#and pick thru them one by one during the dark half of the year | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

steelycunt · 3 years ago

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oh oh ohhh these a goodd!!! and you’ll ruin me either way but because i don’t feel like feeling like particular shit i’m gonna ask forrrrr….. actually… okay im stuck between 1 and 13 so you take your pick!! this is a hostage situation btw if u make me sad i’ll… like. idk. threaten you with a nerf gun i’ve stolen from my brother or smth. i’m still trying to figure it out leave me alone!

(also also also sending u a bowl of soup with extra crackers thru the mail!! hopefully it stays warm!! and hopefully a kiss on the cheek will help you feel all better as well!! isn’t that how it goes with healing someone sick? a true love’s kiss? sending it either way! xoxo)

LIV LIV LIV!! LOML!!! i am so endlessly sorry this is so late...i am The Worst...but i wanted it to be happy after all i put you through with literally murdering remus in the last drabble....only the best and the loveliest for you!! you, the best and the loveliest!! here you go!! seeing as i did 13 before, i went with:

1. things you said at 1 am

He says: “Budge over, you.”

Remus obeys. When they started this, he might’ve asked, why or did you have a nightmare again or is everything alright. He never cared for the answer, but it used to buy him a few seconds—used to give him just enough time to swallow his own spit, just enough time to fashion a makeshift exoskeleton out of flannel pyjama bottoms and the dry skin of his elbows.

Now, he has less need of it: Sirius isn’t all that scary, really. At this time of night—Remus cuts a glance at his bedside table, 1 a.m. or thereabouts, supplies his wristwatch, dutifully—when he’s standing at the edge of Remus’ fourposter, he’s not so bright, not so blazing. A bit more fifteen-year-old boy.

“There you go.” Remus shuffles sideways, tugs his duvet away to let Sirius clamber in. “Feels like letting a stray in out of the cold,” he tells him; Sirius snorts as he burrows down into the mattress.

“Mm, well,” he murmurs, turning onto his shoulder, “I do have fleas.”

"God. Charming."

Sirius presses his chilled foot against Remus’ ankle—maybe to be spiteful, or maybe just to watch Remus snatch his leg away, only to move it back moments later (he doesn’t actually mind). “Horrible mutt,” Remus snaps, disgruntled, and Sirius cackles quietly.

Back when it was reserved for nightmares, this thing they do, there was none of this: Sirius would come hurtling, fleeing something, all torn about the mouth. He’d come rearranged, like a building turned to rubble (except for the times it was Remus, instead), and Remus would let him in and they’d sit here silently, stare into the dark like it could hurt them.

Neither of them have nightmares like they used to, but Sirius still comes—more and more, in recent months. This is the third night in a row, and sometimes Remus wonders if they’re too old for it to be alright: they barely both fit in the bed anymore, new bones jutting into sides and limbs stacked on top of each other. Like one of those old-timey carts piled with plague bodies waiting to be buried.

In the end, he decides he doesn’t care. This is when he gets Sirius: in the dark, in the quiet, when he’s soft. Stone mossing over.

“So. What are you thinking about tonight, Moons,” Sirius asks him, a ritual akin to a roll call. Remus Lupin, present. Sirius Black, present. Ten dozen nasty little thoughts jangling about in Remus Lupin’s nasty little head like pebbles in a child’s pocket, present. They do this every time—Sirius makes knowing him look so fucking easy.

Remus leans back against the headboard. His bed hangings droop at one corner; James and Sirius snagged them down during a playfight in second year. “Hm,” he begins, as he has every night, “let’s see. I’m thinking about, er…” he falters as he sifts through his options—he can’t say you, and he can’t say that strand of hair you haven’t brushed out of your eyes that’s been bugging me for the last minute and a half (you bug me, Sirius), and he can’t say last Tuesday you drew me that doodle of The Beatles being hit by a lorry at the Abbey Road crossing because I was humming Maxwell’s Silver Hammer in Charms, and I’m sort of worried that if you sit up right now you’ll see it sticking out of the textbook on my bedside table—but eventually he settles on, “I’m thinking about that Ginsberg poem. That one about seeing Walt Whitman in a supermarket, or something.”

“Why that?”

“I don’t know. I just am. There’s a—there’s a bit about peaches and watermelons,” Remus says. “Maybe I’m hungry, I don't know.”

He’s aware of Sirius looking at him, of their hips grazing through layers of ratty fabric. He’s aware, out of the corner of his eye, of the spill of fine dark hair over his own pillow. “You want to go down to the kitchens? We could go now,” Sirius suggests. “They’ll have that tea you like, probably. The disgusting one.”

“No, it’s fine. S’only what I’m thinking about, is all. You asked.” Remus smothers a yawn against the back of his hand (he likes to try and stay awake as long as possible, these nights when Sirius turns up), turns to his side so that their faces rest inches from each other. “I don’t know why you always bother to ask.”

“Ha. Wait—really?” Sirius inclines his head; Remus’ breath rattles. They're very close, and he’s newly conscious of the ugly pink scar scrawled across the bridge of his nose, and of the fact that his duvet will smell like Sirius tomorrow (loamy pine; cigarette smoke and that soap that comes in solid white bars). “You really don’t know?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Do you...why do you figure I’m here, Moons?”

Remus stares; his face flares hotly. “I don't understand. Is there a—is there supposed to be a reason?”

“Oh, my—you actually don’t, do you? Oh my god. I’ve—I’ve been here three nights in a row, Moons. I don’t exactly come because it’s—comfortable,” Sirius says, softly, punctuating his point by nudging Remus with his knee. Two beds over, Peter grunts in his sleep. “You’re so fucking daft. Just—think about it, for a moment. Or…ask me what I’m thinking about. Go on.”

Remus obeys, of course—he’s always going to—and Sirius barely has to move his head to kiss him the way he does, then, before Remus has even finished asking. It's brave, careful, half-hidden beneath the duvet: a brush of noses. Sirius' mouth is cool like peppermint and Remus feels it even after, has to resist the giddy, ridiculous urge to touch his fingers to his lips. To the place where Sirius just—kissed him.

“That’s what I'm thinking about.” Sirius watches him, blasted little dent in his brow, and says, “that’s…that’s always been what, Moons. Fucking hell, I thought you knew. I thought you knew why I was here. You lovely idiot.”

“Oh,” he mumbles. Feels a bit stupid, now. Sirius starts to smile. “That’s—er. Right. That's good. Can I—can I change my answer?”

#ridi drabbles #r/s #my fic #the line about the beatles doodle is the best thing ive ever written. dead serious about that too #i dont know why this took me two days to write! it kinda sucks! words were just not coming to me this weekend!!#but there is a law somewhere i think that all r/s writers have to write a bed sharing scene so. a rite of passage to check off!!#liv tag #also getting more comfortable in remus pov : - ) my lovely boy his head isnt so bad. ive lived in there a bit now.#ive opened some windows ive cleaned ive decluttered. ive thrown away all the empty cereal boxes he had lying around etc etc

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applejongho · 3 years ago

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cherry on top | choi jongho

genre: fluff, realistic fiction, humor

character: starbucks employee!jongho

description: Jongho has an interesting run-in with a Karen during his shift at Starbucks.

word count: 2k

warnings: mild swearing

author’s note: jongho as a coffee barista was swimming in my mind for quite some time, so here he is.

masterlist here!

There was something about that coffee stain on Jongho's employee shirt that made it impossible to get rid of. It was likely the mix of the ingredients that had stacked the receipt when it was printed, but Jongho couldn't help but feel she had somehow planned this as he scrubbed harder with bleach.

Jongho wouldn't have guessed the day to turn out as it did, but maybe he should have. Working with the public was always a gamble, but Jongho's optimism blinded him. Most customers were nice enough. Most customers gave a smile when he handed them their overpriced coffee. There weren't too many comments about his red and black hair, and he could shrug off all of them. The compliments were what he remembered.

The day started off normally - with Jongho's coworkers nudging him towards the mound of bagged coffee beans. "I could do it myself, but you just do it quicker, you know?" One of his coworkers had whined, twirling a piece of curly hair around her finger. "It" was picking up the bags of coffee beans to put into the grinder, and Jongho didn't mind it. As he slung a bag over his shoulder with ease and glanced at her, he could swear her face flushed. Perhaps it was just the sun. The sun hit her face like that when he broke apples in half with his bare hands too. It was strange how the universe liked her like that.

After his bean tasks, Jongho took to the drive-thru of the coffee shop. He was told he had a nice voice, but he doubted he sounded that heavenly through a cheap speaker that hadn't been changed for five years. Nonetheless, Jongho enjoyed doing the drive-thru and taking orders. When there were multiple drive-thru lanes open, he would challenge his coworkers to see who could get through orders the fastest. This caused him and his coworkers to resent vans - vans almost always meant there was a large order - a sure loss, unless Jongho's fingers could learn to dance very quickly on the ordering screen.

Taking orders via the drive thru took up his morning, and then he was released for his lunch break. His coworkers had become accustomed to bringing him apples for the sole purpose of him to break them. He didn't mind, and it allowed him to be more comfortable with his coworkers because he could sometimes be shy. "Is that why part of your hair is red?" A coworker had asked him one day after he had broken multiple apples in a row. Jongho shook his head.

"No. Just red," he shrugged, ignoring his coworker's eyebrow raise. "I just like the color red." He thought he looked good with it.

But not everyone agreed - there were some customers that liked to point it out, like he had never seen himself in a reflection before. "You missed the roots," an older woman had told him at the register and gestured to his hair. Jongho added fifty cents to her order.

But for this day in particular, his hair was the reason for his downfall. For the latter half of the day, Jongho would be at the register. He yearned to be in the bar making drinks because it could become so mindless at points, but he was placed in front of the register before he could say anything. He assumed it was because he was the longest working employee out of the staff today, and Jongho vaguely remembered a newbie was working with him. He guessed the manager didn't want them at the register. The register wasn't much different than the drive thru, but there was something about actually seeing the customer or touching their cash or credit card that made it not enjoyable for Jongho.

About an hour into working at the register, Karen walked in. Jongho saw her and his stomach dropped. She looked exactly like a Karen should look: bobbed blonde hair with caramel highlights that were too dark, opaque and round sunglasses, an obnoxiously pink phone case, and a tacky red American flag shirt that said something about how America was blessed. Jongho knew he shouldn't judge people so quickly, but he had dealt with this breed of women before. He had to brace himself for the worst and the unexpected.

"Hello, ma'am," he said cheerfully when Karen got to the front of the line. Her dark sunglasses obscured her eyes, but she was clearly paying attention to her phone instead of him. She suddenly realized she was in Starbucks and lifted up her glasses. She took one look at Jongho's name tag.

"Hello, John," she said, and Jongho had to bite his tongue to keep from making a noise.

"Jongho," he said.

"John," she continued, and listed off her order, Jongho begrudgingly typing it in as she spoke. It's not that hard of a name, he thought to himself as he kept typing. Why was Karen's order so long? Jongho kept translating her vegan, dairy-free, blood-of-firstborn, extra-expresso venti iced coffee into the system until she stopped talking, and even then she wasn't done.

"So is everyone your age just dying their hair like that?" Karen said without prologue. "I'd never let my kid dye their hair like that. It's so unprofessional."

"Thank you," Jongho said, dodging the question and not wanting to provoke her. He hoped his cheeks weren't also red. "Here's your total. Cash or credit?"

Karen pulled out her purse, but not without clicking her tongue in annoyance. "You all really should lower the prices. It's too damn expensive."

Then make your own, Jongho wanted to reply, but he held his tongue. "I wish I could," he said with a smile. Karen frowned in return, and, without warning, dumped her entire coin bag onto the counter. Jongho yelped and scrambled to keep flying pennies and quarters from rolling off of the counter. In the corner of his eye, a coworker ogled Karen.

"I used the bills to buy my groceries, so I'll pay in coins," Karen yawned while Jongho threw himself onto the floor to make sure no coins had reached there. He got up, plastering on a fake smile. He hadn't had a customer like this in a long time, but if he could just get through her, everything would be okay. He reached for her quarters first and began counting dollars. He knew for a fact that his manager wouldn't have tolerated this kind of behavior from a customer, but Jongho knew he could be too soft at times. Besides, her jangling keys on her wrist glimmered and showed off their sharpness. He swore he saw her teeth glimmer as well.

"Hurry up," Karen said after a few seconds. "Count faster."

Jongho considered shoving pennies into her eyes. "Certainly," he said, and tried to pick up his pace. He could feel her eyes burning on his neck as he shoved the change into the cash register. He pushed her receipt over to her and eagerly began with the customer behind her, glad to be ridden of her.

But his escape was short lived. He heard a whine from the corner of the store and knew it was the Karen immediately. He was currently helping out a different customer, but there was no one else in line behind them. He'd deal with it after the customer if things escalated with Karen.

"Are you sure you made this correctly?" Karen snarled at Jongho's coworker, her nostrils flailing. The coworker looked like she wanted to sink into the floor. "This doesn't taste like how it usually does. Make it again."

Jongho wouldn't have done anything - customers asked for drinks to be remade frequently. But this was Karen, and upon further inspection, this was the new employee that his manager had talked about. He couldn't leave her hanging, it would be rude as an older and more experienced employee. Jongho finished ringing up the final customer and went over to Karen and the other coworker.

"Cherry head," Karen growled, and Jongho only raised his eyebrows. That was a new one.

"I'll make a new one, ma'am, sorry," he said, taking the drink from her. "I'm sure you were fine," he muttered to the worried coworker and was pleased to see her smile.

Iced coffee wasn't difficult, and with the lack of new customers Jongho took the time to make sure the drink was entirely accurate. It's not that she deserved a drink, it's that he wanted her out of the store as soon as possible. He even had the temperature right, and gave it a perfect dairy-free whipped cream swirl at the top before handing it back to her.

Karen ogled the drink for a moment, looking back and forth at the cup and Jongho. Then she threw the drink at him.

The whipped cream top hit Jongho square in the face and he could taste it. Then came the slow and cold trickle of the coffee down his apron and shirt underneath, and at that moment, he was so glad she hadn't ordered anything hot.

"I said I didn't want whipped cream!" Karen bellowed, but Jongho's choir practice had made him desensitized to loud vocals. He wiped the whipped cream from his face and looked at Karen straight in the eyes.

"Get out," he said coldly. "There's a Dunkin across the parking lot. They can have your coins." He paused for a moment, and then his mouth twitched upward. "My name is John, you can write me up if you want. I don't care."

"I will be," Karen growled, red-faced and clutching her purse at her side like Jongho was going to reach out and nab it. he couldn't believe Karen thought that she was the victim here when Jongho had a new fluffy white beard adorning his face.

"John's right," a third coworker said, coming from behind. He could vaguely hear his laugh under his voice. "We don't tolerate harassment on our employees. You're the one that could end up in trouble."

Karen stared daggers at this new employee, and Jongho was surprised she didn't jump over the counter to tackle him. "Good riddance, I knew Starbucks was going downhill anyway." She gave one last snarl at Jongho, who fluffed up his hair at her glance, before walking out of the Starbucks.

The three employees were silent, and then Jongho felt a towel touch his arm. "Oh my God, Jongho, I'm sorry," the third coworker said.

"I don't think I've ever been drenched quite as much as I am now," he said, accepting the towel. He began to dry himself off as best he could, but he knew his face and clothes were going to be sticky for the remainder of the shift.

"I think there's another apron in the back," the new coworker said, and then scurried off to get it before Jongho could say anything.

"I'm just glad it wasn't her that got absolutely wrecked by coffee," the other coworker murmured. "I think she might have cried."

Jongho nodded, still drying himself off. It was a terrible feeling, the coffee all over his skin and clothes, but now that she was gone, he couldn't help but smile. It was comical, how insane the public could be. "I hope John gets hell for what he did," he smiled.

