#a poem when I wake up is lovely sometimes but often it just ruins my day
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Love songs don't work too well on me when they're sad.
I don't have anything to cry over, I've never even been in love.
I put on a sad love song, about any situation (a breakup, an unrequited crush, a loss), and I feel so incredibly frustrated. I feel so sad, so miserable over never having someone who comes to mind when the word "you" is sung, I feel like my life's gone sour and empty and there's nothing I can do to ever fix it, especially when I find that I don't actually care to meet new people and would rather spend time doing things that concern only me and me alone.
And it makes me happy! It makes me feel good, to finally be able to say "I like this, I made this, I want to do this more!" without feeling like a total liar who only says what he thinks he should say in order to get people off his back.
But then I'm alone, truly alone, and my brain's so tired I can't think up any games to play or stories to spin, and I'm alone and empty and it feels so horrible to be unable to think of anything but what I'm feeling, what I don't deserve to be feeling! My eyes itch, my stomach hurts and I can barely breathe from trying not to make any noise. I hate it so much! It drives me crazy! What reason do I have to be like this? I haven't tried. I don't think I'm capable of trying!
It's pathetic, I can't talk about it when I know someone's listening. I'm crying about love. I'm crying over things that haven't happened yet, things that won't ever happen. I'm crying and I can't explain it in a way that'd make sense to anyone, not even me, but I know it's about love, and knowing it's about love makes it so, so much worse.
I hate wanting love, because I know I am loved! I am loved as a friend, as a pet, as a student, but never as a lover. The way I look, or rather the way I am, makes me feel disgusting for wanting this.
I know I should be satisfied with what I have, not grateful nor indebted but satisfied, because I know I deserve this love I get, it doesn't really matter that I can't understand it. It makes me so happy to have people who look out for me, even when I'm too useless to really do the same for them. I love saying stupid things, sharing meaningless details about my day, watching them do just about anything, most of all I love making them laugh with the stupid things I say. I'm flimsy and unreliable and immature, but I hope I can be a safe place – a distraction from whatever they might be going through. I can talk for hours on end; all they have to do is put up with my stuttering jokes. I can't fix their problems, since my advice usually comes just from theory and observations, no practice available – all I hope for is to make them feel better, even if just a little, even if it doesn't last long.
I'm not sure why exactly I deserve to have people who love me, but I am so happy they do. Knowing they love me allows me to love them back, it allows me to stop being so scared of showing them, of letting them know how much I love them.
It makes me so happy, yet so bitter towards myself. Why aren't I satisfied? Can't I just stop wanting what I'll never have? My life's never been better, I have never been so unafraid, but I still can't fully relax, all because of this stupid want I feel. I say "want", but it's a lot more like a craving that won't ever be satisfied.
Feeling like this, knowing who I am? It's disgusting, repulsive, ugly, idiotic, pathetic, sad. No one will ever look at me that way, people have told me so. Not in those words, obviously, but being told "you're so lovable!" and "I don't know, I can't imagine you ever dating anyone for some reason" five sentences apart doesn't leave much room for interpretation, does it.
I know I am a dog. People who say they're dogs (or dog-like) usually mean they are loyal, or aggressive, or playful or loving, or some combination of any of those.
But the kind of dog I am is all about being loved. So very loved, cherished, yet always separate.
It's not something you can fix. I'm part of the family, I know this, but I'm still a different species. My time runs different from yours. Sometimes, a lot of the times, I don't understand what you're saying, but you sound happy, so I'm happy, too.
I chase you around and I do tricks so you'll smile at me and tell me I'm good. I never feel bad about this, I don't see why I should! I love doing tricks!
You take good care of me, dress me up in winter and take me to the vet when I get sick. I never make a scandal, I'm so well-behaved!
At dinner time, I sit at your feet. I already ate, I never miss a meal – I sit at your feet, maybe lean my head into your lap, only to ask for pets, but never food. I never, ever ask for food, no matter how good it looks or how yummy it smells.
You eat while I lay under the table. Sometimes you comment on it – "Isn't he so good? He never asks for human food!" – and hearing it makes me proud, in a way. I focus on my tricks, on making you happy, never on asking for what I can't have.
I'm such a good dog.
My mouth waters. I can smell every single thing you're eating, and it smells so, so good, I just wanna jump up on your lap so I too can have a seat at the table! But I've done it before, and being so close to the food is torture. The smell is even stronger, I salivate even more, and from here I could just lean over a bit while you're not looking, try and grab a bite...
Yes, I could grab a bite, but I won't. I stay put and jump down eventually, going back under the table. I can still hear your chatter, the sounds of cutlery, of chewing, I can tell you're having a really good meal.
A meal that I can't partake in.
Physically, I can, of course, but I know better than to try. I know my place is down here, yours is up there – it's not that you think I'm lesser, it's just how it works. You can't think of a dog eating dinner at a table without laughing, it just sounds so silly!
So I stay under the table, I hear you laugh and chew and swallow it smells so good, my mouth waters and waters and I drool all over myself, but I already ate. Now all I've got are cravings for *your* food, which you won't give me, *can't* give me, because it's people food. Sure, I could eat *some* of it, but then I'll start begging for it. It's better if I don't know what I'm missing out on.
So bad, so bad, I wanna eat it so bad! But I know my place: at your feet, well-behaved and taken care of. So cherished I could never hate you.
But I do resent you. The way you get to sit at the table without sticking out like a sore thumb, the way it's *natural* for you to sit at the table and eat whatever you want.
It's just so unfair, to be so different and have to watch as everyone around me eats while keeping my mouth shut, never whining or whimpering.
I am a dog. You love me, but I'm different from you; we could never stand the same, wish for the same.
I'm so tired. I need to sleep. So tired. I wanna wake up a different person. I'm so sorry I keep wanting more, I'm so sorry I can't get used to this, it's so hard. It hurts so much
#diary#a poem when I wake up is lovely sometimes but often it just ruins my day#sorry for the gigantic ''vent'' post. it will happen agai#again***
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Antidote for the Lovesick [Antarctic Empire!Wilbur x Reader]
(Fluff, Not a request: Another one inspired by light anons asks- anyways I'm planning on working on my requests again after this. School will be out for the year soon so I will be writing more in a few weeks!)
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While the Royal family was well known by default, (and fairly well liked as far as monarchies go) none were as popular as the prince second in line for the throne. It seemed he made for the public eye, able to talk himself out of any situation. With the handful of poems and songs that made it to the people rumors and half-jokes that he must be part siren stired around him. There's no doubt that even without his crown he would have made himself an adored public figure.
It doesn't take much thought to see why prince Wilbur was a star in the empire's negotiations. The Emperor himself was a close second but he was often more fussed about internal affairs. The crown prince was intimidating and a genius when it came to battle, but all that confidence melted when it came to social interactions. Meanwhile the youngest prince... let's just say he hadn't developed the filter needed for the job.
So the poet prince sat at the table and charmed his way into countless treaties and alliances. Needless to say he got very friendly with many rulers and ambassadors alike. The more connections the better after all, but it was only a matter of time before the wrong person got a little too attached.
It was a simple meeting with some local nobles, and one enchantress. It could be It's own story. One starting with the prince's usual banter and a crush forming in its wake, but ending in a turned down confession and alot of shouting. By the time he retired to his bed a soon to be revealed curse was taking its hold.
That morning was filled with emotions and panic. At first he wanted to believe it was nothing more than a sore throat. However the more he tried to make any sound the more he was forced to accept what had happened. His voice was turned to a screech akin to a horse being stabbed. He desperately attempted to sing, only producing a sound that sounded as painful was it was to make. He wasn't just silenced, his voice was replaced with the one of dying demons.
His younger brother was the first he ran into. At first the youngest laughed, after all it was one hell of a noise, but he soon realized just how shaken the poet was. From there it was very quick, how the news spread to the rest of the family. The youngest still didn't stop trying to make fun of his brothers situation. But soon the royal doctors where at his bed chambers with whatever potions and medicines that they thought could ease the affliction.
As soon as they came they left without the barest hint of success. As much as the winged Emperor would've preferred to keep this a private matter it was clear they needed as much talent as possible. They needed more ideas and the skills to make a cure to the curse. So an invention spread to every city and almost every town. It was a simple one, explaining the princes condition and offering a hefty reward to anyone who could put an end to it.
This little piece of paper changed your life.
You were a rather young alchemist, specializing in all remedies natural and magical. The money stood out to you more than most. You weren't starving by any means, but no one in your little rural home town was exactly rolling in cash. Before you knew it you were packing up your things and getting the final "good bye"s and "good luck"s from your family and friends as you set off to the capital.
You weren't the first one to try, not at all. In fact you were one of last with the confidence to try. The thing is, you didn't have the herbs you planned to use.
"Why wouldn't you have them ready?!" You understood why the crown prince was on edge, things were looking more and more hopeless with each attempt. You stayed calm and explained it The best you could.
"The plants I need can be very precise with the conditions they need to grow in, and are often conned on the market. I trust my own abilities more than a salesman looking to make a quick buck." You knew your words reached the trio listening to the pitch, so you made your request. "All I need is the space to grow them and time, they'll take about two months at most. Maybe the royal garden?"
They shared a glance, but it seemed they already had the answer decided.
"How much space do you need?"
You quickly got to work, preparing the soil for the medicine and writing down some notes about the exact qualities of the future remedy. By sunset you were tidying up the servants quarters they had provided so you can stay close the growing ingredients.
On one of your first evenings you were tending to the young plants. That was until you heard a heavenly sound drifting from the other side of the garden. At first you just enjoyed the background music while finishing up your current occupation. As soon as you could you put your watering can down you stood up, very eager to track down the source of the wordless lullaby.
It was a painting, the clouds of bushes more than tall enough to hide the silent signer sitting in the middle of them. The grass while not gone completely was worn out, a clear sign the prince sat in the almost enclosed ring often. You stood in the opening of a leafy doorway. Watching in awe as he played a guitar, eye's closed with so much ease you'd believe it was creating the music by itself.
Eventually the music faded, and in a kick of humor you clapped. Startled he jumped to his feet, calming down a little when he saw that you didn't look at all hostile.
"Sorry for the surprise, my prince." You marked with a small bow. You didn't miss the little uncomfortable look that flashed across his face. "But I couldn't help but notice your song, it's absolutely amazing." You offered with a light voice. "I- I get the rumors now." You could tell you caught his interest with that. "Can you play some more for me, these plants grow faster and better with the company of music."
Rather or not that's just a myth you weren't entirely sure, but with a small smile he honored the request. He followed you out of his little hedge room and closer the area you were tending to. Sitting on a nearby bench watching you work on the newest attempt to reclaim his unnatural voice.
"How about I get to know my patient a little?" The music hiccuped in its players curiosity, silently prompting you to continue. "I ask you some questions, yes or no ones. It might be helpful when it comes to fine-tuning this" you gestured to the dirt that would soon be covered with fully grown medicinal plants. In return he gave his first answer, a nod.
Over the days you grew fond of the routine you fell into. Sometimes you would be asking questions, looking up from the garden to catch his answer. Sometimes you would be telling him stories from your home, about the many people who have come to you for remedies. Sometimes there would be no words, just the gorgeous calming sounds of his music. You could both feel how comfortable this was.
"Would you prefer if I called you only Wilbur?"
A happy nod.
Only Wilbur was very different from prince Wilbur. You've always thought of the prince as this fox, prideful and cunning and charming in untrustworthy ways. But only Wilbur wasn't on this higher devine level, he was a person. A person with passions and vulnerabilities. Only Wilbur melted ideas about himself you didn't even realize you harbored. You liked only Wilbur, that was certain.
You made a promise to both yourself and to him that day. You would lift the curse, you had to.
It had been 43 days, the herbs were ready. "Maybe music did make them grow faster" you entertained. It was the only day you were with the plants without Wilbur. He was in his bed chambers so you could focus on brewing.
You looked over your notes thousands of time over. When you took this job you knew it was going to be one of your most important ever, but now you weren't just curing a prince- you were curing a friend. You paused in setting up your equipment. The term friend felt, incorrect with how exactly you felt about Wilbur. You shoved down the thoughts and continued, now was not the time.
Was it hours, or was it a few minutes? You couldn't tell and you didn't care. In a glass bottle you held the product of your labor. Corked and wrapped in many clothes before being nestled in your bag just to be safe. You took a deep breath and set off for Wilburs room.
He hesitated taking the bottle from you, like he had grown attached to his own silence. When he did take the potion it was all still slow and methodical. As if taking the cork off wrong could ruin everything. It felt like your entire body was on stand-by, paused as he downed the entire container. With a small drink of water he waited for a minute.
Then with a little nod from you, he hummed. The simple notes never sounded so rich and deep, filled with over a month of built up thoughts and emotions. Two faces lit up hearing it.
"You- you really did it." Wilbur was so quiet. As if speaking too loudly could break the newly repaired sound.
Then laughter, and the rambling of words that didn't need to make sense. Because you could hear them.
Then a hug, one of so much more than gratitude. One accompanied with an over abundance of "Thank you"s.
"How could I ever make this up to you" He only now slowed down, only enough to take your input.
Looking over at a familiar instrument you gave that input to him, "Can you play some more for me, my prince." He chuckled, a sound that you already loved as he sat back down on the bed with his guitar.
You recognized the song. It backdroped your first siting of him. Only now did you finally hear it in its entirety. It was a love song. Lyrics sweet and sincere and raw all rolled up by the accompanying strumming. When the last cord drifted off he looked at you, eagerly awaiting your response.
"If I understood the rumors then, now I just might be a believer." How much of that was exaggeration, you honestly couldn't say.
"I'm assuming that's good."
"Trust me, it's more than good." Watching as put the instrument back. "You should probably go tell the others the good news. Especially so I can get my money" you added jokingly. With that you got one last hug and thank you before you both left the room.
As you were walking back to your room something hit you. The realization that this was over. You were going to your temporary room and packing up so you could leave. You never expected to bond with the prince this much, and in the moment you regretted it. If only a little. You swallowed the sudden mood shift and started packing.
"Hey where are you going!?" An already familiar excited voice rang out, running towards you.
"I'm getting ready to leave." You said, bluntly.
"Wait, really?" As if he didn't know you weren't moving in permanently. Without thinking he grabbed your arm like you trying to run away. "We're having a big feast tonight, to celebrate your achievement. You should probably be there."
"That sounds great." You could feel the wave of sadness fade off.
"I thought I always sound great." You chuckled.
"I really wish I could deny that."
"No you don't."
"Only because I wouldn't get my money if I could."
"Come on, that's not the only reason."
"Like it's any secret I care about you."
That put an end to his humor, "Here, let's get ready."
#shepard ram writes#mcyt x reader#mcyt x y/n#mcyt x you#dream smp x y/n#dream smp x you#dream smp x reader#c: wilbur#dsmp x reader#dsmp x y/n#dsmp x you#wilbur x reader#wilbur x y/n#wilbur x you
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Not by the Moon | 04
Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU
Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader
Warnings: A sprinkle of jealous werewolf!Jaebeom and poor yet adorable attempts at coming across as human.
Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.
Unchanging.
None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.
And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.
That is when Time truly started ticking.
Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV.
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Masterlist
There are a lot of extraordinary people in the world, but you often don’t find them remarkable until you happen to stumble upon and talk to them. The wolfish man holding tightly onto my hand, his arm draped across my shoulders, as we swagger over the pavement to his home above Paper Souls is such a curious person.
The good hour he dozed off hasn’t helped his sickly state. Even though he was nestled comfortably against me, occasionally a pained delirious whine fell from his panting lips as his features turned into a grimace. Upon waking, Jaebeom tried to dismiss his symptoms as nothing to worry about, but I insisted on getting him home as soon as possible.
“I’m sorry I ruined our outing,” he murmurs, voice strained. As we ascend the stairs to his apartment, he keeps his head bent low to focus on his steps.
Step by step. One foot before the other. There you go.
“It’s not your fault you got sick,” I reply, keeping a close eye on his movements to offer additional support if needed.
He turns his head to me, a few long black locks partially concealing the sweat on his brow. For a moment, it seems as if he wants to protest yet decides against it. Henceforth, what I get in reply is a hum resigning in the notion it’s indeed not his fault.
Is your condition causing this?
The question burns hot on the tongue, but I swallow it down. Hopefully, we’ll get to talk about it properly sometime in the future.
The day we know each other.
We make it to the top, albeit not effortlessly since I have to steady him when he almost trips on the last step. Panic and instinct rush through me when Jaebeom threatens to topple over, so I act quickly and shoulder more of his weight after clumsily steadying us both on the narrow staircase.
“Are you going to be alright?” I ask, out of breath. The adrenaline of the potential danger has spent whatever energy I had, the muscles in my limbs melted.
“I will be,” he weakly answers.
I gently let his arm glide from my shoulders, the removal of the weight simultaneously a relief and a missed presence. The attempt at letting him stand on his own feet is successful, although his hand shakes as he unlocks the front door.
The feverish fingers glide from the doorknob to entwine with mine once more before his tongue runs over my lips again. Despite this being the third time it happens, it still doesn’t fail to bewilder me nor bring a boyish smirk to his face when I look at him, speechless.
“Thanks. Today nice. I-,” he starts up and averts his gaze to the side, a rosy flush on his cheeks, “I mean, today was nice.”
I put my hand on the side of his face, gently compelling him to look at me. A cheeky idea rises in my mind, tempting me to go against my very nature.
Which I do.
Standing on the tips of my toes, I close my eyes and give him a peck on the cheek. The action surprises us both because he looks utterly gobsmacked when I have gathered very piece and sliver of the courage needed to look up at him.
However, before I can utter a word, a hesitating hand reaches out to carefully brush against my cheek, the touch as light as the fall of a feather on porcelain. The gentleness of the contact forms a funny contrast to the roughness when he firmly presses his lips on mine the second after.
Musk mingled with the musty perfume of books, warmth of spices and bitter coffee with a hint of fresh cologne fills my nose and overtakes the senses. My brain short-circuits, filled with a strange primal instinct no one has ever awakened before. Notwithstanding, something in the way our bodies harmonize in the small yet passionate contact triggers it, leaving me wanting more.
Skin on skin.
Just us.
But it’s too early and we barely know each other. This isn’t right. Not now, at least.
Hence is why I pull away, taking a step back with the imprint of his moustache ticklish on my lips.
A whimper like an abandoned puppy erupts from his throat as he chases after my mouth. Nevertheless, when I take a step back to avoid further contact, he gives up and lowers his head. However, as rapidly as disappointment had overtaken him, he rights himself and clears his throat. When he speaks up, the words come out in a mumbled mess. “I- I’m sorry. That was too direct.”
“No, it’s fine,” I reassure him, vaguely gesturing with one hand while I rub the back of my neck with the other. “I- I liked it, but let’s not- Do you... really see me that way?”
“In what way?” he asks, blinking as he gives me a blank look. But, the meaning dawns on him after a moment in which I badly try to articulate what I mean.
He grabs my right wrist, the one he bit, and holds it up for me to see. The broken skin has already healed a bit, but it’s still sensitive and throbbing, especially now that JB puts pressure on it. “I didn’t do this out of some de- del- confused?”
“Delirious?” I help him, wondering what point he is about to try and convince me of.
“Delirious! I didn’t do this out of a delirious frenzy. This means something to me. Something important. To me, this is us.” JB takes in a deep breath to steady himself, his voice strained as he seems to hold something in. “What I want for us. And I want others to know this because you’re my territory.”
“I’m just a friend.”
And scared of losing you to Love.
“You are, but you’re also more to me. I know you said you want to take things slow and I agree with that.’’ His expression softens, dark eyes filled with tender affection. ‘’However, I want you to know how I really feel about you.”
“I don’t want to risk our friendship.”
“Me too. Yet,” he closes the distance and cups my face, his thumbs lovingly brushing my cheeks, “you deserve to know my intentions. Know I want to take the risk when you’re ready to do so too.”
“Thank you.” I run my hands over his arms, his body heat warming my palms through the fabric of the sleeves. It’s a pleasant thought, knowing he is there to catch me should my knees give out. Which is likely to happen as the leftover tension from our trip upstairs fades and affection fills the heart.
“For what?”
“Waiting.”
Until I figure out when it’s the right time.
He nips at the tip of my nose, his tongue cheeky in its feather light touch. “I always will. Do you have any plans tomorrow?”
“I’m going out for tea with a friend.” The delight in his expression sours as it did in the park, the confident playfulness replaced by a vicious brooding. The autumn chill cools my face, the warmth and safety of his hands fallen away.
Turned to stone by the suppressed vehemence, I stumble over my words as I swiftly explain myself. “She is an old friend I met at university. We go out for tea or coffee often, especially before I have to go on a trip.”
“Ah, I see.” He hangs his head in remorse, but perks up immediately as if remembering something. “I got you something. Wait here.”
He rushes inside, coming back soon after with two books in his hands which he holds out to me. A collection of Keats’s poems and Songs of Innocence and Experience by William Blake.
The books I read when we met.
“For you,” JB happily announces, the bright proud ring in his voice distorting it to sound like a bark. “So you have something to read when you’re away.”
“Thank you so much. That’s so sweet of you.” I accept the gift, showing my gratitude in the brush over his fingers as I take the books from his hands. “I should get you something in return.”
“Just send me a reminder to take my medication every day.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s all I want.”
I nod. “I can do that.”
“And a text you arrived home safely.”
“Of course.”
“And let me pick you up from the airport when you come back.”
“My, do you have any other demands?”
Lips pursed as if seriously considering the rhetorical remark, Jaebeom tilts his head to the side. “Well, eating together again would be nice. Maybe we can go around town and try out various cafés and go bookshop hopping? I could also cook for you at least once a week, though I’ll have to ask Jinyoung to teach me.”
Oh my God, he really is serious.
Before he continues adding to the evidently growing list, I cut him off. “Okay, okay, I hear you. One thing at a time, alright?”
“Right,” he chuckles, “one thing at a time.”
“I’m gonna go.” With a heavy heart full of reluctance, I initiate our goodbyes. “Go to bed and get some rest before your fever worsens. I’ll text you tomorrow.”
“Can I have one more kiss?”
“Of course.”
I stand on the tip of my toes and tenderly press my lips against his. “Goodnight, Jaebeom.”
“Goodnight, Y/N.”
I ascend the stairs, but do not head home immediately. Instead, I remain where I stand and turn around to wave at the wolfish man gazing down at me.
One more moment with him.
Before I set off on the homebound journey in the next.
Above, the moon is waning.
Yesterday evening, Morgan sent pictures of the place she has chosen for our next tea adventure, lyrical about the interior. Since the moment we met, in our first year of studying journalism at the local university, we have been visiting coffee shops and tea rooms around the country and occasionally written an article about them for the university’s blog. Our adventures always begin the same, never having changed in the six years we have known each other.
A picture.
And a rant about aesthetics, reviews, and the potential of having discovered a hidden gem.
The latter might be the case of Moon Bunny Coffee and Tea, a tea room inspired by the French countryside. The far wall is made of bare brick, which forms a strangely yet nice contrast to the white wooden furniture and neatly set tables. From the speakers in the corners of the establishment, instrumental pieces and French songs alternate each other to enhance the atmosphere that makes one feel as if they are truly in France. And if the interior does nothing for the imagination, the pastries and beverage names noted in French on the menu will do the trick.
