#SORRYYYY BUT WHY WAS HE SO MEAN TO HIM IN PARTICULAR........

[skywarpshydroflask]

having hightide spend his entire intro episode trying to come up with new slurs to call blades was certainly a choice but I'll admit it was a strong start for the character

[ghostlydahlia]

things from jatp that that make me happy, laugh, or add years to my life in no particular order:

- the whole performance of “wake up”, when julie sings “and i use the pain, because it’s part of me and I’m ready to power through it” i tear up man

- julie and the boys screaming when they first meet each other

-flynn loudly saying “demon!”

-reggie bouncing and jumping around whenever they perform

-luke raising his hand when he asks what’s in julie’s dream box

-this band is back

-julie’s reaction to the boys joining her for “bright”

-EVERY SINGLE HARMONY THAT EVERYONE SINGS IN EVERY SINGLE SONG

-now or never

-willie and alex yelling in the museum

-“the gift of dipping- it’s like we’re the same person” “just like”

-the boys shoveling food in their mouths at the hollywood ghost club and cutting right after luke says “oH MY GOD!”

-julie’s outfits and hairstyles

-alex saying to reggie “he can see you” when carlos asks if julie’s ghost friends are hideous

- “heyy disappointment” “heyy underachiever”

- “oh, she said oh. oh is what you say when you get socks on your birthday.”

-”you go little man”

-the band’s performance of “finally free”, something about it makes me so happy 

-stand tall (oof there’s a lot for this one) when julie sings “keep holding on, never look back” when alex and reggie pop up; the looks that the boys give julie when they pop up; the way that julie looks at them; julie jumping when luke pops up; reggie and julie walking up the stage playing together; alex’s and reggie’s solos; the part when reggie sings “stand talllll” and all three of them join; the wholeeeeeeee song man; carrie looking proud of julie; bobby’s priceless face; i swear every time i listen to this i get emotional

-alex’s look when he first meets willie

-”why can’t you guys just be normal ghosts? go hang out at an old mansion, i hear pasadena’s nice”

-”someone once told me that you don’t ask for permission. you book gigs by doing.”  “that was me”  “no it wasn’t” “no it wasn’t”   “yes it was”

-reggie trying to help carlos prove that ghosts are real 

- edge of great

-”it feels like the time i was fixing my amp in the rain”  “you shouldn’t- okay”

-”you know, i’m getting worried about him. he keeps forgetting that julie quit the band.”

-“you’re telling me that they made eight more star wars movies, and they killed off han solo? what kind of future is this?”  *groans and storms out*

-flynn literally being the most supportive friend that anyone can have

-julie chasing luke with her cross and basically punching alex with it

-”he’s cute, right”

-”why would you want to crossover when you can just...do this forever. there's a lot to um...like here”

-when julie looks for the boys at carrie’s house and flynn says “now here i go. can you imagine if this was cranberry juice? i don’t know about you but i’ve been a klutz my whole life” and “and i was like, what is a racoon doing in my backyard?”

-the boys mooning bobby

-“uh-oh, i think someone has a crush on julie!”

-when ever reggie and luke share the mic, they literally look like they’re the happiest they’ve ever been

-carlos trying to protect julie

- “julie and the fat ones”

- “and just because this is our last night together, doesn’t mean that we won’t be watching you from above...or...”  *looks down*

-”tell your friends”

-when ever julie wears her glasses

- the chemistry scene; it makes me think what other stupid things that the boys would do during rehearsal

- the boys high fiving each other

- “alex, no dancing”  *alex proceeds to twirl and knock over the pen jar*

-flynn’s look after she says “mama needs her eye-candy” and julie says that they left

- “but we’re not alone, because we always have each other”

- “we’re sorry” “so sorry” “we’re super duper crazy stupid sorryyyy”

- “i mean you should be at pilates! thank you for bringing us food”  *looks at the boys like she wants to kill them*

-julie and the boys jumping around when they get the orpheum call

-how julie likes to doodle

- “oh yeah, i almost forgot: stay out of my room!”