"Absolutely," the coworker agreed, laughing. The new coworker arrived back with the apron, which Jongho gratefully took.

"Give me a minute to clean up," he told the both of them before going to the back to inspect the wreckage on his clothes and face. It could have been better, but it also could have been worse. He licked a part of the whipped cream that was near his lips and grimaced at the flavor. Despite it all, Jongho was amused at the situation. It kept him on his toes. It would be a funny story to share at a party. Jongho wrote a note in his phone to re-dye his red tips when he got home. Then, smiling, he returned to work.

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atzsslut · 4 years ago

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Bask In Your Scent | fluff

Florence, 2020 with Jung Yuno

fluff : (as a writer, fuck the pandemic i am not writing abt smiling thru a mask so this is no pandemic 2020!), PLS Y/N AND YUNO ARE PAINFULLY CLUELESS HERE, english-speaking, reader owns a candle shop / jaehyun (yuno) owns a flower shop, florence is slightly romanticized (but it is very beautiful), slow burn, mutual pining, etc. ♡ 5.43k words

Florence. The roofs were all tiled with brown ceramic, the rays of sun reflecting entirely over the mountain to the buildings so close by. In the morning, it was incredibly serene. The cobblestone streets sounded with taps from your feet walking over from your shop to the one beside you—something you did every time the clock hit 8:00 AM. Or something he did every 8:00 AM. Sometimes you two met in the middle.

Let alone in November, the sun still came up over the cold weather, perfectly blanketing the city with a slight warmth despite the temperature being below freezing. Romantic, and yet no ounce of love was ever proclaimed between the two of you. Not that it was faraway.

Looking up to the sky, past the beautiful architecture that vastly lingered in every inch of the city, you admired the moving clouds. It reminded you of his favorite colour; white. You watched him through the glass doors of his shop, which was a similar size to yours. Breathing out, you pushed the door open with one hand.

"Benvenuti!" was what you heard the second you came into the shop, the usual 'welcome' that the boy yelled whenever he listened to the bell on the glass door ring.

"Yuno," you chuckled, "It's just me."

"Oh? You're later than usual," he interjected, knowing that you usually came at 8:00 O'Clock on the dot (and it was 8:45), "Good morning."

He wasn't looking to the door, as he was prepping a pot behind the counter, back facing the storefront. Typically, when you did come into the shop, Yuno was looking ahead and greeted you with a smile. His hair was a mess this time, and his apron, much more than usual, was dirtied with soil and water.

You were busy packing up the big order you had gotten to make hundreds of taper candles, hence your tardiness. Going to visit each other in the morning was something like brushing your teeth, normalized and constant; you both couldn't go without it.

"Are you busy? I can come back later," you suggested, holding the door, prepared to go out if you were a burden to him, "Because..."

He could tell that you were implying to his unkempt appearance. Yuno had gotten a last-minute order a week ago to prepare over a hundred small bouquets for a wedding ceremony. Since he owned the flower shop alone, he had stayed up to finish everything before the time due. Luckily for Yuno, you had come when he was doing the last one.

"No, no," he quickly denied, "Please, come in."

Shifting your feet, you closed the door and took gradual steps up to the counter where Yuno was, the shop relatively spacious as it was distributed with bloomed flowers and packaged seeds. Compared to your shop, Yuno's was just a tad brighter and looked the most beautiful during the day. As for you, yours looked mesmerizing when dawn came, the candles you made lighting the store.

Yuno had always relished your presence, even if it meant that he'd lose a few minutes from his morning to plant in the garden out back or prep flowers. Unbeknownst to one another, the redamancy you both had for each other was visible through the small acts done on a day-by-day basis.

Often enough, Yuno had provided you with flowers that were left over so you could make scented extracts and decoration for your candles. You were eternally grateful to him, as your candles wouldn't look as pretty as they did without his offerings. As for you to Yuno, you were the reason he never had a single plant put to waste, and you knew all of the best patisseries around. More than enough times, you'd brought him a different kind of pastry in the morning to wake him up.

Was it gratitude, or was it merely because two shop owners were all too scared to face their feelings?

"So, what do you have to do today?" you asked, pacing around the counter, never not in awe by how messily the flowers were organized, yet how lovely it was. Much to say the least, it was very Yuno-esque. Disordered yet still admirable.

"I have to drive these to the wedding in Villa Cora. You?"

"Wait, actually? You're going to Villa Cora?"

Yuno furrowed his eyebrows, not knowing that you had any business there as well. It seemed that the daily conversations you two had passed the topic of going to the same destination, both for different reasons, yet on the same day.

"Yeah, a hundred bouquets I told you about, those are for a wedding there."

"They hired me to make candles for their decor. I need to send it to them today by 10:00 AM. What time do you need to go?"

"When you came in, I was finishing up the last bouquet. And I've gotta be there pretty soon, by 9:30." Yuno said, hiding the fact of him having to be there the same time as you was bringing him some joy, "Would.. you like me to drive you there?"

"You want to go together?" it felt like rhetoric more than anything since you were well aware that the answer was 'yes.'

"Yes." Yuno was always poised about asking you things that seemed romantic or doing acts of service that could possibly be his love language, but you two had been each other's 'comfort people' for so long that it was impossible to tell.

"Besides, a little bit of company in the front seat never hurt anybody." Mostly if it was you, Yuno thought.

There was this charm about Yuno that always managed to fill the whole room. Despite his face, which was too handsome for you not to be caught staring, Yuno had a personality that matched yours like a puzzle. No, he wasn't perfect, and nor were you, but it was accepting that everything about him couldn't always be as poise as his appearance was how you fell for him. And him to you.

There were one too many favors that you both have done for one another that seemed to parallel. You both would come running to each other's shops if Yuno were to prick his finger with a thorn, or if you were to burn yours from hot wax. You both would be each other's noses when the other was having the flu to check if the flowers were right or if the extract in the candle wasn't pungent enough.

It seemed that your game of Tom & Jerry to gain each other's love continued to go on, albeit you two were already in love. Only painfully unaware of each other's doting.

"I just need to go upstairs first and change," Yuno said as he struggled to take his apron off. For the past three days, he barely took it off, and it seemed the knot tightened.

"Yu-" you bit your lip to hide your unmistakable laugh, "Yuno, come around here. I'll help you."

Hesitant, his footsteps were heavy on the ground, eyes refusing to look at yours as he walked to where you were. Since he was taller than you, whether it was by a lot or not, your hands went above eye-level to untie the knot.

He smelt of pure earth mixed with the slight fragrance of white roses and baby's breath flowers, but it was the pollen stuck in his hair that made your lips go from ear to ear. Adorable, you thought, seeing the little dots of yellow litter his dark hair.

Managing to untie the knot from both the neck and the waist tie, you tapped his shoulders to signal that you were done. Spinning his body 180 degrees, his eyes met with yours, and your breath hitched. Your eyes blinked profusely, shocked at the sudden gaze.

But it seemed impulsive when Yuno breathed in, taking in a scent that he never usually associated with you. Whenever you came into the shop, he never failed to pick up the signature scent that lingered whenever you were around; eucalyptus and chamomile. Yet somehow, this time around, you seemed to smell like nutmeg and neroli, maybe cinnamon too.

"Did..." he was reluctant to ask, in the fear he'd seem peculiar, "Did you get a new perfume?"

You were surprised by his question, shellshocked that he even noticed how the new concoctions you were making for your ordered candles completely overpowered your routine perfume. You tried to hold back the urge to grin, your teeth showing as you failed to do so.

"For the Villa Cora order," you welled up to him, "I guess what they asked for was rather strong. I'm... surprised you even noticed."

"It's like when you're used to seeing something every day. When it's not there and out of your site, you question its absence. It was odd for me to not get a routinely whiff of your usual perfume, Y/N." he admitted, only making you feel more lauded than before.

"Oh." was all you could spit out before Yuno awkwardly cleared his throat and wiped his hands on his apron.

He gestured towards the door behind the cashier, where the stairs that led up to his room were. The same structure adorned your shop, where the door behind the counter would lead to your home. Small, but nowhere near worn.

At this point, Yuno wasn't necessarily sure if his house was simply everything he asked for, or he was able to make it through with you around.

Not wanting to make you wait any longer, he ran up the stairs to rush to his room (to which you had heard every rushed stride, not that he knew). Indeed, you thought, a gentleman. Sometimes, Yuno gave you your daily dose of comedic relief, his actions bringing a laugh out of you until your stomach hurt. You wondered, does he feel the same?

Does she feel the same? He wondered the equivalent, this time as he was picking out which sweater to use this cold November. Since the one he was wearing previously was dirtied, despite his apron.

Yuno always wondered if it were a fate that brought you two together in Florence. He remembered the first day that he had gotten there two and a half years ago, the shop that remained vacant up until his moving boxes filled the room. The cost of living wasn't as expensive as he predicted, but he needed many things to change.

Unlike Connecticut and Seoul, Florence was just about perfect for allowing flowers to continually bloom. If it was too sunny, the architecture had a form of protection. Even if the weather changed, another plant species would simply replace another, filling Yuno's shop with a new flower.

As for you, you got there a week before Yuno did, your shop already entirely set from the way the candles were displayed at the storefront. Intrigued, he stepped into the shop to find you behind the cashier, only for you to be his only fluent friend in English. He had asked you why you kept all the candles in black glass, leading to a conversation that went on for three hours about flowers and candles.

To say the least, there was much more in common than what met the eye.

Since then, you two have always just been intertwined. Whether it was an invisible red string of fate, the reality was that destiny might be real for the two of you. If and when the love is proclaimed, that is.

Throwing his apron towards his bed, which then became dirty (assuming it wasn't already), he picked out a sweater in peach. Putting it on over his head, Yuno walked over to his bathroom and kicked the door open with his foot. Looking in the mirror, he took his chain out of the under of his sweater to make it visible, pushing his bangs back to fix his hair.

He looked at the time, seeing that it was precisely 9:00 AM already. A string of curses followed along his lips as he ran to his closet once again, grabbing his coat. Rushing downstairs, the same way he did before going upstairs, he was now met with you in a coat and a few other boxes.

He guessed that through the time he was upstairs, you'd grabbed your packages next door to not waste any more time. It was a good thing that he had loaded all except one of his boxes the night before, as he finished the last bouquet this morning.

"Ready to go, Jung?" you teased, using his last name to provoke him.

Yuno took his car keys from the drawer with a nod, clicking the button that turned on the truck outside. Packing in his last bouquet, you went ahead to the vehicle as you opened the door with your back while carrying one of the boxes you had. Setting it down on the street for a short second, you opened the trunk and placed the first one inside.

You weren't surprised by the numerous crates that were already inside the truck, knowing that Yuno didn't often get big orders, but when he did, it was the ones that caused the skin around his eyes to whither. The same went for you, most of the time having customers loyal to your shop rather than commercial purchases.

You still had about four boxes left to stuff into the trunk, absolutely exhausted from the constant melting and molding you had to do for taper candles. Much to your surprise, Yuno was carrying his own crate while carrying two of your boxes.

Racing over to him, you scolded him for doing that, knowing that a large number of candles carried substantial weight. He argued that he could do it, but you rebutted back, saying that it didn't matter. As you quickly finished packing up the things, shutting the back with a loud noise, you both got into the front seats by 9:05, driving away as the engine turned on.

"Did you stay up all night last night?" you broke the silence, fiddling with your bag that was on your lap.

"Yeah," his eyes didn't leave the road as he spoke, determined to drive exceptionally well in your presence, "Didn't you too?"

"Only to fill in the last batch into the molds. Meanwhile, you had to assemble all those flowers into those glass pots. Please tell me that you didn't break any."

"How... how did..." he remembered that you were his next-door neighbour in a way, and you had a knack of staying up late too. More or less, the chances of you hearing him accidentally break glass was heard.

"Yeah. How many did you break?" there was a slight pause, making you sigh out, "Be honest."

"Two..." he admitted, his gaze sticking to the road, not even sparing a glance at you out of embarrassment. You knew him so well.

There was a brief stillness before you began to laugh, trying not to as you clasped your hands on your mouth, mumbling out apologies in between each sound from amusement.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Is my suffering funny to you?"

"Yeah!" you said in between gasps of air.

"Y/N, don't make me talk about the time you were too impatient for the purple-coloured lavender wax to cool, and you ended up overheating the glass, and it broke."

"Hey!" you resisted, "At least it was ONE glass. It wasn't TWO like you did."

"Okay, but it takes a lot to break the thick glass you use for candles. Please Y/N, there is no argument here." Yuno glimpsed at the GPS, "Oh, we're almost there."

"What are you on about?" you giggled, "There is so much room for argument here, especially if we're talking about mishaps. I may be caught off guard sometimes, but no one can match how clumsy you are, Yuno."

"Well," he spoke as he took the turn up the hill to Villa Cora, "I cannot count the number of times I've seen you through my window, tripping on the cobblestone."

Although you were embarrassed, it was humorous that maybe you were more clumsy than you anticipated. Knowing well that Yuno was somebody who didn't only see the good sides of you, and yet he didn't judge you for them, it never failed to astonish you. After knowing him for quite a while, you knew that although Yuno was patient, he also had a side where frustration could take him over.

You've seen him angry, comforted him through sadness, and you've never thought of him as a bad person- not even once. You remembered when he snubbed you for the first time, finding out that you had gone on a date with the waiter who worked in a restaurant nearby. No, he wasn't mean or harsh, but the cold impression he left on you for a few days made you question his motives.

But you let it pass since you only said yes to the waiter because you wanted to stop thinking about Yuno. You always thought (and so did he), why risk ruining a dynamic that was already well set in stone?

"Are you going from the back too? I think that's where they collect mass orders," you asked, not knowing if Yuno would be going from the back towards the wedding's area.

"I'm going from the east entrance, straight to the venue." he answered, going straight to where you needed to be, "But, I'm pretty sure you'll need some help with those boxes, and I'll need help with the bouquets. We'll drop off yours first, then go to mine."

"Ooh! Smart, smart." you acknowledged, liking the fact you wouldn't be separated from Yuno at Villa Cora.

"As if I have ever been stupid." Yuno bickered.

"Mhm." you sarcastically agreed, unbuckling the seatbelt at the same time as him to get out of the truck.

Heading to the trunk, Yuno opened it and helped you take your things into the villa. After chattering about with the stock manager, who checked the boxes and assured everything was safe, you two were then given clear instructions on how to get to the wedding venue.

In the short drive there, you told Yuno how satisfied you felt to drop off the hundreds of taper candles you had made in a short period, not being able to count the number of times you had to put a pain relief patch on your neck from crouching too much.

"Yuno, it's fine," you said sternly, assuring that hard work came with a bit of pain, "I'm used to it, you know that-"

"Woah." you both said in unison, looking at how the venue looked from the outside. It seemed that Yuno's bouquets were the finishing touches, as everything was mostly set already. Like the colour of the flowers he had chosen, the decorations were white and gold, with a few turquoise touches.

Elegant and enchanting was how you could explain it.

You've always had a complicated relationship with weddings. You didn't know if you loved or hated them. You questioned the concept of loving somebody so much that the law had to be involved. Why couldn't the universe just let love be love and not need a marriage's social construct? Or registering your names into city hall to proclaim the marriage?

But at the same time, with the weddings you had gone to (which was your aunt's third wedding, your older brother's, and your eldest cousin), you were not in awe by the beauty of them.

And you've always had dreams of saying those "I do's" or vows with tears streaming down your face, your face not beaming from them but from your eternal happiness to be bound to the person who's it.

But as you were lost thought about weddings, it seemed that your body had acted on its own when you realized that Yuno had settled all the crates. You two were already in the venue, Yuno greeting the bride who apparently was friends with one of his friends.

"I really didn't know that!" Yuno exclaimed, "Oh, excuse me. This is my... friend, Y/N. She works at a candle shop beside me and just dropped off an order for the villa."