It’s only recently opened and is run by a young couple. Élise, the owner, has opened this establishment after working in various patisseries in Paris during her teenage years. However, she has now settled here with who I actually presume rather than know is her partner. According to the context Morgan sent, the tall guy with pale blond hair, oval narrow face and a leather necklace with a strange bauble - that seems to change colour - hanging from it is called Mark. The level of familiarity between the two as they work makes it easy to assume there is more than friendship, hence the suspected relation between the two.
“So, have you seen him again?” Morgan takes a sip of her cinnamon and apple tea, a smirk on her cherry red lips.
I told her about Jaebeom and the strange first encounter with him. Regardless of the weird amiability that grew between us as the hours passed in each other’s company, I could not help but remain wary. After all, the bookseller has a particular reputation thanks to the rumours created by the local gossip mill. In hindsight, it’s idiotic I used those groundless stories in my analysis or, rather, overanalysis of the kindness he showed me. Yet, I did, though they sound as absurd as they did before now that I know him better.
Notwithstanding, whereas I was losing my sanity anxious bit by anxious bit as I told her about it over the phone, Morgan’s enthusiasm grew at the same rate. Each argument in favour of the concern about my strangeness or far-fetched theory he was merely polite, she countered with a more realistic view on the situation. In the end, it’s also her input which led to me dropping by Paper Souls on the way to work and back on a daily basis.
And I’m glad she’s part of the reason I did because I might otherwise have given up after the third day of seeing the bookshelves cast in shadows.
“I have,” I admit, unable to suppress a smile at the memory of our outing to the park.
And what came after.
The memory of the chafing of his moustache triggers a phantom of the loving warmth of his lips on mine. Cheeks heat up, remembering the roughness of his sturdy hands. A sharp sting followed by a throbbing treks through my wrist again, the half-healed wound suffering from a pleasant phantom pain.
“Judging by that grin of yours, you’re not telling me everything.” Morgan cuts her scone in half and smears some of the homemade strawberry jam it comes with on one half, followed by a dollop of clotted cream.
I nibble on the rice cake filled with red bean paste. Maybe it’s not a perfect partner to the tea I chose although it makes for a delicious combination regardless. The taste of red beans is an acquired one, but the subtle sweetness evens out the bitterness of the beverage. “We went on somewhat of a date.”
“Somewhat?”
“It kind of just happened.” The whiskey tea I ordered is stronger than I thought, howbeit not in an unpleasant way. Like the real drink, it goes down smoothly and warms the body from within. “He offered to go out for lunch in the park and I agreed. It was nice. Really nice.”
Especially his body heat, the safety of his presence. How protected I felt despite not knowing him all that well.
“And?”
“And?” I repeat like a parrot. I know what she’s unconsciously aiming at, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll tell her outright. It’s always fun to tease the raven-haired woman a little.
“Details, lass!”
“We kissed,” I say, the confession hardly louder than a whisper. ‘’And I was the one to initiate it.’’
“How scandalous.” In fake shock, she clasps her hand over her mouth. “You’re a bold one, Y/N.”
“Oh, stop it.” I take a sip of tea and point at the other half of her scone. “Clotted cream with jam instead of the other way around now?”
As a fierce defender of both sides of the old discussion, Morgan indeed now smears the fluffy white cream on the other half first before she tops it off with the jam. “You really like him, don’t you?”
“I do, but I’m not sure if there’s a future for us.” I lean back, cross my arms and look out the window.
A little distance away, there’s a metal bench and somehow an image of myself sits on it, alone. No wonder she looks glum because she is the me of the future, a woman who’s heart was devoted to the type of love that is, like humans, a plaything of Time.
She tilts her head to the side, brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”
“It’s not my place to say this, but,’’ I turn back to her, absent-mindedly rubbing the mark on my wrist, ‘’he told me he has this condition that’s kinda like dementia, but he gave off the impression it’s also not. I don’t know what’s going on, only that there’s a deadline. A cruel one, and while I know avoiding it is futile, I’m not ready to face it nor will I ever be.”
The confusion on her face lightens to understanding concern. However, despite her features softening, there remains a hint of brooding in her attitude. “I see. It’s like that,” she murmurs cryptically as she takes a bite of her scone, more to herself than as a reply to me. “The story is repeating itself.”
“Morgan,” the mention of her name makes the raven-haired woman snap out of her reverie, “what do you mean?”
Instead of providing a proper answer, she dismisses the questions with a vague gesture. “Just the murmurs of an old soul.”
There is inherent beauty in the medieval cities of Europe that leaves one in awe wherever they go. Furthermore, the shops specialized in local goods and hidden gems add to the flair of narrow streets enclosed by tall buildings that breathe history. Nevertheless, regardless of the ancient beauty, there is nothing which can compete with a warm bed at the end of a day full of running from one end of the town to the other in search of the best chocolatiers.
Well, there is one thing.
As I’m putting on my pyjamas, my phone gives off a light buzz, indicating a new message.
Jaebeom: Can we video call? I miss your face.
You... You miss seeing me?
In spite of the unease of not having makeup on, I oblige and call him first. It has not even gone over once before messy black locks show up on screen. However, before he can have a good look at me, I quickly slink beneath the blanket.
“What’re you doing?” He, too, is in bed howbeit without any insecurity whatsoever. In fact, he is more than comfortable wearing not even a top regardless of the chilly weather, leaving defined collarbones and defined chest muscles on display.
“I’m not wearing makeup, so I look horrible.”
And you showing up like this doesn’t help either.
Because the bare skin, little as it is, unleashes a storm of butterflies in the stomach. The temperature in the room rises or maybe it is simply my body reacting to the aching to run my fingertips over his definitions, the features that unintentionally unleash an absurd frenzy holding the middle between unashamed love and lust. The cheeks heat up as the need for the thick comforter decreases yet the growing discomfort is not enough to come out of hiding.
“I’m sure you don’t.” Either intentionally or not, he puts on irresistible puppy eyes. The well-meant tenderness in his voice also stirs something in me, charmed by the kindness. “Please don’t hide. I want to see you.”
Although reluctant, I lower the sheets.
Only to want to pull them over my head at his words and the stupidly bright smile accompanying them. “You’re even prettier like this.”
“Shut up, you weird wolf,” I grumble, jaw clenched as I strain myself not to hide again. To distract us both, I change the topic. “Did you take your meds?”
“I did! And I mean it. No, no, no! Get out from under there. Y/N, come on. I’m not lying. You are pretty. And caring and nice and-’’
“You’re handsome.” I glare at him, peeking just over the edge of the sheet. Unfortunately, my revenge isn’t successful since it merely yields a low chuckle.
Though it seems the victory is still mine because he bites on his bottom lip and softens his voice further to a timid whisper. “Even with my new look?”
He shows off the mess of his shorter black locks, which are shaved on the side and longer on top. It’s a shame to see the long hair go because I personally think it suits him better, but he pulls the cooler style off too.
“Even more so because of it.” Although they’re essentially minor changes, it casts Jaebeom in a whole other light. He’s still a wolfish man, and I doubt I’ll ever see him as something else, but the new look gives him a more human allure. As if he’s tuned in better to life in the city instead of wandering the rough landscape in his mind.
“I’ll tell Jinyoung he did a good job, then.” He gets up on his elbow, a view of the upper part of his chest filling the small screen. The veins in his hand form mellow ridges on the back of it, highlighting a few patches where the skin has scraped off, as he fluffs his pillow before lying down again and snuggling into it to get comfortable. “How’s Bruges?”
“It’s a really pretty city. I think you’d like it.” A wistful smile forms on my lips, in part dazed by the entrancing sight a moment ago. “I wish you were here. Wish we could get lost forever... together! I mean, get lost together. Here. In the city.”
“Are you getting sleepy?” His features soften into a dreamy expression though a cheeky spark illuminates the night sky in his eyes.
“No,” I fiercely protest. That is, until an involuntary yawn escapes me, which makes it impossible to hide the fatigue of running about town the entire day anymore. “Maybe.”
“Go to sleep, Y/N.”
“Don’t want to. We’ve only been talking for a few minutes.” I conceal another yawn by pulling up the comforter.
“You likely have another busy day ahead. So go hit the hay and I’ll talk to you in my dream.”
“Who says I won’t do the same?’’ I remark smugly, proud of the comment that pops up and is too tempting not to make. ‘’Wouldn’t that make it our dream?”
“We’ll talk in our dream,” he corrects himself, a content hum following the correction. Notwithstanding, the delight darkens into a stern seriousness as he tries to look over my shoulder to scan the room, to inspect every nook and cranny instead of what’s on display in the background. “By the way, what’s your colleague doing? Are you alone?”
I roll my eyes and sigh. “He has his own room because he tends to want more of the local taste, if you know what I mean.”
“I don’t.” A deeply puzzled expression forms on his face, clearing the spine-chilling suspicion. “Is that code for something?”
“An affair, JB. My colleague more often than not enjoys a one-night stand, if not more, with local girls. It depends on how long we’re away.”
“Have you ever done that?” It has to be the exhaustion, but the question strangely sounds like a whine.
“Never. In fact, you...” I bite my lip as my stomach ties itself into a nauseating knot, chest constricted with bleak worry about what he will say about the confession balancing precariously on the tip of the tongue. However, I swallow hard and continue the unfinished sentence. “You’re the first guy I’ve dated.”
“We’re dating?”
“Are we?” His question makes me wonder if we actually are, if I didn’t jump to a fantastical conclusion. Then again, we kissed, went out together, and drank coffee in his shop. Nevertheless, also judging by the curiosity in his response, I doubt it’s right for me to assume it’s true. “Well, maybe we aren’t. After all, we’ve only been to the park, so I suppose-’’
I’m wrong, because we barely know each other and yet. Yet, I kissed him. And he kissed me back. Is that anything to go by, a valid reason?
“We’re dating!” The sudden outburst catches me as much off-guard as the enthusiastic addition or, rather, plan for when I return. “I’ll cook for you after bringing you home. Afterwards, we can just sit on the couch and read. You can also nap on me to cure your jet lag. Does that count as a date?”
“I don’t know if it does according to the official terms, but,” the fatigue ebbs away, replaced by the giddiness of going home as soon as possible, “it does to me.”
“Two dates,” he murmurs thoughtfully, nodding as if confirming an unspoken notion. “We’re dating.”
Weirdo.
I watch him analyze the situation, overcome with affection. When he bites down on his index finger to suppress a broad grin, I almost have to do the same.
“I wish I was there with you,” Jaebeom eventually notes to break the twilight hush, at last content on where we stand. The yearning of the wish is tangible in my bones because I feel the same way, though I try not to show it. “I should’ve given you a shirt or something, but I wasn’t sure if it would be good. That’s not the word. Ap... ap... appropropiate? Appropriate. If it would be that.”
“I do have the books you gave me, so I do have a piece of you here.”
But I do miss your scent. Wait, that’s weird to say. I shouldn’t say that.
Though it’s indeed strange and I don’t tell him, it isn’t a lie. Jaebeom does smell nice, like a wild forest in which the air is scented by a cologne that barely conceals its secret. The ferocious guardian in the shadows.
“Still, I wish I had given you something that marks you as mine.” Gaze downcast, the big wolf man pouts at the thought, sulking.
“You have.” I hold up my wrist, the place where he bit me now nothing but a red blotch.
“It’s almost gone. I should renew that once you’re back. A shirt and bite. That should show other males we’re together,” he muses, the disappointment gone in an instant as his focus changes.
“Totally not possessive, are we?”
“I’m not,” he grumbles. “Just marking my territory.”
“JB, you are.”
“Does it bother you, make you upset?”
“Yes and no.” I take in a shaky breath, distracted by the thought of the implications I want him to be. After all, something about the feral allure melts any resistance and lets me slip into a headspace I didn’t know I had.
Somewhere, deeply hidden in the brain, there’s a different woman, a different ego. A part of me which wants and needs him. That doesn’t mind being his possession.
His mate.
“Don’t get me wrong-’’
“How can I get you good?”
The unintentional play on words uttered by urgent yet confused puppy eyes distracts me from the splendid explanation I wanted to give him.
How... How does he do it? Does he even know what he’s doing? Never mind.
“Don’t misunderstand me,” I begin anew, “I appreciate your concern for me and I really do feel safe with you. But you bit me. In public too! I get it’s your way of telling me you like me and maybe I don’t actually mind the mark you left behind so much-’’
“So it’s not the biting?” A boyish smirk plays on his lips. Had he had an actual tail, it would have been swishing heavily with a dangerous cheer. “I can do it again?”
“No.”
Maybe someday I’ll let you. But not anytime soon.
“But you said you didn’t mind my mark. If that isn’t a problem, why can’t I refresh it?”
“Jaebeom, please, let me finish talking.”
“Sorry.”
“Thank you.” I take in a deep breath. “Now, normal human couples don’t bite each other to let others and one another know they belong together. So let’s try to find other ways to do just that. Commonly, the girl wears the guy’s shirt. I think that’s a good starting point for us.”
“What are other ‘ways’?” he asks, evidently not too keen on the idea.
I tilt my head, trying to come up with the most frequent ways in which people casually express being taken without immediately suggesting obvious physical marks. “Necklaces, bracelets and rings are common couple items. Some even go as far as getting matching tattoos.”
“I like the sound of that, a tattoo. Permanent. Permanent human mark.”
“Let me think about that one, okay?”
“Okay.” He nods in agreement. “But, if I understand you correctly, I can give you a shirt.”
“You can.”
“And you’ll wear it because it has my scent on it.”
“That’s kind of the idea behind it,” I confirm, glad he understands the underlying meaning despite not explaining it.
He looks down at his chest only to discover he’s not wearing anything. The glance over his shoulder falls on a black shirt somewhere behind him. He turns away, grabs the piece of clothing and holds it tightly against his body when he turns back to me. “Sounds good to me.”
I guess I’ll be given a ‘welcome home’ present.
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AVENGERS M A S T E R L I S T
**SERIES**
Falling Masterlist Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Collaboration with @wxstedhexrt // poetry focused fics! // TW: anxious thoughts, disassociation experiences and others so please read the warnings in each part! Based on poems written by the incredible Destiny of @wxstedhexrt! Bucky Barnes is falling in so many different kinds of ways - he’s falling in and out of his brain, in and out of reality, in and out of nightmares... and falling in love? Maybe this is the one he doesn’t want to fall out of.
Mr. Steve ( part 1 // part 2 ) Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Soulmate AU In a universe where your soulmate’s name is written on your wrist after you meet them, receiving a wedding invitation from her friend is just another reminder that (Y/N) has yet to find her soulmate. But maybe this wedding will be a little bit more exciting, with the help of a tiny child without a filter.
can’t take my mind off of you, Mr. Steve Rogers ( part 1 // part 2 // part 3 ) - COMPLETED Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Steve Rogers and (Y/N) used to date. Emphasis on the used to. But when an important date from their relationship comes up, it stirs up some emotions too. As if to add to the fire, (Y/N) bumps into an old friend who suggests that maybe Steve’s feelings towards (Y/N) aren’t quite gone. And even though it’s hard to admit, especially because she has a new boyfriend, maybe (Y/N)’s feelings aren’t gone either.
Must’ve Been the Wind ( part 1 // part 2 // part 3 // part 4 // part 5 ) - COMPLETED Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Song Inspo: Must’ve Been the Wind by Alec Benjamin // requested TW: mentions of abusive relationship that (Y/N) is involved in, not too graphic in my opinion but please be wary reading if it may trigger something for you. The girl in the apartment above Bucky’s seems to be in some sort of distress, though she insists that Bucky’s just hearing things. The two bond quickly and soon enough, Bucky wants to rescue her from a situation that she insists isn’t there. Is he just hearing the wind? Or is it a cry for help?
Unlovable ( part 1 // part 2 // part 3 ) - COMPLETED Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader There’s one other person besides Steve that makes Bucky feel comfortable in the era he’s not supposed to be in. She makes him feel safe, never pushes him to do anything, and that smile always makes his stomach flip. But a situation without clear communication leaves both Bucky and (Y/N) unsure of if the other feels the same about them.
**Domestic/Homely!Steve Collection ( Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader ) :
Home After months without hearing from his wife and daughter, Steve just wants to be home. He doesn’t care if he could be hurt from his fights, he just wants to see his little girl and the woman he loves. (The beginning of my Homely!Steve Collection!)
Grocery Shopping Steve wants to help out any way he can at home since he’s gone so often. But grocery shopping without a list can be a little stressful, especially with a little mischievous girl.
A Kid’s Imagination When (Y/N) goes to pick up Sarah from school, she’s met with an odd response from the teacher about an announcement Sarah made to her classmates. Rather than talk to Steve about it, she decides to have a little fun with it.
Santa Claus Steve’s back from a long mission and all he wants to do is be with his wife and little girl. Thankfully, they’re not too far from home… and Steve has the perfect Christmas plan to surprise them.
kidnapped.... or pretzels? Steve wakes up in the dead of night to find an empty bed beside him. His mind immediately goes to the worst case scenario as to what could’ve happened to the love of his life, (Y/N).
Dance Recitals If there's one thing that Steve Rogers loves, it's watching his little girl learn how to dance. So he goes out of his way to make sure he doesn't miss too many of her practices. Now, he has to find out how to not miss her first dance recital...
** Stay tuned for more! Send in a request if you think of some cute Dad!Steve Rogers prompts!!**
**ONE SHOTS**
Dinner and a Show Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // done for a writing challenge // prompt: “This is one of those moments when I tell you something isn’t a good idea and you ignore me, isn’t it?” The one where Steve impulsively insists on proving that Y/N’s date for the evening is trash instead of figuring out his feelings for her, meanwhile, Bucky learns that food is way overpriced lol
accidentally ruining relationships Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader Y/N spends the evening desperately looking for answers about her love life with her close friend, Bucky. Maybe the reason her relationships aren’t working out is because her heart belongs to another.
A French Kiss Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Alternative Universe Fic // based on a tweet Y/N came to Paris with a plan: take a photo with a cute man next to the Eiffel Tower, just like how her and cheating ex-boyfriend had always planned on doing, and make that son of a bitch jealous. Thankfully, there’s a super cute blond guy who just so happens to be nearby.
Makeshift Thanksgiving Dinner+ Steve Rogers x Fem!EastAsian!Reader Steve Rogers is beyond nervous to finally be meeting his girlfriend's parents. Especially when it's a meeting for Thanksgiving dinner... though (Y/N) neglects to mention until they're almost there that her east asian family doesn't usually have a typical 'American' Thanksgiving dinner... (Super fluffy I promise :))
Take a Hint Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader (Y/N) literally just wants to go out and have a good time with her girls. So why do guys seem to never take ‘no’ for an answer? To try to prevent more annoying encounters with men who can’t take a hint, (Y/N) slips on two rings onto her left hand and assumes the married life. It’s all well and good... until someone sees the rings as a challenge. Enter from stage right, our hero.
boardroom fantasies NSFW, 18+ only, S M U T // Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // done for a prompt challenge // prompt: “You wanna have sex….here? Now?” Steve can’t help how tight his pants get when (Y/N) is working nearby. While everyone else goes out for drinks, he pulls her aside to show her that the Accounting Guy who keeps asking her out isn’t who she should be with.
Holiday Kiss Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Christmas fic Bucky is a little tired of Christmas traditions for the day but with (Y/N) around, there’s just one more tradition he’d like to give a try.
Anxiety Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // TW: lots of anxious thoughts based on my own so be careful if this is a trigger for you! Today’s the day Steve comes back from a mission and (Y/N) is beyond excited to see him. But when you have a little Anxiety monster whispering believable nonsense in your ear, it’s hard to get out of your head.
5 ways Steve Rogers says I Love You (and 1 way he doesn’t) Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // sad ending so if you don’t wanna be sad, don’t read the last bit lol Steve Rogers loves you and here’s just a collection of ways he shows it. But not everything has a happy ending.
Healthy Competition Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Sam Wilson x Fem!Reader // SURPRISE PAIRING // requested It’s not every day that the boys are all infatuated with the same human being. So when they realize they’re all falling head over heels for one girl, Steve insists some ground rules need to be laid out. Little do they know, there’s one person already that (Y/N) is swooning over.
home is a person Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Post inspo: “Someone asked me to describe home and I started talking about your hair colour and the sound of your voice and the taste of your lips and how your skin feels like. Until I realized they had expected to hear a place.” When asked what home was like in a conversation about their past lives, Bucky Barnes immediately thinks of something other than his 1940s home. He thinks of her.
The Waitress Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // done for a writing challenge // song prompt: “If things get worse, will you still be here?” 405 by This Wild Life Steve Rogers has finally worked up the guts to ask out the super cute waitress at the diner he frequents… except it’s hard to ask out of a girl when you’re a) already super nervous, b) unsure if it’s rude to ask her out, and c) when you have Dumb and Dumber insisting they tag along.
Fate’s Ribbon Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader // Soulmate AU Fate ties a ribbon to every baby that’s born. It’s black to everyone else but your soulmate, who sees it as bright red. Bucky Barnes doesn’t want a soulmate, especially after becoming a completely different person than he was in the 40s. But you can’t run away from what Fate has planned for you.
Happy Moments Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // prompt list // requested Prompts: a perfectly brewed cup of tea and dust floating in golden sunlight Steve Rogers has a few happy moments stored in his brain for when times got tough. He thinks about each of them and how they’re each a part of him. But in this moment, this place, he was happiest.
Probability Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Steve Rogers is an insecure little bum sometimes. But he’s 75% sure that the girl of his dreams shares his affections… okay 70%…. maybe less….
Fate’s Sense of Humour Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // Soulmate AU Everyone is born with a soulmark, generally a signature or some sort of mark to define who this person was. And when you meet your soulmate, your mark gets darker and darker. Everyone is born with this. Except Steve Rogers. He had practically given up on finding someone to be with without a soulmark, until he wakes up from the ice to find a faded grey signature on his arm.
Jealous (Strong) Steve Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // requested Steve Rogers, the man behind the shield, knows that his strength only came from an injection. He isn’t a Norse god, how could he compete against Thor who seems to have all of (Y/N)’s affections? Steve Rogers is a jealous man. A strong jealous man who just keeps breaking things.
Studying Anatomy Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // requested Steve loves his girlfriend very much, so when she practically begs for him to help her study for her anatomy test, how can he say no?
Young But Sure Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // requested Sometimes people have different wants for their future. Sometimes their future includes a pet, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes people want to live in the country, and some just want to live in the middle of the city. Steve Rogers wants kids… and he assumed that his girlfriend did too.
Nosebleeds Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader A Stark Industries tradition was that every year, interns, agents, admins, and all the Avengers were asked to join in on a volleyball tournament. And every year (Y/N)’s team wins. She expected to have some fierce competition from the Captain’s team… she expected wrong.
Coming Home Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader No matter how long he was gone, (Y/N) always slept on the couch when Steve was away on missions so she could be the first thing he saw when he came back. Steve is happy to be home with the girl he loves.
Kiss (* Endgame Spoilers *) Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader He just looked so hot, the fire in his eyes, ready to fight. (Y/N) just can’t help herself, she just needs a kiss before they go off to their potential deaths.
