#and now that people are jumping on the band wagon one part of me is like 'FUCK YES BISHOP CLANCY CONTENT OMNOMNOM'

[clancyismylover]

The fact that the CIancy Bishop theory is growing in popularity/might become canon in the lore like RIGHT AFTER I MADE A LIL INDULGENT AU ABOUT IT gets me every time i feel equal parts excited and terrified

[thetombedspirit]

Wednesday Headcanons and My Theories for Season 2

HEADCANONS

1. That wasn't Tyler!

It is my personal headcanon that antagonist!tyler is not Tyler but rather a whole other person. After all, the story of Jekyll and Hyde is that they were two people sharing a body: the respectable scientist and the homicidal serial killer. Kinda like Flayed!Billy from Stranger Things; the Hyde, his alter ego is dormant, but once Laurel gives commands, he's activated.

And like the f@#!ing grooming b!+ch she is, Laurel will name it Garret like a creep. I’M SORRY, BUT MY BRAIN THOUGHT OF IT AND NOW IT WON’T LET IT GO!

2. Not a Love Story

Honestly, I feel like a love story so soon into the show, especially a love triangle, was jumping the gun SO MUCH, especially for such a stoic character like Wednesday. It just made no sense to me realistically. Like, maybe after some more ‘evolving’ on Wednesday’s part in terms of friendship, then maybe she could consider ‘romance’ in season two, but as it stands now, it’s just a little weird for me personally.

And in terms of LGBTQA+? I’d headcanon Wednesday as a demiromantic asexual.

My Theories for Season 2

1.Tyler Redemption Arch

With Laurel gone (either dead or incarcerated), Tyler is supposedly left without a master. Or maybe Wednesday’s his new master with her victory over Laurel (kinda like Teen Wolf’s Matt and Gerard). This could leave Tyler to learn to control his Hyde side and maybe make amends with Wednesday and the other Outcasts. I wouldn’t jump back into romance with this story arch, but who knows?

2. Morning Song In Charge

I have a theory that with the dearly departed Principle Weems out of the picture, Morning Song, the mysterious siren cult Bianca’s mother’s involved in might take advantage of the vacuum to earn a couple more dollars, which could mean some sinister changes to the school. Like Umbridge levels of sinister. And Bianca will have to be forced to take a stand for her friends, her Nevermore family, when it goes too far.

3. Looking Through Sunglasses

So, the stalker has been theorised on multiple times and one of suspects with Yoko Tanaka, a vampire student who is not only a member of the Nightshade Society, giving her resources and opportunities, but is also one of the only cast members who doesn’t have much dialogue, or any, during the whole show’s runtime. The only instance we actually see her speak is in the application video.

Not only does her status as a member of the Nightshades give her time and resources, but she was also the one who Enid roomed with when she lost her patience with Wednesday. And with Enid being the go-to gossip hound, I’m sure Yoko soaked up all the information about Wednesday’s investigation and tendencies.

And don’t forget, Rowan Laslow, an excommunicated member of the Nightshades, was antagonistic towards Wednesday before his untimely demise. Maybe Yoko decided to jump on the Wednesday-Be-Gone band wagon after the whole Crackstone scenario, deciding that Wednesday was a force to chaotic to leave unchecked.

So a little friendly warning should go a long way. Right?

4. Goody will be the final antagonist

I don't believe Goody is really gone, not so soon into the game, anyway. Morticia told Wednesday that while Goody was a powerful witch, her vengeance and power consumed her ‘until she couldn’t save herself’. And whilst healing Wednesday, she smiled almost in relief, but not the sort of "yay, I saved you!" relief; more like a "this is working out better than I hoped" relief.

So I believe that as season 2 goes, Goody will slowly come to possess Wednesday's body, taking control and performing her magic once more: all in a nefarious plot to exact her vengeance on Jericho and Normies once and for all. And it'll be up to her Outcast friends to save her and help her fight back, despite Goody claiming that Wednesday was descend to be alone.

Right now, I’m playing it out almost like the boss battle in Scooby-Doo! and the Witch’s Ghost!, where Wednesday is fighting for control, whilst the others are fighting to keep hold of Goody’s Book of Shadows to try and find the spell that will save Wednesday.

Anyway, those are my personal headcanons and theories for now! Hope you enjoy and I can’t wait to find out more!

[pico-digital-studios]

Into, Across and Beyond!: The Game!

Hey, all! As part of an effort to further potential with my Tumblr project, I have a huge announcement to make for you all. Introducing...

An official game adaptation of Sonic: Into, Across and Beyond!, and boy, will it be a treat to behold, huh?

The game has started development today, and you'll be able to look forward to:

Each of the stories in gameplay form

Over 20 playable characters

Plenty of cutscenes to enjoy

Interactive environments to explore

Epic boss encounters with many rogues from the Sonic multiverse

And so much more!

I really hope you're all looking forward to-!

OMT!Tails: Woah woah woah! Hang on a moment.

Huh?

OMT!Tails walks into frame.

OMT!Tails: The story's barely 6 months old yet, and you're seriously pitching a game for it?

Ah, right. I forgot.

CR!Sonic and CR!Sally show up.

CR!Sonic: You okay, Tails?

OMT!Tails: You guys might want to look at this.

CR!Sally: A video game of all our endeavours? Seriously?

CR!Sonic: Looks like it. How would it even work out, though?

OMT!Tails: I doubt it'd ever see completion, though. I mean, over 6 quests to fill out into gameplay form? That'd take AGES, and it's likely going to risk cancellation partway through the process.

CR!Sonic: Yeah, you got a good point there, kid. I mean, can't people just enjoy the stories as they are? They're not meant to be "played".

OMT!Tails: Yeah, exactly. Especially after what I've been through...

CR!Sally: I get you, Tails...

CR!Sonic: Into, Across and Beyond! is meant to be a story project for free and for fun! Pico doesn't have the time or energy to dedicate part of his life to making a game. I bet those children and hate band-wagoners on Twitter would just jump at any opportunity to hate on it for petty reasons. And that's why they have so much-!

D-Sides Mighty enters.

D-Sides Mighty: What's going on here?

OMT!Tails: Oh! Hey, Mighty.

D-Sides Mighty: A game, huh? Don't people have enough Sonic fan-games to play?

CR!Sonic: That's what I've been trying to get at, bud. I mean, the story here on Tumblr's satisfactory enough.

OMT!Tails: Wait, "Tumblr"?

CR!Sonic: Hmm?

OMT!Tails: I thought it was called "Tumblelogs".

CR!Sonic: It was! Well, used to, anyway. I'm guessing it's still called that in your dimension?

OMT!Tails: Mhm.

D-Sides Mighty: Yeah, we don't need to go for a game of this, considering the Spider-Verse IP is copyrighted.

OMT!Tails: Hmm... Give me just a moment!

OMT!Tails spins around the lower text, tweaking it a bit.

OMT!Tails: There! Better?

CR!Sally: Much better! Well done, Tails!

D-Sides Mighty: Well, that's one situation we can finally close the book on, wouldn't you say?

CR!Sonic: Yep. Come on, Sal. Let's head back now.

CR!Sally: Good idea, Sonic.

The couple headed off.

D-Sides Mighty: Wanna go grab a bite at Burger Monarchy, Tails?

OMT!Tails: Sure thing!

They left too.

Well, that's that, then. You're NOT getting that game. In the end, it was a cleverly-veiled April Fools' gag!

Happy April Fools' Day, folks! You've got all there is so far of the story to enjoy here from the comfort of Tumblr. Plus, I've been generous enough with each post to compile links to every post for this project on a Master Post that you're more than welcome to view on my profile. Well, see you around in the next post!

...

...

...

...

???: It's all the same for your heroic delusions. That is, until you finally meet ME. I already won because I was two steps ahead and found a way to tap into what I desire most. You think a hero of Mobius, let alone a type of Sonic, always has a chance against Dr. Eggman? HA! Don't make me laugh. I ripped that hope to pieces for my Sonic long ago. And soon, with the power of MY Chaos Emeralds, all other universes will follow... Now, you'll all see how big a man I can be. It's time to say goodbye to humanity, heroes...

???: And hello... to the NEW NORM! HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

The reveal of the final main antagonist... coming soon.

[jourdynarmstrong]

I enjoyed listening to Max Strossel talk and reading Emma Rathbone’s article. Max offered a lot of insight into how much social media controls us. I really liked when he said “Are we using social media or is social media using us?” It is crazy, and kind of scary, to think of it from that perspective. Rathbone’s article was just fun! Each of the different examples of silly things to do “before the internet”. It took me back to when I was younger. You had to use your imagination and be creative to entertain yourself. It seems so much more rewarding that way.

I think these two sources were meant to be eye-openers about the effect of social media. But, it wasn’t very eye-opening to me. I started figuring these things out on my own about 9 months ago. I was never a social media junkie but I found myself scrolling through Instagram to see the reels (I never jumped on the tik tok band wagon) or refreshing Snapchat to watch people’s stories and I got sick of it. One day, without hesitation, I deleted Instagram and Snapchat. I haven’t gone back. I still have Facebook so that I can stay “relevant” and keep up with family and friends through that app. But, I set my time limit to one hour a day. Sometimes I go over that on days that seem to drag on, but for the most part I try to stick to that limit and stay away from social media as much as possible. It has been refreshing. I read more, and I’m more focused on school, work, and relationships. I feel like I have grown a lot as a person since I deleted those apps, and I’m not just saying that. It is very true.

About a year and a half ago (while I still had Instagram and Snapchat), I travelled to Belgium with my boyfriends family for two weeks. None of us had cell service while there unless we were “home” and connected to WiFi. It was awesome! We talked a lot and spent a lot of quality time together. Again, it was refreshing. Social media wasn’t even an option and we had so much fun. We played games. It was like being a kid again, unaffected, “before the internet”. I’ll share a picture of my boyfriend and his brothers pulling their Grandpa on a rope swing. We all took turns and did this for hours with people ranging from under ten years old to their Grandpa in his 60’s. It was so much fun and I don’t think any of us were even thinking about our phones. We just enjoyed the moment. This is a very fond memory from that trip!

I would say that I have already done things to be more intentional about my social media use. I could definitely still use it less than I do (I’m talking about Facebook), but I am pretty happy with where I am at. Facebook is still social media, but I keep up with people that don’t use other social media and I find a lot of useful information there like articles or job information. I am very glad that I deleted the other apps. I spend my time much more efficiently now. At times when I would usually scroll Instagram, I pull out a book or do homework, or go outside, or play games with friends and family. All things that are much more captivating and rewarding to spend my time doing. I highly recommend it!!!😀

[seacottons]

sir kiss me ; — c. san x reader

pairing: choi san x reader

wc: 4.7k

synopsis: if only you knew how much of a monster your soulmate was, you would've never went out of your way to look for him.

notes: circus!au, soulmate!au, magician!san, supernatural beings, violence, drugging, kidnapping, brief unconsented touching.

Nobody knows why or how, but everyone is born with an intangible red string tied around one of their fingers. It's said that the string is connected to one's heart, a figurative extension of the aorta. No one can see any other thread but their own.

It stretches for a few yards and suddenly cuts off, fading away into nothingness.

On the other end of every string is a person's soulmate, and only when the two meet, the other half of the red thread becomes visible.

The red string symbolizes the unification of two intertwined destinies; it is a force so powerful that no one can comprehend the mechanisms of it.

 Every one in this world will meet their soulmate eventually, and when they do, their string becomes as taut as guitar strings, and they have a longing tug in their hearts towards their partner.

You've noticed lately that your red string doesn't dangle in the air as much as it used to before, nor does it pool into a mess when you sit idle. It's become a bit stiff, and you have no idea why. 

You've been living alone in this fairly large town for years, and never has your string come this close to being taut and rigid. 

Not much has changed. Life took its usual mundane path.

The wind undressed all the trees of their gold and red leaves. Wagons in the town's markets were filled with heavy goards and pumpkins, and the scent of fresh bread and roasting chestnuts continued to fill the air.

For that reason, you had a small assumption that maybe it had to do with the sudden, traveling circus appearing in town. Their steam train was parked behind the eastern part of town, the colorful logo of Circus Wonderland standing out amongst the earthy terrain. Advertisements were plastered onto the town's stucco buildings, and no one could miss the the immensely large chapiteau the workers have been setting up for days now. 

You were quick to snag a pass, knowing they'd run out quick with how much the townsfolk craved amusement and entertainment. The opening night was flocked with a large and impressive crowd, but thankfully, you arrived in time to have a seat right up front. 

With the influx of people around and lack of breeze, you felt yourself heating up quite uncomfortably. A whisper of autumn's breeze danced your way with every flap of the tent's curtains as new spectators walked in.

Swallowing nervously, you peered down to your lap, gaze trained on the taut, red string tied around your finger. Your instincts had been right after all. A sudden feeling of uneasiness washed over you.

You hadn't mentally prepared yourself to meet your soulmate. What will you tell them? Will they like you? What if they end up not wanting to be with you? What if you end up not even finding your soulmate in the first place?

A round of applause and cheers filling the arena ripped you from your thoughts. You perked up to see a young ringmaster welcoming the crowd with a charming smile and sweet words, a few strands of blue hair framing his face. 

His voice blared over the microphone in his hand, introducing himself and announcing the next few acts to come, the very first being equestrian demonstrations.

A wave of gasps rushed from the spectators as a sudden herd of horses rushed in from the back of large big top, their braided and bejeweled manes bouncing in the process. Colorful headdresses, bridles, and feather plumes adorned each horse as they all trotted in a uniformed circle around the ring curb with such precision, it left everyone in awe. 

The equestrian master, Mingi- if you recalled the ringmaster's words, stepped onto the center of the ring, beaming quite proudly at all of the horses who bowed their heads to the crowds. He tipped his leather hat at the band in the back to signal the start of his performance, and the dozens of horses instantly snapped into motion. Some galloped with the beat of the drums, while others performed tricks and posed for the starstruck spectators.

The performance came to an end too quickly for your liking, and you subconsciously found yourself clapping enthusiastically at the bowing master and his horses, your jaw slack with wonder and amusement.

Uniformists rushed out to clear the ring of the props and prepare for the next act. You quite enjoyed the ringmaster's charming ways of exciting the crowd. Despite his small stature and pretty face, you can practically feel the waves of authority he exuded. One sharp look to the band and they cease their music instantly. One snap of his fingers and the uniformists quicken their pace even more so.

The circus was filled with amazing entertainers and performers. Clowns and elephants were a light-hearted, comedic act, but the ventriloquests, jugglers, escape artists, and contortionists were just as entertaining. A few performers that stood out were the death-defying, trio acrobats who went by the name YunWooSang. 

The white safety netting proved useless as the three seemed to fly in the air as they jumped excitedly onto the trampolines and swung from trapeze to trapeze. One of them even daringly made it across the tightrope whilst blindfolded. 

The red haired man with inhumane strength was also one of the highlights of the show. Metal, wood, and cement bent to his will and strength. For comedic relief, the ringmaster gave the unamused man a sack of freshly waxed apples, whispering in his ear and gesturing to the crowd. The other merely rolled his eyes and nodded, turning his attention to the red fruit. The crowd cheered as the ringmaster bought the microphone to the man's stoic face as he belted out graceful notes, all the while snapping the defenseless fruit in half and throwing the pieces into the frenzied audience.

The tall, black haired tiger tamer bowed to the applauding crowd before exiting the arena after others quickly moved the three large felines to the back. The crowd grew deafly silent as the white suit-tailed ringmaster made his way towards the illuminated center. With just a shot of his hand in the air, the music ceased abruptly. Even through the dark, you can make out the uniformists rushing to settle new props around the ring's perimeter.

"Did you all enjoy Seonghwa's act?" He threw a smirk to the restless crowd, shaking his head in amusement at the wave of enthusiastic cries, "Alright, then. We saved our best and biggest act for last," a roaring drum roll suddenly erupted from the band in the back, and the lights dimmed considerably, "For the grand finale tonight, ladies and gentlemen- please give a warm welcome to our very own illusionist and magician, San!"

Within an instant, after the lights above illuminated the entire arena, your breath caught into your throat. The deafening applause now suddenly seemed miles away and underwater, your own heartbeat dominating every audible sound around you. 

The past performances were so entertaining, that you completely forgot about the initial reason you came here in the first place. 

Raising your hand up ever so slightly, your eyes trained onto the taut string tied to your finger. It had become as stiff as a guitar's and no longer sagged like power lines. Your eyes roamed from past the metal bars, onto the arena, and finally stopping to the man in all red attire standing proudly in the center ring. He raised his hand in greeting, the string between the two of your forms rising with every movement of his hands. Behind him stood several of his assistants.

You suddenly shrunk into your seat, stuffing your hand into your coat's pockets and holding your breath. You couldn't even decipher the words escaping his mouth, the gears in your mind suddenly reeling to a halt. All you knew was that he had the smoothest voice you've ever heard, and your stomach flipped just as much as the acrobats did.

If he noticed the completed string stretching into the crowd, he didn't show it, instead going on with the show. He performed several jaw-dropping acts with the help of his assistants. 

You were too mesmerized by the acts that you failed to notice the magician's red eyes lingering on your form.

The crowd laughed light-heartedly when the magician gave one spectator a scare with one of his tricks. He smiled and tipped his head down apologetically.

"For the next act, I'd like to have one of the spectators come down and volunteer," San's rich voice boomed within the arena. Several hands shot out in excitement, the majority wanting to jump at the opportunity to witness the illusionist's tricks first hand. 

San's eyes flickered onto numerous spectators, before his traveling eyes stop at your form. Your heart rate spikes instantly, breath ceasing in your throat at the smile he shoots you. A red gloved hand reaches out to point at you, and you notice it's the same finger with your string tied onto it. The excited shouts slowly come to a dying halt, and San waits patiently for the crowd to cease their talking.

"You," he drawls out, making you sink a little further in your seat. Was it possible he was pointing to the person behind you?

"The one with the red string," his words only affirmed your suspicions, "Please come down here."

