this was supposed to be eleven graphic and it ended up on this

The Rose Colored Days was a short story written for the volume 3 special edition by Japanese writer Koujou Yutaka. It was originally translated by drug-holic on LiveJournal over eight years ago. Unfortunately, the original translator has disappeared from the internet and I have been unable to track them down.

While working on my archiving project, I stumbled upon this translation again and have decided to publish it. I’ve done a bit of editing for clarity and grammar’s sake, but haven’t changed much. 

This is a story about Soubi between Seimei’s death and meeting Ritsuka. The story is written in a very blunt, short way and the translator notes that the language used by Soubi (the narrator) is very simple due to him being extremely depressed at the time. The translator also notes that he also ‘doesn’t care about life’.   

Below is the text for it, but the document with my notes and the translator’s original notes can also be viewed here on my archiving drive

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Treat You Better

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Relationship: Reader x OC, eventual Reader x Spencer Reid

Summary: Spencer was too late to tell you how he felt. Now he has to watch your new relationship progress, knowing he could treat you better. Inspired by “Treat You Better” by Shawn Mendes.

Requested By: Anonymous

Warning: Mentions of an abusive relationship. Nothing overly violent or graphic. But could be triggering?

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Jimin 1 - You 0 (Part 1) M/NSFW *GIFS*

This is a very graphic smut, so a warning for any young ones, this not your ordinary fluff or scenario. This is a smut with explicit content and gifs, so click away please. *Any GIFs used are not mine*

Your eyes fluttered open as you felt your legs being lifted upwards and towards your body. A shiver ran through your spine as a delicious warmth made a presence between your thighs. You blinked several times to get rid of the sleep in your eyes, trying to grasp what was happening through the woozy state your mind was in.

You realised that your boyfriend, Jimin had lifted your legs and pushed them towards your body. You quickly noticed that the delicious warmth you had felt was Jimin rubbing his hard on against your core.

“Babe, I’m not wet enough~” You moaned and pushed him backwards stroking his shaft lightly as he had been rubbing the tip of his penis up and down against your slit and tried to enter you.

“Plus we just we went through two rounds already, I’m so sore and tired.” You sighed and pouted as you went to go close your eyes to catch up on some well-deserved sleep after the number Jimin had done on you earlier. You briefly glanced at the digital clock situated on the mahogany bedside table to the right hand side of the Queen sized bed.

04:15

A string of curse words threatened to slip out of your mouth but you held back and settled for swearing at Jimin in your mind. Close to eleven in the evening the night before, he had walked into the apartment you shared with him and straight away, without a word spoken, grabbed at your face with both hands attaching his lips to your own. Sensually moving his lips against yours and teasing you by biting at your lips

He made sure he had his way with you for the rest of the night before gathering you in his arms and spooning you as you both slept. His firm muscled arms caging you against his chest and his face nestled in your neck made you feel protected as you both went off to dreamland.

You then reminded yourself that he had woken you up at 2am to go for another round since he had still been horny after the first round. After being away for 2 weeks, you realised how needy he was since he had been living at the dorm with the rest of the boys as it was closer to the company building. He had to stay at the dorm since it was getting close the concert date and they needed to practice to make sure the concert would go smoothly.

Originally, Jimin was supposed to stay for a few more days, but he ended up coming home earlier after the boys had practically forced him to come home. You knew your boyfriend like the back of your hand, he was a practice bug. He had overworked and stressed himself out by practicing hours upon hours trying to perfect the dance routines so that he could please his beloved ARMYs. You loved the dedication and love he had for his fans, but when it came to his health being affected, he had to be reminded by others to take it easy and bring it down a notch.

The relief on his face was evident as soon as he came home and saw you. He had probably missed having you by his side when he went to sleep, not to mention the fact that he went without sex for 2 weeks. Normally you’d have killed him for waking you up, as sleep was one of your favourite things to do, but you sympathised with him and made an exception allowing the second round to happen.

