#I am still drawing bc it keeps me sane that’s what I live for | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shorkbrian · 4 years ago

Text

Prelude - I need to stop catching sight of poetry on my explore page lol. This is entirely self-indulgent and very specific cause I’m rotting thru life rn and so if u dislike I understand lol. When I was in the hospital this last time it sucked rlly bad and like the awful horny degenerate I was I kept thinking abt Kirishima and soft sweet Sugawara idk lol

Pairing - Death god Kirishima x Reader

Warnings - Suicide, suicide attempt, no smut. Death. Drunk Drivers. Yandere but only a little bit and cause I can’t voluntarily accept love it has to be forced bc I cannot handle the thot of someone who is sane loving me bc there is no freaking way lol

Music - https://open.spotify.com/track/5Iy1wdO0tMaHwKnfFYtlel?si=-vqod-W6SHia8ui2Hdl_9g

Adding this one bc it’s like one of my favorites and I wish god I wish and I hope that this year is better than the last amen lol also there’s nothing more sad to me than someone pleading and begging and crying for the year to treat you nicely like bitch u okay? no. the answer is no.

https://open.spotify.com/track/0xRO7EKgYKVB8zKIoiXMDD?si=HYBaiBzjRGmQwfCHgnTUxA

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“It hurts.” You had told him, as the entity sat at the end of your hospital bed.

He often sank heavily onto the nearest surface, as if his bones ached with the weight of his body. You saw him often during those first few days in the hospital, days spent puking up pills, every move you made monitored, doctors and nurses scolding you about the severity of your actions.

You didn’t think they could see the hulking figure that comforted you.

“I”ve heard that it’s supposed to.” The red god of death would think aloud.

“I don’t want it then.” Tears upon your cheeks, soft, misty. “Take it.”

“Your life?” A nod would affirm his question, but the red god would shake his head. “I am no thief. Not a hunter, simply a gatherer of souls. I won’t take what doesn’t belong to me.”

“Then it’s yours, have my life. A gift, from me to you. Don’t make me live it any longer…..”

His sadness would show in his eyes.

But the soul-crushing hugs that were provided were admittedly a tiny bit nice.

“You’re far too sweet for your own good. I’ll receive your life when the time is right, not before.”

“But I don’t want it!” You sobbed into his shoulder, the god seeming to be your only friend in the world.

Hands stroked along your back, soft shushing sounds as the god attempted to soothe you in the ways he knew how. Soft touches, kind truths. “Many don’t. But it happens - life happens anyways. All you can do is find the things that make it less painful.”

“That’s not enough, it still hurts. I can’t stand it.” The sobs wracking your body didn’t stop the entity from holding you.

“I know, and I’m sorry.”

——

He’s patient and kind.

Surprising for a god who’s work involves collecting souls as if they were taxes. A job that should be bitter and tiresome, but the entity has infinite softness resting inside of him.

He walks with you, as you get “better“.

You watch him stop to marvel at flowers, to study the way dew drips from trees in little drops, eyes wide and wondering as crows startle from their perches and take off with noisy weeping.

This courtyard is drab and brown, a prison. Safe.

Yet the god of death treats the space gently, with respect. He thanks the old walls for standing, the worn stones beneath your feet. Their service is noted and appreciated. He’s so tender it almost makes you sick.

But you come to realize that he’s simply allowing himself to be vulnerable, to experience the earth and the beings in it.

For as soon as one recognizes vulnerability, which is so different from weakness or tragedy, one experiences a sense of tenderness. Without tenderness, pleasure means nothing. You need only look at the animals to see the truth of that. It is gentleness that distinguishes their playing from the actions they constantly take to ensure their survival.

You ask why he walks with you, why he is so focused on seeing you get “better“.

A soft smile, a meeting of eyes. “There is an end to your pain, sometime and somewhere. It’s most likely not here, not in this place at least-“ and he looks around, at the cold walls, the other sick patients, the staff. All human.

“-It will come. But for now, it’s enough to try and seek it out ourselves.”

You must look more sick than you really are, talking to thin air like that.

——-

Once you return home, the red god writes you letters.

He’s an old soul, an old god. You’re sure if you asked, he’d be able to recount the very first souls he reaped, a man and a woman, sinful and sweet but in love.

The letters help you get out of bed. What new stories or little quips the god has written pique your curiosity, even when you don’t want to move, don’t want to be awake or alive.

He tells you stories about certain souls, how each one is infinitely interesting, how they all interconnect. How some of them struggle against him, however fruitlessly. But he’s not the one who brought about their death, he’s there to comfort and guide.

Other souls, (“souls like yours” he writes) welcome him, run to his arms like a long lost lover. Their death was terrifying by their own hand, and it hurt. He can’t take away that pain, those memories. The red god says he wishes those souls find peace wherever he must take them afterwards, or at least, some form of contentment.

“The meaning of life is to give life meaning, at least, that’s what seems to be the consensus.” You rip off that part of the letter, hang it on your wall by your bed. The other letters you keep in your nightstand, content with the knowledge that there are souls out there like you

It’s hard work, creating meaning for yourself.

The red god takes to visiting you between each letter, says he misses you, the way your soul cries. He tells you that he wishes he could help you quiet it, quiet that raging, terrible storm that hurls you about.

You make him cookies - it’s the only way you know how to say thank you. It’s what your mother taught you, so it may not be right, but the god eats them nonetheless. He likes it when you eat with him, feeding you bites from his cookie, wiping chocolate off of your nose, making you laugh with stupid jokes and a mouth stuffed full of cookies.

Even if some of them are too crunchy, or others too soft, all of them imperfect.

Imperfection is the essence of humanity, he tells you, and it’s more fun eating each cookie with the thought that you’re devouring your imperfections, making yourself whole again, filling up the empty spaces in your soul.

——

Eventually, the crawl back to your feet, rise with the unsteadiness of a toddler. You fall frequently, cry often, but you’re able to get up and try again.

Some days you need to bury yourself in sadness, let yourself feel and feel and hurt. Other days are not so bad, but still tinged with regret and fear and sadness.

The red god is by your side, gives you something to cling to when you waver.

He is always there.

He will be there when you meet your end.

The god is in no hurry.

You question why he wastes his time on you, hours spent reassuring you, talking to you, tucking you in your bed and leaving glasses of water on your nightstand before taking his leave.

Home is a feeling, not a place. Home is with you - that’s what he tells you. You take his breath away, even though he might not even need to breath because he’s the god of death. HIs thoughts muddle and he trips over his feet and can’t help himself from wanting to hold you.

You learn that even gods yearn for home.

He’s capable of feelings and emotions just like any other human. He may be wiser, and older, able to draw from experience and a deep well of wisdom. But he still feels, and feels deeply.

Just as he gives the earth around him such reverence, he extends that same attitude when he deals with you.

“Everything I see reminds me of you. When I wake and the sun creeps over the mountains, hesitant, it reminds me of the way that you rise - haltingly, yet it happens nonetheless. The flowers in the field that so steadily grow, you’re like ground they take root in, soft and unstable yet still tenable with the potential for growth. I don’t know, I haven’t exactly held such closeness with a human-“

He trails off, but you think you understand.

Maybe you don’t. It’s hard to relate to a god.

——

A confession occurs, and you’re surprised to learn that the blood-red god of death is in love.

“What did my hands do before they held yours? What did my heart do without all of this love? I can’t hold enough of you, I carry such love for you in my heart.”

With a frail, hopeless human nonetheless.

You don’t know what to tell him, how to explain that you can barely take care of yourself right now, meet your own needs.

But the red god seems to know, seems to understand the way your breath hitches and your eyes widen. One more hug, squeezed tight to his chest while he promises nothing has to change.

Things do change, even if you wish them not to. The world doesn’t bow to your whims, nor the death-god’s.

Innocent touches, his hand on your shoulder, patting your head, offering to rub out the tension in your back after you’ve had a crushing day - they don’t feel so innocent anymore.

The constant survellience still seemed kind, and you knew it was with your best intentions in mind that the god hovered so close, invading every aspect of your life.

But a creeping tendril of unease took hold, and you worried.

Everywhere you turned, he would be there, ready to support you, walk you through anything you wished.

Again, you questioned his commitment. Why? Why you?

“I can’t explain how fond of you I’ve grown. How heat blossomed in my chest as we grew closer. There’s infinite things I wish to say to you, ways for me to express my-my love, but I’ll just let you live.”

He neither killed you nor let you live.

Was it frightening? Maybe. But you had nothing to really live for, lost, searching for your own meaning in a big big world, floundering in an endless sea of sadness and suffering. You weren’t afraid of anything the god could, or would, do to you.

Until you woke up, not knowing where you were, in pitch black.

Arms encircling your shoulders, a soft body beneath your own, holding you tightly, a hand caressing your cheek.

A sun rose, on a strange new land, on the blood-red god gazing at you.

“There seemed to be so much more time for you. But accidents happen, Drivers drink and hearts give out. I was expecting you to grow old, for us to live and love like that, see how you grew through life.”

He looked around this new world, and you vaguely remember what had come before. A walk along the sidewalk, blaring horns, impact, blood.

“But this will be just as nice. You can stay here with me now. Life can’t cause you anymore pain.”

You don’t feel comforted by those words. There’s no way for you to know whether this new world would be better than the one you left behind.

#kirishima #Kirishima Eijirou #kirishima x reader #kirishima imagine #bnha kirishima #kirishima x you #yandere #Yandere kirishima #tw.death #tw.suicide

195 notes · View notes

lillupon · 4 years ago

Note

So, I've got a very long rant/opinion here and Idk really know how to say this without coming off kinda bad but I'm gonna say it anyways. I agree with the fact that the seventeen tag has been kinda dry lately on most fanfic places, but it's really only in the smut area. It's the sane way with other groups too I feel like. All of the nice little innocent tags are boomin to this day and thats completely fine. I think the smut tag is dry tho bc lately I feel like a few social issues (like sexualizing people and disrespecting them and their identity) have crossed over into kpop and have been ?blown out of proportion? Lately there's been a rampage of people who like to say that writing smut about someone is disgusting and is dehumanizing because people want to assume that it would make the idols uncomfortable which could equate to some morality issues on how you are reducing someone only to their body without their consent and a bunch of stuff like that. It kind of pisses me off bc this is fiction. About grown adults. Clamping down on horny people who simp over hot asian men isn't going to solve the issues we face in real life. I think a shit ton is wrong with the world we currently live in, and deciding to come after something that isn't even real bothers me. Like what does that actually accomplish. But yeah, I think thats a reason why smut has been dying down. I mean, on youtube almost every video about unpopular opinions, or things they dont like about kpop will include something about shipping idols in fanfics. And then everyone in the comment section will talk about how its all fine and dandy in moderation, but once people start writing smut it's crossing the idols personal boundaries. It's something I've been seeing a lot more often and I think people who are interested in writing smut are being turned away from it bc we've gotten to a point where people are being called disgusting for having fantasies.

Hi Anon, thank you for sending in this Ask.

I want to preface this by saying: when I write or talk about Mingyu and Wonwoo fucking on my blog, it is a fantasy. I am not speculating about what the real Mingyu and Wonwoo might be like in bed. I am imagining the versions of Mingyu and Wonwoo that I have created in my head, that exist only in my stories. None of it is real. I understand that this can be a blurry boundary for some people. But for me, the separation between fantasy and reality is well-defined. Now, on to your Ask!

You’ve hit the nail on the head with this one. You’ve also touched on many of the issues I have been struggling with myself as of late. It’s difficult to argue about morals since everyone has a different set of values, as well as different comfort levels. Some people think real person fiction (RPF) is a gross invasion of privacy. Others are fine with it. And others don’t care one way or another. There is no single answer; I can only offer my answer. Which means, of course, people are welcome to disagree with it, or parts of it.

In this essay (LOL But forreal: this is an essay), I will be sharing my experience in the k-pop fanfic community from 2014 to present, the etiquette I personally abide by as a reader and writer of RPF, as well as my stance on RPF in general.

I started reading and posting fanfics back in 2014/2015 on a website called AsianFanfics (AFF). Obviously, no one on that site had a problem with RPF, since AFF is a platform made specifically for sharing stories about Asian celebrities. For many years, I read and enjoyed RPF with zero guilt. I scribbled away by myself in my own corner of fandom and curated my own content. I didn’t interact much with other fans, readers, or writers. I didn’t have a Twitter, and I only used tumblr to reblog memes. As a result, I’ve been able to avoid a lot of anti-shipping discourse, as well as purity and cancel culture. I had no idea there were so many negative opinions about RPF. It wasn’t until I became active on the subreddit r/Fanfiction last year that I learned about all the discourse surrounding RPF.

This newfound ‘awareness’ does make me feel guilty at times—but only because after mulling this over, I still don’t think this is something to feel guilty about.

Here’s what I remember, first and foremost, when I create and consume RPF: fanfics and my favourite ships are fictional, and fiction is fantasy. This is basic etiquette when it comes to RPF, and most people in the k-pop fandom understand this. Delusional fans exist, of course, but they are not representative of the entire k-pop community.

Another point of etiquette is to keep fanfics within fandom spaces. I would never push my fics into celebrities’ faces, or go around claiming that my fanfics are accurate representations of a k-idol’s life or personality, in any way, shape, or form. I would also discourage directing ship-related questions to official accounts, or bringing them up during fansigns or other face-to-face interactions; I believe that in these instances, shipping does have the potential to strain real-life relationships.

So with basic etiquette out of the way, let me share my approach to RPF in general.

As much as we like to think we know our favourite celebrities, we really don’t. All we see is their public persona. And this public persona is intentionally controlled, managed, and curated by a team of people: directors, tabloids, editors, makeup artists, publicists, etc. How “real” are these celebrities? We are so distanced from them that they may as well be fictional.

I draw from the public persona that idols project, and I work them into my own writing. But at the end of the day, these personalities are my own interpretation. My interpretation is probably nothing like an idol’s actual personality. I just use the “public persona/character” that idols portray as inspiration for my own stories, which are set in wildly different universes.

More than anything, I think of k-pop idols as “actors” in my fic. You know how when you write an original novel, you scroll through Google images, looking for the perfect person to portray your original character? RPF is literally that, except you might build upon pre-existing dynamics and personalities.

When it comes to explicit fanfiction, two main concerns are prevalent: one of consent, and one of sexualisation.

If we argue against explicit RPF due to lack of consent, we should be willing to apply the same lens to all explicit works. How do we know that the creator of a movie, book, series, etc., is okay with us using their characters in our stories, explicit or not? We don’t. Perhaps some creators encourage fanfiction, but don’t want their lovingly crafted characters engaging in sexual acts or experiencing trauma. We just don’t know. I feel this line is even more blurred when we talk about characters from movies or TV series.

Let’s take Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, as portrayed by Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan, from the Captain America movies as an example. I am willing to bet that when people consume and create explicit fanfiction about Steve and Bucky, they are imagining Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan in their heads. I doubt many people are imagining the 2D cartoon versions of Steve and Bucky, even though they’re technically the exact same characters. Why? Well, it could be because movies are more readily and easily consumed than comics, and so people are unfamiliar with comic book Steve and Bucky. But it might also be because fans find Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan attractive. Is this really any different from RPF, where fic authors make up everything about a celebrity’s life?

When readers and writers of fanfic talk about how hot Steve Rogers or Bucky Barnes is, those comments are about Chris Evans and Sebastian Stan’s bodies. When reading explicit stories, fans are going to picture Chris and Sebastian’s bodies in their head, doing sexual things. Can we say, “Well, it’s not really you, Chris/Sebastian”, when in a way, it is?

