#『 thread: wallflower blooming 』

[shoutoutout]

I've started up another Harlivy fic and was digging through my docs and found this old version of the noses & kneecaps section of she breaks (out, down, through). I cut it way down and changed up the setting for the published version but this Harley quote had me giggling so I thought I'd post here for folks!

Harley turns to the chef.  “If you fucking spit in this food I will literally gut you right now, you hear me?  I’m not letting my bestie eat any of your loogies so tell me if you did because she’ll fucking know, alright?  This bitch will taste them and then you’ll be dead and the misses and junior over there are gonna have a sad as shit Christmas this year.”

You can read the rest under the cut

Surprising no one, Ivy’s not that great at the whole “friendship” thing.

For starters, she has no frame of reference by which to judge.  Like her namesake, she was a wallflower as a child and when high school rolled around she bloomed into a sarcastic loner with Indigo Girls blasting through her headphones.  It left little room for normal girl shit like… well… she would name something if she knew.

But even still, with all her lack of experience, she’s pretty sure that this—Harley’s idea of friendship—is not quite normal.

“I could use some new threads.” Harley calls Ivy out of the blue on a Wednesday evening.  “Cops confiscated all the stuff back at my old place… not like I’d wear any of it anymore.  God, I was such a tightass wasn’t I, Ives?  So how about it?  A girl’s day out?”

Ivy doesn’t know what to say, knuckles pale green where they grip the phone.  She regrets giving Harley her number.  (And by “giving” she means Harley snatching the phone from her pocket and calling herself before Ivy had the chance to stop her.)  The thought of strolling through a department store with Harley causes her anxiety to ratchet the way it did when the pretty girls would laugh at her in English class.  What would they even talk about for fuck’s sake?

Not much to start, it turns out.  Harley’s version of shopping is a lot less mundane and a lot more criminal.  They end up taking twelve hostages in Bergsduff’s and leaving with two hundred thousand in designer goods.  Muzak plays idly in the background as Harley holds the salesclerk at gunpoint, parading him around the floor while Ivy snatches up some cute summer looks.  His nose drips blood from where she pistol-whipped him upon entrance.

“Hey, try those on,” Harley suggests, waving the gun wildly towards a pair of gold-rimmed sunglasses.  The hostages in her line of fire duck and scramble when it points in their direction.  “Those’ll look real hot on you!  Perfect for your face shape.”

Even the sales clerks—with the barrel of Harley’s gun poking between his shoulder blades—can’t help but agree.

Ivy slips them into her pocket.

They go to dinner.

“And it better be fucking vegan, alright?!” Harley screeches through the kitchen door.  When she turns back to Ivy, she’s all grins and bubbles.  “He said it should be right out!” she relays, skipping back towards the table.

Ivy glances towards the chef’s wife and son where they lay bound and gagged, piled in the living room corner.  Harley had arranged a “private meal” by Gotham’s hottest new chef after Ivy had told her the reservations for his restaurant were usually booked a month in advance.

“Are you sure we don’t have to worry about them?” Ivy asks with a skeptical slant towards their hostages?

“Nah,” Harley dismisses.  “They’re chill.”

Their captive hosts nod in agreement, wide-eyed and terrified.

They talk about boys.

“So like I was saying,” Harley picks up where she left off, twirling a fork between two fingers.  “Joker has some real ripe areas for improvement with the overall rollout of his new brand vision before the Legion of Doom induction, ya know?  Just some things I’m helpin’ him out with… order of operations and stuff like that.”

Ivy’s thankful Harley’s doing all the talking.  She fills the space with an endless stream of stray observations and chatter.

She gets a dreamy look in her eye, resting her head against her palm.  “I mean, he’s a real genius, ya know?  It’s pure art what he does.”  (Ivy wants to vomit but the food is coming soon.)  “And don’t ever tell him I said otherwise”—she sits up, clasping her hands together—“but in general, there’s a lack of foresight to some of his schemes.  Like escape plans, for example.  Usually he has it all figured out when Batsy arrives—how to get away that is—but not for the whole crew, ya know?”

