recording desk

Fishman Boyfriend

I had way too much fun with this one. It’s extra long. I’ll probably return to this one and enhance the characters, maybe even make it a story. Thanks to the anons who requested it! 


   “I want you to take care of him,” your grandfather says as he folds your hands over the cold keys. “He needs someone. He’s so lonely as it is.” He tells you all this from his hospital bed after having chased your parents from the room. “I know you’ll care for him, he’s been wanting to meet you.”

   You take the keys and hold them close, tucking them away when your family comes back into the room. When you’re able to break away from the group you follow your grandfather’s instructions to the letter. You go to his house and follow the little background road behind it, leading through the woods and down a cliffside to an observatory on the banks of the ocean, part of it coming from the water and extending out into it.

   Your grandfather used to be a famous marine biologist and rumors had once bubbled about your family that he had been some sort of eco-terrorist fighting for the protection and preservation of the ocean. He had kept to himself in his old age, never quite retiring and still continuing his studies even as he laid in his hospital bed.

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2

14/11/2017 Today I’m starting my subject on criminal law, which interests me a lot! Because I am still a bit tired from yesterdays’ exam and all the studying of the days before I’m going to take it slow, listen to some music, do some readings and make some assignments. Have a great day!

the losers club + bedrooms

bill : bill has a double bed that his feet hang off the end of. he has a thin blanket that he sleeps under and a single, flat pillow. every time stan or the others come over they try to fluff his pillow for him, but he likes it flat as a pancake. bill has two desks in his room. one for school work and his junk, and the other for his art. it is covered in chipped paint and the floor around it is always layered with sheets of paper and drops of paint. someone could often find him slumped over the desk, asleep, pencil in hand. he has a globe and paper airplanes hanging from the ceiling in one corner of the room, and film posters and band posters clutter his walls. by his closet door, he has a board with pictures of him and all of his friends.

stan : stan has a very spacious bedroom. his futon-bed rests in the center of the room against the wall, taking up a good chunk of his floor space. thick cream colored quilts and blankets are folded across it and two pillows rest at the head of the futon. his dresser has a massive mirror over it, where he has photos of him and the other losers taped up. he looks over them every time he looks in the mirror and grins. he has a small desk opposite of his bed where he does his school work and often reads. the chair he sits in spins and rotates and sometimes he pulls it to an empty space in his room to spin in it. between his two windows, he has three frames pieces of art, all drawn, painted, and sketched by bill. his favorite is an acrylic painting of a boy sleeping, tangled in sheets. the only colors are shades of blue and a bit of yellow and blue. the other two are a sketch of intertwined hands and an ink drawing of the seven of the losers.

ben : ben has a very serene room. from the color of the walls to the color of his bedsheets, it all goes together so well, creating a calming affect for whoever is in it. his double bed sits in the center of the room against the wall, which always has a book or two tangled up in the muted sheets. he has a few plants in his window-sil that he waters every few days because they keep him cautious of if he’s being careless or not. he has a wooden desk in front of his window where he does his homework everyday and reads in his free time. ben doesn’t have a bookshelf, but he has piles of books around his room. one by his dresser, one on his desk, and one on each side of his bed which double as night stands. every time the losers come over, one of them is bound to get knocked over, usually resulting in a shitty joke from richie.

beverly : beverly too, has a very home like room. a person would walk in and feel a sense of comfort immediately. the small twin bed is mounded with blankets and sheets and pillows, looking more like a cacoon than a bed. she has a small bookshelf at the foot of her bed that she uses partially for books, partially for a make-shift shoe cubby, and partially for hiding her valued objects from others who might be going through her things. she has a small vanity across from her bed where she gets ready in the mornings, ruffling her hair and smearing on lip-smackers. sometimes she likes to keep flowers in the window and on her vanity. whenever the die, she picks new ones and replaces the old ones. bottles of nail polish and tubes of lip gloss litter the top of her vanity as well as a book or two. bev also likes to keep candles on nearly every surface. she loves lighting them up when she gets home from school and blowing them out before bed each night.

eddie : eddie has a double bed with a mess of quilts and blankets and pillows. partially because richie is always staying over at his place and he sleeps under a bunch of covers. his bed is in the corner of his room by his window and his dresser sits on the opposite side of the room. eddie lives in organized chaos and only he knows where everything really is. he keeps stacks of CD’s/records on his desk and his player right next to it. he also keeps his shoes scattered around the room and is always tripping on them. some of them are richie’s and eddie silently curses every time. eddie’s old inhalers litter the top of his dresser and he seems to lose track of which ones are full and which ones are empty, so he goes through the process of triggering each one off in his mouth at least twice a week.

mike : mike has a very open bedrom, despite it’s small size. He has a little twin bed with white sheets under his window and across the room, he has a wooden bookshelf, chocked full of books. he has “that chair” in his room by his dresser, the chair that every abandoned jacket, tee shirt, and pair of jeans calls home. pinned by his window, above his headboard, photographs taken on bev’s polariod of him and the other losers. he even has a crumpled up piece of paper that contains notes passed between him and richie hung up by the photos. by his bed, he has a jar sitting on his dresser. the jar is for his savings, where he piles up his chnage and counts it every saturday. whenever he has the losers over, he uses it as a “swear jar” of sorts because his mom doesn’t like to hear them (richie) using such foul language. mike likes his room. it’s home-y, just how he likes it.

richie : richie’s bedroom is a tornado of comic books, magazines, and bedsheets. ever since richie was young, he has always found himself falling asleep in corners or against the side of his bed, but never in his bed. because of this, he keps blankets spread across his room so they are easy to grab whenever he falls asleep on the floor. richie has a desk in his room, but the only purpose it serves is him throwing his textbooks on and doing his homework on top of, despite the sea of books and papers that cover it. richie keeps most of his shirts on hangers on his door handles, making it a hastle to open and close doors every single time. on his walls, he has lots of film posters and album posters with his favorite bands on them. his favorite is Nirvana, which is hung over his headboard. richie lives in chaos, and he loves it.

based on an ask!