The people shuffle in their seats, hushed murmurs traveling like waves within the crowd. Many wide eyes ogle at your form, while a few people from the crowd congratulated you in regards to your completed red string. 

You gulped thickly, quickly shaking your head at the magician, who in turn rolled his eyes at your meek reaction. With a snap of his fingers, you're engulfed in a puff of smoke before finding yourself standing in front of him in the center arena. Your stomach lurched at the sudden change of gravity, knees wobbling and arms desperately reaching out to grab at the man's velvet coat to stop yourself from falling. You swallowed down the sensation of wanting to vomit your innards and took a deep breath before the magician helped stabilize your form upright with a light-hearted laugh, "I apologize for that, my dear."

"How did you do that?" you ask weakly. He gives you a look of amusement.

"A magician never reveals his secrets," he murmurs as he gazes down at you speculatively, brow quirking up as he takes ahold of your hand, where the string barely stretched an inch between the two of you now. He was so much more handsome up close. You felt the tips of your ears warm at the sudden realization of the close proximity between your frames. A feeling of self-consciousness washed over you, and you could only wish such a moment like this occurred without hundreds of eyes watching you, "If I had known I were to meet my soulmate today, I would've put on a much better show for you."

He spoke into his microphone headpiece, voice echoing within the arena. You hadn't noticed the way the ringmaster's gaze darkened from the back of the arena, eyes suddenly watching your form quizzically. A few heads popped from the back curtain, and hasty whispers were exchanged between the other performers and the ringmaster. The scattered applause around you startled you, and you smiled in embarrassment at the magician, who in return brushed a strand of your hair behind your ear, "Your name, beautiful?"

"Y/n," you shoot him a small smile, eyeing the red and black triangles painted onto his eyelids.

He grips your wrist, pulling your arm upwards before announcing to the crowd that you'll be a part of the final act of the show. He maneuvers the microphone from his face to lean down and whisper into your ear, "How well do you do with heights?"

You drew in a fortifying breath in an attempt to calm your erratic heartbeat, "Not so well, actu-"

He brings a cup to your lips, and you wonder where on earth he had managed to obtain it seemingly out of the blue, "Here. This'll help with the nausea in case." You eye the liquid contents warily, and he notices with a simple quirk of his brow, "Don't worry. It's just some of our liquid magic. A befitting name, right? Nothing harmful."

You down the liquid and wince at the burning sensation in your throat, and you assume that it's only some type of alcohol. You listen intently to the magician's instructions, eyes trained onto his red eyes that shined like rubies. You feel his breath ghost your face as he points up towards the thin tightrope up above. You hardly concentrate on his words, too preoccupied with dazing at his chiseled face. He was absolutely breathtaking with wide shoulders and black tresses framing his face.

"Is there a word I can say if things get too overwhelming?" 

He casts you a look of amusement, lips quirking up, "A word?"

He gives it some thought, before snapping his fingers, "I've got it. Three words actually. Say them anytime, and I'll stop the act," a glint of mischief flashes within his eyes as he faintly brushes the pad of his thumb across your lower lip, "The magic words are: Sir Kiss Me."

You want to smile at the play on words, but your nerve-wrecking thoughts left no room for humor.

He gives a simple nod to the band and they begin playing.

 Two of the three acrobats suddenly joined the two of you, the men running into the arena with nothing but tight fitting trapeze pants, their broad shoulders and chiseled muscles on full display. One of them eyes your form up and down with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"San, you're one lucky bastard if that's your soulmate," the raven haired male shoots you a flirtatious wink, ignoring the daggers the other shot at him.

"Shut up and get to it, Woo," San ushered one of the acrobats to begin performing their previous act. The black haired trapeze artist ran a hand through his long, inky locks, throwing the magician a mischievous grin. While jumping from the trampoline up to the trapeze, the sound of a loud bang startled you and the spectators. A puff of smoke erupted around the acrobat, and when it cleared, he was nowhere to be seen. 

The magician snapped his red leathered fingers once more, another bang following afterwards. The lights suddenly directed towards the back, where the very same artist waved enthusiastically to the crowd. 

The crowd grew silent when another bang sounded from up above. The drums and suspenseful music filled the arena as a puff of smoke caught everyone's attention, and from it emerged the third acrobat standing gracefully still on the tightrope above. Your eyes widened considerably. The male literally appeared out of thin air. San's head suddenly snapped to peer at you, and before you had the chance to blink, you were suddenly engulfed in another plume of smoke, before finding yourself in the arms of the blonde acrobat meters above the ground. 

Your frame tensed considerably, arms hastily wrapping around the male's neck with a loud cry of fear. You didn't dare look down, your eyes scrunching shut in fear. Laughing at your frightened expression, he clicked his tongue in dismay, arms reaching to unwrap your limbs from his frame before tipping you down the tightrope, "Don't give me that look. You're in good hands."

Before your frame succumbed to gravity, you felt your heart drop almost immediately. A silent scream caught into your throat as you plummeted down to the safety net. Just before you reached it, two hands shot out and grabbed at your frame, gripping your frightened form with so much precision and care. You were met with the sight of the tallest of the three acrobats swinging onto the trapeze with the back of knees. Your trembling pupils took in the sight of his lips quirking up mischievously as he suddenly threw your frame like a rag doll towards the raven haired man, who in return held you in his arms whilst standing as still as a statue on the swinging trapeze bar. Within the entirety of it, your eyes had remained squeezed shut tightly.

"Don't be afraid, sweetheart," he cooed mockingly, lips outstretched into a coy smile, "Wooyoung's got ya."

The fast paced performance left no room or time for anyone to observe exactly how it was done, and even the most rational spectator experienced a moment of doubt when watching the act.

With a wave of the magician's hands, four more bangs and puffs of smoke followed suit, and the three acrobats found themselves standing in front of San, their hands intertwined as they bowed gracefully to the cheering crowd. You jolted upon realizing you were held in the magician's awaiting arms, your frame scrambling to stand. San placed a hand onto the small of your back, urging you to bow along with him towards the cheering crowd. 

"You never did say the words, hm? I knew you could do it." Regardless of the many eyes watching you attentively, he turns to you, hand cupping the side of your face whilst thumbing the apple of your cheek with a small smile, "Stay after the show. We have a lot to talk about."

You can only nod faintly, head light from the adrenaline coursing through your veins. A man came to escort you back to your seat, and your turned back to glance at San's retreating figure. You hasten your pace as a wolf-whistle and degrading comment thrown your way reached your ears, and you gave the spectator a quick glare before making yourself to your seat. 

A few minutes tick by, and you notice your vision grows a tad bit blurry. The blue haired ringmaster enters the center once more, large grin plastered onto his face. He tips his head in gratitude at the cheering audience, before raising the mic to his face, "Ladies and gentlemen, on behalf of Circus Wonderland, we want to thank you all for your splendid patronage and love you've given us tonight. We hope we've scared the life out of you."

You noticed his eyes flash in your direction momentarily, but you dismiss the thought.

"Unforeseen circumstances beyond my control have taken place tonight. Unfortunately, we will not be able to give you another night of performances."

His words seemed to blend together, and you furrowed your brows, shaking your head in an attempt to clear your head. Just what did that magician really have in that concoction to make you this dazed?

A sudden wicked smile taking over his features made your heart stop for a second. The ringmaster's dark orbs illuminated a bright red as he chuckled at the confused spectators, "You will all go back home and forget the events of today," a gloved hand reached up to point a finger at you and ruby eyes trained on your confused expression, "except you."

You watched in bewilderment as the crowd quietly made themselves down the platform and out of the tent. The spectators all shared the same empty, mindless gaze as they trudged robotically back home. Blue wisps of light swayed around their bodies like halos and stretched into the ringmaster's waiting palm, and the overhead lights began flickering repeatedly.

"Inform the others that I want everything loaded into the train this instant," the man snapped to an assistant to his right, "Leave no sign we were here, or I will personally tie you to the train tracks."

 Voices from the back sounded out, and you noticed the abandoned tickets on the floor burned, the ashes dancing  into the air as nothing more than dust. Your head snapped back to give the ringmaster a wary look, body instinctively jolting up to blend in with the crowd. A sudden wave of dizziness hit you like a tidal wave, and your knees wobbled whilst you attempted to regain your footing. 

"Where do you think you're going?" an amused chuckle rang from the blue haired male as he suddenly vanished from the center arena and beside you. Before you had the chance to jump from his prying hands, he leaned in close, eyes glowing like rubies in sunlight, "It's a shame we can't have your life-source like everyone else here. After all, you've cost us a whole 'nother night of regaining our energy from you humans."

Fear yelled at you to escape, hide, run away; hell, to even fight back, but your drugged state made it impossible for your body to cooperate properly. You didn't want anything to do with your soulmate anymore. You made a pathetic attempt to crawl away, only to have the ringmaster grip you by the back of your coat. You clawed at his arm harshly, desperately wanting to escape his claws.

"Shouldn't you be in the back making sure everyone's packing," a familiar voice called from thin air. The blue-haired male's annoyed face vanished as a puff of smoke enshrouded your figure. You found yourself on the dirt ground behind the curtains of the arena, stomach flipping at the shift in gravity.

Peering up dazedly, you give the magician a confused glance, your figure stumbling to stand up to walk away. The sound of a few thuds caught your attention, and your breath suddenly came to a halt upon noticing the very same man from the crowd tied onto the wooden frame the knife thrower previously used. A thick ribbon gagged his mouth, and his wild, tear-filled eyes shot at you desperately for help when another knife was flung carelessly above his head, lodging into the wood. Splinters flew out upon impact, and the man quivered in fright, tears streaming down his face. The harsh winds of autumn nipped at your face, and you shrunk into yourself to find some warmth. Your surroundings spun and you began seeing double.

"Ah, Y/n. Nice of you to join us back here," San drawled simply, ignoring the rushing uniformists and other artists in the back, "Care to help me gut this man like the animal he is?"

This man was a monster.

The set of gleaming knives floated dangerously above his head, their sharp tips pointing into the direction of the constricted male. You shook your head as quickly as you could, instantly regretting it as you felt the onslaught of a mind-splitting headache. You desperately attempted to form words, wanting to ask what was going on, what he was, and to let the traumatized man go, but everything felt too heavy, and you couldn't properly think or hold your weight upright. No, you didn't care about any of that. You only wanted to flee from this nightmare.

"No worries, sweetheart," his sweet voice chimed like bells, juxtaposed by the ravenous, menacing look in his dark eyes, "I wouldn't want to soil you with this filth's blood anyway."

You turn your head away, a voice in your mind telling you the next scenes will plague your thoughts far beyond many sleepless nights.

To San, there was something so oddly satisfying about seeing the man's limbs outstretched and cuffed, awaiting the knives threatening to rip him into shreds. With a shrug of his shoulders and a flick of his finger, the knives surged forward, lodging into the man's chest and joints. He cried out in anguish, veins on his neck prominent as he struggled in his confines, desperate to flee the monster in front of him, "Oh, don't worry. You'll have the privilege of forgetting this night like the others," his brows shot up as a condescending smile crossed his features, "and you're also going to forget how it feels to speak as well."

Without an ounce of hesitation or empathy, San ripped the scarf from the man's mouth, and watched in amusement as one of the floating knives reached down harshly to rip past the seam of the man's lips, only to carve out his tongue. The muscle dangled limply by a thread of tissue, and San drank in the sounds of the man's clear cries of agony, his frame convulsing in pain.

"Mm, I guess our bloodsuckers can clean this mess up," he hummed lowly to himself, eyes watching as streams of blood dripped down the man's chin, patches of blood blooming on his other wounds as well, "Jongho! Seonghwa, he's all yours now. I think I might've killed him."

He peered down at your slumped figure onto the floor, chuckling to himself at your blown pupils and unfocused, dazed look overtaking your features, "Go to sleep now, y/n. It's going to be a long ride."

His mouth moved to form more words, but it was as if the audio somehow became distorted and disconnected from reality. A dark mist fogged your vision, the glowing red of his eyes and satisfied smile blurring and melting with all of the other colors around you, and you felt as light as a feather. You were aware of the sensation of falling. 

You were falling.

And then, nothing.

You awoke in a progression of steps that seemed to take an onslaught of hours. It felt like you had awoken from a drunken stupor. Your arms and legs felt much heavier than usual, and you had no energy to lift your head up, as if your neck could hardly sustain the weight. Disoriented thoughts filled your mind to the brim. A strange taste lingered at the back of your throat, and your mind drew blank as you attempted to process the events of last night. Was it last night? You had trouble recalling the sense of time.

As the thick fog of sleep slowly seeped away, you realize there's an odd, cold sensation around your wrists, and upon shifting them slightly, you realize they're bound with metal. A feeling of dread and fear overtook your expression. Despite the racing thoughts plaguing your mind, your body just felt too heavy and disconnected from your mind. 

Lolling your head to the side, you make out a small bedroom and a few windows. Trees and greenery rushed past the windows, the moon shining brightly in the night sky. You listen to the sound of a train moving steadily on railway tracks. Slowly, you come to the realization the events you thought were a dream were indeed reality, and this must've been one of the sleeping cars of the steam train.

Panic struck you like lightning, and you struggled to rip your confined wrists from the metallic headboard. The clanging of metal caught the other person's attention, and a chill travelled down your spine at sound of footsteps, before catching the sight of the magician looming over your frame with a smile playing on his lips.

The moonlight casts a silver glow around his dark silhouette, and his ruby eyes darkened with a predatory gleam as you gave him a wary and confused look, body stiffening in fear. You attempted to scoot away when the mattress dipped as the man settled beside you, hand reaching forward to cup your face. From your peripheral vision, you can see the crimson thread tying the two of you together. Your head snapped away from his touch with a soft whimper of fear, making him chuckle to himself.

"Where are you taking me?" you slurred, thrashing when he made another attempt to touch you. Unshed tears pooled like diamonds in your eyes, and among the melting colors of your vision, you still could clearly make out the glowing red of his orbs. You wanted to ask a million more questions, but your tongue felt too heavy and mind too slow.

"Wherever I'm going, my dear. You're mine whether you like it or not. You're going to spend the rest of your life with me, whether you want to or not, " his eyes glinted red as he leaned in to nuzzle the junction of your jaw, hand gripping a fistful of your hair to keep you in place as his lips pressed tender kisses against the column of your neck, "Welcome to Circus Wonderland."

[robinrunsfiction]

It’s A Love Story - Part 5

Part 4

“Is everyone ready to go?” Gerard called to his bandmates as he closed the back of the van. It was the afternoon of the battle of the bands, and a nervous excitement was running through all of them.

“Let’s go!” Frank cheered as everyone started piling into the vehicle, but (YN) lingered back.

“Oh nooo, we have to sit together,” she smirked as Bob and Mikey got into the furthest back row of seats. Ray already riding shotgun, even though he was next to useless with a map.

“Damn,” he replied with a smile as they got into the middle row.

The van was an early Christmas/birthday/graduation present for Gerard from their grandparents. Even though they weren’t going to be at the battle of the bands, they fully supported their grandsons’ dreams, and after a few emphatic dinner table discussions, they agreed to buy the band something to get around in, on the condition that all of the boys get their high school diplomas.

“Do you know where we’re goin?” Bob shouted from the back after they’d been driving what felt like forever.

“We passed that sign like three times now,” Frank chimed in.

“Yea, we just gotta go north and then… wait, no! This is the exit! Take this exit!” Ray shouted as Gerard swerved to catch the exit ramp at the last possible second. Shouts and grumbles of annoyance came from all passengers as they held on for dear life.

“Oh shut up,” Gerard said, glancing back.

“Gee! Brake!” Ray shouted, pulling Gerard’s attention back to the traffic they were about to crash into.

Gerard slammed on the brakes just before he slammed into the station wagon ahead of them and Frank threw his arm out protectively in front of (YN). As Gerard sat rattled in the driver’s seat, Ray glanced back to check on the bandmates. That’s when (YN) realized that his eyes were transfixed on where Frank’s hand had ended up on her knee. She froze, not knowing what to do.

“Everybody good?” Ray asked, still seeming to be focused on the other guitarist.

“You guys good?” (YN) asked turning to Mikey and Bob behind them, in hopes it would pull Ray’s attention away from what Frank was doing. That’s when she caught Frank’s eye. She glanced down at his hand before nodding slightly toward Ray. Frank’s eyes went wide as he snatched his hand away.

“Close one,” (YN) whispered to Frank when they were back on their way.

“Sorry,” he winced.

“It’s fine,” she smiled.

When they finally arrived at the venue hosting the competition, they were given a schedule of when they’d go on, as well as a table where they could sell merch, meet the other bands, as well as any potential fans. (YN) set up the box of CDs that had been recorded in the garage, and arranged the shirts that she’d designed and felt her nerves starting to build. She hoped the competition would go well for the guys, which would drive people to look at the merch. If her shirts were liked well enough that fans would buy them, it would prove to the guys that she could be a help to My Chem and she could remain involved.

The guys were one of the first bands to perform that evening, and to say they crushed it would be an understatement. The crowd was in a frenzy, and as soon as they were done a ton of the spectators came over and bought merch. That’s when (YN) noticed the girls lingering off to the side, watching the guys talk to their new fans. Once the crowd dissipated, they swooped in.

“Hey,” the first girl purred, grinning at Gerard. “My name’s Veronica, and I just wanted to say you guys were really amazing up there.”

(YN) tried to keep from obviously rolling her eyes as the girls blatantly flirted with her brothers and friends. However, she was pulled from her thoughts when she heard one of the other girls ask if they’d ever consider dating a fan of the band.

Frank smirked and shot (YN) a glance. "Only if she'd been a fan from like day one, ya know? Like very clearly not just into me because of the band."

"Oh," the girl pouted.

"I mean, I'd be cool dating a fan!" Ray chimed in.

That's when an idea popped into (YN)'s head. "Hey Gee," she said, getting her brother's attention and pulling him away from the group.

"What’s up?" 

(YN) had to do her best not to start laughing at her evil idea. “I don’t think you should be talking to these girls.”

“Wait, why not?” He asked, clearly confused.