Ivy narrows, not quite getting at what she’s saying.

Harley shimmies closer in her chair, propping her elbows on the table.  “Okay, okay, so like, there’ll be a getaway car, right?  But it’s one of those clown cars, like a tiny one.  Only this clown car isn’t like a clown car where it can fit all the rest of us; it’ll just fit him.”  She pauses to let Ivy consider.  “Is that… is that funny?  Like ha-ha Joker-level theatrics?”

Ivy’s dumbfounded.  “A clown car that’s just a regular tiny car…that only Joker can escape in… and he leaves you all behind to get caught,” she summarizes, doubt dripping from her tongue.  “So you’re telling me he just like, takes off in a Smart car?”

“Yes!” Harley nods, excitedly.  Her jester’s cap bounces with the motion.  “Exactly!  Just a Smart car for one.  It could use some work, right?”

Ivy doesn’t even know where to begin.  Luckily the chef returns, placing two gorgeous plates of food before them.  Harley squeals beside her and Ivy snaps to attention, grabbing her fork.  It smells fucking heavenly as it comes to her mouth but then Harley’s hand is strong around her wrist, stopping her mid-bite.

Harley turns to the chef.  “If you fucking spit in this food I will literally gut you right now, you hear me?  I’m not letting my bestie eat any of your loogies so tell me if you did because she’ll fucking know, alright?  This bitch will taste them and then you’ll be dead and the misses and junior over there are gonna have a sad as shit Christmas this year.”

He shakes his head and whimpers; Harley seems satisfied.  They dig in.

“Oh my god,” Ivy says, flavor dancing across her taste buds.  “This is like… orgasmic.”

Harley preens.  “Only the best for my friend!”

Friend.  It rolls so easily off of Harley’s tongue and Ivy wonders what it is exactly that makes this shit so hard for her.  Ivy tries to play along but she’s transported back to English class with Melinda Jenkins snickering every time Ivy raised her hand.  “Ha,” she tries.  “I owe ya one… pal.”

God, she’s a fucking dork but Harley couldn’t care less.  She pounces.  “Come to me and J’s Legion of Doom induction then?!” she asks like the question was burning a hole through her tongue.  “It’s this weekend.  We can drink all of Lex’s fancy-ass champagne.  Please?  Please?  Please, Ivy?”

Harley puppy-dog pouts and Ivy’s stomach flips.  Is this normal friend shit?  She has no idea.

“I’m sorry but fuck no.  No way.  Literally anything but that.”  Harley will just have to deal; Ivy is decidedly not a good friend.

[akanidaifanatic]

a wallflower, quietly standing still

“it takes as much time to build walls sturdy enough for wallflowers like you and me to lean against as it does for us to bloom.” ― ayokunle falomo, thread, this wordweaver must! — you're comfortable with being left alone, yet perhaps there are slivers of empty cracks you wish to fill with joy. staying at the side lines, on the side walk, by the wall... these are all places you are used to being in. you're trying to find a way to grow in other places, farther away from what you've always known. the inner child within seeks to reach further out into the world. perhaps it's scared, has some anxiety, and wishes to cling onto the past... but only time will tell — your beauty is nevertheless a silent and distant sort, lingering.

I found a quiz while browsing Tumblr. Is this some kind of trend? I have no idea.

[composer-of-the-night]

what flower have you blossomed into?

a wallflower, quietly standing still

“it takes as much time to build walls sturdy enough for wallflowers like you and me to lean against as it does for us to bloom.” ― ayokunle falomo, thread, this wordweaver must! — you're comfortable with being left alone, yet perhaps there are slivers of empty cracks you wish to fill with joy. staying at the side lines, on the side walk, by the wall... these are all places you are used to being in. you're trying to find a way to grow in other places, farther away from what you've always known. the inner child within seeks to reach further out into the world. perhaps it's scared, has some anxiety, and wishes to cling onto the past... but only time will tell — your beauty is nevertheless a silent and distant sort, lingering.

tagged by: @extraordinarygrrls (ty!!) tagging: @firstsorrow​ , @lovely-lotte​ , @seraphicsoprano​ , @misdae​