Bunny Boy (Part 2)

Word Count: 3.4k

Genre: Smut, little bit of angst

Author’s Note: lol here’s the second part to this fic after fucking forever :’) Shameless noona kink

GIF CREDIT

Part 1

You keep pressing the elevator button uselessly, it’s not like that’s going to make it arrive any faster, but you were so impatient to reach your office that you couldn’t keep yourself from repeating the irrational action. After a few more seconds of pounding on the poor button so much that you were convinced you’d broken it, you finally become fed up with waiting and ended up taking the stairs to the fifth floor where your office resided. It probably wasn’t the smartest idea; the heels and tight skirt you were wearing made for a very uncomfortable ascent.

When you reach the top of the stairs, you take a moment to steady your breathing before marching to the door of your office and swinging it open. You delight in the shocked expression gracing Jungkook’s face before it rapidly changes into a  dazzling smile so genuine it almost brings tears to your eyes.

He jumps up from your chair to greet you,“Noona, you’re back!” He bows so deeply, he accidentally hits his head on the desk. He cries out, grabbing his forehead and stumbling back onto the leather chair behind him. You rush to him, shushing his whimpering and making sure he wasn’t hurt.

“Noonaaa, it hurts.” He whines, clearly exaggerating to get your sympathy so you flick his forehead in retaliation for making you worry so much over nothing. But that only makes him grab you by the waist and nuzzle into you, demanding you pet him until the pain goes away. This kid! Sometimes dealing with him felt like caring for your child.

That thought stops you in your tracks. Where did that come from? Jungkook isn’t your child. He’s a fully grown man. In fact, the difference in age between you two isn’t that great. What’re eleven years? While it may seem big to closed minded people, it’s a fact that this doesn’t make you actually old enough to be his mother! Well, technically…

You groan, trying to block out the train of thought that seemed to be chasing you all the time even since you started this thing with Jungkook a few months ago. Jungkook gives you an odd look and he looks like he’s about to question you, so to shut him and the voice in your mind up, you quickly straddle him and pull him into a mind numbing kiss. He doesn’t protest, letting himself get lost in the kiss. Even you forget about the doubts that plague you and concentrate on his thin but ever soft lips.

You feel something hard poking you from underneath and you grind against it, making Jungkook moan. You smile, pulling back, really, that boy is too easy. “Show me how much you’ve missed me, bunny.”

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HEY PEEPS!! I did a piece for Marvel Quickdraw, a web show where artists record and show their illustration process. Give this a view and a like, if you are so inclined 😉❤

SVT - Click a Door: Intro

Originally posted by minghaeo

Series: Click a Door 

Member/s: OT13 x Reader  

Status: In Progress 

Warning: Coarse Language // Violence (not a lot, but enough) 

A/N: Welcome to the next Click Series, these are longer than the last Click Series (aka not just Intro + Member + Ending). I’m on a four month vacation from school ;) Hope you like it :) 


Soft rays of sunlight filtered in through the closed blinds. Dust particles in the air danced around, inches from your face when you moved.

It captivated you and held you in a trance. If anyone were to walk in, they’d probably have believed that you had lost your mind, gotten into the evidence records, and smoked until you were high.

Normally, that would have irked you.

Normally, you wouldn’t be acting this way.

Normally, you have your boyfriend and his twelve teammates milling around.

This office, with its array of chaotic, glossy, wooden desks was meant for more than one person. It was meant for the thirteen of them and the one of you. With them around there had never been one dull moment. All your missions had been carried out together. If it was death mission, then you’d die together, as team.

Now that they had been sent on a mission different than yours, there was a deafening silence everywhere you went and it settled heavy in your heart.

You tapped your fingers, in a wave motion, against the wooden desk. The pitter patter that it created did little to fill the silence. You bit your lips in frustration, and soon there was blood coming from the cut you had just caused.

You groaned, there was no way you’d be able to eat or drink anything acidic. Goodbye lemonade.

The slender recording device on your desk mocked you. You had been avoiding it for a while, a long while at that, and it was time to suck it up and be the agent you were trained to be.

You pressed the record button, “Agent Z’s Mission Log. Entry No. 1 - Individual: I’ve returned from my first solo mission yesterday. The boys are not back yet, though I expect them to return any moment now. Enemy Agent, category Intelligence, has been captured. The agency will be conducting an interrogation in less than an hour.”

A knock interrupted your recording. You pressed stop and shoved the device into a drawer you could lock and no one could open.

“Come in.” You said, eyeing the silhouette behind the glass.

A short, wavy haired girl pushed the door open but made no indication of wanting to step inside.

“The room is ready, interrogation officers are waiting for you.”

You nodded and pushed yourself away from the desk. She took a step back the closer you got to her.

Maybe it was because you were sitting in a mausoleum of a room in pitch black darkness, with only the slim lines of light seeping through the cracks, that she knew not to step inside. Maybe that’s the reason she didn’t look you in the eyes either.

You stepped into the hallway and recoiled as the florescent lights burned your corneas. The door clicked shut behind you. No one would be able to open it unless it was you or one of the boys.

The heels of your shoes clicked against the marble floor. “You know you can walk besides me, right?” The girl squeaked and sped walked up to you.

“How’s home life, Mary?” You looked at her from the corner of your eyes and watched her squirm.

“I-It’s fine. It would be better if she could be an Agent too. Then she’d know what my real job is.”

“She thinks you’re cheating on her, doesn’t she?”

Mary nodded. Silence overcame both of you again, until you turned the corner. Here, the hallway transformed from ‘classic detective’ to 'futuristic bio lab.’ To say the least, it creeped everyone out. From its blinding white lights to its metal white walls with powdered blue line smack in the middle.