The reality is, people are going to thirst over celebrities, regardless of whether or not explicit fanfiction exists. They’re going to post thirst tweets on Twitter. They’re going to talk to friends and strangers online about how hot [insert celebrity name here] is. They’re going to fantasize about dating and having sex with their favourite celebrity. Or, as it is in my case, they’re going to make up stories in their heads about their favourite idols dating and banging each other. People are going to do all of this without ‘getting consent’ from the celebrity. Cracking down upon and shaming writers of RPF isn’t going to change any of that.

To be honest, I’m not sure why people think it is disgusting to imagine sexual scenarios about real people. It is okay and normal to have these kinds of fantasies. I suppose the alternative is to fantasise about having sex with cartoon characters instead? It’s a very binary way of thinking to say that if you imagine/write real people in explicit scenarios, you are immediately sexualising, dehumanising, or objectifying them. There is more to dehumanisation than writing smut about our favourite celebrities. For one thing, you can love someone and appreciate all parts of them, and still want to fuck their brains out. And generally, fanfics come from a place of love—love that is not only sexual in nature.

Is it the sharing aspect inherent to fanfiction? The possibility that a celebrity might stumble upon explicit works about them? The chances are very low, I think, of the k-pop idols I enjoy writing about coming across my English fics. But I also believe in curating your own content, and that applies to celebrities too. Perhaps a celebrity should not go searching for fanfics about themselves. And of course, people should not show celebrities their fanfics, unless invited.

Another argument I hear against (explicit) RPF is, “How would you feel if someone wrote fanfiction about you?” First off, I don’t like this argument because there’s a difference between someone who decides to be a public figure versus someone who decides to remain a regular private citizen. Celebrities should and do know what they’re getting into when they choose their occupation. (This is not to say, “They are celebrities; sexualise them all you want because that’s what they signed up for.” Here, I am only acknowledging that people might have sexual fantasies about celebrities they are attracted to. Presumably, celebrities are cognizant of this.)

If someone (whose existence I am not even aware of, mind you) decides they want to write explicit fanfiction of me in some tiny corner of the Internet, I wouldn’t care so long as: (1) they don’t shove it into my face, and (2) they don’t harass me and ask invasive questions about my personal life and relationships. It’s not hurting me or negatively affecting my life, so it wouldn’t even register as a blip on my radar. When fanfiction remains within its appropriate spaces, it is largely harmless.

Now, if a k-pop idol were to ask their fans to stop writing fanfiction about them, would I? Yes, I would. However, I can’t imagine that happening. Judging by the number of ‘sexy’ concepts, fanservice moments, and variety shows such as ‘We Got Married’, I am certain that k-pop idols realise they are the stars of many fantasies—some of which are explicit in nature. Considering the prevalence of shipping in the k-pop industry, I would argue that shipping is subtly encouraged.

It’s sad that so many talented writers are shamed out of fandom, or feel that k-pop cannot be the medium through which they tell their stories, or explore their sexuality, or cope with trauma, or simply have fun. Professional works and Hollywood love their RPF—readers and writers of fanfics should be able to, as well.

As you said Anon, “clamping down on horny people who simp over hot asian men isn't going to solve the issues we face in real life” (this is a lovely sentence, by the way). The kind of person who dehumanises another and reduces them to a sexual object will do so some other way, if not via fanfiction. I don’t think the issue of fetishisation can be fixed simply by telling people not to write explicit RPF. In my experience, people who read and write RPF are more respectful and thoughtful about these things than the general public. We’ve all seen the general public say highly sexual things about celebrities in the media and to their faces, or tag celebrities in their thirst tweets. Are these things less invasive than fanfiction? Personally, I don’t think so. And in my opinion, there are more pressing and damaging issues in stan culture than fanfic.

In conclusion, I don’t think there is anything wrong with creating and consuming RPF, both explicit and non-explicit so long as we:

Remember we are writing fiction

Keep RPF within its appropriate space, and

Do not harass celebrities about their personal lives and relationships

RPF is not for everyone. There may be people who enjoy RPF, but draw the line at explicit stories. This is fine. Everyone has their own personal preferences. What is not fine, however, is attacking people for creating things you don’t like. I’m not sure what kind of moral crusade people are on and what they hope to achieve by shaming writers of RPF, explicit or otherwise. Ultimately, fic authors are writing a fantasy. It’s not real; no one is being hurt. I think it’s important for people to curate their own content, and AO3 makes it very easy to filter out explicit works and unwanted tags.

Maybe this is me trying to justify my own participation in explicit RPF—I don’t know. What I do know is that I love k-pop, and fandom is an important part of my media and entertainment experience. I adore the k-pop idols I write about, and I just want to imagine them being happy and getting lots of love and orgasms. Let a bitch be horny, goddamn…

Some bonus fun facts!

At the time I am writing this, on AO3:

26.2% of Stray Kids fanfics are rated M or E

26.3% of Seventeen fanfics are rated M or E

29.0% of Merlin fanfics are rated M or E

34.9% of Captain America (Movies) fanfics are rated M or E

40.1% of BTS fanfics are rated M or E ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

Coincidentally, I saw this post on Reddit this morning: Can we have a RPF positivity post?

#asks #my writing #fic & fandom #I keep coming back to fiddle and add things to this answer #but I think I've said all I wanted to now...

14 notes · View notes

carol-thirteen · 5 years ago

Note

idk if you still want nat angst but maybe nay and reader breaks up because natasha is scared the reader would get hurt. so then the reader purposefully gets in danger just to see nat again

hello am gonna write this bc this is a concept i can fully get behind

After your break up with Natasha, you never saw the other Avengers having gotten quite close to the group during your time together. You knew why she wanted to break up, you understood it, it even made you more certain that your caring loving feelings for her were being returned. You just didn’t want to believe that ending what you had was the answer.

Even after a week of not seeing her, it was hard. You saw her in everything. Living day to day was becoming increasingly difficult. How could you move on when anything relating to Natasha just felt so...unfinished.

She had cut off all communication with you.

“It’s for your safety!” She took a deep breath running her hand through her hair. “I only ever want you safe.” She reached to touch the side of your face, but you pulled away.

“I guess thats the difference Natalia, I only ever wanted you. If I am safe or not, as long as we are together, I don’t care what happens to me.”

“Well I do,” and with that she left, leaving behind no remenance of her presence there. Again, for your safety.

You missed her, terribly. She had taken your phone, any pictures you had probably destroyed virtually and physically. As the weeks went by, turning quickly into months, you forgot what she looked like. How bright her eyes were, how soft her lips looked...felt.

Everything was fading so quickly, you barely had time to catch up. So when you saw her face on the news that day. That day when everything was falling apart, ships were scattered not just across the city, but the entire planet, it jolted your system into action. You had to get her attention.

Despite the chaos ever expanding across the city, you dove headfirst into danger. You had to find her. If this was the end of it all, you had to see her one last time to repaint the image of her face in your mind.

Dodging people running away, your adrenaline was pumping faster than ever as you were dashing to the heart of it.

You saw a whisp of red hair. You knew you shouldn’t assume. But you followed the direction and came to a halt when a beam surrounded you, capturing you in a tube of light.

“Stark, blast at 3 o’clock, capturing more civilizans.” You heard her muffled voice amongst the rest of the muffled crashing of ships into buildings. Natasha bounced up ontop of piles of rubble, to get a better view of the section of the ship that was projecting the beam but her eyes caught you.

As your eyes met, glossy with tears that you hadn’t noticed were there, you felt your body rise. A force that pulled you upwards slowly, the tips of your boots the last to leave the ground.

She got closer, climbing up on the unstable building beisde the beam.

“Y/N, what the hell are you doing here?!” She yelled.

“I had to find you,” you yelled back, only to have her frown in response.

“What?”

“I had to find you!” you raised your voice louder, but she just couldn’t hear you.

You rose higher into the air, nothing to support you. Only her face was keeping you sane.

“It’s okay, I’ll get you down!” She yelled to you before her finger tip pressed her earpiece. “Don’t destroy this ship Stark. If it goes down- Stark?” She knocked the earpiece with the palm of her hand, then tapped the unit on her wrist. “Damn it.” She saw Tony come into view above you. When she yelled you almost felt the roughness in the volume as it ripped from her throat.

“I’ll save you!” She yelled to you.

You raised your hand, the okay sign with a tentative smile on your face. Trying to hide the fear building inside you.

Your stomachache worsened as you looked down. “Oh god.” You were really high. Really quite high. Unsupported and left flailing in mid air while-

“Y/N, look at me!” Natasha tried to pull you out of the panic that had set in. “Don’t look down. Just look at me. Please.”

You shook your head, as your breathing picked up.

Natasha started to panic, she knew once you got to deep into your head there was no getting you out, at least for a while. Stark had blasted the ship before Natasha had a chance to draw his attention to her.

The beam glitched and you dropped. You looked up as you began to fall. Only to abruptly stop when the light settled back around you. Being closer to the ground now had eased the stress that had continued to grow.

“Y/N!” Natasha lerched forward, down the pile and towards the virtual cylinder.

Another blast at the base of the origin of the light and it completely shut off, leaving you defenceless as you fell quickly towards the solid concrete you had been so focused on before.

You wondered if death would be quick, if you would lose consciousness right away or if you would be in immense pain until life everntually left you. You didn’t have to wonder long.

She was there, just in time, arms up and open. So you fell, right into her arms.

“Shhh, I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” She held you close.

“I missed you,” you breathed shakily, fingers dinging deep into her back as you held onto her.

Natasha would have liked nothing more than to reply and show you that despite it being so long, she never lost those feelings for you, but the ship was collapsing.

“Let’s get you out of here,” she readjusted how she was holding you and was straight on her feet heading for cover.

#natasha romanoff x reader #a long boi...again

92 notes · View notes

avatarsarny · 5 years ago

Text

and summer comes again

ao3

The finished version of this. How GoT ended in my head, because D&D's bad fanfic version can go in the dumpster where it belongs. For @gendrie, @gendrywatersseaworth, @gendryadempsie, and @starrynightshade, whose blogs and fics have kept me sane these past few weeks of clownery and terrible show writing lol. Thanks for feeding us so well with that good good Gendrya content throughout!

For context: In my head, everything ended similarly to the show version with some notable adjustments: Jon is not exiled to the (nonexistent) Night’s Watch; he decides against being king and goes to bring the Wildlings back down to the North with Tormund (bc the lands beyond the wall are a barren wasteland wtf) and thereafter settles at Winterfell to be Hand to Queen Sansa. Bran is made King of the 6 kingdoms as he was in the show, with Tyrion as his Hand and ruling with his council. Jaime did not turn on Brienne in the last moment, didn’t erase years of character development, and instead left to kill Cersei himself, finally realizing the disease she really was, and became Queenslayer for the good of the realm. He survives Daenerys’ attack on KL and is serving Bran in the new Kingsguard, under Brienne the Commander.

Finally, Arya does not randomly decide to become Christopher Columbarya and sail the ocean blue, erasing years of her own journey to finally be home with her family again, no sirs, she finds Gendry after the sack of KL, after she realizes what Sandor was trying to tell her to do, to choose life, and tells him to ask her again. You can guess the rest from what you read below :)

And in keeping with the pack survives narrative (bc that’s what good writing is about!! Consistency!!) the Starks remain closer than ever, visit each other often, and don’t end up alone and separated! Hope you guys enjoy.

P.S. - can you spot the Okoye reference? Definitely not straight outta black panther

“And reinforcements from the Stormlands will arrive tomorrow, Your Grace, if I’m not mistaken. Lord Buckler of Bronzegate sent me a raven saying twenty ships worth of food and supplies will be here just after sunrise.”

Bran nods in approval and looks up at the sunlight streaming in through the windows of the newly - reconstructed Royal Council solar. Daenerys’ rampage had left little of the Red Keep standing, but some of the personal chambers had remained mostly intact, so the new King and his council lived in close quarters for the past three months while they supervised the city’s recovery. There were still many injured and many more starving, so Bran called upon every Lord and leader in Westeros, high and low, to contribute whatever they could to the city’s smallfolk; who had suffered the most.

Bran glances over at the man across him. His blue eyes are bright with belonging and purpose, his dark hair is gradually breaking free of the short crop he had sported when Bran had first met him, and he wears fine leathers in same way his father and uncles had, only this time adorned with clawlike marks on the shoulders of his tunic.

The young King smiles at this observation. Stags don’t have claws. But he can think of another animal that does.

Gendry catches his gaze. “What is it, Your Grace?”

Bran’s smile grows ever so slightly. “When is my sister returning, my Lord? It’s been a fortnight since her last raven.”

Gendry sighs and looks out a window, where the city gates rise from the sea of ruined buildings far out in the distance on one end, and the azure waters of Blackwater Bay lay calm and still on the other. “I’m not sure. She said she wouldn’t leave Queen Sansa at Winterfell until she’s made sure she’ll be well protected.”

“Won’t Jon be there soon?”

Gendry blinks. “Yes - er - I didn’t know that until this morning - got a raven from Tormund. How’d you find out?”

Bran throws him an unimpressed glance. “Well I am the three eyed raven. I flew over Jon and Tormund’s group last night. They’ve settled the Wildlings in some unoccupied lands about a day’s ride from Winterfell. Sansa wants Jon to be her Hand, and it looks like Jon’s agreed to it.”

Gendry nods slowly, trying to process the King’s extraordinary statement in a way he can understand. “I’ve heard of your abilities, Your Grace, but forgive me, I’m not sure how one flies when they can’t even walk. But if what you say is true, then you can see where your sisters are, too, can’t you?” He grins then, and maybe in front of a different King he’d be punished for his audacity, but Bran is no ordinary King. And Gendry has never been one to worship the ground at a highborn’s feet.

But he’ll fight for any one of the Starks. Arya and her family time and again showed kindness and mercy to the common folk, and beneath their ferocious direwolf fangs they shared a gentleness for the innocent that Gendry had rarely seen among the rich and powerful. Even Sansa, the Red Wolf of the North, held a great tenderness concealed beneath her icy, calculating exterior, and people everywhere adored her for it.

Bran’s smile widens into a true grin, then - a feat so rare Gendry thinks he should get Grand Maester Samwell to check on their King’s health.

“Yes, I can see everything. Anything, anywhere, at any point in time. But sometimes it’s nice to put it all away for a while, and be a normal man. Or at least act like it,” he replies. “I did see Arya, by the way. It appears she’ll be staying in Winterfell for a few more weeks before she starts her journey back here.”

Gendry’s face falls, but he catches himself and hopes the King doesn’t notice. The least she could do is send a raven, but she’s been oddly silent since her last message to him, and he’s getting worried. If she doesn’t send more word soon, he’ll go off to Winterfell himself.

Bran quirks a brow at him. “Storm’s End needs someone like you, someone who will take care of the people. Your uncles left the Stormlands in such disarray, but the Stormlords are willing to follow your command. Don’t worry about my sister, she can handle herself.” He smiles serenely at the former blacksmith.

But what about me? Gendry thinks. Does she not understand that every day we’re separated feels like an eternity to me?

None of it will mean anything, if you aren’t with me, so be with me…

It will be nearly four months since Arya left to help Sansa settle into her role as Queen in the North. Four months since he last held her in his arms, since he tasted her on his lips and felt the warmth of her smile, since he saw the heat and tenderness in her gaze she reserved only for him.