However, this was the second time he had broken your sleep and you didn’t want to let him get away with it but your stamina was completely drained. You felt boneless after the multiple orgasms he brought you to earlier. So you just settled on just frowning at him.

 You narrowed your eyes at him just hoping he’d feel a little apologetic seeing as though he knew you had to go to work in the morning so you had to be up by 7. Only to be presented with a shameless Jimin kneeling between your legs with his right hand on his hard on slowly pumping it up and down, teeth digging into his full bottom lip with his head tilted back as he stared down at you.

He noticed your frowny face and moaned as he stopped pumping himself. He quickly lowered himself above you, burying his face in your neck rubbing his nose against the sensitive skin. His body firmly above yours but not fully placing his weight on top of yours.

“Please baby, I’ve missed you so goddamn much over these past two weeks,” his lips starting to shower your neck with endless kisses. “I haven’t been with you for a whole two weeks~!” You could tell from the tone of his voice that he was pouting and the emphasis he placed on the two weeks made you smile. Your boyfriend knew that you had a weakness for his aegyo and that he would get away with anything and everything if he’d act cute. He looked up at your face and you quickly erased the smile of your face.

“Did you just smile?” Jimin asked, a full blown grin taking over his face, his cute eyesmile that melts you every time making an appearance. (But seriously that eyesmile could kill)

“What? No, I didn’t.” you replied, trying hard to show indifference on your face and to not smile back at him.

“Really? I could’ve sworn you did seeing as though I felt your face move. And I know you can’t resist staying mad at a cutie like me~” he cheekily teased. (What a piece of shit) You felt your resistance wearing thin and he could also tell when you raised your chin giving him more access to your throat.

“Please,” *kiss* “baby,” *kiss* “I’ll do all the work,” *kiss* “I promise.”

You moaned the sensation of his thick lips and his gravely sleepy voice sending vibrations against your neck. You didn’t know how he could change from being the cutest smol to a sex god, it didn’t make sense to you even after dating for 2 years. After those kisses you knew that you had given in to him. You rolled your eyes as you made the decision that Jimin was more important than sleep. He was too lovable for his own good.

Jimin 1 - You 0

(To Be Continued)

(^ This will be a continuous theme in Jimin smuts, so watch out for those. Let’s see who wins) 

Okay guys that was the first ever smut I’ve written, how was it? Please comment and give criticism on what I can change or any ideas for the whole YouVSJM smut series. There’s a preview of part 2 of the Jimin smut series down below

“All you have to do is sit there and enjoy yoursel-” you cut off what he was about to say with a kiss of your own, fingers weaving through his hair, tugging on it a little. An abrupt moan from him was swallowed by the increasing intensity of the kiss. Taking advantage of his distracted state, you quickly pushed against his chest and rolled him over so that you were on top, straddling his waist 

“I’ll be in control this time, baby~” you said as you smirked down at his taken aback face

tdoj  asked:

For the fic name thingy: A Drop Of Liquid Sunshine

okay i’m gonna try and get back into doing these, so if you’re new (hello!), these are synopses of fics that i would write based on the titles people sent to me. and with this one, literally the only thing i can think of is felix felicis, so this could only really be a harry potter au. 

so. harry’s a sixth year ravenclaw hell bent on creating potions to cure – not just ease – muggle diseases and cancers. he’s muggleborn, and the moment he learned about magic and found out that he had that power in him, he wondered why everyone didn’t just, y’know, use it to help others. he gets the whole statute of secrecy thing (because he read the whole thing as an eleven-year-old), but he doesn’t understand how anyone could see the suffering of others (magic or muggle or anything in between) and be okay with it. 