You always liked it when Yuno spoke Italian. Anyone in the world could say Spanish or French were the two most romantic languages, but you would oppose. When Yuno began to speak in the language you had to learn before coming to Florence, you began to feel lightheaded hearing how he sounded.

All too attractive for you to take in.

"Y/N! It's nice to meet you, I'm Sofia. I'm the bride for today's wedding!"

"It's very nice to meet you too. Everything is so beautiful," you then faced Sofia after looking around and shaking her hand, "You look wonderful."

"Thank you. Yuno tells me that you make candles. When my house is settled, and I come back from my honeymoon, I will definitely call you."

"Of course, I'd love to satisfy a new customer." you then looked at Yuno, who was standing by your left side, "Should we take care of the glass bouquets now?"

"Oh, of course, of course." he said, "Sofia, we'll set them up then leave right after. You said that the guests are coming soon?"

"What? You two don't have to leave so fast!" she exclaimed, "Some of my family members from another town suddenly can't come. I have a table that you two can settle in. Please, I insist."

You took a glance at yourself by facing down to your clothes, questioning if they were appropriate. Sofia argued that they were and said that it didn't matter. Although the wedding was set very extravagantly, she explained that her family came from "humble beginnings" and that they wouldn't care.

As time went on, you two were almost done setting all of the small glass pots, one on the center of each table. They were simple, but it made you happy to see a bit of Yuno in a grand place you couldn't believe was real. Associating white with the colour of Heaven was right when it could be used to define Yuno.

After all, he was your paradise.

"You did a great job, Yuno," you admitted, walking beside him to the table that Sofia had said was for you two, "Everything goes so well together, and you worked so hard."

"Thank you." the porcelain skin of his face, reddened, "And thank you to you for accompanying me."

"You should never say thank you when I'm around. The things I do aren't for 'thank you's. I do them because I want to." you shrugged, "Besides, spending time with you like this is nice."

"You don't get too tired of seeing me everyday?"

"No, of course not. I'm surprised you're not tired of seeing ME-"

"I would never be," he answered too quickly. He knew because he noticed, and by the way you looked at him with widened eyes told him so. Clearing his throat, hand scratching the back of his neck, Yuno then looked at you.

"I.. uh.." you paced awkwardly. You then saw people begin to fill the room, giving you an excuse, "I need to go to the bathroom and freshen up. I'll be right back. Okay?"

"Okay," he answered, his eyes not leaving you until you were out of his sight, "Fuck."

He muttered to himself swears, confused on why he had to be painfully apparent on today of all days. He was relieved to some extent that you weren't nonchalant and cold, but he also questioned certain things you said that could stay on his mind for hours.

Him not having to give thanks to you, you admitting you loved the time you spent with him, all those things lead to his question now; Are we just friends, or have we ever been since the first time we met?

Friends don't love him like you do.

Friends don't treat him like you do.

Friends, it was something you both didn't want to be. And it was clear. Yuno, not defeated but wearied from all the uncertainty, sighing in the wooden chair provided at the venue. You, washing your face with cold water in the villa bathroom, taking a breath in to realize that he had hesitated when he introduced you as just his 'friend.'

The night went on, admiring Yuno's bouquets displayed at the center of the round tables throughout the tall-ceiling room. You gave yourself some time when people started to come in to clean yourself up, not that you weren't well put already, but you were the only lady in casual wear. You felt a little bit shy, seeing the little kids who were in fancy, glittering dresses that made your nicely knit creme sweater to look shabby.

When you got back to Yuno, he was sat at the table alone, admiring the decorations on the walls. You couldn't help but let the fondness you had for him take over your expression. Although he was a simple man, he loved paying attention to the details that surrounded him. Even if that meant using a different sized chain for different types of clothing, his consideration of those kinds of things made him better.

Before he noticed you were there, you took the time to look around, which then automatically made you look forward towards the dance floor. Nearly all of the seats were empty, and crowds, as the bride and groom were dancing the center, had filled the space with excitement.

Your eyes drifted back then to Yuno, who had now noticed that you were back from the bathroom. He had his elbow on the seat, looking back at you with his signature smile. You didn't know what it was, maybe it was the flare from all the lights or the pollen that was previously stuck in his hair, but it seemed that golden specks were beginning to circle around him.

Your chest tightened as you silently came up to him, not knowing exactly what you were doing. Your body was impulsively moving on its own when you opened your palm to him and asked,

"Would you care for a dance?"

Your tone came off more as a joke, but you meant it all the same. It shouldn't be weird, right? You thought, this is what friends do. He stood up, taking your hand in his, immediately moving with a groove to the upbeat song. No, this doesn't seem weird at all, you thought again, as he waved your arms around with his.

Goofing around as if no one was looking, not that they were, this was the most fun you had had in weeks. Not that the mornings you spent with Yuno weren't lovely enough, or the time you met up with your friends wasn't great, but it seemed that both you and Yuno never got to spend a moment like this.

But as you two had your fun, every moment you two spent with each other got more and more agonizing. The uncertainty of seemingly never knowing that you two were absolutely in love with each other was consuming.

But tonight was different.

Tonight, when the MC announced the next song to be slow, both you and Yuno were breathless as you both had sat down for a break. In unison, you both looked towards the speakers when it began to play James Blake's rendition of 'The First Time I Ever Saw Your Face.'

"I love this song," you whispered. It reminded you of when you first met Yuno, coming into your shop with surface knowledge about Florence.

"Me too," he said back, your gaze meeting his.

Standing up once again, this time offering your hand in a more careful manner than before. For a bit of time, just for a bit, Yuno stared at your hand in doubt.

He didn't doubt that he wanted to dance with you because, God, you were the only person he'd like to dance to this song with. But wanted to know if this was real.

With your hand in his, as he took it, it seemed a bit odd at first. It was different from all the times you had touched his hand to bandage a small wound from a few rose thorns, and it was different from when you invited him to dance before. Unlike then, it felt more still. More intimate.

You only then noticed that it was just the two of you, not on the dance floor, near the end of the tables. Even the children were dancing with their parents, staying put to space. As it was a wedding, the focus was on the bride and groom. Barely any light emitted on you two, only the orange-toned lamps screwed into the wall structures being the only source of light.

Dark, yet it felt like home. Filled with warmth and reassurance.

Yuno spun your body with his hand, giggling when you dizzily caught yourself on his chest. Your right hand feeling the material of his sweater, the other hand interlaced with his. It seemed that the fun had faded, but not happiness. Nothing was heard from either of you except for the faltering breaths that both you and him let out.

As you tried to somewhat space yourself away from his chest, Yuno let go of your left hand and instead snaked his arm around your waist. Although much doubt came into his head if it was appropriate to do, he could tell that you weren't pulling away any time soon.

Maybe, if he was right, that meant something.

Unlike before, you had given up on separating yourself from him, laying your head against his chest. Now that your left hand had been let go off, it trembled as you brought it to his shoulder.

A surge suddenly ran through the both of you when the tips of your fingers accidentally brushed against the bare skin of his neck. It wasn't much, but you tried to blame it on his warm skin and your cold fingers. Knowing that wasn't true, you let out a shaky breath from your nostrils.

You felt like you wanted to cry when Yuno placed his chin on the top of your head, cupping your right hand in his. Once again, the same feeling came about when your skin touched his.

Something as simple as skin touching skin managed to make your heart palpitate, thankful he couldn't hear it. But as he couldn't listen to yours, you could listen to his. With your head against his chest, facing your intertwined hand in his, you counted the beats.

One-two ... one-two ... one-two ...

One-two .. one-two .. one-two.

It sped up, you thought. It made you wonder if you were making Yuno nervous; if you've ever made him nervous like this before. Maybe there was a reason you two never spent any nights together, often seeing each other in daylight that this was new.

New yet inviting.

"Do you hate it?" Yuno suddenly asked, feeling the vibrations against the shell of your ear when he spoke from his chest.

"Hate what?" you asked, not knowing what he was implying.

"This." he said, "Us."

You pulled away from him. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with questions, hope, anything, and everything, including love. Again, the same feeling of wanting to cry washed over you. You weren't disgusted, miserable, or disappointed. In the rare case that you were feeling one too many things, it seemed that you wanted to shed tears of joy.

This was it. You thought, He's it.

Is this it? He asked himself, Will she finally understand?

Your nose twitched, holding back with whatever strength you had left. For a split second, you averted your eyes to the crowd, then back to Yuno. The people’s appreances, the bride’s primarily, the venue, the flowers he had used, and they were all beautiful.

But at this moment, the two of you were the defining image of passion at a wedding that wasn't even yours.

Using a tone a tad higher than your usual voice, due to your attempt to not cry, you gave him the answer he had been waiting for two years. Well, not only him, but it was for both of you. For the sake that God, or whoever, whatever controlled the universe would finally let out a sigh of satisfaction when you answered,

"I could get used to this."

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catthecoder · 4 years ago

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tag game - get to know me

tagged by the awesome @orangenfrottee - thank you, i haven’t done one of these in ages and these questions sound like so much fun! 💕

1. what is the color of your hairbrush? it’s grey on the back with black handle

2. name a food you never eat - hmm, i used to be such a picky eater but i recently slowly started eating a lot of food i used to despise... if you asked me a few months ago, i could write up a rather long list, but right now? the only thing that comes to mind are picked cucumbers 😬

3. are you typically too warm or too cold? too cold, 100%. somehow, my body stays cold even when it is like 30 degrees, which is hella weird.

4. what were you doing 45 minutes ago? eating lunch! i made bagels with ricotta, ham, cheese, egg and avocado and i had a couple of baby cucumbers along with it (mind you, not pickled ones) and it was super delicious.

5. what’s your favorite candy bar? i think twix is my favourite? or perhaps this slovak bar called ‘horalky’, which is basically wafers with peanut filling and sides dipped in chocolate... god, now i want one so desperately.

6. have you ever been to a professional sports game? i used to watch hockey a lot and i’ve been to a couple of games.

7. what is the last thing you said out loud? huh, i think it was my order when i went for coffee a couple of hours ago? (i got a latte and a piece of apple crumble cake, in case anybody’s wondering)

8. what is your favorite ice cream? i could eat ben&jerry every day, so it’s probably their ‘half baked’ or ‘phish food’. also, i’d die for a good mango sorbet.

9. what was the last thing you had to drink? plain old water

10. do you like your wallet? i like how small and practical it is..... i’m trying to recall the last time i actually took it out of my backpack and i’m coming very short.

11. what is the last thing you ate? the bagels from question 4!

12. did you buy any new clothes last weekend? i bought a pair of new masks last thursday and they arrived on monday - does that count?

13. what’s the last sporting event you watched? haha, does the bake off count as a sporting event? if not, i think it would be some skiing competitions (slalom) last winter - my parents follow them rather closely and it kind of rubs off on me when i’m home with them.

14. what is your favorite flavor of popcorn? salty mixed with sweet!

15. who is the last person you sent a text message to? my boyfriend.

16. ever been camping? does setting up a tent in friend’s backyard and sleeping there count? if so, then yes.

17. do you take vitamins? not really... i sometimes take c during autumn for immunity, but i haven’t bought any this year so far... oh, i am taking probiotics right now, though i’m not sure whether that counts as vitamins.

18. do you regularly attend a place of worship? no.

19. do you have a tan? no, if i try to tan, i just turn pink (or red). though i’m pretty sure my skin is marginally lighter underneath where i wear my watch.

20. do you prefer Chinese or pizza? if going out, pizza; if i’m cooking, chinese.

21. do you drink your soda through a straw? if there’s ice in it, then yes; otherwise, i tend to skip the straw.

22. what color socks do you usually wear? black or white.

23. do you ever drive above the speed limit? gonna be honest and say yes. not by crazy amounts or anything like that, but if i know the road and i can see quite far around and ahead, i will go 10ish% above the limit easily. not gonna lie, it’s especially easy on highways (though i nearly got fined last time i drove, so who knows how i’ll feel about it the next i’ll sit behind the wheel)

24. what terrifies you? haha, like i’m going to share that.

25. look to your left, what do you see? a shelf with alcohol bottles, glasses that don’t fit into our kitchen cabinet, an assortment of cameras and other photography equipment and a scanner. oh, and a window.

26. what chore do you hate most? taking out our organic waste bin - it starts smelling very bad very quickly plus the bin for it downstairs hadn’t been taken out in a very long time and it’s always covered by fruit flies and smells veeeery bad and i’m feeling yucky just thinking about it.

27. what do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? i think - hah, that person is australian, how cool.

28. what’s your favorite soda? i love san pellegrino. limonata is my go to, but i recently had lemon & mint and my god, that one is amazing.

29. do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive thru? i go in, even if i drove there - i don’t like eating in my car.

30. what’s your favorite number? i’ve always had a special connection to number three, so let’s go with that.

31. who’s the last person you talked to? depends on what you mean by talked to - actually spoke to, with my voice? the bartender at my favourite coffee shop. had a meaningful conversation? probably with a customer service employee who’s helping me resolve an issue. just chatted to, without much of a point? my boyfriend.

32. favorite meat? hmm, probably ham?

33. last song you listened to? i’m currently listening to ‘cigarette daydreams’ by ‘cage the elephant’, though that’s going to change in a minute and half.

34. last book you read? ‘renegades’ by marissa meyer! it was so. good! i started the second book, ‘archnemesis’ yesterday and i’m even more in love. 100% recommend if you’re into superhero stories with secret identities and enemies-to-friends(-to-lovers). such an amazing series.

35. favorite day of the week? what even are days?

36. can you say the alphabet backwards? only crazy people can.

37. how do you like your coffee? oat latte with a bit of honey.

38. favorite pair of shoes? i own way too many shoes to be able to pick a single favourite pair.

39. time you normally get up? between 8:30 and 9:00.

40. what do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? sunsets.

41. how many blankets are on your bed? none. there is one on the couch though.

42. describe your kitchen plates? we found this kitchen set in tesco after eating from paper plates for at least a week after moving in - there are four bowls, four small plates and four big plates (a year layer, we found two extra big bowls matching our set) - the bowls are grey from outside and white on the inside; the small plates are grey on the top and white on the bottom and the big plates are white on top and grey on bottom.

43. describe your kitchen at the moment: very small - a third of it is a stove (with two heating pads? circles? whatever), another third is a sink and the last third is workspace with a small shelf for spices, cutlery etc, and a cutting board and knives stand. most of the workspace is taken up by a cutting board i used to cut avocado and cucumbers for lunch and there is a tiny pan (and i mean really tiny, like one egg sized) leftover on the stove. i’m probably going to do the dishes after i finish answering these.

44. do you have a favorite alcoholic drink? i’m not that picky, i’ll drink almost anything. i think i prefer fruity drinks though - i really like french martini or sex on the beach.

45. do you play cards? we used to play cards a lot with my parents and sister (and grandparents as well) - i love playing canasta, but you need four people for that, so i haven’t actually played in months... we also played a lot of joker and i taught my boyfriend to play this summer (not that he didn’t know how to play, he just wasn’t particularly good)... and we also play poker with a couple of our friends here from time to time

46. what color is your car? this is going to sound so bad, but i am actual not sure? we ended up finding quite a good deal on a car we wanted to get after uni, so we bought it - however, it is back in slovakia and both me and my boyfriend are stuck in uk right now. it’s either black or very dark blue, but for the love of my life, i can’t remember and the photos i found weren’t helpful at. all. (if it weren’t for covid, i’d be able to answer this question a lot better). oh, and the car i had before (my mom’s old car) is red.

47. can you change a tire? i like to think i’d be able to (after enough googling and youtube videos), but if there was somebody else with me, i’d gladly let them do it.

48. your favorite state or province? like in usa or what? i guess new york.