She had sought him out after the Dragon Queen had stormed King’s Landing, after Jon drove a dagger through his aunt’s heart and liberated all who would come under her tyranny. She had been covered in ash and blood and he’d never felt more fear in his entire life, that he would have to watch her die like this, but she was mostly unhurt, the blood had not been hers, not all of it.

“Ask me again,” She’d rasped, coughing out grey soot and clutching at him for dear life. “I thought I wouldn’t come back from Kings Landing. I was going to die there, and I couldn’t do that to you, I had to refuse,” She whispered, tears falling from her eyes and down her grimy face. “I couldn’t hurt you.”

And oh, she had never looked more beautiful, he had never loved her more fiercely than he did in that moment, not even on that night they thought would be their last, when she had kissed him down in the Winterfell stores and made breathless, frantic love to him. “You could never hurt me, love,” he’d said, gently wiping her tears away and crushing her to his chest. “I know you don’t want to be a Lady, I’ve always known. We can go wherever you like. Do whatever you want. I’ll follow you anywhere you go, till the end of my days,” he promised, and released her so he could kneel before her in the ash and dust. “My life means nothing without my family. Please be my wife. Please be my family, Arya of House Stark.”

And with that, she’d tackled him into the rubble with all the strength she could muster, and kissed him senseless. “I love you,” She’d breathed against his lips,“I will be your family. Your - your wife,” she broke off in a quiet moan, as he moved to press searing kisses down her throat. She held his face in her hands, stilling his sweet movements to look earnestly up at him. “And I will lead by your side, Gendry of House Baratheon.”

He’d stared at her in shock, his hands coming up to bracket her own. “You - you want to rule the Stormlands with me?”

Arya smiled at him, even though it had hurt to do so and her face was bleeding. “I want to be here for the people who can’t protect themselves. I want to make our world a better place than the one we grew up in…I couldn’t save them in King’s Landing,” she’d paused as more tears tumbled down her cheeks, and he dutifully brushed them away with the pads of his calloused fingers. She would tell him about the girl and her mother, later. The little family that had saved her from the stampede, only to end up burnt beyond recognition in the end. “I have to make sure this never happens again.”

Gendry kissed her forehead, the bit of it that wasn’t cut open. “As M'lady commands,” he’d murmured, threading their fingers together. “Now let’s get you a maester.”

“I also need to teach you how to use a fork, none of those idiot lords will respect you otherwise.”

He'd laughed and scooped her up into his arms. “I’ll need all the help I can get. I don’t know any other rich girls willing to teach me.”

“Lord Gendry?” the King addresses him, drawing his attention away from the cloudless sky, out of his reverie.

Gendry starts. “Sorry, Your Grace. I didn’t catch that. I was just - thinking about how we could allocate the food to the city once it arrives tomorrow. I’m thinking we should just set up the distribution points along the docks, that way we won’t need to spend half a day hauling it all through the streets to get to everyone. Most of the needy are already down there, which makes our jobs easier.”

He said all this rather quickly.

Bran smirks. “Well, I hope this helps you see why you’re the best man for the job. You grew up here. You know the people. And you care, which is the only qualification that matters, in the end.”

Gendry turns to his King. “I still don’t know what I’m doing, not really. I know nothing of ruling or leading people, or throwing fancy feasts, or running castles.”

“But you remember what it’s like to live as an outcast, among the very worst of men, to live in the dirt and the muck, and what it’s like to go hungry for weeks on end. You want a world where the powerful protect the weak.” Bran says quietly. “My sister knows this, too. The realm could use more people like you.”

Gendry lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in. “I..well, thank you, Your Grace.” He straightens up then, and smooths out the map of King’s Landing he’d been going over before King Bran had entered the room. “Then I will give the realm everything I have to make it a better place. I won’t hesitate.”

Bran nods in affirmative. “I’ll be depending on you a lot, Lord Baratheon.”

Someone knocks on the doors of the solar just then; Ser Brienne walks through the threshold and bows her head in greeting.

“Your guest is here to meet you, Your Grace. Shall I bring them in?” Her eyes slide over to rest on Gendry, a small smile pulling at the corners of her mouth. “It’s good to see you, Lord Gendry. You look well.”

“As well I could be, Ser Brienne,” he smiles at her. He nearly admits that he could look better, much better, if only his little she-wolf were here with him, and not a thousand miles beyond his reach. But given Brienne’s fierce protectiveness over Arya, he thinks better of it. He’s not sure he could best the formidable Lady Knight in a fight, even with a hammer.

He’d only gotten two days, just two measly days with Arya, before she’d gone north with Sansa. When he sees her again (if ever, he thinks just a little sourly, for she may decide to stay in Winterfell for good, and forget about him, and marry a handsome Northern Lord who knows exactly what he’s doing, especially how to eat with proper utensils.)

Seven hells, he is pathetic.

Bran nods, his smirk growing wider than ever. “Please bring them in.”

Gendry takes this as his cue to leave, and starts gathering up his things. Maybe he’ll seek out Ser Davos and convince him to grab a large jug of ale with him. The Onion Knight always knew what to say.

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a small figure stroll into the solar, clad in a floor-length gown, with a sword at her hip.

“My King,” the young woman says softly, kneeling in front of Bran, before turning to Gendry. “My love.”

Gendry’s jaw drops to the floor, and so do the maps he holds in his arms.

He wheels around to see Arya Stark rushing forward to squeeze Bran in a tight hug.

“I missed you, little brother. Sansa is happy and safe, Jon is with her now.”

Bran seems to lighten up ever so slightly at the sight of her, a ghost of the boy he used to be flits across his normally blank features, the boy who had looked upon his warrior sister with awe and immense pride, who had wanted to be as good a fighter as she was, well before they knew what fighting really was. He wraps his arms around Arya to squeeze her back.

Gendry stands there, taking his betrothed in for the first time in months. She’s wearing a dress, Gods help him, the long skirts billow out from her waist and clings to her petite figure in a way that sharply forces him to remember he’s in the presence of civilized company, and he immediately tries to control his breathing.

Her hair is just a little longer than the last time he saw her, falling loosely down her back, save for the Northern braids woven at the crown of her head. For once, she looks like the warrior princess she is, and Gendry couldn’t tear his eyes from her if he tried.

Bran releases his sister. “I’m happy to hear. It’s been quiet here without you. Although I’m sure Lord Baratheon here felt that more than anyone.”

Arya turns to him then, raising one dark brow and raking her storm - grey eyes over him. Just as she’d done back in Winterfell, watching from the shadows as he worked the dragonglass into weapons against the dead, before she had made him hers forever. Gendry barely suppresses a shiver.

“Have I surprised you, my Lord?” She laughs, her eyes bright and glinting with mischief. “I’ll bet you thought you’d have a few more weeks of peace without me.”

Peace? He thinks incredulously. He’s felt anything but in her absence.

Gendry moves to open his mouth in a retort, but their King interrupts.

“Ser Brienne, I must go off to the upper floors and survey today’s reconstruction progress, and Lord Tyrion has called a council meeting after lunch. If you would be so kind as to take me there?”

Brienne looks from Arya to Gendry to the young King, and valiantly attempts to conceal her knowing grin. “Of course, Your Grace.”

On their way out, Bran pauses and looks to the pair still standing in the solar. “I’ll be waiting to hear all about Winterfell and how Queen Sansa is faring at dinner tonight. For now though, I suggest you take care of the pressing matter before you. See you in the Great Hall later.” He waves his sister goodbye, and Brienne hastily converts her snort into a cough as she pushes his wheelchair out the doors.

Gendry flushes beet - red as he stares after the King. Arya flashes her betrothed a wolfish grin and steps closer to him. As a girl, she’d loved to rile him up and annoy him till he’d chase her through the forest and muss her boyish locks in revenge. Now, she gets an even bigger thrill simply seeing him blush like a maiden, because of her.

She must do it more often.

“I like this,” she says, bringing her small hands up to run along the clawlike marks in his leather tunic. “What inspired this break from Baratheon clothing tradition?”

“What inspired yours?” He breathes, bringing his own hands to circle her waist, and pull her even closer. “Who forced you into wearing this?” He grins, gesturing to the garment that hugs her form and fans out from her hips, embroidered with leaves and direwolf motifs all over the sleeves and skirts.

Arya scowls just a little. “Sansa. She made it for me and ordered me to wear it on my journey home. Does my Lord like it?” She asks coyly, scanning his gaze for his reaction.

She needn’t have asked.

His eyes are dark and wanting as they travel over her form, and she suddenly feels so, so warm. Gendry, for his part, makes a mental note to send the Queen in the North a large pile of gold upon his return to Storm’s End.

“You’re always beautiful,” he murmurs, “No matter what you’re wearing. Or when you’re wearing nothing at all.” She presses herself flush against him at that, and he has to shut his eyes to keep his thoughts coherent. “I’m very thankful to your sister right now. Hail Queen Sansa, first of her name. May she make you many more dresses to wear. I’m a grateful man.”

“I’m glad. I have suffered so in this gown. At least one of us is pleased,” she quips, rolling her eyes.

Gendry can’t quite take it anymore, he moves to capture her lips with his own; he needs to taste her once again, needs to breathe in her scent of wildflowers and leather and the spring breeze of the outdoors. He’s just about to close the gap between them when she suddenly wriggles out of his arms.

Oh, Arya has to bite the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling at the utterly woebegone expression that crosses Gendry’s face as she pulls away.

“Arya,” he nearly whimpers in exasperation. He looks so forlorn that she almost loses her resolve, but she steels herself and moves away.

“Spar with me,” She asks breathlessly.

“What?” He blinks down at her, dumbstruck.

“I’ve gone four months without a worthy opponent. No one at Winterfell is good enough to best me, except perhaps Jon. And I managed to throw him on his back just before I left to come here.” She says, just a little smugly.

Gendry quirks a brow at her. “And you think I’m the one who could best you, my Lady? I’m not a soldier, as you know.”

She locks her dark gaze with his own and moves so that they’re mere inches apart, once again. “No,” She says softly, her hands come to cup his cheeks, stroking the rough stubble that grows there, “But you’re a fighter.”

He smiles at the reference, and leans into her touch. Her hands are soft and cool against his burning skin.

“Meet me in the garden courtyard later. The one with the view of the sea. Bring your hammer. But feel free to leave your leather shirt behind, as lovely as it is.” With that, she pulls his face down to her own, kissing him deeply, her sweet mouth hot and wet, melting against him and causing all sense to leak out of his mind.

Their kiss is over far too soon for Gendry’s liking, and she saunters out of the solar. “I’ll be waiting, Milord,” she says, grinning at him over her shoulder, and then she’s gone.

Gendry sighs and stares up at the high, vaulted ceiling. “I’m a dead man,” he chuckles to the empty room.

The sun is high overhead as Tyrion and Jaime stroll past the balconies overlooking the vast palace gardens. There’s a warm breeze coming off the sea, signaling the winter’s end, and the encroaching summer.

It’s enough to put a spring in nearly everyone’s step. After the wars ended and Bran was made King, peace descended upon Westeros, and people everywhere watched with cautious optimism in their hearts as the summer flowers began to bloom and the winter chills slowly faded away.

The charred remains of the Red Keep’s gardens had been replaced with exotic plants from every known part of the world, and were open to all who wished to enter, be they the poorest smallfolk or the King himself. But today, the paths and courtyards criss-crossing the greenery were mostly empty, with the rebuilding efforts taking up most of the city’s free time.

Tyrion pauses to look over a particularly scenic vantage point. “I’d say winter is well and truly over, brother.”

Jaime smirks, and nods. “Strange that the Starks, who never shut up about winter, would be the ones to end it.”

Tyrion chuckles. “I’m not in the least bit complaining.”

Jaime smiles down at his younger brother. “Neither am I.”

The relative quiet is broken then, by clashes of steel and shouts of triumph. Jaime and Tyrion throw each other bewildered glances, before starting off in the direction of the commotion.

“D’you think someone’s trying to break into the Red Keep again?” Tyrion wonders aloud.

“Just another day on the job,” Jaime drawls.

The Lannister brothers turn a corner before skidding to a halt on a landing overlooking a large circular courtyard.

“Well well! It appears our Lady Stark has returned from the North.” Tyrion pants, bending over to catch his breath. “I’m very glad I was informed beforehand of her arrival.” He deadpans. “I do love being in the know of what goes on in this city.”

Jaime squints curiously down into the courtyard. “It also appears she’s challenged her own betrothed to a duel.” His eyes widen at the sight below him.

A panting Arya Stark, brandishing that skinny little sword she refused to part with, circles a much larger - and barechested - Gendry Baratheon, who wields a warhammer and stares his future wife down, trying to calculate her next move.

Tyrion looks upon them with great interest. “It’s like looking at a pair of ghosts,” he says quietly.

Jaime throws his brother a questioning glance. “What d’you mean?”

“Look at them. Really look. Who do they remind you of?”

Jaime turns back to the sparring pair below them. And then it hits him.

“Robert and Lyanna,” he breathes. He doesn’t know how he missed it before, but now the resemblance is jarringly uncanny.

Gendry - broad shouldered and muscular, looks every bit like young Robert once did, with thick black hair that falls into trademark Baratheon blue eyes. He even wields a hammer in the same way his father did, though he’d never laid eyes on the former King, much less seen the way he’d fought.

Arya, with her dark hair falling wildly about her face, the gleam in her grey Stark eyes, and the grace with which she moves as she swerves away from Gendry’s blows with ease reminds Jaime sharply of how the late Lady Lyanna, the wild Northern beauty, had moved on horseback, with her bow and arrows.

Tyrion smiles sadly at the realization on his brother’s face. “They were a match doomed, and Robert began the war that changed the entire continent for his Lady Lyanna. But the future for these two appears much brighter. This Baratheon isn’t at all like his father, and she possesses the foresight her aunt never had. One generation had thousands die fighting in the wars they started, the next helped save many thousands more.” He says, watching them pensively.

Jaime only hums in agreement, still intently observing the pair below. The play-fight between the young couple is getting more intense by the second. Amid the flurry of steel and limbs, they’re clearly taking care not to actually hurt one another, but they’re just as certainly not going easy on each other, either.

Gendry swings his hammer at the girl with all the famed Baratheon strength he inherited from his father, but Arya is far too quick for him, and she laughs at his attempts to disarm her.

“You’re too slow,” she taunts, darting left and pretending to cut him across the belly with Needle. “Dead.” He swipes at her.

Arya dodges his blows again, then smacks her blade harmlessly against the back of his neck. “Dead again, Milord,” she grins up at him.

Gendry circles her, growling in frustration, catching her eye and nearly making her gasp at the raw desire she sees burning in his gaze.

She focuses her attention on the way his raven hair is long enough now to fall across his brow, and watches the play of muscles in his broad chest, slick with sweat, as he draws in rapid breaths and sneaks heated glances at her when he thinks she isn’t looking.

She’s missed him so much.

Her guard falls just long enough to be her downfall, as Gendry seizes her momentary pause to grab Needle from her hands and toss it aside, and proceeds to tackle her onto the painted mosaic floor of the courtyard.

Up on the terrace, Jaime and Tyrion look on in stunned silence. Arya Stark, the Princess that was Promised, the she-wolf who had slayed the Night King, taken down in a mock fight by non other than a former Baratheon bastard.

“What’s got you two so suddenly interested in the gardens?”

The Lannister brothers whirl around to see the new Master of Ships walking curiously toward them.

“His Grace is looking for you both to take lunch with him. Have either of you seen Lord Gendry? I’ve been meaning to ask the lad to come eat meals with me, he’s been looking a little - er - overwhelmed lately.”

