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thelittlestcheshire · 4 years ago

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if it weren't for you meddling kids...

A collection of seven playlists about my character’s inner-muse dynamics with one another.

playlist i: you’ll always be the one i love the most

a general balo and ches playlist

team (lorde) [not very pretty, but we sure know how to run things. livin' in ruins of a palace within my dreams. and you know, we're on each other's team] // drag me down (one direction) [all my life, you stood by me when no one else was ever behind me. all these lights, they can't blind me, with your love, nobody can drag me down] // brave honest beautiful ( fifth harmony ft. meghan trainor ) [don't go and waste your precious time, with all the nonsense on your mind. no, don't criticize yourself no more, you got a smile worth fighting for] // told you so (little mix) [girl, just come 'round mine tonight i've got wine and make-up wipes. i'll hold you (i'll hold you),. we can put the kettle on, talk 'bout how he's not the one. i told you but, i'm never gonna say i told you so] // friends (jasmine thompson) [who knows, who cares what we're gonna be. if you're near, i'm there. it will always be home, wherever we go.] // we belong (pat benatar) [we belong to the light, we belong to the thunder. we belong to the sound of the words, we've both fallen under. whatever we deny or embrace, for worse or for better; we belong, we belong, we belong together.] // safe & sound (taylor swift ft. the civil wars) [i remember tears streaming down your face when i said i'll never let you go. when all those shadows almost killed your light. i remember you said, “don't leave me here alone.” but all that's dead and gone and passed tonight] // buzzcut season (lorde) [cola with the burnt-out taste, i'm the one you tell your fears to. there'll never be enough of us] // unsteady (x ambassadors) [if you love me, don't let go. hold, hold on, hold on to me ‘cause i'm a little unsteady, a little unsteady] // i’ll keep you safe (sleeping at last) [don't be, don't be afraid. god knows, these mistakes will be made, but i promise you i'll keep you safe] // tell her you love her - acoustic (echosmith) [when she says she needs you, tell her you need her too. you tell her clearly, speak what your heart wants you to. tell her she's lovely, always tell her the truth. when she says she loves you, tell her you love her too] // nightingale (demi lovato) [oh, nightingale, you sing to me i know you're there. 'cause, baby, you're my sanity. you bring me peace, sing me to sleep] // deep end (ruelle) [what can i do when it's pulling me under, pulling me underneath?] // hold your breath (ruelle) [hold your breath, don't let go. i feel it coming] // my love won’t let you down (little mix) [we can sit on the edge of your bed, tell me all of the fears in your head. and i'll sing you your favourite song ‘til the pain and all the tears are all gone] // rainbow connection (sleeping at last) [have you been half asleep and have you heard voices? i've heard them calling my name. is this the sweet sound that calls the young sailors? the voice might be one and the same.]

playlist ii: #squadgoals (aka balo and ches are sharing the aux):

8+ hours of music the girls listen to when they hang out, please remember to shuffle!

playlist iii: and if you were drowned at sea i’d give you my lungs so you could breathe

a general balo and zander playlist

shaking heads (foxes) [and if i turn around, there'll be no light. i know the danger, but it's alright. pick up the light and keep it, darling. you know that i can tell] // bottom of the river (delta rae) [hold my hand, ooh, baby, it's a long way down to the bottom of the river] // hey brother (avicii) [hey, brother; do you still believe in one another? hey, sister; do you still believe in love? i wonder.] // i hope you dance (lee ann womack) [i hope you still feel small when you stand beside the ocean. whenever one door closes, i hope one more opens. promise me that you'll give faith a fighting chance...] // my wish (rascal flatts) [i hope you never look back but you never forget all the ones who love you and the place you left. i hope you always forgive and you never regret, and you help somebody every chance you get.] // echo (foxes) [look into my eyes, do you see something to defend? spinning in the lights, will i grow old before i die?] // brother (kodaline) [if i was dying on my knees, you would be the one to rescue me. and if you were drowned at sea i'd give you my lungs so you could breathe] // get your wish (porter robinson) [so tell me how it felt when you walked on water, did you get your wish? floating to the surface, quicker than you sank. idol, idol] // icu {madison’s lullaby} (demi lovato) [sometimes i can see myself in the little things you do but i'm not afraid that you'll lose your way. 'cause i believe in you. you're gonna be the one who's strong enough, who can overcome, anything in your way]

playlist iv: i’m afraid of what i’m risking if i follow you

a general ches and zander playlist

into the unknown (panic at the disco) [what do you want? 'cause you've been keeping me awake. are you here to distract me so i make a big mistake? or are you someone out there who's a little bit like me, who knows deep down i'm not where i'm meant to be?] // carry you (ruelle & fleurie) [you are not alone, i've been here the whole time singing you a song. i will carry you] // bud like you (ajr) [kickin' in the basement, kickin' in the basement, hatin' all the same things too. if i need a pick-me-up, would you come and pick me up? i could really use a bud like you] // wilson {expensive mistakes} (fall out boy) [and when i say i'm sorry i'm late, i wasn't showing up at all. i really mean i didn't plan on showing up at all. don't you, don't you, don't you know i hate all my friends, i miss the days when i pretended. i hate all my friends, i miss the days when i pretended with you] // unpack your heart (philip philips) [show me something the rest never see. give me all that you hope to receive, your deepest regret dies with me] // where do you run (the score) [where do you run when you need to breathe? where do you run when you don't believe? where do you run when you can't face your fears? 'cause every time i run, i run to you] // twin skeleton’s {hotel in nyc} (fall out boy) [and there's a jet black crow droning on and on and on; up above our heads droning on and on and on. keep making trouble 'til you find what you love. i need a new partner in crime and you, you shrug] // maybe idk (jon bellion) [i wonder why i feel short when i know my money’s tall. i wonder why i miss everyone and i still don’t call. i wonder why i can’t run that fast in my dreams] // you are enough (sleeping at last) [you're enough, you're enough, you're enough, you are enough. these little words, somehow they’re changing us. you're enough, you're enough, you are enough. so we let our shadows fall away like dust] // midnight sun (philip philips) [oh my friend, look how time has changed the cracks in our skin. oh my friend, let go of the fear that’s inside your head. so stay strong, live on, and chase the midnight sun]

playlist v: beyond every bend is a long blinding end; the worst kind of pain i’ve known

a ches and zander playlist set during the aftermath of the jack posters with an alternating pov (track 2 is zander, track 3 is ches, etc etc. tracks 1 and tracks 12 are mutual)

the choice (gustavo santaolalla & alan umstead) // burning in the skies (linkin park) [i'm swimming in the smoke of bridges i have burned, so don't apologize i'm losing what i don't deserve] // the good in me (jon bellion) [one temptation sparked this, now i can feel the darkness. it's my own fault, but you had this planned. all of me, you take now, like criminals and shakedowns, yeah, you make me forget who i am] // another brick in the wall, prt. 3 (pink floyd) [i don't need no arms around me and i don't need no drugs to calm me. i have seen the writing on the wall, don't think i need anything at all] // bad blood (taylor swift) [did you think we'd be fine? still got scars in my back from your knives. so don't think it's in the past, these kinds of wounds they last and they last] // no light, no light (florence + the machine) [and i'd do anything to make you stay. no light, no light, no light. tell me what you want me to say. you want a revelation, you wanna get it right. but it's a conversation, i just can't have tonight...] // that won’t save us (against the current) [how did we become so numb? we just let it come undone, and i just started giving up. but that won't save us] // hard to say i’m sorry (chicago) [it's hard for me to say i'm sorry. i just want you to stay. after all that we've been through i will make it up to you, i promise to] // believe (mumford & sons) [i don't even know if i believe everything you're trying to say to me] // second chances (imagine dragons) [quicker than lightning, whiter than bone. if you can erase it, then i can atone. oh these days, oh these days get heavy. i get older and life fades, but you remain] // swallow my pride (ramones) [loose lips sink ships, they said but isn't it always that way? swallow my pride, oh yeah] // roads untravelled (linkin park) [weep not for roads untraveled, weep not for sights unseen. may your love never end, and if you need a friend there's a seat here alongside me]

playlist vi: it’s mourning in america

a playlist for the luxor trio - balo, ches, and zander

heathens (twenty one pilots) [we don't deal with outsiders very well, they say newcomers have a certain smell. you have trust issues, not to mention, they say they can smell your intentions] // morning in america (jon bellion) [we're secretly out of control, nobody says it. when the class president overdosed, we all pretended tt was rare, it was shocking and all the town was talking. yeah, we're secretly out of control and everyone knows. oh, it's morning in america] // the kids aren’t alright (fall out boy) [and in the end, i'd do it all again. i think you're my best friend. don't you know that the kids aren't al-, kids aren't alright?] // more than words (little mix & kamille) [i find peace in every story you told, i think of you, i'll never be alone. oh, it's true, you know i do. oh, i need you more than words can say. oh, you save me in ways that i can't explain. always been there for me, now i'll do the same] // family (mother mother) [and when you’re standing on the ledge i’ll pull ya down, put you to bed. and if you’re bleeding from the heart i'll come around, and clean it up] // beautiful people (ed sheeran & khalid) [we don't fit in well 'cause we are just ourselves, i could use some help gettin' out of this conversation, yeah. you look stunning, dear, so don't ask that question here. this is my only fear: that we become beautiful people] // immortals (fall out boy) [they say we are what we are but we don't have to be. i'm bad behavior but i do it in the best way. i'll be the watcher of the eternal flame, i'll be the guard dog of all your fever dreams. i am the sand in the bottom half of the hourglass, i try to picture me without you but i can't] // family (the chainsmokers & kygo) [when i am blind, in my mind i swear they be my rescue, my lifeline. i don't know what i'd do if i, if i'd survive my brothers and my sisters in my life, yeah] // walking the wire (imagine dragons) [oh, the storm is ragin' against us now. if you're afraid of falling, then don't look down. but we took the step, oh, we took the leap and we'll take what comes, take what comes] // take it out on you (ruelle) [i don’t wanna take it out, take it out on you, on you. it feels like i'm breaking down, watching my words cut you in two, in two. 'cause you are the only who saves me from myself when everything is caving. don’t wanna take it out, take it out on you, on you, but i do] // from now on (the greatest showman) [and from now on these eyes will not be blinded by the lights. from now on what's waited 'til tomorrow starts tonight. and let this promise in me start, like an anthem in my heart] // long live (taylor swift) [can you take a moment? promise me this: that you'll stand by me forever, but if god forbid fate should step in and force us into a goodbye. if you have children someday, when they point to the pictures, please tell them my name] // i hope you’re happy (blue october) [there will be days when you're falling down, there will be days when you're inside out. there will be days when you fall apart, someone else will break your heart. they're never gonna hold you back, i'm always gonna have your back so try to remember that...]