“I guess you got lucky, huh. Considering you know all your partners in your civilian life.” Her voice had gotten a dreamy tone to it. You could tell she wanted to be in your place. “And, your boyfriend’s also an agent and in your team too.”

A small smile creeped over your lips, “Extremely.”  

“Anything else you want to talk about?” You asked awkwardly. Small talk was all you could do at this point. The boys were much better at niceties; you could only hope you didn’t sound rude and tempered.

“Actually, I’ve been wanting to ask you…” she trailed off, a soft blush coming onto her cheeks, as you walked into the elevator. The doors closed shut, the button to the underground levels was pressed, and a few seconds later, you finally responded.

“What?” You said, cautiously, raising an eyebrow.

“That ring on your finger! Did he propose to you?” She blurted out, a grin broke out on her face, it almost made you wonder if she had been the one to get proposed to.

The elevator stopped, it dinged as the doors slid open.

You snickered and turned on your heels, so you could walk out backwards and be able to look at her. You hummed, “Mhmm. He did it while we were in our civilian lives, at home.”

You turned your back to her so she wouldn’t be able to see the mad blush on your cheeks as you finished and heard her squeal. The door closed then, and with a ding you could hear it open again and her footsteps rushing to catch up to you.

Mary coughed, trying to hold back another squeal. You stopped in front of a metal door with a bio recognizer on the handle. She ran to the door and signed in herself to let you in.

“They’re right inside, Agent Z.” You nodded, expressionless. “Oh, and congrats!” She squealed before slamming the door shut after you.


“Do you want to be the one to go inside and question him? Or should I send someone else in?” The head director, stared at you.

You peered through the one-way glass at the chubby man sitting at a metal table with a bored glance. “I’ll go. I captured him, I’ll interrogate him.”

“As you wish. We’ll be here listening in.” He motioned at Mary who had come in a while after you had, after getting some supplies.

You nodded and grabbed the key he was holding out to you. You inserted the key into the lock and stepped inside, the door closing on its own with a soft click.

You strolled up to the man, stopped, and circled him before sitting down yourself.

He snickered, “What are you, a dog? Can’t get comfortable on your own? Come here, hottie, I’ll help you.”

“Is that so?” The corner of your lip twitched before you smirked. “I hate to break your heart, but, I’ve already got someone else for that.”

He grinned, “I’m sure you do. Sadly, nobody knows everything about the one they have by their side.”

“Enough with the chit chat.” You smiled at him sweetly, “Shall we get started?”

You looked down at the manilla folder in front of you. A white light snapped on behind you and trained itself on his form. Your back to the light, you chuckled at his scrunched up face and shut eyes.

“What? Can’t handle a little light?”

“You, bitch! Tell them to turn that light off.” He snarled and swatted at your face.

You smiled down at the folder when his fingers were centimeters away from your face. All you could feel was the air he had moved with his hand. “I’m sorry, I can’t seem to read a bit of what’s on this page without the light. It’s my reading light you see, can’t do without it.”

He stayed silent then, knowing what game you were trying to play. He stiffened and faced straight ahead, eyes shut, his lips in a snarl.

“Let’s see, Antoni Delacux, age twenty-five, from— oh, I have a cousin from there, doubt you know her though. She’s one of the good one’s too.” You chuckled and trailed your fingers down the page, scratching the page with a nail.

“You’re a part of the intelligence division, are you not? Tell me, what exactly do you know?”

He snarled,  “Turn those damn lights off.”

“Sorry, we’ve been over this. But if you tell me what you know about that new technology your group has been working on— and anything else you might know, without a fight might I add— then I’m sure those lights will turn off soon.”

“Darlin’, you don’t want to know what I know.” He smirked, turning his face to the ground.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” The section below his seat turned on, just like the white light behind you. Antoni growled and tried to stand up, only to be pulled back by the chains on his legs and hands.

“The quicker the better for you, you know. These lights give more than massive migraines.”

“I’m warning you, darlin’—”

“Warning me?” You scoffed, “You don’t seem to understand who’s captured who here.”

“Don’t I? You’re Agent Z aren’t you? And that handsome man of yours, he’s proposed to you, correct?”

“I don’t seem to know what you’re talking ab—“

“Don’t flatter yourself. You aren’t as smart as you think you are. You forgot to take off your ring and that boy of yours does dream a lot about you, you know.”

You stared at the man horridly, before turning to look back at the glass, hoping to get some assistance, but flinched when the light hit you. It shot off right after. You covered your eyes, regaining the vision you had just lost.

A chuckle made you look back at the man across from you.

“Aren’t you a little young to be getting married? You can’t be more than twenty years old. Oh, wait! You and your boy were recruited at a young age, right? What’s his name again?”

“What are you talking about?” You whispered out.

“I’m just saying, aren’t you wondering why your team hasn’t gotten back to base yet?” He started chuckling.

You stood up abruptly and lunged at his neck. A hand pulled you back and out the door, the sound of the man’s laughter ringing even when you were forced back into your office.


It was darker now than it was when you were in your mausoleum of an office first. There no longer any light coming through the blinds, nor dust floating in front of your face.

You were stiff, unblinking, frozen in your chair. How was it that the room had become so cold, that you could see your breath every time you exhaled.  So cold, that you couldn’t bring yourself to look away from the wall. Or was that fear of landing on your lover’s desk.

A sudden knock jolted you out of your stupor, “Who is it?”

“It’s me Agent Z, I have mission for you.” You nodded emotionlessly, and hovered your finger over the button that unlocked the door from the inside.

“You have to tell me where the rest of my team is.”

“That’s exactly what I’ve come to talk to you about.”


You were angry— no. You were pissed beyond comprehension.  

The heels of your shoes clicked against the dark gray tile that was the floor of the enemy headquarters. In one hand, your gun with your finger on the trigger, the other hand, flying to the side of your ear piece.