Tyrion chortles. “Your lad has just managed to knock Azor Ahai herself to the ground in a duel, Ser Davos. It was quite a thing to see.”

The Onion Knight’s eyes widen in surprise. “So she’s back, then?” He looks down from the edge of the balcony to see Gendry pin Lady Arya beneath his arms. “I guess he won’t be eating with me, now.” He watches them wrestle with a fond, sad smile.

Jaime smirks down at the pair again. “I’m not sure this match is quite over yet.”

Gendry straddles one of her legs and lays an arm across her chest, securing her beneath him so that she can’t move from his grip. He grins cheekily down at her, pupils blown so wide his eyes are nearly as black as his hair. “You should’ve stood sideface, M’Lady.”

Arya stares defiantly up at him, before the mask is dropped completely, and she breaks into a giggle. “So I’ve heard.”

The sound of her bubbling laughter is the sweetest music to his ears. “Although I’m not sure how much smaller a target I could get than you,” he murmurs.

Their resounding laughter echoes across the deserted gardens, and while Arya’s got him distracted, she twists her hips and flips Gendry onto his back in a swift, deadly maneuver, her Valyrian steel dagger presses up against his throat in a flash.

Check and mate.

He blinks dazedly up at her, mesmerized by the way she straddles his waist, her triumphant victory gleaming in his she-wolf’s eyes. The sight brings back wonderful memories of that first night, when she’d pushed him atop those sacks of grain and made him lose himself over and over in her.

“I win,” she whispers, breathing hard, and she releases her hold on his wrists to sheath her dagger.

“You’ve won,” Gendry agrees. “Show me how you did that.”

She smirks down at him, crossing her arms over her chest, her legs still wrapped around his hips. “Not before I claim my prize,” she says, and the lilt in her voice makes his heart hammer in his chest. He suddenly remembers how long they’ve been apart. Too damn long.

“And what’s that?” He inquires softly, gazing up at her astride him.

Arya hums, innocently tilting her head and shifting her hips just so against him, and his eyes flutter shut in bliss.

Far above them, the three men watching quickly avert their eyes and turn away in varying degrees of mortification.

Jaime snickers, shaking his head. “That wasn’t a fight we were watching. That was foreplay.”

Tyrion loudly clears his throat. “Well, Ser Davos, you’re welcome to take lunch with us instead, seeing as Lord Gendry is rather occupied at the moment.”

The Onion Knight smiles ruefully down at the King’s Hand as the three of them make their way to the Great Hall. “They grow up too fast.”

Arya flicks her gaze up to the balcony overlooking the courtyard. Their adoring fans are gone.

Good, she thinks. Not that she will ever be ashamed to show her love for Gendry, to touch him freely in front of others, but this moment, here in the warm sunlight as the sea breeze ruffles through their hair, belongs to them and them alone.

She trails her hands slowly up over the hard planes of his glistening chest, biting her lip as she admires the sight of him flushed beneath her, in broad daylight.

“I missed you, love.” she admits in his ear, emitting a low gasp when Gendry reaches up to grasp her hips and press her down onto him.

He’s firm and throbbing against her belly, and the blush spreading over Arya’s face does nothing to help calm the fire coursing through his veins.

He tenderly brushes her hair away from her face. “I was afraid you weren’t coming back. That you were going to stay at Winterfell and forget me.”

She smiles softly and leans down to press her forehead against his. “As though I could ever forget you. Not even the House of Black and White could erase you from my memory. And they tried, believe me.”

He trails warm fingers against her cheeks, down to her chin, and guides her mouth to his. “My family, my wife,” he breathes against her lips, kissing her as though he were a man dying of thirst in a desert, and she’s the life-giving oasis that saved him.

Arya brings her fingers up to tangle in his hair. “Not yet,” she reminds him breathlessly between kisses. “A whole three months to go until I meet you in the godswood.”

“Aye, that’s true,” he mumbles, his tongue coaxing her lips apart and swallowing her moans, “but you’re my wife, even so. And you’ve been my only family for years now.”

Because Gendry can’t bring himself to give a shit about the ceremonies. He is hers, and she is his, and they’ve been married ever since she stumbled into his arms after the burning of King’s Landing, as far as he’s concerned.

She pulls away from their kiss to regard him with large eyes. Suddenly, Arya seems much more like a shy doe than the fierce she-wolf he’d been sparring with, and a wave of protectiveness washes over Gendry.

Arya swallows. “I never imagined I’d ever get married. I didn’t want to just be a womb for some stupid old lord to produce sons. So many women have been chained into it by our society, I didn’t want to be one of them. I never thought I’d fall in love, not before I met you.” She pauses.

Gendry nods, kisses her knuckles, and waits for her to continue.

She leans in to brush her lips against his. “You always protected me, you could’ve been a bully like all the rest but you were kind and good. I was just a scared little girl, but you made me feel less alone. You were such a stubborn bull, but you were my best friend in the whole world.” She blinks rapidly, trying to clear the tears welling up at the memories. “I would’ve died back then, had it not been for you.”

There’s a lump in Gendry’s throat. “Arya,” he breathes, and he surges forward to kiss her more fiercely than ever. “You saved me too, so many times,” he says roughly. “I never would’ve left you on your own, I should’ve listened to your distrust of the Brotherhood. After Davos helped me escape the Red Woman, I tried so hard to find out where you’d gone. A part of me did die that day, when I heard you’d been killed at the Twins. I never forgave myself for my stupidity.”

Arya hugs him close. “I’m here. I have you, now.”

Gendry holds her tight, and he’s never letting her go again. “You have me, now and always.” he promises.

Arya smiles against his mouth, and she pulls away to beam at him. “I need a bath.” She whispers, running her hands down his bare torso. “I’m very sweaty, and tired from my long journey. Help me wash, husband mine?” Her eyes grow large again as she looks at him imploringly.

Gendry moves to stand, but he keeps Arya in place when she tries to climb off him. He grips his hammer and holds his Lady in his arms, and she lets him carry her back to the Red Keep.

Hours later, Arya wakes up to the late afternoon sun streaming through the curtains of the chambers she’d lived in the last time she had been in King’s Landing, when her father was still Hand to King Robert Baratheon, and she and Sansa were still mortal enemies, back when she was still learning water dancing from Syrio Forel. Before her world and family were torn apart by Cersei, before she’d run into Hot Pie and Lommy, before Gendry had come to her aid and asked her where she’d stolen her Needle.

All of it seems like another lifetime ago, like the past few years have been a dream, like she’ll wake up any minute now, in the same bed, and she’ll be 11 again and still have a Father and a Mother, and Robb and Rickon.

Arya turns to her side; the sheets are cool against her bare skin, but she is very warm, thanks to Gendry who is wrapped around her, with his nose buried in her hair as he sleeps on.

Had she been told, years ago when they were still being hunted through the Riverlands by Lannister men, that she would be married to her stubborn Bull, and that she’d be waking up next to him in the Red Keep not as a prisoner waiting to be killed, but as the Princess (however much she loathed that title) of the Six Kingdoms and the North, and that her crippled little brother would be the Sovereign himself, she would have laughed in their face and pushed them into the dirt for spewing out such a nonsensical lie.

That Sansa would be Queen in the North, and love Arya enough to want her little sister to sleep in the same bed as her every night after they reunited, to make up for the years of lost time, the years when sisters become friends.

That she would see her beloved Jon again, her brother for always, no matter whose son he was, and that she’d see him happy at Winterfell, supporting Sansa’s rule as her most trusted advisor.

That Gendry would look at her like she’s his sun-and-stars, with gazes full of awe and love and unending hunger, instead of the grubby little girl he’d spent two years protecting, mussing up her hair and teasing her and perpetually getting on her nerves.

Different roads sometimes lead to the same castle.

Gendry shifts in his sleep, and instinctively moves closer to her warmth, securing her fully in the circle of his arms.

Arya leans back, ever so slightly, so that she can get a better view of him. She reaches out to trace a finger lightly down the bridge of his nose, over his rough, stubbled jaw, over his lips, which are still pink from her kisses hours before.

Blue eyes, bluer than the famous Braavosi canals she’d spent so long near, crack open to regard her, and the lips she’s tracing press a gentle kiss to her fingers.

“Hello,” Gendry croaks, and he stretches a little before smiling tiredly down at her. “Did you sleep well?”

Arya flashes him a satisfied grin. “Better than I’ve had in four months.”

She sighs into his mouth when he leans down to capture her lips for perhaps the hundredth time that day, but it still feels as thrilling as the first time. She melts beneath him as he rolls over to gently press her into the sheets.

He’d been feverishly attentive to her during their bath, taking care to wash every inch of her skin and pressing searing kisses all over her. His strong hands had held her hips still as she sat in his lap and washed his hair for him, trying unsuccessfully to deter her sweet, torturous movements above him, but he’d groaned in defeat when Arya reached down between them.

“Wait,” Gendry had hissed when her fingers closed around him to take him inside her. He kissed down the side of her jaw to suckle her earlobe. “Want to take care of you,” he’d mumbled, his warm breath tickling her neck, his fingers reaching between her legs to stroke her slick heat, rubbing lazy circles around her clit and sending tidal waves of sweet pleasure coursing though her.

“Gendry…” she’d tossed her head back in pure bliss as he slipped a calloused finger into her, and then another. The hot coil in her belly wound tighter and tighter as he worked her, and she whimpered against his lips as he stroked against something that made her see stars.

He’d grinned up at her. “Yes, love?”

“Gendry, I want…” she’d panted, “I want…”

He kissed down her throat, curled his fingers inside her, and suddenly the tight coil deep in her belly snapped, and Arya fell over the edge crying out his name.

Gendry laughed softly, holding her quivering body against him, helping her come back down to earth. “That?”

She’d grabbed his chin to kiss the smirk from his lips, and he instantly melted into her mouth.

“You. I want you,” she’d corrected, “I’ve wanted nothing else but the feel of you inside me and your taste on my lips for months, husband.” She admitted sweetly, and he’d never been so damn hard in his life.

He’d flushed at her confession, and gazed up at her in pure adoration. He couldn’t deny her anything, not anymore.

“As M’Lady commands,” Gendry breathed, and made love to her over and over, until they collapsed into bed hours later, utterly spent and sated.

They’re just reacquainting themselves with each other when a low growl rumbles from Arya’s stomach, and they break apart, bursting into laughter.

“And here I was, thinking I’d finally satisfied you,” Gendry sighs, pushing himself off her and holding out a hand to pull her up with him.

“Nonsense. To gratify me in the way you’re insinuating, you’d have to have me like this three times a day, every day,” Arya smiles, her eyes glittering with mirth.

Gendry’s mouth falls open at her words. “Gods, Arya. Don’t tempt me.” His hands come up to trace the scars crossing her belly, the scars he’d spent ages lavishing his attention and his warm lips upon.

She hums in reply, and kisses his cheek before leaping off the bed to pull on her breeches.

He watches her from his perch against the pillows. “What would you like to eat? I’ll go bring whatever you want from the kitchens.”

Arya pauses to pull her tunic over her head. “Thanks, but I think my brother wanted us to take supper with him.”

Gendry nods, and looks out the windows to see the sun starting to sink closer to the edge of the horizon, casting deep orange bands of light over the sea in the distance. “Then we should get going.” He climbs off the bed in search of his discarded clothing.

He manages to find his breeches and his undershirt, but his leather tunic is nowhere in sight. He turns around to find Arya holding it, she's smoothing it out on the bed, running her fingers over the jagged slashes on its shoulders, an immensely soft expression on her face.

Gendry moves so that he’s pressed up behind her, and winds his arms around her middle. “Those weren’t there originally,” he says quietly, and he dips his head to kiss the back of her neck. “I wanted everyone to know I was yours without actually saying it. I think they got the message well enough, because the other Stormlords haven’t brought up marriage proposals ever since.”

Arya turns in his arms to peer up at him with tender eyes. “I should wear something of yours, then. Make it even.” She whispers.

Gendry kisses her forehead, then her nose, then finally her lips. “Always trying to one-up me,” he teases, and dodges when she aims a smack at his head.

“You’re getting better at that, I see.”

“M’lady’s a good teacher,” Gendry quips back. He takes her hands in his own. “I’d give you my cloak to keep, but tradition says I must save it until our wedding.” He grins and tilts his head, considering her. “I’ll make you a new hilt for your Valyrian steel dagger. Make it black and yellow, if you like,” he murmurs.

Arya reaches up to plant one more lingering kiss to his lips. “I’ll hold you to it.” She smiles, and pulls him by the hands out the door.

Daylight still lingers in the sky outside as Arya pushes open the large oak doors to the Great Hall, a clear sign of winter’s final death. The days during the last few years had steadily declined in length, growing shorter and shorter until the entire world had only a handful of hours in which their candles and lanterns remained unlit.

Until the end of the Long Night, when Arya thrust her dagger deep into the Night King's frozen heart, and destroyed Death himself.

Dawn had returned to shine down upon the world, and the warming rays of the sun brought life and greenery and hope back to Westeros.

Arya and Gendry walk in to find the newly-rebuilt Hall deserted, the long tables empty, save for a few members of the Royal court on the far end. Gendry glances at her, his brows knitting together in confusion. She wordlessly shrugs at him.

“Excuse me Milord, Princess Arya,” (the Princess in question grits her teeth at the title) says a kitchen boy carrying a large platter of fruits and cheese. “His Grace wished to take a private supper out on the upper terrace. He wants you to join him there. Please follow me.”

The kitchen boy leads them up through the castle, up many flights of new stairs, until they reach an unfamiliar landing that faces two intricately carved wooden doors.

Gendry pushes them open to help the kitchen boy pass through, and they find themselves standing on a vast open balcony, high over the rest of the Red Keep, with candles and lanterns glittering everywhere as the sunset turns the sky around them pink.

There’s a single long table in the middle of the terrace, and there Bran is seated, along with Brienne, Podrick, Davos, the Lannister brothers, Samwell Tarly and his Wildling wife Gilly, and (to no one’s great pleasure) Lord Bronn of Highgarden. The young King looks up and smiles at the newcomers.

“Welcome, sister,” he pats the empty seat next to him at the head of the table. “And Lord Gendry,” he nods. “We had a bit of a change in dinner plans, so I sent Terry here to fetch you.”

Arya smiles at her brother, and takes her place beside him, and Gendry seats himself on her other side. Terry the kitchen boy sets down the enormous platter with some difficulty, and for his effort, Arya slips him a large strawberry pastry from a nearby plate. “Thank you.” she tells him kindly, and the young lad blushes furiously at being directly addressed by the Bringer of the Dawn herself, taking the sweet from her with slightly shaking hands, and he all but flees from the room.

Gendry watches the exchange with a fond smile. “You highborns aren’t so bad after all,” he concedes. Arya elbows him in the ribs, and he laughs.

The bright orange-pink of the sinking sun fades to pale purple dusk, and the candlelight casts warm glows all around the table as they all tuck into their food, engaging each other in familiar conversation over the clatter of plates and cutlery.

Halfway through the first course of creamy soup Bran inquires Arya about their sister in the North.

“Is Sansa happy, there?” Bran asks slowly. “I know she didn’t want our family separated.”

“She is,” Arya assures him, “She’s already had Winterfell and Winter Town rebuilt, and she’s overseeing the allocation of lands to the Windlings, with Jon’s help. I think,” she pauses, looking out at the city over the edge of the balcony, “I think this is what she was always meant to be. A Queen. She’s never felt more at home than she does now.”