Blue Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader Steve in blue is too much to handle whilst sober, (Y/N) decides. So while attending Tony Stark’s birthday party, (Y/N) doesn’t stop to drink her anxiety away making for entertaining company for Steve.
Pizza and the Medical Student Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader // College Roommates AU // requested (Y/N) just wants to study for her final. Steve wants to keep her happy. Bucky wants them to just admit their goddamn feelings for each other already.
**Super Cringy-ish Older Fics I Wrote that I Don’t Have Good Summaries For**
#avengers#avengers x reader#avengers x you#reader insert#masterlist#fanfiction#marvel fanfiction#marvel fanfic#avengers fanfiction#avengers fanfic#steve rogers#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers x you#steve rogers x y/n#captain america x reader#captain america x you#captain america x y/n#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#james bucky barnes#winter soldier x reader#winter soldier x you#new masterlist#one shots#series#marvel x reader#marvel x you#marvel x y/n
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Life’s not a movie
Pairing: Spike x fem!chubby!reader
Request: Hello if your requests are still open...how about spike with a chubby reader who is 24 and still a virgin and she is shy and depressed but tries to hide it by acting happy go lucky. She loves his poems and is a good friend to him but she secretly loves him and she finally confesses her feelings to him and he kisses her and it's her first kiss? Maybe they are having a night out as friends which turns into a date when she tells him, and that's how they end up kissing?
Requested by: Anon
A/N: Hey, so I wanted to simplify reader’s personality a little because not everyone will be able to access something so specific.
Warnings: Mention of sex. I’ve written her a little insecure about her weight (only vaguely mentioned once) and being a virgin/having not kissed anyone (hope that’s okay).
💖 Don’t worry if you haven’t had these experiences yet either, everyone has their own time for everything !! 💖
You and Spike were walking from opposite directions, with the other on your minds. Things with Spike were nice, he made you feel more human. Which, of course was ironic, because he wasn’t even a little bit human. In physicality, at least.
You smiled when you saw him, giving him a little wave. He enjoyed the way your chubby form didn’t appear to make you second-guess yourself. You appeared confident and more so when he was by your side. He especially liked the way you lit up the area you were in, always so cheery when you greeted him. On the surface, at least.
You were very good friends, so good that everyone already just presumed that you were dating. You spent most evenings with him, sometimes watching crappy tv and other evenings reading while Spike wrote poetry.
Some evenings, if you were really lucky, he would let you read them. Only a few he selected (he was very secretive about certain poems you couldn’t see as they were too intimate). You always gushed about how much you loved them, smiling and rereading them - trying to memorise them.
He wished he could read to you the ones he had hidden sometimes. They spoke of deep, unrequited feelings that longed to be free. Feelings for you. Alas, you had never initiated anything or so much as hinted similar feelings. Besides, he enjoyed having you to himself as a friend at least and couldn’t bear to jeopardise this so he just hadn’t acted on it.
You were meeting to go to the Bronze, neither of you realised the feelings the other harboured, but it didn’t stop you both wanting to spend every waking minute with each other. He loved your tummy. Sometimes you felt perhaps a little too big but to him that was a ridiculous thought. You appeared so soft he often imagined himself wrapping his arms around you and resting a hand there. Maybe rubbing his hand sooothingly while you were watching one of those movies he allowed you to pick from the rental store. He was thinking about this as you both sat down and had realised that he was staring at you. Again.
When you both sat down in a booth, he tried his best not to make his loving gaze so obvious - he had a reputation to uphold after all. To make himself feel better, he moved the conversation to something else. He asked about your younger friends, the Scoobies. He did this often, sometimes to try and figure out if they still thought of him as a threat and other times just because it amused him to hear of the often tumultuous teenage drama that the Slayer and her gang got caught up in.
They were doing their coursework tonight, Willow had called it a study-over - the priority was work, not sleep apparently. You were a lot older than them, having met them by coincidence. You got on with them well, but they were a bit younger than you (and they liked to tell you to stay away from spike a lot). You explained what they were up to to Spike, making him snort at how lame the group that used to ruin all of his evil plots were.
“People at that age should be out shagging anything that bloody moves - not sitting in memorising facts about historical events” He saw you shift slightly uncomfortably and paused, before asking, “What? You don’t agree, love?”
“No- it’s, uh, not that-” You say softly, trying to make your mouth stop forming words. But that plan went out of the window as you started to squirm under his stare and continue bashfully, “I, uh, haven’t actually…”
“What?” he asked, not letting it go. his eyes boring into yours. You sighed, deciding to just say it. Like ripping off a plaster.
“I haven’t had sex, Spike. Okay?” there was an edge to your voice as you snapped, clearly embarrassed.
“That’s alright, love... you, uh, don’t have to do anythin’ you’re not wantin’-” he started to reassure you, still confused as he knew the feelings he had for you - so he knew others must have had such feelings over the years.
“That’s not the problem, I want to have sex I just haven’t- haven’t found anyone. Or, well, no one’s found that they like me…”
“Bollocks!” he cut you off abruptly, “Life’s not a movie, pet… it’s not one of those girly flicks you watch when you think I’m sleepin’ in the afternoon... Life can be messy, it can’t be predicted, no matter what the magic voodoo types ‘round here think… so bloody what if you haven’t shagged a bloke yet-?”
“Spike! You’re talking too loud! People are looking!”
“So fucking what? She’s a virgin!” He said louder, but nobody was really paying much attention to either of you, or they at least had enough manners to act as if they hadn’t before you looked up to check, “Who bloody cares?”
“Me spike. I care” You mutter, embarrassment permeating through every pore, “I haven’t even- I haven’t even kissed anyone” you hissed, deciding you might as well get everything out into the open.
“But you’ve been on a date?” He askedslowly, a little frown. You shook your head, no. He was confused. Someone like you he was convinced someone would have taken you out years ago. You were smart, funny and very sweet. He had been convinced you had a boyfriend and cursing this imaginary man as he had been missing you recently. Not realising that you had been trying to sort through your feelings for him.
He shrugged, looked you in the eyes, grabbed your hands from across the table and knew exactly what he needed to do.
“Let’s make this a date then”
“No- Spike you don’t-” you started to
“No arguments. I want to, love. Beautiful woman on my arm for the entire evening – make all the buggers jealous and you can say you’ve been on a date” He grinned, as if this hadn’t been an in-the-moment decision. He moved around the table making sure not to give you any room. Sitting beside you and watching your every move. He leaned in, moving his hand from yours to the small of your back as he whispered into your ear.
“Drink?” he asked, just the one word making the hair on the back of your neck raise as you shivered, hoping that he didn’t notice as he got up from his seat.
“Yeah - please. Could I have-”
“I know my girl’s order” he said with a wink. You smiled not able to help yourself enjoying the interaction but a light frown on your brow as he walked off. He exhaled an unneeded breath as he went, thinking about what he had just said, about how he wished you were his.
You continued to frown a little, mulling over how he could switch to flirting so easily. It worried you, how easily he could pretend. He had very obvious feelings for you, but you took it as him feeling sorry for you.
When he returned, he set your favourite drink in front of you before he slipped his hand back over yours, resting it there gently. He was ecstatic, he had been dreaming of becoming closer to you for a while now and he finally had a chance, even if it was under the guise of a friend helping a friend out.
You stayed there for a little while, Spike making small talk asking you questions that he tried to pretend weren’t probing as you sat together before your insecurity got the better of you.
“I do-don’t think I can do this. It’s too hard” You say suddenly, looking down at his hand on yours. You released your hand from his and getting up to leave. He takes your wrist, pulling you back to him but your face tells him he needs to let go. Hot tears were threatening to spill and a thick lump in your throat almost choking you. He was confused, why were you reacting that way? Was he that repulsive to you?
You move to get some fresh air, each intake of the cold night having you wishing that you could just swallow up Sunnydale in its entirety. Take it from the map and leave a crater in it’s place. No more embarrassment, no more admitting that you’re a virgin. That nobody had even appeared to want to kiss you before. That you had never had the confidence to make a move yourself. A happy coincidence being that if you swallowed the town there would be no more hell mouth and demons.
You could start fresh, nobody feeling sorry for you or pretending to care to make you feel better. You appreciated Spike and what he had been trying to do. Helping out a friend. But you so desperately wanted him your heart had started to ache with every accelerated beat.
He had followed you, taking your jacket from where it had been draped on the chair behind you that you had left when you got up. He draped it over your large shoulders, his hand lingering on your back before moving.
“What’s wrong? Did I do something?” he asked quietly, leaning against the wall as you stared into the night. You shook your head, there was a pause before everything started to bubble over and your feelings started to tumble from your mouth.
“It’s like those poems you write, Spike. The feelings you conjure I can’t fake. I like you and this is cruel, almost worse than having never been on a date because I want it to be real and it’s just not it-it’s theatre. It’s you feeling pity – just helping out a friend-” you rushed out, each word crashing into the next.
“Hey, slow down, pet” He halted you, “Bloody motor-mouth” he muttered, with a shake of his head. A ghost of a smile on your lips. He often called you that, but for gushing about something you really enjoyed. It was a term of endearment, “That – in there was the most honest I’ve been with you. I wanted all of that… I wanted more” he admitted softly. The same voice he reserved for discussing the most romantic feelings his poetry had revealed.
He knew you had been platonic for a long time, missing all of the signs that you liked him back until now. He looked at you, a silent conversation between you. You could almost hear his mind screaming out for you as he pulled you into him.
His eyebrow quirked, ensuring he hadn’t read the wrong signals. If he was honest, he had been waiting for this for a very long time. Since before even your friendship had suddenly developed he had that feeling of concentrated affection for you that he knew was leading to this. He could only hope that this was where it could end up.
You barely started to nod your approval before he pulled you crashing your mouth into his. He kissed you hungrily, your soft lips a beautiful sensation that had only been fantasy until recently. Despite the evident passion, there was an undercurrent of understanding. A hint of sweet amongst it all that told you it was still spike, the man that had written those words. Words that now made perfect sense. His poetry only now making sense to you as you felt it. You were connected to him so intimately and you were sure his poetry had now been about affection for you. You couldn’t fake something like this.
The kiss was special, you had thought you would be nervous, unsure what you were doing as it was so new to you. But it was perfect, your lips moving with his in a way that you were sure meant this was destiny. All of the stars aligning and pointing towards the spot that you were kissing under.
You realised that you hadn’t been doing anything with your hands, they had been suspended in mid-air as if you were worried to reach and contact his skin your hands would go straight through him, revealing that he was merely a spectre. This moment being too good to be true. You were half convinced that he would be a hallucination, not corporeal to the touch.
It was like a dream, but it was better than any you had ever thought up. His skin on yours. The way he lingered against your chubby curves in adoration, as if he had never been allowed to touch something so precious. The kiss deepened and you didn’t have time to worry if you were doing anything right, you were wrapped up in how good this felt. The heightened feelings mingling with just how much you cared for the vampire that was now press himself against you as close as he could physically get.
One of his hands had been in your hair, the other at your hip until he realised your hands hadn’t touched him. He smirked into the kiss, remembering that you hadn’t done this before. His hands moved, gliding along your soft skin, leaving goose-bumps as he made his way to where your hands were still tentatively waiting to catch up with your brain. He moved your hands and guided you to rest on him, his eyes scrutinising your face as he did.
You smiled, breathless, wrapping your arms around him further and nestling to rest your head on his shoulder. He ran his hands along your shapely form before resting against your waist. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sensation of his body under your hands. Neither of you had to say anything. You knew it was the start of something, it was rising in both of your chests.
That kiss was definitely worth the wait.
#spike x reader#spike btvs#spike x you#spike imagine#btvs imagine#btvs#btvs x reader#Buffy The Vampire Slayer#buffy the vampire slayer imagines#chubby reader#female reader#mention of sex#Scooby reader#spike fic#btvs x you#x reader
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Billie Marten Interview: Quiet Confidence
Photo by Katie Silvester
BY JORDAN MAINZER
“Where are you calling from?” I asked Billie Marten during our Zoom last month.
“East London,” she replied, “Like everyone else,” simultaneously rolling her eyes at and embracing the scene in which she’s found herself embedded.
The 22-year-old’s wry sense of humor, observations, and self-awareness complement the earnestness she’s shown on her three LPs, especially last month’s terrific Flora Fauna (IMPERIAL/Fiction Records). Though the rawer aesthetic of the record was influenced by a spontaneous, drunken purchase of a bass guitar, and many of the album’s instrumentals were fleshed out in the studio with producer Rich Cooper, Marten both dug deep within her psyche and branched out to the world around her to tackle the album’s themes of self-care and empathy. Opener “Garden of Eden” doesn’t waste any time, its drums rumbling and guitars scraping as Marten compares caring for people to tending to plants. It’s a sentiment that hits even harder after a year-plus of lockdown-induced isolation, when for many of us keeping our pets and plants alive was the only thing we felt like we could control. Throughout the record, Marten’s honest about her relationship with herself, relatable in her alternating between endurance and self-doubt. “Trying hard to teach myself a lesson / Give my body patience to bree free,” she sings on the hip hop-influenced “Heaven”; even if a partner or folks in the world around her think they’re already self-actualized, Marten’s looking out for her own mental health. On the flipside, a chaotically fuzzy stomp like “Ruin” has Marten declaring that treating others like she treats herself would be bullying: “Got a war with my body / Never win, never lose,” she sings desperately.
Flora Fauna is much more than a collection of the good days and the bad days, though. Marten communes with all sorts of living things, from street pigeons to gardens. And perhaps the most consequential song on the album is “Human Replacement”, a song about women not being able to walk alone at night, inspired by a seemingly increasing rash of violent attacks on women in the UK over the past few years. In its juxtaposition of infectious groove and essential, in-your-face subject matter, it reminds me of U.S. Girls’ weighty “Incidental Boogie”. For Marten, putting herself in others’ shoes, in a sense, allows her to become something else. On minimal closer “Aquarium”, over strummed acoustic guitar, she sings, “Do you wanna go to the aquarium? / I feel I lately wanna drown / Sit down, stare out, shut up, and swim around.” She’s able to nurture an environment by immersing herself in it, like how dirt finds its way on her face and between her teeth on the album’s cover.
Marten’s getting ready to get back out there, with some festival dates in the summer and a UK tour in July. For now, she’s relishing reflection and admissions. Towards the end of our interview, in which she had her camera on but I didn’t, she told me, “I like that your camera’s not on. It feels like I’m in a confession booth.” Flora Fauna’s got to be the greenest confession booth in the world.
Since I Left You: How did you approach the order of the tracks on Flora Fauna?
Billie Marten: I definitely wanted it to follow the classic storyline writing/curve. “Garden of Eden” starts off with the plant, everything’s open, and you really get the main feel of the album there, and “Creature of Mine” is twisting you up to this darker, punchier world, and “Human Replacement” is very in-your-face. “Liquid Love” would be the plot twist. Then, eventually, we float down to the second side of the album and get back into that acoustic-y world slightly more, but it’s definitely still different from the first two albums. Laid bare with nothing but an acoustic...on the last song of the album. I love that it’s quite a loud beginning but very quiet ending, which is what a lot of album campaigns end up being. You’re selling this thing you’ve made for two years, and it’s all, “Look at me, here I am, here’s what I’ve been doing, here’s how much better I am.” That air of improvement has to be there. But in the end, it is what it is. Take it or leave it. I’m not a naturally outgoing, competitive person, so I quite like finishing it with an air of quiet confidence rather than being brash and loud.
SILY: "Garden of Eden” almost has its own quiet confidence. It starts like you’re already in the middle of a conversation.
BM: I definitely wanted it to be immediate, like you’re dropped into my life without any warning. Have you seen Soul?
SILY: Yes.
BM: What did you think?
SILY: I thought it was very good. What about you?
BM: I loved it, and I thought it was the best philosophical education you could have in two hours. It made me think of it that way, because he drops to the real world. I wanted that feeling here.
SILY: I read an interview you did that had the title “We really are just plants,” and I was thinking that while reading about the record before it came out and eventually listening to it. Was it important for you to start the record with a song that compared us to something that’s also living but we don’t always think about as living?
BM: Absolutely. Well said. We’re actually really easy to take care of. That’s why I wanted to simplify it down in the melting pot. Take away emotion from it. In the end, we just need water and light and a bit of space, but not too much, to survive. I was very aware of that whole concept. Especially in London, it’s, “Look how much I’ve grown or will be growing in the future,” not, “How’s everyone else doing? How’s your soil?”
SILY: On “Liquid Love”, you sing about “wanting to wake up as a human every morning.” Does that song point to an eternal optimism?
BM: That was very much an affirmation type line for me. That line about waking up every morning was about how glad I was able to do that, because not everyone gets to do that for a long time. The song’s a love/hate relationship with drinking, which I was doing quite a lot of in the first few years of music. I get hangovers really badly. It doesn’t take me a lot to be completely out of action for the entire next day. That line was about just waking up and feeling proper and normal as a human, because I’ve spent a lot of days not being able to function, and it was really getting to me. We rely on our conscience to remind us to take care of ourselves all the time.
SILY: Is your relationship with drinking now different?
BM: It’s definitely a lot better, and I’m a much happier person. I don’t use it the same. I don’t need it in my life; I just enjoy it. 80% of us probably have the same struggle with it. It’s something you can control, and something that takes us out of real life entirely. It takes up your attention for hours and hours at a time. It’s an incredible mask for genuine problems. With music, it’s around a lot of the time. Some people just can’t function without it. I have big realizations all the time. My body’s telling me to stop doing it and stop smoking as well. I keep getting tonsillitis every month. I think it’s its way of saying to chill out.
SILY: The theme of being able to control certain things seems to pervade the record. It relates to nature, too. On the album closer, your garden seems to represent a balance, a place where you can influence nature but not control it.
BM: I have a really strong urge to protect an environment. I use the word cradle a lot. It’s important that humans can do that with other ones. I wanted that side of confidence I’ve developed but to let people know it’s okay to be and remain vulnerable. I think those are some of the best sides of people. If I think of my friends, I don’t think of them as who they are when they know they’re being watched. I tend to think of what they’ve been through, their low points, who they are when they’re being honest. “Aquarium” is very much that sort of confessional poem.
SILY: There are other natural entities in song titles on here that symbolize something, like “Walnut” and “Pigeon”. I think I read the latter is a yoga pose?
BM: No. I was literally referring to the one-legged pigeons that hang around London that are all gammy and rough and ready and tough characters.
SILY: The pigeon is really smart and historically used for a lot but we think of them as rats.
BM: They’re complete vermin.
SILY: It’s almost like the way we treat nature and/our ourselves.
BM: Exactly. There’s such a different between a rural pigeon and a capital city pigeon. They’re almost completely different species. It’s funny. I’m getting a lot of misconstrued things coming out of this record, people saying I’ve left London, I’ve found spirituality, the pigeon thing. All of these things just aren’t true.
SILY: That’s sometimes a good thing. Of course there’s a line where someone says something completely wrong and claims it to be true, but do you like in general for people to be able to interpret your lyrics the way they want to?
BM: Yes. I’ve had a lot of experience [with the former], especially because we’re doing these things on Zoom, and then you read the written piece and it’s so different from how the conversation went. It’s an interesting social experiment. But I love when people take images and phrases and meanings for themselves and make them their own. It’s a great sign someone’s getting something from your music even when it’s not happening in your head.
SILY: On “Creature of Mine”, that post-apocalyptic, “this is our last chance” type vibe--Is that a scenario you often entertain, and how do you feel about it?
BM: I’m a sucker for diving deep into rumination in a very large, existential plane. Thinking just spirals until it gets bigger and bigger and you get to a point where you’re completely irrelevant. Like watching Cosmos or David Attenborough. [It puts] your existence into a tiny hole. I think sometimes that’s really positive because it helps me understand when I’m nervous for a performance or gig, it’s good to put yourself in perspective. However, it sometimes makes you not want to do things because they’re ultimately not important. It’s a fine balance with that style of thinking. It’s automatic for me. It’s my constant thought train.
SILY: Are there other places on the album, even if not in the same context, where you refer to that spiraling thought process?
BM: I think “Ruin” is especially difficult in that I was noting down my thought process, and that’s what the verses are. I don’t know why I do it, but it makes me feel good. I needed to do that to get it out of me and understand how ridiculous that thought train is. The chorus tries to put this analogy of [wasting] time being a crime. That’s what I was doing: I was wasting a lot of time thinking about it, so every time I sing it, it’s a weird slipstream universe type thing.
SILY: I asked the question hoping you would say “Ruin”. When you sing, “Got a war with my body / Never win, never lose,” it reminded me of that thought process. It goes in a circle. It’s not a linear thing.
BM: There’s no point in putting an element of battle into it. There’s no opponent. It’s just you. You could try and find opponents with other people, but that doesn’t usually work out either. This whole album is fleshing out these huge subjects I ultimately have no control over. Putting my two cents in and leaving it at that, making these musical, experimental creations.
SILY: “Human Replacement” seems to be one where the juxtaposition between the instrumentation and subject matter is sort of contrasting. It’s this funky strut, but the song’s about women feeling and being unsafe alone at night on the streets. Were you conscious of that contrast making that song?
BM: Me and my producer [Cooper], that was the first song we did together in this album, so it needed to come out very immediate. I just had that [sings melody], and he sat on the kit just trying it out. I had no idea what I wanted to talk about. I was going into this Queens of the Stone Age, grungy, late-night mood. I didn’t have the narrative because what they sing about wasn’t relevant to me. I was looking outside and hearing all the sirens and hearing about what was happening in the news every day, and it was a subject that needed to happen. I wouldn’t say I’m in any way a political writer, but it is a massive problem. It’s a shame that narrative came out of me. The subject matter had to match the severity of the song. I couldn’t really talk about my own feelings in that song. It had to be a bigger subject.
SILY: Are songs like those more or less difficult to perform live?
BM: I don’t know. I worried about playing that one live because it’s so serious. My between-song chat is very much not serious. It’s my personality, which is who I am when I’m not performing. So I was worried I wouldn’t give it the air time it needs. Then again, most people don’t even listen to lyrics. They just like the way a song feels. It’s important to entertain those people as well. It can’t be all doom and gloom. I would say it’s harder than talking about myself, which I’ve been doing since I was 12.
SILY: How was playing your gig?
BM: It was at Banquet [Records], a record store in South London. I thought we were gonna be in the actual shop, me and my long-term collaborator and bandmate and TM Jason. He just makes a bit of [drum] kit, and I’m on acoustic. It turned out to be in this proper venue in this theater. It was a gig. I’m really glad we got pushed into that environment. Anything else would have been a lot more daunting.
SILY: Was it your first time playing many of these songs?
BM: Yes. There are still ones I have no idea how to play. I need to figure that out quite soon. [laughs]
SILY: Are you looking forward to touring?
BM: Yes. Massively. I really needed this break to make me realize that because I think gigs can be really hard for people. I definitely find that. There have been certain moments where I wish I wasn’t going on stage. Now it’s just like we have been given this gift again of living normally. It would be incredibly inappropriate to feel otherwise.
SILY: What else is next for you?
