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sialiia · 1 year ago

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• . ° .┊┊ BIOGRAPHY & VERSE INFO;;

ㅤㅤJust a quick little bio/verse dump because I'm just hella-- unmotivated with my carrd because last year I accidentally deleted Sydney's info and hated myself, STILL from doing that. And it's just festered in my mind that I did that. And I just...yeah. Anyways. Here's the quick version of a revised take on her bio. I hope it helps for anyone that needs it! -edit- Plot twist, this is not a small post. I finally wrote out Sydney's bio. So, enjoy! I will copy this to my carrd! posting here so I don't HECKIN LOSE IT THIS TIME! If you have any questions, feel free to ask because I 90% forgot a ton of things... again, feel free to ask about things.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• . ° . 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐒 ;; . ° . • Name: Sydney Carpenter Age: late 20s/early-mid 30s (verse dep) Birthday: November 18th Species: Human Gender: Cis-Female Bloodtype: AB- (sticks neck out to vamps. eyyy) Allergies: Alcohol (she will become physically sick and probs pass out.) Height: 5'4" (162cm) Hair Colour: Brown Eye Colour: Blue Mental Health: Depression, Anxiety, Stockholm.Syndrome & Hybristo.philia Powers/Abilities: Physical Medium Origins: Ontario, Canada Family: Mother/ Lauren Carpenter (fc: Robin.Wright). Step Father/ Craig Holguin (fc: Gabriel.Iglesias). Haven't decided if she has siblings or not. Pets: Pearl (Turquoise Green Cheek Conure) more info on her here [x] Faceclaim: Jessica.Stroup Sexual orientation: Bisexual Romantic orientation: Demiromantic occupations;; (verse dep.) - hunter/researcher of the supernatural *verse exclusive - power ranger (aqua, jetman team)*verse exclusive - employee at ray's occult shop. ft. rcysoccult *thread dependant - employee at sarah's spot. ft. unbearablyindifferent *verse dependant [HEADCANONS TAG] - also any [x] is a link to a specific headcanon.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• . ° . 𝐁𝐈𝐎𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐇𝐘 ;; . ° . • ㅤㅤSydney is originally a Canadian girl but she could live in any place a thread might call for it. (I am also Canadian. So like... write what you know. lmao!) She probably would have grown up in a big city and probably defaulted to Toronto because there's just a ton of potential there. Despite having only been there like.......10 times in my lifetime lol! nonetheless. Nonetheless, she might live in other cities or areas such as the United States or something. But her origins are in Canada. She grew up in a small family home in the city. I haven't decided yet if she has had siblings or not. So bear with me on that. She got fair grades in school and didn't go to any college or university afterward. A long line of women in her family have had the physical medium ability, selecting one child from each generation to be a medium. So Sydney was not alone in her abilities. She had lots of support and wisdom from those who came before her. Sydney does not practise witchcraft, though a lot of people's muses have that assumption. She does not. Though some things she might take some things from witchcraft and other sort of cleansing manners for a couple things she would need to use to take care of any spirits or entities. She usually keeps a chipper attitude despite the dead that plague her. She's kind of a bimbo, to be honest. She doesn't let the spirits dampen her mood and tries to make the best of it. However, that doesn't mean that she doesn't have internal problems such as depression and anxiety, treated with medications. She lives in an apartment and it could be anywhere that a thread could call for it. But it's not the best place. It needs a lot of upkeep and the landlord is very hands-off. Though the rent is cheap... it has its reasons. Thus she tries to make the best of it on the inside- even adding a few extra locks to the door because there's a handful of sketchy people in her building. The apartment resides above a store on the ground floor, they would use a door between stores to get to the main area with mailboxes and stairs going up. There is no elevator. rest in peace to anyone coming over. She lives on the 4th floor of a 7-story building. [x] [x] [x] A bit down the line timeline-wise, she will develop a heart problem and respiratory problems. Actually having her been diagnosed with them. But pre-diagnosis she will start to have problems and it progressively gets worse. A lot of real-life mediums have problems with their health throughout their lives. So, only fitting I put my muse through pain. Probably would seek treatment of some kind.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• . ° . 𝐏𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐒 & 𝐀𝐁𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ;; . ° . • ㅤㅤSydney is a physical medium, meaning she can communicate with the dead or anything really on the other side. That being demons, elementals, gods, angels, shadow people, ghosts, spirits, elementals, etc. She can hear, feel, sense, and see them. She can also see and feel the energies of those around her if she gets bad vibes from them or positive. Sometimes these beings will make her physically ill being in their presence. They can also tell her things about people that they might otherwise not what known. Sometimes spirits want to talk, sometimes they don't. Sometimes they can be absolute heathens and make her life hell. I take my main lore for the dead from the show "Dead Files" and "Ghost Adventures." but also sprinkle in some other paranormal shows because I personally just love watching them. Lastly would be Supernatural since the lore of the show is a bit different than what is considered to be "real-life lore." They have their own lore when it comes to spirits. For instance, in the supernatural verse; Sydney is able to see demons, angels, and anything else that the otherwise human eyes cannot see, or if a being is only making another person see them, Sydney is also able to see/hear/feel them.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• . ° . 𝐇𝐎𝐁𝐁𝐈𝐄𝐒 ;; . ° . • ㅤㅤSydney likes to draw, because write what you know. She also enjoys researching and writing about cryptids in her spare time. She knows a fair bit about spirits and entities, so she's your go-to girl about that. She also has an interest in sasquatch and deep sea cryptids to add to her favourite cryptids list. Sydney also enjoys urban exploring in old buildings and partake in photography of such places. She does wear a respirator when doing so because you don't know what's in those buildings. Besides some creepy things, she also loves to bake and cook, trying new recipes is always a challenge and exciting for her. She will gladly give her friends away baked goods even when they haven't asked for it. She just likes to make people smile through food.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ• . ° . 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 ;; . ° . •

VERSE 1;; Default/Undecided/Catch All ㅤㅤBasically everything above, in a verse. No specific verse, a verse for having not decided yet. Or I simply forget what verse a thread is in! VERSE 2;; Super.natural ㅤㅤIn this verse, basically the bio and such takes place, but Sydney will help hunters on cases. Though she isn't confident herself with hunting, often looking for any other potential ways for a case to turn out that doesn't involve murdering everything. But alas, sometimes unaliving spooky things in the way to go in this series lol. VERSE 3;; Twilight / Vampire.Diaries / Vampire.Academy/etc. ㅤㅤThis verse could go either way, Sydney is either a human interacting with characters from said series, or she could be turned into a vampire. Her mediumship gets stronger post-transformation. She is torn on feeding on humans or animals. Probably ultimately opts for the latter. But gimme moments where she slips and attacks humans. In the vampire.academy verse, she is a feeder for vampires uwu VERSE 4;; Zombie Apocalypse ㅤㅤIn this verse, before the apocalypse- probably the walking.dead verse. Sydney takes a trip down to the united states and ultimately gets trapped there due to the breakout. She has no way back home to her family or her pet pearl. She doesn't know how they faired in the apocalypse. Though because she is able to see/speak with the dead, she doesn't have her family come through until a few years into said apocalypse. Because she is medicated for depression and anxiety, she does struggle for the first while after she runs out of her medication due to withdrawal and suffers through symptoms plus the dead trying to come to her. Which has dramatically increased since the start of the apocalypse. So, she does have to deal with that as well. She is not a fighter, she rather stay in the safe zones and help the community from the inside. I imagine she would eventually not survive the apocalypse. In twd side of this verse, she resides at Hilltop- I watched until hilltop burned, around that area... So, not too sure about after that. Also, she is terrified of Negan :') VERSE 5;; Superheroes ㅤㅤSince Power.Rangers/Super.Sentai has done crossovers with Marvel and DC comics before, they have been owned by Dis.ney who owns Marvel now, it makes sense to make my superhero verse the Westernized version of Choujin.Sentai.Jetman. More verse info here: [x] On the same note, she is not a physical medium in this verse unless it is a crossover with another verse for a specific thread. VERSE 6;; Anime/Cartoon ㅤㅤWould basically be the same thing as verse 1, however I use these images instead.

VERSE 7;; Fantasy Worlds ㅤㅤI haven't really used this verse as of yet, except maybe one thread really early on. So I will probably scrap and replace it with something else. But if you are interested! Sydney is a fairy/pixie, For convenience, she is able to shrink herself to a small size, or make herself 5'4. VERSE 8;; The Nevers ㅤㅤIn this verse, Sydney is in 1899, Victorian London. She travelled to London with her family during a business trip when the Event happened. Leading her to see, hear and sense the dead/spiritual beings. She stays with the rest of the touched instead of returning back to America, realizing this is a huge opportunity for her.

VERSE 8;; Skill Swap ㅤㅤIn this verse, Sydney has the ability of hydrokinesis instead of being a physical medium. Hydrokinesis is one of my favourite powers in shows and literature. Being indecisive has led me to make this verse! In this verse, Sydney can control and manipulate water and its sub-elements such as snow, ice, slush, etc. She can't control blood or any other bodily fluids... that she knows of. Willing to explore that omg.

#:x: aww yeah! character development time! ( headcanons )#// i guess i put this into hc tag???#// LOOK AT MEEE. I FINALLY DID IT. I RE-WROTE HER BIOOOO

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newscanada · 4 months ago

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Canada Bicycle Jersey: The Ultimate Guide to Choosing the Best Cycling Apparel

Cycling in Canada is more than just a pastime; it’s a lifestyle. Whether you’re riding through the urban streets of Toronto or the rugged terrains of British Columbia, having the right cycling apparel is crucial. The Canada bicycle jersey is not just a piece of clothing; it represents a symbol of national pride, comfort, and performance. In this guide, we delve into what makes a bicycle jersey perfect for Canadian cyclists, covering everything from materials and design to the best brands and how to care for your jersey.

Why a Canada Bicycle Jersey is Essential for Every Cyclist

A Canada bicycle jersey is more than just a visual statement; it’s designed with performance in mind. These jerseys are tailored to meet the demands of Canadian weather conditions, ensuring that you remain comfortable whether you're cycling in summer heat or autumn chill. The unique combination of materials and designs makes these jerseys stand out in terms of functionality and style.

Material Matters: What to Look for in a Cycling Jersey

When it comes to choosing the best Canada bicycle jersey, the material is a critical factor. The right fabric can make a significant difference in your cycling experience. Here’s what to consider:

Breathability: A good cycling jersey should be made from breathable fabric that wicks moisture away from your skin. This is especially important during long rides when sweat can build up, causing discomfort.

Durability: Canadian weather can be unpredictable, and so can the terrains. You need a jersey that can withstand various conditions without wearing out. Look for materials like polyester blends that offer both durability and flexibility.

UV Protection: Many modern jerseys come with built-in UV protection, shielding your skin from harmful rays during those long summer rides. This feature is especially important in Canada, where UV levels can be quite high.