“I see the way they’re looking at you and I can imagine what they’re thinking and it’s gross. They’re just interested because they wanna get with a band member, they aren’t actually interested in you as a person, and I’d really hate for you to get a reputation in the scene,” she smirked.

Gerard opened and closed his mouth a few times, speechless. “Not fair!” He finally blurted out.

“I'm just looking out for you,” she grinned evilly before he rolled his eyes and marched off.

After the remaining bands played, the judges deliberated, and the MC eventually returned to the stage to announce the winners. The crowd didn't go as crazy for any band as they did for My Chem, so (YN) had a good feeling, but she was nervous anyway. The third, and then second place winners were announced and then MC called for a drumroll before announcing the winner.

"And in first place," the MC paused for dramatic effect and (YN) thought her heart was gonna pound out of her chest. "My Chemical Romance!"

(YN) screamed with delight as everyone started to hug each other in celebration. Frank turned to her and she wanted to grab him and kiss him, but she could only smile before they ran up on stage. The MC handed them a trophy as the other bands came up to congratulate them.

A few more people came up to buy what was left of their makeshift merch, and (YN) imagined what kind of real merch they’d be able to make with the prize money. When everything was gone, she picked up the empty boxes and followed the venue’s instructions on where to dump them out back. A few people were lingering around the back of the venue, smoking, talking, or loading up vans, but she didn't recognize anyone until Frank stepped out the backdoor. Letting out a squeal of delight, she ran over to him, unable to hold back any longer.

"Oh my god that was amazing!" She said, throwing her arms around his neck as he lifted her up in a hug. "I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks babe!" He grinned as he returned her to her feet and kissed her hard, the adrenaline of the show, and winning still coursing through him. (YN) leaned into the kiss without a second thought.

"What the fuck?!" The shout cut through the cold late autumn night.

(YN) and Frank immediately jumped apart, as Gerard stalked toward them from where he’d been loading the van, with Mikey close behind. The other people who had been lingering around all turned to watch the unfolding scene.

"Frank, I thought of all the guys in school I could trust not to go after my sister, it would be you!" Gerard snapped, his finger in Frank’s face.

(YN) felt her blood start to boil. "Gerard! Stop it!” She snapped, pushing his hand away from Frank and stepping in between them. "God, this is so stupid! I love Frank! We're together and he has been nothing but sweet and kind and respectful and if I wanna keep dating him, then I’m gonna! Besides, you know Frank, you know he’s a good guy who isn’t gonna take advantage of me, or spread rumors, or anything else you’re scared of happening. Like who else could you possibly want me to date?”

Both Mikey and Gerard seemed to soften at her words, as silence hung between them. “You’re right,” Mikey finally conceded with a shrug before turning to Frank. “I’ve known you forever, and trust you to be good to (YN).”

“Thanks man,” Frank replied, relief evident in his tone.

"You love him?" Gerard asked, still hesitant.

"Yep," she nodded, still defiant.

"And you really love (YN)?" Gerard asked Frank.

"More than you can imagine."

Gerard nodded, considering his words. “Fine. But if she tells us you ever do anything to upset or hurt her,” Gerard started, his finger back in Frank’s face.

“You’ll kick my ass, I know,” Frank nodded, his hands up in defense.

“No, I’ll help (YN) kick your ass,” Gerard smirked. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Mikey and Gerard made their way back toward the van, but (YN) and Frank lingered behind.

(YN) turned and grinned at Frank before burying her face against his neck. “Oh my god! It happened, it finally happened! Life just got so much easier,” she laughed. "I don't think I've ever felt so relieved!"

"I’m just so happy that I can tell everyone how much I love you,” he grinned when she pulled back.

Just then Ray came out the back door that they were standing next to, guitar case in hand. The look on his face when he saw Frank’s hands on (YN) waist made (YN) immediately start giggling. 

“Wha- what the hell is this?!” He asked, clearly confused.

“Remember that girlfriend that Tucker ratted me out for having a couple months ago?” Frank asked.

“Yea?”

“Hi,” (YN) grinned as she waved at him.

“But Gerard said-”

“Doesn’t matter,” (YN) cut him off.

“No stupid rules could keep me from being in love with (YN),” Frank said, almost more to (YN) than to Ray, as he pulled her closer. 

She grinned at him, before leaning in and kissing him hard. She could have sworn she heard Ray muttering about being the last to know everything, but she didn’t care. Everything had finally turned around for her, and she didn’t have to hide her love for Frank ever again.

[nutterwithasolderingiron]

so. let’s talk about tramp stamps seriously.

this has been a topic on my mind since my friend first sent me one of their tiktok videos saying “lol, look at this cringe” and indeed, it was cringe. next i started seeing more and more videos about how bad they were and how much astroturfing they were doing on social media to get attention. when this level of astroturfing goes on, it’s most people’s first response to look into things deeper. and there we found problematic tweets, cringe lyrics, cousin loving cousin, dr. luke and much much more. during this time, i seen a few people saying “oh, you only hate these guys because your a sexist fuckhead” even when women and queer folk were criticizing them.  then they came to tumblr..... and left tumblr 5 hours later. then the stans started doing what they do best. seeing how some of the stans have responded to the release of the new record, this is going to be me “mansplaining” or whatever. this is me explaining what i see the 2 major problems people have with tramp stamps.  the woke aspect the most common complaint i seen with the tramp stamps was their politics and almost co-opting left wing talking points without any understanding or nuance on the situation at best. this is why people dislike the whole “girlboss” thing. not because they are sexist, but because it’s often invoked in “fuck everyone, i can do this because i’m a badass bitch” which is really just the middle class millenial version of a karen. at worst, some of their lyrics are problematic. need i bring up the lyric about her drunk boyfriend not getting it up? if you don’t know what’s problematic about that, think of her intent in the situation, now picture the genders reversed? yeah. 

the “authenticity” aspect. 

this is the one i feel more inclined to talk about. i’ve been a part of the punk/post-hardcore/emo scene since i was in my teens. i’ve played in a lot of local bands, ran shows, social media accounts, street teams, repaired guitars, pulled sound for 15+ years. now, in these scenes, there can be some gatekeeping BUT usually that attitude gets called out. i’ve had afab bandmates get heckled like crazy and in those situations, we’d pull a kathleen hanna and escort the fuckers out the venue. so what i say when i bring up this next part is not “gatekeeping” it’s just how the scene works and has always worked. 

these scenes foster a community based on authenticity and the attitude of having to grind to get results. most the all time great bands in the rock/punk/metal/hardcore/emo/post-hardcore had to grind but also come across as authentic, you gotta network, you gotta send out hundreds of demo’s. spend thousands on recording, touring, merch, promotion. you know what a 20 year old ford transit with 6 people in the back, all of which have not showered in 2 weeks? i do. most bands know it’s all about luck and connections and grinding, but they still do it. 99% of your favorite rock bands had to do it.  my chemical romance? yup, i remember them on their first uk tour.  green day? part of the gillman punk scene. fallout boy? pete wentz was in the vegan straight edge scene. 

what people are objecting to is the tramp stamps using their connections before they’ve even really played a gig or tried immersing themselves in the scene and tried making connections. the felt fake from the very beginning. “oh but marissa did grind at her publishing job” maybe, i dunno what her job really was. but the point is, it felt very fake, it felt like there was astroturfing. it didn’t feel like 3 girls who wanted to make this music they wanted, it felt like marketing folk at her publishing job said “hmmmmm, the whole e-girl/tiktok/pop-punk revival is going well, how do we jump on this band wagon?” and people seen it for what it was. 

so, tramp stanz or whatever your fanbase is called. before you call me a sexist asshole, i’m going to give you some homework. i’m going to list a few great bands with a strong female creative voice (even if they’re not the singer), my tastes tend to lean a bit weirder so i’m sorry in advance. listen to these, not all of them are all female bands since i often feel separating female/afab musicians from male/amab doesn’t create a good scene.  patti smith (often considered to be the godmother of punk) bikini kill (remember when tramp stamps would hashtag riotgrrl everything? bikini kill were the band that coined the term)  bratmobile (same vein as bikini kill)  jack off jill/scarling (if there’s such a thing as a musician i’d simp for, it would be jessicka addams)  babes in toyland (some super noisy girl grunge) l7 (heavy alt-rock/grunge with some super catchy hooks)  slant 6 (what kind of monster are you is a fucking freight train of a song) hole (as much as we make fun of courtney love’s shit stirring, she could write some of the best choruses ever)  unwound (my favorite band and their drummer sara is the fucking heart of the band)  rolo tomassi (eva spence’s voice will blow your socks clean off) distillers (brody dalle is a fucking queen and you can’t convince me otherwise) against me (transgender dysphoria blues is an album that makes me tear up everytime i hear it but in a good way)

[wallwriterstuff]

Dear Sister Part 1 ||Alec Volturi x Female Reader||

A request from @tiger-khans-blog

Part 2 can be found here

Request: Hey there I am really amused by your style of writing stories.Can I ask you another request for Alec Volturi? The thing is Demetri's younger younger Sister the reader fled from her family.As they had the tradition to get the girls married in a early age.And the reader is a Creator gifted Vampire.The Volturi gets to her.She is asked to join them.She recognizes Demetri immediately.She goes and hugs him.Demetri recognizes her.And she finds out that Alec and her mate bond.That's why she decides to torment Alec.So that he doesn't want her.But everything goes opposite.Alec falls for her head to heels.Then her Casanova image gets revealed that she is no less than her brother. Alec tries to convince her to give him a chance.Then Alec tries all the ways to make her fall in love with him too. Then she lastly agrees.Demetri gets against of this relationship.Then he tries to make them separated.But he becomes unsuccessful. As Jane is his mate.

Jane and Alec are aged up in this fic to 18.

Words: 4593 Warnings: Some swearing, sexual references, angst 

The report had come from a nomad they had spared in South Africa once and Aro had immediately been intrigued. Alec couldn’t deny he was curious (for he was always curious about a great many things and Aro had given him the time to explore them all to his heart’s desire) and he had found himself in quiet contemplation ever since their mission had been revealed. He had never heard of or read about a gift quite like hers, nothing in history had even come close to it.

“You are quieter than usual brother.” Jane broke the silence between them as she artfully finished dragging the pen across her eyelid, surrounding crimson red orbs with black ink. Alec glanced back at her from his place on the windowsill. In truth he had been ready before his sister even set foot in his room, and he knew full well she had only come because she wanted to know what was going on inside his head. She didn’t share his curiosity about the world but she was always intrigued by his inner-most thoughts.

“There are few people in the world who we haven’t been able to take on, but I wonder if this one might be too much.” He confessed finally, his brows furrowing. Jane sniffed, colouring in the sharp flick at the edge of her eye.

“Too much for us? You forget our reputation brother.” She blinked a few times, turning her head side to side before flashing her reflection a wan smile. The little liquid pen clattered into the silver case she kept her makeup in and she reached for a scrunchie next to tie her hair back with.

“I’m well aware of our reputation, I helped create it after all, but we’ve never faced anyone like her.” he persisted, his frown deepening. The nomad was a skittish little bugger and hadn’t really spent all that long talking, too busy stuttering over his sentences with his eager to please attitude, so only Aro had seen through his eyes to experience what he had seen. He had been excited by the nomad’s thoughts, almost jumping up and down with pure joy and wonder. A creator of things is how he had described her, and Alec had been left plagued with questions ever since. Creator of things? What sorts of things? Did she craft elements? Weather? Actual objects? What about people? Could she create people? What were the limits of such a gift? More importantly, who was she?

Gifts were based on human traits, ones felt so strongly that to amplify them was to make them physical. For her gift to be so unique, so powerful…

“Alec!” Jane drew his attention away from the landscape beyond his window once more. Her expression was stony.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He warned.

“Get your head in the game then.” Jane said firmly. Alec hadn’t even noticed Demetri enter his room but he spotted the tracker’s raised eyebrows now. He refused to say anything, feeling the familiar bitterness sink into his chest as Jane turned to Demetri, letting him wrap her cloak around her shoulders with a flourish. He fastened it with a smile, staring down at her adoringly before his lips met her forehead, then the tip of her nose, and finally –

“If you’re done defiling my sister in front of me.” Alec scowled. He still wasn’t used to their relationship. It had to have been the slowest burn romance in history. Jane had hated Demetri and Demetri had shown no interest in her, and then suddenly they were all over each other and the pair needed one another like fire needed oxygen. Alec wasn’t sure where it had come from, but he knew he sure as hell didn’t like it.

“I have not even gotten to the defiling part, but if you would like to witness what it really means to defile someone I suggest turning off your laptop and coming to our room later.” Demetri grinned. Alec’s growl was deadly, but Jane had already shot her mate a warning look that made his smile turn sheepish. Alec didn’t give him a chance to apologize.

“Let’s just go. You’re still useful to me right now, keep it that way.” The unspoken threat lingered between them as Demetri curled his fingers around Jane’s, head bobbing in a nod and his smile vanishing as he reached for the catalogue of tenors in his repertoire, searching for the right one to grasp and follow.

“Play nicely you pair, I will not be mediating again, do I make myself clear?” Jane scolded. Alec felt the disadvantage he was at, it was visible by the way she had twisted her fingers through Demetri’s, stuck to his side like a barnacle to the underside of a ship. He tried not to sneer when he agreed but the pout on his face said it all.

“I have her, let’s grab Felix and go.” Demetri said, his voice somewhat robotic with the intensity of his focus. Alec’s eyes lingered on the way his fingers briefly squeezed Jane’s before their palms split, hands dropping back to their respective sides. It had taken a long time for Alec to admit the bitterness he felt stemmed less from the fact it was Demetri that his sister had ended up mated to, and more because if he was brutally honest, Alec was actually a little envious Jane had found someone other than him. He remained quiet though, and had resolved that Jane would never find out about that; nobody with eyes would ever deny the twins loved one another deeply, but the kind of love and intimacy a mate provided was far different from the sort of familial love they shared.

That was a gap Jane could not full.

On edge as he was Alec remained utterly silent as he ran behind the couple, his expression set in a deep frown and ears ignorant to Felix’s usual round of teasing. Jane didn’t try to engage him in conversation either, recognising his silence as a desire to remain locked in his head for a little while – when it became unhealthy she’d intervene but for now she left him with his thoughts. He almost slammed into her when Demetri suddenly came to a halt, head twisting North-West.

“What the hell?” he demanded, hands on Jane’s shoulders as both a sign of apology and to keep his momentum from ploughing her down. Demetri looked befuddled, squinting at the horizon.

“The tenor I was following just…changed location.” He answered.

“Changed location? Are you sure you’re not losing your edge?” Felix chuckled. Demetri was usually the one that would jump on the band wagon when a round of teasing began, but the quickest way to frustrate him was to question his abilities. When he rounded on his best friend Felix immediately held both hands up with his usual shit-eating grin.

“Demetri. Talk to us.” Jane requested calmly. Her hand on his shoulder made the muscles unfurl, and though he remained tense he wasn’t ready to spring anymore.

“I do not honestly know what to tell you,” he admitted, “I was following the tenor, I held it as firmly as you hold my arm now and it just…dropped. It completely disappeared for the briefest moment, and when it returned it was in the complete opposite direction.” He looked incredibly troubled by the whole affair and Jane rubbed his shoulder soothingly.

“Then we follow it in the new direction. You are the best we have Demetri, we trust you to be right.” She assured him. Alec’s nose wrinkled, his brain immediately throwing up more questions than he could answer. It wasn’t like Demetri to just lose a tenor, his gift was far too potent for that and once he had grasped the tenor he wanted to follow, he held onto it with the tenacity of a bulldog to a fresh cut steak. What could move so quickly it would confuse even Demetri? There was no way it was physically possibly to move that fast, not to switch directions so drastically and change locations so smoothly. So how had she managed to move so fast? Was it possible –

“No!” Demetri snarled, his leg extended to take a step before his head snapped in the opposite direction once more.

“It moved again?” Felix asked, surprised now and far more alert than he had been previously. Alec’s upper lip curled, his shoulders bunching with tension and distress. He didn’t like this. It felt like he was being circled, something sinister closing in.

“How!” Demetri snapped. Felix had unclasped his hands, his eyes flitting about as if he anticipated a fight. A branch snapped from behind him  and Alec whirled with a growl, only to watch an innocent little deer startle and skitter away.

“How do we find her if you can’t track her?” Felix wondered aloud.

“I don’t know.” Demetri ground out. His teeth were clenched, jaw working as he fought to keep a hold of the tenor and pinpoint it once more. Alec didn’t imagine it would happen anytime soon. Someone who could move that fast was never going to be found unless they wanted to be, and given how she was hopping about right as they started to track her Alec guessed that the point was she really didn’t want to be found right now.

“Demetrius!” the sudden shout was accompanied by a gust of wind that ruffled Alec’s cloak. He whirled quickly on the balls of his feet, slipping into a half crouch with a stony expression. His nostrils flared, a shockwave rippling down his spine. She was beautiful. There was a shimmer of gold in that chestnut brown hair, the curls perfect and hanging just so just below her shoulders. Her face was defined by high cheekbones living in the shadow of thick, full lashes. Her lips were equally as plump and an errant thought about how they might taste passed through his mind unbidden.

Focus!

“Pain.” Jane hissed. Three things happened simultaneously then. One, Alec’s stomach dropped without explanation or cause. Second, the girl raised her eyebrows in disbelief, her expression a tad sarcastic as those perfectly plump lips pushed out in a pout. Third, Jane’s furious face melted into a look of tortured agony before she crumpled to the ground knees first. His head snapped back and forth between the girl and his sister, complete shock setting in. It was like she had somehow absorbed Jane’s power and reflected it back at her, the delay was too long for it to be a basic mirror gift so how had she done that?

“Enough!” Demetri snarled, lunging for her. Alec could feel the fury rolling off of him in waves and he couldn’t reach him in time to hold him back. In truth he doubted he could,  the unparalleled rage that was felt by those whose mates were endangered wasn’t something to stand in the way of, nor was it something easy to abate.