49. favorite job you’ve had? i don’t think i’ve particularly enjoyed any of the jobs i had so far - if i had to pick, i’d say working in an ice-cream shop, because if there is one thing that could make work during a very hot summer even slightly bearable, it’s the fact that every so often, you can nibble on a bit of an ice-cream.

i’m tagging @stonerbughead @strangenightsofdaydreams and @i-know-you-can - i know there is like 50 questions and that’s a lot, but they were actually a lot of fun?

#tag game #i haven't done one of these in so long #and i really enjoyed most of these questions!

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gwenastor · 4 years ago

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her full name is alaia kaplan, but she sometimes goes by n/a. caucasian cisgender female, twenty-seven years of age, with she / her pronouns. she was last seen working at the phoenix as a bartender and a soldier for valencia's street level sector. ( @redridgeimp )

❝ I AM FIRE. IF YOU WANT SOMETHING SWEET, WITH NO OPINION, I AM NOT THE WOMAN FOR YOU. I SPIT FLAMES, OFTEN. ❞

⇨ aesthetics ⍮ deft fingers stained with charcoal and oil paint, the melodic chime of piano keys, delicate digits adorned with moonstone gem rings, a coy smile spread across full crimson lips, long chestnut locks blowing in the cool breeze of a summer’s evening, battered books with dog-eared pages, the silvery glint of old scar tissue, ripped leather jackets and worn jeans, & blades concealed inside combat boots.

BONJOURNO. it me, chrissie, back at it again with a second muse. this gal right here is my fiery sassball alaia. she’s been thru some shit n has seen some shit so expect tons of sarcasm and attitude tbh, oop. once again, you know the drill, show this some luv n i’ll come pester you for plots : )

FUNDAMENTALS.

full name. alaia saphira kaplan.

current age. twenty-seven.

birthday. january twenty-seventh.

gender. cisgender female.

pronouns. she / her.

nationality. turkish.

religion. islam.

hometown. sivas, turkey.

past residence. manhattan, new york city, united states.

current residence. red ridge, nevada, united states.

sexual orientation. bisexual.

romantic orientation. demiromantic.

education. high school graduate.

occupation. soldier for valencia, & bartender at the phoenix.

CONNECTIONS.

birth mother. emel kaplan. †

birth father. kamâl kaplan.

step-mother. cemile kaplan.

full blood siblings. none.

step-siblings. none.

maternal grandmother. unknown.

maternal grandfather. unknown.

paternal grandmother. esrin kaplan. †

paternal grandfather. omer kaplan. †

maternal aunts. unknown.

maternal uncles. unknown.

paternal aunts. bahar kaplan.

paternal uncles. none.

PROFICIENCIES.

spoken languages. english, & turkish.

negative traits. capricious, ornery, brusque, reckless, & deceptive.

positive traits. ardent, resilient, independent, determined, & courageous.

strengths. etiquette, bold, rational, practical, original, perceptive, direct, & sociable.

weaknesses. dramatic, impulsive, quick-tempered, insensitive, impatient, risk-prone, unstructured, misses the bigger picture, & defiant.

skills. skilled with blades and various knives, hand-to-hand combat, perception, persuasiveness, good judgment, & able to use initiative.

talents. piano, retaining information, memory recall, knife throwing, & quick thinking.

APPEARANCE.

eye colour. light brown with amber flecks.

hair colour. natural, chestnut brown.

height. five feet, eight inches.

weight. 52 kg.

build. she is considered tall for a female and is of slender stature with mild curves.

dress size. uk size eight / us size four.

shoe size. uk size five and a half / us size six.

scars. a long, silvery one running along half her spine.

tattoos. none.

piercings. one on each earlobe.

prominent feature. wide, dark eyes.

MISCELLANEOUS.

zodiac. aquarius.

element. air.

house. ravenclaw.

myers briggs type. estp-t.

alignment. chaotic good.

enneagram. type seven.

temperament. sanguine.

intelligence type. interpersonal.

character label. the orphic.

past mental disorders. depression.

current mental disorders. depressive episodes.

addictions. cocaine.

vices. lust, wrath, & pride.

virtues. temperance, diligence, & patience.

allergies. peanuts.

diet. vegan.

accent. mostly turkish with a slight american twang.

dominant hand. right.

blood type. b negative.

felonies. none.

vehicle. bottle green 2015 volkswagen beetle.

BACKGROUND.

trigger warnings. implied child abuse, implied child neglect, implied alcoholism, implied violence, a brief mention of adultery, a mention of verbal abuse, mention of death, implied depression, & a brief mention of drugs.

[ tw ; implied child abuse, & neglect. ] Born into a world of devastation and loss, Alaia Kaplan's arrival into this universe was far from being a tranquil one. Instead of the welcoming arms and loving smile of her mother, the first sight the innocent girl witnessed was the weeping of her father. It wasn’t long until his tears eventually turned into angry fists and hatred shining in dark eyes. This was the only form of her father that Alaia knew, the only element of him that she could recall. From the instant she was old enough to figure it out, she knew that her father despised her. She knew that he blamed her for the death of his wife. Regardless of her upbringing, Alaia had remained optimistic and bright; both incredibly intelligent and adept. She was able to captivate others with both her appearance and her capabilities. Those in her company hung off her every word, often discovering themselves enthralled by a charming and sincere young girl. Regardless of her father's secured position within their community, she never looked for more than his approval and his affection. Though neither she ever received.

[ tw ; mentions of alcoholism, infidelity / adultery, & verbal abuse. ] Within the span of ten years, Alaia's father had found himself in the clutches of a bitter yet wealthy woman of upper-class. Soon, this woman became Alaia's stepmother and things only plunged further south afterwards. The woman drank copious amounts of liquor, ran around behind her husbands back, verbally abused Alaia and the list went on. She managed to manipulate her husband, able to further demolish any semblance of a relationship Alaia shared with her distant father. During this time, and within the blink of an eye, the girl turned hostile and indifferent. It was as if she had transformed into a polar opposite version of what she’d always been; metamorphosing into an alternate version of her former self. Once an upbeat and positive child, she became cold, less vibrant; void of both emotion and interest. She picked fights with her stepmother for the sheer kick she got out of it, rebelled against her father and found her once soft heart hardening as a result of years of enduring torment at the hands of her legal guardians.

[ tw ; mention of death, & implied depression. ] It wasn't long until Alaia was shipped off to live with her grandmother and aunt in the Turkish countryside. At first, it had taken the girl quite a while to adjust, to slowly convert into a portion of the person she was as a child. Alaia's adolescent years were a stark contrast to her life with her father. She was respected, admired and genuinely loved. Throughout the duration of her time there, Alaia was homeschooled, taught how to play various instruments, and how to speak multiple languages. She attended ballet lessons, joined art classes, held a strong passion for Literature. However, as all good things do, they come to an end. In Alaia's case, those few blissful years reached a rather abrupt cessation, taking a drastic plummet into darkness. She was eighteen when her grandmother passed away. As a result, Alaia lost control of herself and of her path in life. She spent weeks alone and aimless, wavering on her tracks. It wasn't until she and her aunt moved to New York City that Alaia's life began to turn around one more.

Back home, her aunt had been involved in the diamond industry, ensuring the quality and legitimacy of each rock she was handed. She'd allowed Alaia to shadow her, to study her methodology, and to assist under her direction. It was through this outlet that Alaia grasped the concept of gemology. Of how to examine precious stones and how to value them accordingly. It was a field that the brunette became extremely interested in and equally as intrigued by. Ultimately, in the end, the girl opted to pursue a temporary career in the jewellery business. It was during this period that a then twenty-one-year-old Alaia was approached by a member of a wealthy family, the type of wealth one gained by drug smuggling. She was offered the position of a quality assurance technician in their jewellery company. Little did she know, this meeting wasn't by sheer chance. It transpired that her aunt had connections with the syndicate, having brought her niece to the States to enlist her. It was due to this that the syndicate reached out, only too eager to hire Alaia as they had previously hired her aunt many years before.

[ tw ; mention of drugs. ] In the beginning, Alaia's role within the business was as innocent as she'd expected. She'd spend hours in the back, analysing gems and printing her signature on certificates. Obeying by every rule, following each order and never once questioning her superiors. After months upon months of this process, Alaia soon found herself roped into the world of drug dealing. Of smuggling little white pouches through emerald deliveries only to pass these packages through the appropriate channels. It was through this that she crossed paths with a client who, after many weeks, kindly invited her along to spectate an underground fight that he'd placed a hefty wager on. Immediately Alaia bought into the atmosphere of the arena, of the adrenaline pumping through her veins at the sheer vision of it all. It wasn't long until she wondered how exhilarated she could feel if she was the one in the ring, throwing the punches and sidestepping the blows. It was this passing thought that brought the girl back continually, placing bets and soaking in the ambience of it all. It was no surprise that she wound up deeply engrossed it becoming a part of it all. Thus, she trained as hard as she could, fought as hard as she could, made her mark upon the underground world and gained the respect of opponents and spectators alike.

Fast forward a few years and through her aptitude for fighting and her ability to outwit her opponents, Alaia found herself promoted to a regular within the club. For many months she continued to work at the jeweller's while regularly engaging in underground fights, maintaining a semblance on both worlds without permitting them to collide or spill over into her personal life. Finally, having grown tired and with a lust for change, she bid her time until the empire granted her release. Though she was no fool, packing up her belongings and venturing to finally set roots in Red Ridge. Naturally, she found herself drawn to Rogue’s Club where due to her strength, commitment and determination, a member of Valencia approached her. After some time, Alaia found herself promoted to a soldier. The promotion made sense and once it was offered, the girl seized the opportunity with both hands. All her life she had been determined and destined for greatness, even despite the cruelty of her childhood home. Nowadays, although Alaia continues to partake in arena matches every once in a while, her main priority is her duties as a soldier. Admittedly, it had taken Alaia a decent amount of months to adapt to the city of Red Ridge upon her arrival but eventually, she became well acquainted with her environment; never once wishing to go back to where she came from.

Throughout her twenty-seven years of life so far, Alaia has built herself back up time and time again. With every punch swung her way, physically and metaphorically, she has risen to her feet each time. For as clever as she is, she is just as resilient and stubborn. The need to prove people wrong is almost overwhelming but never to her detriment. While she continues to bear the emotional scars of her past, Alaia refuses to write herself off. She allows herself to admire people, history, art, music but she never grows comfortable enough that she is prepared to show even the people closest to her, her innermost, truest self. As a result of her upbringing, fragments of Alaia are broken beyond repair, lost to the depths of her mind yet deep down inside, the faintest sliver of that optimistic little girl remains. Was this the life she had envisioned for herself when she was a child with big dreams and wide eyes? Not exactly. But was it better than any alternative where she hadn't escaped the clutches of her horrid family? Without a shadow of a doubt. Where she is now is precisely where Alaia wants to be and perhaps this is the exact path she needs to take in order to fully emerge from the ashes of her haunting past.

WANTED PLOTS.

give me all of the connections from friends, frenemies, enemies, hookups, exes, rivals and everything else in between. added bonus if there’s angst or drama. if you have anything in mind feel free to throw it at me, i’m open to the majority of things and have zero triggers so come at me bro !! below you can find some connections i’d love for my lil ball of anger :

you’re a ghost from my past, haunting me. i think it would be very interesting to see alaia come face to face with someone who knew her before her arrival in red ridge. it would be even more interesting if this somebody knows her previous affiliation as a drug smuggler. maybe this person decides to blackmail alaia? or maybe they just want to know why she did what she did? maybe they are an ex-lover? either way, it would be exciting to see that kind of connection play out.

guardian by proxy. given her rebel nature and sarcastic outbursts, i feel that this chaotic girl needs some kind of parental figure in her life. lord knows, she needs one as she’s never had one. perhaps there is one particular person who knows her better than the rest? someone who knows her on a personal level and feels protective over her? maybe this person secretly checks up on alaia and keeps an eye on her from afar. really, this connection has endless possibilities but i feel that alaia having someone in her life that wholeheartedly has her back would help tame her wild side a little.

i don’t trust many but i do trust you. although alaia doesn’t make friends as easily as she did before, there would be one person in her life that she would deem worthy enough to confide in. this would be somebody that she could actually stand to be around and not under any false pretences either. it would have to be somebody that she knows she can trust 100% so for that reason, i would say they would have to be valencia affiliated. either way, i can see this person being someone that alaia actually cares for, somebody that she talks to regularly and spends time with.

there’s no friends like the old friends. this would be somebody who would have known alaia back in turkey or nyc. they could have been close friends or just acquaintances but this person might have known alaia’s family and possibly certain elements of her life when her father remarried. maybe they were a family friend or a friend she made when living with her grandmother. or somebody who knew her from her stint working in nyc. whichever, i imagine this person would be one of the rare people who actually knew the old alaia.

#xiii. 𝙵𝙸𝙻𝙴𝙳 𝚄𝙽𝙳𝙴𝚁 : alaia kaplan / introduction.#redridgeintro #abuse tw #violence tw #adultery tw #drugs tw #ok so this got hella long oops??#anywhooo come show this bby some love!

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luci-cunt · 4 years ago

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Hi, welcome to my open worm can, here’s me not being able to shut up Cureless and Cynical version @sargent-major-jane whyyyyyyy do youuuu doooo thiisss too meee aksdjfl;askdj XDD <33

Ok so first of all, here’s the cast: Izyc, a demon; Walter, a vampire; Lou a werewolf 6 year old

The story starts out with Walter summoning a demon (who happens to be Izyc) because he wants to bring his friend (Caine) back from the dead. Walt’s at this point basically a dumbass rich fratboy and him and Caine had this pretty not great friendship that was super co-dependant and toxic because Caine is not a good person. Anyways, Caine ends up dying, but the circumstances seem fishy because no one will talk to Walter about it so he gets the fantastic idea to bring Caine back from the dead.

Izyc’s a little ass tho and he’s like “how do you want him?” and so Walter orders one supersized friend resurrection.

“Alright,” Izyc said, cracking his knuckles and standing up, “which one is he?”

Walter pointed to Caine’s grave and Izyc walked over to stand in front of it. He scanned the grave stone, it was made of lacquered wood, with Caine’s name burned into it. “A wonderful son and friend with an honest soul, he will be missed.”

“Must be nice to have one of these,” Izyc remarked, more joking than wistful, “I think my parents buried me in a Payless box in the backyard.”

“Sorry,” Walter said, not sure what to say.

Izyc just shrugged, “them’s the apples,” he said, which didn’t make sense to Walter but Izyc was moving on.

There’s just one problem with this whole thing, and that’s the fact that Caine does NOT want to be alive. The reason no one told Walter about Caine’s death in detail was because Caine killed himself, and now he’s back as a nearly unkillable monster.

So Caine mauls the hell out of Walter’s arm and turns HIM into a vampire.

Some details about vampires in this world: they’re nearly unkillable. The only thing that can kill them is another vampire. The sunlight thing is a myth, Walt is allergic to garlic tho. Also he’s got fangs, and has better senses. Oh and there’s a wrinkle: the vampiric disease can be transfered thru bodily fluids--I promise this will be important later XDD

Anywhoo--Walt’s a vampire now and he’s grouchy and grumpy about it. he goes all emo and the story flashes forward 7ish years to him sulking in a bar even though he can’t get drunk he just LiKeS tHe BuRn.

this is where we find out Izyc has stuck around, and that him and Walter hunt monsters. Also that Izyc really likes his pair of jeans.

Izyc cried out as he hit the ground, scrambling to hold onto something as the gnome dragged him down into the tunnels. His arms hit the sides of the tunnel and stopped him and he cursed.

Walter was on him in a second, grabbing him by the coat as Izyc held onto his arms and pulled against the gnome.

“Fucking– catch– fire!” Walter yelled, straining to pull Izyc out of the hole.