Design Elements: What Makes a Canada Bicycle Jersey Stand Out

The design of a Canada bicycle jersey is not just about aesthetics; it’s about functionality. Here are some design features to consider:

Aerodynamics: A well-designed jersey should offer minimal air resistance. This is achieved through a snug fit that reduces drag, allowing you to cycle faster with less effort.

Pockets: Practicality is key when choosing a cycling jersey. Look for jerseys with multiple pockets, allowing you to store essentials like energy gels, a smartphone, or even a small repair kit.

Zippers: The type and length of the zipper can affect both comfort and aerodynamics. Full-length zippers offer versatility, allowing you to adjust ventilation during your ride.

Best Brands for Canada Bicycle Jerseys

When it comes to cycling apparel, several brands have earned a reputation for quality and performance. Here are some of the top brands to consider when shopping for a Canada bicycle jersey:

Louis Garneau: A Canadian brand known for its high-quality cycling apparel, Louis Garneau offers a range of jerseys that combine style, comfort, and performance. Their jerseys are particularly popular for their excellent fit and durable materials.

Sugoi: Another Canadian brand, Sugoi specializes in creating cycling gear that can withstand the diverse Canadian climate. Their jerseys are known for their moisture-wicking properties and stylish designs.

Pearl Izumi: While not a Canadian brand, Pearl Izumi offers a range of jerseys that are perfect for Canadian cyclists. Their jerseys are known for their excellent breathability and comfort, making them ideal for long rides.

How to Care for Your Canada Bicycle Jersey

To ensure that your Canada bicycle jersey lasts for years to come, proper care is essential. Here’s how to maintain your jersey:

Washing: Always wash your jersey in cold water with a mild detergent. Avoid using fabric softeners, as they can clog the pores of the fabric, reducing breathability.

Drying: Air-drying is the best way to preserve the integrity of the fabric. Avoid using a dryer, as the heat can damage the material and cause the colors to fade.

Storage: Store your jersey in a cool, dry place. Avoid leaving it in direct sunlight for extended periods, as UV rays can weaken the fabric and cause discoloration.

Tips for Choosing the Right Size

Choosing the right size for your Canada bicycle jersey is crucial for comfort and performance. Here are some tips to help you find the perfect fit:

Measure Your Chest: Use a measuring tape to measure the widest part of your chest. This measurement will help you choose the right size according to the brand’s sizing chart.

Consider the Fit: Cycling jerseys typically come in two fits: race fit and club fit. Race fit is snug and aerodynamic, while club fit is slightly looser and more comfortable for casual rides.

Try Before You Buy: If possible, try on the jersey before purchasing. This will give you a better idea of how it feels and whether it offers the comfort and mobility you need.

Why a Canada Bicycle Jersey is a Great Investment

Investing in a high-quality Canada bicycle jersey is a decision you won’t regret. Not only does it enhance your cycling experience by offering comfort and performance, but it also allows you to express your love for Canada. With the right jersey, you can tackle any terrain with confidence, knowing that you’re wearing the best gear for the job.

Whether you’re a seasoned cyclist or just starting, the Canada bicycle jersey is an essential piece of gear that can make all the difference in your rides. From its breathable materials to its practical design, every element is crafted to meet the demands of Canadian cyclists. So, gear up and ride with pride, knowing that you’re wearing the best cycling apparel Canada has to offer.

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neotonutrition · 7 months ago

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From Bubble Tea to Protein Powerhouse: Boba's Evolution in the Canadian Market

Bubble tea, also known as boba tea, has long been a beloved beverage, especially among younger generations. Originating from Taiwan, this sweet, refreshing drink typically consists of tea, milk, and chewy tapioca pearls, also known as boba. Over the past decade, bubble tea protein has taken the Canadian market by storm, with countless shops popping up in cities across the country. However, the evolution of boba doesn't stop at just a fun, sugary drink. In recent years, boba has transformed into a versatile ingredient in the wellness industry, including its integration into protein shakes and health-focused beverages. Let’s explore how boba has evolved from a delightful tea drink to a protein powerhouse in the Canadian market.

The Rise of Bubble Tea in Canada

Bubble tea first appeared in Canada in the early 2000s, quickly gaining popularity among diverse demographic groups. Its unique combination of flavors and textures, along with the customizable options for tea base, sweetness level, and toppings, made it a hit.

Factors Contributing to Bubble Tea’s Popularity:

Cultural Appeal: With Canada's diverse population, bubble tea’s Asian origins resonated with many, and its novelty attracted others.

Variety: The endless customization options—from different types of tea (green, black, oolong) to various milk choices (dairy, almond, soy)—allowed customers to personalize their drinks.

Social Media Influence: Bubble tea’s visually appealing presentation, with colorful layers and fun toppings, makes it a favorite subject for social media posts, driving its popularity among younger audiences.

Boba Goes Beyond Tea: The Wellness Wave

As health and wellness trends gained momentum, consumers started seeking healthier alternatives to their favorite treats, including bubble tea. This shift in consumer behavior opened doors for innovation, leading to the integration of boba into health-oriented beverages such as protein shakes and smoothies.

Health and Wellness Trends Driving Boba's Evolution:

Protein Powders and Shakes: With the rise of the fitness and wellness culture, protein powders have become a staple in many diets. Innovators in the beverage industry began incorporating boba into protein shakes, combining the fun, chewy texture of tapioca pearls with the nutritional benefits of protein.

Natural and Organic Ingredients: As consumers became more health-conscious, the demand for natural and organic ingredients grew. Boba manufacturers responded by offering tapioca pearls made from natural sweeteners and organic ingredients.

Functional Beverages: Functional beverages that offer added health benefits, such as enhanced nutrition, energy boosts, or improved digestion, became popular. Boba's addition to these drinks provided not only a unique texture but also an enjoyable way to consume nutritional supplements.

Boba Protein Shakes: A New Favorite

The fusion of boba and protein shakes has created a new favorite among health enthusiasts and foodies alike. These drinks offer the best of both worlds—delicious flavor and texture combined with nutritional benefits.

Key Benefits of Boba Protein Shakes:

Enhanced Satiety: The combination of protein and boba makes for a satisfying and filling beverage, perfect for post-workout recovery or as a meal replacement.

Customizable Nutrition: Just like traditional bubble tea, boba protein shakes can be customized with various protein powders (whey, soy, pea), milk options, and additional nutritional supplements.

Fun and Enjoyable: The chewy texture of boba adds an element of fun to protein shakes, making them more enjoyable to consume, especially for those who find regular protein shakes bland.

Market Trends and Consumer Preferences

The Canadian market has seen a growing number of cafes and health food stores offering boba protein shakes. This trend aligns with the broader movement towards personalized nutrition and functional foods.

Emerging Trends in the Canadian Market:

Hybrid Cafes: Establishments that started as traditional bubble tea shops are expanding their menus to include health-oriented beverages, including boba protein shakes. These hybrid cafes cater to a wider audience by offering both indulgent treats and nutritious options.

DIY Boba Kits: Capitalizing on the popularity of home-based health and fitness routines, some companies are offering DIY boba protein shake kits. These kits allow consumers to create their customized protein shakes with boba at home.

Collaborations with Fitness Brands: Partnerships between bubble tea brands and fitness companies are emerging, promoting boba protein shakes as a part of a balanced diet and active lifestyle.

Boba’s journey from a popular tea drink to a versatile ingredient in the wellness industry highlights its adaptability and appeal. In 2024, the Canadian market continues to embrace this evolution, with boba protein shakes emerging as a favorite among health-conscious consumers. If you’re craving something refreshing and healthy, consider reaching for a boba protein shake from the best health supplement store Canada. Whether you're a fitness enthusiast looking for a fun way to enjoy your protein or a foodie exploring new trends, boba protein shakes offer a delightful and nutritious option.

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snellblogs · 1 year ago

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Canada Road 5

AUGUST 23

Between Goderich and Kincardine,

Lake Huron

Great Lakes

Ontario

Can’t see the Sunset for cloud

Today we had rain and thunder storms. The lake was completely calm early this morning in fact it was the flattest I have ever seen it and I thought ah, I will be able to swim today. But first I sat down to meditate by the lake, using a red plastic chair, sheltered under an awning and fellow swimmer swam out so far he was just a dot on the lake. Then the slight drizzle got more intense and as he left the lakeside the rain began in earnest. First heavy and then in a trice torrential and although I tried to stay and meditate, the rain was coming in so I moved farther back. Then as it poured a drip began from the awning right onto my head and my hood was rapidly wet, so I gave up and took the path back up to the cottage and went and meditated peacefully in my room.

Later that morning watching the thunder that rolled in and counting the seconds between lightning and thunder I saw white lightning strike the lake at the horizon straight from the thunder clouds. I wouldn’t have missed it. Lightning on Lake Huron!

The fields were drenched.

Next day:

It’s raining on Lake Huron. The washing and swimsuits and towels on the line strung between two huge pine trees is not getting any drier.

Its evening now and yesterday I achieved a best: I won my first ever game of five pin bowling. I beat everyone, much to everyone’s amazement. It was simply a great feeling to be the best at something, no matter how insignificant or how transitory. It was a laugh. I just remembered my Dad bowling beautifully almost making it graceful and tried to follow suit and it seemed to work somehow.

Then I went to see a piece of wonderful Canadian theatre at a very small place called Blyth which when it is not performing outdoors performs in the local town hall which looks like a museum or church or a cross between, a beautiful piece of architecture.

Today’s swim was good, the water is fresh but manageable, but I was able to swim up and down without being knocked over by the waves or swept off my feet by the current. It takes some time to get used to swimming on one of the Great Lakes.

Today I went for a walk up the dirt road that leads in here through farmer’s fields that stretch for as far as you can see on either side. They grow vegetable crops but without hedges or fences just a bunch of trees might signify the end of one field. Either side of the track are a wide selection of beautiful summer flowers. We collected one of each kind only. There was the golden rod and the meadowsweet, black- eyed-susan, toadflax, vetch, purple thistle, pink clover, scabious and a blue flower and a shaking grass. They were in the most beautiful clumps almost painted on and in such delicacy. So much colour.

The sun is hiding tonight but the lake is flat with no waves.

#Goderich #Lake Huron #Swimming in Lake Huron

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soupthatistohot · 3 years ago

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Sk8 headcannons because brainrot pt. 6

- Langa learned how to make his own Canadian poutine, and it’s one of the few recipes that he has mastered since coming to Okinawa

- Kaoru cut his hair off in a fit of anger right after high school, but his hair always grew quick fast so he was back to his desired length within a few years (it was soon after this that he mellowed out, started his buisiness, and re-evaluated some of his life)

- Oka has an impeccable gaydar and knew the exact moment that he saw Reki and Langa being all chummy together that they were gonna end up being a couple

- Miya’s first RPG game was Pokémon Pearl, he bought it used from a store when he was five years old.