Demetri ran straight through her and crashed to the floor the other side.

“Felix don’t!” Alec barked, his eyes calculating as the ear-shattering sound of Jane’s screams died away. The forest clearing was left eerily quiet, only the low rumbling of Demetri’s growling reverberated through the air now. She sighed, a soft exhale of air that seemed to deflate her entire form as she turned to look at him.

“Really Demetrius? I had hoped you would recognise me.” She confessed, her voice somewhat apathetic despite the way her brows had furrowed that betrayed how deeply conflicted the knowledge made her feel. Her voice was musical to his ears, enough to daze him slightly and Alec desperately fought through the sudden, confusing, onslaught of emotion. Demetri had faltered now, his full name had been agitating enough but the implication he should know her was just downright unsettling to them all. There weren’t many left alive who knew them from their earliest days, and the fact Demetri seemed to struggle to know her was only more proof to Alec that this girl was not only dangerously powerful. but old enough to know how to use that power in the most effective way.

Demetri edged his way around the new threat while Felix quietly circled from behind. Alec shook his head at the giant, knowing deep down it would do no good. The girl would have to be adequately distracted if they were going to take her down. Jane was on her feet again and Demetri quickly pushed her behind his own body once he was close enough, his eyes narrowed.

“You might wear her face, but I cannot believe you are her.” he hissed. Alec had never seen Demetri look like he did right then. The tracker was confident, suave, charming even if the sheer number of partners he’d managed to tempt his way before he’d settled with Jane was anything to go by. Alec had seen him furious, elated, even upset once or twice, but he’d never seen him tortured, not like this. Demetri was watching her like he’d seen a ghost, like he wasn’t sure if she might attack him or if she’d disintegrate – and he didn’t know which would be worse.

“You were never the one lacking faith when we were small,” She remarked dryly. Vibrantly crimson red eyes flashed with indignation, a full pink lip curled back in a smirk that was more of a sneer. Alec wanted to look at Demetri, see his reaction, but he couldn’t take his eyes off of her twisted expression. Her pain was almost tangible, like he had internalised it to. He didn’t like that expression on her face at all and he didn’t really understand why before the wind changed direction. Mint. Fresh mint and sunshine on warm sand. His eyes widened slightly. They were his favourite scents, two of his favourite scents blended and combined into one perfect smell that was caught in his nose and ensnared every fibre of his being. Only one person in the world was meant to smell that way to him. He had heard Jane and Chelsea and so many others tell him as much.

“Y/N.” Demetri breathed. Alec could only watch, warring with himself as Demetri moved to embrace her, the shock he felt evident on his face. Jane was quietly seething beside him, watching her mate embrace another woman, but Alec finally felt the last puzzle piece slip into place when Demetri turned with her tucked under his arm. The shine to chestnut brown hair, the high cheekbones, the full, dark lashes, the very structure of their faces…it was all too similar to be a coincidence.

“You’re related.” He said. Demetri nodded, looking overwhelmed with emotion as he stared down at the girl tucked beneath his arm.

“I thought her dead, I tracked you to a dock and could go no further. You were just gone.” He said. She scoffed slightly.

“Would you have had me stay? Marry that disgusting oaf thrice my age? He was said to have beaten all the whores in the brothel,” She turned her gaze to the floor, “No matter how much I love you brother you were not making the right choice for me. I had to look after myself.” Demetri looked pained by her admission while Alec’s mind reeled.

“So the only feasible thing to do was run away? You didn’t even try to talk to me or mother!” Demetri argued.

“For what purpose! My job was to be worthy of the dowry paid for me and mother made it abundantly clear I could not even do that right given her choice of suitor for me!”

“Mother loved you! I loved you! I still do! I have grieved your loss every day of this life.”

Alec’s brain had finally switched off by then. Only Jane seemed to notice his obvious distraction but there was little time to comment on it between meeting her mate’s sister and having to convince her not to run from them anymore. Through the daze he was in Alec understood that if she ran now, disappeared as suddenly as she had appeared, then she would be missing from both of their lives forever.

“Stay. You have to stay.” He blurted. Multiple heads snapped his way, furrowed brows and confused expressions surrounding him. Her face twisted into an amused expression.

“Oh do I, pretty boy?” she questioned. Alec ignored the way his stomach fluttered at the strange pet name, swallowing hard as he tried to organise his scrambled thoughts. How was he supposed to explain the complexity of what he was thinking, what he was feeling, when he barely knew himself?

“You do.” Alec pushed, his voice firm. His words were falling from his mouth before he even consciously thought of them. Her amused expression never faltered as he fought to regain some control of himself. The embarrassment of being caught unawares had him scowling, chest puffing as a desperate need to defend his authority broke free of the maelstrom he was feeling.

“I don’t think-“

“It’s pointless you thinking at all. If we return without you there will be no corner of this Earth you may settle in. Demetri will be forced to hunt you for the rest of your immortal life, so, to make it easier on both of you, you’re best coming with us now.” Alec kept his voice firm even though he felt the flutter of nerves in his gut. What if she said no? He’d never know his mate if she left now, and Y/N was so worth getting to know. It had been so many centuries since Jane was as happy and calm as she was, and the very same thing was at his fingertips, just an arms-length away, waiting for him to reach out and grab it.

“And you think he would find me?” she asked. The question hung in the air, the growing tension palpable almost. Once her eyes locked with his he couldn’t look away, time became non-existant and his companions faded in favour of leaving a single face, just one, that his whole world centred around. He pushed back, desperate to stop whatever was trying to pull him towards her so he could gain some clarity. The more distance, the easier it was to think. Alec didn’t blink, he had no need to, so he saw every little moment as she disappeared in a wisp of red smoke and reappeared just as fast in front of him. He was immediately overpowered by her scent, by her voice, by everything she was and everything they had the potential to be.

“Please.” He said, quieter this time. He really wasn’t sure he’d survive if she left. Y/N’s head tilted, her smirk dropping the slightest bit for a fraction of a second as she leaned closer to him. Just like that, it returned, and her lips were diverted from their heart stopping path towards his mouth towards his cheek instead.

“Since you asked so nicely, take me back to your house pretty boy.”

Alec did.

Y/N was immediately given a black cloak, a cloak she at first refused before Demetri took her aside and they had a long discussion that had ended with her walking back in to accept her place amongst them. Alec had watched her from afar ever since. Inevitably Demetri had reconnected with his sister, and he watched as the man teased her mercilessly in between reminiscing about their shared history. He watched her craft gifts he’d never even considered in his long history of living and was left awed each time he saw one. She moved fluidly and with grace, quickly picking up the fighting techniques Felix taught her and decimating their enemies like a one-woman army. He fell in love with every little thing about her from afar. He adored the way she had a comeback for every occasion and the little smirk she quirked upward just for him when they passed in the corridor. He was besotted with the way her melodic voice always sang a nickname only he was given.

He had found her in the library once, curled up with an old looking book he knew wasn’t from their library – because Alec knew every book in their library cover to cover – in her hands. He’d been surprised at how mellow and calm she was that day, how she’d greeted him with a smile that was devoid of anything false, genuinely and calmly content for perhaps the first time since they’d met. There were a myriad of other little things he found out once they began to read together to, things that only made him fall in love with her a little bit more. She wrinkled her nose before a storm, always able to smell the rain in the air before anyone else ever did. She hummed in the shower, old folk songs Alec didn’t know but was quickly learning the tune to. Her every movement was like dancing because she had once trained as a way to pass the decades. Whenever she stepped into the sun, she lifted her face to its rays for just a moment to soak in their warmth.

“Earth to Alec.” Felix waved a hand in front of his face and Alec was quick to snatch it from the air. He quickly shifted his body, flipping Felix over his shoulder with a growl that voiced his displeasure. Felix laughed, loud and long with a gleam in his eye that told Alec just how much he was enjoying this. The giant pulled him down with him in the blink of an eye, rolling him beneath him and pressing his knee tight into the inner side of his thigh to keep him pinned.

“Bastard.” Alec snarled.

“If your eyes weren’t on Y/N you might have seen it coming.” He teased. Alec was fuelled by sheer embarrassment at that, lifting his free leg and kicking Felix back with such force he dented the wall opposite him.

“Keep your mouth shut!” he warned. Felix hissed, pulling himself free of crumbling bits of marble and brushing the dust from his clothes.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” he asked in amazement, “It’s clear as day you love the woman Alec so stop pining after her with your eyes and just ask Y/N out already! Take your frustration out by pounding her, not me!” Alec let loose another warning growl, but it was stopped dead by the familiar, refined tone of Demetri. His head whipped to the left, finding the tracker stood tall in the doorway. His expression was devoid of any emotion.

“Surely that’s a sick joke.” He said finally. Alec blinked, somewhat astonished at the venom behind Demetri’s voice.

“Excuse me?” he asked. Demetri scowled, lip curling back above his teeth.

“My sister is off limits.” He hissed, fists clenching at his sides. Felix very smartly moved out of their way.

“Then so is mine!” Alec snapped.

“We’re mates! You cannot fight fate!” Demetri argued, “A puppy crush is something else. Find somewhere else to place your affections, Alec.”

“Maybe fate wants me to put them right in your sister.” He sneered, tired of his attitude and feeling a righteous kind of fury burn through him. Demetri was already starting to growl at him, slowly lowering his centre as he prepared to strike. Alec didn’t give him the chance, the mist pouring from his palms as they trembled near his sides. Demetri dropped like a stone, Felix soon following when he went to stop the younger boy.

“Enough Alec!” Felix shouted.

“Yes, I have had enough! I have had enough of all of your filthy jokes hinting at the ways you repeatedly defile my sister! I have had enough of having to pretend I’m okay with watching your sickening displays of affection with my twin! I knew it from the moment I met her that Y/N was made for me, her scent is my favourite smell and nobody appreciates the little things about her the way I do. Your sister is very much my mate and if I cannot keep you from Jane, you will not be keeping Y/N from me!” he promised, voice strong and echoing off of the marble walls of the training room. It took him a second to remember just who was in it.

Y/n stared back at him with an open-mouth, completely shocked it seemed by his admission. His anger was swept away in a flurry of horror, horror that quickly faded to disappointment as Santiago stepped forward with a look of disgust on his face.

“You’ve been sharing my bed knowing Alec is your mate?” he demanded. Her head snapped back and forth between them so quickly it was at risk of snapping right off. Alec could see the panic in her eyes as another lower guard member stepped forward.

“You replaced me with Santiago? My gift almost guarantees me permanent status here, why would you downgrade?”

“Watch your mouth!” Santiago snarled. Y/N looked back at him as Alec felt his heart freeze over, a deep, raw kind of ache starting up in his chest. She’d slept with Santiago and that random guy who wasn’t even worthy of having his name remembered? Had she not felt it the day they met the way he had? No…no, they’d read together at least once a week for the past five months she’d been here! He’d seen her drop her guard the first day they had met, he was sure she had felt it, so why would she find the company of the other guard members more preferable to his?

“Just how many of the other guard members have you slept with?” Demetri demanded, looking equally as horrified. Alec was sure that was more to do with her choice of partner than anything else. A horrible numbness began to set in. Did she truly not care for him? Alec would have died for her, hell, he’d have ripped off an arm if she asked it of him, such was the depths of his devotion to her.

“Alec I-“

“Goodbye.” The single word shredded his throat like he’d pushed a ball of thorns up through it, but that pain was nothing compared to the distinct throbbing in his chest. His mate didn’t care, that much was obvious. He left the argument fading behind him, walking with tunnel vision towards his room.

His mate didn’t care. And it tore him apart.

[liliesoftherain]

I request a fluffy barbarian au where Bakugou is crushing on this thick, badass viking lady and shes like I will only marry you if you can beat me in a fight.

A/N: Anything for you bb(; I enjoyed writing this request, and just so y’all know I did some rough google translates for the words so don’t sure me if something’s wrong haha

Title: The Barbarian King

Pairing: Katsuki Bakugou x Reader

Katsuki Bakugou!:

“Another weak man, who thinks he can beat our (y/n).”

The giggling females behind him as he passed only served to fuel his anger, the raging roses blooming across his cheeks causing their giggles to increase. These women didn’t care that he was a king, that didn’t matter to them here. Here was a town counted as a free for all trading market, and in the district, mainly vikings and other Nordics took place in this residence for trading and sales. Status here didn’t matter, your value as a tradesman and the quality of your products were the only things that did.

Katsuki had walked towards your area, seeing the way your broad back moved as you helped load a wagon of goods. He glanced at your face and saw a bead of sweat drip down your neck and below your collarbone down your shirt. However his gaze traveled back up to your face as you looked up at him through your lashes from your crouched position, you gave him a smirk as you looked away from his stare.

“What is it now, your terribleness?” You spoke out in the common language, lifting a large vase into the cart before smacking your hands together to get off the dust.

You turn to the man behind you, that teasing smile still on your face as you glanced over him. He was flashy for a Barbarian King, but you assumed that was the whole point. Furs lined his cape and boots, fine leather lined his legs for his pants as well as his belt and arm bands, and while he remained shirtless, his chest was covered in battle scars and intricate tribal tattoos. He was a fine man, maybe not as built as some of the men in your home village, but he was a sight to behold for sure.

“You know why I am here, leubh.”

“Is that so, Aldrnari? And what did I say about calling me leubh, hm?” 

Bakugou clicked his tongue at the nickname of flame in your native tongue, your teases doing nothing more but rile him up enough where he felt the burning of desire dance along his skin. 

That’s why he was here after all.

“I do not like to repeat myself, leubh. You are going to accept my bindan, yes.” 

You hummed while you turned away from him, speaking in your tongue to the trader who you were making the sale with before getting your dirhems. You thanked the trader once more for his business before he walked off, and only then did you turn back to the adonis ruler, who had only starred as he awaited your response. 

“Your terribleness, I already told you I am not your love, your leubh. I have my rules-”

“Then I am willing to do what it takes, leubh. You shall be mine.” He growled out lowly, muscles twitching in anticipation to hold your toned body against his own.

Even if he had to beat you first.

You were packing your leather satchel with whatever little belongings you had brought, considering you had only come today with the items for your trade, and were preparing to endure the trek home. 

“Are you now, Aldrnari. I do not think you have what it takes to challenge me for my hand.”

Bakugou, now annoyed, snatched your wrist to make you face him as he was ignoring the constant flow of people walking by. You only stared at him in amusement, knowing you could break his wrist if you really felt threatened. 

This King wasn’t as fearful as everyone made him out to be, you could see the kitten soul underneath the lion’s exterior. You were interested in the man, surely you didn't know what lady wouldn’t be, but you had rules, morals. You had to keep true to yourself, and that was a man who could triumph in battle. You had no room for a man with a weak will. 

“I will challenge you because that is what you ask of me. I bow to no one but my kwoeniz, my queen, and that is what you shall be.”

You bite your lip to hide a smile, merely removing your wrist from his hold and placing your hand upon your waist instead. 

“You are certain of yourself, kǫttr.”

“Koh-tah?...” Bakugou blinked at you in confusion, eyebrows furrowed at the word he hadn’t heard you use before, butchering it with his dialect.

“Kǫttr. Baby cat, that is what you are.”

“Huh!? I am a kuningaz, a King. Not a kattuz. Wōd wíf.”

You laugh at his face, which was pulled into a frown, before walking down the path once more. You heard the rustling of his cloak and the clanking of his tribal birthright, the necklaces of fangs that hung from his neck as a warning, a name, an indication all at once. 

“I may be a ‘crazy woman’ as you say, but it is the truth. You are soft, sweet like a babe with the heart of a león, a fierce cat.” 

You both walked side by side as you walked down the path, enjoying the creek beside you and the whispering willows along the way. The sun would be setting shortly, giving you enough time to head home.

If it wasn’t for your stalker hot on your trail.

“I am fierce, yes. Loyal and true. It’s shall be my duty to protect you-”

You stopped suddenly, a snarl pulled at your lips as you pushed him away.

“Am I not able to protect myself, veslingr?” You hissed an insult in his face.

“That is not-”

“I may be a woman, but I am no means unable. Understand this well, Bakugou, I am not meant to be bound and be made a slave.”

He sighed, overall agitated with your stubbornness and failure to understand.

“Dúfa, you are as free as that in which I call you, Dove.”

“Gjof ser ae til gjalda.” 

“I do not understand, leubh.”

“A gift always looks for a return. You shall expect a service far lesser than what I deserve, Víkar.” You called his title in your language as you spit on the ground, a bit disrespectful but he had insulted your pride.

You would not let that go.

His glare did not waver, as neither did yours. The tension was thick, you swore there were sparks in between the both of you, bright enough to blind and hot enough to scar. 

“Let us settle this then, (y/n), we shall fight. When I win, you shall accept bindan, our binding. No going back on your word.” 

You looked up at his towering form, staring down through your nose with narrowed eyes.

“I never go back on my word, that I can say with honor. You know how I feel about honor, Aldrnari.”

“Yes, to be without silver is better than to be without honor. You have said so many times, leubh. Come now, I have not all day.” His wickedly cocky grin spread across his face as he crouched low, preparing to strike.

You only clicked your tongue back, going into your own fighting stance. The wind blew by, and your eyes narrowed in signal. You jumped up, landing powerful blows onto his large arms as he staggered back from the force. You grew annoyed however, only seeing the powerful man defending.

“You are not attacking, Bakugou! Do you think so little of me!?” 

You kicked his stomach, sending him flying back as you tried to regain control of your emotions FIghting with anger was like fighting with the intent to die, and that’s what you were trying to avoid. Hell, with how many times you have won over a man who had asked for your hand, you should just become a part of the wise Volur! A woman married to that of her magic and healing than to a man.

“I think too highly of you, that is my problem.” 

Bakugou got behind you faster than you could have anticipated, securing you from behind. You thrashed, but he held tight, leaning in close to your ear.

“(y/n), I have won. You have said that all I needed to do to win your heart was to fight you, so be it-”

“You have been running and defending, not attacking!”