he’s been locked out of the common room for arguing with the door knocker about her logic again (she said that the answer to “what flies without wings?” was time which, yeah, harry gets that, but also he learned a spell in his very first charms class ever that proves that clever bit of wordplay wrong so, because wingardium leviosa is a thing that exists, everything has the potential to fly without wings and if she can’t accept that then fine) and so he’s down in the library, compiling texts from the restricted section about early wizard-muggle relations before the statute of secrecy was adopted. he opens the first one, sees a graphic illustration of a witch being burned at the stake, flips to another page and sees a muggle being burned at the stake instead, and closes it, realizing why the books were there in the restricted section in the first place. 

for a while, he just sits there, his head against the pile of deeply disturbing books, considering going back up to the tower and apologizing to the door knocker. it’s not her fault he was in a bad mood, he’s just stalled on the progress of his potion to cure heart disease and can’t move forward until he figures out how his latest attempt reacts to niffler hair, which just went on the ministry’s restricted materials list and is now impossible to get ahold of. 

suddenly, someone takes a seat across from him. 

Keep reading

Real-Life French Mistake, part 2

For all those who requested a sequel to Real-Life French Mistake!

______________________________________________________________

Your room was strange.

It was strange because everything was familiar.

The clothes in the closet were yours. The books stacked on the desk were yours. The sheets and blankets strewn on the bed were yours.

You stepped over to the bed. A laptop, your laptop, was sitting near the pillow. You opened it and woke it up. It accepted your password.

‘What is happening?’

A thought began to tickle your mind, that memory of the idea that this could be a reverse French Mistake. You clicked on your browser and typed ‘Supernatural’ into the search bar.

The only thing that showed up were a few sites dedicated to the books.

Nothing about the television show.

You deleted the search and typed in Jensen’s name, then Jared’s. You even broke down and did Misha’s.

Nothing.

Those people did not exist here.

You leaned back against the pillows. You didn’t know where to go from here.

‘Maybe if I go to sleep, I’ll wake up where I’m supposed to be,’ you thought. The thought slightly saddened you—you didn’t really want to leave Sam. But you knew the real world was where you belonged.

______________________________________________________________

The next morning you woke up to your mother shaking your shoulder.

Or so you thought.

“Y/N, wake up.”

Your eyes sprang open at the sound of Sam’s voice. “What the hell?!”

Sam was startled by your reaction. “Hey, it’s just me.”

You looked around. You were still in ‘your room’ in the bunker. Sam stood in front of you, already dressed in typical jeans and a plaid flannel.

His eyes trailed over you. “Sweetheart, are you okay?”

The pet name made you blush. “I, uh…”

Sam carefully sat on the edge of your bed. He gently tipped your chin towards him, looking into your eyes. He placed a large hand on your forehead. “Are you ill?”

“I’m fine,” you said, trying to smile reassuringly.

Sam’s brow was creased but he gave you a tiny smile. “Get dressed. Dean wants to go into town today, get some supplies. I think the fresh air would do you good.”

You nodded. Sam pressed a kiss to your forehead before leaving.

______________________________________________________________

You stayed by Sam’s side as the brothers shopped for supplies and food, his hand slipped into yours. It was strangely comforting. You could get used to this.

But should you?

“Holy crap.”

You and Sam looked up at Dean’s statement. The man at the end of the aisle did, too.

“Chuck?” Sam asked.

Chuck.

His eyes darted to you before turning back to the Winchesters. “Sam. Dean. Haven’t seen you in a while.”

“What are you doing here?” Dean asked.

“Oh, well, you know. A prophet’s gotta eat.”

“Written any more books?” Sam asked.

Chuck gave a nervous laugh. “No, no. You asked me not to, so…”

“Good,” Dean said. “We don’t want any more of that crap circulating.”

“Right.” Chuck gave a tiny smile before turning back to the wall of breakfast cereals.

Dean stepped around him and Sam began to follow. You let go of Sam’s hand, causing him to turn around.

“Y/N?”

“I just… I’ll be right there. There’s something I have to ask Chuck.”

Sam nodded but looked uneasy about leaving you alone. He followed Dean out of the aisle.

You turned to Chuck, who was looking at you. “Chuck… you… you know me.”

“Of course I do, Y/N.”