“I like these jeans!” Izyc yelled back, “Ow! Shit!” he yelped, probably as the thing’s claws started digging in.

Oh also: since Izyc is a demon he’s got some magic powers, most namely: the ability to set himself on fire, the ability to conjure anything in the world as long as he makes a deal, and an immunity to vampire sicknesss.

Also also: these are gnomes in this universe (description courtesy of Izyc’s bestiology)

Surprisingly large, looks a bit like if a mole and a man decided to shit on god’s face by fucking. Claws for hands and pointy faces with milky eyes covered by big, bushy eyebrows. Does not wear clothing, which is a sight, and known for dragging unsuspecting women into their dens during mating seasons. The species is exclusively male and very reclusive/ meek. Will not inhabit anywhere within a mile of another gnome.

So.... moving on.... Izyc and Walt have an odd relationship, they travel around the US living out of hotels (specifically one that’s run by a man eating ghoul named Klancy who may or may not be 100 years old).

Some details to know about demons: most of them were desperate people who sold their souls to other demons for something in their life. Then when they die they get stuck in this limbo and are basically hellish office workers. People can summon Izyc, but the only ritual most know just pokes at him and he can ignore it. It’s actually how him and Walt get jobs, someone summon’s Izyc and gives him details and then Walt and him zip on over.

So Izyc’s got nothing better to do and Walt was his first ever deal so sue him, he’s lonely, he just kinda sticks with Walt. After a couple of years tho they start fucking, and both claim it’s for convenience sake--mostly Walt tho, cuz he can’t have sex with anyone who isn’t a vampire unless he wants to make them a vampire and -- yeah anyways.

Izyc catches feelings though, and he tries to pipe up about it, but then Lou crashes into the story.

Some details to know about werewolves: they don’t only transform under the full moon, but that is a sacred time for them. They’re very ostracized by the world, forced to live in tiny communities and keep to themselves because they’re “dangerous.”

One day, a vampire comes through and murders Lou’s entire pack

and the two other packs living in the town with them.

Lou is the only survivor, and she’s friends with a woman named Luca who mentions a bitchy-but-nice vampire named Walter.

And so Lou’s grieving 6 y/o brain goes “only a vampire can kill another vampire, this is perfect” and tracks Walt down and twists his heart strings until he agrees to at least check the scene out.

Details about Luca: she’s Walter’s ex-boyfriend’s step-sister and she’s also half banshee. She’s also also one of Walter’s only friends.

Some details about banshee’s: contrary to popular belief they aren’t omens of death, rather just really fucked up people. They’re usually the product of a hateful birth and feel emotion so strongly they’ll only be able to feel one single emotion in their lives. Usually people’s first emotions when their born is fear, and thus--screaming banshee’s. However, if you’re only part banshee you feel other emotions but they’re still super strong, so Luca’s basically cracked out bipolar. She takes meds that help but if she doesn’t take them it gets BAD.

Anyways, Walter goes to the crime scene, it goes a little like this:

It started as splatters, dried and dirty looking on the ground. Then it got thicker, darker, and more concentrated. The walls of surrounding buildings were painted with it, and the street looked like it had been bathed in it. At the end of the street, however, was a schoolhouse, which seemed to be the source of all of it.

Walter’s shiver had nothing to do with the cold.

“Hey!” a voice called suddenly, stirring Walter out of where he’d been standing, staring at the school. It wasn’t very large, just a long, single story building that had a lot of windows and big doors. Above them were rusting metal letters spelling ‘SMITH CREEK ELEMENTARY.’ Most of the windows were broken and the doors had been torn off their hinges. The lawn in front of the school – which had probably been grass before – was now torn up and muddied from countless claws scrambling and tearing it up.

“Hey!” The voice called again, this time closer, “you can’t be here.”

Walter turned to find a man walking up to him. He was wearing an officer’s uniform and his face was scrunched up in annoyance behind a big paper mask that covered his mouth and nose. Walter could smell lavender on it. The officer was also quite a bit shorter than Walter, and he had blond hair and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at Walter.

“I’m on business,” Walter said, “a consultant,” he lied.

The officer gave him a shrewd look, “we didn’t hear anything about you coming up,” he said.

Walter sighed, “it’s not my fault your department is useless.” The man’s face twitched. “I’m going back to work now, unless you want me to bother my superior and admit you messed up,” Walter said, brushing past the bristling man.

“What kind of consultant are you supposed to be?” he asked, jogging a bit to catch up to Walter as he picked his way up to the school. There was a shallow set of stairs leading to the doors. The stairs were dark with blood and Walter almost expected them to be tacky. It had been days though, and they were dried by now.

“Vampiric expert,” Walter said.

“What are your credentials?”

Walter turned and flashed his fangs. All the blood drained from the mans face and he took a few quick steps back. Walter didn’t stop walking, just tore through the caution tape blocking the doorway and went inside.

We find out later on that this is actually Caine’s doing, and Caine goes on a bit of the murder spree, which is what the book devolves into. Before it was some cases, a bunch of undocumented kishi (people with hyena faces on the backs of their heads) run into a wyvern problem that turns into a monster smuggling scandal. Izyc pisses off pirates which results in them kidnapping him to try and make Walt murder a bunch of mermaids, which just leads to the mermaids and Walt eating all the pirates. They meet another vampire named Marissa who happens to also be a warlock and zips them into a pocket dimension that’s like a 1950′s nuclear family where Izyc goes crazy, manages to escape, and then has to get into Walt’s pocket dimension and kill his alternate self.

yknow, the usual.

This is so fucking long I’m so sorry if you managed to get all the way down here I owe you my whole soul aksjdf;lakjsdf;lkajsdf here’s some snippets:

#this is so long akjdf;laskdjf i'm sorry #c/c

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hideyseek · 4 years ago

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50 Questions You’ve Never Been Asked

tagged by @usersoup <3

What is the colour of your hairbrush? it is .. black and turquoise, though i must admit that since i’ve cut my hair i rarely use it.

Name a food you never eat? huh. caviar? i tend to forget about the existence of foods i don’t eat until i’m on the instacard website. chocolate ice cream, i guess. that’s like, a normal-person food i never consume.

Are you typically too warm or too cold? i am constantly too cold. as i type this i am in my apartment in sweatpants under a blanket and my roommate is in shorts and a tshirt.

What were you doing 45 minutes ago? mm i was reading a room of one’s own, at risk of sounding like the pretentious humanities major i am. i’m reading it out of desperation (we are in possession of the writer’s block and we would like to give it up as soon as possible), after having had it in my head to read since i came across a lin-manuel miranda tween in like 2015 telling all young writers to read it

What is your favourite candy bar? i don’t really like.. candy. twix or butterfingers, if i had to pick one at gunpoint.

Have you ever been to a professional sports event? yEAH u fucking bet i went to winterguard international championships twice in high school and bands of america championships once (both as part of my school’s winter/colorguard). i’ve never gone to a pro sportsball match though.

What is the last thing you said out loud? oh, are you really out there alone? (at my roommate, who is on the balcony with a desk lamp rigged up for optimal dirtball making).

What is your favourite ice cream? vanilla. or hazelnut. i fucking love hazelnut.

What was the last thing you had to drink? not to associate myself with brands, but i am drinking sprite as i type this.

Do you like your wallet? yes! i had my wallet nicked on a bus in the middle of the semester and my replacement is a lovely narrow black folding wallet that i am infinitely fond of.

What was the last thing you ate? the dregs of my cheezits, pepper jack flavor

Did you buy any new clothes last weekend? mm no, though during my phone call with my grandma earlier this week she told me i should buy more clothes no less than four times. she thinks i should own and wear more “pretty girl clothes” and i haven’t the heart to tell her that i think gender is fake.

The last sporting event you watched? i participated in a harry potter pub quiz over zoom the other week, if that counts. otherwise, probably something televised and american football related, several months ago.

What is your favourite flavour of popcorn? KETTLE CORN KETTLE CORN KETTLE CORN KETTLE CORN KETTLE CORN KETTLE CORN

Who is the last person you sent a text message to? oH thank god i have an interesting answer to this one -- my stage manager/playwright friend, whose recent play i am dying to get a copy of.

Ever go camping? yeah. my family used to go every august with some family friends.

Do you take vitamins? mm just vitamin d. (fuck off this was not meant to be a dick joke).

Do you go to church every Sunday? nah.

Do you have a tan? not anymore... even during the semester i spend most of my time underground in a basement rehearsal space or in the on-campus computer labs. (hence the vitamin d)

Do you prefer Chinese food or pizza? these are?? not equivalent at all in terms of scope? chinese food, of course.

Do you drink your soda with a straw? nah. can-to-mouth for me.

What colour socks do you usually wear? depends on how cold i am: i have some very lovely warm purple socks and some red and black socks that my dear friend gifted me for christmas last? year? but otherwise i have just sports shoes height white socks and black socks.

Do you ever drive above the speed limit? i am gay, i do not drive.

What terrifies you? failure, mostly. i hate that that’s my answer, but there you go. failure, or being putting myself in a situation where i don’t really have a choice in what happens to me.

Look to your left, what do you see? mm, i just moved from the study to bed so: the empty space in the loft bed railing where the ladder is, a blank wall, the edge and hinges of the bedroom wall.

What chore do you hate? none, really? i’ll get really passive-aggressive about some of the small apartment tidying things in my head, but not often enough that anything comes to mind now.

What do you think of when you hear an Australian accent? how my linguistics prof last semester had folks self-identify if they spoke non-american english in the middle of lecture

What’s your favourite soda? hm, hm. oH. there’s a vietnamese sandwich place in my hometown that has the best lychee soda. (a handful of google image searches informs me this is elisha aerated brand)

Do you go in a fast food place or just hit the drive-thru? hm, most of the time when i’m going to fast food i’m going to in-n-out with either a pile of theater people or my high school friend group, so sitting. er, going in.

Who’s the last person you talked to? roommates, in person.

Favourite cut of beef? i could not name cuts of beef if u asked me to really nicely. actually jk i know uh, ox... oxtail? i like oxtail soup.

Last song you listened to? am in the middle of listening to trenchh by cavetown but i’ve been alternating fob and cavetown and bastille on shuffle on spotify.

Last book you read? ella enchanted by gail carson levine, because it is my #1 comfort book.

Favourite day of the week? i like thursdays. they just sound nice.

Can you say the alphabet backwards? if i had like, several minutes, i probably could do it. but everything after w would involve me counting (counting? reciting?) from the beginning.

How do you like you coffee? i’ll drink it any way but black. i have discovered i do not like dalgona coffee. but i like the dark chocolate mocha that peet’s does in the winter a ridiculous amount.

Favourite pair of shoes? i have this pair of converse that’s grey stripes that always makes me feel like a Cool Arts Student, even though it’s actively terrible for my arches.

The time you normally go to bed? to bed? midnightish. to being asleep? usually 1-2ish.

The time you normally get up? eleven in the morning, apparently, since that’s what’s been happening now that i’m not setting alarms. during the school year, usually 7:30 or 8 because i work in the scene shop half the mornings of the week.

What do you prefer, sunrise or sunsets? conceptually? sunsets. aesthetically? also sunsets. metaphorically, though, i prefer sunrises.

How many blankets on your bed? i’ve got a blanket (duvet, maybe? comforter? i have never really vibed with these western concepts of bedding) and another knitted blanket.

Describe your kitchen plates: black and square and slightly chipped because roommates and i get a bit aggressive with cramming them onto the drying rack.

Do you have a favourite alcoholic beverage? i like hard cider. (i like soft cider better than hard cider, but the apple taste drowns out the alcohol taste enough for me to have a pretty good time.)

Do you play cards? haha yeah. whenever i’m home i play 24 with my little brother and lose a lot. or my family’ll play 21. or BS, which i fucking hate because i cannot lie for shit.

What colour is your car? still gay, still don’t drive.

Can you change a tire? mmmmmmmmmmm no. i have a shocking lack of car-related life skills for someone holding down a job that mostly involves wrenches.

Your favourite province? oh boy. hubei province, bc there’s no country specification and this feels less impersonal than if i were to just point somewhere in australia.

Favourite job you’ve ever had? hm, let’s limit this to work i’ve done for money, just to narrow the field down. (i tend to like the work i do a lot.) i really really enjoy working as a sound technician, especially as a mic assistant (it checks my “meeting people” box and my “helping people with their emotions” box and my “storytelling for an audience” box because at the theater i work at, pre-show mic check is me talking about my day and has resulted in a handful of people telling me i should try standup). the hours and pay are kind of crap, though. you don’t get friday nights when your friday nights are spent backstage of the same show you’ve heard twenty million times at this point. i also enjoy teaching computer science, because i just fucking like computer science. christ, i just,, miss being at work :c the production of newsies i was gonna do this summer got canceled.

How did you get your biggest scar? mm, pass.

What did you do today that made someone else happy? i, hm. everything that comes to mind feels vaguely manipulative, since i can’t really tell if people were made happy? oh! i had an extended slack conversation with one of the academic interns for the cs class i help teach that was basically just us bonding over word humor. he seems like the kind of person who would have gotten a kick out of it.

I tag: @kittog @wali21 @capt-ann @lemon-yellow @iamanonniemouse @raccoon-sex-dungeon @snakesonacartesianplane @eternalflarg @swimmingseafish (do it if u want! don’t let me bully u into anything)

#tag game #SOUP I LIKED THIS A LOT! THANK U #no pressure friends #!#but also i enjoy holding knowledge about the people i like

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scige-alt · 5 years ago

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LIANA LIBERATO / CIS FEMALE — don’t look now, but is that saige beaumont i see? the 21 year old criminal psychology / linguistics student is in their sophomore year and she is a rochester alum. i hear they can be blithe, energetic, evasive and irrational, so maybe keep that in mind. i bet she will make a name for themselves living in murphy’s beach homes. ( james. 20. est. she/they. )

snjdfg these took so long i’m so sorry but anyways please LIKE and i’ll slide into yr IMs for plots !!

TW DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, IMPLIED ABUSE, ADDICTION, HIT & RUN.

a e s t h e t i c s

stick n’ pokes at 2am – when your drunk and giggling too much in between purposeful stabs, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk because they’re bad luck and they’ll break your mother’s back – even if your mother doesn’t love you, because you love her, the familiar riff in an old song – one that’s got you strumming along silently; there is no guitar, only empty air lit by the christmas lights you haven’t taken down. it’s may. swallowing down shots, and by default, swallowing down problems. laughing quick, easily, constantly. skinned knees from skateboarding, despite being rubbish at it. wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones, glitter sticking, running into the ocean at sunrise; feeling at home. excuses, and the many forms they come in. telling people you love them through hand squeezes and fresh muffins, sideways glances and soft, eager grins.

general info !!

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): n/a so give her some uwu

b.o.d. - july 7th, 21 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: bisexual w/ a very slight preference towards masc-presenting folks

stats

biography !!