“She was,” Bran agrees. “I try to check up on her when I’m flying as a raven. She looked happy the last time I saw her, but also a little down. I’m sure it’s because she misses you.”

“She misses you too. She worries for her little brother down South, in what she describes as a rotten nest of vipers.”

Tyrion, who had been listening in ever since their conversation turned to Sansa, now spoke up. “She wasn’t wrong, Lady Arya,” he says with a sad smile, “She’d suffered the most while she was trapped here as my sister’s prisoner. It’s because of this that I, and the rest of us sitting here, are trying our best to rid this capital of those very snakes. We want to do our part to leave that world behind us, and amend for our pasts.”

Arya looks out over the others eating at their table. Once upon a time, she would have felt in danger among them, especially with Jaime Lannister, but so much has happened since then, so much has changed, that she not only feels comfortable sitting here with them, but at peace.

With a pang, she thinks of how scared Sansa must have felt, during those years she was held in this very castle, and what horrors she went through. Arya wishes her sister could see the Red Keep now, under their brother’s rule, and how it’s nearly unrecognizable from those days when it was ruled under tyranny and greed, and the Lannister Queen’s insatiable lust for power.

“Sansa didn’t want me to leave,” Arya whispers, then. Bran gives her a small smile, for he’d known this, too. “She didn’t want me to come back down here, she’d wanted me to stay in Winterfell with her and Jon.”

Gendry puts down his fork, and Arya feels his eyes on her. “I told her, that my family wasn’t just in Winterfell. I needed to come back and watch over you here,” She tells her brother softly, and reaches beneath the table to grip Gendry’s hand. “And I made a promise, to be Lord Baratheon’s wife. I’m his family, too.”

Gendry’s heart swells, and suddenly it’s too big for his chest, and he squeezes her fingers in return.

“We know,” drawls Jaime Lannister nearby. “No one here is in doubt of that. Incidentally, when is the happy day? We’re all dying for a bit of merriment, although this afternoon seemed plenty merry for you two.” His eyes flash with a hint of a smirk over his goblet of wine.

“Were you impressed by our fighting skills that much, Ser Jaime, to watch us for as long as you did?” Arya replies coolly. Jaime’s eyes widen in shock.

Gendry nearly spits out his ale. “He saw us?” He sputters. He hadn’t merely sparred with his Lady in those gardens, they’d also… he flushes at the thought. This gods-damned castle really did have eyes everywhere.

“Oh, it wasn’t just Ser Jaime,” Arya informs him brightly. “I believe Lord Tyrion and Ser Davos were present, too.”

Gendry whips his head around to throw Davos a look that could have roasted him.

The Onion Knight feverishly shakes his head in denial. “No no, my boy, I only happened to stumble upon you two by accident, believe me lad, I had no intention of - “

Arya leans across to place a hand on the old smuggler’s arm. “It’s alright, Ser Davos. Don’t worry about it.” When the anxious expression still doesn’t leave the Knight’s face, she smiles. “Come eat meals with us from now on, Ser. Gendry doesn’t admit it, but he’s missed you these past few weeks.” She’s grown rather fond of the man who had taken such good care of her beloved Jon and her Gendry.

Gendry drops the act at once, and nods at his now-father figure. “It’s true. I’ve been so busy running between here and Stormlands, but I’d be lying if I didn’t miss your company and your considerable wisdom.”

Davos bursts out into laughter, smiling at the best Baratheon he’s ever known, after his little Shireen. “Not sure about the wisdom part, but I’d be glad to provide you with my company and bad jokes for as long as you want.”

“Still, you haven’t told us when your happy day is,” wheedles Jaime, who has since recovered from his shock and has now gone right back to being a thorn in Arya's side.

“In about three months, Ser Jaime.” replies Gendry, looking at Arya. He squeezes her fingers again, her hand so small and warm in his own. “We’ll be married at Winterfell. When’s yours?” He shoots back.

The entire table hides their grins, and even the King himself spoons more stew into his mouth to keep his expression neutral.

Brienne turns pink, and Jaime’s face bypasses it entirely to burn scarlet. Arya decides to rescue them, if only because she loves the tall, blue-eyed Lady Knight across her.

“Sansa would be happy to see you married at Winterfell, too.” She gently tells Brienne. “She misses you a lot. Come North with us when we go.”

The Kingsguard Commander looks over at her King. “If Your Grace will allow, it will be my honor to see Queen Sansa again.” She turns to cast Jaime a shy smile, “and if you have no objection to it,” she says softly.

Arya swears she’s never seen Jaime look at anyone so tenderly. “I will go wherever you go, Ser Brienne,” he says simply. “Anywhere, as long as I get to marry you, and call you mine.”

Brienne blushes as red as Jaime does, unable to keep the joy off her face. Podrick pats her hand beside her. “Your Grace, I will be happy to remain here with the other Kingsguard while Sers Brienne and Jaime go North.” He pipes up.

Brienne swiftly turns to her former squire, now a young and capable Knight whom she loves like a little brother. “But I want you to be there too, Podrick,” she says quietly. “You can’t miss your own commander’s wedding, after all,” she declares, and Podrick beams at her.

Bran waves his assent. “You may come with us to Winterfell in three months’ time. The Grand Maester and our Master of Coin will manage affairs here until our return.”

Samwell nods eagerly. “Worry not, Your Grace, Lord Bronn and I will take care of everything.” He wilts a little then, as Bronn shoots him a withering look.

“Yes yes, you all go ahead and run off to your weddings and your celebrations, we’ll do all your work for you and run the Six Kingdoms in the meanwhile,” drawls the Master of Coin. “At least the North will be paying for these things, Highgarden can’t afford to be doling out gold for parties and funding the realm at the same time.” He grumbles under his breath.

The rest of the conversation fades into jumbled words in Arya’s ears, as she leans back in her seat to watch the twilight blanket the city and the sea in the distance in purple hues, and the stars are beginning to wink into existence far above them. The night air is cool, but the numerous candles provide warmth, and the weight of delicious food in her belly is a welcome feeling after nearly three weeks of riding down the Kingsroad from Winterfell.

Arya blinks slowly, her eyelids becoming heavier by the minute. She’s not sleepy, she will stay awake and alert to pay attention to the very important discussions taking place, she’s a damned Faceless assassin for gods’ sake…

Gendry feels something small and warm press into his side, and he looks down see his wife-to-be leaning against him as though he were a particularly comfortable pillow.

Arya’s pulled from her doze just long enough to register Gendry’s arm wrapping around her. “Shall I take you to bed, M’lady?” He whispers, his breath warm in her ear, his smile clear in his voice.

She hums softly in protest, her eyelids refusing to remain open any longer. “M’ awake,” she mumbles, “M’ just resting my eyes for a while.” A yawn promptly betrays her words.

Little Arya Stark would have never allowed herself to fall asleep in the company of anyone but her family, would rather have died than expose such vulnerability, but she isn’t worried tonight. The people at this table are her pack now, too. The Lannister lions sitting nearby are tame.

This place is no longer the den of venomous snakes where her family had suffered so much. It is a stronghold that protects the ones she loves the most, her old friends and new, and as long as she lives, she will honor her promise to Sandor Clegane. She will choose her family, her life, and give everything she has to ensure their happiness. But for now, Arya Stark will rest.

Gendry presses a kiss to the crown of her head, like her Lord father used to, every night before he tucked her into bed.

During moments like these, she can swear her Father sent Gendry to watch over her in his place.

“Awake. Of course.” Gendry chuckles into her hair. “With your eyes closed. Don’t start snoring on us, M’Lady.” Arya mumbles an incoherent retort, aiming a kick to his shin with all the accuracy of a drunken archer firing arrows into the night, and her leg meets nothing but air.

Gendry now laughs in earnest, the sound reverberates deep in his chest and gently lulls her to sleep, nestled in his arms.

The others at the table smile at the sight, and take care to speak in hushed tones for the rest of the evening.

#gendrya #arya stark #arya x gendry #gendry waters #braime #game of thrones #this is how got ended for me and i refuse to think otherwise #lord n lady of storms end come thruuu #also i apologize if this is garbage #but it's better than clownery i say #anyway d&d aren't valid #my fics

94 notes · View notes

sometimesrosy · 6 years ago

Note

It‘s always funny to see how ppl are split in teams when it comes to the Blakes. Some say O was selfish when she wanted to hear him say Ily and others say B has no right to say he wanted her dead while he said part of her. I think O needs to hear him say it bc she is afraid that their bond is forever destroyed and he is the only one who gives her a connection to her non Bloodreina self. It was said that L was her home but B is more her home as I‘m not leaving w/o my brother and I have no home s2

I’d say I’m more on Bellamy’s side. I don’t really think it’s “funny” that people need to put them on sides and make another fanwar between them, but I mean, i think it’s *odd* that people feel the need to do that.

I don’t think it’s selfish that she wants him to say he loves her. It makes sense. She does still love her brother. And she was an ABSOLUTELY horrible person. She’s never done ANYTHING before that threatened the loss of Bellamy’s love, even when she beat him and treated him like crap. I mean, it’s actually a problem that she could do whatever she wanted to him and he’d still be there for her. That’s a lack of healthy boundaries. She was raised in a room and never allowed to leave, but to Bellamy, she could do whatever she wanted because he felt guilty and he was trying to keep her alive and sane. I do NOT think she’s insane, though. I don’t think she’s crazy at all. She CHOSE to do evil and it burdened her soul. That’s not crazy. She might need to hear him say he loves her, but she doesn’t get what she wants just because she wants it, which is something she’s been indulged with as blodreina, being the center of her underground universe. Kind of like she was the center of her locked-in-the-room universe on the ark. I mean she had 1000 people doing what she said in the bunker and only 2 doing what she said on the ark, but it’s a familiar dynamic, and it didn’t help her at ALL. Psychologically speaking.

And that Bellamy has learned how to live without fear and be supported by his family, he’s finally been able to stand up and say NO, to Octavia. He had to realize that even though he loved her, she went to far and she wasn’t allowed to do whatever she wanted and be approved just because he loves her.

I’m not sure why anyone would think Bellamy didn’t have a right to say he wanted her dead. Octavia did it first. She ACTUALLY sentenced him to die. I mean, she might have told him secrets to help him survive, but she put him up against her mentor, a FORMIDABLE fighter. She also sentenced Clarke to die. To an execution, with no chance to get out of it.

If she has the right to sentence other people to die, why doesn’t Bellamy have the right to say that part of him still wants part of her dead?

I honestly don’t understand fandom. How they’ll set up such sharp doublestandards and excuse their favorites of the exact same thing they condemn the characters they dislike for?

I think Octavia has EARNED Bellamy’s disappointment and loss of love. You simply CAN’T do whatever you want to people and expect them to be good to you. That is abuse. In seasons 3 and 4, I defended Octavia and said that she was not abusive to Bellamy, because she didn’t have the power to be abusive to him, but that their relationship was not healthy and she did have the potential to be abusive. Octavia season 5 was absolutely abusive. Not only to Bellamy, but also to her people. She abused her power and was a tyrant. And you don’t get a pass on that because you’re a favorite or beloved. Sorry.

Healthy boundaries are important.

I do however think Octavia is VERY important to the story of humanity being redeemed and creating a new society. Octavia REPRESENTS humanity as a whole. To be honest, last season I thought they might have replaced her symbolic place with Madi, and I was reading all these signs that they were going to kill off Octavia, and I thought she was going to be martyred, as the symbolic death of the old traumatized humanity. But instead they saved her at the last minute, and that means she was never replaced as the symbolic humanity.

Octavia NEEDS to be redeemed. Just like Bellarke managed to save humanity from destruction at the last minute, the delinquents saved Octavia at the last minute and now Octavia needs to do the hard work of REDEEMING herself.

I think it will take two seasons, but I think she will have hope again, she will have healed from her trauma enough to carry on and love again and believe again and find her essential goodness again, which she lost when Lincoln died.

So. Like. I’m still on Bellamy’s side, because Bellamy is the one who is drawing the line in the sand and saying “No. You have to be the good guy, or you cannot be a part of my family.” AND HE’S RIGHT.

But I am on Octavia’s side because I want her to be redeemed and become a good guy again.

THIS is how this show will save humanity. The character represent the larger concept of redeeming humanity. In order to bring humanity back from near annihilation, they have to bring Octavia back from the darkness.

Right now, no one has a home. And humanity did that. They killed their home. The earth is dead.

And let me tell you something else. Neither Lincoln nor Bellamy is Octavia’s home. She has to find her home IN HERSELF. Neither of them can give meaning or security or purpose. That’s codependency. She has to stand on her own two feet and make the right choices herself. Not because either of them want her to.

#the 100 #the blake siblings #octavia blake #redemption #and the soul #symbolism #humanity

18 notes · View notes

smireyac · 4 years ago

Text

fuck this year man u dont even get cute emojis in the title this time

so lemme just start by saying fuck 2020

now that we’re on the same page, lets get into it

so i dont have to explain all the reasons why this year sucked bc u just need to google 2020 and there will be a million reasons why it was TOTAL FUCKING GARBAGE...... usually when so many people collectively say a year sucked ass, i can be like “oh it wasnt *all* bad for me, personally” haha not this year!!!

its super fucking depressing to look at how hopeful and positive i was about 2020 a year ago..... ofc there was no way for me to have known it would all go to shit but i still really appreciate the tone i had set... reading over the previous reflections and seeing how harsh and negative i was @ myself made the softness of last years post super refreshing....

now i said i dont *have* to explain all the ways 2020 was shitty, but i am gonna explain the biggest reason this year was shitty for me, personally..... it might seem really small in comparison to the ways 2020 was shitty as a whole on like a global scale? but really the biggest reason 2020 sucked ass was i didnt get to really hang out with any of my friends in real life for 9 out of the 12 months of the year.... and really it was like the first week of march that shit hit the fan so like really it was only 2 months that we got to see each other....... if u rmbr p much every previous retrospective post ive made, there was a big emphasis on friends..... ive come to realize that im actually a very *extra*verted person??? despite my overall shyness and homebody attitude, i would always choose to hang out with people over being alone so stay-at-home orders FUCKING SUCKED??? when we all thought it would be over in a couple weeks, maybe a month it was fine?? hey its a good time to draw or catch up on that reading and/or writing i said i was gonna do maybe even start learning to drive?? it’ll be no big deal THEN it wasn’t over in a month and it wasnt gonna BE over anytime soon and no one important was doing anything about it and its an election year and black lives have always mattered and yet everything is so uncertain and

[inhale]

[exhale]

this year was..... a lot...... too much in fact

in 2018, i had said that i watched vox’s video on the year in 5 mins and cried... if i watched this year in five minutes, i dont think i would be able to breathe......

SO instead of making myself CRY..... lets try to think about any GOOD things that happened and think about what we can do to make 2021 good for ourselves:

GOOD THINGS THAT HAPPENED:

-i *didn’t* lose my job!! sad that so many others cannot say the same but im trying to make myself feel *better* not WORSE so i got to keep my job and i actually work more hours than before so!!