playlist vii: those meddling kids

a playlist for balo, ches, collen, and zander - and their friendship

on my way (phil collins) ['cause there's nothing like seeing each other again, no matter what the distance between. and the stories that we tell will make you smile, oh it really lifts my heart], more than a band (lemonade mouth) [i never knew you could take me so far. i've always wanted the home that you are, the ones i need] // i lived (onerepublic) [hope that you spend your days but they all add up and when that sun goes down hope you raise your cup. i wish that i could witness all your joy and all your pain, but until my moment comes, i'll say...] // i’m gonna be {500 miles} (the pretenders) [if i get drunk, well, i know i'm gonna be the man who gets drunk next to you. and if i haver, yeah, i know i'm gonna be i'm gonna be the man who's haverin' to you. but i would walk five hundred miles, and i would walk five hundred more just to be the man who walked a thousand miles to fall down at your door] // tongue tied (grouplove) [take me to your best friend's house, ‘goin' 'round this roundabout, oh yeah. oh, take me to your best friend's house; i loved you then and i love you now, oh yeah] // i’ll be there for you (the rembrandts) [no one could ever know me, no one could ever see me. seems you're the only one who knows what it's like to be me. someone to face the day with, make it through all the rest with. someone i'll always laugh with, even at my worst, i'm best with you, yeah] // drag me down (one direction) [if i didn't have you, there would be nothing left, the shell of a man that could never be his best. if i didn't have you, i'd never see the sun, you taught me how to be someone, yeah] // miss americana & the heartbreak prince (taylor swift) [it's you and me, that's my whole world. they whisper in the hallway, “she's a bad, bad girl.” the whole school is rolling fake dice, you play stupid games, you win stupid prizes. it's you and me, there's nothing like this, miss americana and the heartbreak prince. we're so sad, we paint the town blue, voted most likely to run away with you] // sharp edges (linkin park) [sharp edges have consequences, i guess that i had to find out for myself. sharp edges have consequences, now every scar is a story i can tell. we all fall down, we live somehow. we learn what doesn't kill us makes us stronger] // family (mother mother) [a motley crew, a rodeo. a goddamn zoo, a circus show. but oh don't you know how it goes, we are all walking each other home] // the story of tonight (hamilton) [raise a glass to freedom, something they can never take away - no matter what they tell you. raise a glass to the four of us, tomorrow there’ll be more of us - telling the story of tonight.]

#I debated if I should wait or not #because this was legit the post I was working on today when the admin note came up #but... have the meddling kids playlists #all of my heroes died all alone ( musings )#all you cool people better leave now 'cause it's about to happen ( balo | zander )#musings ( playlists )#musings ( friends )#I'mma reblog it to the other two in a more spaced out manner but yeah

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agonydearest · 5 years ago

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Coffee Shops and Candid Shots - Tyril Starfury x M!MC

Ok, I’m low-key blaming @lxdy-starfury for this one because I was scrolling through my newsfeed minding my own business when I saw this and started having thoughts. I romanced Mal in my playthrough, but I really liked Tyril and her Modern!AU was so damn cute that I had to write a little something! Her work and especially the art 😉 is amazing, and I hope I do her version of the character justice.

Also, here’s my BOLAS MC, Marcellus, just to give you guys a visual. He’s flirty, cocky, reckless, and a bit of a dumbass, but he’s got a good heart and is fiercely protective of the people he cares about (especially Nia, who’s like a little sister to him). In this fic, he’s wearing this.

Marcellus Raine considered himself the luckiest guy in the world to somehow land a man like Tyril Starfury. Some days he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. The guy could have anybody he wanted, but he chose to go out with a scruffy troublemaker from tiny old Riverbend.

He kept musing on it for just a few seconds as he watched his boyfriend through the glass window of the coffee shop where they met. Tyril sat with Marcellus’ best friend Nia, who was taking Instagram shots if he had to guess (she was always taking pictures of everyone) but he couldn’t take his eyes off Tyril. He was totally oblivious to his arrival, head propped up on his hand and elbow as he read another of his books. Somehow he looked delectable completely covered in a turtleneck and dress pants, his beloved Burberry coat hanging over one shoulder and his long luscious hair falling in a curtain to shield him from prying eyes.

After taking a deep breath, Marcellus opened the door, trying to remember to breathe. With his heart going what felt like a million miles an hour, he pressed a finger to his lips to quiet Nia, but it was impossible to hide her excitement as her best friend walked into the cafe. Tyril unfortunately noticed her change in expression, but it didn't matter because as soon as he turned and saw Marcellus, his face broke out into a radiant smile. “What are you doing here? I thought you wanted to meet for dinner?”

“Wanted to surprise you.” Marcellus said as he gave his boyfriend a kiss on the cheek.

They met a few months ago through Nia when she dragged Tyril out one night to see some live music at the same cafe where they were sitting. Marcellus was Nia’s best friend. He was a musician and played in a rock band with Mal Volari and Imtura Tal Kaelen. Nia introduced them after one of their shows, but it wasn’t until she set them both up on a blind date several weeks later that they really clicked. They say opposites attract, and in their case, it was definitely true.

“So what are you drinking?” Tyril asked as Marcellus sat down at their table. He was putting his book in the bag he carried and taking out his credit card as Marcellus shook his head.

“Babe, I told you - I’m not letting you buy me coffee every time we come here!”

The beautiful man pouted, though if anyone pointed it out, he would deny it wholeheartedly. “And I told you that might be considered insulting.”

“I know you better than that. And I can pay for my own coffee once in a while, you know.”

“Will you please just let me spoil you?”

Marcellus sighed, knowing that arguing was pointless. Tyril loved taking care of him, even if it was buying him stuff. Marcellus grew up poor and struggled to make ends meet before he moved to Whitetower. Tyril knew this and insisted on treating him a lot of the time. He had to get used to the fact that it was part of Tyril’s love language. “Alright fine! One plain black coffee with sugar and cinnamon, please.”

The corners of Tyril’s mouth curled into a sweet smile. “Anything you want.”

As he walked to the counter and left Marcellus alone with Nia, Tyril had no idea that his boyfriend’s hands were shaking slightly, one just sitting in the pocket of his favorite leather jacket and running his fingers over the box inside. The other hand pinched the bridge of his nose. “If I have a heart attack from the caffeine, I swear to God, I’m going to be pissed.” he said.

Nia looked at him in sympathy. She was the only one he had told - in fact she helped him pick the gift out in the first place. “Are you really that nervous?”

“I haven’t had any coffee all day. What do you think?”

“Marcellus, you know he’s going to love it!” She kept her voice low, despite her obvious excitement, and took a sip of her iced latte. Marcellus just kept his eyes on Tyril, not that he could ever look away.

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

Marcellus grinned as Tyril came back to the table with his order. For some reason, he seemed uncharacteristically nervous when he took the cup and thanked him, but Tyril didn’t have long to question it.

Nia slung her purse over her shoulder and smiled so brightly that it could eclipse the sun. “I’ll leave you boys alone.” As she picked up her half finished cup, she said, “Are we still going shopping tomorrow, Tyril?”

He nodded. “Of course. I’ll pick you up at noon.”

A nod, and then she spun on her cork wedge heels and addressed the man across from Tyril, “And Marcellus! I’ll expect details later.” Confusion set in and he tried to ask what she was talking about, but Nia was already out the door in a swish of skirt in her lavender sundress.

With a shrug of his shoulders, Tyril sat down and got a good look at his boyfriend for the first time. He was simply staring at the steaming mug in front of him as though it had offended him. It was a strange sight to see; normally Marcellus was confident in everything he did, but not today. Something was wrong and he knew it as sure as the knot forming in his stomach. “Aren’t you going to drink it?” Tyril asked.

Marcellus shook his head. “Not right now.” He sighed and leaned forward, one hand still in his jacket pocket. There was a sheen of sweat on his forehead. “Look,” he said, “I have something for you. That’s why I’m here. I couldn’t wait.”

When he placed the small white box on the table in front of him, Tyril was sure he was dreaming. There was no way on earth! His eyes grew so wide he was surprised that they didn’t fall out of their sockets. “I...what? Marcellus, I’m not...!”

Marcellus grinned and laughed, “Relax! I'm not asking you to marry me. That’s not what this is.”

After a moment of silence, his heartbeat pounding in his ears and his cheeks burning, Tyril opened the box and gasped at the contents. “You got me a...”

“A promise ring.” Marcellus confirmed, “I wanted a way to show you just how committed I am to this relationship and to you.”

“Are you sure?” Tyril did not mean for his voice to rise so high. Thankfully everyone around them seemed to be going about their day without even noticing the two men. He whispered discreetly, “We haven’t even slept together yet.”

“And we won’t until you’re ready, babe. That’s why I did this. You told me you were insecure, do you remember that? This is me telling you that you don’t have to be.”

He did remember telling Marcellus after a few glasses of wine on their third date that he had never been with anyone intimately, never trusted anyone enough to take that step. After Kaya’s death, he wasn’t sure if he could deal with the thought of letting someone in that close for fear of losing them; he knew he couldn’t go through that pain again. And Marcellus had already had several partners by the time Tyril met him. What if he got tired of waiting for Tyril, or he got bored with him and left? Not only did he dread the heartbreak of it all, but he didn’t need the media to be plastering it all over the place as a haunting reminder for him to relive everywhere he looked.