[storyofwhoiam]

Write a letter to your inner child + I’ll tell you what flower you’ve blossomed into

ash — a dandelion, rapidly growing in the field

“dandelions, like all things in nature are beautiful when you take the time to pay attention to them.” ― june stoyer — your resilience is what's gotten you very far in life. those who have trampled and picked on you made it easier for you to spread your seeds — the bright yellow petals you once had, certainly transformed into white, delicate whispies. They floated away into a distance, only to provide you with new opportunities for you to grow your thoughts, ideas, and feelings in other places— that were perhaps harder for them to reach before. even though you've felt unwanted, you nevertheless continued to thrive where other flowers could not.

lucy — a wallflower, quietly standing still

“it takes as much time to build walls sturdy enough for wallflowers like you and me to lean against as it does for us to bloom.” ― ayokunle falomo, thread, this wordweaver must! — you're comfortable with being left alone, yet perhaps there are slivers of empty cracks you wish to fill with joy. staying at the side lines, on the side walk, by the wall... these are all places you are used to being in. you're trying to find a way to grow in other places, farther away from what you've always known. the inner child within seeks to reach further out into the world. perhaps it's scared, has some anxiety, and wishes to cling onto the past... but only time will tell — your beauty is nevertheless a silent and distant sort, lingering.

patsy — a poppy, for remembrance

"through the dancing poppies stole a breeze most softly lulling to my soul." — john keats, endymion (1818), book I, line 565. — you seem to mourn your past, as your inner child has died. you've been through your battles yet still have an immense amount of hope for the future. a yearning for peace of mind is what you have when you try to look for the sparks you've once felt in your life. but remember, you will no longer have to fight or defend yourself after you grow in a field where the vibrance of your petals are commemorated.

tagged by: @proprioceptiion tagging: @byzcntine @knowseverythingaboutyou @shieldretired @seriouslyaliens

[itokunii-a]

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄  𝐀  𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐓𝐎  𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑  𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑  𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃  

a wallflower, quietly standing still.

“it takes as much time to build walls sturdy enough for wallflowers like you and me to lean against as it does for us to bloom.” ― ayokunle falomo, thread, this wordweaver must! —you're comfortable with being left alone, yet perhaps there are slivers of empty cracks you wish to fill with joy. staying at the side lines, on the side walk, by the wall... these are all places you are used to being in. you're trying to find a way to grow in other places, farther away from what you've always known. the inner child within seeks to reach further out into the world. perhaps it's scared, has some anxiety, and wishes to cling onto the past... but only time will tell — your beauty is nevertheless a silent and distant sort, lingering.

a dandelion, rapidly growing in the field.

“dandelions, like all things in nature are beautiful when you take the time to pay attention to them.” ― june stoyer — your resilience is what's gotten you very far in life. those who have trampled and picked on you made it easier for you to spread your seeds — the bright yellow petals you once had, certainly transformed into white, delicate whispies. They floated away into a distance, only to provide you with new opportunities for you to grow your thoughts, ideas, and feelings in other places— that were perhaps harder for them to reach before. even though you've felt unwanted, you nevertheless continued to thrive where other flowers could not.

[arobinwithoutbatman]

Write a letter to your inner child

a wallflower, quietly standing still “it takes as much time to build walls sturdy enough for wallflowers like you and me to lean against as it does for us to bloom.” ― ayokunle falomo, thread, this wordweaver must! — you're comfortable with being left alone, yet perhaps there are slivers of empty cracks you wish to fill with joy. staying at the side lines, on the side walk, by the wall... these are all places you are used to being in. you're trying to find a way to grow in other places, farther away from what you've always known. the inner child within seeks to reach further out into the world. perhaps it's scared, has some anxiety, and wishes to cling onto the past... but only time will tell — your beauty is nevertheless a silent and distant sort, lingering.

"Hm... something to think about."