“I have never once said I would attack you, my eardlufu beorht, dear light. I have respect for you as a woman, as my kwoeniz, as a fighter. I shall protect you, as I hope you shall protect me.” He maneuvered in front of you, kneeling on the ground as he still held your hands tight. 

The smoldering look on his face made your breath catch in your throat. He was serious, as serious as you could see. There was no falsehood, no games, just pure honesty pouring from his soul. 

“The eyes of a maid, tell true, to whom her love she has given..” You whispered softly to yourself.

“Huh!? Maid- I am trying to be honest, yet you call me a maid?” His exasperation was clear, and it caused you to bark out a laugh.

“You are not the maid, you fifl! Fool! I am saying the eyes are a gateway to the soul, and while you are not a maid, you have the eyes of one. An honest opening to your heart, elskan mín.”

His stare did not waver, but instead of rage it held compassion. It held that of a caring man who you knew you couldn’t hide from, yet that would not stop you from teasing.

“However, it is that you have not won against me. How shall one win if he does not fight, hm?”

He flicked your forehead as he stood, causing you to huff in response to the surprise attack.

“Now I have, I have attacked yet not hurt you. Because for the rest of my days I shall be at your beck and call for your safety, as you will mine. We shall be equals, I will not be above you. I will give my heart, my life, my title, and my own safety to insure yours. As you will mine. We shall fight hand in hand, love hand in hand, and be hand in hand for forever until eternity. You said it yourself, I am elskan pín, your love.”

Your cheeks grew warm as you heard the words spilling from his mouth, he knew you had called him your love?

“How did you know what I had said? How do you know those words-”

He placed a thumb over your lips as he held your chin with his hand, a soft smile forming as he stared into your eyes. 

“It is as you say, Inn matki munr. ‘The mighty passion’ that we share gives me the incentive to learn your native tongue, as I hope it does for you.”

“You leaned into his touch, not wanting to fight off your feelings any longer. It was true, while he may not have attacked you, he fought for your love countless times. You knew what he was capable of, and Bakugou was a man who was not fearful of heart. He was a passionate man who made a great King, who would make a great husband.

“It shall, well it has. I accept your offer, Víkar. With my life in your hands and yours in mine, I accept it all.”

He let out a loud yell of victory, startling you further as he lifted your large frame off the ground and spun you around. You were by no means a small woman, proving further of his strength. 

“It is settled!”

“Unhand me or else, Katsuki!”

The sound of his name leaving your lips caused a shiver to run down his spine as he did what you told, gently placing you on your feet. He kissed you eagerly as you did the same, before he pulled back and rested his forehead against yours. 

“Að unna, Katsuki.”

“Ic lufie þē, (y/n).” 

And you both did, love each other very much, the soul never lies.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Okay, so yesterday when I woke up the first thing I saw was this post from @lokistan, which as you can see from my reblog made me immediately think of “gold rush” by Taylor Swift. It made me realize that out of all the folklore/evermore songs I’ve annotated and analyzed, I had yet to do “gold rush.” So I decided to remedy that immediately (I actually started writing this yesterday, but then my computer glitched and I lost all my work and I was too mad to start over again right away). And yes, I am aware that I just spent the last two hours of my life on something that probably no one will read, but I don’t care-- I love doing stuff like this so much. Here’s my interpretation of “gold rush”!

“gold rush” is the third track off of Taylor Swift’s ninth studio album evermore. It immediately stands out from the rest of the album sonically due to its ethereal production and Taylor’s lilting, dreamlike vocals. This is fitting as Taylor described this song as taking place “inside a single daydream where you get lost in thought for a minute and then snap out of it" (x). The daydream in question revolves around a person the narrator comes across and is so enchanted by that she begins to picture a life with them, while still being very aware that such a life can never really exist.

Gleaming, twinkling

Eyes like sinking

Ships on waters

So inviting, I almost jump in

The opening to the song also serves as the opening to the daydream with an immediate departure from reality—the narrator sees this person as a magical thing, thinking of sparkling, shining imagery in regard to them. The “gleaming, twinkling” serves a double purpose: gleaming inspires thoughts of shining metal such as gold, which makes sense as this is the person around whom a gold rush is about to begin, while twinkling evokes images of stars and stardom (twinkle twinkle little star anyone?), which serves to show that this person is both incredibly popular and totally out of reach.

In the second two lines, Taylor plays with enjambment, a poetic device in which the sentence continues even after the line break, which can be utilized to give the sentence a double meaning. “Eyes like sinking” sounds like a version of the common love song trope of being so fascinated with the beauty of your lover’s eyes that you could drown in them (Taylor herself has used this trope many times before, including in reputation’s “Gorgeous”: “ocean blue eyes, looking in mine, I feel like I might sink and drown and die”). This continues to show that this person is incredibly captivating and that the narrator especially is entranced by them.

However, the song continues so that the full sentence reads “eyes like sinking ships on waters,” which completely changes the image. A sinking ship is something that’s irrevocably doomed, something that you need to escape from in order to save your life. By using enjambment in this way, Taylor gives us an image of this person while simultaneously giving insight into the narrator’s internal struggle: this person is captivating, fascinating, enchanting and the narrator is undeniably drawn to them, but she also realizes that trying be with this person would not only never work, but would probably hurt her more in the long run. In other words, she’d go down with their ship. Even so, she still finds this churning water inviting, so much so that she almost jumps in—almost, because she does know better.

But I don’t like a gold rush, gold rush

I don’t like anticipating my face in a red flush

I don’t like that anyone would die to feel your touch

Everybody wants you

Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

In the chorus, we have the lilting vocals and ethereal strings of the opening replaced with a conversational tone and a firm backbeat. While the opening was the daydream, the chorus is something closer to reality as the narrator giving her reasons for not wanting to get involved with this person.

The main reason is that she doesn’t like a gold rush, which she repeats several times throughout. A gold rush occurs when gold is discovered somewhere, resulting in a horde of people rushing to the site hoping to stake a claim and get rich. However, there’s never enough gold to go around, and with the perilous journey to the gold mines and the amount that the miners have to give up to get there (in the California Gold Rush of 1849, people on the east coast of the United States were leaving behind their entire lives to either travel across the country by wagon or to sail around the tip of South America in order to get to California for a chance at some gold), people actually tend to end up losing far more than they gain.

To the narrator, this person is the recently discovered gold. They’re gleaming and rare, and now everyone is in a mad scramble to get a piece of them. She realizes that she is not the only one who is desperate to be with this person, and that chances are she’d be one of the miners who loses everything should she try to go after them. She wouldn’t be in control—she’d only be “anticipating my face in a red flush,” anticipating embarrassment, getting flustered over a person she could never have.

Walk past, quick brush

I don’t like slow motion double vision in a rose blush

I don’t like that falling feels like flying ‘til the bone crush

Everybody wants you

But I don’t like a gold rush

The second part of the chorus imagines the overwhelming nature of any relationship she would have with this person. She emphasizes how just a quick brush with this person is enough to mess with her abilities to comprehend reality: being with this person would cause “slow motion double vision” and make her think that “falling feels like flying” until she hits the ground and the bones crush (a visceral image). She ends the chorus with an adamant “I don’t like a gold rush.” However, her daydream is far from over.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominoes

I see me padding cross your wooden floors

With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door

The lilting vocals are back as the narrator once again allows herself to ignore the elephant in the room and just focus on how entrancing this individual is. She goes as far to imagine a life with this person, where there’s a sense of intimacy and familiarity (also, apparently there’s some debate about whether the “Eagles t-shirt” references the band The Eagles or the Philadelphia football team? It doesn’t really matter, as the point of the line is to show that she’s imagining a place with this person where she feels at home and safe with them, but for the record I assumed it was the football team because Taylor’s from Pennsylvania).

At dinner parties

I’ll call you out on your contrarian shit

And the coastal town

We wandered round had never seen

A love as pure as it

And then it fades into the gray of my day-old tea

Cause it could never be

She continues to imagine a life with this person, focusing (as Taylor does best) on the simple moments. “Contrarian” describes a person who goes against popular opinion often just for the sake of going against popular opinion, and the narrator imagines a level of closeness with this person where she could call them out on it. She also conjures up grander memories—visiting a coastal town where their love is the purest thing within it. However, she seems to wake up from this daydream before returning to the reality-steeped chorus when she allows it to “fade into the gray of my day-old tea”—a image that certainly contrasts with the gleaming, twinkling gold of the person she’s dreaming about. I especially love that she specifies that the tea is not just gray, but day-old—it shows how her life is mundane and emotionless. The tea’s gone cold and she hasn’t drank it yet, because she’s wistfully dreaming about something else.

Because the chorus is exactly the same as the first, we’re going to skip to the next verse.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful?

With your hair falling into place like dominoes

My mind turns your life into folklore

I can’t dare to dream about you anymore

Again, she’s allowing herself to fall into this daydream, but there’s a heightened sort of awareness this time. Instead of imagining an intimate, peaceful relationship, the narrator admits that it’s all in her head—she’s turning his life into folklore. Folklore, besides being the name of evermore’s sister album, also refers to “the traditional beliefs, legends, and customs, current among the common people” (“folklore, n. 1.” OED online), stories that are often passed down orally through generations and change slightly with each retelling. She’s realizing that her dreams about this person are nothing more than stories that she’s changing in order to live vicariously through them. Here, she admits that it’s useless to continue doing so: “I can’t dare to dream about you anymore.”

At dinner parties

I won’t call you out on your contrarian shit

And the coastal town

We never found, will never see

A love as pure as it

And it fades into the gray of my day-old tea

Cause it will never be

Here we have the same daydream as before, only modified to fit reality. She’s not going to call this person out on anything, because they don’t have that level of familiarity. They’ll never find this magical coastal town, and both they and it will never see this pure love because it doesn’t exist. This time, when the daydream fades into the gray of her day-old tea, it’s not with the wistful “it could never be,” but with a firm “it will never be.”

Gleaming, twinkling

Eyes like sinking

Ships on waters

So inviting, I almost jump in

We end where we begin, with the reminder that she could jump into this beautiful disaster, that she almost does, but she stops herself because she realizes it will never work out the way she wants to—she’ll only end up hurting herself. She spares herself from the gold rush.

[artificialqueens]

Everything Has Changed (Crystal x Gigi) - Ashley

A/N: Crystal has spent years watching her ex-best friend and next door neighbour, Gigi, rise to the top of their High School food chain, never even uttering a word to her as she waits for the bus each morning. What will happen when Crystal’s house floods and she is finds herself sleeping on Gigi’s floor for a week?

Hello again! I finally jumped on the s12 girls band wagon - hope you guys like. This plot really gave me 2013 Wattpad vibes but I decided to embrace and roll with it. Thanks sooooo much to Meggie for beta-ing! Concrit welcome. Xoxo Ashley

The day began as generic as any other for Crystal. 

A spurt of optimism filled her as she slurped down the last of her cereal and made her way outside - failing to notice the big splodge of milk that would be visible on her shirt until the fourth period. The sun was waving down on her, the slight hum of insects and the sight of her neighbour with a pair of shears at hand reminding her that spring was now in full bloom.

“Morning Crystal,” the familiar voice called over the fence.

“Morning!” She waved back at the woman who she would have once called a second mother, the auntie she had never had.

“When’s your mom back?” Maria asked as Crystal neared the end of the driveway. “I’m due a coffee date!”

“A week on Friday.” Crystal smiled back at her, remembering the days when she and Gigi used to join them on their mothers’ meetings, sipping lemonade and pretending to be sophisticated on the opposite side of the cafe. Remembering how Gigi would always make her laugh and she’d end off spitting her soda out anyway and ruining their facade.

Pulling her headphones out of her bag as she said goodbye, she looked up at the girl whose laugh was currently leaping around inside her head like a carousel, whose grinning face was a portrait in Crystal’s brain as clear as the lakes they used to play in.

Only now she wasn’t grinning quite the same.

Taking her usual seat at the bench, she glanced across at Gigi: her dark hair coiffed to perfection, her lips lined just at the right spot, her jet black beauty mark contrasting against her Snow White complexion. She was the type of girl who needed to be painted.

Their eyes met briefly, as they often did on mornings like this, Crystal darting hers away quickly in a chaotic manner and looking at her phone instead: seven twenty-seven. Her bus would be here in six minutes. Nicky would be here in three.

For a split second, she thought she felt Gigi’s eyes looking back on her but she didn’t dare look.

Instead, she tried to think of ways that she could stop herself from reading the freckles on her old friend’s arm as if they were the dictionary definition of perfection. She thought about how Gig’s mascara may have been left on from the night before, of how she’d seen the straight-A student climb out of her window and down her drainpipe like Catwoman herself to steal away into the night. Of how the Gigi she knew in reality was anything but the flawless girl that was adored around the halls.

Seven-thirty. The familiar horn rang before Gigi went to sit shotgun in her best friend’s car. Crystal let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding along with a sigh of relief that the girl was out of sight and out of mind for the day.

Or at least until they had Chemistry together in the third period.

***

“Oh my god,” Crystal spoke aloud, her body frozen for a second as she absorbed the scene in front of her.

Like something from a disaster movie, she watched as water sprayed from the enormous hole in her living room ceiling, her socks already damp through her trainers.

Her flight or fight reflexes kicking in, Crystal did the first thing her brain told her to do which was to run next door and ring their bell as many times as she could, managing to slip on her lawn and stain the knees of her jeans whilst doing so.

“Hi?” Gigi looked Crystal up and down, her nose wrinkling with curiosity as she took in the other girl’s dishevelled state, her greeting more of a question than a welcome.

“Hi.” Crystal paused, trying to think of how she could explain to Gigi that she’d simply walked through her front door after school into a foot of brown water, a smell that matched that description almost exactly, and a giant hole in the ceiling that was firing said brown water at her like an army missile.

“Can I speak to your mom?” 

***

Crystal felt her body relax slightly as she took a sip of the lemonade that was placed in front of her, a twinge of a feeling she couldn’t quite name gnawing at her when she realised that Gigi hadn’t asked what she wanted to drink, simply bringing her what had always brought comfort as a child.

She felt simultaneously overwhelmed and comforted by the sight around her, Gigi sitting in her usual seat as her hands toyed with the couch cushions. Only now an elephant sat between the pair of them, an awkward silence taking over every last air molecule in the room.

Memories flooded back to her as she let her eyes wander: the mantlepiece she had chipped her tooth on, the doors they would prance through as they pretended to be contestants on America’s Next Top Model once everyone was asleep.

Crystal felt her hands starting to sweat, rubbing them against her jeans rather frantically. She’d always managed to cope on a morning or in school - sure, sometimes the sight of Gigi sent her into a spiral of self-doubt and questions, but it was never something completely out of her control, never something that bothered her to such a great extent.

Maybe it was that she’d lost the privilege of her headphones to distract her from her past.

Maybe it was how familiar her surroundings were.

Maybe it was how natural it had first felt as she sat in Gigi’s living room.

Just as she heard the other girl start to speak, attempting to cut the tension that wrapped around the pair of them like thick green vines, they were saved by Maria entering the room again, phone in hand.

“So, your hot water tank has burst!” She looked at Crystal and let out a frustrated laugh. “The plumbers are starting to clear up now but they think it’s going to take a full week. I’m sorry sweetie. I’ve called your Mom and she’s happy for you to stay here with us and is going to try to leave her conference early.”

Maria went on to talk about getting essentials after the day’s work was finished and the logistics of their insurance but it soon became a gust of wind that swept right over Crystal’s head.

“I don’t need to say here, don’t worry!” Crystal smiled at Maria, grateful for her generosity but feeling the prick of tears at the back of her eyes daring to fall. Her eyes looked absolutely anywhere but at Gigi. “I can always go visit my family in Missouri for a week, I haven’t seen them for a while.”

“I dunno how your mom would feel about you missing a week of school, this is senior year now.” Maria placed a tentative hand on Crystal’s, clearly sensing the anxiety that was shooting out of her like flaming arrows. “Don’t stress! Think of it as one long week-long sleepover. Just like old times!”

Crystal couldn’t tell if she was trapped in heaven or hell but she knew one thing for sure, it wouldn’t be like old times.

***

Crystal found it strange how Gigi’s bedroom was so similar to how it was when they were younger, yet simultaneously different in certain, striking ways.

The antithesis to Crystal’s walls of clutter, Gigi’s room had always been pristine and that hadn’t changed. Placed on her dressing table were framed photos of her and her friends, one of her and Nicky catching Crystal’s eye.

She’d never grown close to Nicky. Even though a part of Crystal disliked her for the shit music she blasted from her sports car and for stealing away her best friend - the other, more loving side of her told her that Nicky didn’t really seem to have a bad bone in her body and that she must be fun if Gigi was so fond of her.

Crystal always found herself trusting Gigi’s judgement even though they were no longer friends, even though that judgment was cast badly upon herself.

Her eyes made their way to the other side of the room, a warm, fuzzy feeling taking over her body as she looked at Gigi’s huge world map that hung in front of her.

Pink pins for where she’d been and blue pins for where she wanted to go. Missouri caught her eye, bright pink straight away, Crystal remembering how excited Gigi had been to change its colour after she had joined one of her visits home in the holidays, how interested she was in exploring the lakes that raised Crystal. She knew Gigi would always be an explorer, it was just a shame that she was no longer the trusty navigator that bounced by her side.

Before she knew it, her hands were running across the books on Gigi’s shelves, stopping on her worn-out copy of Emma.

She never hated Gigi for the fact they were not friends anymore. She knew it happened to loads of pairs like themselves, that it’s natural to drift apart at high school and find different interests. Crystal often prided herself on being mature and understanding, knowing that sometimes there were deeper things in other people’s minds that she just had to accept. Yet at that moment, she couldn’t deny that the sight of the last birthday present she had bought for Gigi sitting front and centre, it’s pages worn and dog-eared, happened to sting that tiny bit.

“It’s not a museum,” Gigi snapped at her from across the room, only for her own face to fall a little when she saw Crystal’s - the slap of instant regret bright red on her cheeks.