“No, I mean… you know me. You know I’m not…”

Chuck gave you a tiny smile. “You’re not what? From here?”

You bit your lip. You didn’t really know where this was going.

“Go ahead, Y/N. Ask me.”

“Do I… I mean, how… why…”

“Because you needed it.”

The answer surprised you. “What?”

“Y/N, you were desperate to get out. You needed something… better. You needed the Winchesters. And they needed you.”

“But… they have memories of me that I don’t. How can that happen?”

“Look, I can’t give you all the answers you’re looking for. But I can tell you that there’s a complete collection of the Supernatural books hidden on a bottom shelf in the library at the bunker.” Chuck smiled at you. “Words have amazing power.”

You nodded. You vowed that the moment you got back, you would find those books and read them all. You had to get some answers. “But… surely my old life… what if…”

“You can return, Y/N. If you really want to. But the decision is yours.” Chuck paused. “Give it some time. Because once you make it… it can’t be reversed.”

Your heart froze. How could such an important thing be placed upon you? What if you chose wrong?

Chuck gave you a nod and a slightly sorrowful smile and turned, preparing to leave.

“Chuck, wait.”

He turned.

“I have one more question.”

He gave you a gentle smile, waiting.

“Are… are you God?”

Chuck’s smile turned into a smirk. He gave you a wink before disappearing.

______________________________________________________________

Once you were back at the bunker, you quickly found the books, exactly where Chuck had said they would be. You snuck off into your room, books threatening to fall from your arms. You shut yourself away and flipped through the books.

You didn’t appear until book ten (although there was a slight mention of you in book nine). You were (apparently) a hunter that fell in with the Winchesters after an almost-deadly hunt. By book eleven, there were definite hints that you and Sam liked each other. Book twelve had you two sharing a kiss behind Dean’s back. Book fourteen had mentions of sex—nothing graphic, but it was understood that the two of you had deepened your relationship.

Your eyes were burning as you finished the fifteenth book. You still had a few that you wanted to flip through, but you didn’t think you could make it through them tonight. You looked over at your clock—it was just after one in the morning.

You changed into your pajamas and slipped down between the covers. But you found that even as tired as you were, you couldn’t sleep. The words you’d read kept tumbling around in your mind. And your heart kept sending its own message:

Sam.

From what you’d read, the relationship you had with him was solid and loving and… it’s exactly what you wanted.

You thought about how concerned he’d been recently, wanting to fix whatever was wrong with you, but willing to give you space.

But what if what you needed wasn’t space?

Before you could stop yourself, you got out of bed and padded down the hall. You gently tapped on his bedroom door. “Sam?”

When you got no response, you almost left. But you reached down and turned the doorknob, slowly opening the door.

You saw his figure stretched out on his bed. You slowly shut the door and let your eyes adjust to the darkness. You quietly stepped over to the bed. “Sam?”

You got no response but a soft snore. You bit your lip but slid into his bed, curling up next to him. You stared at his features in the dark.

You loved this man.

Still partially asleep, Sam scooted over towards you. He wrapped his arm around you, bringing you into his chest. He nuzzled against your hair. “Love you,” he mumbled.

You snuggled into his warmth. “Love you, too.”

smitchnz  asked:

How does math work for Irathient/Castithan (they seem to be similar...I suspect that the Castithan uplifted the Irathient math system whole...;) )? In English we get to ten and then it's eleven. In other base 10 systems it would be ten one, ten two etc. English does it similar once we get to twenty - Twenty one etc. Currently we have the words for 0-5 for Irathient (and symbols for 0-9), and words for 1-3 in Casithan, but I am curious about what happens once you hit "ten" (20) or higher.

I think it’s about time to do another hellbug giveaway! So, without further ado, this post is a hellbug eligible post! If you would like a plush hellbug, please reblog this post by 5 pm ET next Thursday, when episode 206 of Defiance will air!