- I said in a previous post that Kojiro was a pokémon kid... so when he finds out that Miya also likes pokémon....

- when Reki and Langa go to Canada together for the first time, Reki will not admit that he is cold, even when he’s visibly shivering violently.

- Kojiro’s nickname of “Joe” came about when he went to Italy. He adopted a more westernized name when he was there to make interactions with people easier.

- whenever Langa gets hot, he lifts the hair at the base of his neck up to try to cool down a little

- when Reki and Langa start dating, Reki still calls Langa "dude" and "bro" but there's also some pet names mixed in there.

- Kojiro is shirtless around Kaoru as much as possible for two reasons, 1) because it pisses him off 2) because he likes showing off (and little does he know Kaoru is only pissed off because he has a hard time not staring too much)

- and when I say as much as possible, I mean as much as possible. Kojiro doesn't do it at Sia, even after hours, just because that's his place of work, but virtually anywhere else somewhat private is fair game. Especially Kojiro's apartment. He'll cook them late-night dinners sometimes after "S" (because Kaoru demands food) and he will cook shirtless with only a pair of sweatpants on Kaoru will bicker about it with him until the food is done

- Miya and Reki eventually bond over having friends that left them alone, it's late one night at "S" when they get on the conversation topic somehow, and both are kinda tired so they just sit and talk about it while the others are racing. For Miya it's really therapeutic since he's never had anyone to talk about it with, and Reki's just happy the kid opened up to him a bit. After, he ruffles his hair and they get to bickering and teasing by the time the others get back.

- Langa knows how to ice skate decently well, living in a cold climate and all. This also means he knows how to rollerblade.

- Both Kojiro and Kaoru suck at rollerskating/rollerblading. They go together one evening as teens thinking that the other will fail royally and that they'll be fine, but they both end up sucking and falling all over each other. This may or may not have contributed to Kojiro's bi awakening.

- Miya likes bubble tea, Reki is impartial, and Langa doesn't like it. He can't stand the tapioka's consistency.

- Reki played Minecraft when it was popular, though he wasn't particularly good at survival mode. It was still fun though, he always tried to tame as many wolves as possible and mourned every one of his dog's deaths.

- Langa keeps his apartment key on a lanyard, it'd get lost otherwise (something he found out the hard way when he was in middle school)

- Reki has one of those really disorganized wallets that's just absolutely stuffed to the brim with random coupons. He has a rewards card for, like, every single local store, too.

- Kojiro cracks his knuckles (and various other bones) and it pisses Kaoru the hell off. He knows the "you'll get arthritis" argument has no basis in science, but he uses it anyway. Sometimes it gets them talking about how they'll still be bothering each other in old age, and neither of them will admit the fact that they're kind of happy that they think they're going to stick around for the other's entire life

- there's a lot of mutual pining for adult matchablossom, but highschool? That shit's complicated.

- like Kojiro probably had a big fat crush on Kaoru, but he thought he was straight so he was completely unaware of it

- meanwhile Kaoru had a thing for Kojiro, then he fell head over heels for Adam, and sometime after Adam left the picture his interest in Kojiro resurfaced (just in time for him to go to Italy!)

- Miya had a bowl cut at one point in time. He hated it.

- Reki thought "your mom" jokes were funny in elementary school

- Kojiro thought "your mom" jokes were funny in high school

- Kaoru despised "your mom" jokes.

- Shadow was really mild-mannered in high school, he was always the teacher's pet even if his grades weren't the best. He was always good at science, especially biology and Earth science. He started college but dropped out because of financial issues.

- Kaoru totally thought about dying his hair black in high school, but Kojiro talked him out of it, and probably inadvertently complimented his hair in the process of doing so (and that's why Kaoru didn't change it).

- Reki LOVES snapchat filters, and only has the app for that reason. He does not send or recieve snaps, and has no friends on it. Reki always ropes Langa into taking selfies with him with the filters on, and Langa couldn't care less but thinks its nice to have some cute pictures with Reki.

- Miya goes to Reki's house once and lets Koyomi put nail polish on his fingers. He doesn't hate it.

- Reki's mom also offers to feed Miya a meal that is definitely not on his athlete diet, but he feels like he can't refuse the woman, so he just cheats for the night and enjoys his dinner.

- Reki's mom can tell that her son just totally adopted this sassy middle schooler as a younger brother and thinks it's the absolute sweetest thing in the world

- Kaoru started wearing yukatas when he made his calligraphy business, and found that they were actually quite comfortable, so he wore them in his daily life too.

- Langa has done shots of hot sauce at Reki's and Miya's insistence

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joessmoncler · 2 years ago

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event in a monogrammed zip-up Moncler Sale windbreaker by the label

At Louis Vuitton's menswear fall 2022 show earlier this month, Venus Williams hit up the event in a monogrammed zip-up Moncler Sale windbreaker by the label. In New York we declared the suit was back, but after today in Milan it's a lock. Another designer could spend a year making the patchwork coat just sort of tossed over a bubble repp stripe midiskirt. The smallest plan offers basic closet access to more casual styles valued up to $300 and one shipment per month. Additionally, Cohen redoubled his efforts around sustainability. If I'm not mistaken, whoever first said can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em, was referring to their SO, but I would argue that the saying rings just as true in regards to a certain undergarment: bras.

At for fall 2021, Hedi Slimane showed hunter green windbreakers that made me think of Princess Diana back in the 1980s, when she wore a classic Barbour style in the same hue. The fashion-forward affair was first in the line of various upcoming summer music events, including Canadian festivals Osheaga and Veld. We're eyeing flag touches on backs of denim jackets for both men and women. The collection also includes some covetable pieces that take inspiration from classic American style too. When we Moncler Woman Jackets met for coffee on New York's Lower East Side-between stores like Bode, Cafe Forgot, and adjacent to the highly curated vintage emporium James Veloria, each of which represents the city's new style-Prost appeared like a vision in almost a dozen clashing and ethereal layers: vintage floral jeans worn under a pleated wool skirt inspired by my look at , a tie-neck blouse and crochet vest underneath a Collina Strada pink hoodie, and a long strand of pearls.

The unique design concept is derived from the iconic 1951 Ferragamo Kimo sandal, with its woven bucket and lightweight leather construction. Magugu never had the chance to meet Elbaz in person, but he was acquainted with his work growing up in Johannesburg. With so many jobs in the fashion industry, it's no surprise that he has killer personal style to boot. First released as a two toned leather bag, it's now available in a rainbow of solid colors with mini and full size options. For fall 2022 they teamed up with Melbourne artist Lara Merrett, an abstract colorist whose saturated surfaces translated powerfully from canvas to cloth.

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fragileizywriting · 3 years ago

Text

C'est la Sea

pairing: Luka / Marinette word count: 9,111 chapter: 1/2 rating: E summary: There’s a mermaid in his bed. A pouty, pretty mermaid on his bed. “Why are you wrapped up like a sushi roll, sweetheart?” “It’s cold,” Marinette shivers, just to prove her point. She collects an edge of the blanket to cover herself back up and make a bigger mess out of the covers, trying to tuck in her tail. “Why is it colder on land than it is on sea? How are you able to withstand this much frost, Luka? Even my scales are starting to go stiff.”

AO3 | Chapter One | Chapter Two

I just can't stop myself from writing Lukanette...

Written for my lovely and beautiful friend @valiantlyjollynightmare !!! Your mermaid AU is so wonderfully written and it gives me so many feels that I had to get the mermaid fever out. Please enjoy!!!

Life is simple and stagnant on land and it goes like this.

Wake up. Put on clothes. Find breakfast somewhere in the tiniest kitchen he’s ever been a witness to. It’s compact to the point that it’s hysterical, and it would probably fit someone of normal size. She’d fit in the kitchen just nicely, because things are about her height and eye level, but he has to crouch in order to see inside the fridge. Why are things so small?

Either way, after breakfast he leaves the house and goes to class.

And the classes are mind-numbing, and repetitive, and after the longest chapter of marine ichthyology he almost sleeps through, he’s on his way to find his friends. He’s made a couple of friends for the few months he’s been around, and tries to socialize with them after most of his morning classes have finished, and attempts to enjoy their company before the second block of afternoon classes happen. His friends are kind, and also in the same field as him, so they’ve mostly come close out of the nature of being in mutual classes, but they’re not anyone he’s really gotten close to.

So he’ll eat lunch with them, at some point. Start his next block of classes, and try his best not to roll his eyes at the casual inconsistencies referenced in the slideshow. Find his friends again, if any are available after class, and eat dinner at some point. Walk home, and politely decline any and all attempts to hang out after they’re finally done for the day— after all, everyone knows that he’s extremely busy studying for his classes.

They ask about her often, ask if he’ll be going to visit her for whatever break they have that gives them a sliver of days between classes, asking for pictures of her and well wishes. They ask about her students, ask if she’ll be getting anything for teacher appreciation week that’s common in Canada, and ask about how his life and family are back there before he transferred.

He makes up lies as he goes, of course, because he’s never actually been to Canada and certainly has never been to Quebec, but it seems to be working. His vague knowledge about the West Atlantic works in his favor because none of his classmates are from there, nor have they ever gone themselves. His friends mean well, knowing the feeling of longing when it comes to missing another person, and always offer condolences to the transfer student who seems to be a fish out of water in a new country with a funny Canadian accent, but they aren’t aware of the true nature of his relationship with her.

They know that he’s married. Human customs are similar to his, and the gold band on his left ring finger is a clear sign. Some people he’s met over the past couple of months have shied away and lost interest in him when they’d looked down to see that he never takes the ring off— he doesn’t hold it against them. His friends speculate about how she manages to handle the long-distance without him, but they have no idea just how hard it actually is.

Because they don’t know about the bond fever.

The fever that makes it harder and harder to breathe without her.

Every moment not thinking of her is just a distraction. Every moment not being next to her is biding time. Food tastes bland, music sounds wonky, and all his body wants to do is move. Staying still will make him curl up and stagnate for the rest of his days, and if he wants to leave this part of his life as fast as possible, he can’t afford to stop moving.

So, he’ll arrive home after school, and check up on the coral and fish in his tank to see if everyone in there is fine and not having a turf war without his knowledge. He’ll attempt to have a conversation with his fish, and feed them until they complain, because he’s never gotten the hang of actually taking care of pets. He’ll spin his ouroboros as he continues to waffle between staying and powering through, or the second option of leaving everything behind and dropping everything in favor of her. Work out to get rid of feelings of loneliness— of this horrible, aching bond fever that grips his heart enough to squeeze and hurt and make him regret ever turning to the surface in the first place.

He’ll take the scenic route, along the shore, looking over the ocean he knows and loves dearly. The sun will set over the sea as he takes a break when the buildup of lactic acid in his body gets too painful. It’ll take him hours, probably, of hard running down by the water, but it’ll be enough to get him to stop thinking about her for even a smidge.