“Sorry.” She moved over to the bookshelf, pulling the copy out and holding it in her manicured hands as though it were made of papier-mache. “Can you remember I used to take it out at the library so much? You gave it to me and told me it was so I never had to hide it to stop anyone else borrowing it anymore.”

Crystal’s heart dipped a whole centimetre in her chest.

Of course she remembered.

Silence enveloped the pair yet again as Crystal’s makeshift bed was constructed on the floor, a look on Gigi’s face that Crystal couldn’t quite piece together. 

Trying to fight the awkwardness, Crystal pulled out her phone and began to scroll down her Instagram feed aimlessly, no one she could message even springing to her mind.

“Oh my god, we cannot do this all week,” Gigi blurted out what she’d been trying to contain all in one breath, causing Crystal to laugh at the girl’s inability to remain silent for any given period of time. And before she knew it Gigi was laughing too, the pair almost automatically falling back into that lull that once fell so naturally. Chatting more and more naturally as the drama of Top Model made up their background music.

There, underneath the plastic demeanour, was Crystal’s old best friend.

***

At first, Crystal didn’t know where she was when she woke up, her body feeling awkward in her jeans. But her confusion slid away at the sight of Gigi at her dressing table, applying the daintiest amount of blush to her pale cheeks.

Looking down she realised she was in Gigi’s bed rather than the one made up for her on the floor, assuming that she must have drifted off whilst watching their show.

“Good morning, camper.” Gigi raised an eyebrow in her mirror and grinned, never fully turning around to look at Crystal.

“Morning.” She stretched her arms in the air, the fact that Gigi must have tucked a blanket around her whilst she slept hitting her like a tonne of bricks. “What time is it?”

“Quarter past seven.”

“Oh. That’s no good!” Crystal jumped out of the bed and began rummaging through her case quite rapidly, Gigi chuckling under her breath at the way Crystal worked as a poster girl for the chaotic good character, clearly seeing some form of adorable in the other girl’s frustration.

Pulling a leopard print shirt out of her bag, Crystal quickly removed yesterday’s jumper and spruced herself up for the day ahead, finding some blue jeans to match and throwing them on whilst Gigi carried on with her makeup in the mirror, her eyes flickering back and forth.

“I think my Mom made some breakfast if you have time. Nicky’s coming for me soon…” She trailed off almost in a defensive way, her eyes glossing back down to the palette in front of her.

“Yeah,” Crystal responded, not sure on what she was agreeing with, before starting to pack her bag for the day. “I don’t want to miss the bus, I guess I’ll see you later.”

Maybe things hadn’t changed as much as she’d thought.

***

“Ugh.” Crystal found herself longing to throw her pencil across the room in a fit of rage as she failed the seventh time to do the chemical equation in front of her.

“You know, I’m currently sitting at an A in Chemistry.” Gigi waved her hands in the air at the girl from her bed, dog-earing the corner of her book and casting it aside.

“I don’t need you to do my work for me!” Crystal squealed as she moved the paper away from Gigi’s peeping eyes, determined to finish the question.

This was now her third night in the Goode household and she was starting to scare herself at how easily she fell back into place with Gigi when no one else was around. They had spent the past few days catching each other up on their lives, watching crap TV and just being together.

It was safe to say that Crystal was starting to see the beams of a happier Gigi shine through the cracks, a Gigi who wasn’t afraid to be rough around the edges. 

But her hopes were kept low each morning when they parted their usual ways at the social jungle of their high school.

“I’m not saying I’ll do it for you, I’ll just help.” Gigi moved closer and Crystal could feel the warmth of her body on her own. The tiniest contact sending her brain in circles.“Besides, I did this three days ago; I don’t know why you’re hiding the questions.”

“Okay, but only if we do something fun after.”

“Actually.” Gigi paused and gave Crystal the grin of an excited puppy. “I have the perfect game to make up some lost time.”

***

“I’ll start.” An idea popped into Crystal’s head as she turned to face Gigi with excitement. “Number one: where do you go when you sneak off in the middle of the night?”

“Do you spy on me?” Gigi opened her jaw wide, causing Crystal to go into panic mode before releasing she was simply playing. “Sometimes it’s to meet people by the quarry and have a drink. Sometimes I just like to go get some fresh air alone.”

Crystal could sense she wasn’t getting a full answer but didn’t want to pry, preparing herself for what she’d be asked.

“Hmm.” Gigi giggled to herself as she gave Crystal a once over. Crystal could almost see the lightbulb pop out of her pretty little head when she thought of a question. “Number two: do you think Mr. Charles has a crush on you?”

Taking Crystal by surprise, it took her a minute to gain her composure. “What sort of question is that?”

“A genuine one!” Gigi tried to pull a straight face. “I see the way he’s always staring at you, putting his hand in your hair when he checks your work.”

“Oh my god, you’re disgusting.” Crystal smacked the other girl with a pillow resulting in the biggest scene of dramatics she’d witnessed since their school’s production of Les Mis.

The questions began to roll one after the other, starting off as fun and light-hearted.

“Where do you even sit at lunch?”

…

“Pasta or pizza?”

….

“When did you lose your virginity?”

….

“Was Poland as good as you thought it would be?”

…

“Do you remember our time capsule?”

…

But as the sky outside started to darken, their subject matter deepened. It has reached that time of night where boundaries dilapidated and unbreached territory began to be uncrossed.

“Number 10.” Crystal paused, building up the courage to finally breach the topic the pair has shied away from all week. “Was it because everyone called me a dyke? Is that why we’re not friends?”

Crystal watched as her friend winced - wishing so much that she could just pretend that period had never occurred and never to speak about it, but knowing that it was a bridge both she and Gigi needed to cross and it would be much better if they could cross it together, stopping each other from falling between the jagged planks.

“Partly, yeah.” Gigi nodded and looked Crystal in the eyes.

Really, really looked into her eyes.

“I don’t think I thought that at the time, I told myself we just had different interests. But I think that sometimes I just get so caught up in what people think about me, I get lost in what’s right and wrong. I’ve just always wanted to be ‘perfect.’ I lost sight of what that even meant. But I never, ever cared what you thought about me. Not in that way, at least…” She trailed off and Crystal placed a comforting hand over hers, letting her know that she was loved. “I’m so sorry.” A single tear fell down her face. The first time Crystal had seen her cry since they were seven. “Do you hate me?”

“No.” Crystal squeezed her hand tighter.

It was the truth. Even though sometimes she wanted to, she couldn’t have ever hated Gigi even if she tried. 

She knew that her actions were wrong, she knew that she couldn’t make excuses for not being there, for not trying to stop it. She knew that things wouldn’t magically click back to how they used to. But she also knew that Gigi was sorry.

Scars took time to heal.

And they’d still be visible even once they had.

But people say they only make someone stronger.

“If I was you, I think I’d hate me. Feel free to slap me if you want.”

“Do you really want me to slap you?” Crystal raised an eyebrow to the girl.

“No.” Gigi sighed. “And you just wasted your question.”

“Fuck sake.” Crystal found herself blushing for no apparent reason. She guessed that Gigi just brought out the nervous side of her sometimes.

“Number thirteen: what does your tattoo say?” 

Crystal was a deer in the headlights.

Her tattoo - the most genius yet idiotic idea she’d ever had in her life.

Aged 16, still reeling in that high you get from a gig with a fake ID at the ready.

Somewhere nice and hidden where hardly anyone would see, figuring she’d never have to explain it to anyone she wasn’t intimate with, always having the open option to lie about it’s meaning to save embarrassment.

But Gigi had seen it.

She thought of the past few days when they’d both been getting ready for school.

Never really processing it herself, she had peaked at Gigi’s body - slight glances at the way her ribs and clavicle jutted out through her skin.

She didn’t realise Gigi had been looking back.

“One Direction,” she responded after what was probably a longer than socially-acceptable pause.

“One Direction?” Gigi exclaimed back, wrinkling her nose and opening her mouth wide at the girl.

“Yes.” Crystal replied seriously, trying to stop the laugh from slipping through her lips. “One Direction.”

“That is weird on so many levels, Crystal.” Gigi shook her head and started to laugh. “You mean to tell me that when you sit on the bench with that unapproachable look on your face wearing black eyeliner thicker than your wrists, you’re blasting Truly, Madly, Deeply from your headphones?”

“Yep,” she simply stated. Strangely it had never occurred to her before that as she made hidden glances at Gigi each morning, Gigi was taking them back just the same.

“Crystal Elizabeth Methyd, you never fail to surprise me.”

***

“You don’t need to feel bad about leaving me, I’ve got stuff to do,” Crystal pleaded as Gigi scavenged through her closet like an excited child with their first-ever Barbie doll.

It was Thursday night and the end of Crystal’s impromptu vacation in the Goode household. Her typical night consisted of homework, pizza, and reading old fan-fiction until four AM.

Gigi had different ideas.

“How many parties have you been to in high school?”

“None,” Crystal answered, not even attempting to slip out a lie.

“Exactly,” Gigi replied before settling on a pink latex dress and throwing it in Crystal’s direction.

“You don’t have to feel guilty about me missing out, I’ve never wanted to and we have school tomorrow!” Crystal examined the dress, her eyes widening at the thought of how much skin it would show.

“Maybe I just want you there.” Gigi stopped as she settled on her own dress. “Maybe I just enjoy your company.”

Crystal didn’t need to be told twice.

“Fine.” She responded, resulting in some excited squealing and hand-clapping from the other side of the room. “But I just can’t wear this.”

“Sure you can, just undo the zipper, step into it, put your arms through the sleeves and do it back up again. It’s not that hard. I can help if you’d like?”

Crystal tried hard not to give her the satisfaction of a laugh but once again failed. “You know what I meant.”

“At least try! I spent good money on that and it hangs off my body. You’ve got the curves to fill it at least.”

Trying her hardest not to blush, Crystal gave in and tried the dress on, surprising herself at how good it actually looked.

“See!” Gigi motioned her hands up and down at Crystal’s body. “I know these things.”

It was safe to say that Crystal was waiting for the day she’d win one of her verbal battles with Gigi Goode. Yet she was never really that annoyed when she lost them.

***

Although a small part of her wished she was curled up in bed with a bag of M&Ms watching a movie, Crystal was enjoying herself. 

Yes, she had spent the majority of the night by Gigi’s side, dancing like idiots and watching people hook up, but she still found herself branching out in smaller ways, taking as many steps as her size fives could - partly because she wanted to and partly because of the smile she saw on Gigi’s face as she conversed with Nicky and the other girls. Although still sceptical around them, Crystal was happy finding common ground with Gigi’s friends, even seeing a goofy side of Nicky that she didn’t even know was there.

Distracted by her thoughts, she hadn’t even realised there was someone next to her at the punch bowl until he spoke.

“Have we met?” He looked Crystal up and down with a smile.

Yes, she thought to herself. We have around 10 hours of class together each week. But being polite and trying her hardest to make friends she didn’t dare say that aloud. “I think I’ve seen you around, I’m Crystal.”

“Josh.” He took her hand and shook it, holding on for maybe a second longer than normal. “Bit less exciting than Crystal.”

“My mom was really into Pokemon during her pregnancy,” she responded. However, before her joke could be processed she felt the red punch from the boy’s hand splash across her front.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry.” He looked at Crystal apologetically before rushing to grab a dishtowel. “I hope I’ve not stained your dress.”

“It’s Gigi’s so I think you’d be feeling her wrath rather than mine.” Crystal went to reach for the towel only for the boy to start wiping away at her front.

“Oh, I can do that.” She went to swat his hand away when they were interrupted by a familiar cough.

“God, Gigi, you ought to keep that one on a leash.” One of her friends muttered under their breath, just loud enough for Crystal to hear and take a step backwards.

She watched her friend’s face turn at the sight, watched her mouth open and close twice before she spoke. “Do you mind moving away from my friend?”

“Gigi, it’s fine,” Crystal responded as the boy she was talking to leapt away from her and raised his hands in the air. “I can handle myself.”

“Nicky will drop you off home.” She ignored Crystal’s words before turning to leave the room. “I think I’m gonna walk.”

“Wait.” Crystal shouted after her as she made her exit, just the two of them standing in the large foyer, Gigi haphazardly raking around for her snakeskin jacket. “I was just being friendly, I don’t see the problem.”

“That’s because you’re naive. You let people take advantage of you.” Gigi turned to face Crystal, finally finding her jacket and slinging it over her thin frame. 

“Or maybe you’re just a jealous bitch who can’t deal with the attention being on someone else for a second.” Crystal spat back at her, shocking herself with her words.

It was a word that had floated around a lot since Gigi became popular but it had never quite reached the surface. She knew Gigi wasn’t a bitch - remembering the time she spent seven hours making her a friendship bracelet in all her favourite colours, the time they went to the theme park and they rode all the scary rides even though Gigi was terrified of them, just so her friend would be happy. She knew her intentions were good in scaring the boy away, a part of her just wished that Gigi would stop looking at her like the lost puppy she was in freshman year. But that’s what came out of her mouth, and she couldn’t take it back now.

She watched Gigi stop in her tracks. Bending down and resting her body on the shoe rack below her.

“I’m sorry.” Crystal went to join her side. “I didn’t mean that. I know you mean the best, I just don’t need you to defend me.”

“You’re right,” she spoke, clear frustration seeping from somewhere deeper than their current argument, a small crack in her voice. Once again Crystal had hit the wall in Gigi that she was yet to break down. “I just want you to understand.”

“Then help me to.” Crystal reached a hand out to her, squeezing, once, twice.

At first, she remained still, but Crystal then saw the switch flip. Gigi squeezed back.

“I need to steal a shovel.”

***

The sky around the pair was still dark, their two phone torches shining down on the route that their feet had danced across so many times.

Although Crystal knew that they should probably wait till morning and that Maria would probably realise they were gone, she didn’t want to sacrifice Gigi opening up to her, her heart beating faster and faster as they walked through the meadow.

“I’m pretty sure there’s still another six years till we’re supposed to dig this up.” Crystal shivered, the side effects of the punch she drank starting to wear off. “I can’t believe Gigi Goode is voluntarily breaking rules!”

“Shut up.” She gave Crystal a friendly punch before taking off her coat and wrapping it around her friend’s shoulders, Crystal still feeling a pang of guilt for the way she spoke to Gigi at the party, knowing that she had been nothing but kind to her the past week they had lived together.

“Here.” Crystal stopped, pointing at the signpost marking their spot, remembering the day they buried their time capsule as if it were yesterday.

***

“Is this a report card?” Crystal laughed as she shone her torch at the paper in front of her.

“Oh my god, yes!” Gigi took the paper in her hands. “I didn’t want my Mom to find out I got a C in music class.”

“Classic Gigi.” Crystal sighed.

Pulling out the friendship bracelet she had made years before, Gigi gasped before grabbing Crystal’s arm and sliding it on. “As if it still fits.”

As the girls waded their way through cinema tickets and keyrings, they found themselves falling back into their old selves more and more - getting lost in conversation as the night faded away and the sun started to rise.

“I don’t remember this being in here.” Crystal pulled out a photograph of the pair of them in Missouri, aged fourteen, grinning like idiots on Crystal’s grandma’s porch.

Flipping it over, she recognised Gigi’s sophisticated scrawl on the back::

This week I finally got to go with Crystal when she visited home. It was so amazing because I hate it so much when she isn’t here, nothing is fun. When I’m with Crystal I don’t have to be perfect - I wish we could grow old together, just the two of us in our own land away from everyone else, everything would be so, so much easier.

There was more but Crystal stopped, looking up to her best friend’s nervous face to realise it was blurry. She hadn’t even realised she was crying.

“Crystal.” Gigi wiped her tears away with her thumb, only leaving her hands on her friend’s cheeks once she was done.

They were freezing yet it made Crystal’s whole body burst up in flames.

Crystal thought of all the sleepless nights and daydreams where she’d pictured this moment.

Somehow it was better than all of them combined.

Their lips touched, soft at first, gentle, afraid to hurt each other. Then their kiss grew deeper, it was hungry, passionate, it had been locked in a cage for years and years only finally to be released.

Crystal didn’t know how long they’d been kissing for when Gigi pulled away, but she wouldn’t have minded if it had been forever.

“I was scared. A scared girl who pushed you away instead of accepting who I was. It’s more, Crystal, you know it’s more. It’s always been more.”

Crystal nodded, placing her hands on the girl’s shoulders as she carried on her choked sentences.

“This past week, as corny as it sounds I didn’t just find you again, I found the old me.”

“Well, we’re both here to stay,” Crystal whispered before pulling the girl into another embrace which somehow dared to be better than their last. “Come on, you’re shivering, let’s get you home.”

***

Crystal woke with the sun beaming through the window, her body perfectly entwined with Gigi’s.

At first, she thought she had dreamt it: their kiss at the meadow, the way she went to sleep on the floor and felt Gigi’s arm drop down from her bed, her breasts soft as silk and her moans sending Crystal insane. 

But the way Gigi’s head nestled into her collarbone told her she hadn’t.

She wanted to freeze the moment in a frame and relive it forever - the fear hitting her that Gigi would act cool like it was no big deal.

She lay a kiss on her head before making her way for a shower - the first time all week that she hadn’t woken up to Gigi perfecting her makeup or already dressed- the perfect girl’s routine thrown out the window as she lay in bed.

After returning from the shower, she noticed Gigi was awake, rushing to get ready.

“C’mon.” She looked Crystal up and down. “We’ll be late.”

***

Crystal’s palms became heavy with sweat as she sat next to Gigi on the bench. 

Maybe she regretted it. Maybe it was some sort of sick joke. Why hadn’t she spoken about it? Was she being off with her, or was she just tired?

Crystal felt sick, checking her phone for the time: seven twenty-five.

She couldn’t wait till Nicky got here, the sight of Gigi’s face next to her sending her brain into spirals of existentialism.

She thought about this time on Monday. How much had changed in a week? Or in reality how much it had gone back to the way it was before.

Whatever would happen next she just thanked God/the man who fitted her water heater that at least it happened - the love bite on her neck marking that no one could take this away from her.

Maybe Gigi would go further in denial - Crystal watched her as she tapped her foot on the ground.