BM: Definitely writing. I want to start recording again. I can do it now since we’ll be so busy. It’s shaping up into a completely different soundscape again, which is interesting. You’re always going.
SILY: Anything you’ve been listening to, watching, or reading lately that’s caught your attention?
BM: This band called Coco. I don’t even know how I found them. They’ve got no information about them whatsoever. I think they’re American. They have 3 songs on Spotify. They’re very very good. To be honest, I’m not very good at watching things at the moment. I watched Nomadland and loved that. Mostly it will always be The Simpsons. To be honest, I’ve been too busy recently. I’ve been looking forward to June. Wait, we are in June! It’s the 2nd day of June. Well, I’m looking forward to this month, where I can do more domestic things again and stop talking about myself. [laughs]
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#interviews#billie marten#banquet records#flora fauna#katie silvester#zoom#rich cooper#u.s. girls#soul#cosmos#david attenborough#queens of the stone age#coco#spotify#nomadland#the simpsons
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Abel info dump 2 me about ur ocs challenge
alright its 12am and i dont expect this to make sense, read at your own risk but heres a bullshit couple paragraphs on ashley underwood,
this is mostly ash because i think about her the most and this will make no sense because i haven't talked about her in literal months. ash is very complicated to me because i messed a lot with her characterization for a while and i still do, and i constantly wonder if I'm just shoving her into something convenient and stereotypical and therefore lessening her value, and then i decided that shes not real and i can make characters that don't make sense to anyone else but myself and i no longer also have to watch someone else take away pieces from her while i sit silently confused and hurt like i did before. anyway, she's very special to me because i put myself in her in a lot of small ways because she was the first oc i properly created. i made her originally for a fantasy storyline i was doing with some friends, and i thought she was very cool because she could do magic (doctor strange-esque, im not original) and then i gave her some trauma because its the next logical step. now i mostly think of her in all the modern aus that were created, and a lot of its with her old love interest (they had a very cool dynamic, sometimes childhood best friends to lovers, both with no idea how to be functional members of society, but i dont know if I'm like legally allowed to discuss them anymore so if i mention it once or twice my bad i just like knowing how my ocs act in relationships). i don't really know how I'm supposed to write things so I'm just going to put some general information and then ramble for a billion words cool sorry
general things!! shes a disaster bisexual whos 5′8″ and surviving on coffee and spite, she has freckles and tan skin (half Spanish on her mom's side- speaking of her parents died when she was 10 either in a car accident or a murder I didn't make my mind up) very curly brown hair and worrying bags under her eyes. she can look intimidating at first because she has one of those resting bitch faces and a dislike of being alive (there's a little bit of mental illness as a treat) also I'm really tired writing this I'm so sorry
she's an English major- she loves books, spent most her teenage years with her nose in one because it was easier than talking to people and also they're Fucking Good, she has shelves filled with them and two copies of her favourites so she can fill one with notes and annotations and she cries is she ever accidentally ruins one, she never sleeps when she should, staying up till the early morning and then napping at every chance she gets (she has fallen asleep on all of her friends so often, and never makes it through the second hour of the movie unless it's important), she starfishes when she sleeps and is a nightmare to wake up because she will tell you rather impolitely to “leave her the fuck alone” (getting out of bed means dealing with the world and it's so tiring to do it over and over), she’s constantly cold, wrapped up in sweaters and if she's comfortable enough, clings to the closets human heater. speaking of, it takes her a while to warm up to people, used to absolutely shut herself off from getting close to people in fear of them leaving before going to ~therapy~. she gets top grades in school because she works until shes burnt out and puts an overwhelming amount of pressure on herself, breaks down when she cant understand something in the first few tries because it feels like a failure, she does debate and writes poems and lyrics in beat up notebooks, hides them when people come over and owns like 3 guitars, sings unreasonably well and has scarily specific playlists, has round glasses she only wears when she has to because she cant see shit far away, catches colds often, brushes them off till shes forced into a bed, she studies the stars because theyre beautiful and unattainable and reads psychology books and likes true crime but only when theres a satisfying ending, she shows love through acts of service and physical touch, likes receiving quality time and words of affirmation, she takes polaroids of all her friends and sticks a bunch to her wall so she can stare at them and know that things are worth it now, has posters and art to remind herself of the little joys in life, will fight you about the star wars movies, overly competitive in a lot of things (mario-kart is a dangerous fucking game), curses a lot, stress bakes and cries when something goes slightly wrong, accidentally collects a following on tiktok from shitposting at 4am and having a nice aesthetic (and being pretty), would be the mysterious girl who you see/works at the bookstore/coffee-shop and fall a little bit in love with, writes essays last minute due to chronic procrastination and still aces it, is a ravenclaw, would be a child of hades in the pjo universe, would play outside hitter in volleyball (yes there was a haikyuu au), would be bassist in a band. i think this is all i can think of tonight because my eyes hurt but feel free to ask questions/ say anything honestly i really missed talking about my ocs and i have: many more that i will also talk about if anyone wants me to, (please. my inbox is so open please tell me abt ur ocs too i think its so fun)
#ok tagging this now bc tumblr fucking broke immediately after i tried posting this#heres ash! it doesnt make loads of sense but its not 12 56 and this is a lot of words#im sorry for the bad formatting and stuff i kinda just wrote what came to mind and can make another version of this another time#fr please skmeone ask me about these mfs i#i gots lizzy n cece n chris and characters ive barely explored n m too tired to but mayhaos#anyway yeah <3#writing#oc#original character
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How much do you weigh? what a weirdly personal question
If you are outside, what are you most likely doing? sitting in the shade reading a book
Do you think you can love someone without trusting them? yes but not in a way that will ever be truly fulfilling
What’s your opinion on people who go hunting for sport? i live in a very rural area so i grew up with hunting for sport extremely normalized but once i actually developed and used my critical thinking skills i realized how morally reprehensible it is. literally just begging these people to use their brains.
Do you have a fairly fast or slow internet connection? eh its pretty fast
Have you ever been someplace tropical? florida lmao
Are you sensitive to caffeine? somewhat. i dont really consume it that much
How do you usually get around? driving myself
Have you ever been accused of being too clingy? no bc i’m generally pretty independent unless i reallyyyy like someone
What do you think about Kim Kardashian? neutral
Can you speak any French? je parle un peu français
Favorite yogurt flavor? i’m lactose intolerant so i recently tried dairy free yogurt and i hated it sooo i guess none
How much money do you have in your wallet right now? i dont have any cash in my wallet rn lol
What bottled water brand do you like? deer park or aquafina
Your favorite way to eat chocolate? brownies
How often do you listen to country music? sometimes.
Linkin Park or Avenged Sevenfold? neither
Last surgery you had? my wisdom teeth surgery
Have you ever played guitar? no but i wish i could
Is there someone in your life whose career/life choices you find immoral/unethical? Have you ever told that person your views? Do you find it difficult to support them (emotionally or otherwise) because of their choices? um i dont think so
What trait do you feel you lack that you wish you possessed? a little more confidence
Have you ever considered writing your memoirs? maybe
Do you find it difficult to stay invested in online relationships? i dont have very many online friends anymore but when i had a bunch i loved talking to them
Are you the type of person who pays close attention to the release dates of movies, music, etc., and will, for example, go see a movie or buy an album on the date it is released? If so, when is the last time you did so? only for something i really like.
Do you have any stickers on your laptop? a bunch
Would you rather have a job for which you had to go in early in the morning or one you had to stay late into the evening at? early in the morning so then i have the rest of the day to myself when i get off
Do you use any apps to track your health or medications? i have a workout app but that’s it.
Whose opinions/recommendations do you value most? my mom, sister, and my 2 best friends
If you could’ve been at any historical event, which would you have liked to witness firsthand? probably the women’s suffrage movement or the civil rights movement
Is there something that you really want to do but are afraid of doing? If so, why are you afraid of doing it?i want to tell him how i feel but i’m afraid i’ll ruin the friendship
What is something society “expects” you to do that you don’t want to do and/or don’t plan on doing? wear a tampon i’m sorry but i can’t do it
Have Jehovah's Witnesses ever come to your door? no
Are you well-known by people in your area? eh somewhat
Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? no and i dont want to
What's your favourite type of bird? owls!!
What tv show(s) have you been watching currently? i’m watching loki, hsmtmts, planning to watch s2 of never have i ever, and i started one piece but i haven’t watched in a while
Have you ever dated a smoker? no but that might change😳
Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings? no
Have you ever been a member in a band? No.
Can you cry on command? If so, have you ever used it to your advantage? No.
Do you have separate emails for personal and business? i have my school email and personal email
Have you ever missed a flight? no
Have you ever seen a lunar eclipse? i think so.
Have you ever taken a ride in a convertible? i literally rode in my best friend’s convertible last night lmao
Why did you last need to use a band-aid? i dont remember
What fruit do you eat most often? bananas and clementines
Who was the last person you visited in the hospital? maybe my great uncle?
Has someone ever tried to start an argument with you over Facebook? What happened? no but i’ve been in a few on insta and twitter.
Have you ever had an unusual type of milk (eg. oat, rice, almond)? i don’t straight up drink milk but i love things made with almond milk.
If you could experience life as a Disney princess for a week, which princess would you pick and why? elsa i want ice powers
When you’re at home, do you spend most of your time in your room? sometimes but normally during the day i’m in the living room with my family
If you like to sleep in late, have your parents ever told you off for doing so? No.
Do you find piercings attractive? Yep.
Do you like potato chips? Loooove 'em.
What’s the most stalker-like/creepy thing you’ve ever done? If you don’t think you’ve done anything like that, what’s the most stalker-like thing someone’s done to you? i’ve looked up a few people’s houses on zillow in my day.
Do you think it’s a double standard that a woman can hit a man and expect to get away with it, but if a man hits a woman it’s assault? absolutely, you shouldn’t hit anyone
What’s your favorite old Disney movie and favorite new Disney movie? my top 3 are princess and the frog, tangled, and frozen 2. i also love the little mermaid
Name something “trendy” or popular that you dislike. idrk
“Dirty talk” in the bedroom…love it, like it, don’t care, dislike it, or hate it? it depends on what it is. it should also be mixed with some loving or praise talk imo
What is/are your favorite type(s) of ethnic food, and what’s your favorite food within that type? i LOVE italian food specifically fettuccine alfredo and i also love asian food such as general tso’s, sweet and sour chicken, lo mein, shrimp fried rice, LUMPIA 🤤
How would you describe your relationship with your hair over the years? i’ve always liked my hair color and thickness. i always go back and forth between growing it out long and cutting it short bc i can never choose which i like more also it has lots of red undertones so i’m thinking about dyeing it a deep red
How do you feel about your SO daily/regularly checking up on a couple of his exes on social media? hypothetically it would be a red flag to me. a clear sign they haven’t moved on from the past
Do you prefer your guy to wear cologne or not? a good smelling cologne on a man will quite literally make me bust a nut.
Ladies, how important is it to you that your SO wears/would wear a wedding ring? i’d want them to unless it didnt fit or something
What was the turning point that led you to decide for or against having children? i’m very close with my family so i’ve always loved the idea of having one of my own with my future spouse
Is having your “dream” wedding really that important to have? i definitely have ideas for my wedding and i would want it to go a certain way according to our plan but in the end if things go wrong or plans change it wouldn’t matter as long as i’m marrying the loml.
Do you consider it cheating if your SO goes to a strip club and then doesn’t tell you? i wouldn’t consider it cheating if he was just watching but i would be angry that he hid it from me
How old is too old for trick-or-treating? i dont think it matters unless ur posing a danger to little children
Do you sleep with your arms over or under the covers? depends but mostly under
Do you own any t-shirts of your favorite band? i have nsync and harry styles shirts but thats it
Fries or onion rings? Fries.
True/False: you’ve had an odd dream this week. all the time but most of the time i forget them right after i wake up
Do you find tattoo sleeves attractive? depends
Do you like carving pumpkins? Yeah.
What’s an animal you want to have as a pet but can’t? i think raccoons are adorable but its kindaaaa hard to domesticate them
Have your parents ever caught you drinking? no bc my parents let me drink in the house and i’ve told them abt every time i’ve drank at college
How would you react if your celebrity crush came to your door? i would absolutely piss and shit on myself.
Has your mom/dad ever walked in on you kissing or anything more with someone? no
The person you have a crush on is drunk and goes to kiss you, you know they don’t realize what they’re doing, but do you kiss anyways? i would stop it even if i want to bc i don’t want them to regret anything and i wouldn’t want them to kiss me if they don’t like me bc it would hurt too much.
What would you prefer to get from a guy/girl: flowers, a hand written poem, a picture he drew of you or a nice night out? i would love them all but something abt a guy taking the time to write a poem for me makes me melt
Do you any shirts with any kind of images of food on them? no.
Which holiday is the most fun to decorate for? halloween
What was the first website you had an email account on? gmail
Have you ever written a fanfic? YES AHSHDH.
Tattoos or piercings? tats for sure.
What’s the last gross movie/show/video you saw? the scene where alexei breaks the inmate’s wrist in black widow is SO GROSS i cringe every time
Would you rather live in a huuuge house or a little cozy one? definitely a little cozy one
Do you have a tutor for anything? No.
Who’s the best kisser you know? i’ve only kissed one person.
Has anyone ever threatened you with a knife? No. I'd like it to stay that way.
(If you’re a girl) Has anyone ever called you "shortie" instead of girl? no and i hope they dont
Do you have a deep voice? not really
Do you play games with boys/girls, like 'hard to get’? no thats dumb
Is there a Sonic where you live? yes i’m a whore for sonic
What do you like on your pizza? pepperoni or sausage
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It’s been really fun to brainstorm with you, honestly this has been so much fun!
Yes, honestly at first I was thinking that Bobby and Reggie would have a little solo in it however I was just thinking to myself that it’s kind of like unsaid Emily where Luke has to talk about how he feeling and although that would be cute it’s much more emotional with just Luke singing. I’m just starting to imagine this song and them just crying and it’s so sad. That’s exactly what I was thinking, you articulated that so well!! I agree that they all have different doubts and insecurities, just briefly mention them I think that Luke thinks that he causes a lot of issues (which is some thing I feel like all them kind of share but Luke more so). Alex (especially after death and the Caleb issue could be thinking that’s his fault) may be having some fear that they will leave him, Reggie thinks that he’s too hyper active and that they don’t actually care about him, also Bobby is kind of the same but seeing how close Alex, Luke, and Reggie are he may having doubt about how he fits in and if he does. (Kind of confirms after they died and let’s not think about 17-year-old Bobby just crying because his dream with his friends is now crushed and he doesn’t know what to do) sad times
Mission: Support Alex, slay I love that so much. I just just see the boys having ‘secret meetings’ (Alex knows about them but he just thinks that they are doing something else)
Also kind off-topic however I feel like Bobby would totally be the one who gets into fights with people who are rude to Alex with Luke supporting him in the back/also getting into a fight. Reggie would be distracting Alex because due to his parents fighting he doesn’t like participating or watching other people fight.
To Bobby it might not have mattered that they where not on there by name because he knew how important the songs were also to him he could’ve possibly thought that he was still honoring them although he wasn’t really (although most people don’t come back to life and the boys parents weren’t exactly the greatest so who knows what else he could’ve done).
Wait, I was totally thinking Alex for the 4AM thing (I think he’s light light sleeper and although at first he would begrudgingly not want to after like a minute he would) however that works perfectly. I can totally see it, also he most definitely would be making jewelry for them. Going along with your poetry theory for some reason I keep thinking to myself that Reggie would be a very good artist although majority of his paintings are either Star Wars, pizza, or the boys. But yes, he totally would be just casually slips Reggie a little poem or some thing just before he has to go back home (same to Luke and Alex when they still lived with their parents).
(Honestly I feel like Alex (or Reggie works either way) would be a stress baker and although he didn’t get any sleep either he would jokingly tell them that they looked tired) However none of them wake up Reggie, he is the one person who needs at least 10+ hours of sleep and majority of the time he isn’t able to sleep at his house so whenever he is able to go to sleep no one wakes him.
Yes, you read my mind because that’s exactly what I was thinking. It’s been 25 years but he still can’t over them (and then one day he gets ‘hi Bobby’ which was probably done because he is terrified of ghosts and the boys knew that or at least Alex did)
Wait I didn’t even think about him making his own charity (my mind is blown in the best way possible) but yes that is exactly what he does alongside donating to countless others. (Possibly helps Mitch set up the one for Luke ?)
Honestly the fact that Emily and Mitch are the most supportive parents has been on the back of my mind for the entirety of this conversation. I’ve seen many theories where Bobby’s parents were just neglectful and honestly I don’t disagree with them.
Honestly if the show says that someone other than Rose is Julie’s mom, a lot of people will rage I’m just calling it. But yes, that is exactly what happened and although it wasn’t the closure that Luke’s parents got from his song it was pretty close.
Oh yes, Ray definitely did (or if not they had both of their last names and then as you said once she passed away they just took on Molina)
I was actually thinking about this when you were talking about Rose knowing Mitch and Emily however what if they actually knew Julie as a baby because Rose took her over once and just as you said they couldn’t recognize where they knew her from but they definitely recognized her (and then cried once she left) it could be another instance where Rose helped people out in ways that they never expected (bringing the boys to Julie and once Julie had music back again it helped Ray and Julie helped Emily and Mitch)
I’m really hoping that season two focuses on them more because I think part of it is due to the fact that they only had 9 episodes that were 25 minutes so they can’t put a lot in without either overwhelming people or taking on more than they could’ve handle however it was mostly focused on introducing people and Luke’s backstory. So I would love to see more about Alex and Reggie (also Bobby and past sunset curve)
Exactly, Luke taught him a few chords which is enough for him to do the song. Honestly for no reason I’ve also been thinking that he can play piano but yes a violin fits so much better!!
Agreed, and he’s just trying his hardest and although he may have gone about it the wrong way he had pure intentions (or at least that’s what I’m going to assume). He does have to take his family into account because if he didn’t then that wouldn’t have been the best upbringing for Carrie with him being in the spotlight for that reason (he is in the spotlight but not for that reason).
You took the words right out of my mouth, I kind of wish that they had shown more of a reaction because aside from Alex the only thing we really get is Luke saying that it’s been 25 years (also kinda Reggie with his parents house being turned in a bike shack) however we don’t see either Luke or Reggie really dealing with it or at least acknowledging it like Alex has.
That did make sense or at least I got what you were trying to say, due to the fact that they haven’t processed it it’s harder for them to acknowledge the fact that it’s been so long and especially when they originally found out none of them had really thought about it.
Yup, that is exactly what would happen and in the end they both would feel so much better. (Bobby for sorting out his problems and Alex for being able to help him out)
Honestly all we can do is aspire to be on Reggie‘s level, he is the true fanboy. (Also once he accidentally drew a character in the margins of Luke’s notebook which Luke wasn’t entirely pleased with). Yes to all of that, thinking about Reggie finding out what a Jar-Jar is (although he loves Gizmo, I have no reasoning just that) potentially Reggie writes a song about how much he can’t stand Jar-Jar and how people are ruining the franchise. (This is where Julie gets really concerned)
Alex and Reggie bond over photography so much, they definitely watch the pictures come out and then sometimes Bobby and Luke join them (they have no clue what is happening however they are just happy for Reggie).
So I looked it up and apparently Polaroid cameras were but I’m not completely sure how authentic it is (one can never be to careful). However I am definitely seeing Reggie out of the blue pulling up at Polaroid camera and taking pictures of the band.
I didn’t even think about Reggie being a photographer out of the band but yes that is exactly what his backup plan is. Honestly Reggie has so many scrapbooks that everyone even if they don’t know a single thing about him just say ‘oh you’re the scrapbook band member’.
Exactly it would show how he is able to know that also how he can listen to Ray without losing interest.
I’m not sure if I mentioned it earlier however the little photo that Carlos found, Reggie definitely took it (he set up the camera somewhere and in the album there’s numerous pictures that he took but sadly that was only a demo)
Yes, the amount of pictures of Alex and Reggie fills up about two scrapbooks, and because Luke can’t say no to him there about 3 of just Luke. (Luke is an actual puppy) (part of why he is so photogenic)
Also once they discover social media and potentially get onto Instagram, Reggie has a photography account which consist of Luke, Star Wars, photography things, and pouty Alex (and or just Alex and Luke jamming out, great pictures of Julie as well) (also occasionally he has pictures of Alex and Willie because and occasionally Flynn because she is also photogenic)
Exactly yes, that’s what I was thinking. Reggie would be to excited and because Alex knows how much this means to him he always grabs whatever he can (refuses to grab wrappers)
That would be such a great bonding moment between Reggie and Julie, that’s so adorable. I’m just picturing it now.
So sad, I was not expecting you to say that and once again I am just imagining Bobby looking at these developed pictures and crying. (Also there’s one of all of them with the back saying ‘we were going to be legends’)
Completely, (they are all a little sentimental). Yes, they all had a little something that set the gifts apart, for Bobby it was the knitting, for some reason Alex is weirdly good at wrapping (but can’t make a decision on what to get someone) and Reggie is not (tends to use newspaper that sometimes he draws on, also as you mentioned he gives really great gifts), and Luke is known for using whatever can possibly not something be shown to wrap also something completely the wrong size. (One year a circle gift was wrapped in a square).
They totally shared clothes, Luke more often then not steals Alex’s hoodies (also the rest of them because Alex is tall and soft hoodies), they just steal each other clothes all the time. If the item can’t be found then there’s a 10 out of 10 chance that another bandmate is wearing it.
Agreed, I feel like it was their way of making some thing for Bobby however they are not jewelry maker so they couldn’t make it as good as he could (I mean Luke writes music for everyone and Reggie is banned from writing any of them country music), however they tried and Bobby did tear up.
Precisely, in the end he did have to buy a necklace because he couldn’t make something with breaking down.
Yes, Luke is such a musical fan, honestly between Reggie and Luke they would watch movies for everything even sad gigs. (However to Luke every gig is successful so the boys can quote Grease every single line) Also for some reason I’m thinking that Alex and Bobby just love horror movies (which are reserved for truly successful gigs) and although Alex does get scared he loves them. (not the present ones to him, that is terrifying and is not cool however he loves older ones).
Exactly, (great songs by the way), they all kind of hate Star Wars (once again can quote everything) however they just do it for Reggie.
We all know that Alex is the choreographer, best statement I have heard because it is all true. That is precisely what they all do, it’s plays to what they are best at.
Yes, honestly for some reason I keep thinking that dance was really important to Alex‘s parents so after he came out he wasn’t able to dance in front of people anymore because it reminded him too much of them (comparing this to again Julie with not being able to play music after her mom passed ). Also could possibly be why the boys were so happy for Alex during ‘all eyes on me’ because it was the first time he had danced in such a long time (also just in general happy for him)
It’s really fun to share my thoughts and hear what yours are as well! Agreed this is really long 😂
And good night! (Or technically when you’re reading this good morning!)