-i actually *did* learn to drive this year!!!! and im pretty good at it??? for someone that just started this year anyway?? i probably *would* have my DRIVER’S LICENSE right now if it weren’t for a surge in cases in a certain STATE that i happen to live in......... but w/e its fine i get more time to practice and im ~~**DEFINITELY**~~ going pass my test and get my license ~whenever it is that i can reschedule my dmv appt~

lmfao its so funny that last year, i was absolutely *dreading* learning to drive but i so fucking get why everyone was like ‘you need to learn how to drive’ i legit love it so much???? ive always been a car person but that was like purely for the aesthetic but now that i can drive im just....... WOOOW this really is what freedom feels like.... like ik that public transportation is amazing and i will always champion it but nothing beats being purely in control of your destination.... i also wanted to buy myself a car for my birthday even tho i couldnt really drive yet but then sien had to fix smthg on her car and it was EXPENSIVE AF and my mom was like “u dont need to buy a car yet” so i put the brakes [haha] on that... but soon... once i get my license,,, then i will have u my love................. so with that being “my most serious goal of 2020″ im glad i did it

-i was one of lucky ones and got unemployment when i couldn’t work so i have a lot of money saved in the bank??? pls no one steal my identity i wanna use that money to buy myself a car and/or for when we move out 🤞🤞 we’ll just have to wait and seeeeee....................

-i had mentioned playing dnd last year too and thats been going STRONG as hell thank goodness....... we couldnt keep playing in person but when we moved it to online, not only did we actually get to hang out a lot more, we made more friends??? introduced new people to the group?? its so good and in fact probably the only thing that kept me even a little bit sane this year......

-this is more of an honorable mention than an accomplishment but im this 🤏close to catching up with critical role and thats partially thanks to the pandemic lmao sooooo ???

aaaaaaand thats p much it lol i didnt really accomplish any of my other goals bc reasons................. but!!! as cliche as it sounds, with a light at the end of the tunnel, im confident that i can turn that all around this year.... so if 2016 was the year of change, 2017 was the year of getting used to shit, 2018 was the year of getting *too* used to shit and 2019 ended up being the year of friends, 2020 was the year of absolute shit and it doesn’t fucking count....... i learned a lot this year, biggest lesson of all is that life is short and if i were to have died at any point last year, what the fuck would i have to show for it??? so usually i end up giving a theme or name to a year after its done but this time im determined to make 2021 into what i want it to be SO i am declaring this year, the year of our lord 2021, the year of new experiences!!!! what the fuck does that mean you ask? well ill tell you!!! im gonna try new things this year!! make a very pointed effort to do things outside my comfort zone?? and for my goals this year, im going back to my old way of making a huge list of stuff u wanna do and seeing how much i can actuallly accomplish!! now i said theres a light but we really dont know when all this shit will end and life will go “bAcK tO nOrMaL” so whos to say ill get to accomplish any of it? at the same time, there are plenty of stuff on the list that i can do within the pandemic set parameters so!! lets see this list!!

2021 GOALS:

[check boxes bc there is no plain box emoji lmao]

☑️ read new books!! i’ll keep last years goal bc i didnt meet it and i have good reads now which tells me i just need to read 1.5 books a month to reach that goal!! huzzah!

☑️ watch new shows and new movies b4 u end up watching shit you’ve already seen a million times... i bought an old planner for 2020 instead of 2021 by accident but i hope it will help keep track of the movies/shows along with the books too!

☑️ listen to new music!! this years spotify wrapped was garbo it only had like 3 albums and a bunch of other shit i always listen to so i gotta fix that lmfao

☑️ write new stories!! i am comforted by the shit ive been writing for the past like 7 years but if my screenplay class taught me anything its that there are a lot of stories to tell and i got so many ideas floating around in this noggin!! instead of an arbitrary word count, why dont i say write idk 3 new stories, start to finish, in whatever medium idc screenplay, short story, comic, twine WHATEVER!! do it!

☑️ eat new food!! lmao this one seems the most silly to me but ive never had indian food, ive never had [not really anyway] korean food, i want to find new restaurants and eat new food!!! yum!

☑️ go on a road trip!!

☑️ visit some place ive never been before!!

☑️ go on a hike??

☑️ go to mexico again

☑️ ride a scary rollercoaster you previously wouldnt have

☑️ go to a club

☑️ get silly drunk fr

☑️ FUCK IT go on dates!! self date friend dates sister date cousin dates R- Romantic... dates ??? FUCK IT!!! YEAH!! DATE ALL UP IN THIS BITCH!!

☑️ learn to use blender

☑️ animate something

☑️ make a big painting

☑️ cosplay ???? AHH

☑️ learn to roller skate lmao u bought the skates and were so excited for them!!

☑️ go somewhere SUPER DARK and go see some real stars!!!!

☑️ and to top it all off, throw the airbnb house party that we’ve been talking about for MONTHS lmao

hmmmm,, i think thats a good enough list for now ?? another thing i wanted to accomplish.... that im scared to speak into existence bc then i cant back out of doing it...........and it doesnt align with the whole “new” spirit of 2021 but.......... i want to like start making apartments for rent????? like i want to have something of it to show by, if not the 8th anniversary then by the end of the year HHUFF THERE I SAID IT......... no turning back now..........

alright its almost midnight on.... whats this? its already jan. 1st??? lmao yeah fuck it i didnt keep up with anything i normally did this year who cares i made up the rules i can break them too lol

so yeah

we’ll see what this year brings us,,,,

hoo boy

#omg i talk #happy new year

0 notes

autumnhobbit · 7 years ago

Text

Story Starters Meme

I got tagged by @tantalum-cobalt, so it’s time to dust off the lines you’ve already seen bc I haven’t written in forever.

Rules: List the first lines of your last 15 stories. See if there are any patterns. Then tag 10 of your favourite authors!

So here goes. And yes, these are the actual Google Docs names of my fic drafts.

de-ageing bc audrey gets what she wants fic:

“Alfred,” Bruce says, and Alfred can hear the odd sort of deadpan panic that only Master Bruce is capable of conveying. “Help.”

How exactly it came to pass that he said these words while standing in front of Alfred in the Cave, having just stepped out of the Batmobile veritably dripping in children---precisely six of them, as a matter of fact, with all of them going in various directions---was beyond Alfred’s mental capacity or willingness at this point.

So when Bruce opens his mouth and begins to say something---whether it be a scientific or practical explanation of how he came to be in this situation, Alfred simply raises a finger. “Don’t.” He says simply.

Bruce closes his mouth with a snap.

vaguely catholic jason death angst:

When he wakes up in his coffin, Jason isn't sure what to make of it.

Of course, at first there's very little thinking, and very much screaming and crying and clawing and thrashing and begging and pleading. He hasn't really prayed in years, drifted away from it when Bruce took him in and away from the cramped, trash-filled apartment he'd spent his childhood in. But that doesn't stop him from reciting every prayer he knows, slurring the words together in mindless terror as he digs.

looooong scarletdevil nonsense:

Saturday evenings were fast becoming Matt's favorite day of the week. Well, maybe not favorite--more like least miserable. The only day he avoided going out at night was Sunday, which, as Foggy had said during a particularly bad argument, was pretty dumb. "Sorry I beat up a bunch of criminals and/or cops today, Lord, but at least I'm breaking for the sabbath!"

another “jason meets damian” thing:

Damian ducks beneath a stroke his mother swings towards his neck, parries two more thrusts in rapid succession, and with a flick of his wrist sends her weapon skittering to the tile. The tip of his own blade rests at her throat.

Her grey eyes meet his, and he feels proud at the impression he can see dancing in her orbs. "I concede," Mother says, and he pulls the blade away from her, allowing it to tip towards the floor. His mother stands gracefully. "You are making good progress, Damian. I am very pleased with how well you've done with your new swordmaster."

"Tt. It is nothing, Mother," he says proudly. It seems like forever since she has personally sparred with him like this, and he revels in the opportunity to please her. "He says I am the best he's ever trained."

sucky draft of yj installment:

"Damian. Wake up."

Damian had learned very early in his life that if anything disturbed his slumber in the League of Assassins fortress, he should be ready to stab upwards without a moment's hesitation. But he recognizes his mother's voice, so he doesn't raise the wickedly sharp blade his fingers are curling around beneath his pillow.

jason outlaws feels + domestic unrest:

The Outlaws contact them at a quarter till midnight. Bruce takes the communication when it comes in at the Batcave--he's there to re-equip and head back out, and hears the alert from the locker room. "Batman, here. What's the situation?" He tries to squelch the instinctive fear that rears its ugly head--he doesn't know where Jason is, what he's doing, if he's safe, and the Outlaws would not contact him unless it were something important.

tbh i have no idea where i was going with this but gen timdami feels sooooo:

Tim was honestly just doing his best not to freak the hell out. It was hard--very hard. He and Damian had never gotten on like he'd hoped they would, back when he'd first found out that Bruce had a son. Time had made their hatred cool off a bit. They hadn't been brothers, or even friends. Tim had hated him, suspected the worst of him at all times, and he had no compulsions to deny that fact.

Until he'd been perfectly conscious less than fifty feet from Damian when the little brat's Mother had him skewered through the torso by his own clone. Less than fifty feet away and half-heartedly struggling while Damian choked on his own blood. Less than fifty feet away while he bled out all over the street in front of Wayne Enterprises. Less than fifty feet away when he stopped breathing and died, all alone. By the time he'd gotten free and rounded the obstacles between them, Damian was a tiny corpse in Bruce's arms, Dick was in shock.

And Tim? Well, as far as he was concerned, Tim was a monster.

very old cold fluff/angst/hurt/comfort thingy ft. the robins:

See, the thing is, the suits are pretty friggin badass. They're made to withstand heat, bullets, knives, fingernails, teeth, and basically whatever Gotham's underbelly has to throw at them. (They're even pretty spiffy, too.)

One thing they're not made to withstand, however, is cold. Which is fine, until Gotham hits a cold snap of 7 below zero. Which was also fine, to start out with, because even criminals usually had some semblance of a brain, and avoided going outside when the snot froze in your nose (ha, that rhymed), after two seconds. The downside was that Freeze seized the opportunity to break out of Arkham and roam the streets without his suit. And he'd apparently gotten a slew of henchmen, off of villain craigslist or whatever the hell the criminals in Gotham used to find help. Hence, Jason was wandering through the city at some ridiculous hour, shooting henchmen while everyone else huddled inside their nice, warm houses.

Well, almost everyone.

MORE attempt at plot/hurt!Jason and Bruce:

Bruce hit the water hard and plunged beneath the surface rapidly. He stifled a yelp of pain when he hit the bottom only milliseconds after submerging, his legs folding up to take the impact and something in his hip pinching suddenly and sharply. He forced himself to maneuver his feet beneath him and push against the bottom towards the surface. He broke the water with a gasp, shaking his head vigorously to try and dislodge some of the water filling the cowl. His hip was throbbing and he was panting, but he whipped his head from side to side, anyway, searching the tank frantically. All he could see was lapping green through his night-vision lenses. "Hood," he gasped out, his voice clogged with water and fear.

No response. The water continued to ripple against the walls. Bruce kicked his legs, ignoring the screaming pain that radiated up his spine as he did so. "Hood?" He grunted again, his voice lowered to some extent for fear of being overheard by their captors. But panic was quickly overriding that concern. "Jay?!" He called again, raising his voice just a bit, becoming taut with frustration and fear. "Jason, if you can hear me, answer." Still nothing. Bruce gulped. "Jay, please."

Silence except for the lapping, dripping water. Bruce's heart was hammering against his ribs, and he was having a hard time catching his breath. He glanced around again.

attempt at plot + hurt!Jason and Bruce bc what else:

Jason woke to his head pounding and intense, burning pain in his abdomen. He felt hot and dizzy and sick. He couldn't stifle a groan as he shifted.

"Hood?" A familiar growl--close and tense but surprisingly gentle--said, and Jason tensed. He had no idea where he was, but that voice...he knew it far too well. He tried to open his eyes, and after a few moments he managed to blink them open to slits. Sure enough, he could dimly see Bruce looming over him, his jaw tense with worry beneath the cowl.

"What?" Jason croaked, starting at how hoarse he sounded, how hard it felt to draw breath.

"Lie still," Bruce ordered, and Jason froze. It still ticked him off when Bruce ordered him around as if he were still Robin, but the concealed fear in Bruce's voice combined with the pain--and having no memory of how he wound up here--made him listen. His gaze flitted from Bruce to the metal surrounding them, enclosing them from all sides. His pulse sped up without his consent.

Unnamed Jason&Bruce angst:

"You know," Jason croaks hoarsely, his throat tight with pain and his chest burning from the effort of speaking, "in our line of work, no one expects to live forever." He pauses to gulp for air that burns as it goes down, and he clenches his eyes shut at the pain the effort causes him--and at how his headache is being exacerbated by Bruce banging against the bars of the cage they're locked in, roaring threats at their captors. He doesn't seem to be hearing anything Jason's saying--he just keeps slamming his hands against the metal frame surrounding them. Jason's not even sure if he's speaking English. His posture is wound tight, and anyone even half-sane who saw him this way would turn and run the other direction as quickly as possible. Jason's never been sane, though.

“Untitled” sequel:

The rest of the League thought of him as some superhuman, repressed ball of efficiency and brutality. He never failed, never wavered, never doubted or deviated from his mission. Bruce knew that was what they saw. He'd gotten used to it.

But every once in a while, he remembered just how much of a lie that was.

the "Jay is protective of the other Robins even when he acts like he's not" fic:

Tim wasn't entirely sure what day it was, anymore. It seemed like it had been forever since he'd seen the sun--or anything, for that matter--but the brain had a funny way of dealing with stressful situations, one of them being the general weird-ness of the sensation of time passing. He offhandedly wondered if it was morning as he worked at the bonds around his wrists for the thousandth time. Still no give. At first, his wrists had stung awfully, and later they became unbearably itchy, no doubt from dried blood. Now, his wrists were numb and his hands felt large and awkward. He supposed that tended to happen when they'd been supporting all his weight for several hours at least.

the JayKara thing:

"Sooooo."

Tim was preoccupied with peering over the edge of the rooftop, using his binoculars to scan the deal going on below. He'd been working for weeks to trace the shipment of drugs to these two gangs, and find enough evidence to lock them up, but tonight his work was finally going to pay off. It didn't bother him too much that Jason was rambling behind him; he did that a lot, and Tim had gotten good at tuning most of it out. He adjusted his binoculars again and focused on one of the head mercs, who was deep in heated conversation with another head. Aaaaaany minute now...

"--you and Spoiler are...like....a thing. Occasionally. I guess."

Tim slowly turned his head. "Hmmm?" He said, a bit dumbly.

The "hurt!Jason vs. the GCPD which was supposed to be funny and sad but just wound up mostly sad" fic:

By the time Commissioner Gordon arrives on the scene, it's swarming with the fifth precinct, EMTs, news cameras, and onlookers who are barely held back by the thin, yellow crime scene tape. He hops out of the car, barely sparing the thought to lock it behind him and hope that whatever poor kid was driving has the keys. He immediately spots Bullock standing in a knot of people, only about twenty feet from the door, which is currently leaking smoke and flames and sparks out into the air with continuous gusts. There's some sort of commotion going on inside---he can faintly hear gunshots and shouts even from this distance. He draws his pistol from its holster, just in case, and jogs over to join them. There's a definite yell as he reaches them, and another gunshot. No one seems to be dodging or taking cover. He has no idea what the hell's going on.

As usual I tag anyone who feels like it or any authors who haven’t been tagged yet who’d like to share some of their first lines.

#tag games #my fic #bruce wayne #alfred pennyworth #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #cassandra cain #stephanie brown #damian wayne #batfam #batfamily #dc #writing

35 notes · View notes

flcwerstudies · 7 years ago

Text

cute tag!

pretty long post coming up!! Thanks to @cafedetude for tagging me!! im tagging: @hermiionegrcnger @studying-frenzy @belledoe @tiny-notes @theteadesk !! You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to ofc and if u want to do it and i haven’t tagged you go ahead!!