All right, now to the meat of this question. First, a bit of a history lesson. Castithan has been base-20 since Castithans started bathing. Indogenes can use whatever system they want, and so they developed a base-7 system when they developed their writing system (I imagine that project being something like an Apple product launch). Irathients, on the other hand, used a base-18 system. And before y’all math historians get up on me, I found a way to count to 18 using just your hands. Start at the left with the thumb. Count the thumb tip. Then count the space between the thumb and index finger. Then count the index finger tip. Proceed in this fashion till you get to the end then jump to the other hand and repeat starting with the pinky tip. When you get to the tip of your other thumb, guess what number that is? EIGHT. TEEN. #micdrop

Anyway, since the Indogenes are flexible, they can deal with base-20 (or base-whatever). Elsewhere, the Votanis Solar System came to an intergalactic accord and settled on base-20. It’d be kind of like if we all converted to metric (we really should. Just keep feet/yards for height and sports). This meant that anyone without a base-20 system would be pressured to move to a base-20 system. This is precisely what Irathient did.

So, back to your query, smitchnz, Castithan didn’t uplift the Irathient system: Irathient adjusted to the Castithan system. Consequently, it makes most sense to begin this discussion with the Castithan system.

Below are the numbers 0-19 in the Castithan orthography:

The Castithan numeral words you see above are just for counting. If you want to modify something (e.g. to say “five stripes”), you have to use a different form of the word (i.e. jalya ajivano). In the case of the numeral “one”, ave, the form is totally different—thus, ave if you’re counting, but fila gialino, “one rug”.

The forms of the numbers are as you see above. 18 is my favorite. Looks like the graphic manifestation of the name of a piece of furniture from Ikea. Some of these are just stupid—like 15. I created them that way on purpose because the Castithan language itself was supposed be evocative of some of the worst absurdities in English (e.g. our crazy spelling system). In particular, I wanted the numbers to be funky so they would look particularly out of place when grafted onto the Irathient numeral system, which we’ll look at next.

As I said, Irathient is now base-20, thanks to Castithan. The numbers 0-19 are shown below:

Those shapes should look rather familiar. Comparing the two sets is probably something like comparing Devanagari numerals to Gujarati numerals. The forms are unique, though, for the most part (Irathient borrowed the Castithan word for “zero”). The forms you see above are just for counting. To modify a noun, most of the time you strip off the final vowel and treat the word like an adjective. Thus, to say “three rivers”, you’d say ulik tukagnu.

To me, the forms look atrocious (so much cleaner in Castithan), but that, again, was the point. The style is non-Irathient. The original Irathient numbers would have been much more in keeping with the style of the writing system, but they were washed away by Castithan imperialism. This is what they’re left with.

Of the words used above, there are a few things to notice. First, the words for 9, 10 and 18 don’t inflect the way the others do. They wear their etymologies on their sleeve, though, so it’s obvious why they don’t: they’re nouns, not adjectives. The word theganu comes from the same root as eganu, which means “fist” (because when you get to nine, one full hand has been counted). Thetusu is related to the verb shetusu, “jump” (since at this point you jump to the other hand). Then the word thenu is the same word for “end” or “conclusion”. When modifying a number, they have to take on adjectival morphology, e.g. nurrise nǝthetusu “ten maps”.

So. Now that that’s out of the way, the next question is: What happens when you get to twenty and twenty one? You actually see a bit of a preview of that with the Irathient numerals for 18 and 19. Thenu was the old numeral that ended the chain—the 18 in the base-18 system. 19, then, was the next one. That’s basically what’s done for 20 and 21 in both Castithan and Irathient. In Castithan, the word for twenty is suda. To form numbers beyond that, you just add the next numeral, so suda ave is 21, suda kama is 22, etc. What’s 30? 30 is basically the equivalent of 15 in a base-20 system, so it’s not special at all; it’s just suda china, 20-10. Once you get to 40, you start to see a system where you add the suffix -sta to a numeral, so kamasta 40, dunista 60, surista 80, etc.