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert beaumont, US lieutenant general, and manon levesque, world renown fashion designer. both calculating, cold, and purposeful.

saige never believed she was created out of love. it was an action with a purpose, intentions to create the perfect child. the hybrid of both military genius and fashion extraordinaire, molded to their will.

it took them no more than six months after her birth for her parents to up and move, thus beginning the cycle of packing and unpacking, flying and driving, state-to-state and country-to-country. the longest saige had ever stayed in one place was two years.

kept on a short leash, homeschooled, and learning skills she had no interest in – she was more like a pet, a project, than a child. the world moved all around her, but she felt restrictively tethered to her parents.

she had always felt this way. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends – saige would be there one day, and gone the next. a ghost, a very visible ghost. even so, she tried her hardest.

running from bodyguards (nannies, in a sense. her father is a paranoid man) into festival crowds and climbing out of windows in the dark of night to swim in lakes with locals she’d meet only a few hours earlier – she absorbed as much of what she could get; this intense, undying love for a world she had always craved to see.

it was the start of something near dangerous – a phase that seemed to never end, rebellion coursing through her veins. a wild child in the making, unknowing of limits. the bad sort of crowd was the crowd she found herself landing, more often than not – introducing the sheltered girl to a world she hadn’t quite known existed

she ran away, briefly, at age fifteen with a man three years older than her – which nearly ended up in a tabloid magazine if it hadn’t been for her parents’ money. though the guilt of her parents’ disappointed weighed on her, the thrill fueled something much worse

from that point on, she became a problem child. from public intoxication to vandalism – it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could contain her.

boarding school was a small attempt to stop it – she got expelled.

she hadn’t intended to go to university, either – but, by some chance – and after a mysterious year-long disappearance from public eye during her eighteenth year of life, next thing she knew, she was a student at lockwood university.

she was involved in a getaway chase from an armed robbery at a bank which then turned into a hit-and-run in washington when she was on the brink of turning eighteen. it was a situation she had no control over, not knowing her role in the scheme until it was too late to turn back. the victim survived but saige’s family has been paying the medical fees since then. her parents haven’t spoken to her since.

ever since the accident, saige has avoided causing too much trouble - generally staying out of headlines and tabloids, partially in fear of her parents finally cutting ties, and partially in fear of doing something that’ll cost another person their life.

personality !!

bubbly. so fucking bubbly. she’s got so much fucking energy on her – she goes running every morning and every night and swims like every afternoon and she’s n e v e r tired ?? the personality of a coke bottle shaken up but like if the bottle could laugh.

tries her hardest to be the Happy Fun friend, y’know, the one who can hook you up w/ some sicccc shit b/c she befriended/possibly slept with her drug dealer and now she gets discounts.

like, generally, comes off as very confident of herself and fearless and, like, yes–reckless, but like a fun reckless, y’know ??

talks a l o t, could ramble for days, hand gestures and all.

if she wants to do something, she will do it and there’s not much you can do to stop her tbh. she’s very easy-going, very go-go-go, very…mischievous, y’know? even if she’s trying to do something stupid you kinda just have to let her do it or otherwise she’ll mope for three hours and pout at you and you’ll feel ?? this weird sense of guilt ?? which isn’t the Best thing but she’s not the best person either so dfghjh

a vegetarian !! meat makes her sick, like, physically.

uuuhh her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘y’knows’, y’know ??

i am like 99% sure she’s got adhd but she’s never been diagnosed with it b/c her parents suck with that stuff. her parents sort of suck in general.

like…she’s currently not on speaking terms with them. she’s not disowned…like, yet, but they haven’t said more than like five words to each other since saige was eighteen and it k i l l s her but they also send her a shit ton of money every month so.

owns like…four cars…..she has them all on campus…..she prolly isn’t suppose to…but she does…one of them’s a real sleek sports car, one is a jacked up pick-up truck that’s decked out in like LED lights n shit, one is the same exact fucking car from the princess diaries b/c saige is obsessed w/ the movie. the other is like. a mini cooper probably.

a photographer, her walls are covered in photographs and art and taped-down plants and in general her room is very ?? cluttered ?? like it’s very home-y but god. she’s a mess. clothes everywhere. she’s probably got a pile of instruments and other miscellaneous hobbies on a chair in the corner that she hasn’t touched in a while

speaking of !! she has a bunch of random, like, skills ?? like knitting and sewing and cooking and three different forms of ballroom dancing, and she can definitely work a gun and a car engine except she goes thru interests so rapidly and is disinterested in most of the other ones b/c her parents forced like half of them onto her.

she plays bass guitar. she loves her bass guitar. she knows other instruments but the only ones she’ll really fidget with are her bass guitar and like, her violin. everything else she’s like ~okay~ at

got really obsessed with languages at a young age and started learning them ?? her mother is like. super french, like genuinely from france, so she already grew up speaking both english and french but she’s learnt others for the hell of it and she’s still learning like three other at the same time which is a MESS but she’s a mess so like can u blame her sdfghj

but like i said, she’s v e r y reckless. very much a party girl. she uses like…quite a few drugs, both socially and alone and frankly – she’s rarely sober.

a budding alcoholic because she’s convinced that without it she’ll be Miserable and Horrible to everybody because she’s a Horrible, Awful person who is the absolute Worse and if drinking vodka mixed in with 23 crystal lite packets helps with not thinking like that then she’ll do it no questions asked

its a problem she’s been developing since she was younger, only amplified by … the situation, that happened when she was eighteen.

is essentially wearing this mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness b/c she doesnt want people to think she’s doing Not Okay.

she loves so much. she loves everything, everybody. falls in love like five times a day but nothing really sticks to her either. if ur a shitty person/come off as an asshole then she’ll be more likely to be attracted to her b/c shes Always been like this. finds them super interesting which is ?? questionable ?? sometimes i want to just. knock some sense into her but y’know what…it’s fine we’re Fine

she gets around p frequently but is also the type of person who’ll like, try n maintain a positive, good friendship with whoever she sleeps with b/c the idea of having regrettable encounters is smth that Bothers her and she just pretty much refuses.

it’s honestly a bit of a problem ?? she blurs the lines between friendship and Something, Anything More too often and with too many people b/c she just. wants to be loved. but there is never enough !

she does stick n pokes !! a whole bunch !! let her give you one !! she can’t draw for shit but i mean, who cares, right ??

uuuhh her mom sends her like…prototypes of things she designs n shit that isn’t out yet and saige 100% always gives it away or it sits in her closet and essentially that is her go-to gift for birthdays or christmas or whenever she feels like it

there’s literally sm i could say about her but i’ll stop Here b/c it’s getting too long sksksksk

wanted connections !!

give me. a best friend. just somebody who sticks by her side even though she’s a Mess

like, a ride or die ?? is that the same as a best friend ?? idc i want both :)

and just in general, like, people she’s p close to ?? she’s really friendly and is the kind of girl who’d be really popular in high school but doesn’t care abt popularity n talks to literally Everybody like she’s known them all her life.

ESP if ur muse is a lil grumpier !! she will fuck their shit up, but like, in a friendship way.

party pals, where they don’t talk that much outside of parties but inside them ?? super close. glued to the hip. hold-your-hair-back kinda tight.

frenemies ?? fake friends ?? toxic pals ?? ppl using her for her money or like, sex, or something ?? anything ??

bad influences ?? who just encourage all of saige’s shit ??

good influences ?? who are like YOINK stop being an idiot.

a tutor b/c she’s like…she’s smart, okay, but she’s also really stupid LMAO. she’s rly bad at math and science. somebody help her.

hook ups ?? fwbs ?? that one, rare one-night-stand that went weird ??

exes ?? she’s sorta noncommittal so idk how long they would’ve dated but like sjdfkbo yolo ?? ex hook-ups too ??

…somebody who just. hates her. but she doesn’t realize bc she’s a big ol’ idiot. she thinks theyre pals !!

let her b a thorn in someone’s side, just like, an absolute annoyance LMAO

gimme an enemy, or like an ex-best friend where something happened between them n it ruined their friendship

i will take literally anything i dont know

she steals ur character’s mail ?? ur cat keeps escaping and she keeps letting them inside even tho she’s allergic ??

one of those friendships where theyre always bickering like an old married couple ?? but it’s Purely Platonic (or is it ??)

an off-and-on again that just. it’s not good for either of them b/c they keep enabling each other and then getting pissed off and it’s a Mess but ?? it’s so hard to stop.

the drug dealer she keeps sleeping with even though she can just … pay for her shit. b/c it’s funner this way !

just … people where their like … relationship status is Blurred and it’s like, are they a thing? are they not? b/c she’s a mess and gets involved with too many people without intending to !

please. take her. give me connections.

#huntingtonintro #drugs tw #addiction tw #alcoholism tw #implied abuse #hit and run tw

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greensconnor · 5 years ago

Note

i’m asking about your dragon age characters

molly i would KILL for u im ur personal hitman now

anyway i said my city now because the entire bioware writing team sucks shit xoxo and i’m so much smarter than all of them but also fully incapable of having a normal amount of ocs for anything (see: the time i made 20 rwby ocs in less than two weeks) so i have. five worldstates here r some assorted thoughts

uhhh so the worldstates r as follows

eira mahariel (two-handed berserk/champ spec), rhett hawke (two-handed berserk spec), alas lavellan (mage knight enchanter spec), romanced alistair/fenris/dorian respectively

shiv tabris (dual wield duelist/assassin spec), radella “rads” hawke (mage spirit healer spec), kat adaar (two-handed reaver spec), romanced morrigan/isabela/cassandra respectively because im a pc gamer and i think i should be able to date whatever video game woman i like because im infinitely better than cishet men

this world state said yeah i respect mens rights. mens rights to shut the fuck up

twins bronson (sword/shield reaver spec) & bryant cousland (archer ranger spec), carmine hawke (archer assassin spec), syracuse trevelyan (dual wield tempest spec), romanced zevran/anora/josephine/bull. if ur wondering how that works my city now and the warden, hawke and the inquisitor should all meet and so they do because i Said So

riva amell (mage arcane warrior/battlemage spec), graham “gray” hawke (mage force spec), hellathen “hela” lavellan (archer assassin spec); romanced cullen/anders and later blackwall because hawke only likes men who will break his heart. hela doesn’t have a romance because she’s literally 20. who let her lead the inquisition (me it was me). also it should be noted the version of cullen i have in my head only vaguely resembles actual cullen because i write better than dragon age writers ever could and i gave him an Actual Cohesive Narrative and he gets bullied relentlessly for being scrawnier than his mage boyfriend

malien “mal” surana (mage spirit healer/keeper spec), jules hawke (sword/shield reaver spec), ash adaar (mage rift spec), romanced leliana/merrill/krem because i should have been able to kiss krem and its a Crime that i am not allowed to

knight enchanter is a Very op specialization and by Very op i mean it makes a mage with their built-in low constitution stats able to solo the biggest baddest dragon in the game on nightmare mode in under five minutes so like. alas lavellan fist fights dragons for fun send tweet

i think lavellans should be able to hit ppl with bricks for all the shit they endure. thus solas gets pranked by mahariel and alas by which i mean they just tip buckets of water onto him from the rookery

kat might be my only competent inquisitor but she did also try to knock out the right hand of the divine and attempt to gap even tho there’s fucky magic burning up her hand so does she have a brain cell? you decide

also its fantasy land and i do what i want so kat has blue/gold sectoral heterochromia

gray “mage rights” hawke is best friends with fenris which surprises literally everyone. their friendship started because they got into a fist fight and then they were like okay i respect u now. hawke is like hey fenris give me ur sword i have a fun trick to show u [uses his sword as a foci to zap carver in the ass with lightning]

i am Always thinking abt like how cullen could have been one man anti-chantry propaganda machine if he hadn’t so blatantly been shoehorned into every game past origins so anyway bioware forgot about a wholeass moon i can write what i like. [holds up cullen by the scruff of his stupid armor] not only are you bisexual you are also a bottom

i also Hate the whole uwu mage haters get fixed by romancing a mage

unlocked secret dialogue option where my inquisitors verbally cuss out dorian’s dad instead of whatever sympathetic narrative the writers were going for cuz its bullshit.

riva is a showoff and a Menace about being as good as he is because he unabashedly loves being a mage and hes like oooh look at me im sexy i dont need to use my hands to cast magic because i’m just that good ;)) and you know what. hes right.

gray, on the other hand, does Not want to be mage. he wants to be a druffalo farmer and retire in the hinterlands and be left the fuck alone. unfortunately he is gay and has one brain cell and terrible, terrible taste in men. ribbed relentlessly for this by riva (altho does he have room to talk hes been hung up on cullen since he was like 13)

shiv is trans n kieran is the result of doing the dark ritual with her wife and he looks a Lot like shiv (dark skin pointed ears, shock-white hair) and morrigan always just Assumed she dyed it or did something magic with it so seeing their kid come out like that was a WEIRD time for her

leliana almost Murdered by cassandra in worldstate 5 because the warden is Actually There The Whole Time, but its been 10 years, mal’s cut off all her hair and gotten full facial tattoos and she’s like “no one will know its me its fine” and she’s right. she gets away with it. only cullen like, Knows, because he knew her before the blight but he doesnt have a death wish n he like. will Not piss her off

shes dalish by birth n she was stolen from her clan by templars and thus is vehemently anti-circle and anti-chantry in general

uhhh the vallaslin (elf face tattoos) of my 4 dalish characters are:

eira = ghilan’nain (chose em cuz shes rlly interested in the navigation aspect of the goddess)

alas = falon’din (god of the dead n he picked them because he’s Also the god of fortune and alas is like tee hee fun but also he can and will kill u if u fuck with him so yk its fitting)

hela = june (god of the craft bc she likes to Make things but june is also the god who taught the elves 2 hunt and hela is. a hunter.)

mal = elgar’nan (allfather/god of vengeance bc. she is Vengeful. she is Angry. but yk fucking with shem politics and fucking their divine is like. mal may have little a retribution. as a treat.) yes she has the full half-face solid colour tattoo she does NOT fuck around.

bronson and bryant r not genetically identical but they Look similar enough 2 anyone who doesn’t know them well enough 2 play spot the distance. anora and bronson think this is a super fun game to play, especially when nobles realize they’ve swapped out the king but they’re too nervous to say anything

eira mahariel has two hands. one is for holding hands with alistair and the other is for throttling elven gods, apparently. she’s killed one before so solas she’s coming for your bitch ass next. watch urself.

speaking of eira and alistair are married thru dalish tradition and humans don’t recognize it n alistair loves 2 re-propose to her with random things. he’ll just pick up like. a bit of cheese and be like “marry me ;)” and she’s like GASP but whatever will the chantry say!!!! all of their friends r sick of them

“vhenan if you love me bring me a sword” “you think i could do better than a sword made out of space rock?” “:)”

eira is my youngest hero at 18 at the start of her game and kat is my oldest at 32 at the start of her game.

none of my hawkes are under six foot. rhett is the tallest (6′8″) and rads is the shortest (6′2″).

syracuse trevelyan would have been the Perfect inquisitor if he were not a pretty boy himbo and a gay bastard who does Most Things just to spite his parents.

[corypheus pointing at syracuse’s visage in his crystal orb thingo] i want that twink obliterated

i love the companions from older games return thing i truly do so i make it a point for Every companion to return in inquisition so the gang rlly is all here because i am a Slutte for found family

i lie in my keep worldstates because i dont want to choose between hawke and alistair during here lies the abyss but i never make him king and every time i play inquisition and cole has the wicked grace line it makes me Scream. alistair baby im so sorry i did this to you but i didnt actually do this to you

yes this is my everyone lives au but like. all the time. i have never left hawke in the fade and i do not intend to.

fuck whatever nonsense about wardens not being able 2 have kids. by sheer divine power (me) anora and bryant have three daughters; eleanor, sabina & cecelia n both bronson and zevran make Excellent uncles because i think anora deserves good things because i’m tired of bioware being like women bad, actually,

so like most of the time i have the warden & hawke turning up after the move to skyhold n then staying on, with the exception of bryant, carmine & mal. mal is as mentioned previously just There the whole time with her girlfriend. bryant steps in as king of ferelden w/ interests in closing the big hole in the sky spewing demons in2 his kingdom yk. carmine shows up because she wants to help & she wants protection for bethany but she outright says she’d rather die than be inquisitor so cassandra is shit out of luck.

“CHANGE HER MIND VARRIC” “she once doubled down on insisting amaranth was a shade of blue because she didn’t want to admit to being wrong. no one’s changing her mind seeker”

alas is the middle child of eight and is thus very good with children and also bossing around people older than him. 2 of his older siblings come to the inquisition when stuff in wycome has been settled

i left ash with the basic canon background with Some variation (he grew up under the qun and left of his own free will when his magic was discovered n he realized he couldn’t take living as a saarebas

kat on the other hand was raised tal-vashoth and has bounced around basically all over thedas and leads her own merc company when the conclave blows up. she also speaks multiple languages. is there a language she doesn’t speak? probably not

just realized how long this got so im gonna like. stop my general rambling now but lmao yeah theres some basics. waves hands.