-julie’s family speaking spainish at times

- “people don’t...but ghosts do”  *now or never starts playing*; duddeeeeeee this got me so hyped up

- “i like this”

- “i love you guys”

-THE PASSION, ENERGY, AND TALENT ALL OF THEM HAVE WHEN THEY PERFORM

-THE GROUP HUG AT THE END AND THEM JUMPING AROUND

[coffeeandcalligraphy]

Holy Queen | Writing Update

Hey People of Earth!

Y’ALL. Last week I had some insane writing mojo and pumped out this chapter for MOTH WORK. If you missed the previous updates, make sure to check them out in the shiny new Moth Work tag for context! 

This chapter was *a joy* to write. I’ve had this chapter in my head since May, and it’s been one of my most anticipated writes! It’s also the start of part two of the book, which is now split up like this:

As you can see, 1-5 (or part one) belongs to Harrison and is called Eyes, and I’m hoping 6-10 (give or take) will be for Lonan. 

Today’s update is focused on chapter six, aka HOLY QUEEN.

This is the first chapter I’ve written in Lonan’s head, and it was such a fun experience? I actually added his whole POV just for this chapter lol (DO IT FOR THE TEA). Drafting this chapter only took about two days which is WILD. I mostly wrote it over a few writing sprints with @sarahkelsiwrites​ which I don’t often do because I like really taking my time with drafting, however, I think it was super helpful in forcing me to really sit down and write without a break for 20 minutes--something I’ve had trouble doing for a while. 

What’s it about?

This chapter follows Lonan wandering through Vegas, unaware of where he is and who he is. Because of this, the entire thing is written in a super disconnected state of conscious (which made it fun to play around with). The chapter starts when he stumbles into a cathedral during the early hours of the morning and meets Winona, a local woman who strikes a conversation with him. 

The writing bit: 

Like I said, I wrote this chapter almost exclusively during writing sprints! This was the least painful drafting experience for a chapter that I’ve had for this book to date, and I think this is because Lonan’s head is so much more interesting to be in than Harrison’s and that’s the TEA. This is mostly because he sees the world in a really warped way, especially because he’s so disconnected. Harrison has a consciousness to him that’s too immediate (and normal) for me to handle at some times, lol all I want is the “I could be a ghost” vibe POV character and Lonan is definitely fitting that. 

The chapter itself consists of only three scenes that all have a really strong religious element to them. Though Lonan isn’t religious this chapter showcases his struggle with the remnants of his relationship with God (with that said, if that’s sensitive for you, tread carefully with the excerpts).

The chapter itself gets its name from the Catholic prayer Hail Holy Queen. @sarahkelsiwrites​ suggested it to me because it’s a prayer of the rosary (which becomes increasingly more important throughout the chapter). I really wanted a title with a religious context, and after re-reading this one, I felt it worked well for the chapter. I modified it because I only do two-word titles for this project, and I think it works well in the context of the story. This is the prayer if you’re wondering why I chose it (cuz symbolism tho):

Hail, holy Queen, Mother of Mercy! our life, our sweetness, and our hope! To thee do we cry, poor banished children of Eve; to thee do we send up our sighs, mourning and weeping in this valley, of tears. Turn, then, most gracious Advocate, thine eyes of mercy toward us; and after this our exile show unto us the blessed fruit of thy womb, Jesus; O clement, O loving, O sweet Virgin Mary.