This was a joy to wake up to omg! Once again I’m gonna have to put a keep reading thing because otherwise it’s gonna be painfully long lmaoo
I definitely think it would have only been Luke singing it, yeah, like him just looking Alex in the eyes the whole time, desperately trying to connect and convey how much he meant what he was singing. Bobby and Reggie probably had background vocals they were supposed to add but they just broke down halfway through the song (like there was one line that set them both off crying) so by the end it was just Luke and his guitar. And I think you’re totally right about their insecurities. They all know really that they’re important and the band wouldn’t function without each of them but it’s still hard for them all to see past their doubts because they believe them so forcefully. Luke would definitely worry about causing issues - I reckon when arguments happen within the band he’s usually involved and that’s why (not that it’s like his fault specifically, it just so happens that he can be headstrong and will argue about creative differences with any of the guys) and it worries him that they’ll think he’s too much trouble. I totally agree that after everything Alex would have some sort of fear of abandonment or being left alone or whatever. He could definitely have some trust issues and there’s always a thought at the back of his mind that the guys could kick him out at any moment. I think you said Reggie’s totally perfectly as well omg like YES - I read a fic a while back that basically talked about Reggie worrying about stuff like being too over the top and it was heartbreaking. And same with Bobby, maybe he didn’t have the best friends when he was a really young kid or he was bullied lots or something so he finds it hard to recognise that he’s just as close with the other boys as they are with him.
And no no no I do NOT want to think about Bobby crying after his friends are gone it hurts! Like he’d walk into the studio one day and it’s silent - it wasn’t that he expected the guys to be in there playing their instruments, but there had always been some sort of noise in the studio. Them chatting or the crappy TV they had down there or a pen scratching on paper as Luke scribbled down a song or Reggie did a crossword. He walks in and is greeted with nothing and it just breaks him.
And yeah lmao Alex totally knows about the secret meetings - he has guessed they’re about him because he’s never invited but whenever he asks the boys give him a different answer. Bobby’s are the only convincing ones, Luke’s just don’t make much sense, and Reggie’s are completely unbelievable.
I 100% agree with the fight thing, literally you read my mind. Bobby seems really chill so people think they can get away with saying anything but the second someone insults his friends he’s ready to deck them. Luke would mainly stick to shouting at people which could be equally intimidating but he would fight if it came to it, though he wasn’t quite as good as Bobby was.
Ooooh yes I can see that I totally think Reggie is good at art! I included it a little bit in a headcanon I wrote a while back about Reggie’s relationship with his grandad. I think they used to do a lot of art together and Reggie wasn’t quite as good as his grandad but he did gain enough skill to do pretty good paintings. He’d definitely paint those things, and he’d also use the photos he takes as references, so the studio at one point was filled with canvases just of Luke’s face because Reggie had so many photos of him lmao. And yes omg where Luke would write comfort songs for the boys Bobby would write comfort poetry omggg
I love the idea of Alex being a stress baker! On bad days/weeks/even sometimes months the studio will smell of cookies and cakes because Alex just keeps bringing the guys more and more food like “hi I made this at 3 am please tell me you like it”. The guys wait until after they’ve finished eating all Alex’s amazing food to talk about whatever is bothering him and force him to take a nap.
And yes Reggie needs as much sleep as possible or he won’t function. He’s never tired - he skips straight past tired into overtired and gets even more hyper and excitable so the guys need to know the right time to get him into bed. Or sometimes he won’t get overtired he’ll just get sad and distant and won’t tell the guys what’s up; when that happens it’s only Alex who can convince him that they care about him and the best thing to do is sleep.
Yessss he would totally help Mitch! Especially if they were still close, then Bobby could use his fame and influence to get other important names to support the charity and it grows massively.
And yeah with Mitch and Emily even though they didn’t like the band I think they came to see all of the boys as sons and they could always talk to them or stay at their house when they needed to. After the boys died I think it was one of the first places Bobby went - he hadn’t seen them since Luke ran away, but he explained everything that had happened since then and got very close with the two of them again. I can totally imagine Bobby’s parent being neglectful in some way - that way like the other three he would find solace and a new family within the band and be much happier there.
Bro I will be the first to riot if the show says someone who isn’t Rose is Julie’s mum. I will genuinely be furious. And yeah her talking to them would definitely give them some sense of closure. And yes omg, your mind!! Mitch and Emily knowing baby Julie is PERFECT. Like maybe they only saw her once or twice, so they wouldn’t recognise her when she’s all grown up, but the name sticks and they silently thank Rose when they realise it was her daughter who brought them so much closer to their son.
Yes me too I hope we get to see storylines like that developed more in the second season. We got to see barely anything of Alex and Reggie’s backstories, like all we know is Alex’s parents were homophobic and Reggie’s parents fought a lot. I’d love some flashbacks to the nineties, like the boys are telling Julie a story and then we as the audience get to watch the story play out. I just think that’d be cool
I can see Trevor/Bobby being such a family man. After losing his own family (the boys) he was determined to make his own family kind of perfect or to at least look after them (also if his parents were neglectful then he’d strive to not be) I truly think he really really loves Carrie to the ends of the earth and I’d love to see more of that in season 2. It only makes sense that he’d want to protect her from all of that sort of thing.
Yeah exactly!! It’s almost like they don’t care that they’re dead. Maybe they talked it out in the weird dark room where Alex cried, but Luke says that’s only an hour and that’s definitely not enough time to get over any death, let alone your own. The sadder option is that they genuinely just didn’t care - it’s like a fresh start for them and none of them really had the best life. Maybe they’re dead and they’ve left everything behind, but at least they’re still on earth and together.
And yes that’s exactly what I was trying to say, I’m so glad it made sense!!
Yeah, I feel like Alex would feel so accomplished after helping Bobby talk about his problems. Like he’d proudly tell the others that he’d helped Bobby out and they’d be like “okay Alex well done”
Yes omg lmao the song Reggie writes about hating Jar-Jar isn’t some country song like he usually writes, it’s this full-on heavy metal death song complete with verses that are just him screaming “die Jar-Jar die” (and I’m gonna be honest: I’ve never seen Star Wars so idk who Gizmo is but you’ve been right about literally everything else so far so I’m going to agree with you that he does love Gizmo lmao). Like you said Julie definitely starts worrying then, and one day she finds Reggie just like lying face down on the floor and she asks him what’s up and he just goes “stupid Jar-Jar”.
Yessss the guys would all really like watching the photos come out but it was kind of like Alex and Reggie’s “thing” like they felt it was their little experience just for the two of them (though they were more than happy to have Luke and Bobby there too). Yes to Reggie just randomly pulling out his Polaroid and snapping pics of them just whenever, that’s adorable and he definitely would. Yes lmao people know Reggie most out of the band because he’s kind of famous for just constantly buying scrapbooks and filling them up and needing to buy more scrapbooks on an endless loop.
Yes yes yes I definitely think Reggie took that photo. It was a little stressful as he had to put the camera on a timer and run into place without looking like he’d just sprinted across a room, but they eventually made it work.
Yes omg he has so many scrapbooks of Luke. When Julie first asks to see some of his photos he just smiles and says “I know which ones you’ll like” and pulls out these three overflowing scrapbooks filled with pictures of Luke. It’s mainly his face and his arms lmao
Yesss Reggie’s photography account is basically just everything he loves! There’s so many photos of the band and also food (because when he’s looking over that lady’s shoulder as she takes a photo of her food and he says that’s a great pic?? Yeah he likes doing that even though he’s a ghost and can’t eat the food). I absolutely love the idea of Reggie and Flynn being best friends so she’s more than happy to feature on his account because YES she is so photogenic it’s unreal.
Omg yeah if Alex refuses to grab wrappers (“no Reggie they’re sticky and gross get them yourself!”) then it’s fine because Luke just doesn’t throw things away so he has a ton of sweet wrappers in his pockets and will let Reggie have them because he doesn’t want them really
Wow ‘we were going to be legends’ on the back of one of the photos BROKE ME so thanks for that lmaooo. Bobby wrote it down with shaking hands and smudged the writing with tears. He couldn’t make himself bring it out of the studio.
You’re so right with the gifts and the wrapping thing, that’s so perfect I love it. Idk if you’ve ever seen the show Gavin and Stacey but there’s a Christmas episode of it where one of the characters wraps all his gifts in tinfoil and I feel like Luke or Reggie would also do that too lol
Alex would buy a new hoodie and be like “do you like my new hoodie” and the other three would just be like “our new hoodie, thanks Alex, we love it”
I feel like that pretty much sums up the band’s whole relationship, just that they try their best for each other. It isn’t always perfect or pretty but they’d give the world for one another and it’s all any of them could ask for
Oh they definitely love horror movies! Luke and Reggie are less keen and they’ll huddle together under a blanket for the whole thing, basically just cuddling each other with their eyes closed. Alex loves the feeling of being scared by the older movies and Bobby just somehow doesn’t get scared at all. And yes, Alex hates the newer ones they see after they come back as ghosts, but Willie convinces him to watch a few and he just uses it as an excuse to hold on tight to him.
On the subject of Choreographer Alex, I’m now picturing him making the others do mini aerobics classes. Like those pictures Owen Joyner posted of his Halloween costume, Alex would unironically dress up similar to that and make the boys copy his actions in a little class to keep them all fit and healthy. Reggie was very enthusiastic, Luke definitely was not, and Bobby went along with it because he found it funny.
Oh yeah I can totally see that! Like Alex’s parents used to be dancers and they wanted to get him into it - he loved it but like you say it was too painful once they didn’t accept him. I feel like he and Julie could bond over that, and she would gently encourage him to get back into dance like she did with music and he finally does at the Dirty Candi performance!!!
Ok that was about as long as I was expecting it to be but still extremely long 😂 I love how all of this came from two posts about a jigsaw lmaooo
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HP FESTS: DramioneFanfictionWriters (Part 3)
Never Apologising For Our Wild 2019:
Fractured by MrsRen - M, 3 chapters - She's writhing on the floor, spitting in a Bellatrix Lestrange's face, when it happens. Hermione Granger's mind fractures amidst the torture, and when she wakes, friends and family find that she is not who she used to be. In the middle of a war, Hermione thinks she's exactly who she needs to be.
Ninety-Three Percent Stardust by otterlyardent - G, one-shot - Often, when a person falls for someone, they can’t remember the exact moment it all changed. But that wasn’t the case for Draco Malfoy. The moment had forever been emblazoned in his memory.
Dear Shakespeare by msmerlin - M, 3 chapters - When the fates bring together two opposites, will the love they have be able to overcome the years of obstacles that follow? Seventeen years of relationships ups and downs told through a series of vignettes.
Coiled, Falling by bionically - not rated, one-shot - She's locked in a tower when he finds her, bewitched and imprisoned.
Absinthe by TheMourningMadam - E, one-shot - Hermione becomes ensnared by Draco Malfoy, despite the fact that he is a taken man.
Magical To You by fandomfairytales - T, one-shot - based on the Nikita Gill poem/prompt: she would rather be magical to you, than belong to you.Follows Draco coming to understand such a concept and how it applies to one Hermione Granger."Hermione was in his kitchen, her cheeks rosy, the heat of the ovens toasting the air, humming along with the house elves as they worked; Completely out of her element and making herself at home at the breakfast bar, she was an utter paradox, all Draco could do was stare. It would have been less surprising to find a unicorn or some other rare magical creature there… Later, he would wonder if perhaps she was one, in a class all her own."
My Poetry by mcal - T, one-shot - Draco has been looking forward to this quiet moment with Hermione all week. A short stand alone written for the DFW Nikita Poem Challenge. Dramione. EWE
The Way They Leave by tofadeawayagain - T, one-shot - After leaving an emotionally abusive long-term relationship with Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger struggles to remember how to be herself once again. An experiment/sketch of the state of mind caused by emotional abuse and the healing process.
Show Me Your Soul by Disenchantedglow - T, one-shot - Show me The most damaged Parts of your soul, And I will show you How it still shines like gold -Nikita Gill
Demons by sweetmusings - T, one-shot - Hermione is far from okay. Can she be saved before she slips under? Furthermore, does she want to be? Inspired by Nikita Gill's 'Monsters'.
Fixing Damaged Souls by LissaDream - G, one-shot - Response to the Never Apologizing For Our Wild challenge held by Dramione Fanfiction Writer's FB group.
Wildfire by In_Dreams - M, one-shot - They said she was fire incarnate. And the smallest sliver of hope was kept alive by the spark of a borrowed ember she had implanted in his soul. A Dramione one-shot inspired by "Wild Embers" by Nikita Gill.
Tough Love by BiscuitsForPotter - M, 4 chapters - Three bad relationships. Two times her heart is broken. One time it grows stronger. Hermione Granger always seems to choose the wrong men to date.
The Devourer by ravenslight - M, one-shot - Darkness breeds darkness. In the aftermath of the war and amidst Voldemort’s reign, two depraved souls find solace in the dance of their demons.
Burning Skies by PartyLines - T, one-shot - Sometimes a change of heart comes just a little too late. Or: Hermione's late night letters to someone.
When You Are Ashes Remember This by perilous_circumstance - M, one-shot - The Ministry has decreed therapy for the returning 8th years & it’s going just about as well as one would expect.
Under and of the Stars by Lilian_Silver - T, one-shot - Hermione is in her 8th Year, attending a party in the Ravenclaw common room. It would be a lovely night of letting loose for once in her life, if not for the presence of a certain Slytherin for whom she has been harboring some very confused feelings.
Majestic Lionesses, Vibrant Birds, and Eight Billion Human Beings by Felgia_Starr - M, one-shot - Draco tries to prove to Hermione that soulmates are real but ends up showing her the world instead.
Broken by CourtingInsanity - M, one-shot - She is a broken thing under the psychopathic torture of his crazy aunt. As he watches, Draco reflects on the things he has fixed in his young life, and wonders at the possibility of mending Granger.
Spark Hearts by Abroma - E, one-shot - He doesn't ask her to stay; he never does. She wouldn't, anyway.
Scars by LadyKenz347 - not rated, one-shot - For DFW'S: Never Apologizing For Our Wild ChallengeInspired by Nikita Gills "Scars
Pretty in White by MrsMast - G, one-shot - Today is Hermione and Draco’s wedding day. Will love bloom?
DFW Birthday GOGO Fest 2020:
A House in the Country by BoredRavenvlaw620 - T, WIP -“That’s it, just no. I’ve done my duty to the Wizarding world. I gave up my childhood, I gave up my dreams, and for what… a tiny cubicle in which I put the Ministry stamp on endless permits. No more. I quit. Effective immediately. I think you’ll find I have ample vacation saved up. I’ll owl human resources on where they can send my check.”She spent her childhood fighting a war she didn't start. Now life is passing her by. What will she find when she makes choices not based off expectation?
Love of My Life by MykEsprit - T, one-shot - A surprising revelation at their anniversary party sends Hermione reeling.
Opposites Attract by HollyBrianne - G, one-shot - Draco and Hermione share a hotel room and take turns having issues with the other's sleepwear.
Caught Red-Handed by ruthy4vrsmoaked - E, one-shot - During a special kind of school reunion, Draco Malfoy catches Hermione Granger while she's reading an erotic romance novel.
Between the Trees by NuclearNik - M, WIP - When the tides of war change quickly, Draco makes a split-second decision and steals the freedom of the only person he still cares about, desperate to protect them.Hermione Granger becomes prisoner to a reluctant captor, locked away in the ruins of the one place she'd ever truly felt at home.Trust does not come easy for either of them.
Better Late Than Never by niffizzle - M, one-shot - As if the anxiety leading up to his mother's trial wasn't already bad enough, it deepens once the Wizengamot denies Draco's request to temporarily leave Hogwarts to attend. His life only gets more frustrating when the aftermath of a Quidditch accident forces him to interact with the one witch he's been ignoring all year — stirring the question of why she was present at the match in the first place.
Simple Words by dreamsofdramione (Bugggghead) - M, one-shot - It was easy to figure him out all over again.
oh god, i think i'm falling in love with you again by Felgia_Starr - E, one-shot - Hermione and Draco are forced to share a bed when there's miscommunication within the hotel staff and the hotel is fully-booked. This is a terrible idea because they both blame each other for their breakup and have been throwing passive aggressive remarks towards the other ever since they arrived in the hotel. Not to mention, they're still kind of madly in love with each other.
To Return by Charlie9646 - T, one-shot - Returning to Hogwarts was the hardest thing that Hermione had ever done, but the only person it was harder for is Draco. Friendship or more can bloom in the darkest of hours. Forgiveness is not one action, but many.
Future Imperfect by LightofEvolution - T, one-shot - Weird things can happen in the Department of Mysteries. And Hermione and her partner are about to find out how weird exactly. Or maybe not weird - but foreshadowing?
Ten Months by grace_lou_freebush - T, one-shot - While Dumbledore may have appeared completely busy managing the Order of the Phoenix and hunting down Horcruxes with Harry, he managed to keep a sharp, concerned eye on Draco. When Draco was on the verge of fixing the Vanishing Cabinet before Dumbledore was prepared, the headmaster assigned Hermione a task. She was to go back in time and stall Draco, any means necessary."She was seriously considering doing something categorically insane. She wanted to reveal herself to him.Christmas break was upcoming, and she'd been essentially alone for three months. Knowing the holiday was near made her yearn for companionship. She felt like she knew a side of Draco that he kept hidden away while outside the Room. He was clever and noble and steadfast and scared and handsome and – and she wanted to reveal herself to him."
Fowl Games by Pureblood_Muggle - T, one-shot - Hermione never believed in Divination - and she wasn't going to start now, just because Luna *saw* something.
Journal Entries by TriDogMom - E, one-shot - Draco is in a meeting and gets a naughty message from Hermione.
Ocean Views by MrsMast - G, one-shot - Hermione had some time off work, and Draco so happened to be at the same beach. When they run into each other, will things go how they expect?
Research, Destruction, and Love by highlyintelligentblonde - G, one-shot - How Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger finally got together after knowing each other for 10 years, being friends for five, and being coworkers for 3. Told from an insider perspective ;)
The Orphan by rennaissance_woman - not rated, one-shot - A couple torn apart. A soldier at war. A lost child.
Revelations by LuxLouise - not rated, one-shot - Hermione makes a startling discovery.
20 Questions by savedprincess85 - T, one-shot - Hermione rescues Draco from a bad date. What happens during a game of 20 questions?
A Walk in the Park by IRisEaGLeS - G, one-shot - Hermione Granger is stressed, but then she meets a cute little cherub at her favorite park. And like every cherub in history, this little one decides to play matchmaker.
Stake Me Out Tonight, I Don't Want To Let You Go 'Til We Catch This Guy by fandomfairytales - E, WIP - Written for the DFW Birthday GOGO Fest 2020Based on the following prompt tags from HighlyIntelligentBlonde: Co-Workers to Friends to Lovers, Mutual Pining, Fluff, HEATitle courtesy of Charles Boyle (NINE-NINE!!) because I accidentally gave this a slight B99 vibeoOoPartners for more than a few years, Draco and Hermione have captured more than just their fair share of criminals on behalf of the Auror Department, they've captured each other's hearts: taking each other down is another matter entirely...However, Hermione Granger never met a problem she couldn't solve; armed with a plan and a three-day stakeout, what's the best that could happen? Strap yourself in, I'm back for more; with plenty of fluff, soft smut, silliness, Dramione being idiots in love and giving the DMLE betting pool a constant source of fresh romance gossip and entertainment... Oh and a case/perp that has literally no bearing on the plot
Starling by floorcoaster - T, one-shot - Someone's been helping Hermione with her work and she's not sure what to think.
DFW Tropes Fest: Double Trouble 2020:
Felix Mal Felicis by Lostinthenightrain - T, one-shot - Hermione Granger came back to Hogwarts as Head Girl. Unfortunately, her counterpart - Head Boy - was Draco Malfoy. To make the year even more difficult, they've been partnered together to brew a rather difficult potion. Felix Mal Felicis - Bad Luck Potion. It's difficulty lies in the brewing process - bad lucks seems to always happens while it's being brewed. Hence why it's not often made. Hermione discovers just how much bad luck she can handle.
Finishing Lessons by Seakays - T, WIP - When Hermione Granger finds out she is the illegitimate pureblood daughter of two members of the Sacred Twenty Eight, she needs a tutor to help her navigate the old customs and expectations thrust upon her.Enter Draco Malfoy.
Somebody I used to Know by Charlie9646 - T, one-shot - Hermione didn’t know why she was even here. Why did Ginny always suggested things like this? But it was worth a shot, if the worst happened she could simply forget about and move on. She had a fairly happy life, but her love life left a lot to be desired.If Pansy could find someone for Harry why couldn’t she do the same for her?
Worth It by crochetaway - M, one-shot - Hermione is sent up to Hogwarts to investigate instances of Dark Magic. But digging to the bottom of this mystery isn't the only thing she finds up there.
riddle me this by megamegaturtle - G, one-shot - Their fingers touch when Draco hands her the paper and Hermione's heart almost jumps out of her chest.The note reads: How do you spell ‘cute boy’ with only two letters? -Riddle Me ThisHermione finds herself grinning. “Cutie. Q-T. That’s the answer to the riddle. You’re a cutie, Malfoy.”[the one where someone leaves Draco Malfoy riddles to solve from the local coffee shop's community board and he enlists Hermione Granger for help.](Written for 2020 DFW Trope Fest: Double Trouble)
The Holly and The Ivy by dirtymudblood - M, 3 chapters - “Actually,” Hermione interrupted, “I’m so glad because… because I’ve been seeing someone too and I was going to ask how you’d feel about me bringing them to the Burrow.” Ron’s jaw dropped and Hermione’s fingers tingled. Take that, Ron. “Who?” He shouted, bewildered. She hadn’t thought that far ahead.
The Soulmate Test by ThebeMoon - M, one-shot - Draco Malfoy’s life after the War has lapsed into a steamy round of indulgence between the Manor and Knockturn Alley. A highly eligible bachelor despite his dark past, Draco is used to scheming witches glamouring “DLM” on their arms and claiming to be his soulmate in accordance with ancient magic. But he never expected Hermione Granger to be one of them.
The Muggle's Wise Daughter by Mariana_Monteverde - G, 2 chapters - A Dramione Fairytale AU.Draco is a young King, one of his ministers has betrayed him, and the man's only salvation is the ability of his daughter solving the King's Riddle...
Reverse by kifiyathewriter - T, one-shot - When a number of his patients begin to die from a mysterious ailment, Draco Malfoy goes on a mission to seek out the source and unwittingly uncovers a dark truth.
You, Me, and all my other Figments by Shamione - T, one-shot - Hermione sighed dejectedly, glancing over a stone facade that had once plagued her nightmares: Malfoy Manor. A home that, at one point, had been her sole source of anguish. It was now a place that bore a new level of melancholy, though. A place that reminded Hermione Granger that Draco Malfoy was gone.He'd vanished and left no clues toward his whereabouts. Nothing, that is, until the Manor's wards were dropped. A rusty amulet is the single shred of evidence that could shed light on Hermione's once boyfriend.A new scar, an awful date, and an image of the man she'd desperately missed are the only clues to help her find her missing love.
How the Omega Was Won by Amebb42 - M, one-shot - When Hermione presents as an Omega, she is appalled to discover that the Alphas usually fight amongst themselves and whoever is strongest takes the Omega. The Weasley twins help her come up with a way to "try out" the local Alphas and choose for herself. They might have left out a few details of where she will find herself within this new product of theirs.