#sol.txt #sol.orig #long post #late night followers im SO sorry for this #but also like.#i love them so yall just have 2 cope w/ it #no thoughts head dragon age #peonydarling

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scige-archive · 5 years ago

Text

LIANA LIBERATO / CIS FEMALE. — saige beaumont is really making a name for themselves as a sheep. i think that she is studying criminal psychology + linguistics in their junior year at lockwood, living in alpha nu. originally from thibodaux, louisiana, saige is known to be blithe & energetic, but can also be evasive & irrational. — james / 20 / est / she/they.

hi !! this is mostly just a repost, but there has been added information to her biography section, as well as her connections to the victims. i’m excited to continue rping with u all !!!

TW DRUG USE, ALCOHOLISM, IMPLIED ABUSE, ADDICTION, HIT & RUN.

a e s t h e t i c s

general info !!

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): n/a so give her some uwu

b.o.d. - july 7th, 21 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: firstly when aren’t my babies bi as FUCK but she also prefers masc-presenting folks

stats

biography !!

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert beaumont, US lieutenant general, and manon levesque, world renown fashion designer. both calculating, cold, and purposeful.

she had always felt this way. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends – saige would be there one day, and gone the next. a ghost, a very visible ghost. even so, she tried her hardest.

from that point on, she became a problem child. from public intoxication to vandalism – it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could contain her.

boarding school was a small attempt to stop it – she got expelled.

and while too afraid to visit the victim & their family, every month since the conviction of the others involved - she’ll visit one of them in particular. it’s been three years and saige has shown no sign of stopping.

during her last visit, he had sent her on a scavenger hunt resulting in her breaking into his brother’s (& his, technically) home and finding a second iPhone - one she had no idea he had, one with the watershed app installed. their intentions was for saige to be able to access the app - but his shepherd access had been revoked, and the phone had already been wiped clean. regardless, saige took it back to rochester with her.

personality !!

tries her hardest to be the Happy Fun friend, y’know, the one who can hook you up w/ some sicccc shit b/c she befriended/possibly slept with her drug dealer and now she gets discounts.

like, generally, comes off as very confident of herself and fearless and, like, yes–reckless, but like a fun reckless, y’know ??

talks a l o t, could ramble for days, hand gestures and all.

a vegetarian !! meat makes her sick, like, physically.

uuuhh her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘y’knows’, y’know ??

i am like 99% sure she’s got adhd but she’s never been diagnosed with it b/c her parents suck with that stuff. her parents sort of suck in general.

but like i said, she’s v e r y reckless. very much a party girl. she uses like…quite a few drugs, both socially and alone and frankly – she’s rarely sober.

its a problem she’s been developing since she was younger, only amplified by … the situation, that happened when she was eighteen.

is essentially wearing this mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness b/c she doesnt want people to think she’s doing Not Okay.

she does stick n pokes !! a whole bunch !! let her give you one !! she can’t draw for shit but i mean, who cares, right ??

there’s literally sm i could say about her but i’ll stop Here b/c it’s getting too long sksksksk

connections to the victims !!

tatiana samuels / saige & tatiana met when they were freshmen and junior, respectively. they quickly became friends - mostly seen together at parties, where they’d encourage each other to do more, more, more. their friendship was ended after they’d taken a friend’s car on a joyride and wound up crashing it off of a back road. saige freaked out about it & tatiana ... did not. as a result of their very different reactions, and saige’s fear of landing in the news, they cut ties.

george craig iii / saige had met george after bringing tatiana back to her dorm one night where they accidentally crossed paths. one thing led to another and they wound up sleeping together. it hadn’t meant to be a thing at all, but there had been two other incidents of them ‘accidentally crossing paths’ before his disappearance.

hana williams / for the two of them to not be friends would be, frankly - weird, due to their similar friendly personalities. they got along well, but weren’t the closest pair.

christoph wainwright / they had hooked up numerous times before without issue, but christoph’s jealous yet emotionally unavailable personality & saige’s own conflicted feelings had resulted in a huge fight, which led to their falling out - which led to them quickly becoming enemies, instead.

wanted connections !!

give me. a best friend. just somebody who sticks by her side even though she’s a Mess

like, a ride or die ?? is that the same as a best friend ?? idc i want both :)

ESP if ur muse is a lil grumpier !! she will fuck their shit up, but like, in a friendship way.

party pals, where they don’t talk that much outside of parties but inside them ?? super close. glued to the hip. hold-your-hair-back kinda tight.

frenemies ?? fake friends ?? toxic pals ?? ppl using her for her money or like, sex, or something ?? anything ??

bad influences ?? who just encourage all of saige’s shit ??

good influences ?? who are like YOINK stop being an idiot.

a tutor b/c she’s like…she’s smart, okay, but she’s also really stupid LMAO. she’s rly bad at math and science. somebody help her.

hook ups ?? fwbs ?? that one, rare one-night-stand that went weird ??

exes ?? she’s sorta noncommittal so idk how long they would’ve dated but like sjdfkbo yolo ?? ex hook-ups too ??

…somebody who just. hates her. but she doesn’t realize bc she’s a big ol’ idiot. she thinks theyre pals !!

let her b a thorn in someone’s side, just like, an absolute annoyance LMAO

gimme an enemy, or like an ex-best friend where something happened between them n it ruined their friendship

i will take literally anything i dont know

she steals ur character’s mail ?? ur cat keeps escaping and she keeps letting them inside even tho she’s allergic ??

one of those friendships where theyre always bickering like an old married couple ?? but it’s Purely Platonic (or is it ??)

an off-and-on again that just. it’s not good for either of them b/c they keep enabling each other and then getting pissed off and it’s a Mess but ?? it’s so hard to stop.

the drug dealer she keeps sleeping with even though she can just … pay for her shit. b/c it’s funner this way !

just … people where their like … relationship status is Blurred and it’s like, are they a thing? are they not? b/c she’s a mess and gets involved with too many people without intending to !

please. take her. give me connections.

#wshintro #alcoholism tw #drugs tw #implied abuse #addiction tw #hit and run tw

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scigebabadook · 5 years ago

Text

cisfemale — ever hear people say SAIGE BORDEAUX looks a lot like LIANA LIBERATO? I think SHE is about 20, so it doesn’t really work. The LINGUISTICS + CRIMINAL PSYCHOLOGY major is a SOPHOMORE that is from ALL OVER THE PLACE. They can be BLITHE, but they can also be EVASIVE. I think SAIGE might be a SHEEP. They are living in BALTA. ( snot goblin. 20. EST. she/they. )

hello ,,, it seems i am a sheep and Refuse to leave the herd. aka i love u all so frickin’ much ,,, and w/o further ado, here is saige !! pleathe LIKE this so i can shimmy into yr ims !!

TW: drug use, alcoholism, implied abuse ? shitty parents at the very least, addiction

a e s t h e t i c s

general info !!

full name: saige alouette bordeaux

nickname(s): n/a so give her some uwu

b.o.d. - july 7th, 20 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: firstly when aren’t my babies bi as FUCK but she also prefers masc-presenting folks

stats

biography !!

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert bordeaux, US lieutenant general, and manon levesque, world renown fashion designer. both calculating, cold, and purposeful.

she had always felt this way. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends – saige would be there one day, and gone the next. a ghost, a very visible ghost. even so, she tried her hardest.

from that point on, she became a problem child. from public intoxication to vandalism – it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could contain her.

boarding school was a small attempt to stop it – she got expelled.

she hadn’t intended to go to university, either – but, by some chance – and after a mysterious year-long disappearance from public eye during her eighteenth year of living, next thing she knew, she was a student at gifford university in a town she’d never been to before.

personality !!

tries her hardest to be the Happy Fun friend, y’know, the one who can hook you up w/ some sicccc shit b/c she befriended/possibly slept with her drug dealer and now she gets discounts.

like, generally, comes off as very confident of herself and fearless and, like, yes–reckless, but like a fun reckless, y’know ??

talks a l o t, could ramble for days, hand gestures and all.

a vegetarian !! meat makes her sick, like, physically.

uuuhh her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘y’knows’, y’know ??

i am like 99% sure she’s got adhd but she’s never been diagnosed with it b/c her parents suck with that stuff. her parents sort of suck in general.

but like i said, she’s v e r y reckless. very much a party girl. she uses like…quite a few drugs, both socially and alone and frankly – she’s rarely sober.

its a problem she’s been developing since she was younger, only amplified by … the situation, that happened when she was eighteen.

is essentially wearing this mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness b/c she doesnt want people to think she’s doing Not Okay.

she does stick n pokes !! a whole bunch !! let her give you one !! she can’t draw for shit but i mean, who cares, right ??

there’s literally sm i could say about her but i’ll stop Here b/c it’s getting too long sksksksk

wanted connections !!

give me. a best friend. just somebody who sticks by her side even though she’s a Mess

like, a ride or die ?? is that the same as a best friend ?? idc i want both :)

ESP if ur muse is a lil grumpier !! she will fuck their shit up, but like, in a friendship way.

party pals, where they don’t talk that much outside of parties but inside them ?? super close. glued to the hip. hold-your-hair-back kinda tight.

frenemies ?? fake friends ?? toxic pals ?? ppl using her for her money or like, sex, or something ?? anything ??

bad influences ?? who just encourage all of saige’s shit ??

good influences ?? who are like YOINK stop being an idiot.

a tutor b/c she’s like…she’s smart, okay, but she’s also really stupid LMAO. she’s rly bad at math and science. somebody help her.

hook ups ?? fwbs ?? that one, rare one-night-stand that went weird ??

exes ?? she’s sorta noncommittal so idk how long they would’ve dated but like sjdfkbo yolo ?? ex hook-ups too ??

…somebody who just. hates her. but she doesn’t realize bc she’s a big ol’ idiot. she thinks theyre pals !!

let her b a thorn in someone’s side, just like, an absolute annoyance LMAO

gimme an enemy, or like an ex-best friend where something happened between them n it ruined their friendship

i will take literally anything i dont know

she steals ur character’s mail ?? ur cat keeps escaping and she keeps letting them inside even tho she’s allergic ??

one of those friendships where theyre always bickering like an old married couple ?? but it’s Purely Platonic (or is it ??)

an off-and-on again that just. it’s not good for either of them b/c they keep enabling each other and then getting pissed off and it’s a Mess but ?? it’s so hard to stop.

the drug dealer she keeps sleeping with even though she can just ... pay for her shit. b/c it’s funner this way !

just ... people where their like ... relationship status is Blurred and it’s like, are they a thing? are they not? b/c she’s a mess and gets involved with too many people without intending to !

please. take her. give me connections.

#livingintro #drug addiction tw #alcoholism tw #abuse tw #[youtube comment voice] first !!!!111!!!111!

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saigeboredeaux-blog · 6 years ago

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( cisfemale ) haven’t seen SAIGE BORDEAUX around in a while. the LIANA LIBERATO lookalike has been known to be (+) CONFIDENT & (+) AMIABLE, but SHE can also be (-) RECKLESS & (-) IRRATIONAL. The 20 year old is a SOPHOMORE majoring in LINGUISTICS + CRIMINAL PSYCHOLOGY. I believe they’re living in FIDELIS but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. ( james! 20! est! she/they! )

i loved naeva but it isnt her time, she doesnt belong in the mortal realm sndjkfjgkh BUT i did wake up from my nap with an INTENSE FEELING OF LOVE AND MUSE for saige, who is my actual legitimate daughter. so pleathe, have her. love her. respect her. if you haven’t already dropped a like on my other post and you’d like to plot with saige, pleathe do so on this one !!

TW: drug use, alcoholism, implied abuse ? shitty parents at the very least, addiction

a e s t h e t i c s (i saved them this time !!!)

stick n' pokes at 2am -- when your drunk and giggling too much in between purposeful stabs, avoiding the cracks in the sidewalk because they're bad luck and they'll break your mother's back -- even if your mother doesn't love you, because you love her, the familiar riff in an old song -- one that's got you strumming along silently; there is no guitar, only empty air lit by the christmas lights you haven't taken down. it's may. swallowing down shots, and by default, swallowing down problems. laughing quick, easily, constantly. skinned knees from skateboarding, despite being rubbish at it. wishes on eyelashes stuck to your cheekbones, glitter sticking, running into the ocean at sunrise; feeling at home. excuses, and the many forms they come in. telling people you love them through hand squeezes and fresh muffins, sideways glances and soft, eager grins.

general info !!

full name: saige alouette beaumont

nickname(s): she…doesn’t have any in this timeline but PLEASE, she LOVES nicknames. she’s a nickname slut.

b.o.d. - july 7th, 20 whole yrs old.

label(s): the hedonist, the icarcian, the reveler, etc. etc.

height: 5′7″ thank u very much !!

hometown: thibodaux, louisiana

sexuality: firstly when aren’t my babies bi as FUCK but she also prefers masc-presenting folks

stats

biography !!

the fallible daughter of two very infallible people: robert bordeaux, US lieutenant general, and manon levesque, world renown fashion designer. both calculating, cold, and purposeful.

kept on a short leash, homeschooled, and learning skills she had no interest in -- she was more like a pet, a project, than a child. the world moved all around her, but she felt restrictively tethered to her parents.

she had always felt this way. a bird in a cage of thorns.

it was hard to keep and maintain friends -- saige would be there one day, and gone the next. a ghost, a very visible ghost. even so, she tried her hardest.

running from bodyguards (nannies, in a sense. her father is a paranoid man) into festival crowds and climbing out of windows in the dark of night to swim in lakes with locals she’d meet only a few hours earlier -- she absorbed as much of what she could get; this intense, undying love for a world she had always craved to see.

it was the start of something near dangerous -- a phase that seemed to never end, rebellion coursing through her veins. a wild child in the making, unknowing of limits. the bad sort of crowd was the crowd she found herself landing, more often than not -- introducing the sheltered girl to a world she hadn’t quite known existed

she ran away, briefly, at age fifteen with a man three years older than her -- which nearly ended up in a tabloid magazine if it hadn’t been for her parents’ money. though the guilt of her parents’ disappointed weighed on her, the thrill fueled something much worse

from that point on, she became a problem child. from public intoxication to vandalism -- it was clear their daughter was unraveling and nothing could contain her.

boarding school was a small attempt to stop it -- she got expelled.

she hadn’t intended to go to university, either -- but, by some chance -- and after a mysterious year-long disappearance from public eye during her eighteenth year of living, next thing she knew, she was a student at lockwood. (more on this later :~) )

connection to tatiana: party pals !! super close as long as they were drunk, but they generally ran in different circles (though saige sorta...runs through all circles?) whilst sober

personality !!

bubbly. so fucking bubbly. she’s got so much fucking energy on her -- she goes running every morning and every night and swims like every afternoon and she’s n e v e r tired ?? the personality of a coke bottle shaken up but like if the bottle could laugh.

tries her hardest to be the Happy Fun friend, y’know, the one who can hook you up w/ some sicccc shit b/c she befriended/possibly slept with her drug dealer and now she gets discounts.

like, generally, comes off as very confident of herself and fearless and, like, yes--reckless, but like a fun reckless, y’know ??

talks a l o t, could ramble for days, hand gestures and all.

if she wants to do something, she will do it and there’s not much you can do to stop her tbh. she’s very easy-going, very go-go-go, very...mischievous, y’know? even if she’s trying to do something stupid you kinda just have to let her do it or otherwise she’ll mope for three hours and pout at you and you’ll feel ?? this weird sense of guilt ?? which isn’t the Best thing but she’s not the best person either so dfghjh

a vegetarian !! meat makes her sick, like, physically.