Excerpts:

Holy Queen is broken into three scenes:

Scene A

Lonan aimlessly wanders Vegas and approaches a cathedral where he meets Winona

Scene B

Lonan gets a ride from Winona back to her place because it’s raining and he’s been wandering through it without realizing

Things get wild 

Scene C

Lonan, finally more lucid than the night before realizes a few things: he’s in a city without a way to get back home, and he’s also! in a random! lady’s! house! He is subsequently beat up by a very angry husband

(I was supposed to enjoy this very much and instead very much pitied him my badddd sorryyyy rip eyeballs)

I’ll share a few paragraphs from the first scene. Here’s the opening paragraph of the chapter ft. Lonan being #dazedandconfused:

Lonan’s heartbeat and the church bells gong in a staccato so identical, he doesn’t notice he’s walked an hour and a half away from the motel. He doesn’t remember why he’s walking or when he started, he doesn’t remember the last time he slept or his mother’s maiden name. He doesn’t remember when it started to rain, or what rain really is, or what the water cycle looks like, or which stage he’s currently in. He doesn’t remember how many sisters he has, or the difference between astronomy and astrology. He only remembers the sequence of how to pray the rosary: ten Hail Marys, one Our Father. Hail Mary. Our Father. Hail Mary. Our Father. This is what guides him to the cathedral. Lonan isn’t Catholic anymore. He maybe never was. He can’t even remember this. He knows he’s a sinner. God will never let him into heaven. 

He’s greeted by no one when he walks up the front steps and into the foyer, and the wall clock reading 2:33AM gives him a vague inclination of why. Lonan can’t remember the last time he went to church, or if his family went to church at all, but he walks toward the pew at the front like it’s natural to him and kneels. The sanctuary lamp dangling from the ceiling flickers above the tabernacle, and the air smells like damp wood. His hands tremble in prayerful submission, but he speaks to no one—no God, no deity, no mythologized woman. The act of religion comes easily. His mother could’ve done this as a teenager. A skirt below her knees. Her blouse precariously pleated and then tucked into the waistband. Lonan knows nothing about Izzy, but she would’ve been a good Catholic. She’s just as unbelieving as he is. 

This next bit is Winona sparking up a conversation with #dazedandconfused Lonan:

The woman crinkles as she moves—it’s because of the fabric, because of her handbag. She sets all of her things down, the handbag first, and then the jacket, loosening it from her shoulders to reveal a tattooed patch of skin just above her chest. He stares because he doesn’t know where else to look—he can’t remember how mass works, so she becomes his surrogate priest.

“Are you new?” she asks. Her voice sounds like a chorus whistling.

To Catholicism? To life? To this church? To Nevada? Lonan doesn’t understand what she’s referring to, so he answers the only way he can think to: “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” She laughs, but when he doesn’t, her smile fades. “Are you lost?” she asks.

“I’m praying,” he says.

Her hair is curly and chemical red. It bounces at her shoulders, and swishes with the rosary clinging between her breasts. She wears a lace camisole and three rings on one finger, all different stones: amethyst, peridot, sapphire. Her nails match her hair and glimmer in the candlelight like blood. He studies the tattoos lining her chest—the rushed outline of a lion, the smudged glimpse of a koi fish, a star circled and pressed into her skin like a brand.

“You’re a satanist,” Lonan says. He stares at that last tattoo, the wobbly outline like she drew it on herself. 

This is one of my favourite parts of the chapter, particularly the line in the edit:

Lonan doesn’t understand why she’s asking him all these questions. Her eyes are blue, and her roots are growing back in—a dull brown instead of the hot red. She smiles like his mother, and rests her elbow against the edge of the pew. He stares as she adjusts the elastic of her camisole back over her shoulder, and follows his gaze like she’s expected this.

“I can’t remember.”

He can’t feel his tongue. He can’t feel his heartbeat. He can’t remember how he got like this—if it’s all an illusion, or if someone has cast a curse that’s made him this way. He doesn’t remember if this woman is supposed to be good looking—he’s only distracted by her fingernails, her tattoos, the stack of rings on her single index finger. He reminds her of someone but no one in particular—maybe just women, his mother, his ex-girlfriends, his unknown sisters.

The next one has so? much? symbolism? I am English class:

He doesn’t know why he gets up or when, just that he ends up at the altar. A bible sits on a gold mount, and he fingers the pages, smoothing the ink until it transfers onto his thumb. He doesn’t understand how to read the words—he doesn’t remember how literate he is, just that the ink transfers. He brings the blackened thumb to his face and presses it into his cheek, and if it weren’t for the sudden touch at his back, he’d forget about the woman at the pew.