“For enemy agents, they aren’t really aware of what goes on around them.”

“Keep your voice down, Agent Z. If I can hear the sound of your footsteps resounding in their hallways, so can they.” Mary squeaked on the line.

“To hell to with keeping quiet. They have something of mine and I want it back.”

“Agent Z, please!” You stopped in your tracks and growled under your breath. You were in no mood to be told what to do. You clenched your hand and punched the metal wall beside you, bringing it back to your chest in pain.

“Agent Z, please…” Mary whispered exasperated, “according to intelligence, there should be a door that resembles a meat locker after turning the corner. They should all be inside there but be careful—“

“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes, “I know. ‘Be careful of the way you go about this, one wrong move and—“

You let a out a puff of air as a sharp pain resonated from the base of your neck. Your hand flew to the base of your neck and patted the spot until you felt a small square.

You pulled it out and cringed. Poison block.


You woke up to a coughing fit and a weight on your chest. Your eyes snapped open, and you pushed the textbooks you fell asleep with on your chest.

Your eyes furrowed, something seemed…off? But it was still the same room as always. A table in the left corner, a laptop on it, a hoard of stationary at the left side of the corner, your textbooks on the shelf above it. The door was directly in front of your bed and the blinds on your window, open as usual. No, it wasn’t that. You shook your head.

Despite the warmth of your covers, your morning had already been ruined. So, you threw the covers off your body and sat up. You let out a sigh.

The floor wasn’t cold, in fact, the sun had already seemed to warmed the floor. Your eyes widened, no one had woken you. 


You let out a scream and rushed to your dresser, pulling out a soft pullover and jeans and putting them on. You hurried over to your vanity and grabbed the first body mist you could feel.

You slammed the door open and stubbled when you saw the door across from yours. You shook your head and took a step into the hallway.  

“Wait…which one was the bathroom, again?” You mumbled biting your bottom lip.

Your room, was at the end of the hall in the second hall, placing you literally in the middle of the left and right side. You groaned and ran towards the stairs, looking over the rail to the other hallway, trying to remember.

‘Oh, screw it!’ You thought to yourself and went with your gut feeling.

…………………………….

Pick a Door:

1st Floor:

Door #1
Door #2
Door #3
Door #4
Door #5
Door #6
Door #7

2nd Floor

Door #8
Door #9
Door #10
Door #11
Door #12
Door #13


Bring Your Kid to Work Day

Request: @amariemelody Lillian, dear! May I request fic: Tony falls for a single mom, middle-class reporter who’s interviewing him? She even has to bring her daughter w/her to the interview that day b/c all babysitting options were out that day, teehee!!!

You never thought in a million years that you’d be the one doing this story. Sure, it was your idea, and it was your story, you just never thought you’d be able to do it. Tony Stark was the best man to do a story of any kind on. If you wanted millions of people to read your article you put Tony Stark’s name on it. If you wanted national acclaim, you interviewed Tony Stark. Lots of people did those shallow interviews about his favorite color, what his ideal lady of the night looked like, or what brand of underwear he preferred. However, you wanted something deeper, more pertinent to the evolving world around you. You wanted to know more about Tony Stark’s vision for the world of tomorrow. In all of his interviews, you were sure he was always dying to say more about his latest advances in clean energy instead of the scoop on his most recent one night stand. When you wrote to him, summarizing  the intentions of your story you focused on that, on the hunger to learn about his ideal future. You expected your email to get lost in the sea of other emails that Tony Stark receives but within the week you had a response that was signed off by TonyStark- now you doubted Mr. Stark answered the email himself, but it was still a big deal- giving you a time and place to meet for your interview. He’d granted you two and a half hours of his time to pick his brain. All of this great luck and now on the day of the interview your babysitter had strep and couldn’t watch your daughter.

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                                                                     ( credit.)

Keep on living (chapter 1) Lin Manuel Miranda x Reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 

Summary: You work at the Richard Rogers theater as the assistant to the musical director as Hamilton hits Broadway, and it’s while working there you develop a friendship/crush on Lin who is your nerdy workaholic nerd in arms. Meanwhile you hide the other secret part of your life from Lin and your friends,  keeping secret your abusive partner until you can’t hide it anymore. Expect some angst. 

(I’m an abuse survivor myself. Not all abuse is the same, and so this fic is not meant to be a universal experience.  I wrote this originally as a fluff piece for myself but I realise it doesn’t come across as fluff!

To anyone that may be experiencing abuse then my inbox is always open and I will always believe you. Tell a friend or a relative if you are able to. And there are many support lines depending on your town/state/country, talking to someone helps. Stay safe.)

Warnings: I’m adding a trigger warning for some mentions of emotional and physical abuse.

Word count:  2715

——

You were late again to rehearsals, that’s when he first noticed that something was wrong.

You were known for your punctuality, often getting to the theatre hours ahead of everyone. You used your tiny office in the basement to write, to go over notes, and to listen to recordings from the sound desk from the previous night’s show. After years of working shitty jobs this was your first job as musical director’s assistant and you weren’t planning on wasting the opportunity. You’d been with Hamilton since they made its transition to Broadway, you lived and breathed this production, and the Richard Rogers was practically your home.

So when you showed up 2 hours late that afternoon hiding behind a pair of oversize dark glasses, you were greeted by Lin’s fake gasp of surprise.

“Aaaaand what time do you call this Y/N?” he called as she skipped over to you, a wide grin on his face while he playfully put his arm around your shoulder. “You bailed on Oak’s birthday drinks last night. I can’t believe you left me in a bar singing karaoke by myself after you promised me a Disney duet medley!.”