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? there must always be more milk than cereal, but that amount must not exceed a certain amount do you get me? when i scoop my cereal there has to be proportionate amounts of milk in each scoop, consistently, until i have finished my bowl. my mind is a strange and lonely place.

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? yes! its so refreshing and i feel like all your lethargy just evaporates... i love taking walks in the winter around my neighborhood in the evenings.

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? spoons, lipsticks, i once used another book to bookmark a book, hair elastic, my contact lenses case, compact mirror....im a mess, i know

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? tea: scalding hot with lots of sugar and some milk. coffee: lots of milk, so much sugar

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? no? i just want my braces off!!

6: do you keep plants? yess

7: do you name your plants? yes! i am currently growing two wild roses and I’ve named them Calliope and Polymnia.

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? journaling, writing, reenacting musicals and dramatic renditions of songs?

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? yeah ofccc it keeps me sane

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? back and side

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? CAROL THE LESBIAN LIBRARIAN // mary walks by // too many to list here tbh

12: what’s your favorite planet? mars! and also venus

13: what’s something that made you smile today? my friends

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? a hurricane flew thru the entire place, empty wine bottles on the ground, beanbag chairs, stacks of books and movies, maybe a cat and a dog lazing around on the couch

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! there’s a gigantic cloud of alcohol wayyyyy out in outer space that could produce over 450 trillion pints of beer

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? give me all the pasta. i love all pastas.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? im ok with my hair color now

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. GETTING A CAPUCHIN MONKEY AS MY PATRONUS ON POTTERMORE

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? yes! i rant a lot and i sort of write down reflections? on my day and things. its really emo and angsty lmao im 16 pls

20: what’s your favorite eye color? brown eyes. so gentle. so sharp. so kind but so cruel. so ambiguous!

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. my tote bag from myanmar! the straps are falling off but i love it so much

22: are you a morning person? depends on if i slept early enough

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? sleep, watch a movie, watch youtube, read

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? absolutely not. it always pisses me off when people are like ohhh you can tell me anything??? no i can’t????

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? my friend’s house lmao

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? my peach converse! they’re so pastel and they seem weird but converse generally go well with a lot of things

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? i don’t like gum tbh

28: sunrise or sunset? both

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? sticks his tongue out when he’s concentrating and its so cute i die everytime

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? yes but i will never ever go into detail with anyone about this lmao

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. i love socks, i like wearing weird socks except for toe socks, people who sleep with socks on are Immune to Heat and Not Afraid Of Dying?? no white socks get nasty real quick and they’re so bland, i love socks i have this grey pair with french bulldog faces allllll over it and i wear them all the time and even though people can’t see them i still get happy and tell people about my dog socks.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. HA LMAO we had just watched a scary movie so obviously we turned on my little pony and watched that for two hours

33: what’s your fave pastry? cupcakes! anything tbh i have an enormous sweet tooth

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? my dad used to go on a lot of business trips and he came back once with a huge stuffed bear from switzerland and its so fuzzy its still on my bed. it’s name is Fred and it wears overalls and it has brown fur!

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? yes to all!!

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? paul anka lmao he’s not a band but ya know

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? clean

38: tell us about your pet peeves! wHEN UR JAMMING OUT TO MUSIC AND THEN SPOTIFY JUST STOPS WORKING?? people asking me if im mad when im just being quiet and then making me mad by continually questionning me, people who will ask dumb questions (yes, there are always dumb questions. google is free and im not going to tell u the homework, it’s written on the board quite clearly u moron), racist/homophobic/ableist/ generally offensive and disrespectful people

39: what color do you wear the most? grey and navy

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? I have mismatching earrings that my grandmother got me for my birthday!

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? Fifteen Dogs by Andre Alexis!

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! the starbucks on center street it’s very Starbucks, exactly what you would expect, but I always sit in the corner spot near the windows

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? My family!

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? sitting in the sand in shell key, florida. my feet are in the water and i am watching my family swimming. I am very sunburnt but my mind is completely blank in a good way

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? absolutely

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. ofc they used a baby lion as their mascot. it’s simba-lic.

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? there’s this food in korea that’s just stir fried rice with soybean sprouts and the sprouts..... aw god....they refuse to be bitten in half and it’s so gross i hate it sm

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? darkness! and no it is different today!

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? there are scarce places to buy CD’s now but the last one I bought was Micheal Jackson’s Bad

50: what’s an odd thing you collect? bottle caps and paperclips and also pens i pick off the ground

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? my dad. any aretha franklin song

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? the spongebob one and the gif of the white man who blinks a lot....u know the one

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? i loved all of them and i want to be able to quote them in all of my speech but i dont think people have watched all of them

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? i was working on homework last night and when i was turning on my laptop to work on my project i met my reflection in the screen

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? been incredibly bitchy like damn.....i surprise myself and i really hate it

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? when people use weird shit as bookmarks, when they laugh with their eyes shut, laugh lines near their eyes, dimples, kindness, when they aren’t afraid of making eye contact with me bc i have weirdly intense eyes

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? it did not fit the mood of my day but yes i did reenact the lyrics

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? my friend diana is the wine mom but i am the vodka aunt. why?? she is infinitely more caring and kind and sophisticated and also wine gets u lowkey, calm drunk, while i, the vodka aunt, am caring, but i have a bit of a laissez faire attitude and go with the flow and ‘damn what the hell fuck it’ kinda vibe and vodka gets u sloppy shitfaced drunk with none of the sophistication that comes with wine.

59: what’s your favorite myth? icarus

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? i dont LOVE poetry but i like haikus they’re like clever one liners ha

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? I gave my friend a notebook that i’d hastily made the night before and I have received a box of pads which in retrospect is not even a stupid present bc pads are expensive

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? i drink oj when i can

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? i organize them every month bc i am ridiculous and i can’t function if my bookshelf is weirdly organized

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? pale grey almost white.

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? my oldest group of friends (TNT lmaoooo) OR YOU KNOW callixtus from volunteering holyyy. you know those people who u meet and u immediately click with?? he’s on of them magical people and he was hella funny too i miss that guy to all hell

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? small roses! peach blossoms and cherry blossoms too. one huge ass hibiscus or lotus flower as a statement piece

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? cozy and sheltered. valid excuse for not going out

68: what’s winter like where you live? terrible but i love it kinda

69: what are your favorite board games? monopoly

70: have you ever used a ouija board? NO WHAT

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea? barley, green or reallllyyyy black tea with loootss of sugar so that it makes your teeth ache

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? yeah how’d you know

73: what are some of your worst habits? expecting everyone to be on the same page

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. dedicated and brash, loud and hilarious, soft, amazing, i love them a lot

75: tell us about your pets! i dont have pets!! T-T

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? studying BUT DONT CALL ME OUT LIKE THIS OK

77: pink or yellow lemonade? pink

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? hateclub sorry

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? done my makeup for me while gossiping with me

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? pale green and yeah i did. i chose it bc i love green! and the old color was boring and i didn’t like it

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. no edges at all, soft bovine eyes , shaking leaves, crocodile tears

82: are/were you good in school? yes! it’s a source of a lot of pride for me!

83: what’s some of your favorite album art? amsterdam by nothing but thieves omg

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? oohh nahh im not planning on getting tattoos im scared of needles

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? through the woods? i used to read a lot of them but you know i grew out of them

86: do you like concept albums? which ones? not especially no

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? the drop, double indemnity, back to the future, idk there’s a lot

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? the rennaissance! it was so extra and i loved it a lot

89: are you close to your parents? yeah

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. TORONTO-soaring skyline from the highways at night near the lakeshore, the lights from the condos are like stars and its ridiculous but i also loooooveee dubrovnik in croatia and hanoi in vietnam and kaunas in lithuania and kyoto in japan.....in dubrovnik the wind blows in from the shore and at night when the lights are on in the walled city the stone glows amber. In Hanoi in the old quarter, motorbikes flash by and there’s yelling and the smell of pork skewers and there’s old buildings and new ones, huge stalks of bamboo leaning up against the walls. In Kaunas the wind is so cold and sharp and the buildings are so clean and there’s that old fortress and the tower! it’s so beautiful. and Kyoto is old and archaic but so modern it hurts and the streets are too uniform and the houses creep me out a bit bc they’re so quiet.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? i dont think so

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? i will bury my pasta in cheese just you watch

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? my hair is one style fits all bc its short

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? my friend!

95: what are your plans for this weekend? study and work on projects and homework and stress and nap and have dinner with a guest

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? no updates. we die like men.

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? isfj-t, aries, ravenclaw

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? sometime in september? it was nice!

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. put your head on my shoulder by paul anka....there’s a lot and im really lazy sorry

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? 5 years in the future, just to see where I end up

#tagged #ask games #nice!#tagged games #tag games #about me

2 notes · View notes

yatsumeunagi · 7 years ago

Text

Who’s Ready for Some Zombie AU?!

Hell knows we all need some borderline blatantly sexual Lollypop Chainsaw Massacre AU bc how far down the AU rabbit hole can we possibly go?!

TD:LR I miss Hide and we’re all in the feel hole so here’s something I had in my draft book.

Hide could barely remember the last time he’d had this much fun.

The bodies of his classmates seemed to be in a lilt of calm for once in the university courtyard, which meant riling them up would be the best choice for maximum bloodshed. A shotgun round from the 3rd floor he was on would be a good idea…there were a few extra shells in his back pocket…

“I hope you’re not going to do what I think you’re going to do.” Kaneki’s sharp, somewhat irate voice said, from somewhere around Hide’s middle. The head of ash-white hair prevented Kaneki’s head from glancing up at Hide’s ecstatic and maybe a little bit maniacal face of excitement, but as always he seemed to know what Hide’s expressions were anyway. Would he still be like that if Hide took out an eye? (The one left, anyway.)

“Nah, bud, I’m not.” Hide lies, and he knows Kaneki sees through it because he huffs out a sigh and blinks tiredly, a scrap of who-ever Hide had fed him hanging from his bottom lip. Kaneki ignored him in favor of sucking the scrap of skin back into his mouth, chewing quietly while Hide picked his chainsaw back up. It was a little low on oil, but it would get them home. On the way, they perhaps might even find a good, suitable body for Kaneki to inhabit for a few weeks and- speak of the devil, Hide catches a bare midriff of one of the lacrosse players from his Sociology class pawing at the window of the classroom Hide is in, face gashed and pallid and- typical of an undead person- in serious need of dental work and a shower, hoo boy. Hide always made sure to brush Kaneki’s teeth for him when he didn’t have a host body, so Kaneki one-upped this guy in that department.

Did Kaneki ever beat this guy in body strength though? Kaneki’s original body had been lost for a few years now, what, two or three? Hide had barely managed to bind his soul to his remaining head, preventing the virus from affecting the white-haired boy’s mind. Oh, the cussing out he had gotten for that. What am I supposed to do now, Hide, the other had snapped, crying- though Hide didn’t blame him for his hysteria- I’m just a fucking head now, how am I supposed to live without a body, you idiot?!

Calming him down had been a somewhat straightforward task when Hide laughed and told him they’d just have to find him a new body.

Hide’s thoughts were pulled away from his line of thought when the boy outside began to grunt excitedly, almost drawing the attention of the others- fingers just cracking the glass door and bloodied fingers digging in the shards. Best to keep him from injuring Kaneki’s soon-to be body, and if he made too much of a ruckus, others would be alerted. It would be preferable if he didn’t, so Hide could get Kaneki on a physical body for the first time in a month. (The last one had gotten run through with a stop sign pole when Kaneki had lost his balance from a rooftop. Hide had thought his guts would spill from laughing so hard at his best friend’s flailing body looking like a shish-kebab, Kaneki’s labored curses at him going ignored.)

Hide gingerly removed the chair holding the door shut so the zombie could stagger in before getting slugged in the head.

“Did you get it?” Kaneki asked, not needing an answer when the body slumped onto the floor next to them, into Kaneki’s field of view. The conspicuous six-pack, while dirty and a little torn, held his attention while Hide re-locked the door and covered the window with a tarp.

“Really, Hide?” Kaneki groaned, glaring at Hide after the blonde unhooked the other’s head from his belt and being brought to eye-level. “Out of all the people wandering around out there, you pick this meathead?” Hide only walked over to the downed male, setting Kaneki down on the metal plate his neck ended at, belthook and chain looping on one of the lecture-room’s wood desks. Hide had once called him a ‘keychain’, which had set Kaneki off, oh man, but it was worth it. So worth it.

“What, are you saying you don’t want to have an awesome, ripped body? I wish I could just eat my ass off, and just switch to a bodybuilder’s corpse when I got fat. Then I could eat all of that cup ramen and you wouldn’t be able to say shit.” Hide retorts, arranging the corpse in a way that suited his needs before pulling out a serrated knife, chipped from constant use.

“It has nothing to do with wanting, Hide.” Kaneki’s eye narrowed, the other empty socket almost gaping accusingly at the blonde in its own right, “You only picked him because you told me that one time that this guy- what, Satou, was hung as a horse.”

That got Hide’s mouth to snap shut.

“What, did you think I didn’t remember?” Kaneki taunted at the back of red ears, smirking. The smirk remained when Hide turned to grin back at him. “If you want to go find a patch of grass to roll in, just say so. I do have a mouth if nothing else.”

“Oh Ken, you’re nasty.” Hide deadpanned, starting to saw back and forth on the corpse’s neck, blood spurting and pooling under his knees. When the head came loose, Hide poked around in the arteries with a wary finger, making sure no parasites could worm into’s Kaneki’s plating, and into his head. If Hide wasn’t thorough, he would end up being eaten alive during a mentioned roll in the grass, or in his sleep by a ravenous undead Kaneki. His head was his only real tie to humanity.

The torso seemed clean, relatively well preserved- what, was this guy nipped, or- ah.

A single bite wound on the bicep, wrapped in a dirty bandage. Poor guy succumbed to the disease first, which if what Hide had heard about it was true, could be many times worse than being eaten alive. Hide replaced the bandage with a new one, for appearances if anything else. Next, gettting rid of the bloody clothes, and hell he is just as hung as Hide remembers from his brief try of the lacrosse club, and starting he can feel the resentful glare grinding into the back of his head.

“Aw, you know yours was always the best, babe~” Hide croons, ripping off the stained jersey from mottled skin to replace with a wifebeater from his pack. Kaneki doesn’t answer, a scowling blush on his face. The severed head of the guy Hide is dismantling is bothering him, so Hide runs his hand through dirty brown locks and picks up the lifeless thing, dropping it in the ‘burnables’ bin by the classroom door. His wordless ‘this guy isn’t what you think I think he is’ statement goes apparently ignored, but Hide knows he’s been forgiven.

“Besides,” Hide continues, crouching back down by the lean, but built body, running fingers through a dusting of chest hair, stretching his fingers to where it just coarsens on it’s way down, hinting at what lay beyond. “You know what I really what is in your handsome head, Kaneki. This is just a toy. A thing we should make use of to enjoy together, right?” Kaneki’s look softens into something like embarrassment, and Hide knows if they had been whole, sane and alive like they used to, Kaneki would have blushed profusely, and maybe even smacked him for saying something so crude. True enough, this relationship of their had never crossed the line to lovers until after Patient Zero. Having trust in one person besides yourself, committed to dying with each other, fighting to the end, brings out feelings you never knew you had. Being able to choose what kind of body type Kaneki had certainly made for a more interesting sex life, at the least.