“Are you a journalist?” she asks. Lonan smooths his finger again over the page, erasing words like father, lie, unnatural, flesh. The words don’t move as much as he wants them to—they don’t reorder even when he begs them to. He isn’t religious and never has been, but at the altar he wants nothing more than God’s forgiveness.

“My father is a journalist,” he lies. His father is dead, he means. His father is the Satanist. “Adam.”

“That’s your father?”

“My name.”

He can’t remember why the woman has removed her jacket. He turns to look at her.

“Are you supposed to be here?” He doesn’t know why he asks this. It just tumbles out of his mouth like his fake cover story, his fake name, the fake words smudged under his fingernails.

“We’re all supposed to be here. I’m Winona.”

“What city is this?”

She leans against the altar, closer to him. She smells like jasmine and vanilla. Moonlight pools through the skylight above her and carves out her outline. This is what distracts him from noticing the hand she slides against his shoulder.

“Vegas. I’m a local. Are you sure you aren’t a journalist? All the high school kids keep insisting this place is haunted. You’re trying to get a story?”

“I don’t believe in God.” Lonan stares at the moon from the skylight. The rain blurring it like organic pointillism. Her fingertips bleed through the jacket, not his jacket—Harrison’s jacket. The thought makes him flinch. “Do you believe in God?”

She chews her lip. “Is that a trick question?”

Lonan turns away from her and the Bible, descending the stairs back toward the pew.

“Why did you come to the church?” she says, her voice growing quieter and quieter the closer he gets to the exit. “If you didn’t believe in God?” He hears her shuffle to grab her things and catch up with him, and he lets her, slowing down until she reaches a half step behind him.

“I wanted to make sure,” he says. 

That’s it for this update! Writing this chapter really sparked my love for this project again, and I’m excited to see where it goes from here because I’ve basically run out of pre-planned beats to hit! I’m almost at 25k, which is also very exciting!

Thanks for reading, pals!!

--Rachel

[tinderthecity]

The Mountaineer

I’m not sure if this blog is a catalog of my dating escapades over the years or a catalog of the most influential dating apps as time goes by, but I guess one thing stays the same, dating apps and I are perpetually on this journey together! (slow clap).

This time, Hinge is the app of choice. A little background information on Hinge, for those of your lucky enough to be unfamiliar with dating app particulars, this one has you provide six pictures as well as the answers to three questions of your choosing from a pool of questions the app provides. You are then asked your age, height, area you live in, and you can also provide some more particulars like school, religious affiliation, if you drink, smoke cigs or pot, do drugs, have children, want children, etc.

Relevant side note: Recently a coworker of mine sent me a link to an article with her subtitle “your kinda guy.” The article was titled “I am a Pacific Northwest Man on Tinder and I will Die if I Go Indoors.” It’s hysterical and exposing the great outdoorsman facade that can become all too trendy on dating apps.

From the article:

“‘Being inside’ is for the weak, the tired, the cold, the hungry, the ‘people with homes,’ the ‘quaints.’ I’m not interested in those who cozy up with Netflix or enjoy going to restaurants or movies. Everything you could possibly need to survive, thrive, and entertain yourself exists in The Great Outdoors. You like sitting down on a comfortable couch? Gross. You like buying groceries in a store? Disgusting. If I am not constantly in some situation under the sun where my life is potentially in danger, I’m not about it. I get off on adrenaline. And nature.”

“My first three profile pics are from epic outdoor activities which showcase a level of fitness you couldn’t even begin to rival. The next three pics are of the exact same thing. The next one is a total thirst trap, which means something different when you’re just dehydrated all the time. The last photo is of a mountain that really gets me fired the fuck up. My face is blurry in each shot because I am Always. In. Motion.”

Lol you get the point (check out the full article for more linked at the bottom, it’s worth it). I died of laughter while also feeling entirely seen. I’m not a dating app girl who falls for the models or the guys on yachts who dress like fancy businessmen or have tons of photos at rooftop bars or are listed as working high-profile jobs. Ask any of my close friends and they’ll tell you that my thirst traps are the guys who seem down to earth (literally) and like to spend time outside, traveling, hiking, etc. 