He pouted and gave you puppy eyes. Ordinarily you’d laugh along with him and tease him about his failed disney duets (last time the gang had gone out for karaoke he drunkenly sang A Whole New World with Chris but Lin had naturally taken over singing both Aladdin and Jasmine’s parts leaving Chris and everyone else in fits of laughter at the over-excited disney nerd now serenading himself  in front of them) but today you were caught off guard.

You pushed the glasses tight against your face.

“Um sorry, I had an emergency, h-had to leave a-and get back home. I uh should get downstairs, there’s um some charts I was supposed to amend for Alex this evening.”

You put your head down and pulled away from Lin’s arm, fumbling for the door to make a quick getaway. Lin, sensing something amiss instantly transitioned from Goofy Lin to Serious Lin in a heartbeat, and ran around placing himself in front of you.

“Hey, sorry Y/N, is everything ok? Are you ok?”

“Yeah I’m fine.”

“Has something happened?” He placed his hand on your shoulder, giving you a squeeze as he lowered his head trying to meet your gaze while you stared at the floor.

You pushed his hand away, too scared to look him in the eye, knowing that if you did you might unravel at any moment.

“I’m fine, sorry, just in a rush.”

You quickly scuffled away, aware of Lin’s eyes following you. You felt like a dick.

You knew how weird you sounded and how rude you were being. You’d looked forward to Oak’s birthday drinks along with everyone else, and ordinarily you’d love to spend the afternoon joking around with Lin. There was even a time when Lin skipping over to give you puppy eyes would have made your heart flutter. You’d developed the most embarrassing crush on him during your first few weeks on the job which left you shy and unable to speak, but you’d pushed those feeling aside, choosing to be as professional as possible. Nobody would have taken you seriously with a silly crush on Lin.

Pippa had once called it the ‘Lin Effect’:

“ Everyone falls in love with Lin” she’d said during those first few weeks of rehearsals.

“He makes everyone in the room feel important and who can’t help but fall in love with that, it’s the Lin Effect!”

Lin had overheard Pippa saying this and for days afterwards he joked with anyone on stage who forget their lines or missed their mark that their lack of concentration was down to the Lin Effect. When you’d accidentally hit play on the sampler during a heart-wrenching rehearsal of Quiet Uptown, accidentally filling the studio with deafening hip hop beats, the cast had erupted into giggles and Lin punched the air and yelled ‘Lin Effect!’ and winked at you. Once you’d seen this goofy side you became less nervous around him and more like good friends. The crippling shyness was gone and in it’s place was an incredibly nerdy friendship born out of long days and nights, rehearsing, and thinking/talking/breathing music with him. And sure, he could still make you feel special just with a look, or by getting excited when you let him hear your own compositions for a half finished music project you’d been kicking around. They way his eyes lit up and got excited, the way he’d smile at you with a mixture of pride and and warmth could make your day. Even as just good friends, the Lin Effect was real.

But you couldn’t think about anyone just now. You just needed to stop and breathe and get to your office before anyone else saw you.

You practically fell into the office you shared with Alex, surprised to find Chris sitting there on the beaten up couch with Pippa, both in fits of giggles as each of them shared an earbud plugged into Chris’s phone. You’d hoped to find an empty room to be alone.

“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t realise you guys were in here” you said with your hand quickly reaching behind you for the door handle ready to leave.

“Hey Y/N!’ Pippa called, ‘we were waiting for you, come and listen to this!’

You slowly edged your way over to the sofa on Pippa’s command. She scooted up and patted beside her gesturing for you to sit. ‘Here you gotta listen to this, it’s an old Freestyle Love Supreme recording, it’s the most ridiculous thing I ever heard, check it out!” She pulled the ear bud out of her ear and thrust it towards you. You took it from her practically in slow motion, looking at the ear bud like you’d never seen an ear bud before.

“Ooh check out the glasses, does someone have a hangover?” laughs Chris. “Man you must be feeling ROUGH today huh!”. You nod along meekly without saying a word, leaving an awkward silence in the air. Pippa looks at you with concern then gently nudges Chris who puts his hands up “Ok ok, I’ll leave you two alone, sounds like someone is in desperate need of some coffee!”

As Chris slipped away you felt Pippa’s eyes narrowing on you

“Y/N what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, sorry I’m just tired. Hungover.” You stammed.

Pippa’s eye’s lowered to meet yours, you were looking down in your lap, something was wrong. “Hungover? But you weren’t out with us last night though, we looked all over for you. Where were you?”

Hearing the concern in her voice was almost overwhelming and you could feel tears in your eyes. You slowed your breathing trying to steady yourself so you didn’t fall apart there and then.

“Y/N talk to me, what’s happened.”

You breathed, swallowed, and raised your head to meet hers. Slowly, you reached up and took off the oversize sunglasses that had shielded your face. As you took them off you still couldn’t bring yourself to make eye contact with her and you stared down at the sofa as you heard Pippa breathe in sharply.

Your face was bruised. Your left eye was swollen and bloodshot, your eyelid was purple, and there was a small cut on the top of your cheek, the skin was tinged yellow as the bruise faded out across your face.

“Oh my god Y/N are you ok? What happened? Oh my god who did this?”

You felt exposed.

You couldn’t tell anyone. He’d apologised, he hadn’t meant to. He wasn’t a monster. You didn’t want people to see that side of him. You weren’t making excuses for him, but he didn’t mean to hurt you, he just got upset and lost control, and it never meant to happen.

You’d been dating Mark for 3 months now. He was amazing, a talented musician, he was so smart, he was creative and enthusiastic and loved you. He really loved you. But he struggled too. His mental health wasn’t great and lately his dark moments had become dark days and dark weeks. He felt so scared of losing you and felt jealous that you were working in your dream job when he was still struggling. He hadn’t wanted you to go out last night, he was convinced you would cheat on him, that you’d drink too much and go home with someone else, scared that your ‘new dumbass theatre friends’ (as he called them) would convince you to leave him. You’d got annoyed, you’d snapped back at him, you hated someone so controlling, you just wanted one night out with your friends. And he’d hit you. He’d actually hit you. You couldn’t tell anyone.