Stolen from: @49125

Tagging: You

[kitxkatrp]

Write a Letter to Your Inner Child + I’ll Tell You What Flower You’ve Blossomed Into → LINK

a wallflower, quietly standing still

“it takes as much time to build walls sturdy enough for wallflowers like you and me to lean against as it does for us to bloom.” ― ayokunle falomo, thread, this wordweaver must! — you're comfortable with being left alone, yet perhaps there are slivers of empty cracks you wish to fill with joy. staying at the side lines, on the side walk, by the wall... these are all places you are used to being in. you're trying to find a way to grow in other places, farther away from what you've always known. the inner child within seeks to reach further out into the world. perhaps it's scared, has some anxiety, and wishes to cling onto the past... but only time will tell — your beauty is nevertheless a silent and distant sort, lingering.

[aeceso]

write a letter to your inner child + i'll tell you what flower you've blossomed into  

a wallflower, quietly standing still

“it takes as much time to build walls sturdy enough for wallflowers like you and me to lean against as it does for us to bloom.” ― ayokunle falomo, thread, this wordweaver must! — you're comfortable with being left alone, yet perhaps there are slivers of empty cracks you wish to fill with joy. staying at the side lines, on the side walk, by the wall... these are all places you are used to being in. you're trying to find a way to grow in other places, farther away from what you've always known. the inner child within seeks to reach further out into the world. perhaps it's scared, has some anxiety, and wishes to cling onto the past... but only time will tell — your beauty is nevertheless a silent and distant sort, lingering.

[eglcntine-archived]

write a letter to your inner child + i'll tell you what flower you've blossomed into

a dandelion, rapidly growing in the field

“dandelions, like all things in nature are beautiful when you take the time to pay attention to them.” ― june stoyer — 

your resilience is what's gotten you very far in life. those who have trampled and picked on you made it easier for you to spread your seeds — the bright yellow petals you once had, certainly transformed into white, delicate whispies. They floated away into a distance, only to provide you with new opportunities for you to grow your thoughts, ideas, and feelings in other places— that were perhaps harder for them to reach before. even though you've felt unwanted, you nevertheless continued to thrive where other flowers could not.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------[ Severus ]

a wallflower, quietly standing still

“it takes as much time to build walls sturdy enough for wallflowers like you and me to lean against as it does for us to bloom.”― ayokunle falomo, thread, this wordweaver must! — 

you're comfortable with being left alone, yet perhaps there are slivers of empty cracks you wish to fill with joy. staying at the side lines, on the side walk, by the wall... these are all places you are used to being in. you're trying to find a way to grow in other places, farther away from what you've always known. the inner child within seeks to reach further out into the world. perhaps it's scared, has some anxiety, and wishes to cling onto the past... but only time will tell — your beauty is nevertheless a silent and distant sort, lingering.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------[ John M. ]

a chrysanthemum, being the mum of all blooms

"i look for myself but find no one. i belong to the chrysanthemum hour of bright flowers placed in tall vases. i should make an ornament of my soul." — fernando pessoa — 

in the west, the chrysanthumum represents death whereas the east reveres its beauty as a symbol of longevity, hope, and gentle kindness. your beauty is so grand; it draws in a polarity of people. perhaps you sometimes struggle with accepting other people's opinions and viewpoints about you, and this is the reason to your everlasting generosity. sometimes you show compassion to those who do not deserve it. your inner child yearns to ACCEPT itself and the depth it holds within all those petals.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------[ Ken I. ]

tagged by : no one ! 

tagging: @faultyconscience​ , @hcmlock​ , and you !

[proudfrcak]

WRITE A LETTER TO YOUR INNER CHILD + I’LL TELL YOU WHAT FLOWER YOU’VE BLOSSOMED INTO.

a wallflower, quietly standing still

“it takes as much time to build walls sturdy enough for wallflowers like you and me to lean against as it does for us to bloom.” ― ayokunle falomo, thread, this wordweaver must! — you're comfortable with being left alone, yet perhaps there are slivers of empty cracks you wish to fill with joy. staying at the side lines, on the side walk, by the wall... these are all places you are used to being in. you're trying to find a way to grow in other places, farther away from what you've always known. the inner child within seeks to reach further out into the world. perhaps it's scared, has some anxiety, and wishes to cling onto the past... but only time will tell — your beauty is nevertheless a silent and distant sort, lingering.