uuuhh her vocabulary consists of a lot of ‘likes’ and ‘ums’ and ‘y’knows’, y’know ??

i am like 99% sure she’s got adhd but she’s never been diagnosed with it b/c her parents suck with that stuff. her parents sort of suck in general.

like...she’s currently not on speaking terms with them. she’s not disowned...like, yet, but they haven’t said more than like five words to each other since saige was eighteen and it k i l l s her but they also send her a shit ton of money every month so.

owns like...four cars.....she has them all on campus.....she prolly isn’t suppose to...but she does...one of them’s a real sleek sports car, one is a jacked up pick-up truck that’s decked out in like LED lights n shit, one is the same exact fucking car from the princess diaries b/c saige is obsessed w/ the movie. the other is like. a mini cooper probably.

but like i said, she’s v e r y reckless. very much a party girl. she uses like...quite a few drugs, both socially and alone and frankly -- she’s rarely sober.

its a problem she’s been developing since she was younger, only amplified by ... situation, that happened when she was eighteen.

is essentially wearing this mask of confidence and giddiness and flirtatiousness b/c she doesnt want people to think she’s doing Not Okay.

she does stick n pokes !! a whole bunch !! let her give you one !! she can’t draw for shit but i mean, who cares, right ??

uuuhh her mom sends her like...prototypes of things she designs n shit that isn’t out yet and saige 100% always gives it away or it sits in her closet and essentially that is her go-to gift for birthdays or christmas or whenever she feels like it

there’s literally sm i could say about her but i’ll stop Here b/c it’s getting too long sksksksk

wanted connections !!

give me. a best friend. just somebody who sticks by her side even though she’s a Mess

like, a ride or die ?? is that the same as a best friend ?? idc i want both :)

ESP if ur muse is a lil grumpier !! she will fuck their shit up, but like, in a friendship way.

party pals, who, much like tatiana they don’t talk that much outside of parties but inside them ?? super close. glued to the hip. hold-your-hair-back kinda tight.

frenemies ?? fake friends ?? toxic pals ?? ppl using her for her money or like, sex, or something ?? anything ??

bad influences ?? who just encourage all of saige’s shit ??

good influences ?? who are like YOINK stop being an idiot.

a tutor b/c she’s like...she’s smart, okay, but she’s also really stupid LMAO. she’s rly bad at math and science. somebody help her.

hook ups ?? fwbs ?? that one, rare one-night-stand that went weird ??

exes ?? she’s sorta noncommittal so idk how long they would’ve dated but like sjdfkbo yolo ?? ex hook-ups too ??

...somebody who just. hates her. but she doesn’t realize bc she’s a big ol’ idiot. she thinks theyre pals !!

let her b a thorn in someone’s side, just like, an absolute annoyance LMAO

gimme an enemy, or like an ex-best friend where something happened between them n it ruined their friendship

i will take literally anything i dont know

she steals ur character’s mail ?? ur cat keeps escaping and she keeps letting them inside even tho she’s allergic ??

one of those friendships where theyre always bickering like an old married couple ?? but it’s Purely Platonic (or is it ??)

an off-and-on again that just. it’s not good for either of them b/c they keep enabling each other and then getting pissed off and it’s a Mess but ?? it’s so hard to stop.

please. take her. give me connections.

#water:intro #drug use tw #alcoholism tw #addiction tw #abuse tw

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legion1993 · 6 years ago

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thunder like a gun shot

title: Thunder like a gun shot

kink square filled: lingerie

fluff square filled: free space (thunderstorm)

prompt: Chrysalism-the amnotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm, listening to waves pattering against the roof like an argument upstairs, whose muffled words were unintelligable but whose crackling release a built up tension you understand perfectly.

A/n: hope this fits with everything if it doesnt just let me know and ill make the changes if necessary. but if it is close please also let me know. it was hard to come up with something when i was struggling with a really bad case of writers block. i kinda just did word vomit in here. please give me feedback. if possible. thanks.

ship: Dean x reader

rating: 14+

tags: firearms, lingerie, sexy clothing, thunderstorm, cuddling in the hallway, reader wearing barely nothing.

summery (if applicable): its a surprise….

word count (if applicable):

created for @spnkinkbingo and for @thing-you-do-with-that-thing for her Spn beautiful words challenge (ps. i hope this works...) & @spnfluffbingo

spn kink bingo masterlist spn fluff bingo masterlist

staying at bobby’s while Bobby, Dean and Sam were out hunting. thats fine bobby said you could organize and put away the books and things.

while doing so it was very warm inside. rumsfeld had always stayed near by, for he could tell you missed Dean. Dean and you had been together for several years. this was how you spent time when you thought it best you stayed back.

after all spending every day hunting was not without perks, for instance getting to chop heads, shoot things, etc. but sometimes you wanted to let Dean have fun with the guys.

amidst putting away the books and boxes you found one of the cursed boxes was open. you picked it up and placed it on the desk. immediately you dialed bobby.

Bobby: “Y/N..”

Y/N: “bobby did you or the guys go into a cursed box?”

Bobby yells at the boys who swear up and down that neither of them did. so he comes back to you.

Bobby: “none of us did, why do ya ask kiddo?”

Y/N: “cause there was one open unsealed on the ground.”

Bobby: “whats the box number?”

Y/N: “5386.”

you could hear bobby on the other end yell Son of a Bitch...

Bobby: “Y/N kiddo listen to me, a while back John and i had trapped something real bad in that very box, it is a demon, but this one is powerful, like it comes with its own meatsuit. you need to get it down long enough for you to exorcise it back into the pit or use that cursed box.”

Y/N: “can it be harmed by bullets?”

Bobby: “it can but you would have to unload half a clip into it in order for it to stay down for a longer period of time than that of 1 minute."

there was nothing you hadnt considered. but the thought of hunting in lingerie had you hot and bothered.

you pulled out your hand gun and cocked it but not before checking to make sure you had a full cartridge of bullets.

Y/N: “don’t you guys worry ill take care of whatever the hell this is.”

you hung up the call and threw on your overlay grabbing your gun and flashlight you started searching the house. slowly around every corner you went. but outside you heard a noise, one which brought out your most painful memories.

you knew you only had a short amount of time before you had a melt down.

elsewhere, Dean, Bobby and sam were just arriving back at the motel after completing the hunt. that of course is when Dean noticed it, the dark clouds, the looming sounds of thunder.

Dean: “shit guys we gotta head back towards Y/N she will have a breakdown if im not there during the storm.”

Sam: “goo on ahead Dean, ill ride with bobby and catch up as soon as we can.”

Bobby: “go be with your girl.”

Dean stayed in the impala while Sam went in the motel room to grab Dean’s bag bringing it out to his brother he smiled backing up as Dean reversed and sped off down the road.

meanwhile you were not aware that you were the one being stalked not you stalking the demon. it was a few moments before you heard a hiss coming from right behind you, it made you stop, you cocked your gun & dropped your flashlight. but just as the first loud house shaking thunder clap sounded you shot off 2 rounds into his arms.

that was what set him off on the war path, you ducked out of the way you had run away from him but trying to go up the stairs you felt estranged. almost like something else was also in the house.

however it was your wit and courage that made you stop in your slow ascend of the staircase, you stuck your gun thru the railing and shot off 2 more rounds into its spine.

it was then that bright bright headlights shone through the not covered windows. it was the impala, you knew those headlights anywhere but if there was ever a moment whre you were not sure of yourself and your hunting abilities it was right then.

you could then hear the door jiggling but that soon all just faded noise as you honed into your senses. they were all in overload, your hearing could only pick up the sound of what you thought to be the ever growing thunder claps that were sounding from outside.

but instead you were firing off every single bullet in both clips you had on you. that demon was down. thats when you got into a real rage, it was something that you never thought you would ever feel again.

this is something you had only experienced once before, your parents had been murdered right in front of your eyes it was a thunderstorm but you happened to be in the room at the time.

it hadnt been long before Sam and Dean had busted through your door but by that point they witnessed you killing the demon with your mind. it was not 3 minutes after that you knelt on the floor and had this blank expression on your face.

thats how your journey with the winchesters had started. but tonight was the second time you were experiencing something like this. Dean came into the view, you were now kneeling on the ground, in only your sexy lingerie with a blank expression on your face & your silence turning into soft sobs.

thunder kept roaring but the demon wasnt gone yet. your eyes went white again the cursed box was near the demon as your voice spoke the incantation to lock that asshole demon back up.

Y/N: “i invoke the cursed box, this demon shall ever more be inside. ne’er to escape nor see the light of day. christo, jesu, domni dieos audinos.”

with that your eyes went back to normal, the demon was locked back up. Dean now felt it safe to approach you. it was gonna be a rough next few hours. Dean pulling you into his grasp now held you close.

Dean: “shh its alright... shh...”

your sobs now turning into full blown streaming tears, the thunder kept cracking and all you could do was cry.

Dean didnt bother to move you from the hallway, instead he got comfy on the floor. in the middle of the hallway laying you on his chest, covering your shivering form in his embrace cause to be honest wearing that lingerie he wanted to do more than keep you warm and safe.

Dean kissed your hair and smiled.

Dean: “you look beautiful babe, relax im here.”

you guys stayed like that for quite a while till you felt strong enough to move.

~for as it turned out everytime you shot that gun at that demon, you did it to the thunder claps. after all thunderstorms have a really weird effect on people.~

#spnkinkbingo #spn beautiful words challenge #spnfluffbingo #thunderstorm #lingerie #supernatural #dean x reader

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halfhumanscribe · 6 years ago

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String Movements

Synopsis: Just a moment in the middle of the night for a few fast food workers, listening to some classical music. RATING: E (Everyone) ORIGINAL PUBLISHING DATE: 2017

Part of a writing exercise done with a friend. It was hastily written as we were timing ourselves. My own personal opinion on this writing is it comes off a bit pretentious to be honest, but it was a nice little scene to write.

WORD COUNT: 1264

Forgive any formatting issues. Review and critiques are appreciated.

String Movements by Inganno

“Have we had a customer in the past hour?” Evette asked as she pushed the mop against the dirty, shoe streaked ground.

Paul looked out the drive thru window, and saw nothing but the usual 2am traffic. He looked back at the dark-skinned woman and shook his head.

Evette sighed and rung out the mop head again, watching grey water splash into the mop bucket. She couldn’t help but cringe at the site of it. Then again, when you were being paid minimum wage, it was expected with the job.

Off by the fryers, Devon sat on a stool in the corner, his head bobbing up and down as he did his best to stay awake. Both Paul and Evette had a bet going to see if he’d eventually fall out of his stool the moment he let his guard down. A few slip ups here and there, but no head traumas yet.

Needless to say, the burger shop’s idea of extending drive-thru hours past midnight was turning out to be disaster of wasted man labor. After one drunken car of three teenagers around 1:00am, there wasn’t much else afterwards. All they could do was clean and twiddle their thumbs.

It was made worse by their store manager, who would periodically check the cameras to make sure they were doing something. He’d pitch a fit if he saw them on their phones, even though he hadn’t even worked a single night shift in over a year. Of course, that didn’t stop them from blasting music here and there.

It Paul’s night for music, much to Devon’s objections, as Paul was a music student at the local university. This meant a night of classical orchestra and symphony, which acted as the prime reason for poor Devon’s oncoming slumber. The lullabies were just too much for him.

Evette didn’t mind though. She was both their superior in age and wisdom, and had listened to a wide range of music in her time. Though she was barely past forty, she considered herself wise beyond her years, albeit a bit blunt at the same time.

“This is ridiculous,” Paul groaned. “Why are we even still here? Can’t we just close up shop and go?”

“You know Mr. Simmons would get heated if we tried,” Evette replied, following it with a yawn as she rested on the handle of the mop. “Marcus and Tiff tried that a few days ago. He bumped them off the schedule.”

This was news to Paul.

“Did they get fired?”

Evette shook her head.

“No. Just taken off for a week or two as punishment.”

“Damn…”

The idea quickly left Paul’s mind as he returned to stare blankly out onto the streets. That only lasted a few seconds before a cold chill brushed against him, and he closed the window. All he had left to keep himself entertained was his music, coupled with the occasional glance to Devon who was almost completely out.

“I think he’s gone,” Paul added.

Devon mumbled something inaudible and fumbled a bit in his stool. He wasn’t totally asleep, but he certainly had forgotten where he was.

A simple strings piece began to play on Paul’s phone, hidden under the counter and connected to an AUX speaker used to push pop music out during lobby hours. He recognized it immediately as the Largo Sostenuto movement from String Quartet no. 1 “From My Life.” Bedric Smetana ended up being the subject of an essay piece in one of his previous classes, and he found the composer was deserved of a spot in his music collection.

He took in a deep breath and let the music enter his soul, putting him at some ease. Though the strings were slow and mellow, they were brushed with powerful emotion, which ended up being the reason he wrote a “passing” essay.

He took another quick glance around the room and found a curious site to behold.

There in the middle of the room, Evette was dancing with her mop. And it wasn’t some sort of silly spins or twirls. The woman was actually performing some surprisingly complex moves with the mop handle. Paul didn’t know the exact names for some of them, but they were certainly familiar.

“Evette,” he started, “are you a dancer?”

She paused for a moment.

Paul half expected her to stop and return to cleaning, having been caught dancing when she was sure no one was watching. However, instead of embarrassment or humiliation, her face was filled with a sense of adulation – a smile spreading well across her face.

“Twenty-four years,” she answered. “Ten years or so professional on the stage.”

“You were a stage dancer?”

She nodded, slowly beginning to get back into a gradual dance with the mop.

“Not here,” she continued, setting her dance partner aside as she began a solo dance, “but back when I was living in New Orleans. I was pretty sharp on the ballet circuit there.”

Her movements were incredibly graceful, adapting to the sudden barrage of strings that burst forth from the speakers.

Paul checked on Devon after the long burst, and found the noise did nothing for the sleeping man. Back to Evette…

“What happened?” Paul asked outright, forgetting manners in his youthful curiosity. “If you danced professionally, why are you working here?”

She forgave him for such a question, so rudely asked. She had children who were a few years younger than him, so she understood the interest.

“I got old,” she explained, a tinge of sadness running across her face. “These bones just couldn’t keep up with the faster melodies anymore, so I ended up retiring. It’s more common than you think in the dance profession.”

He wasn’t surprised to hear that. It was one of those careers where age meant more than most knew, and that the end usually came sooner than later. Still, it didn’t answer his question.

“As for why I’m here,” Evette continued, “why not?”

She shot a glare at the pale boy, which shut him up. The best way to describe it was the “mom stare” which put any child in their place, no matter the age. Perhaps it was best to drop the subject then.

“Sorry,” Paul quickly apologized. He then noticed the song was coming to its closing minute and tried to salvage the moment. “Don’t let me stop you though. I just think you’re really good, is all.”

“Well thank you,” she said with a nod, continuing her movement.

The two remained silent as Paul watched the woman prance happily to the sound of the strings. For a moment, he wandered what kind of woman she was in her youth. He thought of her dancing to a sold out crowd, everyone coming to see her, playing to the likes of Beethoven, Schubert, and Rachmaninoff.

If anything, it made him want to watch her more. But the song was on its final seconds as the strings began to fall, leading to a perfect silence.

In these moments, she too finished her dance, giving a very solemn pose close to the ground. Good thing she had mopped that spot.

Paul was about to give her a round of applause, feeling like she truly deserved it, having performed exclusively for him. Before he could get a clap in, he was brought to shock from the sound of a loud thud behind him.

All of sudden, Evette burst out laughing, while Paul whipped around.

“There we go,” he muttered as Devon was slowly picking himself up off the floor – the fallen stool next to him.

#ing's stories #fiction #short story #writing

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