It was after reading this article that I was able to put my last date into context as to why I was so excited and why it was so terribly bad. 

The Mountaineer liked me on Hinge and I immediately thought he was pretty cute, loved his answer to the question “I’m looking for....” “Someone who is upfront and honest about what they are thinking and feeling,” (swoon) and his pictures, which, you guessed it.. were all outdoors.   

Unfortunately, he lived in Long Island and liked me about a week before Christmas, when I would be going home for about a 10 day span, and afterward he would be gone for a long weekend. We decided we would just chat in the meantime, so we did, everyday. We talked about all sorts of things, but tbh he did talk/ask a lot about hiking haha.

When we could finally meet up after almost three weeks of talking, we decided he would come into the city on a Saturday and we could hit a museum and grab dinner. I chose the Natural History Museum for us to check out because he hadn’t been yet and I know it never disappoints.

The day before our date, the Mountaineer asked me if I’ll be meeting him at his train station. I live in the 150s, the museum is on 79th and his train would be pulling him into 34th. I told him we could meet at the museum since it’s in the middle. He said he didn’t like taking subways alone (interesting, Mr. Adventure) so he would walk from 34th to 79th (about a 45 min walk). Then he realized it was going to rain on Saturday and said he would walk in the rain, to which I told him (trying to be an accommodating Manhattanite) I could just meet him at 34th and take the train with him up to the museum if that’s the case.

The day of comes, it’s a bit rainy outside, as expected, and I get a text from the Mountaineer asking if we should move our date because of the rain (..really?). I basically said no but it’s up to you.

We decide to meet, I go down to 34th street to meet him. I’m running a few minutes late and of course those are the days when train delays hit.

Me: hey I’m on the express but I’m hitting some delays, 😑I’m going to be a little late, sorryyyy

Him: tsk tsk I’m quite disappointed already 😔

Me: 🙃🙃🙃

Him: Oh that’s cute, you think I’m joking

*wow, bold double dig move for not having met yet*

Me: I can just switch to the uptown train at the next stop if you’d rather

Him: haha I’m just messing with you. Would you really?

😇

We meet, he’s def not exactly what I pictured, maybe the 3 inch height difference than he listed had something to do about it or maybe it’s the ten minute first impression of salty remarks that he lead with... He refuses to take the train and has us walk 40 blocks up to the museum in the rain. I quickly realize that the museum and dinner plans we have might be a big mistake.

Once his saltiness simmers down our conversation gets better, and I thought maybe this will actually be a good time.

We get to the museum, and the lines are INSANE, so we decide we’ll go to another one. I give two options that are close by and ask which he’d prefer. I told him I’ve been to both and don’t have a preference to which he says “typical girl not wanting to make a choice” (wow, okay ew) to which I say “that’s actually not true, I chose the first museum..”

He decides on one across the park meaning another 20+ minute walk in the rain. He hops over a half wall into the park and I (not being in the parkour mood) decide I will walk to the entrance pathway about 100 feet away. He pokes fun at me and tells me to have a sense of adventure. I point out that he is wearing outdoor gear head to foot (yes, that is what he wore) and I’m wearing normal not weather proof clothing, not ideal to be jumping into mud. 

As we walk across the park he tells me a bit about himself. like how he doesn’t actually own any casual clothing aside from outdoor gear (okay..), he didn’t vote in the presidential election (a little red flag starts waving in the back of my mind), and he has kept eluding to trust issues of some sort by questioning my own honesty (red flag starts flapping harder).