Take a shower, afterwards, and making absolute-positive sure that his ouroboros is safely and securely wrapped around his wrist, lest he loses his sea legs— and try to talk to his fish again to get a conversation. Try to finish his homework before passing out asleep on his bed.

Sometimes he remembers to pull the bedsheets up on him. But most of the time he falls asleep in whatever position he’s laid himself down onto the bed, waking up with his arms and legs facing all the wrong way and the alarm on his phone blaring at him to wake up. He wakes up stiff, and sore, but there’s barely any time to sit back and relax before his day starts all over again.

Rinse.

Wash.

Repeat.

Over and over until the days glaze and mesh in his head.

He’s tired— the fish are his only true company, for now, and they rarely talk to him unless they’re begging for food. Sometimes they have a conversation with him when he really gets personal and deep with them, but they don’t really offer much advice, other than the occasional idea to spice up his diet and take a new route to school.

There’s nothing that can get him out of this slump. Nothing above land, anyway. Some days, on the weekends when he has enough time to, he opens the windows that box his mattress as well as the windows in the living room, and lets the salty breeze fly in through the whole houseboat— indulges in the idea of being back home with her— before he begrudgingly faces back to the stacks and stacks of homework piled on his desk.

It’ll be worth it. Just a year and a half left. The ring on his finger is proof enough of that. The bond fever may hurt, and may try to push him to go home, but he knows that she’ll be upset with him if he doesn’t finish school. She’ll probably shove him back up here herself, with her pouting and determined face. She’s docile, but bull-headed, and sometimes the storms in her eyes are as terrifying as the sea he’s from, and he’s certain that she won’t be satisfied until he has that diploma in his hand.

So, he puts his bag down by the door, kicks off his shoes, deadbolts the door behind him, and goes hunting for anything in his fridge that is available. He’s hungry, and he’s far more metabolic in this form than in his normal one, something about being on land just makes him hungrier— and nothing is safe from him when it comes to food.

His houseboat is about the size of a clam, the kitchen itself smaller than a pearl, but the ceiling is tall enough so that he doesn’t have to keep his head down whenever he walks around, so he can’t exactly complain— even when he opens the door to his fridge the size of a child, there’s nothing but a lettuce head that is definitely more white than green, a small box of blueberries he buys every time he makes eye contact with it in the store and thinks of her, and his leftover carton of eggs. The box of blueberries is full, still, and he’s convinced that he leaves it in the fridge until it rots just in case she ends up showing up and wants her favorite food.

But…

Life is simple, and stagnant on land, and he’s forgotten to do groceries this week.

Rinse, wash, and repeat.

He makes quick work of making the saddest scrambled eggs he could possibly produce in his lifetime, using up all of the leftover eggs— six of them, and he won’t be able to regret the amount of food he’s eating until he wakes up tomorrow with absolutely nothing to eat— and proceeds to bin the shells immediately. He eats over the sink, a utensil in one hand and the handle of the pan in the other, spooning and chasing runny eggs into his mouth, barely paying attention to the flavor.

He’s famished. And it’s not like he’d even be able to taste the flavor, anyway, from how bad his heart hurts. Bond fever is a finicky thing.

At least he remembered to throw the eggshells away in the proper place, instead of letting them clog up the sink.

He’d compost them, if he had any plants to take care of— but that’s always been her department, not his. The walls of his one-bedroom one-bathroom boat are sparse and empty— simply just a bed with a comfortable duvet and blue sheets, his tank full of fish that don’t offer enough company, a desk with some shelves to study at, lined with textbooks, and a wobbly table to eat at. He’d splurged on the extra desk— he could’ve just used the eating table— but knew it was probably better to keep his school papers and food away from each other. Besides, the back left leg of the table definitely looks like it’s about to cave at any point. It’s why he’s started just eating standing up and over the sink.

But she would never let him live like this.

It’s a clean house, and everything has its place, but it’s barren. Almost as if he doesn’t really live here.

And to be honest, he doesn’t. Physically, he spends most of his time here, but— bond fever makes him completely and totally disoriented. Mentally and emotionally he is nowhere near land, but rather in her arms, away from this simple and bland house.

But if she were here… truly here, instead of a fleeting moment…

She would decorate the walls with paint. Put up shelves. Print out photos, and frame them, because she’s enamored with the idea of ink and stains and items that permanently stain other things. She’d taken up to painting quite well, the last time— buying a selection of beginner’s acrylic gouaches in many different colors, and had set to work painting for the first time in her life. The world had exploded onto the canvases. Boats, sunrises, shores from distant islands, a turbulent and salty sea— she’d painted like she was taking a photograph and was developing it right onto the canvas.

He wishes he had the paintings with him now. Anything and everything to keep him company— any remembrance of her is such a blessing. He’ll take it all, if he can. Somedays, the ring on his finger just isn’t enough to keep his heart from hurting. He’ll catch sight of a bolt of ruffled pink fabric in a store window that is so glossy and sheer and delicate that he’ll find himself spinning his ring nonstop, dreaming of being together with her again.

Just a year and a half…

She’d line the shelves with rocks. Trinkets. Keychains from cities they’d gone to together, braided knots, and beautiful jewelry. And how could he forget the plants upon plants she’d shove into every square inch of the place, to the point where the houseboat would be a living and breathing creature from all of the greenery? Sunflowers— peonies— roses— lilacs— geraniums— tulips— every flower she could possibly find at a flower shop would somehow make it onto a flat surface in the houseboat.

This houseboat is empty without her. He spins the ring on his finger, thinking to himself about her— wishing and longing to see her. Just a year and a half more. He can visit on holidays, if he can afford it— but this isn’t just for him. It’s for her, too.

He flicks the light on in his room after washing the dishes, in the process of taking off his shirt, getting ready to try talking to the fish today in the far corner, the furthest away from his full-sized mattress, before giving in to go on a run along the docks. He almost throws his shirt onto the bed— when— well.

That’s when he notices the mermaid on his bed.

The sleeping mermaid on his bed.

She’s dozing off— hidden under his blanket, the mass of blue covers pulled tight around her naked shoulders. One of her pale arms has escaped from the mess she’s made of the fabric, and it hangs off the bed— steam rising softly off of her skin like she’s slowly being cooked, matching ring glinting in the light of the lamp on his nightstand. His eyes widen at the sight of her— the slow and soft drag of her tail fins against the floor as she inhales and exhales, because even curled up she can’t fit all of her on the mattress. She’s never been considered large, not proportionately, but the tail fins are long and delicate, and the mattress is far too small to fit the both of them if he were in his normal form too.

Pink, shimmery and translucent fins flutter as if caught by a slow breeze— petal-like in shape and it always feels silky against his fingertips whenever he’s touched her in the past, and today it looks no different. He follows the line of her fins back up to her tail that disappears underneath the comfortable blanket, where she’s wrapped herself to keep warm from the stale and stagnant air that permeates the room. He’s always liked the temperature around him to be colder, because of how he grew up, but she’s never been able to handle the slight freeze unless she’s been charmed, the little reef-dweller. Either charmed or wrapped up so tightly around him in order to soak up his body heat, nearly squeezing him to death. He sleeps with an eel of a woman, whenever they’re together, completely and totally reluctant to ever let him go.

Like now.

She’s here.

Here.

Strangling the blanket around her shoulders to keep the cold away from her.

His heart squeezes, and he finds himself on his knees, not exactly kneeling on the mattress but rather the floor just in front of her— gently parting the blanket enough to locate her other arm. She hums at the back of her throat when the cold air reaches and pebbles her porcelain skin— face pinching softly at the cold— before she blinks awake when he whispers her name in order to rouse her.

He’s always loved her blue eyes. Especially when they look at him, shining and shimmering like diamonds. “Mmmm?”

“Hi,” He checks her ears for her own magical charm. They’re there, and safely secured on her ear lobes, two perfectly beautiful pink pearls. They had been wedding gifts to her from her job at the school, that many of the parents had chipped in to get her a charm that would be able to withstand long periods of time outside of the sea, and he’s never been so grateful as now to see her wear them. “How long have you been here for?”

She’s always been a slow riser when she wakes up, so the first few seconds of her being conscious again are routinely docile and sweet, and today is no different. Her face softens the moment she recognizes where she is and who she’s looking at, a certain sweetness in her eyes that makes his heart hurt. “Luka? Oh, oh— Luka—”

She latches onto him tightly, pulling him close by her arms around his neck and shoulders with a happy noise. She smells of the ocean, even though she’s dry— her soft black hair just as silky, and just as long as it’s always been. It spills between his fingers as he combs through it, almost liquid on the web of his fingers and down his wrist, and he spends a moment or two just basking in her warmth, basking in the way she sighs against him. She kisses the closest skin available to her, which seems to be his shoulder, his collarbone, his chest, and his bicep— smiling happily up at him when he pulls away enough to look at her in the eyes.

“Marinette— Marinette— I can’t believe you’re here.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Her eyes look glassy with tears. “Your fish told me you would be home later— why are you here so early? I thought I had time to surprise you and greet you at the door.”

“You must’ve slept for too long,” He noses at the shell of her ear. “This is about the time I get home every day. But little pearl, what are you doing here? Did you travel safely? Don’t get me wrong, please— I’m so thankful— but when did you show up? No injuries? It’s not a holiday at home, I don’t think, is it?”

“I’m okay. Everything’s okay. No one saw me, and no one tried fishing for me. I just couldn’t keep waiting for you to come back,” She hums. Marinette’s always been a singer, ever since they met for the first time. Always a tune in her voice, always singing and humming away like a never-ending record player. “I’ve missed you so much, Luka, you have no idea— so I just decided that today was enough waiting. I dropped everything off and told my parents that I needed to see you— you, my darling sky.”

“I’m so glad you’re here.” He kisses her. And then again. And then again. And again. He keeps doing it until it hurts to not breathe— but even then, he doesn’t really find the desire to pull away. After all, this is much easier than what he’s dealt with for the past year. “Every day, my heartache just keeps getting worse— this is horrible. How are we supposed to keep this up for another year?”

“And I thought the wedding would’ve been the hard part of all of this— turns out that the bond is just as real as they say.” She giggles as she pulls him closer. He leans over her, wrapping an arm around the smallest part of her waist, resting his open palm on her upper back to support her as he lays her back down. She’s handsy— he doesn’t blame her— brushing her fingertips on all the skin available to her, making an unsatisfied noise when she reaches his jeans. “Take these off?”