tagged by @tthehair

[strcngergirls]

What Flower Have You Blossomed Into?

a wallflower, quietly standing still

“it takes as much time to build walls sturdy enough for wallflowers like you and me to lean against as it does for us to bloom.” ― ayokunle falomo, thread, this wordweaver must! — you're comfortable with being left alone, yet perhaps there are slivers of empty cracks you wish to fill with joy. staying at the side lines, on the side walk, by the wall... these are all places you are used to being in. you're trying to find a way to grow in other places, farther away from what you've always known. the inner child within seeks to reach further out into the world. perhaps it's scared, has some anxiety, and wishes to cling onto the past... but only time will tell — your beauty is nevertheless a silent and distant sort, lingering.

[wsstandsfor]

write a letter to your inner child + i'll tell you what flower you've blossomed into a wallflower, quietly standing still

“it takes as much time to build walls sturdy enough for wallflowers like you and me to lean against as it does for us to bloom.” ― ayokunle falomo, thread, this wordweaver must! — you're comfortable with being left alone, yet perhaps there are slivers of empty cracks you wish to fill with joy. staying at the side lines, on the side walk, by the wall... these are all places you are used to being in. you're trying to find a way to grow in other places, farther away from what you've always known. the inner child within seeks to reach further out into the world. perhaps it's scared, has some anxiety, and wishes to cling onto the past... but only time will tell — your beauty is nevertheless a silent and distant sort, lingering.

[samwellwinchesterthebrave]

As promised, here's all 30 days of my NaNoWriMo poetry for 2022. Under a readmore for length

Day 1

Millions of years ago, in a different world,

Unique creatures lived and thrived.

They ruled the seas, the skies, the land.

None knew how quickly their end would come.

For eons, dinosaurs walked where we do now.

They adapted to changing climates,

Marching through whole eras of prehistory.

Until a massive comet ended their reign.

Now we study their fossilized bones and tissues,

Clues and details hidden securely in rock and dirt.

We live among their winged descendents,

Fascinated by and learning about these lost animals.

Day 2

I open my eyes and they appear.

I close them and they are still there.

Haunting all of my nightmares, all night.

They are never away from my sight.

They follow me in total silence,

I fear when they turn to violence.

Their black eyes are cold and inhuman,

No light within them does illumine.

I awaken, desperate and chilled

As a thread of hope begins to build.

Have I fled my tormentors again?

Or have they now found my waking plane?

Day 3

The feel of soft skin warming with desire

As breath, so hot and sweet, tickles my ear.

You whisper words of need that light a fire,

The ultimate path of our yearnings clear.

You rise, delighted, to my hungry touch.

Our passion and our pleasure heated grows,

Fanned fierce as to one another we clutch.

All thought abandoned in our wanton throes.

Now finally joined in mutual bliss,

One body to one body, lips to lips,

We chase our climax as frantic we kiss,

Your fingers bruisingly tight on my hips.

Here now, ecstasy, in tandem we fly

As your name bursts from my lips in a cry.

Day 4

Infinite blackness

Filled with dots of light and life

Beautiful and strange

Day 5

The storm rages above,

Cold, wild, and ruthless.

Light and sound crashing,

In waves of titanic fury.

Rain beats down in sheets,

Pelting, stinging, and soaking.

Lightning streaks in blue white,

A deadly dance of fire.

Thunder speaks in myriad voices,

Cracking, roaring, and deafening.

Drowning out prayers and cries

With careless indifference.

And yet, and yet, I exult in it,

Thrilling, beautiful, and awesome.

A natural spectacle come to life,

Wonderful and terrifying.

Day 6

Go further, get ahead,

Find you've circled right

Around to the beginning.

An ouroboros of a task,

Never completed, no rest,

No peace, never done.

And yet, plod on, unceasing,

Hoping against tired hope

For a different outcome.