#I wrote this like #8 months ago #I'm thinking on how I can expand and elaborate #but it's a hobby #you don't have to like it if you don't want to #Hidekane #hideyoshi nagachika #kaneki ken #tokyo ghoul

4 notes · View notes

esto-es-un-error · 6 years ago

Text

ohboyohboy

1. Your favourite fruit?

Grapes, but the ones with no seeds that are green.

2. What is your favourite memory?

I have some, this oddly specific one when i was 17 and went to my friend’s beach house. Late at night they closed all the streets with tall fences to avoid crime but my friend and i wanted to walk to the high way and around the cliffs that surrounded the beach. So we climbed many fences while the guard and his dog tried to catch us. He eventually did when we were returning home. Idk I miss all the dumb shit i did with my friend Camilo back then in the beach house.

3. Favourite gaming platform?

I’m going to say PS3 because of nostalgia, I played the walking dead game (1 and 2), the last of us and spent a shit ton of hours playing skyrim in there, i loved it so much. My brother sold it last year to get a PS4 though 😔👌

4. If you could be one character from any game or tv show for a day, who would you be?

Man probably Ame from wolf children, I wanna feel the cool transition of becoming a fucking wolf and run into the forest on four legs. My wish as a child has always been becoming either a wolf, fox or dog so it would be pretty gucci.

5. What would your life as an anime be like? Would you be a protagonist, or an antagonist? Or maybe even just a neutral character?

I would probably be an antihero. I don’t see myself as a protagonist tho. In an anime i guess I would be that villian who isn’t exactly completely evil and is “redeemed” by the protagonist but still has morally ambiguous and chaotic ways of acting and thinking.

6. Do you agree that toes should be called foot fingers?

Chaotic side of me says yes but... would I be able to live with it? Probably not.

7. Do you have any siblings?

Yea, a younger brother called José.

8. Do you prefer drawing your own art to put up or buying posters?

I wouldn’t hang my art, I keep it safe in my computer and sketchbooks though. I would prefer just buying posters.

9. Who is your favourite celebrity?

Hollywood celebrity? None. Artist? Krooked.glasses. I don’t know them personally but admire their art a lot.

10. Music or youtube?

I listen to music in youtube.

11. How do you think time travel works? What is the law behind it for you?

I have no idea, I think once you travel in time you create a new future, not the same you’re living in so you create more futures and parallels? No idea :u

12. What is bound to make you cry every time?

Raising your voice at me or making me feel dumb for not knowing something, the last one will make me dislike you.

13. SMASH OR PASS: Error sans

why would you do this to me, uhhhhh depends on how he’s drawn. But mostly pass bc most of the time he’s just not my cup of tea (gimme some flowerfell sanes tho)

I tag @dormant-not-dead bc you’re the only person i know on this hellsite. Smash or pass: kirby

somebody on DEVIETART tagged me for one of those ask games. I had no IDEA you could do that. I’m gonna put it on Tumblr instead because idk how devietart works despite having used it for 2 years.

Questions they sent me:

1. Your favourite fruit?

I’m pretty good with most fruit. I like granny smith apples, a bunch of berries, really standard stuff. 2. What is your favourite memory?

I have some pretty good ones I think. It’s hard to judge them though because a lot of ‘good’ memories I have weren’t just my happiest moments but just stuff that brought me good things later. For example ‘OH so not everyone draws? weird. so apparently I’m an artist.” I’ll just go with that one.

3. Favourite gaming platform? (For example, Laptop, Playstation, xBox, etc.)

PC/Computer. If that doesn’t count then the Wii.

“WHAT TF WHY THE WII???”

See I had one while growing up and it was a hacked Wii we got off craigslist (I still have it!) so it had nearly EVERY game that was ever released on the Wii (And two different emulators so also everything on the NES and I think it was gameboy? I forgot) and also had a looooot of movies on it. It is the console that brought me the most joy has a kid. 4. If you could be one character from any game or tv show for a day, who would you be?

If I can’t be my own self insert hmm… that’s a good question. I’m gonna limit this question more to it HAS to be a fictional character from a trademarked/copyrighted property instead of somebody’s OC. And I’m still not sure. Because sure there are characters I LIKE but the ones I like the most all are grounded characters with struggles n shit but if I were to swap bodies with one of them for a day then I’d rather do a character with power and stuff for a day because it’s supposed to be fun. 5. What would your life as an anime be like? Would you be a protagonist, or an antagonist? Or maybe even just a neutral character?

I already made the anime and it’s called Gaynote. To answer the question, I’m the protagonist on it. 6. Do you agree that toes should be called foot fingers? XD

No not really. 7. Do you have any siblings?

Two. I’m the oldest. I have a little brother and a little sister. The sister is the youngest. 8. Do you prefer drawing your own art to put up or buying posters?

I have a wall next to my bed of art I’ve drawn. Every year I redraw some of the art on it so that you can flip through the pages on the wall to see progress. The posters I put up though aren’t posters they are prints I bought from artists I like. 9. Who is your favourite celebrity?

I really couldn’t give two shits about who’s famous. Uhhh Zarla the person who made Handplates because she’s a great person, and inspired my art a lot. 10. Music or youtube?

I don’t think I even have accounts on stuff like spotify. I use youtube instead. I don’t use my phone enough at all to make purchasing Youtube Red or whatever the fuck they changed it’s name to. So yeah youtube I have a few playlists on songs on there. 11. How do you think time travel works? What is the law behind it for you?

Not exactly how I think it works in real life but I like the idea of not being apple to change what’s happened. If you go back in time and change something you just cause what happened to happen. You always went back in time. You were actually there in that part of history. 12. What is bound to make you cry every time?

This video. But only because of my headcanons. I cry about fictional stuff RARELY but that video, despite me not even speaking the language and there being no translations available, really reminded me of why those characters are so sad and why I like them. 13. SMASH OR PASS: Frisk from undertale (lmao sorry, I couldn’t think of anything else)

Depends on the au lol. I’m demiromatic/sexual so I actually cannot be attracted to somebody unless they’ve been my friend for like 5 years and I absolutely know them that well. If it’s original frisk undertale uh lol why tf is the bby flirting at me aaaa undertale is broken I need to record this.

@this-is-an-error is being tagged. For the last question, I’ll put Error sans there instead lol.

5 notes · View notes

t-shrt · 4 years ago

Text

100 q tag

no one wud read it but ima do it anyways cos fun tag by @dubblebubble

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk? more cereal than milk cos i love tht crunchy crunch

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day? LOVE

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books? receipts, pen lol

4: how do you take your coffee/tea? coffee=basic latte/hot tea, no sugar

5: are you self-conscious of your smile? sometimes, not too often tho

6: do you keep plants? no but i want to but ill be terrible at it so no

7: do you name your plants?

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings? digital art

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself? yes very it keeps me sane

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach? side/back, back esp nowadays

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends? lots lol

12: what’s your favorite planet? earth? hahahah it used to be jupiter cos i loved sailor jupiter as a child

13: what’s something that made you smile today? friend + nct + fics

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like? two separate bedrooms, a balcony, good amount of plants, separate fridge for alcohol, sizeable kitchen

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is! it rains diamonds in jupiter and saturn $$$$

16: what’s your favorite pasta dish? bolognese hahahaha im boring

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair? i just dyed my hair a darker ash brown n i quite like it ive been light for awhile

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up. one came 2 mind cos we both recently talked ab it, a longtime close friend of mine n i used to have the biggest fight where he threw me a pair of scissors n i threw him a basketball in retaliation lmfaooo it still became a running joke more than a decade later...

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it? not really...prolly shud

20: what’s your favorite eye color? i actually like brown hahah, maybe a slightly lighter shade of brown

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces. it was a gift from my parents, a simple small messenger bag with a lot of slots, brought it with me literally everywhere, during my hookups, my night outs, been stained with questionable things (its been cleaned lol!).... almost lost it in a club only to be found by a friend... it has foundation stains tho lol

22: are you a morning person? n o

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations? sleep, listen to music, watch stuff, not reply to messages

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets? no

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into? nothing rly comes to mind but im p sure ive been somewhere like tht lol

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit? LOL my adidas superstars

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor? ermm the red colored ones?

28: sunrise or sunset? hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm very good question

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing? hmm what comes to mind is the way both of us sometimes exchange goodnight msgs w nct farm emojis heheeh

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared? lol ofc....

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks. unfortunately im rly basic on socks, u wud most likely find me wearing black ankle socks or black ballet(?) socks nothing more nothing less.......

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends. a lot has happened usually during that time lol. duno which story to pick honestly hahahah. i think a memorable one might be when we were drinking n played games and we talked and talked and joked n nek min one by one we fell asleep in the same room hahah... im sure there are other stories tht might be more eventful but fr the life of me my memorys fuzzy rn lol

33: what’s your fave pastry? i love strawberry shortcakes! or mille crepes

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it? i kept a LOT hahah. prolly named a few, but nothing was too special. i think it rly reflected how i managed my relationships then, n evn yrs aftwds, like i ws always lonely n my instincts were to gain quantity cos deep down i cudnt trust ppl n cudnt get too committed lololol

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often? i wish i was cos sometimes ppl wud make pretty colorful notes, but i usually just buy ones tht i wud use cos practicality.

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now? mmmmm is it cheating if i say nct cos they cover a range of genres lmao. but their ballads i guess yeah.

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean? i mean i prefer to keep it clean, but its always really messy HAHAHA ;_;

38: tell us about your pet peeves! 1. someone rude 2. someone who doesnt know how to respect others’ boundaries 3. someone self-entitled n takes themselves 2 seriously

39: what color do you wear the most? black on black on black on black baby

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you? an evangelion ring, its the black (lilith) moon with lcl gem in it, to me i guess symbolizes my struggle with human relations, n how eva as an anime illustrated tht n the fantasy of having everyone’s consciousness merged into one--n the fact that lilith in itself (in astrology) signifies the darker side of a human being? i guess n the fact that evn if u acknowledge ur darker side u cud still use it to further urself

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving? hmmmm i guess last was a self help book, unfuck your boundaries, helped me support my need to strengthen my boundaries

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it! little rogue :) its in a small alleyway, a little quaint shop, easy to miss... small potted plants, with an amaaazing matcha latte

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with? siiigh a guy i was involved with lmfao i cut him off tho

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything? hmmmmm good question i guess lately ive been very thankful tht i could feel comfortable taking my own time and space, n accepting the positive energy others wn give 2 me. being single really, really does help evn tho id feel lonely sometimes, bc the only weight i carry is the weight of my own soul n i wn learn how to nourish that

45: do you trust your instincts a lot? very i think

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of. i have a lot HAHAHA if u were a friend of mine ud prolly get tired of them. a genuinely bad one wud be haha youre so punny lmfao

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe? nothing rly lmao if theyre healthy n someone derives happiness frm it i wudnt want it to be banned

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today? probably not lol, i mean i think i retained similar fears since i ws a kid but now obviously my biggest fear(s) would be more...specific to me

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought? its the digital age baby spotify ftw (in all srsness i wish i collected vinyls tho hh)

50: what’s an odd thing you collect? i used to collect ramune bottles lmaoooo

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them? hmmmm nah lets not do this right now lol

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far? LOL too many but i love shitpost quality memes tbh

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them? pulp fiction. i actually loved it, i think i still do, its entertainment value is kickass, havent taken the time to dissect it in any other way

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face? oh man i think it ws the dude i ws seeing lmao fk him

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point? a lot, n most of them im not proud of, cos some involves self harm

56: what are some things you find endearing in people? kindness n genuineness, someone’s courage in being vulnerable

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics? dont feel like it rn but everytime i do 10/10 will dramatically reenact the lyrics right to the guitar riffs

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why? im definitely the wine (aunt) lmfaooo im already one tbh

59: what’s your favorite myth? Eros + Psyche, Icarus and the sun

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves? i love poetry hahah...cant think of any rn

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received? id love any gift given 2 me as long as they wont harm me or anything lmao n i dont think ive evr given anything too stupid. well.. idk if this is stupid tho like i sent flowers thanking my ex for ‘helping me live’ well aft we’ve blocked each other off cos the end to the relo was js daaamn toxic lmao

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind? nope

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be? music i do spotify n im pretty particular ab organizing my playlists i guess. my books im alright with as long as theyre just stacked properly no problem

64: what color is the sky where you are right now? prolly rly dark blue cos its 12 am

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with? a lot tbh cos ive rly been focusing on stuff internally

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like? daisies, sunflowers, n baby breath here n there

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel? somber i guess maybe a tad bit nostalgic?

68: what’s winter like where you live? heeella cold not cos of the temperature itself but the winds thooo, if it drizzles evn in the slightest it feels like needles piercing through ur bones literally

69: what are your favorite board games? i like the game of life, ummm cards against humanity?

70: have you ever used a ouija board? no n never will lol

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea? the fruity kinds

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it? yea def lol

73: what are some of your worst habits? disappearing from people when i feel strong emotions

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns. they’re small but they’re so full of love, full of life, full of strength, and full of care for others, they’re the type of person who will seek their goals till the end despite obstacles and still be able to not lose their warm heart on the way. they put so much thought and care to every aspect of their life even when in the past they have been handed some bad things, and i adore them for that.

75: tell us about your pets! none :( wish i have a cat though

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t? hahahhaah

77: pink or yellow lemonade? pink!

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub? neither sometimes i think theyre weird sometimes cute sometimes weirdly cute lmao

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you? write up 24 things they love about me to stop me from hating myself

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why? white. no but if i had to id say white anyways lol cos its a blank canvas

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of. i dunno uhhhh her rounded eyes which seemed to at first glance, harbor plenty of wonder seemed to be weighted by many untold secrets, the traces of which could be found when she erupts into laughter where the wonder would manifest itself in the form of small stars in the dark of her eyes.

82: are/were you good in school? meh. i try

83: what’s some of your favorite album art? weirdly i like cigarette after sex’s one cos its so simple yet telling

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones? planning on getting an evangelion one, another heart one, a sunflower one, and prolly a ghibli related one

85: do you read comics? what are your faves? manga? naruto 4evr LOL

86: do you like concept albums? which ones? hmmm thinkin of dpr live’s IAOT

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives? lord of the rings, harry potter, one of ghibli movies lol

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy? i think impressionism is very cool evn tho i dont do it myself

89: are you close to your parents? eeeeee

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities. Melbourne is a wonderful city where many things could coexist in one--happiness and sadness, camaraderie and loneliness, hot and cold, quiet and full of life, productive and relaxed, bursting with unfocused energy yet incredibly organized, and for many reasons it’s become one of my favorite cities, and definitely my favorite to live in.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year? no plans tbh lol maybe home?.......japan? heheheh nahhh

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch? it depends lol mostly i guess drowns my pasta in cheese

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most? i always wear it down, either straight or wavy

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday? a friend of mine

95: what are your plans for this weekend? stay in most likely, do stuff

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot? 100% procrastinate lmaoooo

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house? ISTG, jkjk INFP, leo sun aquarius moon cancer rising, ravenclaw

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it? im alws meh ab hiking tbh lmao

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them. Long Slow Distance - NCT 127, Four - Sleeping At Last, idontwannabeyouanymore - Billie Eilish, Stop This Train - John Mayer, Digital Lover - Crush

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why? 5 years into the past so she’d stop focusing her life around anybody else but herself

#tag #tag meme #tags

0 notes