Ah. Lovely Marinette. Always so handsy and desperate for close contact— as if he’s any better. He hasn’t seen her in so long, he’s seconds from stopping the pleasantries and letting her know just how much he’s actually missed her. “But—”

“You’ve never been shy before.” She clicks her tongue with a silly little eye roll. She traces his tattoo on his arm, a small smile on her face, following the compass rose’s north tip up his arm. She makes it to the boat with seven sails, before looking up at him rather confused. “There’s nothing you haven’t already shown me— I’ve seen every single centimeter of you and every last scale. Unless— uhm— has something changed?”

“No, nothing has changed— relax that worry in your eyes.” He laughs, and can’t help himself when he kisses her again, slow enough to distract her as he pulls his jeans off, leaving his boxers behind. Her eyes blow wide at the sight of him naked, save for the jade ouroboros around his wrist and the band of his underwear. He hopes it isn’t inside out. “I just meant that I’ve barely been able to look at you, and I know you won’t let me go until it’s tomorrow if I let you have your way. You’re hidden underneath the blanket— let me look at you first before your tail disappears. Why are you wrapped up like a sushi roll, sweetheart?”

“It’s cold,” She shivers, just to prove her point, attempting to pull a fast one on him and reaching for the waistband of his boxers before he snags her wrist with a laugh. Thin and soft shoulders curl underneath his palms in an attempt to stop heat from escaping, and she collects an edge of the blanket to cover herself back up and make a bigger mess out of the covers, locks of her hair spilling over the blanket, pooling to where her waist should be. She tries to tuck in her tail with mixed results. “Why is it colder on land than it is on sea? How are you able to withstand this much frost, Luka? Even my scales are starting to go stiff.”

“Reef-dweller,” He grins.

“Yes, yes, continue to make fun of you poor wife who cannot contain heat because of biology. But you don’t have your scales on you right now, you sea serpent.” She pouts. “I should be much more suited for this cold than you should be, right now.”

He guides her burritoed form closer with a warm smile. Her fins flutter, delicate and sweet, as he pulls her close enough for her to rest part of her tail on his lap as he gently reaches for the edges of the blanket again. “It isn’t actually that cold. You’re just losing heat so you can get your sea legs, remember?”

“Unfortunately, I’m starting to remember the hard way. Stars, I keep forgetting how uncomfortable the transformation is. Maybe I’m doing it on purpose.”

“Let me see you,” He noses at her jawline.

“Only if you promise to warm me up after,” She teases, and she actually manages to snap his waistband against his hip, making him hiss at the sensation. She giggles, kicking up her tail delightfully at the noise he makes. “Please, sky?”

They’re politely ignoring the way he’s starting to fill out his underwear already at the sight of her. It’s instinctual, of course, because of bonds and magic and, well, it is Marinette that’s looking at him like she’s famished. “Of course. You don’t even have to ask.”

Steam billows from the opened pocket of the blanket the moment he unwraps her and finally takes a good look at her. Sweet stars, he’s missed her so much, and he shows her just how much by touching her everywhere. She shivers under his fingertips as he traces the small scales that line her chest and stomach. They’re starting to retreat and fade, now that the drying process is finishing up, but she’s still completely smooth and too scaled to have her human characteristics just yet.

“You’re shivering, my sweet pearl.”

“Yes, but— your hands are so warm,” She sighs.

There’s a gentle swell to her chest, hidden beneath the neat rows of hazy pink scales, but the swell isn’t as much as what she has in her human form. He’d learned early on, when they’d first tried their magic charms and had gained their sea legs, that he loves all versions of her body— including when her chest fills his palms with such softness he feels like weeping, with pink peaks that make her sing whenever he tweaks them. Everything about her is delicate, like the world’s most fragile flower.

But very soon, he’s going to end up with an entirely naked woman on his bed instead of a mermaid. Both are lovely ideas. He’ll be able to watch her wobble on her sea legs for an hour or two before she relearns her balance, and have to guide her by her naked hips if she wants to leave the room. She’ll probably want to stretch her legs, and take a turn about the very small boathouse, but they probably won’t be able to leave the house today. That look in her eyes is telling.

As if he’s any better.

He traces the rows of scales down her stomach, the scales getting thicker and larger as he reaches just about where her tail technically begins at the hips. Her arms, too, have patches of translucent pink scales that are starting to disappear in favor of just skin, and he follows the long line of her tail down with a palm.

He skirts over the area that he knows she so desperately wants to guide him to, gaining a brief huff and pout from her as he instead grazes along her scales all the way to her long and beautiful curtain fin. His touches are soft, and barely noticeable— but it’s enough to get her to twitch.

He starts to tickle her.

“Luka,” She slaps her tail on the mattress in an attempt to make him stop tickling her, and her hand grabs for his— but her laughter is so contagious he can hardly stand it himself. “What— ha— what are you— oh, stars— d-doing?”

“I haven’t seen my wife in almost a year,” He gives her a smile, laughing at the way she squirms uselessly under his hands. “Can I not touch her?”

“You can touch— but—” Such sweet laughter! “But why— oh! Why touch me there when I’m ticklish?”

“Oh? Would you rather me touch you higher?”

“Yes,” She giggles. “Oh, please, I know exactly where I’d like you to touch me. But buy me dinner first, at least.”

“I’ll do more than that, sweetheart.” He licks his lips, watching the way she shifts to prop herself on her elbows. She blows her bangs out of her face when it starts to fall across her lashes, looking at him with sparkling beautiful eyes. She’s so pretty. Absence makes the heart grow fonder, and all of that, but his love for her has never diminished in the first place. Sweet beautiful melody. “What is it that my lovely girl wants?”

“Hm…”

“Make it count, of course. Your tail is going to disappear soon.”

“How about: you tell me that you want me like this, sky,” She peeks at him from under her lashes.

He wants her in any form, this won’t be too hard. “I want you.”

She’s feeling cheeky, isn’t she? That smile is proof alone. “Tell me you need me.”

“As if I have to say that.” But she prods him with a cute pout when he rolls his eyes, and he acquiesces: “I need you.”

“Tell me you can’t live without me.”

“I’m miserable without you. So miserable.” He means it. And she knows it. “I don’t want to keep doing this long-distance anymore. I’ve never been so miserable.”

She tilts her head to the side with another hum, looking around the room. “Tell me you’ll let me decorate our home— it’s so bland in here. Where are all the flowers? The music?”

“Please decorate—” His brain flatlines. “Wait, decorate? This house? This— our— house? Home?”

“Surprise!” Another peal of laughter escapes from her, and it follows through her body to a delicate flick of her tail.

His eyes widen. “You— you’re staying?”

“Yes!” She nods, shimmying on her elbows as she grins. “Yes yes yes!”

“But— Marinette— you—” Sweet stars, she’s staying. She’s staying. How could he ever want her to go? The love of his life, the jewel in his heart, and his wife— staying for longer than a few fleeting moments when she can afford to slip away from home? Oh— oh— his heart could burst.

“I can’t stay away from you.” She confesses, cupping his hand and kissing the gold band on his finger. She balances her upper weight on her other elbow, but doesn’t seem to struggle under her own weight. “I’m tired of being away. The bond is making me miserable, Luka, and I’ve had just about enough of it. So, I decided to make it easy on the both of us.”

“But—”

She winks. “I know.”

“And—”

“Yes, that too.”

“Also, your job—”

“I know,” Her laughter is so sweet. He can’t even finish his sentences without her answering as if they’re on the same wavelength— oh— he’s missed this woman so much. “I know, sky. I know. But all of it will be there still when we go back next year. My students won’t go to the next teacher until five years from now. I’ve already talked to the other teachers about me disappearing off with you for a year.”

She… she would really be willing to give up everything, just like that, just for him? Her students, her daily work, her desire to teach? Her desire to nurture? All of it, just to be with him? “I can’t do that to you, little pearl. I know how important your students are to you— I can’t ask you to stay away from them. Maybe I should just go home with you, instead.”

“Luka, honestly! You’re not doing this to me, I want to stay with you— and you better finish this degree of yours. You’ve worked too hard! You know why I couldn’t come with you in the first place, but a year has changed and things are better now, my parents got help from a new family that’s moved into the reef. We can afford a year away from home now, my sweet. A real year away. You know I get one year off to stay with my bond.”

“But that was only as soon as you get married— that was, sweet stars— it was eleven months ago.”

“And I never used it,” She informs him, as if he hadn’t also spent the last year lonely and miserable. “So it’s still viable. I told you, I already talked to the other teachers.”

“But our family—”

“—is completely and totally better off without me constantly sighing in their ears.” She shrugs with a soft smile. It’s a little difficult, given that she’s still propped up on her elbows, but she makes it work. “If I touched my ring one more time in front of my mother, she would’ve personally pushed me out of the ocean herself. Not to mention your mother, telling me that ‘it’s not good to leave your bond alone, lassie. Bonds need to be cultivated, lassie’. Two mothers pushing me up onto the docks, telling me to sleep easy for at least one night. Better me than your mother dragging you back home to deal with me and my nightmares.”

She looks thin. Thinner than usual for springtime, and her face definitely looks a little darker than usual. His poor Marinette, how could he have done this to her? But it’s not like he isn’t affected in the same way, either… all of those nightmares and dull days, wishing to see and hold her. “Have you been eating? You’re looking thin.”

Perhaps they shouldn’t keep trying to test the universal truths with their bond. They really need that year together, don’t they?

“Me? You look thin, Luka.” There’s a frown making its way to the edges of her lips. “Is there not enough food for you? When was the last time you ate?”

“Tuttering pearl,” He murmurs. “Always worrying about me.”

“With good reason to,” She pouts. “Of course I worry about you, sky. What kind of spouse would I be if I didn’t ask my husband if he’s okay? Not a very good one, right?”

“I’ve been eating okay. I eat more in this form.”

“You look pale, my sweet.”

“You’re not the only one who’s been having trouble,” He admits. “Life has been so stagnant without you that I’m kind of just running like a machine. The days are all a blur, and it’s gotten to where I don’t even remember days unless I have a test or homework due that day. I already knew that university was miserable, but— ah, little pearl— don’t cry. It’s alright.”

Marinette’s going to burst into tears. “How stupid of me, leaving you alone.”

“No, sweetheart. You didn’t leave me alone.”

“You’re not as healthy as you usually are,” She hushes a bit when he kisses her, but it’s not enough. “I should’ve been here.”

“No. No, you didn’t do anything wrong. I was the one who left, and I shouldn’t have done that to you. To us.”

“I should’ve come with you.”

“I should’ve waited.” He kisses her again. And again. And again. “I should’ve waited just a little longer to come back up here.”

“You would’ve missed the scholarship if you had. Life could’ve waited for us back home— I should’ve come with you.”

Her tears taste like the ocean, too. “It’s okay, pearl.”

“Oh, sky,” Her eyes are so watery, even as he tries to calm her down with a gentle hand running down her scales. “What idiots we were.”

He tries for a smile. “Everyone told us this would happen.”