Irathient is a little crazy when it comes to this. You saw thenu ki zema for 19. The word ki is not an Irathient word. That’s actually the Castithan word for “and”. It was borrowed into Irathient specifically for the numbers, because Irathient doesn’t really build the way Castithan does. Thus, when you get to 20, where the word is suta, the numeral follows it attached by ki, thus suta ki zema 21, suta ki ekta 22, suta ki kagne 23, etc.

Since Irathient’s versions of 20, 30, 40, etc. were all done in multiples of 18, all the equivalent words were borrowed directly from Castithan. A list is given below (Castithan on the left, Irathient on the right):

  • 20 suda~suta
  • 40 kamasta~kámasta
  • 60 dunista~dúnista
  • 80 surista~súrista
  • 100 jalista~gyálista
  • 120 vyenggasta~víngasta
  • 140 wogasta~úgasta

Etc. Notice that the Irathient forms were borrowed at a time before a lot of the sound changes in Castithan happened, and their pronunciation reflects that.

Anyway, math works much the same way it does in English with a base-20 system; it’s just that everything’s halved in how you express it. In English, 10 + 10 = 20, and the same is true in a base-20 system, except that their 10 = our 20, and so their 20 = our 40. Also, their numerals 11-19 are considered just as basic as our numerals 1-9. Where an English speaker would say “Count to 10”, a Castithan speaker would probably say “Count to 20”. Thus, their games of hide-and-go-seek will be inherently longer. (But will their parents have more patience? I doubt it. There’s seem to be something useful about giving a child till the count of three.) Of all the bases I could’ve picked, base-20 is probably one of the least taxing. Now Indogene math… That I don’t even want to think about.


*****

And, again, if you would like to win a free hellbug, please reblog this post! You can also retweet the tweet associated with this post. You have until 8 pm ET July 24th when episode 206 of Defiance airs on Syfy. Again, if you win, you’ll need to give me a mailing address so I can send you the hellbug, but otherwise, that’s all there is to it! This is the third of five total chances to win a hellbug this season. Best of luck! And also don’t forget to say a big thank you to @TrickDempsey on Twitter (creative lead for the game Defiance) who provided me with the hellbugs to give away.

UPDATE: The third hellbug has been claimed by Twitter user @entropiccu. Stay tuned for the fourth opportunity to win a hellbug next week!

Soulmate!Luke

Originally posted by mukesmum

Prompt: The one where the first words of what your soulmate will say to you is tattooed somewhere on your body.

Pairing: Luke + Y/N

Rating: No hardcore smut, just a few sexual things being mentioned. Mom wouldn’t be THAT disappointed… maybe. Depends on your mom.

Requested: Nah, did it just because.

TW: Alcohol/drinking, swearing, mild sexual conversations, all that jazz.

A/N: Hey! :) So here’s some new material I’ve got for you guys to read! It’s idk, I wanted to try a hand at this and came up with this thing. I hope it turns out decent.

***

She watches him eyeing the girls surrounding his vicinity and she prayed to whatever god she believed in that he wouldn’t look her way. It was impossible; given the fact that soul mates were naturally drawn to each other, she had to try which is why she closed her eyes and begged that he listened to her. She couldn’t risk anything.

When she turned six, she was considered one of the special ones by her parents, namely her mother. The first words her soul mate would say to her was etched onto the back of her right shoulder and when her mother had read it, thinking it’d be cute, she gasped in complete and utter shock instead. She remembered only because when her father had read the words next, he muttered something about a shotgun to shoot the guy’s brains out. It was graphic for her to hear that at the time but as she grew older, she realized that her father’s reaction was completely reasonable.

‘Mommy, what does it say? Is he or she going to steal my crayons like what daddy did to you?’

‘Oh no darling, this is much more than that!’

‘Are they going to pull my hair or push me down? I don’t want a meanie.’

‘No darling but if someone decides to do that to you, you let me or daddy know okay? We will teach them a lesson.’