RX by Starryar - M, one-shot - STOP! Did you know this one shot was expanded into a multi-chap? Check out 'RX - The Full Story' for additional content! ------ Written for the Double Trouble Fest. Thank you Dramione Fanfiction Writers for hosting this! Assigned Tropes: Meet Ugly & Prison AU. Please mind the tags. ------ Draco Lucius Malfoy was stuck in-between enjoy life and rebuilding it. Should he throw his life away on the drugs, or should he create an honorable legacy for the Malfoy name? Perhaps he already knew the answer, but was putting off responsibility as long as he could. Hermione Jean Granger had been hit hard after the war. She didn't qualify for the order of Merlin and she had no family due to her memory charms being too great. The war veteran decided that Healer School was her best bet at undoing her own charms, but the price for education was never cheap. Two days in one cell and the two once enemies may find unexpected help in each other - if they don't get charged with murder first.
This fest is ongoing.
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Faith and Numbers
Korrasami
Chapter 5
“He’s really still not talking to you?”
Korra sighs, obvious indifference spread across her face. “Nope.” Is all she offers the other girl as she relocates supplies from her locker to her backpack.
Asami offers a solom smile from where she leans on the locker next to Korra’s. “I’m sorry, it’s my fault.” She turns away to watch the rush of students coursing through the hall.
Korra looks up before flinging her backpack over her shoulder and slamming her locker a little too forcefully, drawing her attention back. “No. None of the blame is on you, It was my decision to ditch them three weeks ago.”
“Yeah but it was my idea.” She replies, looking down at her feet.
Korra’s face softens as she steps closer to the raven haired girl. “That you only had..” She pauses slightly as she takes Asami’s hand, “To make me feel better.”
Asami opens her mouth to counter but is soon taken aback by Korra’s lips meeting her own tenderly. Korra lingers for a moment before pulling back to continue, “He’ll get over it.” She finishes with a comforting smile.
“Spirits! You’ve known each other for three weeks and you’ve already gotten to PDA?!”
Both girls turn to see Bolin covering his eyes. Korra rolls her eyes, stepping away from Asami, who chuckles at her new friend’s antics. Over the past couple of weeks the two of them have gotten to know the taller girl pretty well.
Mako had been M.I.A since he ran into Tenzin on his way out of Narooks, finding out the girls had lied to him. He even stopped giving Korra and Bolin rides to school, leaving every morning before Bolin could even wake up. Asami gladly stepped in, taking any excuse to both be away from home longer and to see Korra more often, plus she liked Bolin.
“I’m sorry to do this, but it’s time for me to steal Korra away for practice.” He says, dropping his act.
Asami chuckles once more, giving Korra a peck on the cheek before making her exit. “I’ll be in the library.”
“Love you sweetie!” Bolin calls out in a high pitched voice. He turns to Korra with an exaggerated lovey dovey expression, “Ugh! I miss her already.”
Korra punches him lightly on the shoulder as she chuckles. “Shut up Bo.”
“I’m serious! She’s awesome, I may just need to take her for myself.” He says, bumping shoulders as they begin walking down the hall.
Korra spins around, walking backwards in order to watch as Asami continues to walk in the other direction. “Sorry Bo, you can try but she’s all mine.” She continues to watch, entranced by the elegance the other girl effortlessly emits.
“Psh, don’t underestimate me avatar.”
To this, Korra merely rolls her eyes at her friend, knowing he’d never really do anything to hurt her. Once the girl rounds the corner Korra spins back around.
“So, is Mako still giving you the silent treatment?” Bolin asks, irritation evident in his voice.
“Yup. You?” She responds.
“Yup.”
Korra sighs. “I’m sorry Bo, it’s my fault.”
“Honestly, I don’t blame you for lying. I realise we kind of imposed on your guyses first date. Plus you apologized multiple times!” He offers.
She sighs again, bringing her hand up to the back of her neck. “I still shouldn’t have lied.”
“Even then, it doesn’t excuse his behavior in the slightest. He’s left us hanging for weeks, he didn’t even care if we found another way to school or not. I mean we don’t need him but it’s still uncool!” Bolin huffs, adjusting his duffle bag up his shoulder aggressively. “He’s also been a complete dick during practices, ever since he was officially named captain he’s been taking it all out on the team. Like, I get wanting us to work hard but he’s been downright mean.”
Korra’s eyebrows knit together with worry. “What do you mean?”
“Well, last practice a freshman was late because he got held back in class and Mako made him run laps for the entire practice.” Bolin exclaims in his usual dramatic fashion, throwing his hands up. “It was brutal!”
“Coach Beifong just let that happen?!” Korra inquiries incredulously.
“Sometimes she lets Mako run practice on his own, she’s had family business lately. Something about her sister moving to town soon.” He answers, shrugging.
“Well, this is all getting out of hand. We’ve never gone this long without talking, not even after the whole Jade situation.” She says, chuckling slightly at the memory. “I’ll get him to talk to me, I can smooth this all over.”
Their conversation is drawn to a close as they reach the entrance of the locker rooms.
“Alright, catch you later avatar.” Bolin says before disappearing into his locker room.
Korra sighs, deep in thought about how she was going to get Mako to listen to her, let alone offer up his own feelings. Korra felt horrible for letting the situation get this out of hand, Mako was mad at her, not Bolin and she sure as hell wasn’t going to let him take out his frustrations with her on his brother. She wasn’t entirely sure how this whole thing started but she was sure that the blame was all her own. And even then, she knows it was her who made the whole thing worse by lying to the boy.
The younger girl wasn’t usually the type to seek out forgiveness, she wasn’t even really the type to go out of her way to apologize. She was someone who held her pride close to her heart, resenting the feeling of vulnerability but the boys had always been the exception. She thought back to the aforementioned situation with Jade.
Back when the three were still in middle school they found themselves all developing feelings for the same girl at their soccer camp. This was still at the beginning of their friendship, maybe a year in. Jade was someone who began to make her way into the threes friendship slightly, spending time with the three more often than not. She was gorgeous and sweet, beautiful fair skin and glowing apricot colored hair, it was no surprise that they’d all fallen head over heels for the girl.
Once they’d all become aware of the feelings the three had developed they made a pact that none of them would act on them. Both because they didn’t want to lose the girl as a friend and because none of them wanted to be rejected by the beautiful girl. Though, of course, as you may have predicted, none of them actually followed it. Mako was probably the least shameless in his attempts at courting the young girl, always insisting on paying for her meals, finding every reason to grab her hand, offering an extensive amount of help on her drills to which she was all apathetic towards.
Bolin was more sweet and innocent in his attempts, always complimenting her outfits, holding open doors, leaving hand picked wild flowers at her bunk. He’d even written her a fair amount of love letters and poems. She was always sweet with Bolin, always letting him down as gently as possible, not wanting to hurt her friend.
Korra was perhaps the only one of the three who really tried to keep her pact. After everything she’d gotten away from in the Southern Water Tribe, she didn’t want to ruin it. She didn’t want to mess up the real connections she’d finally managed to create. Her and Jade were extremely close, she was the first person to ever open up to about her past, the first person she’d ever let herself cry in front of. The bond the two shared was special, it was effortless.
Korra knew the boys had gone back on their pact but she didn’t care, she found it quite amusing to watch the two climbing over each other to win the girls affection to no effect. She knew the boys wouldn’t let it get between them, they’re brothers after all. She felt that things were okay the way they were. Well, until they weren’t.
It was late at night, Jade had managed to convince her once again to sneak out and practice their techniques on the empty, dimly lit field.
“She weaves right! Weaves left! Runs right through the other team's star player!” Young Korra shouts as she runs right by Jade. “And she shoots all the way from center field aaaand……”
Korra pauses her monologue with a huff as she shoots the ball. The two watch the ball intently, with great anticipation as they wait to see whether or not it goes into the goal. The ball goes straight in the center of the goal with a loud swoosh and Korra jumps.
“And she scores!!! The crowd goes wild! Ahhhh.” She shouts, mimicking the sound of a screaming audience.
Jade watches the girl admiringly as she dances happily across the field. “Alight alright, settle down superstar. Games not over yet.” She says with an amused smirk
“Au contraire, I’ve practically got you beat!” Korra replies as she retrieves the ball from the net.
“Confident are we?” Jade says smugly as she gets into position.
Korra doesn’t provide a verbal response, instead she tosses the ball starting the next round. This time, Jade manages to get control of the ball, attempting to juggle passed Korra. Though the other girl is making it extremely difficult, blocking every attempt the girl makes to get the ball passed her. After a few good minutes of the two fighting for the ball Jade decides enough is enough. She begins her attempt at some complicated sike out but miscalculates, ending up entangling her legs with Korra’s, bringing them both down.
The two laugh as they lay on the ground. “Nice one peaches.” Korra says through the giggles. Though the giggles soon die out as they realize the position they’re in. Jade had managed to fall straight onto Korra, legs still slightly entangled, leaving the two face to face.
They lay their still for a moment, blush creeping up on both of their cheeks, staring into eachothers eyes. The two look away, faces burning, laughing awkwardly but still, neither girl attempting to move.
Jade looks up, locking their eyes once again, this time with a new found confidence. She leans in, capturing the other girls lips into her own. It was messy and awkward and quick but to be fair, neither of them really had any experience. Jade pulls away quickly after, moving to stand and ready to apologize but is quickly stopped by Korra pulling her in once more. This time the kiss was deeper and filled with purpose, and it was all consuming for both girls. This is how they stayed for about an hour, until they heard Toza’s cabin door open.
The next day Korra felt terrible. She had feelings for Jade but she just couldn’t go through with something she knew would hurt both boys, and that’s exactly what she told Jade. She was completely understanding, agreeing it was best for them to just remain friends. But again, they couldn’t go through with it. They managed to keep things platonic for about a week but found it getting harder and harder as time went on. After that week the two made their late night makeout session on the field a regular occurrence. And once again, things were good, until they weren’t.
About a month into their loosely defined relationship, the two were out late at night, in a heated make out session on the bleachers of their field when they’re interrupted by a heartbroken Bolin. He had been out chasing his fire ferret Pabu, who had gotten out. Before either of them could stop him, the boy ran crying back to his and Mako’s bunk.
Mako of course was furious, he didn’t talk to either girl for days. Avoiding them at all costs and dragging Bolin with him. Bolin couldn’t even look at either of them without tearing up. Korra however was able to patch it up quickly. She managed to corner the two before practice one day and of course, they fought at first, very fiercely, but soon they all admitted to how much they’d missed each other in their time apart. The two boys got over their heartbreak and the two girls were able to finally make it official.
They dated for the rest of summer but ended up saying goodbye on the last day of camp, knowing they had no way of staying in touch due to the fact that Jade was only in republic city for the summer. Once camp was over it was time for Jade to go back to Ba Sing Sei and the four ended on good terms.
Korra sighed, wishing that this time would be as easy but she knew it wouldn’t be. She knew it had to be really bad for him to shut Bolin out as well.
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“Alright girls! Great hustle today, go get cleaned up and remember, if you need extra help with anything just come talk to me! I’ll be happy to schedule extra practice hours one on one!” Korra shouts as the girls begin to run off the field.
Once she sees all the girls have cleared out she begins to gather her own things from the bleachers. “Hey Captain, I think I need a little one on one training of my own.”
Korra smiles as she hears the sweet voice from behind her. She laughs as she turns to face the girl. “I thought you were going to be in the library.”
Asami laughs as she steps closer to Korra, leaning in for a kiss. Though she’s disappointed when Korra steps back, avoiding the girl. She frowns, confused, afraid she might have overstepped.
Korra senses this and quickly explains. “I don’t think you want to do that, I’m really sweaty.”
The girl steps back and feigns disgust before speaking again. “I was but I knew you and Bolin would most likely be starving so,” She pauses as she reveals the bag of take out from the diner down the street. “I went out and got us all some burgers.”
Korra dramatically holds her hands over her heart and gasps. “You are too good to us Asami Sato.”
Asami laughs, rolling her eyes at the girls playful antics. “I got an extra meal just in case Mako wants to join us.” She says slightly bashfully.
“Oh awesome! I was planning on ambushing him before he leaves, this makes the perfect peace offering!” She says excitedly, kissing her cheek quickly and gratefully before rushing passed. “I’m gonna go get cleaned up, I’ll meet you in the quad?” She says, turning to face the girl as she continues to slowly walk backwards in the direction of the locker rooms.
“I’ll go get Bolin.” She adds in agreement, walking off in her own direction.
Korra smiles, turning around and heading toward the gymnasium to get changed. Once she’s finished washing off in the school showers she begins to pack her gym clothes and cleats into her duffle bag. As she packs her things she can’t help but rack her brain, trying to figure out what it was that she’d actually done to hurt the boy enough to shut out the only family he has left. This whole attitude shift started around the time her numbers shifted but that information seems arbitrary.
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“Bo!” Asami yells after seeing the boy walk into the courtyard.
The boy's smile grows as his eyes land on Asami sitting at a table, take-out bags in front of her. “‘Sami!” He shouts in response, plopping down onto the bench across. “Ooo! Whatcha got there?”
“I figured you guys would be hungry after practice so I went and picked up some burgers.” She explains as she pulls out a meal for Bolin.
Bolin gasps as she hands him his meal. “Extra meat, extra cheese, extra pickle, no onion?! You know me so well!” He exclaims as he reaches to accept.
Asami laughs as she watches the shorter boy stuff as much food in his mouth as humanly possible. “I got one for Mako just in case, but I'm sure if he refuses you’d be happy to take it off his hands.”
The boy nods frantically, cheeks puffed to 3 times their normal size.
Asami just rolls her eyes, amaused, as she takes one of his fries. “I don’t understand how you could eat so much and still be so scrawny.”
“Excuse you! I’m slim, not scrawny.” He says as he runs his hand over his stomach. “And what can I say? It’s a gift.”
A moment of silence falls as Bolin continues to eat and Asami opens up her robotics text book, starting on homework as she usually did when they hung out after school.
“So…” Bolin says, pausing briefly to swallow his food. “I’ve been meaning to ask. Why is it that you and Korra are keeping this whole thing quiet? If I was the first to find my match I’d be screaming it from the top of the building…. Quite literally.”
The raven haired girl shrugs, “I don’t know. It’s not that we’re keeping it a secret or anything, I guess we want to focus on getting to know each other before we’re thrown into the schools spotlight.”
“But everyone will be so excited for you guys! This is the biggest thing to happen to this school since… well, ever!” He says excitedly. “Most people don’t even get their numbers until senior year, if at all! You guys will be all anyone can talk about for ages!”
Asami sighed, pushing a lock of hair behind her ear. “I think I’ve had enough of people talking about me. It’s refreshing having someone want to know me instead of thinking they already do. I don’t want to ruin that.” She pauses for a moment, cracking a smile before continuing. “Besides, I don't think I was born for the spotlight like you.”
Bolin spits his food out dramatically, causing Asami to flinch as a chunk of lettuce lands on her shoulder. “You’re ASAMI SATO! You were born IN the spotlight! But I understand, I do have that mover star charisma.” He finishes with a pose.
Asami carefully picks the lettuce off her shoulder carefully as a smug voice picks up behind her.
“Asami Sato? As in billion dollar heiress of the Satomobile empire?” The two turn to see a tall green eyed girl with coal black hair tied up into a loose ponytail. Asami turns to Bolin, slightly annoyed by the boy's announcement of her full name. Bolin on the other hand is too busy scowling at the girl in front of them.
“What’s it to you Kuvira, shouldn’t you be off kicking puppies or something?” Bolin says, taking his raven haired friend by surprise as she’s never seen him anything but sickeningly happy.
“Well I am the sophomore class president. I should know who my loyal subjects are shouldn’t I?” She retorts, moving closer to the pair, taking a seat next to Asami.
“You’re class president Kuvira, not the freaking queen.” Bolin spits.
“My my, little Bolin has really grown up hasn’t he? I remember when I had to stand up to the bullies for you.” She replies with a laugh. She smirks as the boy blushes, then turns to face Asami, looking her up and down before reaching for her hair. “Well aren’t you a pretty one? Perfect posture, beautiful features, silky hair…”
Asami scowls slightly, pulling her hair away from the other girl. “Thanks, but I’d appreciate it if you’d refrain from touching me.”
“My apologies your highness.” She replies in an exaggerated tone, bowing her head before getting back up out of her seat. “You should be more careful with that attitude Asami Sato, people might think you’re a little too entitled.” She says more venomously as she begins to walk backwards, then turning around to make her exit. “If they don’t already.”
Once the girl had disappeared into the profanity covered doors of the main corridor, the two let staleness she brought with her dissolve out of the air. “Wow. Now I see why Korra decked her with a soccer ball.” Asami says, turning to Bolin. “Can she do it again?”
Bo chuckles. “Yeah, she wasn’t always such a jerk.” He pauses looking back at the corridor she disappeared in uncomfortably. “Or such a creep.” He finishes with a dramatic shiver.
“Talk about Republic City Psycho.” Asami retorts, catching Bolin off guard.
The boy perks up at the reference, almost knocking over his soda in excitement. “You know that mover?!” He exclaims.
“Are you kidding me? Of course I do! I’m kind of a nut for all those old classic movers.” Asami says, matching the boy's excitement. The two begin to exchange their analysis of their favorite movers as they wait for Korra and, hopefully, Mako to arrive.
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Once Korra had finished up in the locker room she bee lined straight for the door, knocking down a couple duffle bags on her trail. She was too eager to go confront Mako to slow down, throwing apologies over her shoulder. Her teammates simply rolled their eyes in amusement, already knowing the nature of their captain.
“Hey Korra, wait up!” Izumi calls out as the girl rushed past.
Pulling her hand away from the door knob, she turns to her teammate with a patient smile. “What’s up Iz?”
“I’m sorry, I know you’re in a rush but I was hoping I could talk to you about the game next thursday.” She says a little nervously. “I know I’m not in leadership or anything but I had some ideas that I wanted to talk to you about and maybe even help push into motion -”
“Izumi!” Korra interrupts amusedly, placing her hands on the other girls shoulders reassuringly. “I’d love to hear them. Why don’t we go talk in Coach Miyuki’s office?”
Stepping into the office, Izumi is taken aback by all the historical looking relics spread all through the room. The office is small, just about what you’d expect from a girls soccer coach. The walls are painted a deep red, worn out tapestries hanging all across them, each one painted in what looks like ancient japanese prophecies. There were bookshelves placed on both the east and west sides of the room, filled to the brim with old books and collectables. A beige couch and coffee table set placed directly to your right as you enter.
Korra notices Izumi's look of awe as she makes her way to the very back of the office, where Miyuki’s desk sat. She took a seat behind it as she addressed the girl still standing at the threshold, “First time in Miyuki’s office I see.”
Izumi chuckles as she’s snapped out of her thoughts. “This is definitely not what I was expecting,” she says as she takes a seat across from Korra. “Are you allowed to be behind her desk?”
“Oh not at all. She’d kill me if she saw me on her back here but it makes me feel so official.” Korra says with a laugh. “So, what did you wanna talk about.”
Izumi shifts in her seat, “Right so, I know we’re a pretty good team already. I mean I heard last year you guys actually made it to the semi-finals, mostly thanks to you and Kuvira.”
“Oh stop it, flattery will get you everywhere.” Korra interrupts jokingly.
Izumi laughs along before continuing. “ But we can always be better. I really think we need to get to know eachother better as a unit. You know, like the way we all think, I really feel like it would help us know eachother better on the field.” She finishes unsurely.
Korra thinks for a minute. As much as she hates Kuvira, she does know her very well from their time as friends, and Izumi’s right, it really does help her while they’re on the field.
“I think you’re right. We're all great players on our own but I think it’s time we become great players together.” Korra pauses for another minute to deliberate. “I’ll start drawing up some ideas for some group exercises and maybe t-
“That all sounds great but I actually have an idea on how we can start.” Izumi says quickly, cutting off her captain.
“Oh, what did you have in mind?” Korra asks.
“A party.” She replies quietly.
“A... party?” The taller girl says, contemplating. “ I love it!”
Izumi instantly visibly relaxes at this, chuckling slightly at the other girl's excitement. “A party makes perfect sense. The girls would be a little reluctant at the idea of bonding exercises but this will definitely open them up.” Korra continues.
“Yes exactly! It’s actually why I came to you and not coach, she couldn’t legally condone underaged drinking but I think it's just what we need. I read somewhere that breaking the rules together boosts team morale while at the same time bringing us closer together.” She says excitedly.
“It isn't much of a party with just us tho is it?” Korra contemplates out loud.
“Which is exactly why I think we should invite the boys team as well. They need this as much as we do and it would be pretty cool if we were more supportive at each other's games since one of us is always there waiting for the field.” She replies.
Korra laughs for a minute. “This is gonna be such a cliche.”
“Cliches are cliches for a reason right?” Izumi replies.
---------------------------------------
“Korra!”
Korra laughs as she sees Bolin jump out of his seat when she comes into view. “Settle down Bo, we don't want you throwing up that heart attack of a burger I assume you just swallowed whole.” She says as she walks up to the table.
“Who’s your friend?” Asami asks, smiling politely at the smaller auburn haired girl standing behind her girlfriend.
“This my raven haired goddess, is Izumi. She’s one of the girls from the soccer team.” She says dramatically as she introduces the younger girl. “And she is here, to help us plan a party.”
Bolin instantly perks up at the mention of a party. “Lets freaking goooo!”
The three girls chuckle at his antics, “Why don’t you take a seat next to Bolin Izumi. We have an extra burger with your name on it if you're hungry.” Korra says as she takes a seat next to Asami. Izumi instantly perks up as the raven haired girl places food in front of her and Korra.
“So it didn’t go well with Mako then?” Asami asks after giving Korra a peck on her cheek as Korra takes a bite of her burger.
“I didn’t actually get a chance to talk to him.” She replies once she’s swallowed her first bite. “But thanks to Izumi and this party idea, We’ll all have the perfect opportunity to talk to him.”
“What is this whole party about anyway? I mean don’t get me wrong I’m always down for a party, I’m just wondering.” Bolin says, turning to Izumi.
“Basically we’re just hoping it’ll boost morale and get the teams closer together.” Izumi replies, setting her burger down to speak. “It’ll be just the two soccer teams and dates and lots of alcohol.”
#legend of korra#avatar korra#korrasami#korra and asami#korrasami fanfiction#korrasami au#soulmates au#soulmate au
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Good grief, Charlie Brown.
I’ve never owned an electric toothbrush. I’ve never had a dishwasher. I am the dishwasher. I like washing dishes. I never bought an iron. I don’t have a hairdryer. I find it strange that I get advertised these reusable alternatives for things that I never use anyway. Alternatives to cling film. I put another plate over the dish. Alternatives to cotton buds. I use my finger. (Ew, you may say, but surely a finger’s that size to fit in ears and nostrils? Or whatever orifice you please. Wash your hawnds.) Alternatives to cotton wool circles. What? I dont know why these thoughts have come into my head, when I want to write about my youngest child. Really, I’m meant to be working, but an annoying email from my dead daughter’s school sent me down a suicide rabbithole. Perhaps those other thoughts come about as my classic brain avoidance schemes. Like when you hoover instead of doing an essay. Positive procrastination, I used to call it. I wanted to visit some friends last night- a fun thing! but I was feeling all solitary and awkward. I cleaned the bathroom ceiling at first, instead! I had to really talk myself into going to see them. I was looking at my bed and it was saying, “Get into me! and read your book!”