“They did,” She nods, sniffing into his palms as he cradles her face and wipes her lower eyelids free of tears. “They did, and we didn’t listen, and it’s cost us a whole year away from one another. How were we supposed to know it got this bad? It hurts to breathe without you.”

“I guess we were just supposed to listen to them,” He kisses her when she tilts her head up in an indication that she wants his lips on hers. He kisses her enough to make her eyes slip shut, and for her body to shiver as he reaches around her again to hold her at the waist. Sweet, sweet Marinette.

“Never again. Never ever again. I’m so thankful I’m here— I won’t let you go. I need you so much. Will you have me forever?”

There’s no need to ask. “Always. I did end up bonding with you, after all.”

She snorts, almost surprising herself with the noise. “A wise choice, you know. I’ve been told I’m very ‘agreeable’.”

Luka finds himself smiling. “Which parent said that?”

“Her child was impossible to console, every morning there was a new battle with this student. Every afternoon his mother would tell me that if no one ends up bonding with me by the following winter, she’ll start courting me herself, completely oblivious to the ring on my finger. She’s amazed at how easy I handle children, and I’m amazed she can just ignore the clear signs of me having bond fever for this long.”

“You’re perfect at your job,” They both laugh when he’s close enough to her to press his forehead onto hers. “But remember that you’re not the only one that wants to take care of their loved one. No more bond fever. I promise.”

“Definitely not. I’ll make sure to chase it out of our bodies on my own, if I have to.”

“Won’t stop until it’s gone?”

“Making up for the time we spent away,” She nods. “It might take us a little longer than normal, from how bad the fever’s gotten, but I don’t think you mind.”

“Greedy.” He grins. “How will I survive?”

She folds herself around him, encircling him as tightly as possible while still allowing him to move his arms. There’s genuine muscle behind the delicateness of her scales and fins— and while she can’t actually hurt his skin with her scales from how tough-skinned he is even in his human form, he is worried that she might accidentally hurt herself by how brittle and fragile they are. She’s still drying out, going through the process of getting her sea legs, meaning that her tail and fins aren’t as slippery as they usually are. “You’ve been captured, sky. No use trying to escape now.”

Their charms soak up most of the oils on their body, allowing them to fully dry out and gain human legs. Marinette is in the final moments of the transformation, which gives him about thirty more minutes of enjoying seeing his wife like she normally looks before she’s safely hidden amongst other humans.

But still, unbeknown to his wishes to see her completely laid flat, she continues to wrap around him, humming at the back of her throat as she soaks up his body heat, coiling around him like an eel. Cold little pearl. “Still freezing, my sweet?”

“I’m feeling a little better. I don’t think I’m losing any more body heat, but I’ll take any opportunity to be attached to you. I don’t want to let you go for the next ten days. Or weeks. Or months. What do you say to a whole year of us together in this bed?”

“We need to eat at some point.”

“I believe you said that there are delivery services available?” She hums. “I really liked pizza the last time. Do they make pizza with blueberries on them?”

“I’m not sure they do.”

“They should,” She makes a happy noise. “The taste would be sublime. Blueberries are so wonderful. Or how about blueberries and peaches on the pizza?”

“Humans would probably tell you that the pizza you’re craving is a crime.” His laughter is genuine, bubbling out of him at the idea of Marinette eating a slice of what humans consider revolting. “They don’t put fruit on them.”

“They’re missing out on flavors they never would’ve imagined.” She pouts.

“What are we going to do with your horrifying taste palette? You have the appetite of a sea-dweller. Are you sure you’ve lived your entire life in the reef?”

“All of my years, yes.” She giggles. “I don’t imagine I would be a very good sea-dweller. Much too cold down there.”

He smiles when a shiver travels down her tail at the thought of the water. “Oh, yes, how could I have forgotten that I promised to warm you up? Maybe I should cash that in now.”

A hand makes it to his boxers. She snaps his waistband with another version of her soft smiles and those wandering, glittering blue eyes, and, oh— it’s impossible for him to take off his underwear like this, with her tail completely wrapped around him like she’s a snake— but his wife is nothing short of persistent as she kisses his side. He shivers when her tongue sneaks against his skin, wet and moist, and he can feel himself involuntarily twitch his toes at the feeling. “Maybe I should warm you up instead, sky. You look like you’re having a rough time.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But—”

“You are hopelessly mistaken if you think I’m going to allow you to have free reign of my body before I’m able to enjoy the last sights of you like this.” Even as his toes continue to twitch with the way she mouths at his ribs. “You ravenous woman. You’re terrible at sharing, and I’ve missed you very much.”

“Oh, it’s not as if I can’t just take off my earrings and let you enjoy touching my scales some more.”

“You know what I mean,” He scrunches his nose. “Let me do this properly.”

“I’ll let you do whatever you’d like as long as I get to go first.” She tugs at the elastic. “Please? Just a few minutes, Luka? A decently sized amount of time to get my mouth on you?”

Oh, conniving mermaid. “I do not make deals with you. The last time I did, I ended up getting married to you.”

“As if that’s a bad thing!”

“I don’t regret it,” He shares a grin with her. “Definitely not. But you just have a way of convincing me to do things.”

“Oh, so I convinced you to marry me? Funny, I remember something about how you were convinced you were bad for me, but couldn’t help yourself but to keep trying to court me…” She giggles when he attempts to squeeze out of her grasp, rolling his eyes affectionately. “There’s no escaping, sky. Not with your sea legs, I’m afraid.”

It’s true. He is a lot stronger than her with his tail. With just about anything, really, because merfolk from the reefs are nothing compared to the ones out in the open sea with hardened skin and longer figures, but…

“This bed will break if I get rid of them,” He manages to get one of his legs out, much to her complaints. She’s far too dry for her to keep a genuine grip on him, poor thing. “Stretch out, little pearl. I’m curious to see how well you can last.”

“Will you take me like this?” She gasps, letting him unwrap her enough for his other leg to slip out from underneath her. “Oh, sky, yes please! I’m not sure—”

“We’ll do that next time. I have something else in mind.” Although he’s willing to try. Maybe when she isn’t on the cusp of transforming out of her tail, because that would take a little longer for them to find the best position— she’s always so small and tight as it is. It would be easier in water, of course, so that she’s in whatever position is more comfortable for her, but with his ouroboros on he breathes like a normal human. Sadly, he would probably drown himself.

Marinette would kill him.

A good way to go. But still killed and drowned all the same.

She’s still ticklish under his fingertips when he brushes over her scales again, but her cheeks are slowly pinking as they make eye contact. She’s not shy— definitely not. Honestly, she’s much more adventurous than him, in this aspect, but it’s been so long since they’ve been together, and he hopes that he remembers how to please her to the point she sings. Even though she’s excited, and he can tell by the way her fins twitch at the end of the bed, she mostly keeps still as he follows her scales back to where she’s wanted him to be from the very beginning.

Ah, there she is.

This spot is definitely not dry.

Soft, and full of slick, she opens gently to his prodding fingers with a sigh. Her nails are blunt, but they feel like little needles on his shoulders as she grips him, trying her best not to squirm and overwhelm him. Her body is tightly wound, almost hurtful, and even with the slick she’s not that easy to sink into down to the knuckle like he’d imagined. He hisses at how tight she is, feeling his cheeks heat and something stir at the base of his spine, panting as he hears her squelch as he pushes in more and more. “Why are you so tight, pearl?”

“I— oh— haven’t had much time to myself, the school keeps me so busy—” She makes a noise of contentment anyway, brushing her hair back and around her as he fingers her open. She’s a pretty sight, with her hair long and flat like ribbons near her waist. If he twists his finger this way… maybe she’ll… “And you know I don’t like doing it— oh, stars! Luka, yes, more of that—”

“Easy,” He grins, making sure she doesn’t squirm completely away from his hands. She wants to stay, she does, and he knows that, but she’s always too excited to keep still and let him finish. She wants all of it. She wants all of him, and always ends up rushing to the good parts instead of enjoying the moment. “Finish what you were saying, sweetheart.”

She huffs when he stills his finger, batting her tail along the end of the mattress. “I don’t like doing it alone, you know, and it’s been rather lonely doing it.”

“I know what you mean,” He fills in the silence between her panting, twisting his finger again and making her eyes roll as a groan leaves her.

She bites her lip. “I’d rather you help me out, it always feels so much better— oh— you’re just so good, sky.”

“Oh, am I?” He meets her gaze almost challengingly, slowing his fingers down enough to get a shine back into her hazing eyes. “So does that mean you thought about me?”

Does he really deserve that fin slap onto his shoulder? He would say no, but, there’s not much of an argument to be made when she rolls her eyes. “Of course I thought about you. What kind of ridiculous question is that?”

“Let me guess,” He tilts his head to the side, blinking at her with shaggy hair in his lashes. “Did you think about the last time we did it? How I’d made you sing for hours?”

“No— I mean, well, yes— but—” She moans.

He hums. “You almost woke up our neighbors with your sighs. Pretty little thing.”

“You know, I also thought about my husband hurrying up whenever he decided to finger me,” Her smile curls silly when all he does is laugh and continue to stall. Slicking his fingers against the soft and wet slit, only gently sinking in only to pull out again, making her mewl out. “I want to get you out of those boxers, damn this tail! Your cock is calling my name, I know it— if only I had the legs to catch you with, you’d see the summit of my desires.”

“Oh, I’d love to see that. A reef-dweller, trying to outmaneuver a deep-sea dweller.”

“You’re not as scary as you think, sky,” Her shoulders shake from laughter, and he retaliates by curling his fingers just so in order to get that whine back into her voice. “I’ll— oh my— h-have you know, I got over your differentness—”

“My ‘differentness’?” He grins, but she doesn’t elaborate.

“—within the first year of meeting you. Maybe even the first month— I knew from the moment your eyes turned into gold that I was going to marry you. Our friends were confused and terrified of it— but I knew that you’re nothing more than a guppy. And I knew it from the moment you scales changed colors to match the reef that I had found my eternal love.”

“Sweet,” He muses, trying his best not to blush. “But you are still no match for a deep-sea dweller, my love. They’re tougher than nails. The bullies of the merworld.”

“Oh, I’m sure that’s true.” But she doesn’t make eye contact with him anymore, instead looking down at his boxers with a knowing look. His body stirs as she continues to look at him, wetting her lips with a slow drag of her tongue, enraptured by what she sees. “The ever scary deep sea, with their terrifying personalities and scary men who want nothing more than to please their wives.”

“And I, of course, wouldn’t know anything about that.”

Something in her switches, and her gaze snaps up to his. He looks at her shining eyes, watching them widen into a lovely shape as she whines at the back of her throat. “Let me have you, Luka, before I lose my mind from how much I need you.”

His finger goes back to making her sing. “I love it when you beg, sweetheart.”

“Ridiculous man,” She rolls her eyes but it almost feels forced as her face turns redder and redder. “Just— oh— watch out, sky, because once you’re done I’ll return the favor.”