Day 7

Sound ceases slowly

As silence pervades the air

Soft, enveloping

Day 8 (Dive)

Slip under the cool water

Dive into shadowed depths

Past fish, coral, and rocks

Down where no light reaches

Find life that only exists

In crushing pressure and cold

Dive ever further and find

An alien world under our own

Day 9 (Amber Owl)

Silent stalker of the night,

Amber winged and eyed,

Searching for the next meal.

Hunker down and hide,

Still, small, terrified,

Hoping not to be that meal.

An owl floats with deadly grace,

Focused, intense, hungry,

Waiting for the perfect moment

To strike.

Day 10

A skirl of bright notes in the air

As partners order, pair by pair.

They dip and sway with lovely grace

While stirring music fills the place.

A crescendo leads to the end,

Curtsies offered with a smooth bend.

Hands are offered for the next dance

While wallflowers giggle and glance.

More notes as the next song begins,

Skirts fluttering through buoyant spins.

And so the joy continues on,

Music and laughter all night long.

Day 11

Your touch

On my skin

A gasp

As pleasure builds

So close

Body to body

Wrapped inside

Our own reality

Day 12

The march of seasons

Turning of the year, ceaseless,

An unbroken wheel

Day 13 (Stardew Valley)

A sweet pastoral setting,

Bringing an old farm

Back to life.

Getting to know townsfolk,

Romance blooming

Among small town life.

Fight monsters in mines,

Look for artifacts,

Find gems and minerals.

Follow the seasons' cycles,

Day by day by day,

Satisfied and at peace.

Day 14

Effortless communication

Over such long distances.

Seeing others face to face,

Hundreds of miles away.

Hearing their voices,

Laughing and sharing,

Crying and consoling,

Connected through screens

Day 15

Absolute zero approaches

As movement and heat

Fades and fades away.

Energy breaks down and

Releases all its potential

To become its minimal state.

It is the eventual fate

Of the entire universe,

To rest in cold and silence.

Day 16 (Timelost)

Lost in time, seconds tick.

Continue in the task.

Mind consumed, minutes pass,

Until the night is half gone.

Look up, dazed, unfocused,

How could it be so late?

But the task calls again.

Time to get lost once more.

Day 17

A sea of people

Lost to the pounding music

Motion and feeling

Day 18 (Dovahkiin)

The roar of the first dragon

Is so familiar even as it's alien.

Running from the fierce fires,

Escaping your own execution.

It starts a whole new life,

As a savior, you never asked for.

Absorbing dragon souls

To learn the secrets of the dov.

The world rests on your shoulders,

Even among the races' infighting.

Only you can defeat this evil

And stop the World-Eater for all.

Day 19

Trapped in darkness,

Lost, lost, lost, lost.

No way out

No way through.

Head down, keep trudging.

Stillness equals death.

Too stubborn to die.

Are those familiar footprints?

Lost, lost, lost, lost.

Disjointed circling.

Aimless wandering.

Walking still, mechanically.

Mindless beyond hope.

Too stubborn to die.

How long has it been?

Lost, lost, lost, lost.

No name.

No face.

Only a persistent will

To face shadows.

Too stubborn to die.

Oh, it goes on forever.

Lost, lost, lost, lost.

Feet bloodied.

Muscles screaming.

A body begging for release

From this torment.

Too stubborn to die.

Day 20

What if we could dream new things?

What if we lived among Saturn's rings?

What if colors had textures?

What if the stars had gestures?

What if everything was far away?

What if rabbits said neigh?

What if water gathered in bubbles?

What if we had no more troubles?

The world would be a funhouse mirror,

A whole new universe made clearer.

Day 21 (Pain)

It starts as a warning

Prickles in the temple.

A slowly building intensity

As pain blossoms.

Before long, it takes over,

Spreading ever further.

It encompasses everything

And pain is existence.

Day 22

Unending reaches

Massive and mysterious

Beautiful wonder

Day 23

A hesitant reaching out,

Looking for connection.

Fingers on the planchette,

Letters ready on the board.

Is anyone there? Anyone listening?

Wait with baited breath,

Bodies tense and eyes sharp,

To see if the board answers.

Voices from beyond the grave,

Holding knowledge we don't.