Then I went, and I had a lovely time, of course. I still finished the book I was reading, when I got home at midnight, until three am, making myself ever so tired. I’ve stopped taking the tablets- beta blockers and mirtazapine (more by accident rather than design. They’re still up in the chemist waiting for me. I’m rather disorganised) and so sleep doesn’t come as readily. I have to take deep breaths for ages sometimes, to get over. And I awake in the night hearing things that aren’t there. I heard The Woodcarver calling me, one night, plain and loud as day. Another time, I heard my son knocking my door three times, sharply (or was it a burglar? I said that to someone and they laughed. Burglars don’t knock! Oh, hello there, wake up, I’m robbing you blind!) Bounced out of bed. Heart hammering. Called him. He was fast asleep. Was it her ghost? I don’t believe in ghosts, really. Kind of wish I did. She’d be a mischievous one, no doubt. Is it always 5:57am, when I awake? The same time. Time to find your dead child.
I’m often in the house alone, now. They didn’t want to leave me alone, and there were so many people in the house, for ages. Then all of a sudden, it stopped. And I changed lovers... I changed to the one I’d been in love with for over a year, the one who seemed too young, the one who wasn’t interested. Suddenly he was interested. Well. It wasn’t sudden. It took a few weeks. Seven weeks? The seven week itch? It coincided with when the Scottish lover asked me to stop letting other people come to the house. He wanted me to himself. Which is kind of fair enough, though I knew it wouldn’t last anyway. (People coming to my house, I mean, not the relationship. I really enjoyed having a relationship with him. He is very sweet, funny, intelligent, and kind. The sex was great. He can cook wonderful food and play guitar well. I liked to sing with him. I am ashamed to say I was bothered by his being smaller than me, though. His face tended to itch me, too- he never quite grew a beard long enough to stop that. As he kept shaving it off, not because he couldn’t. That was the first time he kind of annoyed me, though.)
Lockdown doesn’t help, of course. We were all breaking rules in our grief. Covid is cancelled, my mother said. Masks off. Hugs all round. A friend told me you need extra oxytocin when you’re grieving. I was getting plenty of it. Good grief...
Now I am frequently alone, and as my new lover is very busy studying (or perhaps less interested in me again now that he has my attention back? Though his reticence in getting with me stemmed from his concerns about the uneven nature of our interest in each other...) I haven’t seen him all week. I feel myself becoming depressed, and withdrawn, and paranoid, yet I still don't feel particularly sad about my daughter’s death. Which is strange. Isn’t it? Here is the email I received from her school this morning (it had her name and class at the top of the email):
“Good morning
I hope this email finds you all well.
A number of years ago I signed the college up to the campaign against period poverty. I receive and distribute sanitary products to girls, primarily on free school meals, but any who are in need of the products and either can’t afford them or it is difficult to get them. The products are normally distributed by myself, during P.E and games, unfortunately this can’t happen at present.
These products are still available during the school closure. If you wish to avail of them, please contact our school info account (which is only read by one member of office staff) your request will be directed to me and I will contact you directly regarding collection.
These are difficult times for many at present and to quote my favourite supermarket, ‘every little helps’.
Kind regards...”
I was really with her until she quoted Tesco. And said they were her favourite!! Ugh! I mean, it really is a great idea. Though they really should check if the people they are writing about are still capable of bleeding. My heart bleeds....
I replied thus:
“Hello there.
Great idea, but as (my youngest daughter) has died, she won't be needing them any more. I hate Tesco- they ruin many little businesses.
Maybe take me off this mailing list?”
Then I attached one of her seven suicide notes: the one for school. Which I had previously not shown them. I only found it on Christmas Eve. Can I attach it, here? It has no names...
There we are. Is it wrong of me to find her notes amusing? She is so angry, people say. I wonder how much of it is literal, and how much of it is using the school as a big nameless scapegoat. She was funny in the rest of them, too, and very loving. I found them comforting, like a fucked up Christmas present.
Then I started reading articles about suicide, and they were about how we shouldn’t call the people who do it selfish, about how depressed they are, how they need pity, not anger. I’m tired of the pity (though I’m not the suicidal one). I’m not producing enough sadness from myself when people pity me, either. Where is my sadness? Am I too acceptant of it all? We are all going to die. Is suicide like a C-section? Is it cheating death, like I thought my Caesareans cheated birth? Is suicide self euthanasia? Why do I not miss my daughter more? Is it because she had already left? Was she released, happy, free as a bird, swooping away on an Awfully Big Adventure? Trapezing her way into the æther? I googled to see if I could find any positive reactions to suicide. Is this my nature, to try and find the good in everything? To try and make light of the horrific? Is everything a joke to me?
I found this blog post, from Andreas Moser.
I love it. Am I trying to take the blame away from myself? The NHS? The school? Should I be reeling and railing against the systems that let my daughter get into that state? Why am I instead trying to find ways to applaud her behaviour, accept it, even enjoy it?! When I read his words, “I admire their courage (because logical as it may be, it’s not easy) and the determination to make the ultimate decision in life oneself.” I felt a strange sensation of relief, that someone else could think those things. I had been thinking them, but trying not to, because it seemed like such an awful thing to think. But then I think, why does anyone else have to be to blame? It was her decision.
The book I was rereading is called Life After Life, by Kate Atkinson. It’s my favourite book, I have decided, for now. Do favourites stay favourites? I was looking at my old Couchsurfing Profile today (because of Andreas’ blog- he, as a hippy hermit, is, of course, on Couchsurfing). One needs to update these every so often. Explain that you have watched another film in the last twenty years, that there is one less sofa in your living room, one less child on your earth. Even though no-one is allowed to move around, really. No visiting. No exploring. Perhaps she killed herself to escape the boredom.
In Life After Life, the main character, Ursula, lives again and again. (I forgot that to live again and again, she had to die again and again. It's a very sad and graphic book, spanning two wars- read it. It is, ultimately, uplifting.) I wanted to read it again to make my daughter live again, and again. We need to write her alive. Show her drawings and paintings. Listen to her songs (they're hilarious). Read her poems. Admire her photographs. Tell the stories of her antics.
I know that really she was actually depressed and withdrawn. I know it isn’t a glorious escape. That her wee head was broken, and that sometimes it’s just easier to say, it was unfixable, she was determined, this is what she wanted, than to contemplate it as my (or anyone else’s) failure to help her. I know that she used to be confident and gregarious. She would have danced in front of people, inspiring others. She was always upside-down, tumbling, twirling, cartwheeling. She had a dry, cheeky wit, and rather an amusing obsession with poo and wee. She was kind, and wise. She liked to bake vegan treats. She could draw, and paint, and sing so beautifully. She played the ukelele, but by then she was hiding away. She had started to write poems- songs? She wouldn’t show us them. We had to beg her to perform on the trapeze for her Granny’s eightieth, in July. She did so, beautifully, but you could tell she hated the attention. Four months later, she hanged herself on it.
Had we all withdrawn into ourselves, this 2020? Was there really nothing else to do? Yet I remember the start of Lockdown seeming idyllic. All that free time, all that sunshine. Was I just trying to convince myself, as usual? The only people we saw were the Woodcarver and the neighbours. She taught the wee boy next door to ride his unicycle. When she died, he brought in a picture he had drawn, of them on their unicycles, she as an angel above herself, a rainbow arcing over the three figures. His sadness affected me. I felt like I could only be sad through other people. Where is my sadness? Where is my grief? Good grief, bad grief, no grief? Alternatives to grief.
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The Sawhorse.
Notes: this bad boy’s a direct, long-overdue sequel to the drawbridge which you can read right over yonder!!! Rating: she’s still sfw. Pairing: alucard / female reader. Word count: 3,321
“This place is a conspiracy,” you say with a half-glance over your shoulder. Adrian guides you from a decidedly rear position, you walk ahead of him with no idea of where you’re going.
“In what way?” he asks, you can’t help your smile. He takes everything so seriously, it’s charming.
“In the way that I don’t know for sure at any given point if the room I’ve just been in will exist once I’ve left it!” you exclaim and to your never ending joy, Adrian joins you in smiling. He seems bashful about the castle’s intricacies, disturbed by its strangeness. You like it here, absolutely, but it’s a learning curve.
“When I was a child I wondered the same thing. But there are a few, key rooms that always manage to stay in one place.” You slow your steps enough to let him fall in line next to you. Getting close to him in any sense is impossible, but he allows it this time.
“How polite of them,” you say. It’s honest facetiousness on your part, but you can’t help the little shiver that runs up your spine all the same.
This place isn’t haunted, he is. Adrian walks with memories of the living and the dead, you hear him whispering to the shadows sometimes. But it never fills you with fear, you’ve found. Only sadness, deep-rooted sadness that you wish you didn’t understand.
He’s sparse with personal details, but you’ve coaxed from him an admission that the large hole leading from the second floor corridor to the library was caused by a heroic attempt at patricide.
Adrian’s caught you in a tiny children’s bed room with a hideous bloodstain permanently affixed to the floor. You were apologizing for weeks and the door is now locked.
His home is largely, however, yours to explore. Despite the odd dissonance between the mystery of what happened here and the way he seems unwilling to feel things, you could be happy here.
All you wish for, you suppose, is a chance to help him.
You’ve never seen him cry but the remnants of redness around his eyes is unmistakable. There’s a monster in your woods and he is so terribly alone.
Perhaps it’s why you visit as often as you do. Your fascination with his mother’s life’s work is real, gripping you in a way you’re familiar with. But to say that the attraction is purely intellectual would be a blatant lie.
He has friends, this Adrian. One of them wields a whip and is a Belmont, something you have to learn how to accept. The stories, despite their exaggerated details, run deep. The other friend is a woman, the magic user with the quick hands. You could smell the crackling electricity of her power despite never laying eyes on her.
How difficult it must be for him to exist in the stillness of her wake with only a head full of too-realistic memories and lightning on the air.
It isn’t as if you’ve experienced any grand adventures with him. But as you’re taken back to the library you’re reminded that may not be so terrible a thing.
You watch the gaping hole in the wall. It does not move, never does but you can feel it watching you. You pick up books even still, months after the catastrophic battle and mourn a few, singed pages.
“Will you stay with me?” You ask when he begins to look uncomfortable in the space that should be home. It’s unfair to ask this him, you know it, but you can’t help but feel an all-consuming urge to give him company. He meditates too much in his father’s empty chair.
“If that’s what you wish,” he replies, “the filing here has certainly seen better days.” Adrian assumes the role of library catalogue and you don’t have the heart to let that stand.
“I know where things are,” you start, adding in at the last second, “but I wouldn’t rely on that, of course.” You hear a soft exhale behind you, a reserved laugh from your most esteemed companion. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
“Of course,” Adrian continues, but seems to consider what you’ve said more carefully. He hums, brief and tuneless as if contemplating the options before asking, “What about?”
“Things,” you say, it isn’t very helpful. You place a book back on a shelf and look at him again. His expression is unsatisfied. “You’re very nearly a patron of my studies but I know almost nothing about you.”
Only that he had a mother who died for what you’re attempting to continue. And his father was Dracula, wasn’t that a nasty shock?
“Perhaps it’s better that way,” he replies. It’s a dark thing to say, but he delivers it with the air-light tone that accompanies most of his jokes. You grin at him, broadly.
“I’d like to know you,” you aren’t sure why you decide on that, but it makes him break eye contact quickly. “Can I ask you something?”
After a short pause, Adrian makes his decision.
“Yes,” he says and he’s looking at you again. But the smile is gone from his eyes, they’re lukewarm and on the edge of confused. Rather than mill about between ruined stacks of books, you sink into a nearby armchair.
“What’s your favourite colour?” it’s a safe enough question, the first that popped into your head. Bizarrely, you admit, you want to see that smile in his eyes again. It works with some success.
“My what?” he puts thought into his answer when you repeat yourself with a childish giggle. The man makes a show out of it, sitting int he armchair perpendicular to yours and resting his chin on his fist. “I’ve never given it much thought. Perhaps burgundy, or purple.”
You chime in with your agreement on purple just as he turns his head. Windows are scarce in the castle, something you find deeply oppressive, but one is angled perfectly facing the north wall.
Adrian casts his eyes towards it and says, “Blue, actually. My favourite colour is blue.”
The daylight outside shines with a benevolence that he’s missed for years. Adrian doesn’t stare at it for very long, looking back to you as if he hopes you didn’t notice a thing.
It calls another question to your mind, one with heavier implications than a favourite colour. The pause makes him uncomfortable as you debate asking, but ultimately decide it’ll do no harm.
“You can walk in the sunlight?” you ask. After another beat, he nods. “Are all dhampir’s so lucky?”
“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never met another.” he looks at you with a terrible uncertainty that you want to end. You restrict your questions to surface-level stuff.
“Blue’s a good colour, it’s very heroic,” you say. You’re not sure why, but that makes him smile again.
“If you think so,” the conversation lapses into a comfortable silence after that, with books returned to their proper shelves. Every so often you’re distracted by something anatomical. You’re shocked at the sheer volume of manuscripts.
“My whole lifetime’s passed in the space between when some of these textbooks were written,” you say over your shoulder. Adrian hums, but the bridge of his thin nose is stuffed in a book of poems.
“It’s a shame,” he replies, as if to prove he’s listening.
“Isn’t it just? If there were more arguments about these sorts of things— perhaps a bit less fear of the church—” you’ve picked up a dusty-looking copy of Galen’s On the Natural Faculties and now sneer at the cover.
A complaint about taboos surrounding the dissection of human bodies for scientific purposes dies on your tongue when you look at Adrian. He’s stiff at the shoulders, no longer reading his book but instead staring at the far wall.
Something you said’s upset him, clearly. But he presents as otherwise unbothered a few seconds after you noticed. You frown and set Galen aside, ready to antagonize him another day.
“Adrian?” you ask. There’s a minute flinch when the sound of his name lands on his ears. “Did I—”
The book closes with a hollow thunk, placed on the seat-side table very quickly. You’re almost afraid he’ll stand and leave, leave you without even a parting word. But Adrian looks to you, his head cocked to the side.
“Did you what?” he asks. But you’re unfazed. Very few things your certain about, but you said something that concerned him. Still, if he doesn’t want to talk about it—
“Never mind,” you say, casting a sorry glance back at all the books. But you have to make up for whatever it is hurt Adrian. You hold out a hand and motion for him to follow you as you leave the room.
“Where are we going?” he’s beside you in a flurry of blond hair and black coat. It’s almost shocking, but you smile up at him and utter nary a gasp. You’re getting good at this.
The library sets you on edge, you want to say. You do not.
“Since you’re a daywalker, quite like myself, I thought you might want to walk. In the day, I mean,” you explain. You look at him so fondly, Adrian’s inability to speak for a few, precious seconds couldn’t have anything to do with that, right?
“You did ask me to stay with you,” he replies.
“Mhm,” you hum, “and you agreed. It’s too nice a day to be reading, I think I’d like to hunt for herbs.”
There is no room in the castle identified as belonging to you, but a little alcove on the second floor has become something of a home-away-from-home. Your basket sits there in the late-afternoon sunlight and your battered journal sits within it.
You take it on one arm and hold the other out for Adrian. That beaming, lovely smile makes him take it. He wants, quietly, not to see that smile fade.
“Do you get out much?” you ask, walking through the throne room that smells like old dead and dust. “Not a judgement, just a question,” you add.
“If you asked a handful of years ago, the answer would’ve been yes,” he replies. You’re nearly surprised he does. “It’s less true, now.”
“All the more reason to walk. The castle is stunning, but—” Adrian cuts you off as he glances at the high-vaulted ceiling. You’re given a quick, casual smirk.
“It’s as oppressive,” he begins, “as it is wondrous.”
“I would never say something so insulting about your home,” you reply with an air of faux-offence. Adrian’s nudged gently in the ribs by your elbow, a gesture that brings back sudden memories of a woman in blue robes. “But you have all the right to, I shan’t disagree.”
He recovers, not wanting a repeat of the scene that played out in the library. You walk very close to him, it’s not unpleasant.
The sunshine greets you when he pushes the heavy door open. It’s chilly, though lovely and you start off down the steps with Adrian in tow. If you were to look back, you’d see his momentary look of shock before it melted into sentiment.
You’ve done your best to wear a path away from the castle, but you veer off into the woods instead of taking him home.
You’re made happy by all the things meant to bring humans joy. There are smiles given to every delicate touch of nature, the singing birds and the rushing river winding onward towards a lake. Adrian’s never been there, you suppose. Perhaps one day you’ll convince him.
But not today, you tell yourself. This is just a short walk, something of an apology and a way to brighten his dour mood.
Adrian lets him leave you, in spite of how much he was enjoying your warmth at his side. You rush to the river, journal in hand to compare botanical drawings.
You left your pen in the alcove on the second floor, he noticed. It’s where you do your writing, the window with the best view to look out on. But, he knows as you skim through the pages of your mother’s medical journal, you’ve run out of space.
Nothing his father ever did was right, Adrian knows that. But he can still admit that the human tendency to dangle knowledge just out of the reach of those who could do it best is thoughtlessly cruel.
“Ah!” you exclaim and successfully pull him from his thoughts. Adrian’s not sure what it says about him that he assumes you’ve been hurt.
You’re on your knees by the riverbed, however, delighting in some plant of intense fascination. You look at him over your shoulder.
“Lavender bushes, Adrian!” you wave him over. “Not the most exciting thing in the world but exactly what I’ve been running low on.”
“How interesting,” he says. There’s an unexpected truth to the way he says it, like he might actually be interested. “What do you use it for?”
“Poultices,” you tell him, “something to ease aches and pains.”
He hums again, still interested but unwilling to leer over your shoulder. You stand with a fistful of purple buds and look them over very carefully.
“They’re good for sleep tonics, too,” you continue.
He can pinpoint the exact second another question pops into your head. It’s alarmingly charming.
“Do you sleep?” you ask. Before he can answer, you keep talking. “No,” you pause, before seeming to think the better of it, “what do I know?”
“More than most,” Adrian admits it easily. He’s smiling though he hasn’t fully noticed he’s doing it. It’s a truly welcome sight. “But I do— sleep, that is. In a sense. I did for a year underneath a city named Gresit.”
Your eyes widen, just as he expected them to. It’s uncommon he encounters fascination instead of horror.
Adrian lets the sun warm his face as you ask him the how, the when, the why.
“My father’s rage was limitless after the death of my mother,” he says. You tilt your head again, that curiosity abating for the sake of decency.
To your credit, you look genuinely sorry for his loss.
“He lashed out against me when I tried to stop him,” Adrian continues, “I needed time to recuperate.”
“You needn’t hear again from me how awful that sounds,” you say, “but you know your father was very sick when he hurt you.”
“Yes,” Adrian says. The light and the warmth and the beauty around him feels very cold all of a sudden. It’s distant, untouchable. Even in the face of happiness, he finds ways to make himself miserable.
You could read the sorrow on his face for miles, it’s what forces your hand. It makes you reach out, picking up not his arm but his cold hand this time.
Adrian allows it, though he’s uncertain as to why. His hand is held, palm-up as if expectant of a gift.
You thought once that whatever lived in such a hellish place might demand offerings. Blood, bones, body parts came to mind even though all you carried were petals. But flowers, you find, suffice when you put the prettiest-looking lavender spring in the cup of his palm.
“Beautiful and practical,” you tell him with a knowing smile, “not unlike yourself.”
Adrian stares at the flower to keep from staring at you. Its short, stiff petals are unbothered by the gentle breeze that’s blowing your hair away from your eyes.
You’ve never seen Dhampir tears, but for a moment Adrian is terrified that you might. His long fingers close carefully around the little spring, he summons up a thankful smile and swallows the lump pressing at his throat.
It’s difficult to describe, the way you speak about his father might be misinformed or lenient but they’re near-exactly how Adrian thinks of him. When you speak about a tired, lost, deeply ill man named Dracula it is with the full honesty that you’ve never in your life thought about killing him.
You never wanted to do him harm, Adrian wonders if something like that could ever belong in such a giving heart. You listen to the breadcrumbs of information he drops about the man who raised him, you pick through the underbrush like a magpie searching for little treasures.
Adrian misses Trevor every day, Sypha several times every day. But they never thought of his father as something once human. You do. You’re so very sorry.
“My mother’s name was Lisa,” he says very suddenly. “It occurs to me I never told you the name of the woman who’s body of work you now learn from.”
“Lisa,” you repeat, willing to let any prior topic lie still in the grass. Poor Adrian, you think. “I couldn’t find any names in the journals, they were all in first person.”
You reach into your basket, dropping lavender springs too ugly for his hand on top of the leather cover of your hand-me-down journal. But you touch the torn cover so gently, like comforting an old friend.
“She reminds me so much of the person I wanted to be— when I saw my mother work, that is,” you say.
“There’s far too much knowledge shut up in Dracula’s castle for it to waste away,” Adrian admits.
He’s managed to make eye contact again, his hand holding the gift of lavender is carefully placed in his pocket. It retracts, empty.
“I like to think it’s better for it to be read,” you start, “instead of ending up as bedding for the rats.”
Alistair’s soft, strange laugh rustles like the tree leaves overhead again. You’ve heard it before and tend to when you make jokes more macabre than would be welcome in polite company. You allow yourself to smile alone.
“It’s not my castle that’s infested,” he says, “but if it is, they likely crawled up from the old Belmont library.”
You resist the urge to shudder again at the name. You can’t help that you’re most familiar with lies, although Adrian hardly seems to notice your bodily, negative reaction.
“You’re so mean to someone you’re so fond of,” you say, “I hope to meet this Trevor Belmont one day, if only so he can know just how much you care.”
“And what makes you think I’m fond of him?” Adrian asks. His laugh’s died but his smile’s still there. He shows off two, white fangs without a thought towards scaring you. They never have before.
In fact, you lean in with your basket of flowers and grin back. No fear in your eyes, it’s the most beautiful sight he’s ever seen.
“You feel,” you tell him with a delicate huff. You’re moving again, stepping around his curiously tall form. At the last second, your shoulder brushes against him. “I’d have to be blind not to notice it.”
Adrian doesn’t know if it’s mercy that keeps you from jabbing at the sore spot of his emotions. He was open with Sypha and Trevor, for the most part. But you’re painfully new, potentially not to be trusted. But he doesn’t like the confidence with which you make such a statement, even if it is true. He doesn’t know your intentions.
You start off without another word, again. It’s becoming a habit, both you walking and him following. You take to the path again, swinging your basket. The half-turn of your head tells him you were at least slightly worried he wouldn’t come.
That extra smile, the one that makes it look best like you care is a needless addition. It only serves to strike his sternum, to make the inside of his chest thump with a useless heartbeat.
He’s never had need of it before, Adrian knows. He wanders back to the castle with you.