She drags him closer for a kiss. He eases another finger into her, desperate to make the humming noise turn into a full-on shout, but he gets distracted by the way her tongue presses into his. Inquisitive, as usual, his pearl is frantic for him as she curls her tongue into his mouth, parting her own lips in a moan when he angles his head to the side and nips at her bottom lip with his teeth.

She’s alive under his fingers. Tight, yes— warmer than a furnace, too— she’s everything he loves and craves. He’ll chase the bond fever out of her, too, even if it takes him all night, but the way she sings praises of his fingers curling and uncurling in her as he works her open is a sign that it might not be long before his pearl is gushing over his fingers.

But the bond fever won’t be that easy to solve. They have a whole year to make up for, of course, but he’s certain that this is in the right direction. To hell with obligations of tomorrow, or even all of the groceries he knows that they have to go and get when he has her gasping and moaning from his actions— he hasn’t heard her sweet and moaning voice in months. It’s a sweet song that he’ll hold forever in his heart.

“Luka— Luka—” She purrs.

Or tries to, at least, since they’re outside of water and the sound doesn’t travel like it should. Regardless, it’s a rumbly and poetic noise that warms him all over, evidence that the strain in her shoulders is starting to lessen, and evidence that she’s relaxing completely. He almost straddles her, his knees on either side of her tail and careful not to step on her hair, pistoning his fingers in the way he knows will alleviate that curl in her spine.

“You’re so beautiful, sweetheart,” He could watch her come undone by him for the rest of his life. “Nothing in the world compares to you.”

Oh, and he knows she loves hearing him say that. Luka knows she’s the happiest when he pays attention to her and goads her with endless amount of praise. None of it is ever lies, or forced— which is probably the reason why she loves it so much.

As if to prove his point, slick squelches out of her as she sighs. She’s taking his two fingers so well, even as it’s a tight fit, even as her body attempts to push him out because his fingers are much bigger than what her body reasonably allows to penetrate her, but still, she’s doing so well— even her scales are shining in the lamplight from the amount of fluid she’s producing, and it makes the pink scales look all the more vibrant. “Sky— oh, please, sky—”

“Just a bit more,” He whispers. “I want to watch you just for a little longer. My darling. My wonderful and absolute darling.”

“Please—” She’s babbling a bit, leaning into his hand he has at her cheek, looking at him with those diamond blue eyes. “Please, Luka, please— oh—”

Oh, he loves it when she begs.

“Come for me?” He nips at her jaw and mouth. He’d bite and lick her at the chest if she had her sea legs, but there’s nothing but smooth scales to mouth over, and it would probably be best not to get any lacerations just because he couldn’t wait for a bit longer. “Be a dearest for me and come for me, little pearl.”

Her tail goes completely rigid when she does.

He feels his fingers get squeezed just as she throws her head back, and catches sight of her earrings starting to glow. He pulls his fingers out just as the magical charms release and stain her skin, and he blinks at the sight of beautiful cream-colored legs wrapped around his hips. Not to mention her pink slit, sticky from his help— he can’t stop himself from going back to her and using his fingertips up and down the sensitive flesh that has her twitching and mewling behind a hand.

“Oh! I— I forgot I’m more sensitive—” She flinches when he comes into contact with her clit. He rolls her flesh between two fingers, enjoying that cute face she makes, before— wait— are her thighs locking because she’s— “Luka— oh stars—”

“Twice back to back, pearl?” His eyes blow wide when she comes back from gasping and crying. “Oh, sweetheart.”

“Oh. I didn’t expect— oh.”

“Sweet Marinette. You’re so perfect, just like usual.” He murmurs as she starts to settle back down, starting to slow her twitching from his fingertips. “How are you feeling?”

“Mmmm,” She hums instead of answering, and he can’t fault himself for chuckling. “That one is going to cost you.”

“Is it?”

But the sight of her is mouth-watering, so breathtakingly mouth-watering— and he’s halfway to just opening her up again with his fingers and exploring all of her new skin available. After all, the swell of her breasts is so appetizing, her face flushed and glowing as she loses a bit of steam in favor of drowsily blinking up at him— he wants nothing more than to suck bruises onto her porcelain skin and have her continuously cry out.

His own arousal is an afterthought, so long as he can keep her with him looking this beautiful and this dazed.

But the world tilts very much soon after he makes that thought.

“Yes, my lovely sky. My turn— I’ll make sure you to give you two as well.” She smiles, saddling him with a fervor that he should’ve expected by now. The space between her legs is sticky and warm, and he can feel her wetness through his boxers as she sits right where he’s sure is most comfortable for her. Her thighs feel like the perfect weights against his hips, slotting against him like a perfect pair.

Her eyes are brown, now, just as dark and vast as the sea he grew up in before meeting her. Her human eyes are beautiful and nostalgic to his past, and he finds himself captivated by them every time. He loves her in all forms, after all, bond or not— she’s beautiful to him in all versions he’s ever met her, even as he plays with the strands of her slightly shorter hair, relishing in how soft it still is against his fingertips.

“Go easy on me, scary serpent, you know I bruise easily,” He grins at her, palming up the soft flesh of her legs. She shivers at it, still sensitive after just transforming. No doubt her body is still trying to make sense of the sudden change, but she seems to be more in favor of putting all of that on the back burner and focusing on him. She captures his wrist, and kisses softly at his ring when she brings his hand up to her face— he tries his best not to pay attention to how her breasts feel like silk against his arm and elbow.

“Not a chance, my dear.”

AO3 | Chapter One | Chapter Two

#pro lukamari #pro lukanette #fragileizyfic #fragileizylukanette #lukanette endgame

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soyforramen · 4 years ago

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3 times archie wanted to call veronica while he was away but didn’t, and one time he did. 39 for varchie!

I’m so sorry, apparently I posted this on AO3 and not on Tumblr!!!

One:

On the outskirts of Riverdale, Archie watched as Jughead spoke into the payphone, letting Betty and F.P. know where they were, what he was doing. Even from this distance his posture was relaxed, calm. It was a direct contrast to how Archie was feeling, every nerve, every muscle, every joint ready to be gone from here.

Archie was grateful beyond words that Jughead had insisted on going with him when he found out about the bounty. That he’d refused to let Archie go through this alone, even though some part of Archie knew Jughead’s insistence had more to do with living out the lives of so many of those long dead authors he worshiped.

But Jughead wasn’t the person who Archie wanted to be crossing the country with.

A surge of longing shot through him as he did his best not to dial that number he knew by heart. The number he knew could soothe some of this pain. He slipped a hand into his coat pocket where his cell phone lay dead from the last two days on the road. His thumb ran over the glossy surface, keying in the number as it went.

Even if he could talk to her, she’d tell him what he didn’t want to hear. What he didn’t want to believe. She’d tell him they could work this out together. That together they could stand up to anything. Whatever stood against Veronica Lodge would fall when it came in front of her determination.

Everything she would tell him would be enough to make him second guess his footing. Enough to second guess this self-imposed exile.

She’d be angry, too. Angry that he’d left her without a word. And she’d have every right to that anger.

But this time, Archie couldn’t let himself be convinced by her. He couldn’t risk her getting hurt because of him. Too many people already had.

There was blood on his hands, blood that could never wash out. Blood that would only stain her silk satin sheets. Blood that would turn her white pearls a murderous pink.

He’d stain her to her soul, and that was one thing Archie couldn’t do.

Jughead hung up and Archie stood to wipe the dirt from his jeans. He scraped his palms across the denim, a small burning ache lingering across them. The ghost of her hand around his wrist called to him and he tried to rub the feeling away.

Concern splashed across his face, Jughead gave Archie a side-long glance. It was obvious he wanted to talk, probably about whatever Betty wanted to pass along. But Jughead passed on doing so. Instead he fell into step with Archie as they walked the silent road to Greendale, both heavy with something neither could quite put a word to.

Two:

Late at night, cicadas screaming around them and the smell of hay heavy in the air, Archie stared at the stars above them. Next to him, Jughead snored and rolled over. He’d always been able to sleep no matter the circumstances. A survival instinct, he’d once called it. Archie hadn’t understood what he’d meant at the time, and even now it made little sense. Sleep was a luxury now, one Archie couldn’t afford to indulge in. Not with so much running through his head, and even more running after him.

It had been a week since they’d first come to the farm, but time meant nothing to him now. It stretched out into a puddle disturbed by a rock skipped across it, the ripples distorting days and minutes into one and the same.

On the farm, time held no meaning outside of day and night. Things were simple. Wake at dawn, feed the animals. Heavy labor the rest of the day, broken up by a meal. The physical work took his mind off everything he’d been running from. It wasn’t hard to see him living out the rest of his days here.

Jughead, though, was unnerved by this place. Those he’d spoke to in town had unsettled him, the dice seeming to follow him at every turn, a reminder and an omen of Riverdale. But for Archie, this place felt safe.

And as guilty as he felt about it, Laura made him feel safe. With how sweet she’d been to her sister, with how kind she’d been to open her doors to two strange travelers. She’d understood how hard it had been for them when Archie had told her the truth. She had even gone so far as to ask if there was anything else she could do for them.

He hadn’t felt this safe in a long time.

No, that wasn’t true. There had been one place. One person.

That safety was long gone, along with it his rose-colored dreams of their future together. Both had been dashed to pieces under the strange circumstances they’d both found themself in.

Jughead’s phone pinged, its screen throwing up an eerie glow. While Jughead slept on, Archie’s fingers crept towards it. It would be so easy to make one phone call. So easy to dial the number seared across his heart.

The phone went dark, the barn’s walls rushed up to fill in the space. It was tight, choking the air out of this place. Archie shoved his feet into his shoes and ran out of the barn to escape it.

Three:

A knife against his throat helped put things into perspective, Archie realized. It was a direct threat to his life, an indirect threat to everyone he’d cared about. A threat that drove him further and further into the Canadian wilderness. As hard as it was to leave Jughead behind, it was a million times hard to leave his father at the border. Even with Vegas at his side, Archie’s future looked grim.

Jughead’s cell, slipped into Archie’s coat pocket at the junkyard, vibrated. Archie glanced around, unsure if he was alone in such darkness, and pulled it out. In the corner a single bar flashed, the first spot of service he’d had in hours.

He unlocked the screen only to find a text from Veronica, a jumble of words asking where they were, whether Archie was safe. Why he wouldn’t talk to her.

His vision blurred as a deep loneliness threatened to strangle him. One more reminder that he wasn’t just leaving his family and friends behind. He was leaving pieces of himself behind as well.

It was all too much all at once. He hit the call button one last time. All he needed was to hear her voice one last time to get through this. The phone rang through to Veronica’s voice, as velvet and lush as her hair, ordered him to leave a message, but he didn’t dare. He’d already put her, and himself, in too much danger by calling.