“Y/N who did this?”

“Nobody. I mean.. someone tried to mug me, it’s fine, they didn’t take anything and I got away, it’s totally fine, I’m just tired.” You were bad at lying, your voice sounded strange and you were sure that she knew. You regretted saying it was a mugging instantly.

“Oh Fuck! Y/N that’s horrible, you poor poor thing. Did you call the police? I can come with you to the police station, what do you need?”

You made eye contact with Pippa for the first time since sitting down, her kindness felt so unbearable.

“It’s fine, honestly. I’ve already spoken to the police. I’m ok, I’m just tired.” You even cracked a smile to try and show just how ok you were pretending to be. You were the worst liar. She reached out and pulled you into a hug while she continued to say nice reassuring things. You couldn’t concentrate and you just closed your eyes hoping for some quiet calm soon.

Your eyes snapped wide as the door to your office swung open and Chris stood there.

“Hey I forgot my phone…” He trailed off as he saw your face and you quickly pulled your hair over your face feeling exposed.

“Y/N what happened?” He begun, but luckily, Pippa sensing your desire for the ground to swallow you up, instantly  jumped up pressing his phone into his hands and shooing him out of the office urging him to leave you alone for some quiet time and saying ‘yes she’s FINE’ over the top of his protests while shutting the door in his face.

“Oh god thank you.”

“That’s ok, although people are gonna be concerned. In fact I don’t want you going home alone tonight, I’ll take a cab with you. No ifs no buts.”

You wished you hadn’t blurted out a lie about being mugged. If anything that was just gonna bring more attention on yourself. And it wasn’t the same: people who got mugged were victims of something awful, you weren’t a victim, he said this was something you had done, that you’d made him this angry. Was this your fault? You slipped the glasses back up to your face, wishing for invisibility. You didn’t want any more attention, and you didn’t want anyone walking you home, you couldn’t run the risk of Mark finding out that you’d shown anyone your black eye. He’d wanted you to keep it hidden today, he was so sorry for what he’d done.

“It’s fine honestly Pippa. Mark’s coming to pick me up later so I won’t be on my own. And anyway I’m not sticking around for the show tonight, it’s my night off, i just came in to work on some charts for Alex for a couple of hours, so I’ll be home before dark anyway.”

“Well…ok. Sorry, I know you don’t need babysitting, I’m just so glad Mark will be with you, he’s a good guy, he must have been so worried about you.”

You zoned out as Pippa started praising Mark but hopefully that was enough to keep her from accompanying you home tonight. You made her promise not to tell anyone else what happened but you realised that was going to be impossible, but Pippa had at least promised to tell people not to ask you about it. You regretted lying so much, and what a shitty lie it was.

After much reassuring her that you were fine, she eventually left you to it. And in the quiet of the office you could finally breathe and concentrate on the charts Alex had asked you to work on. For the next couple of hours you worked on transposing music for new chorus members, tinkering with arrangements and for those two hours things were easy. You could get lost in your work, and notes and squiggles on a page were easier to deal with than real life. The two hours flew past in a whirlwind and you piled your folders together and grabbed your bag ready to head out before the evening crowds assembled for showtime.

As you made your way quietly down the corridor hoping to avoid speaking to anyone as you slipped out, at least until tomorrow, there was Lin. He was completely unaware of you as he sat on the floor near one of the prop rooms. His oversize hoodie was pulled over his head and he was staring intently at his laptop, bobbing his head in time to a beat through his headphones. Looking at him now with strands of hair hanging in his face as he absent-minded tucked them behind his ears he looked so lost in his music, so happy. On any other day you would have joined him and wasted time sharing songs and ideas, bouncing off each other until showtime.  On any other day you could have silently stolen a glance and noted how cute he looked while in full concentration mode. But today wasn’t any other day and you needed  a hot bath and some sleep and to figure out what to do.

You breathed in pushing the sunglasses tight against your face and left through the back door silently. The noise of the street hit you immediately and you realised you felt scared. You felt scared to go home, you felt scared to see Mark. You breathed in slowly, it felt like everything was in slow motion today.

“Hey”

You turned round and there was Lin. He’d followed you out, with his hood pulled down and his headphones hanging round his neck,. “I was waiting for you but you snuck out before saying goodbye”

“I’m sorry, it’s been a weird day, I just need to get home”

You eyes darted around, too scared to look him in the face. Did he know? Had Pippa told everyone?

“You’re not sticking around tonight?”

He looked disappointed.

“It’s my night off, I’m not feeling great. I’m just gonna go home.” You forced a smile but it came out a grimace.

“Has something happened?”

Did he know? You didn’t think he knew. But his eyes narrowed and his mouth tensed with concern.

“It’s nothing. I’m fine, it was nothing you don’t have to worry.”

You turned away, just wanting to escape but you felt his hand reach out to grab your arm. You winced as his hand slipped and he ended up grabbing your wrist. Your wrist was sore and tender from last night, where Mark had grabbed you, digging his fingers and thumb into your wrist to stop you from leaving. You gasped out in shock of being touched.

“Sorry I…” You looked back to see him glancing down at your wrist where faint red finger marks on your skin seemed to give you away. His eyebrows tensed and he looked up at you in shock. You quickly pulled your arm away, embarrassed.

“I need to go…” you began.

“Wait, Y/N..”

“Seriously, can we do this another day?”

Your turned to leave once again, only this time to find Mark walking towards you both, his mouth pursed and his eyes sullen. You hadn’t lied to Pippa, he really was coming to pick you up after work. It was something you’d been dreading.

“Mark!”