“Ty, will you please look at me?” He did, meeting the gaze of those dark eyes that he had grown so fond of in the last few months. “I love you, Tyril, and I know you love me, too. I get it - we haven’t been dating long and you’re scared. That’s ok. I only got this as a reminder that you don’t need to be scared with me. I’m in this for the long haul.”

Tyril was speechless. Tears threatened to spill over, but he did his best to blink them back as he stared at the stunning ring in front of him. He heard his boyfriend chuckle nervously, “Please say something.”

“I don’t know what to say.” he replied, “I’m just shocked. I wasn’t expecting...”

“For a guy like me to have a sentimental side?” Marcellus said with his usual crooked smirk.

“I suppose, yes.” he said, “I can’t believe you did this! Nobody has ever done something like this for me.”

Marcellus reached across the table and placed his hand on top of Tyril’s to lace their fingers together. Looking deep into his eyes as though they were part of one of Nia’s romance novels, he asked, “So do I have permission to officially take you off the market?”

Tyril snorted, but he couldn’t hide his happiness. “I’m not a prized painting at an auction, Marcellus. But yes.”

Marcellus leaned back in his seat and combed his fingers through his hair, laughing in relief. “Oh thank God! You have no idea how much I was sweating that one. I wanna kiss you. Can I kiss you? Is that alright?”

“If you stop talking.” With a pearly white grin that reminded him of a cat, Marcellus leaned forward to cup his cheek, which Tyril leaned into as their lips met. Tyril couldn’t imagine being any happier in the moment. It just wasn’t possible.

And then Marcellus stopped kissing him and said teasingly, “You know you’re cute when you're flustered.” Tyril kissed him again to shut him up.

This is the ring Marcellus gives him, just to give you guys a visual. I really had a good time writing this and hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

#tyril starfury #tyril x mc #male mc #Marcellus Raine is mine please don't use him #bolas #Blades of light and shadow #nia ellarious #modern blades au

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marlacrane · 5 years ago

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『COURTNEY EATON ❙ CIS FEMALE』 ⟿ looks like MARLA CRANE is here for HER JUNIOR year as a JOURNALISM student. she is 22 years old & known to be inventive, dogged, heedless & blunt. They’re living in GORHAM, so if you’re there, watch out for them. ⬳ mia. 23. pt. she/her.

[without me by eminem plays muffled from the next room as marla wanders thru the door w a mickey of vodka in her left hand and the communist manifesto in her right]

tws for drug use, mental illness

history

she has a happy childhood in a seattle suburb. she’s the youngest of two girls, and even though her mom works all the time, and her dad’s overseas, everything’s fine. until marla gets to second grade, which she hates, gets into a fight with a boy, and nearly bites his finger off. this time she gets off with a warning. then, later that week, said boy and her are working on this paper maché duck together, and the teacher's keeping an eye on them at first but has now dismissed them as totally getting along, and then the teacher glances at them again to find that they have vanished, and so have the art supplies. the two of them are found six hours later hiding in a park. they’ve been hanging out there all day, asking for a quarter from each unsuspecting parent or guardian they’ve seen. they’ve used this to buy as much food from the community centre vending machine as they can carry. their goal: wait until their parents are sleeping, steal the tent from marla’s backyard, and go live in the treehouse in his backyard. upon discovery, they’re both grounded for a month. marla is no longer allowed to read calvin and hobbes –– her mom is pretty sure it’s what inspired the escape attempt.

she and this boy, whose name is jasper, regroup once they’ve been ungrounded. jasper and her are both the sort of kids who bite their nails at the sign of a group project. their fight had been over who got to read the classroom’s only calvin and hobbes anthology. their initial truce had been based entirely around a mutual desire for treehouse living. now, they just want insurance. so they agree to partner up, always.

they’re bad influences on each other. apart, they’re both a little feral, sure, but they understand that certain things are not possible, and they avoid danger if they can help it. when they hang out, though, they egg each other on. jasper breaks his arm because marla dares him to climb the school; marla’s suspended after jasper dares her to pull the fire alarm; jasper and marla accidentally burn down a garden shed; jasper and marla scam five people out of their lunch money so they can go see a movie after school. (they pay them back a week later. they’re not total monsters. also, they were getting scared one of the kids was gonna tell on them).

jasper’s parents are moving. jasper’s moving with them, out to the country. marla hates it, but she steels herself. she can be independent. she’s nearly sixteen now, and it’s about time she started. but she’s going to miss him. he tells her that nothing’s going to change, which she tells him is bullshit. he takes this the wrong way, and they stop speaking to each other. this goes on for five months. marla’s lonely at first –– she doesn’t know how to talk to people who aren’t him. she starts dating this guy, and that opens things up a little bit. he introduces her to his friends, and suddenly she doesn’t feel as wild. she’s no longer a product of the outskirts.

one night she thinks fuck it, that’s enough silence. she sneaks out at one am, texting jasper to meet her halfway. she borrows her sister’s car. marla figures she practically knows how to drive. she’s done it a few times. and, to her credit, she makes it to where she and jasper are meeting. she also wraps the car around a pole. she emerges relatively unharmed, and she panics. jasper doesn’t show up. he texts to tell her he got caught trying to leave. she calls him an idiot. then she waits there, arms crossed, incapable of doing anything but dreading consequences, until it’s nearly morning. that’s when a cop drives by and the process of being in trouble begins. it’s a clusterfuck. this is when her sister stops speaking to her –– marla’s been on thin ice with her for a long time, but now it’s over. it isn’t so much that her sister wants to hold a grudge. it’s just finally too much. and marla gets it. for once, she doesn’t try and change things, or slip out of trouble. that doesn’t mean she doesn’t get into a number of shouting matches with her mom. her phone is taken away, as is all of her money, which goes toward buying her sister a new car. her laptop is sold in the name of the new car too. she can use the family computer if schoolwork absolutely demands internet access.

she hasn’t heard from jasper in a long time. her now ex boyfriend is still sort of a friend, but not the kind she can hang out with. there was one girl she really got along with at their school, but they made out at a party and the next day the girl wouldn’t really look her in the eyes. she turns seventeen, the birthday celebrated more or less alone, and does a little stint in juvie for keying a teacher’s car. she then spends a year at a community college, followed by radcliffe. she picks radcliffe because she’s accepted, and because it’s far from home. being at home fills her with this sick feeling now –– something went bad somewhere along the way, and she’s pretty sure it was her that made the wrong turn at the crossroads. not her mom, not jasper, not anyone else that had power over her life. and she won’t reach out to her friend, or to her sister, because that would mean admitting she cares more than they do.

she sort of wishes she could go back to being a careful person. she wants to understand boundaries. she also wants her life to have a purpose, and she likes writing, and she’s always loved nancy drew, but being a detective would’ve meant being a cop and she'd genuinely rather die, so she’s gone for journalism. she’s not loving the university experience, but it’s better than before, and it’s provided a lot of distractions that she’s grateful for.

headcanons / personality :

she can be a little abrasive.

she smokes weed whenever she can afford it, because if she doesn’t she tends toward feeling depressed and highly uninspired. she carries this apathy with her, and then every once in a while she’ll snap, and either get a lot better or a lot worse. klonopin is her best friend now.

she’s 100% a leftist and the way to her heart at this point is through communism memes. she’s slowly but surely making her way through the works of karl marx. she’d probably be done by now, but she keeps reading romance novels instead. (this is also a secret. she reads them on her phone and deletes them the moment she’s done so that nobody can know).

she lives to pirate movies, but claims that the only movie she’s ever seen is showgirls. this is because she dated a film major during her first year of college and found him so insufferable that she’s decided nobody can ever know she watches movies. she gets that he was just a jackass, and she shouldn’t judge anyone by their major, and yet................ that said, she has a secret letterboxd account (when she made it, she found her ex’s account and blocked him, just in case) and on it there’s a list of films in which richard nixon gets punched in the face.

deep down she’s actually very sentimental and sensitive, which is why she worked so hard to Not Be That growing up. she does her very best to never show that side of herself –– if someone sees her crying she’s just gotta kill them ! those are the rules. and after a while it got more and more difficult to actually access that side of herself. when she cries, it’s an Event.

she’s always broke. she’s also somehow always capable of scraping together exactly enough money to go out.

she knows that if jasper contacted her now, even after the years of radio silence, she’d do anything for him. they’re still friends, even if that friendship only exists in her memories. she realizes she could text him, but that would violate her strict double texting rules. and she’s afraid to.

she definitely makes bad decisions while drunk. like, all the time. speaking of which, she’s up for anything ! wanna attempt to summon a demon at 3 am? she’s ur girl ! wanna break into someone’s house and move all of the furniture over by about an inch before stealing away into the night? she’s already there !

she’s actually a good listener, which is one of the only positive traits she credits herself with. that, and creativity.

she’s a taurus but like . there is almost definitely some pisces / scorpio / sagittarius on her chart

she can play piano. she’s actually pretty good at it. or she was, back when she had access to pianos.

she really really really really really really wants a dog but there is no way in hell she can afford one

she’s bisexual

wanted connections :

(i mean. i will love anything, but....)

exes – whether they dated for a while or just hooked up once or twice tbh

enemies – these are easy because marla often does not consider consequences, so she could easily have done smth :/ to ur muse

friends – pls ! she needs them

unrequited crush – on her part, probably ? maybe they’re friends and she doesn’t wanna fuck that up but she’s starting to care about them in a different way. I Love Repression. what a good trope.

if anyone’s down for spontaneous tattoos............ she loves those (@chase hi, hello, come here)

a good influence would be fantastic

anyone else from seattle / the seattle area who maybe knew her in passing

um i really want this

#radintro #drug use /#mental illness /#alcohol /#i didnt proofread this i just . replaced 'isla' w 'marla' and thats it. same intro

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overthedub · 5 years ago

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Gorillaz Fic Recs Part 1

Today’s a day all about love, and I just feel like there isn’t a whole lot of love shown towards the fanfic side of this fandom. Hopefully my haphazard rec list can fix that.

A lot of fics on this list (though certainly not all) feature Murdoc as the main character (because I love him lol), so if you hate him, maybe skip over this rec list.