He asks me a little about myself, and somehow we get on the topic of horrible dates we’ve been on. He doesn’t have much to say, but as this blog will tell you, I could go on for hours. I chose to share what I consider to still be my worst date to this day, last years Valentine’s Day post, Mr. Mindful (or as others know him, Touch-barrier). My biggest red flag of all was telling Mountaineer that story and having him respond with “Oh that’s it?” THAT’S IT!? The guy had a gender stereotype conspiracy theory complex, swore at me via text for turning him down, divulged his dating coaches advice and said he should have broken the touch barrier sooner with me, information I learned all within a 24 hour time span. And yet the Mountaineer was more stuck on my reluctance to say - no I never want to see you again - to that guy face to face on our date, because apparently that was Mountaineer’s touch point for accusing me of dishonesty.

We get to the museum (I know... we haven’t even started the actual date yet). Once inside walking around and looking at art, conversation starts to get normal again (aside from him saying that he likes contemporary art but this wasn’t quite what he meant). By the end of the museum I was like okay, I don’t hate this.

Then comes dinner. 

We choose a Thai restaurant, again on the opposite side of the park. Yelp gives the location 4.5 stars but when we walk up to the door the grade sign says “grade pending” (not uncommon) and he immediately looks for another place to go because I guess that’s unacceptable. After a few minutes of standing in the cold and probably noticing my poorly disguised apathy for this problem he decides we can go there because, like I said, it’s rated well.

The hostess seats us immediately but we’re close to the door and the Mountaineer doesn’t like that so he asks for us to be moved away from the door. We are then seated right behind the hostess stand and as we sit he goes “wow really?” and proceeds to be visibly and audibly upset about it for at least 10 minutes. He rants to me about how going to a restaurant isn’t just about the food but about the experience and how this experience is bs. (Yes, this two dollar sign Thai restaurant we’re going to because we want a quick meal really isn’t hitting my high class needs). I tell him we could take ownership and ask to move but he says no and continues to pout. As we look at the menu I notice the Mountaineer, as a non vegetarian, keeps mentioning tofu dishes and I ask why. He then bestows all of his restaurant wisdom upon me and explains how he rarely eats meat, or even seafood, at restaurants because he doesn’t trust them (here we go with the trust again), and especially not Asian restaurants. He also let me know that if he ever does order a steak, he likes his steak well-done but he orders it medium-rare and has them send it back to the kitchen when it comes out to cook it longer, because if he asks for it well-done he’s certain they’ll give him a crappy piece of meat.

At this point I am on the verge of stabbing myself with the utensils in front of me but instead I order shrimp pad thai to spite him. He doesn’t ask me a single question at dinner and is less than kind to the serving staff (the reddest flag of the red flags), I ask questions to fill the painful void for myself and when he asks if I want to go to Patagonia with him to look at some more outdoor gear he wants for himself I tell him I need to head home to my pup. 

I hugged him, I left, I haven’t spoken to him since and I couldn't be more grateful.

I will admit, I was a little upset when I left, partially because I had been excited about the Mountaineer for two weeks and felt bummed by my off point expectations, but even more so I was upset because I wasted almost an entire Saturday walking in the rain and listening to restaurant conspiracy theories when I could have been at home with my pup.

This date taught me (and hopefully you) two things:  1) You can be into Mountains without being be down to Earth 2) Never plan a multi-layered first date

Happy Love Day Everyone

<3

(For a nice complimentary laugh, here’s the link to that brief article I mentioned earlier that was obviously written about Mountaineer and his brethren.)

https://www.mcsweeneys.net/articles/i-am-a-pacific-northwest-man-on-tinder-and-i-will-die-if-i-go-indoors

[stealth-spiderr]

37 w/ Calum??? Congrats on 1K my dude xo

By 37 w Calum I meant 37 w Tom hahahahahaha

thanks my dude xo 💞

37 // One of us gets too drunk and calls about a hundred times

tom’s been trying to ignore the almost constant buzzing of his phone for almost ten minutes. he thought he’d muted it before he got in bed, but alas he hadn’t and he was regretting that a little bit. he reached over a grabbed it wondering who on earth could possibly be trying so desperately to reach him in the middle of the night. he opens one eye to see far too many missed calls on the screen before it starts ringing again.

it was you, of course it was you.

he answers, putting it on speaker and laying the phone on his chest so he doesn’t have to hold it.