Dare we bother what lies beyond

With pokes and prods from the living?

Day 24 (Thankful)

For family

For friends

For continuing health

For pets

For imagination

For wonder

For space

For the ocean

For possibilities

For the future

All these and more

I am thankful for

Day 25

The end approaches

Fall making way for winter

Cold and ice to come

Day 26

Falling

Every downward

Further

Past roots

Down

Into depths

Unknown

Falling

Faster now

Tumbling

Into mystery

Breathless

With fear

Shaking

Falling

Without end

Lost

Without sight

Forgotten

Without touch

Disappearing

Day 27

I lie under this stone,

Gone from friends and family.

I seek what lies beyond,

Filled with wonder and thrill.

Day 28

The end approaches

For all struggle to be done

It's time to rest now

Day 29 (Coffee)

Rich, aromatic, delicious

A morning wake up call.

Whether strong and bold

Or mild and light

Coffee is a lovely drink.

It helps tie friends together

Or helps the first steps

Of a new relationship.

It is versatile in flavor,

Changing as desired.

Day 30

The end has come.

There goes the sun.

It all falls down.

Deep under the ground.

Now it all rots.

Covered in mold spots.

No longer any hope.

Just a swinging rope.

So now say goodbye.

Heave a final sigh.

[bohgboy]

𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄  𝐀  𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑  𝐓𝐎  𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑  𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑  𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃

—  a  wallflower,  quietly  standing  still .

“it  takes  as  much  time  to  build  walls  sturdy  enough  for  wallflowers  like  you  and  me  to  lean  against  as  it  does  for  us  to  bloom.”  ―  ayokunle  falomo,  thread,  this  wordweaver  must!  —  you're  comfortable  with  being  left  alone,  yet  perhaps  there  are  slivers  of  empty  cracks  you  wish  to  fill  with  joy.  staying  at  the  side  lines,  on  the  side  walk,  by  the  wall...  these  are  all  places  you  are  used  to  being  in.  you're  trying  to  find  a  way  to  grow  in  other  places,  farther  away  from  what  you've  always  known.  the  inner  child  within  seeks  to  reach  further  out  into  the  world.  perhaps  it's  scared,  has  some  anxiety,  and  wishes  to  cling  onto  the  past...  but  only  time  will  tell  —  your  beauty  is  nevertheless  a  silent  and  distant  sort,  lingering.

tagged  by :    nada tagging :   you  babe  ♡

[lukef]

wallflower, blooming

�� @croupiex

the evening nears when luke is finally finished with work. it’s a friday, it’s roughly around nine pm and he hasn’t really eaten anything hot or warm yet. but the long day has left his traces on him and his mood and he decides that he’ll simply go to a bar or a restaurant to eat something before finally going home and getting a good sleep. he’s not interested in drinking, he’s learned his lessons with alcohol again and again in the past years, some good food will do it for now. the sun has long went down and he enjoys the warm breeze of the summer night on his skin. 

his feet lead him to a bar he’s been at before, the food they serve is good (their drinks are questionable, but he’s not there for that reason anyway - so why not have some nice soup or fresh vegetables?) and it’s not that far away from his apartment, meaning the way home won’t be long either. he’s not planning on staying for long, given he’s tired (or rather almost completely knocked out) from work. 

when he enters the bar he’s greeted by stuffy air and the smell of beer and other types of alcohol, but also some sort of smell that makes water collect in his mouth - fresh bread, parsley, all the good stuff.

the elementalist decides to sit down at a table and he’s lucky, there’s one below one of the open windows. a moth swirls around his head for a second, but he’s able to shoo it away with his hand. while he looks through the menu, someone else catches his attention. and if he would have known what he had to expect in said bar, maybe he never would have entered it. 

the barkeeper catches his gaze and greets him when he stands up, but she’s greeted by a serious and concerned look. there’s a guy sitting at the bar and he’s swaying slightly, given he’s noticeably drunk, that’s  not a big surprise. the thing is, luke would recognize that face and hair everywhere.

“cassius?”