Got a good mix of family fics, angst, and other stuff, so take your pick.

(Part 2 incoming)

Family Fics

Things They Don’t Understand by Ferrenbach

Summary: Murdoc is the most real person in the world, but it's hard to make people understand when he doesn't have the words.

Rating: Teen

BOOOIIII this fic. THIS fic right here is my jam. I absolutely adore it to bits, and whenever I’m lacking inspiration to write for my own fic, I go and revisit it.

The poetic style, the deep characterizations of both Murdoc and 2-D, just everything about this fic is so damn good, my dudes. Holy shit, I cannot recommend this one-shot enough.

Worlds Infinite by Ferrenbach

Summary:

Murdoc goes looking for 2-D, who can only take so much party noise. He can also only take so much alcohol before turning into an armchair philosopher. Murdoc is more practical. There's no sense in musing on "what-ifs" after all, is there?

Rating: Gen

Yet another great piece from Ferrenbach. I’ve been meaning to delve into their other fics, too, but so far I’ve only had time to read a couple of their one-shots.

I adore the atmosphere of this fic, and the descriptions and characterizatons of Murdoc and 2-D are just as amazing as in Things They Don’t Understand.

The Gunpowder Princess by ghoullly

Summary:

A runaway princess with a gun on her back

A man with raven's wings and a bird's skull atop his head.

A giant man with long legs and the biggest heart she'd ever seen (figuratively and literally).

A man with a ghost between his ears and the ability to sway the elements with his mood.

One man is mute, one man is blind, and one man is deaf.

A ragtag group of misfits band together to travel to the edge of Japan to help the young heiress escape her planned assassination. They quickly realize that it's not as easy as it sounds, especially with some dangerous people following close behind.

Rating: Mature

I haven’t had the chance to catch up with this fic in a while (and it’s unfinished), but I adore this AU to bits. Japanese folklore AND found family dynamic? Yes, please.

return address by beepboopwriting

Summary:

Even evil has loved ones.

Sometimes, evil sends said loved ones letters written in nasty ink and addressed from a high security prison.

Loved one replies. She replies a lot.

Rating: Teen

This one makes me wanna cry, man. Murdoc and Noodle’s father-daughter relationship was one of the reasons I joined this fandom in the first place, and this Phase 5 fic does NOT disappoint. My heart aaaaah

Horse With No Name by Invader Sam

Summary:

Another one-shot Gorillaz fic, this time set during their first US tour. Noodle is plagued with nightmares and Murdoc, fearing it may be affecting her performance in the band, decides to 'handle it'. :) Rated for one or two curse words.

Rating: Teen

This is a really cute Phase 1 Murdad one-shot that made me smile a lot.

Sleepover by vinnie2757

Summary: 'Is this "Everybody Crawls into Murdoc's Bed Night" and I wasn't informed?’

Rating: K

Another cute Phase 1 one-shot where both Noodle and 2-D have nightmares and sneak into Murdoc’s bed to talk to him about it like the kids they are, much to his weary dismay.

Snapshots by vinnie2757

Summary:

The early years are full of the soft moments, the easy smiles and piggybacks, the laughter and the supportive hands behind backs. [A collection of moments from a time when Gorillaz were happy.]

Rating: K+

This one-shot collection spans across multiple phases and is an all-around nice time. No drama, no angst, just Gorillaz being a family. :D

You Are Now Entering The Harmonic World... by OceanBacon23

Summary:

A collection of little scenes. Each deals with a certain song by Gorillaz, and you might need to know each song before you can read the story.

No archive warnings apply. ADDITIONAL WARNINGS MAY BE PLACED IN AUTHORS' NOTES.

Rating: Gen

I haven’t read all the one-shots in this collection yet, but it’s nice to take a peek into these song creation moments the band members get up to here.

The Apology by eyedentification

Summary: Murdoc makes amends. (My own take on a common Gorillaz fanfic trope.)

Rating: Mature

This is more a comedy one-shot than a family one. I’m not exaggerating when I say I yelled at this Phase 4 fic lmao. I won’t spoil anything other than the fact that this is just Peak Murdoc™.

Press, Release by ratbat

Summary:

Privacy is something you trade for fame, Murdoc knew that, but there's always something personal you hope to cling to, something to keep for yourself.

Now if only the fucking media and their hack lackeys would quit acting like that belonged to them too.

Rating: Teen

This is a great Phase 1 fic focusing on Murdoc’s own battle with internalized homophobia after the media tries to rip his coming out away from him in an interview.

This fic does have some slurs in it, courtesy of Murdoc’s own foul mouth and internalized hatred, but do read this one if you’re okay reading that sort of thing.

What Are We Going to Do? by Close_enough_to_lose

Summary:

Murdoc notices that Noodle looks embarrassed while handing 2D the lyric sheet for Every Planet We Reach Is Dead. He quickly figures out why. Luckily, it’s one thing he’s equipped to deal with.

Or,

Murdoc finds out Noodle is bi and gives her his advice.

Rating: Teen

More Murdoc being a good dad to Noodle. :D Just a bi dad giving his bi daughter (actually good) advice.

2D is Weird by alexisntedgy

Summary:

2D has always been a little different. Or, other people always thought he was. But when people keep telling someone that they're weird, it starts to get to you.

Or, 2D is autistic and has a panic attack because of his ~issues~.

TW for internalized ableism, panic attacks, and general ableism. Any other TWs in the notes.

Rating: Teen

I also have a headcanon that 2-D is autistic, and I like how this fic portrays how he struggles with his and other people’s perceptions of it and him. Noodle’s also being a good sister to him here, so that’s a plus.

Just Another Girl by alexisntedgy

Summary:

Noodle is a girl. She knows that. The only problem is, the rest of the world doesn't know it.

Rated T for Murdoc

Basically just trans Noodle. I love her she's gr8 :))

Rating: Teen

I haven’t caught up with this fic all the way through yet either, but the chapters I have read are super cute and wholesome and full of Gorillaz family-bonding. :3

Angst Fics

Pretending by FleetRed

Summary: After a casual hookup, Stu imagines what it would be like if it were something more.

Rating: Teen

I adore the many character study fics in this fandom, and this one is no exception. It’s a great insight into 2-D’s romantic mind.

The Selfish Giant by fashionpixiez

Summary:

YOU ARE MURDOC NICCALS, AND YOU ARE EMPTY.

No, no. Don’t tell me you’re not. You’re empty, aren’t you ? A vessel. But you aren’t the kind of vessel that wants to be filled, are you? No. You reach out to people and you touch their hearts and you burn them, because you want them to feel some of that burning emptiness too. that’s all you’re good for. (It’s like it’s all you’ve ever known.)

Rating: Teen

This fic hurts my heart, but damn is it good. The descriptions of Murdoc’s feelings and his past are so poignant here, I just want to hug him.

Other Murdoc-Related Fics

Tattoos by HowlingMisfit

Summary: There's a reason why Murdoc doesn't have them anymore. (Rated for: Major character "death", Gore, Blood, Nudity and Murdoc.)

Rating: Mature

This is a horror/supernatural one-shot that (to me at least) is more comedic than scary. Of course, the descriptions are downright macabre (which I love), but...again Peak Murdoc here.

Lucy, I’m Home by TheDarkLegate

Summary:

After the release of Humanz, Murdoc isn't willing to wait another seven years for more success. Lucifer wants to see just what he'll give up to get it. One shot. Spiritual Successor to "A Day in the Life of Satan".

Rating: Teen

I’ve hardly (if ever) seen any fanfics that delve into Murdoc’s deal with the Devil. The way Lucifer is portrayed as a world-weary businessman rather than someone to fear is pretty funny and really in line with Gorillaz’ sense of humor, too.

Morning Person by Lmaooooonade

Summary:

A young boy cherishes the mornings where he can just exist. Things might not be great, but he can at least exist peacefully for a while.

Rated Teen for my fucking language.

Based off the headcanon of another creator I very much admire, please inquire within.

Rating: Teen

This Phase 0 fic is a great stand-alone read even if I haven’t really delved into the headcanons that inspired their fic (though I have seen their neat artwork around sometimes).

If I move my hands fast enough, I won’t die by alexisntedgy

Summary:

Murdoc Niccals has Tourette’s syndrome, this is the story of his journey.

Because nobody else has written about this headcanon yet!!

This will probably be a place to keep Tourettes!murdoc ficlets and one shots!!! For context, I (the author) have a tic disorder :)

Rating: Teen

Personally, I like Murdoc’s verbal tics, so it’s interesting to see someone else’s take on why he does them here.

Aaaand that’s it for now! I’ve read a lot more Gorillaz fics than this, but this list was getting long enough as it is, so I figure it’d be best to just make another rec post based on genre.

Part 2 of my recs will focus more on OC/Murdoc and reader/Murdoc romance fics, so stay tuned for those!

If you have any fic recs for me, by all means tell me about them! Just keep in mind that I don’t like any band ships aside from 2Russ and RussDel.

Self-insert OCs or reader fics are a-okay, though!

#if anyone has any other fic recs lmk!#Gorillaz #fanfiction

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omxriis · 5 years ago

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hi guys ! this is something i’ve been tossing back & forth in my head for a lil bit , but the fact of the matter is that my muse for mari was starting to run low , but i’m a mess & don’t wanna let go of him asdfjkns , so i decided to revamp him ! or more accurately , bring old mari back ! so below u will find his old biography ( thank god i still have his old intro up sdfgkjfsd ) as well as a little update bc he needs smth to give him a kick up the ass :/ this shouldn’t rly affect most of my plots but if u would like to plot smth w him , pls let me know !

&& . announcing his royal highness , ( 𝐎𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈 𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐈 𝐙𝐔𝐋𝐔 ) , the ( 𝟑𝟎 ) year old ( 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐄 ) of ( 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐒𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐀 ) . he is often confused with ( 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐋 𝐁 . 𝐉𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐀𝐍 ) . some say that he is ( 𝐂𝐀𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐎𝐔𝐒 & 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐒𝐏𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 ) , but he is actually ( 𝐃𝐄𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐑 & 𝐅𝐀𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐅𝐔𝐋 ) .

trigger warnings : brief mentions of death & illness .