‘Then what is it?’

‘You basically have the name of your soul mate and it sounds like his name is Luke Hemmings.’

Since then, his name was permanently ingrained in her mind and whenever she looked back at the tattoo, she’d blush in response. She never really wanted to cover it up despite her parents protests but when she was in the 5th grade, the quiet boy in her English class told her what his words had truly meant.

‘Ew! That’s so gross! How do you know that!?’

‘A few boys in our class said they watched porn with their older brothers and I just thought I’d tell you that.’

‘Oh my god, my soul mate is a sick person.’

‘Not necessarily, he’s just thinking with his other head.’

‘How am I supposed to protect myself if he does something bad?’

‘Here’s a deal, if you eat lunch with me today, I’ll protect you from him whenever you need me too!’

‘Deal!’

Looking at the marking now, she would roll her eyes in annoyance and scoff, noticing the arrogance laced behind Luke’s words. Whenever she went out, she made sure to cover it with make up or a jacket no matter how hot it was. “Y/N, honey. You’re drooling.” Turning to face the source, she blushed and took a sip of the beer she ordered not too long ago.

“Shut up Brysen.” The boy beside her laughed which caused her to smile in return. She loved having him around and she was more than proud to call him her best friend. With his sweet and teasing nature, it was no wonder they had clicked back in elementary school. She could always count on to him make her smile and the feelings were mutual from his side. “I’m serious though, you were looking at him with want in your eyes. If I didn’t know you, I’d say that you wanted to jump his bones.”

“I wanted him to not look at me, you know that.”

“I don’t understand why you can’t just tell him you guys are soul mates.”

Sighing in defeat, she looked back at the boy a few feet away from her as she finally noticed another familiar face. Sadness loomed over her and she couldn’t help but think back to the day she put a face to his name. It was about two to three years ago when Brysen had found a video of the underwear song they heard at their local Target. When he had showed it to her, she wasn’t going to lie. She fell for the band’s drummer and thought he had the cutest smile ever. But as they watched a few more of their old music videos, the blonde lead singer seemed to catch her eye. She remembered the urge to look him up and when she did, she understood why she liked him. “I told you so much times before that I can’t ruin his life. He seems to enjoy being who he is now and you seen the interview.”

“But that was a year ago!” Chugging down the rest of the beer, Brysen took the empty bottle from her and ordered her a new one. It was the reason they stayed near the bar instead of dancing on the dance floor. Drinks were necessary and finding a spot to order was hell. 

“Which means it’s still fresh. He told the whole fucking planet he wasn’t interested in finding his soul mate and that he didn’t care who I was!” She exclaimed as he finally got his order and gave her the alcoholic beverage. “Really, a martini?”

“We are supposed to let loose tonight, it’s why we’re here at the club remember?”

“You couldn’t order something stronger? I’m trying to get shitfaced by the end of the night, work was a pain in the ass.” She chuckled as he shook his head, agreeing with her. “I’m serious though. He said that a year ago, who knows if he meant it or not? His management could have told him to say that.”

“Whatever his reason may be, if he talks to me, I will not answer. I don’t want him to know that I’m his soul mate. He seems happy with that girl anyway.” Nodding her head to where he stood, she sipped her martini as Brysen put a hand on his hip. “That’s a dick move.”

“I have a tattoo of him basically saying I’m just a booty call so am I not entitled to feel and act the way I do now?” She didn’t like where theis conversation was heading and she was thankful her friend backed down. “What happened to my sweet and loving Y/N?”

“She’s not getting what she deserves and she just wants to avoid him forever so he could be happy and live life with that girl.”

“He isn’t happy with her if he’s going to say that to you someday, maybe tonight.”

“Suck a dick.” She muttered as he winked. “Trying to.”

With the night progressing, nine soon turned to eleven and her ability to think clearly was impaired sightly by the amount of alcohol she drank. Both her and Brysen danced with a few guys and as she dragged him back to the bar to order another drink, she heard the words. Those words she didn’t plan on hearing.