[nexfarious]

A DANCE? — TSUMUGI SHIROGANE

pairing — tsumugi shirogane/gn!reader.

content — non-despair au, fluff, dancing, hand holding, a singular (1) hand kiss.

notes — not a request but entirely my own brainrot. for the women lovers out there!

Tsumugi understates herself, but to you? She is the most beautiful person in the room.

She is absolutely enthralling as you watch her spin across the room, the ruffles of her dress swaying in time with the motions she dances with her fellow classmates - it’s a little awkward, unpracticed and unconfident, but something about the way she even manages to make her stumbling graceful is appealing.

From your position at the drinks table, you pour a glass of something sweet, not pausing for a moment to take your eyes off her. Wallflowering yourself to the tables has its benefits, as you can tether yourself to a spot and spectate.

The dress she wears is long, just like her daily uniform. You presume she created it herself by the meticulous way in which it has been crafted. You can picture it; Tsumugi sitting at the sewing machine, embellishing it with the utmost care, each individual thread carefully stitched as though it were a matter of life or death. Even the thoughtful expression she would wear as she pondered what the colour scheme she was to wear was a perfect picture frame in your mind.

As she socialises with her other classmates, you page each expression she makes like you’re pressing flowers into a book. The way she smiles awkwardly at Shuichi, neither of them able to take the lead in their dance as they interlock hands, or the way she falls into step with Rantaro as he leads her across the room in a friendly manner as he makes casual conversation with her. She may call herself plain, but you find the predictability comforting amongst your eccentric classmates.

It’s too warm all of a sudden, a dizzying and cloying feeling the more you look at Tsumugi who absolutely dazzles you. You watch her gaze flitter around the dance floor, searching for something - you’re not sure what it is, but you feel the need to step forward and help her search, direct her towards what she’s looking for.

Then she spots you.

You’re not much, just the nicest outfit you owned from your array of clothing but it’s apparently enough for Tsumugi, as you watch her perk up and practically sparkle as she untangled herself from a corroboration of dancers. She strides over, a little uneasy as she flashes you a bashful smile - you could just melt at the way her cheeks upturn.

“Y/N! You… you’re here,” she says, slightly breathless from the strenuous activity that is dancing.

Unsure of what to say, you smile back. “I- Yeah. It’s nice, Kaede and Kaito did really well with the place.”

“Well, for a plain Jane like me, this is a dream come true…” she steps closer and you catch the scent of perfume, was that vanilla? “I still wish they would’ve let me cosplay - Cinderella could have been perfect for an elegant party!”

You watch as the excitement blooms once more as she settles into familiar topics, things you have heard a million times but because it’s Tsumugi, she could tell you a million more and it would still would never be enough.

“I think you look wonderful, even if you’re not cosplaying,” you tell her honestly. She blushes bright red for just a moment, covering her face in embarrassment. You commit the expression to memory once more, to be visited on the worst of nights.

“Someone like me? What about Kaede, or Miu? Everyone’s looking at them.” she quizzes, half curious and half introspective.

It’s true, to a certain extent. Both girls are wearing something much flashier as they weave between crowds of students - particularly Miu, with that low cut dress.

“Well… Sure, they both look really nice, but I can see the work that you put into that dress. It’s obvious that you worked really hard on it, and I appreciate that more.” you explain, rubbing the back of your neck nervously.

Tsumugi looks at you with a reverence you’ve never seen before, like you’ve opened up her world and pried something out of her no one else has. Gently, you move to take her hand, giving her ample time to back away or reject your advance. She doesn’t.

“May I have this dance with you?” is what you ask as you lead her back towards everyone else. She nods, unable to form words.

The dance you perform isn’t perfect. Far from it, actually. Both of you stumble and almost crash into someone at least once and you’re ever so slightly out of time with the music.

No one is staring at the both of you in awe at your dancing skills, there’s no spotlight to illuminate your sudden display of skill like in the anime Tsumugi frequents, but that’s what completes it all. You’re in your own pocket of time and space. No one bats an eye as you share this memory between one another and no one notices when you press a kiss to her hand.

It’s plain - just like Tsumugi. A normal dance. It’s complete.