* 𝑺𝑻𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑰𝑺𝑻𝑪𝑺 .

𝐅𝐔𝐋𝐋 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄 & 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : omari ( god the highest ) malachi ( my angel ) zulu ( heaven ) .

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 : mar , mari .

𝐀𝐆𝐄 : thirty .

𝐁𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐇𝐃𝐀𝐘 : 4th of august .

𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 : male .

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐒 : he / him .

𝐙𝐎𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐂 : leo af .

𝐑𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐎𝐍 : christian .

𝐎𝐂𝐂𝐔𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 : crown prince of botswana ( self - proclaimed professional pain in the ass ) .

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 : writing , reading , being in social situations , solving problems , traveling , annoying his siblings .

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄𝐒 : loud eaters , obnoxious people , big insects , being responsible for his actions .

* 𝑨𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑺 .

bare feet in mornings , neatly folded clothes , an organised shoe closet , messy sheets & an unmade bed , missed calls at 2am , highlighted passages in a book , dogeared pages , unanswered texts , tucked in shirts , unfinished books , warm tea , warm jumpers from the dryer , odd ceramic mugs , hidden springs of water , worn out military boots , fallen leaves during autumn , poetry at midnight , sleepy morning voice , unsent letters .

* 𝑩𝑰𝑶𝑮𝑹𝑨𝑷𝑯𝒀 .

when botswana gained its independence in 1966 , it seemed as if things were going well . the democracy they had built was stable & it appeared as if the land - locked country had no problems , & for a while it hadn’t but after a few years the peace in the government started to dwindle . too many people wanting too much power , somebody said . they jumped in feet first without any real clue how to run a country , said another . but over time the uninterrupted tranquility became obsolete . botswana was slowly going down a sinkhole until 1985 , when the south african king titled his eldest son , arno zulu , the king of botswana .

the change shook the botswanian government to the core , a change that it needed . at first the people of botswana weren’t sure how to react — this new monarchy was something nobody had expected . but the newly crowned king had ambition & he had stride . he had a set vision & a set plan to follow , all the while he was kind to his people & a fair ruler . it didn’t take as long as he expected for the botswanians to settle under his rule ( not being given the south african throne was a huge knock on his confidence as a royal ) so the speed his country settled was comforting .

however , the king could never forgive his father for throwing away his right to the throne & instead promised it to the youngest of the zulu heirs . this bitterness , however subsided into a more a more subtle distaste as he settled into his new role & a short few years later , he was married to a libyan princess & not too long after that , she fell pregnant with their first child . the pregnancy wasn’t easy ; there were a few complications along the way but after only 8 months of carrying him , omari malachi zulu was born .

omari wasn’t by any standards an extraordinary baby . his birth was easy , all things considered but as the first born child of the king of botswana , he had responsibilities he never even knew he had . the country accepted him with open arms & celebrated his birth in an ornate fashion . after all , he was the first born child of their first king . streets were decorated with the botswanian flag & music filled the streets for days after . the prince was a vision , as many called him . he looked strikingly similar to his father , even small features like the dimples in his cheeks & the crease between his eyebrows as he smiled . for months botswana was full of joy & that joy started to bring the country back into the state of peace they had at the very start of their independence .

the birth of their future king gave them hope . stability . & in turn they treated their leaders with grace & kindness , living in harmomy . it was almost idyllic ; omari grew up in a world where everyone was at peace as opposed to just a few years before he was born . he had everything he wanted & was treated with respect , so he treated his people with respect in return . he grew up in a loving household , full of books & all the learning tools a young heir could need , & although his professor was hard on him , omari did not let this harden him .

as a child he had always been a free - spirit ; he was intrigued by the idea of traveling & had read about all the places in the books from the palace’s library & from strangers who had stayed at the palace in passing . he was quite content , he had a certain mischievousness which often caught the guards out & a long string of jokes that could keep people laughing for days . however , for a child living in such a large expanse it was incredibly lonely , so it’s to be expected that when his brother was born , omari was over the moon .

the pair were like two peas in a pod ; where you’d see one , you’d no doubt see the other following not too far behind . they grew close quickly & omari was fiercely loyal to his younger brother . however , much like any ordinary older sibling he could be difficult . although he wasn’t nasty , he was a bit of a tyrant . causing ruckus & playing pranks on his brother was omari’s favourite pastimes & although they had their disagreements , he did it with love & there was very little omari wouldn’t do for him .

when his brother was born , omari learned a lesson in sharing . when his sister was born , he learned a lesson in protection . growing up he was educated on how to run a country successfully & how to be a good king , but nobody taught him how to be a good brother . sometimes he could be intolerant to who he’d often call the ‘ bonus zulu children ’ just to irritate them , but despite his annoying habits his siblings were his best friends . they filled the empty void that would otherwise still be hollow in the palace & on stressful days , they’d be the ones to aid him in unwinding .

the pressures of becoming king one day didn’t truly hit full force until he hit his teenage years . he was expected to set a prime example not only for his country but also his siblings , & although he did a good job at being generally liked by his peers & the like , he realised soon enough he’d have to get out there & represent his country , so that’s what he did . he started travelling the world & meeting new people & after a while , he went to college . someone had briefly suggested a college in portugal so he decided to go there , studying literature & modern language .

it was here where he met barbara de bragança , being in college at the same time as she was getting her degree . due to his royal status he was invited to stay at her college home & after taking the opportunity , the two quickly became close friends . he completed his education in portugal before he jetted off to carry on exploring the world , however he never lost touch with barbie & he started to become more responsible as he prepared to one day be king . while on his travels he learned a lot about different cultures & could strike up a conversation with anyone over anything .

give or take a few years & his family asked him to get engaged to the princess of hungary , fanni croÿ . the arrangement was strange given they already had a history but due to it being for the benefit of botswana he agreed & then they were engaged . however , just as they were starting to figure things out the engagement was called off & out of his confusion , omari took off without a word to anyone & has been m.i.a ever since , only keeping in touch with a short selection of people .

* 𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀 .

omari is a lover of adventure & experiencing new things . people might call him a thrill seeker , but he just believes that a life without experiencing everything you can isn’t a life worth living . he enjoys learning new things & is always keen on hearing different opinions to benefit his own , however he can come across as being quite opinionated when it comes to his own thoughts & he’s not afraid to speak his mind , which sometimes got him into trouble when he was younger but has earned him great respect as he grew older .

in general , omari is kind & thoughtful . he’s been influenced a lot by his father’s way of ruling the country & is a firm believer that you should treat people the way you expect to be treated , but he’s not afraid to stand his ground when he needs to or protect those that he’s closest to . when it comes to his family & his close friends , omari will go to the ends of the earth for them even if it was just to bring them a pretzel from europe . he values them a lot & is extremely loyal to them .

however , omari can be quite flaky & fickle . when it comes to making decisions regarding his country , he’s very clever in his approach & makes sure it’s the best decision but when it comes to his personal life , he’s not very good at all & often has to seek advice from other people just to make the correct decision . he dislikes situations that are too messy , which is one of the few reservations he has about being king because he knows he’ll be stuck in some but he’s working on his habit of fleeing before the situation gets too bad & instead striving to resolve them .

he can be pretty mischievous , since when he was younger he’d often play pranks on the guards & his siblings just to , as he used to say ‘ pass the time ’ so although he’s someone you can trust with your secrets , he’s not someone you can trust not to scare the living daylights out of you the next chance he gets . he loves to have fun & is slightly worried that when he becomes king all the fun he’s having now will no longer exist , but following in his father’s footsteps is something he’s always been keen in doing & seeing how well he’s doing pushes him to do the same .

although his father isn’t so bothered anymore by the fact that he was , as omari sees it thrown to the side for his younger brother , omari is extremely bitter about it . even though he loves botswana & its people , he still heavily believes that since his father is the oldest of the zulu heirs , he’s rightfully in line for the south african throne so the fact that his uncle , who’s little over ten years older than him never fails to stir up troubling thoughts & now that his grandfather has fallen ill , he sees this as an opportunity to start conflict with his uncle .

* 𝑼𝑷𝑫𝑨𝑻𝑬 .

ok i’m literally just gonna bullet point the things that have changed for him bc i’m too lazy to go back & edit this entire bio sdfkjdnsjkg

but u guys already know gramps is dead , which means ayo is king , which means the cousins failed in their attempts smh

mari was slightly bitter after the coronation , but it only lasted for a short while , bc news hit him that his father wasn’t very well , which meant that mari would have to step up & do more

i’m gonna say to save confusion that he just wasn’t doing enough . he rarely got involved with political moves , so that’s crucial now since his father can’t cope as usual

so i don’t rly know how this will affect him , it’ll either make him kick his ass into gear & do shit with his life or he’ll get so stressed he’ll have a break down

WHO KNOWS

#hshqintro #tw illness #tw death #i forgot how long his bio was wTF

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spine-buster · 6 years ago

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Alone, Together | Chapter 3 | Morgan Rielly

A/N: Thank you for the positive feedback, likes, reblogs, comments, and tags so far! This chapter is kinda sorta filler (3000 words worth...) but, you know...whatevs.

Bee hoped what she was wearing was okay. She almost wanted to cancel when Morgan told her to meet him at the corner of Spadina and King Street West, where they would walk to the place together. King West was swanky. There were a lot of trendy shops and restaurants, and a steady flow of cool bars kept popping up all the time. It was beyond Bee’s comfort zone. She loved walking down there, and she loved the old architecture and the facades of the buildings…but to actually go in to one of them? No. Those types of places weren’t meant for her.

But she didn’t cancel. She didn’t cancel because Morgan only told her about an hour before where to meet him, and it would have been exceptionally rude. She didn’t cancel because, yet again, Angie – still in Kingston – threatened to come back to Toronto and force her to go.

She didn’t cancel because she really wanted to see Morgan.

As she approached the intersection, Bee could see Morgan leaning against the side of a building, looking down at his phone. She had walked from her place all the way down Spadina, and she thanked God there was a cool breeze out or else she probably would have been a sweating mess. As if on cue, he looked up from his phone to see her walking, and gave her a little wave, pushing himself off the wall and shoving his phone into his pocket.