“TOMMY THANK GOD IVE BEEN CALLING FOR AT LEAST FOURTEEN HOURS” you shout, he winces at the volume, turning his phone down a few notches.

“fourteen hours, huh?” tom replies

“thats forever, tommy.”

“mmm, sorry for not answering earlier, was sleeping.”

“i didn’t mean to wake- shut up its tom- i didnt mean to wake you up, im sorryyyy”

tom has no idea who you’re talking to on the other end, he has no idea where you even are but he can tell by your slurred words that you are well and truly intoxicated.

“how many have you had, darling?”

“oh boy, not enough,” you giggle.

“no more,” he tells you

“you can’t stop me, you’re not here.”

tom hears someone shouting in that background that you’re officially cut off for the night and he laughs as you whine to the person that you’re not even that drunk. there’s a bit of muffled noises and the sound of other people dies away, it’s almost completely silent and tom’s worried you’ve passed out until you let out a sigh.

“any particular reason you called, (Y/N)?” he asks

“miss you,” you mumble

“i saw you two days ago.”

“two days too long tommy.”

“maybe if you let me know you miss me when you aren’t drunk we could sort something out.”

“drunk you is not better, thank you, you always tell me you’re in love with me.”

tom’s heart stops because he does not remember ever telling you those words, he takes a deep breath hoping you don’t hear any shake in his voice when he talks, “that’s how it always goes with us, one of us gets too drunk and calls about hundred times, saying things we probably shouldn’t.”

“why shouldn’t we be saying them?”

he takes another deep breath, “because we’re scared the other doesn’t feel the same, so if they don’t we won’t have to remember it.”

“i’m glad we don’t get drunk together then, i’d hate to forgot you admitting your love for me.”

“we get drunk together all the time, what are you talking about?”

“yes, but you’ve never said you love me to my face because harrison would never shut up about it if you had.”

he doesn’t know what to say to that. everything is so much easier to say on the phone, because if you say something wrong you can just hang up.

“tommy?” your voice sounds so small to him, but maybe he just can’t hear over the thundering of his heart beat.

“yeah?”

“please come tell me you love me.”

1k celebration weekend // prompt list

[drxcodormixns]

Pure

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Request: will you please do a draco x reader that's right after the war and Draco goes to buy a new wand and there's a girl from his year at hogwarts working there as an apprentice and wizards aren't supposed to get new wands but she makes an exception for him because he went through a lot and his wand keeps reminding him of all the bad stuff and also she has a crush on him? And can it be really fluffy please? This is super long I'm really sorry but I love your writing! Thanks! Xx

A/N: really short sorryyyy

The small piles of rubble still littering the streets of Diagon Alley make Draco’s heart pang. The once lively atmosphere of the shopping area is gradually rebuilding itself, but people still give the easily recognizable blonde haired boy a wide berth as they go about their daily business.

He keeps his head down as he walks down the street, not interested in attracting any unwanted attention. He has a particular destination in mind, something that could finally help him fix himself; much like the street itself is trying to do.

The door jingles slightly as he pushes it open and the quiet sound lifts his spirits just slightly. Seeing nobody around, he begins wandering around the room, taking in the shelves stocked to the brim with wand boxes. He grabs one off the shelf at random and begins to lift the lid to get a look at the inside.

“Can I help you?”

He jumps, practically dropping the box in his hands as he whirls around. “I – er, sorry, I was just…” The girl laughs as he shoves the wand back into the shelf haphazardly, a blush blooming on his cheeks.

“It’s alright, really!”

She gently reaches around him and replaces the box in a much neater fashion. “Ollivander would’ve been here to help you, but he’s still a little shaken up – the war, you know…” She turns and immediately takes note of Draco’s guilty face, making her backtrack. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean –”

“No, it’s completely fine. So – so you’re an apprentice?” Draco says, and the girl seizes on the subject change.

“That’s right.”