“Are you not gonna give me a headphone?” Gigi smiled at her, snapping Crystal’s mind of doubt back to reality, feeling Gigi’s hand fall onto her thigh. “I fancy some One Direction.”

Pulling her phone out in excitement, Crystal’s mood quickly dipped back as she read the time: seven twenty-nine.

“Nicky will be here for you in a minute.” She gave a disheartened smile and put her phone back in her pocket.

“Oh.” Gigi moved her hand over the top of Crystal’s and grinned. “I told her not to come, figured I ought to get the bus today.”

[unadulteredunpopularopinions]

The Hatred for Sakura Haruno is so ridiculous

The dick riding and band wagoning is ridiculous.

If you dislike Sakura for whatever reason, maybe you don’t like the color of her hair. Or just don’t like the character period. That. Is. Fine.

But when you call her useless and make so much emphasis on it, then go on to idolize Hinata of all people. Like I think as far as not being useful, Hinata and Tenten take the cake out of the female characters. While Ino, along with the other k12 girls, is not on par with Sakura as far as strength, Ino still is pretty useful in the war. 

I like the potential that Hinata has. She is a hyuuga, why not? But I am not going off of what a Hyuuga is supposed to be able to do, but going off of what SHE is able to do....and its not much. But, as she is now, as a character she is pretty lacking. And NaruHIna is so unfounded and out of nowhere/bland, that it almost make me hate her. Or rather hate the fans. Some of them who just go too crazy and illogical.

  If NH was done COMPLETELY different, maybe I don’t know...had some actual interaction to build Naruto’s interest in her and not a genjutsu (makes no sense still as Kurama is supposed to make him immune to that) view of HER memories of stalking him, then I would be fine.

But OVERWHELMINGLY, the direction the story was going was NS or SNS (chemistry was there for this one but I kind of knew that obviously a shounen manga wouldn’t do a gay pairing) as far as chemistry, interaction, and the seemingly mutual feelings. 

There are some Karin fans that don’t like her but for the most part its overwhelmingly NH fans shit talking. I like both Karin and Sakura and see and acknowledge their faults, just as I do for every other character. 

It also amazes me that the same people dogging Sakura for being the Tsundere that she is, go on to simp for other female Tsunderes who just happen to be big-breasted. 

I think now in order to be a big anime reviewer on YT, you must jump on the Sakura hate band wagon. 

Most fans dropped even searching about Naruto because of how betrayed they felt, so they don’t look up anything. I did too. I refuse to contribute to their and Kishimoto’s revenue. I am still going to review though.

The bandwagoners that were pleased with the ending for some reason keep searching up Naruto. If you were truly satisfied, you wouldn’t be constantly searching up the same videos or videos that literally repeat the same thing as the next guy/girl.

[cowboisadness]

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x FemOC} Chapter 10

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: None

.....

The next morning was blissfully quiet, everyone going about their business and doing camp chores as per usual. Sitting with Mary-Beth, hand deep in laundry buckets overflowing with soapy water I couldn't help but wonder why there wasn't a sense of urgency after the meeting with those Pinkertons yesterday. With how worried Arthur seemed I was under the impression it was a serious matter that would need to be dealt with in some way. Maybe they were used to this happening, maybe it wasn’t as big of a deal as I perceived it to be.

“Do you read, Miss Bella?” Mary-Beth asked, pulling me out of my thoughts. 

“Sure. Used to always read as a kid.”

“Any of those being romance and love stories? Those are my favourite to read.”

“A few. Jane Eyre, Pride and Prejudice, Madame Bovary, although that one is tragic in the end.” I wring out a shirt covered in dirt and even blood from a recent stagecoach job a few of the men went on. I didn't even want to ask whose blood it was. Scrunching my nose in slight disgust and plunging the shirt back into the water to work at it some more.

“I’ve written a few little stories of my own, hoping to write a novel someday.” She smiled sheepishly to me then looking back down to the bucket. Violently scrubbing at something that must also look in the same state as the shirt currently in my hands.

“Haven’t you ever thought of leaving and making a true love story of your own?” I shift my legs from below me to sit more comfortably. The knife I hadn’t yet given back to Arthur after being at the lake slightly stabbing into my ankle from its position in my boot.

“I have once or twice. It’s too dangerous for us ladies being out in the world alone. I don’t know where I would be if Dutch and Hosea didn’t find me a few years ago.”

“What happened?” I look at her now. I had a genuine curiosity when it came to knowing these peoples stories and how they all came together. They all had lives I would only ever hear about in story books or newspapers so being a part of their lives and this merry band of fools was still rather surreal to me. Like one of those dreams that feel so real until you woke up, only I hoped I wouldn’t wake from this due to the fear of waking up back in that house, Frank at my side

“I was getting chased by a few men I had stolen from. I’m a damn good pickpocket but I must have got a bit too confident. Dutch and Hosea saw and helped me get away with them.”

I shot her a smile, both of us continuing with our tasks before Miss Grimshaw made her rounds and scolds us for slacking.

By mid-afternoon when some sense of quiet had fallen within the camp, I made my way to the edge of the camp, sitting upon a rock and looking out over the overlook, coffee in hand. My fingers still shriveled up, resembling raisins from the seeminly never-ending laundry this morning.

“Not thinking of jumping again are you?” Arthur pulls me from my thoughts as he approaches. 

“Not funny. Besides, why would I jump when I have a gun in my possession now?”

He huffs at that, coming over to stand beside me and pulling out a pack of cigarettes from his satchel. Lighting one with a match strike to the rock I was sat on. “You okay after yesterday?”

“Yeah, just,” I bite my lip, thinking of the right words to say “Is nothing going to be done about it? Seems like a serious issue.”

“Dutch says he’s dealing with it.”

I hum at this, trusting his word on the matter.

“Busy today?” I ask, taking a brief sip of my coffee, feeling it flow down my throat and burn slightly.

“Well, had to collect some debt not far from here on behalf of Strauss. Fella was dead already.”

“Have you told Strauss that you didn’t get the money?”

“Nah not yet. Should have forced it from the widow but I couldn’t. Might be legal work but it don’t sit right with me,”

“How so?” 

“Robbing banks and stealing from rich folk is one thing, they have all the money they need while others starve. Strauss picks out those that are starving, those with nothing.”

“Don’t do it then.” I shrug, seemingly pointing out the obvious.

“We need the money.” He shrugs too, taking a drag and blowing out the plume of smoke.

“So do they. Help people as need helping. That’s what you said to me.”

“Ain’t that simple.” he huffs again, this time in frustration.

“I’m still not accustomed to your way of life yet. But, I do have a few questions.”

“Shoot.”

“Five thousand dollars. How on earth did you get a bounty that high?”

“Numerous things. Robberies, killings, hostages.”

“Oh, I’m familiar with that one.” I nod before turning to face him. Arthur swaying slightly with a hand resting on his gun belt before continuing.

“Being Dutchs’ main gun, so they call me, is probably a reason too. I wasn’t involved with the job in Blackwater but my name was mentioned regardless.” He takes another drag before flicking the stub out over the edge.

“What happened in Blackwater?” I ask, my coffee now cooling and long-forgotten, still in the clutches on my hands and perched on my lap. 

And so he told me of what happened. That he had a job with Hosea that seemed like it would work out fine without needing to rob a ferry full of bank money. That the robbery turned into a massacre, swarmed by Pinkertons with no way but to shoot their way out and everyone fleeing for the hills. The hushed words of Dutch killing an innocent woman. Having to escape from Blackwater and the Great Plains and up into the deadly icy mountains, losing most of their possessions, all their money and a few members along the way. Then they ended up here, trying to lay low until they had enough money to leave again. That’s why they planned to rob Frank. Strike up a false business deal and then take what he had at the party all those weeks ago. It was risky but with being so far from Saint Denis they thought it would be worth a shot. They are desperate. “I know plenty of rotten rich folk. If any opportunity comes up for you to rob them. I’m more than happy to give over whatever information I have.”

“Really? You would help us to rob your fancy friends?”

“They ain’t my friends. Like I said, some of them are rotten and deserve it.”

“Sure.”

There were a few moments of silence as he shifted on his feet again. I turned back to the view ahead and then down to the cold cup in my hands, huffing as I flung the liquid out onto the grass at my feet. Might as well get another cup.

“I best go see what John wants in town.”

I nodded with a smile and with that he left and made his way to the horses. Giving his horse a few gentle pats on the neck before mounting up and leaving camp towards Valentine.  

Sitting with Abigail and Tilly at the fire a few hours later, laughing amongst ourselves and sharing a bottle of whiskey, enjoying the easy day it had been. That was until rumbling hoof beats came thundering down the eastern path. Dutch, John and an injured Strauss shouting for everyone to get started on packing up the camp now. Dutch made his way to his tent, Hosea following in quickly behind him. 

With the sudden sense of urgency, everyone stood and started gathering whatever they could around the camp, preparing wagons and disassembling tents. I didn’t really know what to do, so I sought out Grimshaw for orders as she was swiftly moving about the camp, making sure everyone was doing something. She soon presented me with one, helping Pearson pack up the food wagon and to make sure nothing is left behind. I turned on my heels and made a beeline towards the wagon in question wondering what the hell had happened for us to be moving so quickly. Questions for later I told myself as I helped Pearson empty water barrels and pack up all food wares.

It wasn’t long until everything was packed up, evidence that this had been done probably a few times in the past. Dutch had us all follow him in the front wagon, telling us all of a place that has been cleared out for us thanks to Charles and Arthur. I mounted Orion instead of sitting in a wagon with the other girls, staying close behind everyone as we made our way. The new camp sat right by Flat Iron Lake and it didn’t take long to reassemble everything again. Everything back up and running by nightfall.

The next morning everyone seemed to be woken by the brightness dawn brought upon us but the heat that Lemoyne was known for. Everyone was already sweating and agitated, although that agitation could also be down to having to run once again. Getting themselves into more trouble and some worried that it was going to be simply impossible to get themselves out of this hole they are digging for themselves. They believed Dutch would get them all to brighter pastures. A blind loyalty that hasn't failed them before. We were all filled in on the goings-on the day before by word of mouth. A shootout with Cornwalls men, John and Strauss lucky to get out with their lives if it wasn't for Dutchs’ way with words and Arthurs’ way with guns.

A few others planned on heading into the town nearby, Rhodes. To get a feel of the place and scope out any potential jobs or leads. Karen and I sat in the wagon, Arthur and Charles upfront as we made our way to the new town with new possibilities. I had mentioned a previous visit to Rhodes to sell a few horses to the Braithwait family that live nearby. Once at the dusty town of Rhodes, a thankful change from a soiled and shit foul town of Valentine, we all decided to split. Arthur and Charles made their way to the station, Karen towards the parlour house and I made my way to the general store. We were under strict orders not to ask too many questions to prevent bringing any unwanted attention to ourselves. Strangers turning up to this small town asking strange questions would spread quickly here. Three men sat on the stairs of the store, making my way past them without a second thought and entering the small store. A chime above the door alerting the owner as I made my way inside. The place didn't have much but it had the basic necessities. Sauntering around I took in what they had. Coffee, salted meat, tinned fruit, fresh produce, a few tonics and...chocolate bars. The corners of my mouth lifted in a bright smile at the sight of something sweet, oh it had been a good while since I had chocolate and I'm sure $2 for one bar would be worth it. 

I picked up a bar and a box of oatcakes for Orion, swiftly making my way to the counter to ring up my purchases. 

I exchanged pleasantries with the owner, a thin man with sparse hair on his head but an impressively large moustache. He asked if I was staying in town long when the door charm rang out behind me. I paid no mind to the various footsteps I could hear instead y attention was caught when one cleared their throat, prompting me to turn to face them. It was the three men previously sat outside, their attention solely on me.

“You look awfully familiar, Miss” One man said with a slight Irish accent from what I could tell.

“I’m new to town. Just passing through.” I smile slightly 

“A lady shouldn’t be passing through town on her own.” Another man said, stood by the door.

“Oh, I’m not…”

“Why don't you come with us?” The first man drawled, taking slow but confident steps towards me. Instinctively I moved back each time he made a step forwards, quickly being stopped by the serving counter digging into my back. “I...I assure you gentlemen I am... not alone” I stuttered, my eyes swiftly looking towards the windows in the hopes someone, anyone, would make their way over.

“I don't see anyone else here. You're coming with us, missy.” With that, he lurched forward to grab my arms. His grip digging into my flesh as I tried helplessly to push him off. Mentally scolding myself for not bringing my gun with me.

“Get off me!” I squealed, my thrashing no use as one of the other men appeared beside me, tying a cloth around my head and pushing the fabric into my mouth to quell my protests. A black sack following soon after to cover my full head. 

I trashed as hard as I could, kicking the man still gripping my arms so hard I'll for sure be left with bruises. 

“You're making this worse for yourself, missy. And you... say a word of this to anyone and this place will be burned to the ground with you in it!” With that, they began to drag me away through what must have been through the back door, away from the main street. 

My hand got tied together swiftly, the rope burning into my flesh and tears burning down my face. Trying to pull back was useless, digging my heels into the dry dirt a weak attempt to escape their relentless grasps. Hauling me up and onto the back of a horse, the three men laughed as they mounted. Taking me away to god knows where to do god knows what to me.

“Any funny business and I’ll punch seven shades of shit outta you. Give you something to cry about.” The man whose horse I was upon shouted back towards me, thundering hoofbeats ringing out in my ears.

@kashasenpai​

[obxfics]

Can’t Help Falling in Love

summary: in a perfect world, you could be with the pogues without putting anyone you loved at risk, but you didn’t live in a perfect world. you lived in the outer banks, and sometimes sacrifices need to be made to protect those you care about.

pairing: pope x reader

word count: 2,717

a/n: once again 60s AU! When i said it would be a series, i should have clarified that it would be a collection of fics. They don’t all necessarily take place in the same universe, hence the different pairings. i’m really enjoying these, so i hope you enjoy reading them! fair warning tho: this does not have a happy ending. i may write a part two using another song if y’all are interested, but as for this fic right now... this will not be a feel good fic.

The Summer Garden Party. The biggest event of the summer on Kildare island, and one that only those from Figure Eight were invited to. Neither one of your brothers, or you for that matter, really enjoyed going, mostly because your family didn’t really fit in with the rest of the second homers, but your grandparents had long been invited, and your father’s diner was a favorite for even the Kooks, so you were forced to attend every year. Your grandmother always picked out a lovely dress she had probably seen on the First Lady or Grace Kelly, and your brothers were shoved into slacks and sports coats, your mother forcing them to sit still as she slicked their hair back as if they were some big Hollywood actors. You wished your friends—well they weren’t really your friends anymore were they.

Earlier in the summer, you were forced to part from the Pogues after your diner had been trashed and Pope… the boy you loved was jumped because of your association with the lower class group. You knew on some level they understood, or at least John B did when you told him tearfully when he had come to check up on you, but you were still afraid that they hated you. Did they think you betrayed them by choosing the Kooks over them? It wasn’t much of a choice for you. Your family’s safety had been put at risk, and while you adored your friends, you loved them too much to see them hurt again. You couldn’t be the reason Pope was attacked or worse. So you played the perfect Kook. You dressed in tasteful dresses and pants inspired by Audrey Hepburn, attended summer tea parties, and went to the movies in the Camerons’ pretty blue Thunderbird. And then at night you went upstairs, wiped away all the make-up you had caked on, let your hair down, and cried yourself to sleep.

“Lovelies, are you ready?” your grandmother asked, poking her head into the bathroom where you were just finishing up with your makeup and your mother had finished twisting the last strands of hair into the updo you had decided on.

“Yes, Mother, we just need to put the finishing touch,” your mother answered.

You closed your eyes and tried to breathe when your mother uncapped the hairspray can and started spraying the elaborate hairstyle she had spent an hour doing. Even so, you coughed as you waved the sticky mist from your face and edged to the bathroom door to escape the fumes.

“Not so fast, young lady,” your mother called, smiling when your grandmother stopped you from leaving. “You’re forgetting the most important part!”

You managed to suppress the urge to roll your eyes when you saw the pearl necklace in your mother’s hands. It was a precious family heirloom, passed down from your grandmother to your mother and now to you, but as much as you loved your family, you still hated the feeling of going full Kook. You had betrayed your friends, and for what? To wear fancy clothes to fancy parties and laugh at rude boys who wanted nothing more than to taint you? Still, you allowed your mother to place the necklace on you and clasp it at the back of your neck. The pearls were cool on your collarbone, and you had to admit that you looked quite nice, but you didn’t look like you, not really. How you longed to lounge about in your bikini, Keds, and one of Pope’s Hawaiian shirts. You were your father’s daughter, a wild child who belonged to the waves, whether that be the Florida coast or the Outer Banks.

“Oh, honey, you look beautiful,” your grandmother sniffled, careful not to smudge her makeup. “So much like your mother at your age.”

“Ladies!” you heard your father call up the stairs. “Are we going to this shindig or not?”

“Is it that time already? Oh, dear, we can’t be late!”

You followed your mother and grandmother down the stairs, taking careful steps to seem graceful in the pumps you were forced to wear. At the bottom of the stairs, you saw your father and grandfather tucking a few cigars into their coat pockets while Christian and Diego fussed with their suspenders and gelled up hair. You all looked the part of a perfect Kook family. You took Diego’s outstretched hand and smiled gratefully at Christian when he draped your shawl over your shoulders. Well at least you still had your brothers even if you couldn’t have your Pogues.

“I say we stay for an hour, steal some booze, and make a break for the beach,” Diego whispered as you all climbed into the station wagon.

“Aw, you don’t want to dance with any pretty girls?” Christian teased his younger brother.

“Diego’s already been through all the pretty girls on the island,” you laughed, checking to make sure your parents and grandparents hadn’t heard. “He’s so used to drinking and partying at college. I bet you even smoke some things Mother and Pops wouldn’t approve of,” you whispered with a giggle.

“Nothing you can prove,” Diego said, before grinning and showing you what he had stowed in his inside coat pocket. “But we could have a very pleasant night if y’all wanted to.”