He pulled her in for a quick hug when she was close enough, his hands lingering a bit on her hips. “You look great,” he looked her in the eye as she said it.

She knew her pants were tugging on her hips. And she knew her top was a bit too big and her shoes were old and her bag had seen better days but apparently that didn’t matter. She smiled at the compliment. He was wearing a pair of grey slacks, a short-sleeve button down, and his ever-present baseball cap. The sight of his biceps made her knees weak. “Ready to go? Where’s the restaurant?” she asked.

“Have you ever been to Cibo?”

She gulped. Cibo was one of the best wine bars in the city. “Nope.”

His hand slipped quickly from her hip to hold her hand, and she could have sworn her heart fluttered at the contact. God, he had to know what he was doing. “Then let’s go. You’re gonna love it.”

They arrived at the restaurant still hand in hand. As it was a Friday evening, it was packed with people. There were diners everywhere, and there was a group of people waiting inside as well as a line up outside the doors. It was busy. As Bee slowed down to entire the end of the line, Morgan tugged her inside. She looked around to make sure nobody was giving them a dirty look. ‘We aren’t cutting’ she wanted to tell everyone. ‘I have no idea what he’s doing, but we’re not cutting!’

“It’s currently a 45 minute wait for a table,” the beautiful blonde hostess said to Morgan and Bee as they approached her – no hello, no formalities, just the time. “We can write down your name if you’d like.”

“That won’t be necessary. We have reservations,” Morgan said. “Und --”

“Cibo doesn’t take reservations on Friday nights,” she interrupted.

Morgan gave her a look for being rude. “Well someone here took my booking. It’s under the name Morgan.”

“Take a seat,” she nodded towards the benches where some people were waiting.

“But we have --”

“Morgan, it’s okay,” Bee felt the need to intervene. She shook his hand, which was still holding on to hers, to get his attention. “It’s okay. We can wait for a bit, and if it’s too long we can just find somewhere else.”

After twenty minutes of waiting, Morgan was becoming increasingly impatient. He probably would have approached the hostess again, but Bee kept telling him not to say anything, that it’s okay, that they’d eventually get a table. He wasn’t so sure. He needed this night to go well, and right now, it was a disaster. When she went to the washroom, he finally took his chance.

He approached the hostess once more, trying to remain calm. “Excuse me…we have reservations. We shouldn’t be waiting this long for a table.”

“It’s Friday night, sir. Cibo gets busy. And like I said, we don’t take reservations on Fridays.”

He took a quick look around to make sure Bee wasn’t coming back from the washroom. He absolutely hated doing this, but he knew he needed to in order to salvage the night. “Listen, Ben usually works Friday nights, right? Tell him Morgan Rielly is here.”

He could see the girl roll her eyes. “Morgan O’Reilly?”

“No no, just Rielly. Mor-gan Rie-lly,” he said slower.

He watched as she picked up the receiver, pressed a button, and waited for someone to answer on the other end. She barely batted an eyelash when she finally said, “Hey Ben – I’m supposed to tell you Morgan Rielly has been here for twenty minutes.” Her tone was very sarcastic and dry. Something was clearly said because she straightened up her back and hung up the phone. “He’s on his way out,” she said quickly.

“Great, thank you.”

As if on cue, he watched as Bee exited the washroom and Ben – the manager that usually handled the boys whenever they wanted to discreetly come in – whip around the bend and start walking towards the front reception. When Bee noticed Morgan still at the front, she pursed her lips slightly. “Still no table?”

“It’s coming,” Morgan nodded his head towards Ben, making Bee turn around.

“Mo! How the fuck are you?” Ben’s voice bellowed over the mass of people congregated in the restaurant. He and Morgan shook hands and bumped chests before he continued. “You’re back in town early! You got Matts with you?”

“No no. It’s Briony’s first time at Cibo,” Morgan said, placing his hand on the small of her back.

“Let me bring you to your usual right away,” Ben said. “Apologies about the wait.”

Morgan’s hand slipped to hold Bee’s as they made their way through the restaurant until Ben brought them to a booth at near the back corner. They sat down across from each other and were promptly handed the food and wine menus before Ben told them their server would be there shortly. He patted Mo on the back before leaving. Bee wondered if he came here a lot.

“Do you know what any of this means?” Bee mused as she looked through the wine menu. She wasn’t a complete idiot – she obviously knew there were different types of wines, and they came from different regions around the world, but she could never taste the difference between a cabernet sauvignon, a merlot, a chardonnay, or anything else that was put in front of her. People who did kind of freaked her out, only because it meant they had so much time on their hands that they could actually think about this sort of stuff. Ah yes, I can smell the oak. The taste of the cranberry is very pert. Like, no you can’t. All wine tasted the same to her. It was all good.

“Yeah, of course,” Morgan said, giving her a weird look. “I wouldn’t bring you here if I didn’t.”

“So you can order for me, then?”

“Do you trust me?” he smirked.

It was a loaded question, sure, and there was a definite double entendre in the question and the way that he asked it (at least Bee thought so). She knew everything was still new, and fresh, and she knew that it had only been a small amount of time since meeting him, but Morgan had never given her any reason not to trust him. Was it perhaps a bit foolish on her part to trust him? Maybe. But right now, she did. And she didn’t feel queasy about it.

Wait – they were talking about wine, right?

“I trust you,” she said, smiling back at him. “I know nothing about wine.”

“You wanna get something to munch on?”

Bee hesitated. She was already going to be forking out what looked like $15 for the cheapest, smallest amount of wine. She never factored in that there was going to be food in this. Morgan only said drinks. “It’s okay,” she shook her head.

“Are you sure?”

She sighed. “I um…I don’t mean to sound cheap but I can’t afford to eat out right now, so I’m gonna have to pass. You can get something though. I don’t mind.”

“Wait, what do you mean you can’t you afford it right now?”

She cringed. “Because I’m a starving Master’s student, Morgan.”

“Briony.”

She couldn’t meet his eye, especially after her name rolled off his lips like that. How could she? Here was a guy who was taking her out on a date to an expensive wine bar and here she was, getting by on the littlest amounts. “Listen, I’m basically living off of multiple scholarships right now. I don’t exactly have the funds to eat out at fancy places like this,” she explained.

Morgan looked at her as if she had three heads. “Do you honestly think I would bring you to a place like this, on a date, knowing you’re a university student that’s been supporting yourself for years, and not pick up the tab?”

Bee felt tears lining her eyes for some reason. “It’s not…it’s not about that,” she said, shaking her head, trying her hardest not to let her voice crack. “It’s…”

“Briony, come on. Why are you so nervous?”

He just had to use her full name again. Had to. “I’m not used to this.”

“You --”

“I hardly ever go out. Because I can’t afford it. And when I do go out, it’s definitely not to places like this. We’re talking five dollar pitchers at the Green Room, not bottles of wine from Italy or Napa Valley.”

“Then --”

“And for that matter, I like to cook. It’s like…I don’t know, my hobby. I try to prep and make everything at home because it’s cheaper. That way I’m not tempted to spend my money on food. I know not a lot of people do that anymore but it’s how I survived growing up so I’m just used to it.”

“Then ignore everything else. Ignore everything around you. It’s just me.” There was a moment of silence as Bee considered the words, and Morgan took the opportunity to reach across the table and grab her hand, clasping it tenderly. “It’s just me, Briony.”

She nodded her head. She knew that. And he made it so simple. There didn’t have to be all the bells and whistles. She could ignore it. For now, it was just Bee and Morgan. “Do you mind letting me know about the wine a bit, then?”

He obliged readily. For someone who worked in the sports industry, he sure knew a lot about wine, and he definitely knew what he liked. The regions in Italy, the regions in France, his preferences which tended towards wines from Napa Valley – Bee clearly needed to re-evaluate what type of people liked wine and how much time Morgan had readily available to him. She absorbed the information as much as possible, but she knew she would forget most of it after they left.

Soon enough, a professionally dressed waitress approached their table to take their order. “What would you two like?”

“We’re gonna get the cabernet sauvignon…Pine Ridge from Napa Valley,” Morgan told the waitress. Bee quickly scanned the menu to see the bottle was a whopping $120. “And we’ll get the carpaccio, the bruschetta, the fromaggi platter, and some bread please.” Bee’s eyes scanned the menu again, quickly adding up the prices of the platters. She gulped. “Thank you.”

All they did was talk. They talked and talked and talked, and when the wine came out, and Bee took her first sip, it was good, and so she drank and they talked some more, and when the food came out, she ate some cheeses, and it was really good, and so she ate and they talked some more, and when the carpaccio and the bread came she paired all three together and it was heavenly, and so she enjoyed the food and wine and they talked even more. Neither of them could stop talking. Morgan revealed more about himself – how he grew up in West Vancouver, how he had an older brother, how his dad owned a lumber company and his mom owned a medical research company. How happy his childhood was. How he’d get up early to play hockey with his dad. How he played at the country club (yes…a damn country club) growing up. Bee didn’t think she’d ever met someone who was actually a member of a country club. She couldn’t help but wonder what that was like.

By the end of the night Bee was sure she had half a bottle of wine flowing through her veins. She was by no means drunk, but she was definitely warm and fuzzy. Definitely happy. So when Morgan paid the bill and his hands wandered to her hips and the small of her back again as they walked out of the restaurant, she didn’t mind. Actually, she wanted them to stay there. And when he suggested he walk her home – the whole 45-minute walk home back up to the Annex, she could only nod her head and slip her hand into his as they walked up Spadina.

He mentioned how he was going back to Vancouver for two weeks. It was to see his parents, he said. He hadn’t seen them in a while. And his brother, of course. And his beautiful golden lab, Maggie, his girl, that took up a majority of the camera roll on his phone. Bee never had any pets growing up – they obviously couldn’t afford it. But Bee promised herself that the second she could have enough disposable income she would get a pet. Adopt a cat from the Humane Society or something.