Draco glances down at the nametag embroidered on her uniform and blinks in surprise. “Y/N? Weren’t you –”

The girl cuts him off with a giggle and walks along the aisle, rearranging wands as she goes. Draco follows close behind her. “In your year. You didn’t really notice me though.”

She stops abruptly to pull a box out and he nearly runs into her. “You know I can’t sell you a wand, right?”

Draco’s eyes widen when he realizes the truth of that statement. Apprentices aren’t allowed to sell wands – it’s a well-known rule that he curses himself for forgetting.

Reaching into the pocket of his robes, he gently pulls out his current wand, cringing slightly at the familiar shine of the Hawthorne. “I understand.”

Evidently his expression inspires some sympathy in Y/N, because she leans closer and hands him a box. “Why don’t you try this one?”

Half an hour and thirteen boxes later, Draco has finally found a new wand. It feels perfect in his hand; the weight, the color, the texture… and his magic has never been more powerful.

He doesn’t speak as he hands his old wand away, feeling like a part of his past is being ripped away.

But sometimes it’s necessary to be broken down to be able to remake yourself again.

He makes his way to the front of the store again but hesitates just before he opens the door. “Can I – can I see you again?”

Y/N pauses en route to the back room again. When she turns around, her face is set in a soft smile that makes Draco’s heart flutter. “I’d love that.

As the bell above the store’s door jingles again signaling Draco’s exit, he remembers a bedtime story his mother used to tell him. Narcissa heavily romanticized the story, adding fairies and trolls and many magical creatures, but only one part in particular has stuck with him.

And when the bell rang, the man felt his body being purged of darkness. He felt pure again.

Draco leaves the store with a smile on his face. Pure.

[helloiamdramaqueen]

A Lost Love

Hi. So this is my first ever time uploading a story on tumblr. I’m pretty new at all this so bear with me and I will try and get it right. This is a story I have been wanting to write ever since I discovered that Isaac basically disappeared and never came back to Teen Wolf... as you can tell I am NOT happy about that! :( This story will include Isaac later on don’t worry. <3  

So this story is set from the last episode of season 2 onwards and there may be differences between this and the show sorryyyy but I think it will benefit the story. I will tell you about the differences as we get there but first, here is the prologue. ENJOY! Please tell me what you think about the prologue and then if it you guys enjoy it I will upload Chapter 1. ENJOY! - dramaqueen - xx

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“I know this isn’t a great time.”

No, it wasn’t. The Sheriff had just received a call saying that there had been vandals trashing a warehouse downtown overnight. Obviously this didn’t surprise him. For the last six months, there had been unexplainable murders and trails of darkness everywhere in Beacon Hills. His son, Stiles, disappeared with Scott without any valid reason, a kid from the school, Jackson Whitmore, had been acting weirdly and just disappearing for hours or days at a time and nothing ever really made sense.

All of this tension and unknowing really set the Sheriff of course and made him on edge. Everyone noticed but no one said anything. So why was Melissa still here? She knew that at this particular time there was no way he would feel up to ‘talking’ after she had just seen him receive the call. So why would she hang around?

“No, it isn’t a good time.” He replied in a calm but almost snappy way. Melissa couldn’t help but notice his uneasiness but this wasn’t something he would want to delay hearing. “Look, I know this town is going mental right now but there is something I really need to tell you.”

“Unless it’s about this case or something important then I don’t need to hear it.”

“It’s not about a case but..”

“Then tell me later when we will probably trying to find where our sons are.”

“You will want to kno-“

“Not now Melissa!” She was struck back by his outburst. It almost phased her from continuing on… but she had to go on. She made her voice quiet, gentle and calmly spoke to him, “You’re going to want to know this.” Instantly, she saw him relax and regain his usual calmness and trusting role. “What is it?” His voice wasn’t short or harsh anymore, but he sounded genuinely concerned so, she said the words that would change lives of people in Beacon Hills forever:

“You have a daughter.”

And that’s how it happened. That’s how my Dad found out about me.

- By the way, the title has multiple meanings. ;) -