Archie shoved it to the bottom of his pack. He headed deeper into the dark woods.

It had been pure, dumb luck when he’d found the old abandoned cabin in the woods just before dawn. Wood had rotted away in some areas and weeds had grown up above the windowsill. The door with its parks ranger sign fell off when Archie tugged it open, but the inside was relatively untouched, save for the raccoons that had made a vacation home in the closet and the years of dust that covered every surface.

Archie fell into the old spring mattress, his body aching and his eyes closing of their own accord. He barely noticed Vegas nestled up against him.

When he woke, the air around him was suffocatingly hot. Dust motes danced in the late afternoon sun and a buzzing noise came from across the room. He propped himself up on his elbows, a part of his dazed mind thinking ‘wasps’, but there was nothing there. He fell asleep again and slept dreamlessly until the next dawn.

It was another two days of working to put the cabin back together that Archie remembered about the phone buried in his backpack. He’d promised to send some signal back to his father when he’d found a place to stay and this shack looked as good as any. He pulled the phone out and found that it still had a charge but no signal. A trek to the nearby creek fixed that, and as he sent out a text to his father the phone buzzed with missed calls.

Fingers shaking, Archie held the phone up to his ear to listen to the solitary voicemail.

“Please come home,” Veronica said, her voice thick and cracked. “I miss you.”

A black heaviness started in his heart until it pooled down into his feet. He listened to her voice again, another time. A third, a fourth, a twelfth. He listened to it again and again, a sickly sweet punishment for everything he’d done. For all the pain he’d put her through.

Archie listened to the voicemail until the phone warned him it was about to die. He wanted to call her again. To tell her exactly where he was. To beg her to come to him. When the phone died, he stared at the phone.

It wasn’t until Vegas began frantically barking that Archie woke up as if from a dream. He picked the axe up and headed over the hill.

Four:

His breath was shaking as he stood outside the convenience store. A car backfired and he jerked back into the payphone. The gash on his chest stung - still a raw, open reminder of his own brash carelessness - and he gasped in pain.

On the other end, the line rang. Archie held his breath, waiting for her to pick up. He wondered if she still cared, if she’d want to talk to him after two months of no contact. She’d been so adamant that they work through this, that they work together.

She’d promised him she’d keep him safe and he hadn’t believed her.

That pain hurt worse than any physical wound ever could. Reflexively he ran his hand across his chest to check that the bandages were still intact. He pressed down on the edges while he waited.

Four rings, five. And still nothing. When the phone finally went to voicemail, he squeezed his eyes shut. His hand pressed down upon the bandages, a warning flare of pain shooting through him.

“Veronica.” He breathed her name like a prayer. Standing silent, he tried to think of something, anything he could say to make it better. The voicemail clicked off, and he finally spoke. “I’m coming home.”

#varchie #varchie fanfiction

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lamourpearls · 23 days ago

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findasongblog · 5 years ago

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More album releases by Find A Song artists!

Vancouver Sleep Clinic - Onwards to Zion

Vancouver Sleep Clinic released his debut project to critical acclaim in 2014 when he was just seventeen years-old. Now--following years of major label purgatory and a concerted effort on Bettinson’s part to reclaim his music for himself--Vancouver Sleep Clinic releasef its transcendent sophomore album, Onwards to Zion, written during a period of isolation in Bali with his friends in the fall of 2018. In a purposeful departure from his forays into electronically driven song construction, Bettinson wrote much of the album on a $100 nylon guitar bought at one of Bali’s only music stores. “I’d started getting used to making three-and-half-minute songs with a beat and a hook—but the thing is that I don’t really come from making beats,” he says. “I used to busk: that’s where I came from. The whole direction of this album changed for me once I realized I wanted to put the focus back on guitar again.”

Despite the relative simplicity of its origins, Onwards to Zion bears a distinctly collagic sonic palette, encompassing everything from ethereal atmospherics to psychedelic synth tones to hazy samples of ’60s jazz-pop records. Not only a return to the self-reliance of Vancouver Sleep Clinic’s early material, Onwards to Zion also marks a deliberate tonal shift from his multi-part project Therapy 1 and Therapy 2 in 2018 “The Therapy songs mostly came from a place of frustration—just me complaining about the situation I was in back then,” says Bettinson. “When I sat down to think about the new album, I realized I don’t want my discography to reflect bitterness: I want to put something positive into the world. So even though it’s got some darkness, and it’s a bit of an emotional rollercoaster at times, the album is very much coming from a place of love. I’d love for it to leave people feeling re-energized, and ready to just keep pressing on in their own lives.” (press release)

Dylan Perkons- The Healing Day

A collection of richly orchestral songs that tell the story of an experienced songwriter finally stepping out to record under his own name. Perkons has spent his career working on various projects, honing his craft both on the road and in the studio, so while The Healing Day is his first solo outing, it represents a much longer journey.

Perkons knew early on he wanted to work with producer, Jonas Bonnetta of Ontario folk-outfit Evening Hymns, and had the privilege of recording at his secluded Port William Sound in Mountain Grove, ON. The woods were the perfect backdrop for an album that required, above all else, space. While the album was largely performed by Perkons and Bonnetta, The Healing Day also features a handful of Canadian indie mainstays like Michael Feuerstack (Snailhouse,The Luyas), Pietro Amato (The Luyas), Edwin Huizinga (The Wooden Sky), and Lisa Conway (L CON).

The album draws influence from Canadian folk songwriters that have come before him and while Perkons’ familiarity is comforting, he uses it as the foundation for his atmospheric indie-pop. The opening instrumental track feels like dawn, bringing listeners immediately into the woods before Perkons’ deep baritone breaks in, beginning the album’s tellings of imperfect, but meaningful, love. The songs move through relatable despair, knowing sometimes love must be set free in order to grow. There are also moments of reprieve where it is easy to imagine an audience singing along to the chorus in “Love Like Mine”. The album finishes with “Halfway to Winnipeg” where Perkons cultivates hope in the midst of self-deprecating sincerity.

The Healing Day is best described as layered. These are earnest, well-crafted songs, brimming with strings, french horn, electric piano and a plethora of synthesizers, creating a distinctive universe for the listener, one they will want to visit over and over again. (press release)

Foreign Television - Foreign Television

Foreign Television is the solo project of Francis Allen, a musician from Wales, UK, currently based in Moscow, Russia. This is the new, self-titled album, which will be released on October 21st, 2019. All songs are written and recorded between 2016 and 2019 by Francis Allen. Bands that have Influenced Foreign Television's sound include: Teenage Fanclub, Red House Painters, Radiohead, Mew, American Football, and The Smashing Pumpkins. The first Foreign Television album, 'Youthless', came out in 2013. The project was started in 2011, having released 4 instrumental albums as 'Snowmobile' between 2007 and 2011. The most noticeable difference between the two projects was the introduction of vocals and a new style of songwriting. A song off 'Youthless' (Olympic Christie) is going to be featured on 'Waking', a game coming out on Xbox in the next couple of months. (press release)

Portland - Your Colours Will Stain

Portland is the creative brainchild of musician and songwriter Jente Pironet. Sometime during the misty autumn of 2015, Jente collected a huge amount of song material, without a specific end purpose. Over the years, the songs were refreshed, adapted, rewritten and eventually gathered together and poured into a new creative receptacle by the name of Portland, a nod to the home of the late Elliot Smith.

After a short period of experimentation, Portland gradually began to patent a dreamy and melancholic pop sound. The lyrics are loaded with melancholy and nostalgia and the song structures are very recognisable and apt.

While Jente was completing his studies as a singer and songwriter at the PXL Music college in Hasselt, first-year student Sarah Pepels wandered down those same corridors one fateful day. The two shared the same student house but more importantly they shared the same interests and ideas about music. The ‘musical soulmates’ found each other and Portland soon became a duo. The song material was revisited and it quickly became clear that Jente and Sarah’s voices were a wonderful match. Along with Gill Princen on electronics and Arno De Bock on drums, Portland continued the search for their own sound.

The group had big ambitions from the start and set the bar high. They took part in Humo’s Rock Rally in 2016 and two years later they signed up for De Nieuwe Lichting. This Belgian radio competition run by Studio Brussels allowed the band to take a big step forward. They were crowned one of the three winners and the debut single ‘Pouring Rain’ became an unexpected success on streaming platforms. The next records ‘Lucky Clover’ and ‘Expectations’ showed that Portland meant business. The songs are all rich in dynamics and melody, while Jente and Sarah’s harmonious voices really strike a chord. A club tour sold out quickly and, in the summer of 2019, Portland was able to cross both Rock Werchter and Pukkelpop off their bucket list.

Over the rest of the summer, the band worked on their debut album with producer David Poltrock (MIA 2019 for Best Musician). While yet another heatwave raged outside, sweat was literally dripping from the walls in Poltrock Palladium (Poltrock’s own studio in Brussels) and in the DAFT studio in Malmedy too. More than 100 songs and separate ideas were carefully weighed up. There was plenty of experimentation with rhythms, types of sound and structure as some songs were split up and then put together again.

'Your Colours Will Stain’, Portland's debut album, brings together 11 tunes that demonstrate perfectly who Portland is. From stylishly arranged and dreamy indie rock (‘Lady Moon’, ‘Ally Ally’) to funky, danceable electropop (‘You Misread Me’) to pure piano ballads (‘Pearls’). From grand and epic (‘Expectations’) to shamelessly poppy (the irresistible ‘Killer’s Mind’) to fragile and intimate (‘Moonlit’). And sometimes all at once (the overwhelming ‘Deadlines’). But in every song there's these two voices, two incredible voices that pull on all the heartstrings. With ‘Your Colours Will Stain’ Portland has created a mature and confident album, one that ticks all the boxes and shows a band that's ready for the bigger stages. (press release)

Manic Carbon - The Sun Is Gone & The Moon’s Off Too

Manic Carbon is a band risen from the ashes of yesterday's internet. Its members, spread between four cities and two continents, met on a long-dead music forum in the mid-2000's. Today, they make music by sending tracks back and forth, building and improvising on each other's ideas. "The Sun Is Gone & The Moon's Off Too," the band's debut album, is a nostalgic journey that descends from the slick, brooding opener "Enter the Dreamhouse," to the sunshine pop of lead single "The Reset Era," and the sublime cloud rap of "Gimme the Dream Touch" and "Talker." The record grows darker as it progresses, ending with the fearsome and haunting "Palindrome," where vocalist Moral Reef raps from a place of nightmare. The album is sure to please fans of Superorganism, Animal Collective, Toro Y Moi, and Brockhampton. (press release)

#music #music blog #indie music #alternative music #albums #Vancouver Sleep Clinic #Onwards to Zion #Dylan Perkons #The Healing Day #Foreign Television #Portland #Your Colours Will Stain #Manic Carbon #The Sun Is Gone & The Moon's Off Too #indie #alternative #find a song

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