As they finally hit Bloor Street, Bee began to get nervous. She started asking him if he’d ever been walking in the Annex (he had not) and if he’d ever want to (he did). She noticed he slowed down his walking, and truth be told, she did too. But the realization only made her more nervous. And when she got nervous, she didn’t shut up. It was a curse. Just like her rambling about books, she was now rambling about the Annex. She honestly couldn’t stop.

“We’re coming up on mine now,” she said, nodding her head towards the house where her apartment was.

It was a massive house – one of the traditional Annex mansions that lined the streets and that people in Toronto paid millions upon millions for – but it looked older than some of the others in the neighbourhood that had been lovingly restored. It wasn’t dilapidated by any means, but Morgan could tell that not a lot of care had gone in to maintaining the place – a shame, really, since these houses were relics of a bygone era. They didn’t build houses like this anymore.

Morgan tried to imagine Bee living here. He tried to imagine her coming home from classes everyday, or her leaving with reusable grocery bags to do her weekly shop. He tried to imagine her apartment. Did she have a desk against the big bay window? Was she on the main or second floor? Was there still an original, working fireplace? Did she use it? But the more he tried to think, the more his thoughts were drowned out by her rambling voice. What was she talking about? At this point, he had no clue, but she was being so cute and he knew she did this all the time when she got nervous and, well, he was nervous too, because all he had wanted to do when he saw her at the beginning of their date was kiss her.

She walked him through the gate and on to the front porch, but she wouldn’t quiet down. “There’s, like, five apartments in here,” she said, looking up at the house. “On the main floor there’s mine and the one in the back – it’s the same on the second floor obviously – and then there’s a small apartment on the third floor too. The basement just has some storage rooms – laundry too, obviously – and, like, the furnace room…nothing special,” she babbled.

He leaned in, needing her to stay silent for just a moment so he could collect his thoughts. “Briony?” he mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“Can I kiss you now?”

“Oh!” She loved that he asked permission, but she was stupid. She was so, so stupid. “Of course.”

Morgan kissed Bee the way she had always wanted to be kissed: soft at first, with a gentleness that could deceive you, but with a streak desire that exuded like a flame. As she was a willing participant and readily reciprocating, he continued to kiss her, his hands wandering to her waist and down her hips, settling on the small of her back before pulling her body closer to his.

It turned into a full-blown make-out session before Bee had to stop for air. Morgan’s eyes remained closed as she tried to catch her breath.

It was late. He had a plane to catch tomorrow morning to go home.

“Have fun in Vancouver,” she whispered, moving to unlock the front door.

Morgan’s eyes shot open. “What?”

“Goodnight,” she smiled.

“Nonononono,” he pulled her back against him, giving her another kiss. She reciprocated again, but pulled away quicker than Morgan liked.

“You have an early flight tomorrow.”

“I don’t care.”

“Goodnight,” she smiled, pushing the door in.

“Briony.”

“Goodnight.”

“Briony!”

As she shut the door, he chuckled to himself. This was going to be a long trip back to Vancouver.

#morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly fic #toronto maple leafs imagine #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs #alone together series

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thedistantstorm · 5 years ago

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Keep On Rising(Until The Sky Knows Your Name) 17

A story about how an orphaned Amanda Holliday comes to belong in the Last Safe City and the family she finds along the way.

(Or, the story of how Commander Zavala finds himself responsible for one Amanda Holliday.)

Chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16

This time: Zavala gets flung head-first into being Amanda’s Guardian. Eva stops by to see his charge.

Notes: I’m so sorry for taking a month off on this one! After a lot of consideration I’ve decided to finish this one off with the conclusion of chapter 19(maybe a tiny epilogue, we’ll see). I’d like to write more for them, but I think it would make sense to package each arc of their story neatly. Expect a sequel about them adjusting to life after Amanda’s injury, including the difficulties of Zavala’s work, and those who have to step in and lend a hand.

He swears he only dozes off for a second, but when he wakes, the light of the sunrise is bright in his eyes, and Amanda’s laying the wrong way in the bed, her head near the footboard. “How much longer?” She whines to Shiori, hovering above her.

“Twelve minutes. How’re you holding up?”

She flops face down with an exasperated groan. It’s enough of a reply.

“What are you doing?” Zavala asks, watching her.

“Stretchin’.” She puts a hand on her right hip, but winces when she pushes down.

“By laying on your stomach?”

“I gotta,” She tells him, turning her head to the side, mostly murmuring into her blankets. “Twice a day I gotta lay on my tummy or my hip gets all twisted ‘n angry.”

“Apparently,” Shiori floats over to her Guardian, “If she does this before therapy, it makes things easier.”

“Y’think the same lady will come in to make me do my leg circle-thingies? She was nice.”

“What?” Zavala looks to Shiori, who gives a Ghost’s impression of a shrug.

Amanda lifts herself up with her arms, shaking slightly. “Ain’t nobody told you anything, have they?” At the Commander’s deer-in-headlights look - which was really funny, she thought - she sighs. “They make me do all sorts a’stuff all day. I take medicine, then I do my exercises, then sometimes the doctor comes to see me. Then,” She stresses, overwhelmed with the thought of all these tasks, “They give me more medicine an’ I nap,” She flushes. “The medicine makes me sleepy.” She sighs. “You really don’t miss nothin’.”

He hums, rising from the rather uncomfortable chair to stretch himself, reaching first to the sky, then down to the floor before using the little en-suite to freshen up.

“When ya leavin’?” She asks after him, around the time when Shiori tells her she’s in the home stretch; Only four more minutes and she can roll back over.

He stands in front of the window on the other side of the room, not returning to the chair. “I am not. Not today. Not unless there is an emergency.”

Amanda absolutely beams at him.

The doctor pulls him out into the hall when he stops to see Amanda towards the end of her physical therapy session. If he’s intimidated by the rank of the man he’s talking to, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he hands Zavala a copy of every medical record they have on the girl, which Shiori immediately transmats it away, scanning and uploading every word to her internal memory and a tablet for Zavala.

“I’m estimating about two, maybe three weeks,” The man says. “The majority of her injuries were minor, leg excluded. Right now, so long as we can keep her eating and she puts on weight, all of her lab values should balance out, and she should be free to go. By then she should be completely mobile on crutches, and in a few months, if not sooner, she’ll be able to start using a prosthesis.”

“I did not expect it to be so soon,” Zavala admits, tucking one fist into the other hand behind his back.

“It’s a traumatic injury,” The doctor muses, “But an amputation is usually pretty clean. Her scarring is not as neat as I had hoped, however, and she will grow. Therapy will be the most important thing. She will compensate with her back and hips for the lack of a knee. Pain will likely be an issue. We’ll get her started on a regimen, but it will be imperative to keep up with it, in order to facilitate a complete recovery. The psychological aspects will be far more intensive. We’ll set you up with someone she can talk with.”

The doctor does not carry on for long before moving on to his next patient. When he goes, Shiori hovers in Zavala’s peripheral. “We have work to do,” She tells him. “A lot of work to do.”

Zavala would agree aloud if she pushed him to, but Shori can already sense he’s overwhelmed, so she opts for a gentler approach. She’s used to reading errant thoughts across their link, well aware that her very stoic, very in-control Commander is actually an anxiety-riddled maelstrom of emotion. He’s very good about not letting it show.

“We knew it would be all hands on deck,” She reminds him mildly. “We’ll take it a day at a time.”

His agreement is silent, between them alone. She shivers out of being in motes of light, her soundless fusion with him like a gentle reassurance, a reminder to breathe.

Two days later, Zavala comes to check in on Amanda mid-morning only to find Eva perched on the edge of the bed. Amanda is standing, holding both of the woman's hands for balance, sweating with the effort. A chair is behind her, to catch her if she falls.

Zavala waits in the doorway, not wanting to spook the girl and ruin her already precarious balance. She forces herself to sit without flopping, putting one hand on the arm of the chair, then the other, then controlling her movement.

"My arms feel like jelly," She grouses.

"New exercise?"

"Zavala!" She tilts her head in the direction of his voice, the cheer his arrival brings visible. Eva smiles.

"Hello, Amanda. I see you have a visitor."

"Eva and I had breakfast," She tells him, looking to Eva. "It was really good."

"I am glad you liked it," Eva tells her, patting the top of her hand. "I'm going to make those pastilleos I told you about. I'll have to bring you some."

She looks to Zavala while Amanda hums an excited mhmm! Zavala's blue gaze meets hers for a beat, giving insight to his gratefulness. When he'd spoken to Eva the day before, she committed herself to helping with keeping the girl's weight up without his prompting, but he was not expecting her to come through so quickly. Really, he should have known better.

"Well, I'm not just here for that," Eva says kindly, retrieving a bag she'd placed on the windowsill. She pulls out a tablet, handing it to the girl. “We have some decorating to do.”

“We do?”

Eva laughs. “My dear, we have to talk about your bedroom! You won’t be in the hospital forever, and when you get home you’ll need a place for-”She breaks off when Amanda’s face crumples. “Oh, don’t cry dear, it’s alright!”

She wipes the tears away from her face with the back of her hand, giving a nervous laugh as the other trembles, propping up the tablet. “I don’ mind whatever,” She says quietly, with a nervous laugh. “It’s fine.”

“Oh, come now, there has to be something you’d like-”

Zavala shakes his head, hardly a gesture at all, really. Amanda doesn’t notice, but it’s enough to silence Eva. He takes the tablet from Amanda without preamble, setting it aside and then leaning down. “Think you can stand again?”

She nods, and he offers her both hands, letting her use them for leverage to pull herself to a single shaking leg. He feels it buckle before she realizes what’s happening and dips, catching her before she’d ever come close to the ground.

“Sorry,” She murmurs, and he shakes his head.

“You aren’t hurt?”

“This happened earlier,” She admits softly. “I’m real weak, they said.”

“You haven’t been feeling well,” He muses, “And your body isn’t used to this. We’ll work on it.” She hums, snuggling into his embrace while he moves aside one blanket and sits in the chair with her in his lap. He reaches for the tablet. “But for now, I think Eva said there were some patterns with ships on them, and we should at least look at them.” He looks down at her, unsurprised by her unwavering gaze. “Did you tell Eva that you want to be a pilot when you’re older?”