“Hey.” He said, not looking you but staring intently at Lin. Lin broke his gaze away from you, and he turned to face Mark. You couldn’t tell what he was piecing together in his mind from your mood, the sunglasses, and now your wrist. His face was solemn and gave nothing away, gone was the cute smile and soft eyes from just a moment ago. He swallowed and smiled and put his hand out to Mark.

“Hey man, you must be Mark, I’ve heard a lot about you.”

—————–

Part 2 coming soon.is here

Jon x Sansa: The Heartache Cure

Summary: Jon finds Sansa in a rather precarious position and Sansa finds herself in desperate need of his trousers. 

Dedicated to @amymel86 for the dialogue line!


“I never thought I’d hear you say that.

Sansa rolled her eyes. “Oh, grow up and take off your trousers.”

“Me grow up?” Jon scoffed, and she could practically see that damned crease between his brows even though he was facing away from her, and god if it didn’t infuriate her more. She watched him move towards the door. “You know asking me to take off my trousers isn’t a reasonable request, right?”

“I’m aware,” Sansa ground out. “But this is not a very reasonable situation and I am not above wrestling those trousers off of you.”

There was a moment of silence before Jon laughed. “Oh, I’d like to see you try.”

For half a second, Sansa seriously considered foregoing her propriety and tackling the arrogant arse into the ground, but then she caught a glimpse of herself in the reflection of the thankfully closed windows and sighed. This was all Margaery’s fault. If she hadn’t gotten Sansa drunk on tequila – ‘a remedy for heartache, Sans; trust me’ – she wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place.

“Thought so,” Jon snorted, the amusement clear in his voice. “The way I see it, you’re at my mercy here and I really don’t see how I would benefit from taking off my trousers.”

“Are you always this much of an arse to everyone or am I just special?” Sansa groaned. Of all the people she’d have to run into today, it had to be Robb’s best friend, the one man on campus that hated her and wasn’t afraid of her brother.

“You’re just special,” Jon chuckled, and she watched him as he leaned against the wall, still facing away from her. “So c’mon then, offer me something in return because I think the quad is getting very busy right now.”

Sansa growled, trying to channel the level of aggression her dog had for strangers, and hoped Jon understood just how much she hated him right now. “Ugh, fine! What do you want?” There was another long pause before Jon poked his head out of the room, causing Sansa to start panicking. “What are you doing! Jon, I swear to –”

“Shhh, I hear someone coming,” he said urgently.

Sansa immediately quietened and waited with bated breath. If someone caught her here with Jon, she was going to kill Margaery. She was going to stab her best friend with a dull butter knife and feel absolutely no remorse.

“Okay, shit, okay,” Jon exhaled as he shut the door and swiftly turned around. As soon as he did, his eyes widened and his hands flew up to shield them. “Sorry. Fuck, I forgot. I swear that wasn’t on purpose!”

“Shut up. What’s going on!”

“It’s Joffrey.” Even in the darkness of the room, Sansa could see Jon’s muscles tighten and she wondered why that was, but then the reality of the situation came falling back down on her and she sucked in a deep breath. Jon nodded. “Yeah, this is bad. I think he’s looking for you.”

“How does he even know I’m here!” Sansa cried out, running her hands frantically through her hair.

“I don’t know. I don’t know,” he replied and sighed loudly. “But here, okay? Just forget about the favour and put some clothes on.” Jon began to unbutton his shirt and threw it at her before stepping out of his trousers and doing the same.

It was absurd to be openly gaping at Jon considering how she was currently naked and her ex-boyfriend was walking towards them right at this second, but Sansa stood rooted to the spot, taking in the sight of her brother’s best friend. She’d always known Jon worked out, but she had no idea he was this… well, this fit. Rippling abs, broad shoulders and that tapered waist that made her mouth go dry. Fuck, why was she even thinking about this?

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Campfire

Requested by @sexy-bookworm-fangirl

The Reader is Tony’s younger sister (a few years) and she loves her hair red, so she dyes it a lot. Tony is more scared of her than Gibbs, and SUPER-PROTECTIVE over her. And Gibbs has super obvious feelings for her. Like, he treats her a lot like Abby, but more flirtatious, and Reader returns his feelings. [Reader is basically the sassier, significantly smarter version of Tony] Please?!?!

A/n - Okay I personally dont think Gibbs would go for someone that young so I made her older than Tony but still younger than Gibbs

Title : Campfire

Pairing : Gibbs x Dinozzo!Reader

POV : Third person

Word Count : 1201

Beta reader : The lovely @lostdreamsanddeadroses


Originally posted by dax-rattler-spare




It was a quiet night at NCIS. Everyone was working, minding their own business. (well if minding your own business involves sitting at your desk, finishing a case file while throwing scrunched up paper balls at your sleeping partner to see how long it would take him to realize what was going on then yeah that)

A typical end to the night.

As if on cue the charming Anthony Dinozzo storms into the bullpen, face contorted in frustration.

“Camp fire!” he yelled slamming the recorder on his desk causing Ziva to run to his desk and smile as McGee woke up disoriented and confused by the scraps of paper that surrounded him.

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vernon; get lost in the rhythm of me

Originally posted by visual-17

Summary: She had less than a month to finish a project she should’ve finished ages ago, and on a whim decides to interview the campus radio show. Little did she know she’d get locked into the Thursday Night Lockdown with a certain campus cutie. Wow I’m sorry I suck at summaries please send help.

Characters: fratboy!Vernon/Original Female + various

Genre: Fluffity fluff (and if you count student stress a lil wittle angst)

Word Count: 5896

01 | 02(?) | 03 (m)(?)

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✦make it up to you✦

↳ Harry x Reader

Requested | Harry imagine when he loses his temper and almost hits you?

Warnings | almost being hit by a lover, swearing

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7

Room Tour: Its been a year since my last update, but I have collected a lot. My favorites by far is my bear head Russell, a bunch of vintage cameras, and my mid century night stand.