The three of you stifled giggles as your car pulled up to the Country Club where you could already hear the sound of the band playing under the stars. You took the hand that the valet offered you with a smile, and you took a moment to smooth out any creases that had formed while you had been squished between your brothers before you looked up to thank the valet.

“Pope,” you breathed out when your eyes met those of your ex-lover’s. Your heart clenched painfully, and your grip on his hand tightened without your permission. “Thank you,” you whispered.

He offered you a small, sad smile and squeezed your hand once before letting go. “You look beautiful tonight, Miss y/l/n. Please enjoy your evening.”

Your brothers each took ahold of one of your arms and led you forward before you could have a breakdown before even stepping foot into the party.

“Keep looking forward,” Christian whispered in your ear when he saw you begin to look behind you. “Rafe and Topper are already keeping an eye on us.”

Although it physically pained you to do so, you restrained yourself from looking back at the boy you loved with all your heart, and instead smiled and allowed Topper to kiss your cheek. You hated that you had to go on dates with him, pretending to be infatuated with him. All to protect those you actually loved. He took your hand from your brothers’ and began leading you away from them towards the area by the state set up for dancing. The band was playing “A Teenager in Love,” and your stomach turned at the thought of being in Topper’s arms swaying to it together. But you would bear it.

“You look beautiful,” he told you as he placed his hands at your waist. “Like Grace Kelly, almost.”

You were sure your grandmother would love to hear that, but you knew she wasn’t fond of most the families in Figure Eight. While your grandparents raised your mother here, they had worked hard to get to where they are, and they adored your father despite his poorer upbringing. They had never bought into the class division of the island, and they despised how kids your age were being raised to hate on those less fortunate than them. She, like you, knew Topper and Rafe were among the worst, but you assured her that you knew what you were doing getting involved with them. You didn’t. You just knew that if you were with one of them, no one would dare mess with you, and you were in a position to take their attention from the Pogues. So you swallowed your nausea each day and allowed Topper to kiss you and touch you.

“I can’t believe those lowlives are allowed here,” he growled, bringing you from your thoughts.

You turned your head to see he was glaring at the Pogues. All three boys were dressed as waiters, Pope having left his post as valet once everyone had arrived. Your heart pounded in your chest when you felt his grip on your waist tighten. You placed your hand on his cheek, smiling at him in an attempt to get him to focus solely on you.

“The Garden Party wouldn’t be successful without people serving the drinks, right?” you cooed. “Just focus on dancing with me.”

It seemed to work for a few moments until you noticed Diego approach the Pogues. What was he doing?

“What the hell is your brother doing?” Topper echoed your thoughts.

“I-I don’t know. Wait, Topper!”

You weren’t quick enough to grab his wrist as he made his way over to where your brother was.

“What’s happening?” Kie was at your side in a flash.

“I don’t know! Diego just went over to talk to the boys, and now Topper is going to blow a gasket!”

The two of you rushed after your “boyfriend” as he got in Diego’s face. Your brother raised his arms in a placating manner, his eyes flashing over to meet yours in a panic.

“Whoa, calm down, buddy,” Diego said in a gentle tone, “I was just asking for them to make me an old fashioned. That’s it, Topper.”

“Topper,” you called, placing a hand on his arm once you reached him, “just leave it. Diego just wanted a drink, okay?”

A yelp escaped you when Topper shoved you away from you into Kie’s arms.

“Don’t patronize me! You two think you’re so clever, don’t you? Think I don’t realize you’re still messing around with these low-lives?” Topper snarled at you.

“Hey, you don’t get to talk to her like that!” Pope snapped.

John B held Pope back while Diego stepped aside, letting JJ approach Topper. There would be a lot worse consequences if Pope was the one to lose it. So you all were left to watch as JJ smirked and socked Topper right in the eye. Chaos descended as the boy you were with toppled to the ground, and JJ dropped on top of him to continue whaling on him. You were aware of many women around you screaming for security, and you realized you were one of them. You had to do something.

“JJ, stop!” you begged your friend. “Please, don’t hurt him!”

If he hurt Topper too bad, there was no way you could protect your friends from the Kooks. You had to stop him. You locked eyes with Christian who had come running once the first punch had been thrown. He got the message and wrapped his arms around JJ, managing to drag the blonde off your “boyfriend.” This allowed you to drop to your knees beside Topper, probably ruining your pretty dress, and touch his face tenderly. Please don’t be hurt, you begged the cosmos. For the Pogues’ sake, please don’t be hurt. Rafe helped you hoist Topper to his feet.

“Here, let’s get you taken care of,” you whispered and took his hand. “Will you let me take care of you?”

Thankfully, he let you lead him through the crowd that had formed and into the building. You found the locker room and sat him down on one of the benches so you could properly assess the damage. You saw he had a split lip and some swelling appearing around his right eye. Not too bad, but still not good. You blew out a sigh as you briefly touched the cut on his bottom lip.

“I’m going to go get some ice and a first aid kit, okay? Stay here for me.”

“You chose me,” he said.

“Are you surprised?”

“I thought you had been messing around with all of them. But you chose me tonight.”

The day I choose you is the day I die, you promised in your head. “You’re my boyfriend, and, like you say, they’re just lowlives. Every girl likes to have a bit of rebellion before settling down, right. Mine is over.” You turned to the door, “I’ll be back with that ice.”

As you entered the kitchen, you heard the band start playing again. Elvis Presley this time. You had always loved this song. Had danced with Pope to it many times in your room as it played from your record player.

“Are you okay?” you heard from behind you as you wrapped some ice up in a towel. Pope. “Did he hurt you?”

“I’m fine, Pope.”

“You need to be more careful with him.”

You whirled around to glare at the boy. “I need to be more careful? No, you need to! You all do! There is only so much I can do so he doesn’t try to kill the three of you stupid boys,” you snapped.

“Oh, so is that what you’re doing with him?” he scoffed.

“As a matter of fact, it is. You think I like being with him? He’s rude. And he hates the Beach Boys. And his hands like to wander too much at the drive-in. But I bear it all to protect you.”

Pope stepped forward so your chests were practically touching. The tension between you was palpable, and oh had you missed it.

“And why would you want to protect me?”

“Because I love you, you dolt!”

His hand was on the small of your back now, the distance between you two dwindling rapidly. You could barely focus on anything but the feel of his hand on you.

“Do you really?”

“For someone so smart, you can be so slow,” you whispered. “You are so annoying, and you never understand when I try to hint to you that I want you to kiss me like crazy in the Volkswagen, and I can never understand anything you talk about, but I still listen because it’s important to you and because… because I can’t help falling in love with you!”

You gasped when he suddenly pulled you to him and slanted his full lips over yours. Your arms wrapped around his neck as you pressed yourself to him eagerly, the heat in the room seeming to rise a hundred degrees. You missed this. Missed how he could drive you crazy yet he was the only thing you ever seemed to need. His lips left yours and traveled to your neck, and you swore you were in heaven. And then you remembered where you were, who you were.

“Whoa!” he panted when you pushed him away from you. “What’s wrong?”

“We… we can’t do this, Pope.”

“But you just said you were falling in love with me. And I… I’m in love with you too.”

Tears formed in your eyes as your heart ripped into a million pieces in your chest. This couldn’t be happening.

“I do love you. And that’s why I have to stay away from you. The people here… they don’t like that I hang around you and the other boys. If we got together, it would only be a matter of time before they hurt you again.”

“You’re hurting me.”

“Don’t… don’t say that, Pope. I’m trying to save you!”

“I don’t want to be saved! I just want you!”

You shook your head and took a few more steps back to put more distance between you. To clear your head. You were making the right decision. You grabbed the towel full of ice and saw the first aid kit by the door.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered as you passed Pope. You pressed a lingering kiss to his cheek and allowed a single tear to fall. “I wish things could be different.”

Then you moved past him and grabbed the little white box by the door. You took a deep breath to collect yourself, wiped any tears from your face, and squared your shoulders. When you stepped out those kitchen doors, you were no longer Pope’s y/n. You would be full Kook. And that’s how you were gonna stay until you could escape this island.

[sellyoursoulforagoodfic]

The Outsider Chapter 10

Ganondorf x reader

Word Count: 1295

Summary: Bad Times, Bad Times, are ahead, I tells ya.

Serious note SPOILERS FOR THE END OF THIS STORY, but also Trigger Warning: Character death, like bigtime.

It had been a month since you left, and the Gerudo kingdom was all the worse for it. During your absence, even the people that hated you came to realize what a calming presence you were on their king. He was prone to making harsh decisions; things that used to be met with patience and a want to mediate were now being ignored or even punished for taking up his time. He was quick to anger to the point that Nixa had once had to physically restrain him–as much as she could until he came back to his senses–from lashing out with his sword against some shopkeep. There were no parties, no festivals, no feasts. The few local holidays that fell within the month of your absence went completely ignored. It seemed, in their haste to be rid of you, the faction against you had failed to realize that they never really knew their king without you affecting his mental state.

Little did they know that they had it easy, but they would soon learn.

Ganon was slumped in his throne like he’d been every day since your departure, unhappy and wanting nothing more than to have you by his side. There had been no leads on the culprit that drove you to take the cursed trip to Hylia, and there was still another month to go until you finally returned. Needless to say, he was not a happy king. He rolled his eyes openly when he saw a messenger that seemed to be shaking with fear approach followed by a covered, horse-drawn cart. 

“What is the meaning of this?” he demanded, voice booming through the large room.

The frightened woman cleared her throat nervously as she raised a paper so she could read from it. “Your-Your Highness. A letter has been sent by the Hylian king with this cart.”

That garnered his attention enough that he sat forward in his seat, forearms resting atop his lets. “Well, what is it? More ridicule from a man that keeps chasing off his wives?”

“No, s-sir. I-it says, ‘I am s-sick of entert-taining your thieving ways. Is it not enough that the l-legacy of your pe-people is one no b-better than a band of ba-bandits? Now you steal one-one of our o-own and b-brainwash her to be your wife.”

He paid no heed to her terrified yelp as he roared, “What does he know of her?! We did not steal her!”

“Sir, perhaps if you let her finish,” Nixa spoke patiently, eyes not leaving her temperamental king in case she needed to protect the messenger from his wrath. 

His next order was in a growl so low that all present could feel it reverberate through their chests, “Continue.”

Nixa could only toss the girl a small smile of reassurance.

“‘A-as king of Hylia,’” she continued, voice shaking even more than before, “‘I have ordered her to be,” her eyes flicked between Nixa and Ganondorf for a breath, showing how truly terrified of finishing the letter, “‘t-t-terminated. Allow her b-body to be a less-lesson against your true n-nature.’”

Ganondorf’s eyes narrowed dangerously. “Speak carefully, little messenger, or your next words will be your last. That cannot be what that letter says; now, you speak the truth of what the king had to say or I’ll feed you to the Molduking.”

Nixa, however, was left shaking both in her hands and her head in a slow denial of the words that were just spoken into being. While the messenger cowered before their king, she slowly approached the cart, torn between not wanting and needing to see what secrets it held. Her hands were vibrating so hard that she had trouble grasping the black cloth overtop the wagon. When she pulled back the draping, she couldn’t help the scream of horror that left her mouth.

Instantly, Ganondorf was on his feet and storming to her side. The messenger barely had time to jump out of the way before he could shove her to the side. Wisely, she made a hasty exit before the king could reach the cart. He paid no mind to the fleeing girl because he only had eyes for the contents of the cart.

Inside, he saw something that would forever haunt him. Something that would never allow him to sleep peacefully again, something that would drive him to the deepest, darkest parts of his soul. Something that brought forth the beast that had been prowling at the edge of his vision, clawing at the back of his skull in an attempt to escape ever since he could remember, held back only by the ray of light that you brought whenever you were near.

Inside the cart, was you.

You were beaten, bloodied, and broken.

One hand was missing, and the dancing attire you were wearing was practically shredded from what he could only assume had been the desperate fight for your life. I knew she never should have left my side.

Beside him, Ganondorf was only vaguely aware of the fact that Nixa, his ever-strong personal guard, was openly weeping, crying out and grasping at your face as if that would make you wake up. “Leave, Nixa,” he snarled in a low voice, only barely managing to keep control of the purple energy that had started writhing around his hands.

She turned teary golden eyes to him. “I won’t leave her,” she insisted. “My baby. My baby! MY BABY! WHAT HAS HE DONE?!” she screamed her anguish as if it would bring her answers.

Ganon’s voice was controlled the next time he spoke, frighteningly so considering the sheer, unfiltered rage that was twisting his otherwise handsome face, “Leave this place, Nixa, or you will be buried here. Find those that did this; find the assassins that took her from me. Find them and kill them. I will handle the king and the rest of Hylia.”

It was Nixa’s turn to let her fury distort her beautiful face, turning her into what could only be described as a monster that thirsted for vengeance and would settle for nothing less. In an instant she had vanished in search of the blood of those who killed her daughter.

It was then that Ganondorf allowed the real magnitude of his rage to take control of his mind, body, and soul. A roar ripped its way from his throat with such ferocity that it could be heard to every border of the Great Gerudo Desert. Dark, purple energy erupted from him in a wave that leveled every structure in the city, killing every inhabitant in one fell tsunami of evil power. There was no chance of escape for anyone that was caught in the warpath as the blight of Ganon was reborn into the world. Skies darkened all the way to Central Hyrule, alerting the king to the plight that would soon be headed his way.

And at the epicenter of all this chaos was him, cradling your corpse as he wept.

“I will kill him,” he swore. “I will tear his throat out with my teeth, and eat his precious daughter’s heart in front of him while his wife watches.” His voice cracked as he murmured those words against your temple, fingers tangled in your hair like he always did when he held you.

It had been a normal scouting mission when a simple Gerudo guard stumbled across a crying little child. Anyone with eyes could see that you were destined to be close to the Gerudo King, Ganondorf. Many said that you were going to be his reason to break the cycle, the reason to save him from the beast that haunted his soul.

No one realized that signing your death warrant was the same as signing their own.

[perpetualxfire]

🐋- share a Weird/funny story?

 (I have a lot of stories I tell but I can never remember them on command so I do apologize but this probably won’t be as good as my past Absolute Bangers like “that time my sister and I tried to go wagon-surfing as kids and now two of her front teeth are fake” (which, gonna be honest, is basically the whole story), but here’s the story of how I became the Cross Country Team Cryptid.)

  (So back in High School, I was actually making a concerted effort to get the credentials to be considered for the Air Force Academy. Now, I’m an incredibly antisocial person; if I can avoid doing things with people, more often than not, I will, and... Well, I never really had any friends, likely as a result of this. So I made myself a goal - I would try to join one new activity every year of High School. By my senior year, I was on the cross country team, in band, part of the forensics team, and in a weightlifting class (we didn’t have a weightlifiting team and even if we did I probably wouldn’t join it - I was there mostly to learn how to do it). I did a lot outside of school, too, but the relevant activities here are Cross Country and Band - predominantly because 90% of our Cross Country team was in the band.)

 (So you have a group of 8 (we had a relatively small school. Not small for the state of Kansas in the USA, but definitely small compared to schools that most people I know today were in) members of the women’s cross country team who spent a good four to five hours a day together; naturally we’d end up hanging out elsewhere, too. One of the members of my team decided to get the team together as a post-season celebration, because we’d run our last meet of the season, to congratulate our runners and just relax. Now, Hannah lived outside of town, in a spacious house with a lot of land and a pool. Us, being high schoolers, in all our infinite wisdom, decided that the best possible game to play as a group of runners was tag. Fine, whatever. But not just any tag - flashlight tag. In the middle of nowhere. In the dark. In an area we weren’t familiar with.)

 (So we’re all playing our game and you can occasionally hear the periodic splash in the background of a runner who was almost spotted literally jumping off a wall-ledge at the back of the house and into the pool on the other side - a good ten feet down and six to seven feet out. I think all of us tried it at least once - it was a good get away, because we’d designated the pool as a safe zone, thinking nobody would want to get soaking wet in the middle of the night. You get in the pool, and “it” has to stop trying to pin you with their flashlight and move on.)

 (... I’m gonna be honest, I don’t actually know how flashlight tag works, and since I never really fit into any groups in school (or maybe that was just impostor syndrome?) didn’t want to call attention to myself by asking, so I’m just going with my best assumptions, here. To this day I don’t have the full context of this event, but that doesn’t matter, because I didn’t end up playing much.)

 (After my own daring leap into the pool to get my pursuer (a freshman member of the team who was (regretfully) our only junior varsity runner, since varsity was 7 people and JV was just “everybody who didn’t make varsity”) off my back, I eventually got out and took off around the house, between a row of hedges and the wall, thinking I was clever by sticking close to an obvious structure in a way that would be hard to follow. Turns out, I wasn’t very clever at all.)

 (This house had a basement, which in and of itself isn’t too surprising, or that big a deal - except that this basement had windows. In order to get functional windows in a basement, you need a spot that isn’t covered in dirt - meaning that outside of all of these windows was a hollowed out space, roughly nine or ten feet deep, and JUST big enough for a person to fit, without being able to reach the lip at the top.)

 (I, uh. I think you get where this is going.)

 (I fell right into one of these gaps. Just... Fwump. It was a perfect fit, and several feet over my head. BUT OF COURSE I didn’t want to call for help - remember, I’m the awkward kid at this party. The group retired from flashlight tag after a while, and went inside to watch a movie - I think it was one of the Lord of the Rings films? - and nobody noticed I was gone. Or, if they did, they didn’t think anything of it. I’ve disappeared from their group functions before - not to be rude, I just get overwhelmed quickly sometimes. I know they didn’t notice, because it took them five minutes for somebody to spot me through the window with my feet braced against the side of this hole and my back against the window (because it was slicker) to push myself up enough to reach the top of the hole and pull myself out. She screamed, and by the time they got out to help me, I’d managed to pull myself out.)

 (That is how I was labelled as the team cryptid for the rest of my Senior Year of High School. I disappear without anybody noticing, and reappear in the most bizarre places; this wasn’t a one-off instance.)