, and olives. On the counter sits the bruschetta, grilled bread covered with tomatoes, olive oil, and salt and pepper. As she opens the fridge to deposit the beer, Sasuke sees the BLTs she must have made earlier. To his left, spaghetti sauce is simmering on the stove. The smell is heavenly.

Sasuke feels a tap on his shoulder and turns around to find Sakura handing him a glass of tomato juice. A lazy smirk creeps up on his face. “You don’t think this is going a little overboard?”

She snorts and waves her hand at him. “You’re the one who’s obsessed with tomatoes to the point where you’d stalk and harass a girl in the supermarket over it.” Sasuke glares at her. She shrugs.

“Anyway. I’ve got a movie in. I figure we can start with the pizzas and make our way from there. Grab yourself whatever you want and meet me in the living room. It’s down the hall on the right.”


An hour into the movie and many slices of pizza later, Sakura’s head is resting on his shoulder and his arm seems to have snuck itself around her waist at some point. When the hell did that happen? And yet, to Sasuke, it feels completely comfortable. Like they haven’t only known each other for twelve hours.

The movie she’s picked is a horror cult classic, one of his favorites. It’s like between the tomatoes and the movie, they’re already on the same wavelength. Either that or she’s been stalking him. That idea should probably alarm him more, but Sasuke can’t bring himself to care.

He looks down at the girl leaning against him and smirks. Feeling his gaze on her, she turns her face to return the look, her brow raised (again. That must be her trademark expression). Then she momentarily leans forward and away from him to steal his unfinished second glass of tomato juice. She drains the rest of the glass and then stares him down.

“We should make out,” she says, “and then you should probably just go ahead and agree to be my boyfriend right now, because this whole scenario right here is going to be a thing.”

Sasuke doesn’t bother to argue. He’s already kissing her, wrapping his arms around her, and pressing her into the couch. Her mouth tastes like tomato juice, and if that’s going to be a thing too, then he doesn’t think being her boyfriend will be so bad.

feeling like melting

sometime in the middle of sophomore year.

Bitty has lost track of the number of layers he’s wearing. Long underwear, T-shirt, button-down plaid, heavy sweatshirt, parka… he thinks that’s all, but there might be a few in there that he’s overlooked. Even though he’s got sweat at his collarbone where all that material comes together, he’s still shivering, and his fingers and toes still feel like ice.

What is the point of winter? Cold in the service of hockey is one thing, but this kind of bone-deep chill just seeps inside you and makes every moment a misery. Bitty is the first one to complain when the temperature at home spikes and everything’s a mosquito-filled shade of muggy, but at the very least you can jump in a pool and experience that one moment of blessed relief. Nothing stops the cold. Not layers, not huddling up as he is next to his bed, and certainly not the drunken revelry downstairs. As much as Shitty might pontificate about how alcohol increases blood flow and heart rate.

Bitty doesn’t really know why he’s not in the mood to freeze downstairs with everybody else. Normally he’d be right down there, if not in the middle of the chaos, at least off to the side watching through his fingers and trying to decide whether to laugh or cringe. But not today. Something about the cold has sapped even his desire to be social, and he’s not used to it, which makes him even more miserable. He’s just too cold and bummed out to move.

The toilet flushes down the hall, and the floorboards creak. Jack must have been in there. Bitty musters up the energy to look up, preparing to wave a frozen hand in greeting as Jack goes by on the way back to his room. Then Jack actually appears in front of him, and Bitty bursts out laughing.

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