Heroes and Legends (pt. 4)

Previous and Next

Wilford wakes to the sound of Dark breaking things… again. It’s been a week since either of them have had a full night’s sleep, and certainly it wears on Dark more so than Wilford. Will rolls out of bed and shuffles through the hall to Dark’s room where the Ego is taking a bat to his bed again. At least he hasn’t hurt himself this time, Wilford thinks and presses farther into the room. There have been times when Dark will turn on Warfstache in his blind rages, and Wilford has had to defend himself in whatever way possible. But this time, when Dark sees Wilford poke into the corner of his vision, his shoulders sag forward, and he drops the bat.

“Hey, Darky. Want to talk about why you’re beating on the bed? I mean, we can get you another one…” Wilford edges closer bit by bit until Dark raises his arm like he’s going to hit him. “Ok, ok!” He raises both hands, a sign that he means no harm… for once.

Dark shakes his head. “Get out.”

“But Dark, if you need to talk…”

“This isn’t one of your interviews, Warfstache!” Dark grits his teeth, shell cracking and bending into different colors.

Will shakes his head. “You think I don’t know that? We’re friends, I just want to help.”

Dark laughs and tilts his head to the side. “Oh, really? You think we’re friends? Is that what you think?” Dark’s aura surges forward, trying to surround Wilford, but Will waves it away like someone has blown smoke in his face. “I put up with you because I have to! That’s it!”

Wilford feels the words hit him in the chest, and it knocks the air out of him. “Fine,” he growls and heads out of the room, slamming the door behind him. He doesn’t like to think that whatever is changing Dark, making him colder, harder, crueler is slowly stealing his only friend from him. But it’s the truth, and Wilford has to face it.


Mark wakes up suddenly one night, Chica asleep at his feet on the couch. Mark nudges her off of him gently, petting her head softly when she looks up at him and talking to her until the golden retriever goes back to sleep. “Good girl, such a good girl,” Mark whispers as he slips out of the room.

He heads for his bedroom at the back of the house, but the closer he gets to his room, the more unnerved he feels. Something about how cold the air in the house has become, something about the way the darkness seems to reach for him lets Mark know he’s in trouble, but just like someone in a horror movie, he keeps moving towards the source. He should know better.

But something else is drawing him in.

When he looks inside his room, Mark is shocked to find someone else standing there beside his recording desk, a hand on his computer and humming quietly to himself. “Who?” Mark manages before the other man turns around to face him. It’s himself, or at least, a much darker version of himself. Mark jumps back. “Darkiplier…”

“Well, well, give the boy a prize.” Dark steps closer to Mark, hands folded behind his back in perfect posture. “It’s good to see you again, Mark. How long has it been? A year already?”

Mark runs a hand through his hair and nods a bit, mouth wide in shock. “Um, yeah. I think so.”

Dark smiles, somewhat pleasant and somewhat threatening. “How have you been? I see that the channel is doing quite well. You must be so proud.”

“Yeah, the channel has really taken off since the last time we talked.” Mark continues to fidget as Dark walks around the room, taking note of the piles of unwashed clothes and the tangle of chargers plugged into the room’s outlets. “What—uh, what brings you by this time?”

“You act as though I need a reason to drop by to see my old friend,” Dark says, putting a hand to his chest as if he’s been wounded by Mark’s words, but Mark is pretty sure this whole thing is a ruse, he’s just not sure how to deal with him. He can’t very well swing the door open and demand that Dark leave. Frankly, Mark is too short for that gesture.

Dark steps closer and places a hand on Mark’s shoulder. “I’m here to check on you. Make sure you’re doing alright. It must be hard living here by yourself, ever since your friends moved out.”

Mark stutters out a shaky, “Well, I-I mean it’s not s-so bad. I’ve got Chi-chica.” He grips his hair and avoids Dark’s gaze.

“I know that it’s hard when you have disagreements with close friends. I’ve had a few myself recently. Maybe you and I can… talk it out together, huh?” Dark tilts his head to the side, so sympathetic and understanding. It’s been a while since Mark has had someone to talk to about what happened with the Cyndago guys, and he’s so, so tired.

“Mark, you know that I exist because of you. I have you to thank that I can be here right now. Won’t you let me in, trust me enough to let me help you?” Dark’s aura wraps around Mark like a hug, like the embrace of cold, black water, and Mark is too late to gasp for air as he goes under.

Mark’s vision goes black for a bit as he whispers, “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“Good, good,” Dark says happily, gripping both of Mark’s shoulders and smiling, baring his teeth. “It’s about time you and I had a little… heart to heart…”

Surprising Confessions

Young!Remus Lupin x Reader

Summary: you and Remus haven’t seen each other since leaving Hogwarts for the summer holidays and when you finally get to spend some time alone, he confesses a surprise to you.

Words: 2012

A/N: Okay so this is the first thing I’ve written in a while and is the first imagine I’ve written on here, so please forgive me. This was originally supposed to be a blurb from a prompt given to me by a friend for a first kiss between the reader and Remus but I was watching friends while I started brainstorming what to write and I ended up using a prompt from the show.(in the episode where it’s Thanksgiving and Chandler gets mad at Monica and to make up for it, she puts a turkey on her head and dances around to cheer him up.) Anyway if you haven’t seen the episode I highly recommend it, it’s hilarious. Anyway, I hope you like it :)


Remus and yourself had been friends for as long as you could remember. You knew about his lycanthropy and had for some time now. You were one of the only people that Remus was fully comfortable around, other than his three trouble making, partners in crime. Before you both came to Hogwarts, you often kept in touch and visited during holidays, but after you were both sorted into Gryffindor you became almost inseparable. The bond you had was growing and over the years developed into a beautiful relationship. It wasn’t until 5th year that the marauders convinced Remus to ask you on a date, on which you spent the day sitting by the lake with a picnic full of food that James and Sirius nicked from the kitchens.

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