#alucard#adrian tepes#alucard x reader#adrien tepes x reader#castlevania#jazzhands#it's been like eight months did y'all miss me??#no?? cool!#anniewrites
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Survey #264
I did tell y’all WoW would devour my life again when I got my laptop back lmao. But I’m still alive!!
When you wake up to pee at night, do you turn on the light? You mean like, in the bathroom? Uh, yeah? When was the last time you got a fresh box of crayons? Damn dude, I don't have a clue. What color is your favorite towel? I don't have a favorite. They're all just random colors. Do you know anyone’s phone number by heart? Actually no, not since Mom got a new phone. I really need to learn it. Do you wear hoodies? Yeah, one Pikachu one. Something your mother said or did that shocked you: We were arguing and she tried to kick me out of the car once. Obviously I didn't listen. It was one of our worst arguments. How many different homes have you live in?We're in our fourth house now. WELL there's another if you count the apartment, but I didn't officially live there, I was just... always there even though it was against policy lmao. Then when we were technically homeless I "lived" with my former best friend, but again, that was not an official thing. Did your mom go to college? She is, though cancer has thrown a wrench in the plan... She's on her final semester of a bachelor's degree in social work. With cancer now plus this wild quarantine, we don't really know what's going on. Where is the best place you know to take a dog for a walk? We have a park maybe like 15 minutes from here that's pretty decent. Nice fountain, fishing docks, plenty of ducks. Are there any crazy sandwich combinations you like to eat? It's not "crazy," as I know it's actually tasty to some people: having lunch meat, cheese, mustard, and potato chips. I haven't had that in yeeeaaars. Which food do you think you have the most cans of in your cupboard? Uh. I'm not sure. We usually have fruit, beans, and soup in there, but I'm not sure which there's more of. Do you save fortunes from fortune cookies? No. Are you offended when Christmas is spelled Xmas? No. Do you prefer rugs or bare floors? Rugs. Describe your favorite mug or glass to drink from? I don't really drink from any. Your bad habit that you love the most: Heh, drinking soda... Do you name your pets after tv/movie/book characters: I have before, yes. Had a guinea pig named Harry Potter lol, rats named Tezzeret and Rhoka, and... that may be it. I am not positive, had a lotta pets... Have you ever died in one of your dreams? Yes. Which is tastier: fruity gum or minty gum? Fruity. Be honest, have you ever bullied anybody? Who was it? Oh my god, I was about to say no, but wait. When I first started RP at around 9, I had the impression you were supposed to always be in-character. Me, at the time my account being just "mozart2" (I don't count her as my first RP character though, she turned into Ruby and was drastically changed) on the Animal Planet forum, wanted to be the "dominant female," and one of the girls whose name was like Angelkiss or something was "mean" to me and so I reciprocated until I GOT FUCKING BANNED ON THIS ACCOUNT I'M WRITING THIS AND IT'S SO EMBARRASSING WHAT THE FUCK WAS WRONG WITH ME I HATE YOUNG ME SO MUCH. What is the cutest Halloween costume for a baby to wear? Idk. Is it a turn-off if somebody’s teeth are stained yellow? Not necessarily. Yellow doesn't mean dirty + everyone is supposed to have some coloration, and I can't say shit anyway 'cuz mine are kinda yellow from poor self-care in the past anyway. I just care that they're clean. Which of your friends is the tallest? Which of them is the shortest? Girt is a damn giant lmao. I only reach his chest. Shortest, I'm unsure. Do you know any quotes from Forrest Gump? Well besides the famous ones, no. HA, fun fact that cracked me the fuck up though, someone in the government in NC that is running for... something, there are sometimes like three signs in a row along the road that say "RUN FORREST, RUN" and I fuckin died the first time I saw it. Do you believe in demonic possession? How about ghosts? Angels? I don't believe in angels or demons, so. Ghosts, yes. Would you rather judge a singing or dancing competition? Why? Dancing, for sure. I'm more educated on the form and techniques, plus it's way more entertaining. What was the mascot at your elementary school? A bulldog. It was super cute, and in art class, the art students all worked together to make colorful, clay models that were in the principal's office. Everyone loved them. Have you ever fallen down in public? Did anybody see you? Yes and yes. Do you scream when you go on rollercoasters? Do you close your eyes? I'll probably never know 'cuz my ass is afraid of them lmao. I get dizzy too easily and I'm terrified of the potential of getting sick. Do you think home-made cards are better than store-bought ones? They're more thoughtful imo. What is one romantic movie that you enjoy enough to watch more than once? The Notebook. Who was the last person to walk out of your life, and why? By their volition, probably a Facebook friend. How did you decide upon your favorite colors? I didn't know you could pick your favorite color. Are you less likely to approach people that look/dress a certain way? Wow no. I mean unless they look obviously dangerous, like if they had blood on them or something like that. What is your favorite Starburst candy flavor? If you say anything but pink, you're wrong. Do you prefer schedules and plans, or spontaneity? Schedules. Sponteneity, usually, stresses me out. How do you let someone know that you like him/her? I mean idk. Act like it or say it. Do you think that you act like yourself while online? I'm more myself online. Have you ever lied about something to get someone to like you? Hell no. I'd want them to like me for who I actually am. Would you rather buy presents for others, or receive them? BUY, so long as I'm happy with what I bought and know it'll make them happy. How did you meet your current best friend? YouTube. The last song/poem/story you wrote - what was it about? I haven't finished it, but I'm writing a poem about the strength of cancer patients following Mom getting her hair shaved off. Are you a mostly blunt person? No, because I'm too afraid of starting an argument. Do you have any talents that come naturally? I guess writing since I've been applauded for it since I was very little. Do you go out often? Even before quarantine, not at all. I go out so little that my eyes seriously hurt when I step outside; I always have to squint or entirely close my eyes for a few seconds. What's the best Valentine's Day gift you've gotten? There was one year Jason got me a really pretty heart box of chocolates plus the game Heavy Rain and a pink rose. May still have a picture of it on my old phone... Is there anyone who is overly nice to you? No. It's hard to be "overly nice" in my opinion. Would you prefer internet or television? Internet. What is something you lose often? I'm not sure. Not a lot. Do you enter a lot of sweepstakes? I never do. How old is your oldest sibling? 30-something. Have you ever considered writing a novel? Yes. Who's the last person you said I love you to? Mom or Sara. What's your stance on spooning? What a question. It's comforting, but I usually can't actually fall asleep like that because I get too hot. Have you ever been "popular?" Nah, not really. Well, I was pretty well-known in the meerkat YouTube community as an editor, but not like, Yelozo level. Has someone ever tried to convert you? Well, I was a Christian when my sister's friend's grandpa made me like, SUPER uncomfortable by talking to me all the way home from school (he had to drive us this day) about the Bible and stuff because it was his "job" as a religious man and I kinda had to take this little Bible from him just to be nice. Even when I was a Christian I wasn't VERY religious and really really felt like he was hardcore shoving his beliefs down my throat. Are you thin? Ha ha no. Do you like big earrings? Heavy/big earrings ruined my ears, so no. The holes are too stretched now and is why I'm putting very small gauges in so it doesn't look as stupid when I put an earring in and it just barely hangs on because my ear lobe literally looks like it could tear. Animated character that was your gay awakening? HA, there's been a few that looking back, I definitely thought were more than pretty, even as a kid, like Sheego from Kim Possible. But #1? Holy mother of fuck, Bayonetta. That is one fuckin HOT MAMA. What show/YouTube video(s) do you put on in the background when you don’t have anything to watch but you want something on? Hmm. It really does depend on what I feel like semi-watching. Maybe like, a let's play where I'm not THAT interested in the game, but I still do listen and glance over. Your go-to bar order, if you drink? I've never been to a bar, but when I go out to eat and I feel like getting a drink, it's usually a margarita. What’s your favorite pair of shoes that you own? UGGGGHHHHH my tall leather boots with all these buckles and stuff. They're hot. What was your first word as a child (that wasn’t a variation of “Mom” or “Dad”)? I don’t know. What’s a job that you’ve had that people might be surprised to find out you’ve had? Nothing that's really "surprising." Just three ordinary minimum wage jobs. What’s directly across from you? My snake's terrarium. Do you own any signed books/memorabilia in general? No. ;-; I wish. What do you get on your bagels? What WOULD you get if you had access to anything you wanted? I've only ever had cream cheese. NO WAIT, I tried jam once and it was fucking repulsive. One bite and I was like "fuck no." I think it was strawberry jam though, which I hate. I'm not sure what else I'd try as idk what would taste good. Fruity or herbal teas? Neither. What’s that one TV show that you’re a little bit embarrassed to watch but you still like nonetheless? None. It's funny, as a kid when I thought I was "too old," I tried to hide the fact I still adored Pokemon, but for years now I've just been like "lol fuck yeah man Pokemon." What was your “phase” when you were younger? (i.e., Mythology Nerd, Horse Girl, Space Geek, etc) Being an emo/goth/metalhead thing was NEVER a phase, Mom. Goddamn do I wish I could afford a gothic wardrobe laksjdfawde. What’s that one outfit in your closet you never get the chance to wear but want to? There's no telling. I rarely check my closet for "special" clothes, but rather my dresser. Where do you sit in the living room (we all have a preferred spot, and you know it)? The couch. Are you a “Quote that relates to the photos” caption-er, an “explanation of where I took the photos” caption-er, or a no caption kinda person when you post pictures online? I'm all of them, plus sometimes song lyrics I find relevant lmao leave me alone. Name a classic Vine: YO that one of the dude looking for his berries with a WILD outfit, expression, and voice and then scares adventurers away from his tree made me fuckin cry for about 1,000 repeats. I miss Vine, man, good shit. What’s the freezer food that you stock up on when you go to the grocery store? We don't really "stock up" on any particular food. We do, however, tend to get a large box of frozen rats for Venus, if you can count that, but obviously that's not from the grocery store lol. How do you top your ice cream? Chocolate syrup mmmMMMMMMMMMMM Do you like Jello? Yeah. Do you have a fear, even only a slight fear of insects? I do. Do you have a favorite poem you like and can recall? If so, what is it? I don't have a favorite, no. Have you ever resided in a home that was haunted: *shrugs* I do think paranormal things happened in my last house, but idk about calling it haunted. Do you ever play any MMORPGS: Just WoW. What’s the closest river to you? Tar River. Have you ever been in a building with over 100 floors? I don't think so. What bird is the cutest? Oh, I don't know. Something small and pudgy lol. Are you scared to look at your own organs on x-ray or ultrasound? No, that shit is so cool. Have you ever held a real sword? No. What do you think about most? PTSD is v fun. My brain naturally drifts to relating topics when I don't know what to think about, which is most of the time. Certainly don't try to, but it just. Happens. Most attractive singer of your opposite gender? Hell man, idk. I do have a weakness for Kellin Quin though; he's the first to come to mind. What was the last film you saw in the cinema? The Lion King. What are you currently listening to? "Saturnalia" by Marilyn Manson. How many people have you kissed, that you can HONESTLY say you loved? Two. The last person to be under covers with you? Sara. What's the compliment you get the most? Uhhh I think it's "I like your tattoo" (referring to my Mark one). BITCH just wait til it gets tidied up for four hours. Have you ever disliked someone just because a friend disliked them? If they have good reason to, yes. I can't deeply dislike someone I don't know/have personally seen be a piece of shit, but I can sure not be fond of them until they prove unworthy of that judgment. Have you ever won a lot of money in a slot machine? How much? Never gambled and don't plan to. Do you eat/drink at your computer? Yes, oops. How much do you overeat at special occasions? (Birthdays, Christmas, etc) Actually, I tend to under-eat at most special occasions because odds are I'm not going to like the food. This isn't always the case, but yeah. Do you think it's important to enjoy your job or do you just work for money? I think it's very important to enjoy it. If you had to, which record would you go into Guinness World Records for? Probably the longest consecutive hours of not leaving the computer laksdfjawe I hate myself. Do/Did you enjoy school? Why (not)? From the very beginning, I hated school. It's why I was a goddamn monster to get up in the morning, even in high school. I only enjoyed (to a degree, anyway) my most recent college because it was a way to get out of the house and work towards my future. Do you find it difficult to sleep at night? Any reason(s) why? Boy, do I. Most recently, after being put on a medication for my nightmares/terrors (which works!), I have intense muscle spasms in my legs, oddly only when I'm falling asleep. Apparently it's a very rare side effect of it, but I'm willing to tolerate it in place of having nightly terrors. Then there's my PTSD and just general poor self-image that can both send me down a total spiral. Have you ever wished you were born the opposite gender? Why? Not legitimately. Like I've wondered what it would be like, but I've never truly wanted to be a guy. I'm just content with being what comes with being genetically female. Do you think you'd make a good model? Would you ever want to be one? Hell to the fuck no. Have you had an argument with anyone recently? If so, do you still have issues with that person? Not recently, no. Who was the last person that asked to hang out with you? Tell me the story of how you met that person, everything you remember. Hell man, I don't have a clue. Have you ever worn colored mascara? If not, would you ever think about trying it? And if you have, what is/was your favorite color to wear? No, but I guess, if I had a reason to? What do you remember about your first day of secondary school? Were you more nervous or excited about it? I very faintly remember I had no desire to be there. Before Facebook became popular, did you use any other social networking site, like Bebo or Myspace? Yeah, I had Myspace. Has anyone ever asked you out, and you turned them down? If so, did you feel guilty about it? Why do you think you said no? Yes, and not *really*, as I'm very strict with myself about whom I date. It's just awkward. And I just didn't like one guy romantically in elementary, my best male childhood friend was black (mind you I haven't been racist in the least since I was a tiny kid, I was just raised like that), and I knew Juan had a bad rep. Have you ever asked anyone “Do you love me?” If so, did you get the response you wanted? Do you think when someone says “I love you”, you feel obliged to say it back? Ugh. Let's not. I feel obligated only with family. Has someone of the opposite sex ever sang to you? If so, how did you respond to it? LET'S. FUCKIN. NOT. If you’ve had a bad experience in a past relationship, did you find that you were scared to get into another relationship, in case the same thing happened again? Terrified.
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✮ ˚✧₊⁎ In the dim light of the restaurant, Valentino gazed at Jorah and allowed his mind to wander. The little treasure hidden in the right pocket of his coat was starting to burn. It longed to find its place elsewhere, where he wanted it to be. It was incredible how something so little could mean so much; after toying with the idea for a while, he had been unable to resist its temptations.
Their trip had offered the perfect moment. The location was beautiful, and the deck was relatively empty. The lovely atmosphere and relative privacy were what Valentino wanted; however, even then he had to gather his courage to talk. The moment was far too unique to risk ruining it with clumsy words. Jorah, he was sure of it, was the woman he wanted. Their life would hopefully bring them together, resembling more and more an adventurous and romantic dream.
With a slow and gentle movement, Valentino reached for Jorah’s hand and caressed it. ❝You know,❞ he started with a warm smile, ❝sometimes it still feels like a dream. To think we were able to take our life back against the odds and make it better– it’s incredible. I don’t think it would have been possible without someone as amazing as you.❞
❝I always say I love you, but I firmly believe you deserve more than that. Words can be poetic, but you gifted me a lot more than a beautiful poem. You helped me change, gave me new hope. I don’t think anyone else was ever able to make me feel so complete and happy. You were the closest thing to a miracle I could have asked for.❞
❝Knowing I cannot stay with you every day must be hard–❞ he looked down for a second, ❝–but I want to promise you it won’t last forever. A day, not too far in the future, we will be together for as long as you wish. We’ll partners in crime and in life, sharing every moment. There is a lot more in this life I want to offer you; every little thing that can make your smile shine forever. If you will give me the honor to… accept my proposal, we could make all of this official.❞
Eyes fixed on hers, Valentino slowly reached for his pocket. His fingers carefully wrapped around the small form of the ring, firmly but gently holding it in his palm. ❝Will you accept this as a promise, Adila, my only love? One day, when you are ready and the time comes, I will ask you again, and I will give you the exquisite life you deserve. I will be there, no more running.❞ He placed the ring in her hand, eyes lucid with emotion. ❝I want you to hold onto it, know what it means and remember our relationship, our future, is already here for us. Step by step, we will build that dream you long for.❞
More often than not Jorah believed this all to be a dream. That one cruel day she’d wake up and learn Valentino was only a memory kept to dreams. But throughout these days and months together, Jorah was starting to learn to let go out that fear. Hearing Valentino say it, however, she did not expect. Nor did she expect such praises. Valentino had always been the stronger one, Jorah believed.
The praise given to her by him always felt so unfitting. However, he always appeared so very happy when he said them. How could Jorah dare to take that away from him? That happiness, the smile he’d get, a precious precious gift. As was any time with him. However frequent or infrequent that was then…so be it. Yet, she missed him each time he’d need to go. A day, a week, a month–all their own separate eternity.
But just as he said, it wouldn’t be forever. There’d come a time when she wouldn’t have to worry about waking up alone. Then, they’d be– “ A day, not too far in the future, we will be together for as long as you wish. ”
…What? Jorah gave him a puzzled look, the pieces didn’t seem to fit together at all. Did he receive some type of job offer? Something that’d keep him close by more often? But what? The more he spoke he more confused Jorah became. “ There is a lot more in this life I want to offer you. ” What more? He’d given so much already, every happiness she held now was in someway connected back to him. What did he–?
And soon that confusion morphed into horrific hope. “ If you will give me the honor to… accept my proposal, we could make all of this official. ” This is…no it can’t be. Jorah watched his hand move to his pocket like it the only sight in the world. No, stop–he isn’t..! Look away, there’s not going to be anything there. This is it. This is the moment Jorah’d wake up. This is when the truth’ll hit. This when her dream will end and reality will continue. No, I don’t want this to end. Please don’t show me, I don’t want to wake up! Jorah braced herself. This is it. It all ending–
“ Will you accept this as a promise, Adila, my only love? ” It was…there. Not an empty palm, not an empty bed, but a ring. A sweet and darling ring meant for her. Their promise to be together truly forever. This is real. The dream was no such thing at all. It was reality.
Red painted lips trembled and shook. Breath tried to force its way in and out of her lungs but the tremors in her chest beat much too hard. Shoulders stiffened and tightened up like forming steel. Lavender eyes once dry now a flood pushing at a dam. Words came together in pieces–too many of them to make its way from her throat. Bouncing and colliding into each other, marring them into a weakened whimper falling from quivering lips.
No matter how wet her eyes became Jorah could see the ring, now placed in her hand, so very clearly. It was beautiful, the most beautiful grace that she could ever hope to see. That ring was not just that. It was their future. It was their love. It was going to be everything. Fingers curled around it gently, softly. It was not the dream she should have feared losing. It already hers. A dream that became a true reality. The waiting was not eternity. Eternity was now.
-“V–V–…”- she tried, Jorah tried desperately to speak. Trained to be skilled with words from the moment she could comprehend them she found herself unable to speak. Jorah knew not, for the first time in a long time, what to say. Her actions guided her in their stand. Pushing herself form the chair, leaning over the table in a flash, Jorah wrapped her arms around his neck.
The answer came in a series of frantic nods over and over again. No dam could hold back this flood now. Freely they rolled from her lashes and to her cheeks, taking with them a stain of her once pristine makeup. -“M–on…rêve..”- hiccups laced syllables one after the other, -“ Sa–ns toi, je– ne suis rien…!”-
-“My..dre–am is alrea–dy here…!”-
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Empty (August 16, 2018)
I want to have sex. I want to give in to the human desire to fuck. I want to watch someone squirm and push and pull knowing at that moment I am inside of them, an act so taboo in my upbringing that my mother will be ashamed.
I feel sick. I feel almost nothing and yet feel an overwhelming desire to feel things so intensely. I want to stare down the barrel of a gun and beg for my life. I want to feel the terror, the blood pumping through my veins. I want to be helpless and vulnerable. I want to yell and scream and break something. I want to leave it all behind, video games, TV, phones, internet, school I want to run away. I want to never look back and trek out on my own. I want to touch people's lives with music and I never want to speak to people again. I want to die. I want to close off from the world. But not dying isn't what I really want. I either want to not exist or to be saved. I can't quite tell which. I want to fuck. I want to partake in the action so grotesque according to my family, yet so thrilling. I want to be touched, in every sense of the word. Emotionally, physically, sexually. I want to feel wanted and desired. I want to be wanted and desired. I want to feel used almost. I want to feel human connection and I want to be left alone, rotting in my room wondering whether to scroll through Instagram again or fucking kill myself. I'm a walking contradiction with no solution, a disease with no cure. I'm a jumble of two parts depressed and three parts lonely mixed in a thousand different ways. I wanna die I wanna fuck I wanna sing I wanna shout I want to know what it's like to feel things again I want to fucking feel human.
I don't remember the last time that was. I've felt like a monster longer than I can remember I try to make people loved and I make them feel horrible. I try to be humble and there's a part of me terrified that I'm a genius, and an asshole, and a piece of shit that has done nothing for this world and that no one wants to be around. Do you know how horrible it is? I can physically feel when my brain isn't working right. I can feel when I'm not as smart as I used to be. I don't wanna sound like an asshole but maybe I am, maybe all I am is a big fucking jerk who sits on his high horse thinking underneath my thoughts that I am the smartest in the room and could solve any problem. Any problem except my own. The problem of my existence. I'm terrified of being alone and for two days I've been alone when I'm at home and it's almost killed me. I spent three hours playing guitar today all by myself and was perfectly fine. Maybe alone isn't what scares me. Maybe what scares me is being in my own company. Because when I'm with me I can't hide from myself. I don't have anyone to put on a good face for, I don't have anyone to hide myself from so I lay on the floor and give up. When I'm with people I'm fine, because I can't let them see who I am, I can't let them see the truth. I'm still just a child, stuck forever scared of losing the pieces of my whole world one by one. Scared and lonely, but never letting anyone see. Never letting anyone see..
I don't know what this is, a confession maybe. Maybe just talking through my thoughts. All I know is I am alone here at home, those I knew I don't feel they love me like they used to and I'm losing contact with the people at school and I know it's not fair to put this on you but right here and right now I spend hours on my phone waiting for you to respond because you're the only person I talk to anymore. Often times the conversations don't go very far and that's ok, it's not your obligation to talk with me, I get it. I know you're busy and have a life, I know sometimes talking with people is hard and it's easier to ignore them I don't hold that against you, I've done it too. I know I'm a needy bitch, I'm well aware of that. I don't mean to put that role on you or guilt you into trying to take it and I probably shouldn't have even told you that. I'm sorry, I don't wanna guilt you into anything. I just feel so alone and maybe I'll go to bed on time tonight and wake up tomorrow at like six or seven and actually do what I need to do and get my life in order and be fine or maybe I'll stay up late and ruin it some more. Maybe I just want to talk to make a sound. Maybe the true confession is that when I'm scared of being left behind and left alone again that I tell people about it to guilt them into not leaving me too. Maybe I really am the smartest one in the room and playing off everyone's emotions to further my own goal. Maybe I really am just an asshole.
(From a confession to a friend)
(Edited to keep both parties anonymous)
-For Poems and Lyrics
#poetry#poets on tumblr#poet#sad#confessions#what does love even feel like#I don't know anymore#depression#sadness#poems on tumblr#from my archives#fuck
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