“Hi, my name’s Luke Hemmings and you’ll be screaming that when I make you cum more than three times in my bed.” With her eyes widening, she looked at Brysen as he smiled deviously.

“Oh, would you look at that? I see someone hot, I have to get his number!” Before she could utter out a reply, her friend had left as Luke stared at her with the cockiest grin she’d ever witnessed. So much for Brysen’s promise. Reminding herself to stay quiet, she had waved for the bartender, silently taking in his disheveled appearance. His hair was matted down to his forehead due to his sweat, his lip ring was missing and she could see a few necklaces adorning his chest. Glancing at his face, she saw he had a scruff forming and his eyes were twinkling due to the bar’s lighting and she squeaked. He was better looking in person that the pictures online didn’t do him any justice.

“You can take a picture, I won’t mind.” Scoffing at his words, the bartender finally came to take her order as she leaned in to the guy’s ear to whisper what she wanted. Beaming and sending a wink in response, she gazed back at Luke who stared back at her in curiosity. He was a bit confused on why she wasn’t talking and she was a nervous wreck. If she spoke, that was the end of everything. She pictured the rejection coming out of his mouth and it made her insides churn. If she talked to others and he was within earshot, she wondered if it would be the phrase that was tattooed somewhere on his body. No, she couldn’t risk it. “Why aren’t you talking to me?”

The bartender finally returned with drinks and as she took shot after shot of the expensive whiskey, he stopped her. “Stop, we’re already shitfaced, I think, and if you drink more, you’ll get alcohol poisoning and that’s not happening on my watch!” She wanted to tell him to fuck off and she was about to when she stopped herself. He noted the way she opened and closed her mouth, appearing like she wanted to say something but didn’t have the balls too and he snickered causing her to glare at him. After all, he did love a challenge.

“You seem like a fish out of water. Do I intimidate you?” Trying to find a way out of the conversation, he smiled innocently at her. “Would you care for a dance?” Quickly nodding no, he took her hand anyway and led her to the dance floor, moving his hands to hold her waist. Staring up at him, her throat had tightened and she swallowed in fear. The more he was persistent and the more he stayed near her, she’d eventually speak or do something worse.

“Mark my words, I’ll make you talk by morning time.” He whispered into her ear as she gulped. She was screwed.

***

A/N: Wooomp. That’s the end of that, hahah. I liked this idea, Luke’s a bit of an asshole in this, I think. But not super asshole, you know, like some guys. If there was an errors present, I’m sorry. I try my best with grammar and cutting down words. This probably ended up boring but ayyyy, I’m sure the next part should be better, if you guys want more of it :p If you want the same thing for another boy, also let me know :) Well, okay then. Bye! Until next time x

Click here for part 2 :-)

dreams of a fictional TIME magazine cover with ND on it that says 

“America is hooked on SING, Brian Collin’s televised musical comedy series. But what most don’t know is that it was inspired by the life of lead actress RACHEL BERRY and her friends”

“Directed by ARTIE ABRAMS and co-written among ELEVEN different writers, meet some of the minds and inspiration behind the hit SING and discover where your televised favorites ended up in real life!”

then the next twelve pages are spreads, one on each member of ND and what they’re doing now, and they’re all like “Blaine Anderson-Hummel, Broadway’s sweetheart” and “Three-time Grammy Award Winner Mercedes Jones-Evans” and “World-Renown Diplomat and Famed Attorney Lucy Quinn Fabray”

and also the article has spoilers and mentions that Blaine is supposed to play the fictional equivalent of Berry’s future husband, Jamie St. Jonathan. 

and Jacob Puckerman is one of the show’s choreographers, and Marley and Unique are basically the Anders brothers. Ryder is Joaquin, and Sam plays Brad the Piano Guy.

Tina (Brad), Kurt (Ryan), and Brittany (Ian) are the Head Writers, though others contribute a lot.

someone who is good at photoshop, make it happen