“Oh, that’s lovely, dear!” Eva gushes.

“But-” The hurt in her voice cuts the conversation like a knife. They fall silent. She doesn’t have to speak it aloud for the two adults to understand what she’s thinking.

Then, “You have a habit of making the impossible happen,” Zavala tells her softly, whispering the truth against her hair as he searches through Eva’s round up of decorative options. “You made it to the City, fought the Fallen and lived to tell about it. Convinced me-” Her fingers curl over his arm in a pseudo-hug. He kisses her forehead when he cannot continue, waylaid by his emotional transparency. “You’ll fly, Amanda. Believe me.”

She twists to hug him for real, but it doesn’t last for more than a couple seconds. When she settles, she looks over to Eva. “Are there ones with li’l ships?” Her head rests against Zavala’s jaw as she helps him scroll through the images. “I really do wanna fly someday,” She admits quietly.

“There should be,” Eva answers. “And if there’s not one you like, we’ll figure out something different. You leave it to Eva, dear.”

#amanda holliday #commander zavala #found family #destiny fanfiction #shipwright september #(yes i know it's october but let's just keep this organized shall we)

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rambling-at-midnight · 6 years ago

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Don’t You Believe Me?

Request: Could you write a klaus imagine where it’s a couple years post-canon. the reader has been pining for him for ages but swallows it cus they don’t believe he returns their feelings. when he tells them that he loves them they’re just like “lmao sure” cus all of their friends and partners have left them and no one has ever loved them enough to stay so they don’t believe him. They aren’t like sad about it either, just resigned and making light of it to deal with how much it hurts to not be wanted.

Pairing: Klaus x Reader (Oneshot)

“He’s probably lying, though,” you mutter to yourself, chewing on your thumbnail as you pace around your small room, bare feet sinking into Emily’s plush carpet with every step. Your phone is in your hand, screen glowing as it displays the nine-word text that’s causing you so much anxiety. When the screen dims, you tap it again. You just need to look at the text in order to get a feel for it.

“What does he have to gain from lying to you?” your roommate, Emily, asks from where she’s laying on her stomach on her bed. Her hair is curled perfectly and her clothes are fashionable and look cute. You don’t know how she does it. You always look terrible no matter how hard you try and your hair can’t hold a curl to save your life. It’s especially impressive considering how just yesterday she’d been bawling her eyes out.

“He could humiliate me!” you exclaim, your voice loud. Someone in the hall down yells to shut up, which in turn makes other people yell at them, until everyone’s yelling and then it lapses into stony, brooding silence. You hiss, “He could be saying it to stand me up or something!”

“Y/N, we’re not in middle school anymore,” Emily responds. “Trust me, no one’s going to be putting in this much effort in order to stand you up.”

“I don’t know,” you say, your phone screen dimming once more. You tap the screen and accidentally on the new message, which means now Charles will be able to see that you’ve opened up the text. “Shit!” You drop your phone like a hot potato. The offending text glares up at you: You know, you’re actually rly cute. Wanna meet up?

“Haven’t you guys been talking for, like, weeks?” Emily asks, blowing a large bubble and sending her friend a SnapChat. “Yeah, trust me, guys like that lose interest after three days on average.” She should know; she did an actual study on the habits of boys and girls when talking to people on instant messaging, and if the male isn’t interested he apparently gives up after three days. You guess she hadn’t studied how many guys cheat on their girlfriends or she wouldn’t have started dating her boyfriend, but she hardly looks worse for the wear.

“What about the outliers?” you ask miserably. Charles is active on Instagram right now, which means he’s probably waiting for your response. He’s seen that you’ve seen it. He might be getting annoyed that you’re taking too long. He might be laughing with his friends about how they’re guessing you’re freaking out.

“The most extreme outlier was a week, Y/N,” Emily says not-so-patiently. She’s normally pretty good at handling you when you’re like this, but recently she found out her boyfriend’s been cheating on her, and she had to pull an allnighter last night to study for her Calculus quiz. Now she’s plotting her revenge on the cheating Michael. “Trust me. Nobody even finds that all that entertaining, anyway. You’re not going to get stood up.”

Your phone screen hasn’t even turned off before you decide, “No, I’m canceling it. Nope. Nope. I’m blocking him.”

“Y/N!” Emily jerks her head up to look at you, brown eyes widening with horror, but you’ve already done it. Her voice is surprisingly shrill when she exclaims againn, “Y/N!”

“Shut up!” somebody yells again, followed by multiple people shushing them.

“Oh, jeez,” you say, your hands shaking as you shove your phone in your pocket. “Nope, nope, nope. Did not like that.”

“You’re pathetic,” Emily sighs, shaking her head. “He was cute. He seemed sweet. You’re just being crazy.”

“I’m sorry, are you standing up for boys in general now?” you ask, putting your hands on your hips. “Last time I checked, your boyfriend’s a douche.”

“First of all, no, I wasn’t talking about all boys, just Charles. He seemed nice. Second of all,” Emily glares at you, “low blow, dude.”

“Sorry,” you groan, dragging a hand down your face. “I’m just… not good at this.”

“You just need to get over him,” Emily says, standing up. She puts a perfectly manicured hand on your arm and crinkles her brow at you. “Trust me. Pining over Klaus for eternity isn’t going to make you feel any better. Rebound dudes are the absolute best to date, because everything they do feels so crazy amazing!” She’s already got her rebound dude from Michael picked out.

“I know,” you insist, folding your arms. “I’m getting over him. It’s just… I had a bad feeling about Charles,” you invent wildly.

Emily crosses her arms and raises one skeptical eyebrow. “Mmm-hmm, sure.”

“What about you?” you ask, sitting down heavily on your bed and wiping your phone screen on your jean pants. “What are you thinking for Michael?”

“Honestly, I was thinking about cutting three inches off my hair and posting a selfie with the caption ‘Not gonna miss those three inches, Mike’.” Emily flips her hair over her shoulder and sends another photo to a friend. “What do you think?”

You laugh. “That sounds really funny. I’ll be the first to like it.”

“Honestly, now I think about it, why’d I stay with a guy that barely hits four inches?” she muses, tapping her chin with her pointer finger.

“I believe I asked you that when you started dating him,” you mutter. “And you responded that he was sweet.”

“Character is out,” Emily decides. “The length of the dick is all that matters now, as long as he’s not a total asshole and, like, a wifebeater.”

“As you do,” you nod.

It was the whole ‘your boyfriend’s a douche’ comment, you’re sure of it.

Emily has moved out of the room you shared together.

It’s not like you weren’t expecting it, either; since when has anyone ever wanted anything to do with you? Your own parents abandoned you and when you tried to track them down, they had another little girl and were not interested in talking to you. The rare times you’ve gotten a boyfriend he’d dumped you quickly, unable to handle your fears of abandonment.

Even the goddamn cat you adopted from the shelter ran away.

So no. You’re the opposite of a magnet. Nobody ever wants to be with you. They don’t even want to be in the same room as you.

Your phone buzzes. It’s Klaus Hargreeves, your oldest friend, and you’re trying to calculate how long it’ll be until he leaves you too. Everyone else has. It’s only a matter of time.

Klaus: Hey, Y/N, wanna come over? I’ve got a surprise for you!

Honestly, you’re surprised he’s texted you. He hasn’t in the last three days, which frankly isn’t very unusual for him, but your anxieties are in overdrive and have been since coming home and seeing the ‘Goodbye’ note on the door.

‘Y/N, I’m going to be living with some other friends for the rest of the semester.’

Translation: I’m finally ditching you for my better friends.

‘No hard feelings, right?’

Translation: I’m trying to be as polite as possible, don’t get mad at me for ditching you, you loser.

‘I’ll still see you around!’

Translation: But only in passing; don’t try to talk to me in public.

‘—Emily’

Translation: You were super fucking annoying. Thank God I’m out.

Within seconds, you text Klaus back, saying, What time? And what sort of surprise?

You good to come over like rn?

You don’t have any other classes for the rest of the day, and though you have an essay to write, you can do it when you come home later or tomorrow.

Yeah, sure, I’m on my way, you text back and slip on a pair of shoes before hurrying out the door. On the bright side, you won’t be able to get into any loud conversations and get yelled at anymore. You’re pretty sure the rest of the hall hates you and Emily for occasionally shrieking the most.

Come to my bedroom when you get here ;), Klaus sends you, and you have to stifle a grin. Maybe his teasing is what made you fall for him initially, and the way he’s so carefree. It hurts a little bit, though, whenever he makes a joke about being with you. You know you’re not even an option, but still.

Like Emily had said. You need to get over Klaus. Maybe you should have told him you had to write the essay, but…

It’s too late now for that. Plus, Klaus may get annoyed if you cancel plans with him and not want to hang out with you later on.

The Umbrella Academy mansion is quiet when you push open the doors. Grace must be cleaning elsewhere, and Pogo must be doing… whatever Pogo does when he’s not taking care of the kids. You barely even notice your extravagant surroundings anymore; far too used to them after visiting Klaus whenever you’re worried he’s OD’d on drugs or whenever he’s a little less high and wants to hang out.

Nothing’s changed when you see Klaus’s room. Well, things have definitely changed; there are balloons around the doorway like he’s celebrating something, but that’s just Klaus fashion. For all you know, he could be celebrating something—maybe this is his anniversary of getting addicted to drugs or something like that. Something like that would kill you a little bit to see happen, as it would kill all his siblings, but Klaus is just like that.

And you really do love him.

You push open the door cautiously, half-expecting him to throw something at you as a prank, but all that greets you is Klaus standing in the middle of his room, exclaiming happily upon seeing you.

“Hey, Y/N!”

You can’t respond. You have to take it all in for a second.

For one thing, his curtains aren’t drawn for once to keep the sun from hurting his hangover headache. For another thing, he’s shaved and cut his hair a little bit. The last thing that really stands out to you is that he’s wearing color. In all your life, you’ve never seen Klaus wear any color apart from that pink feather boa, but he’s wearing a tie-dye tank top and loose green cargo pants.

You laugh a little hesitantly, stepping into the room and looking around. He’s certainly seemed to embrace the color; confetti’s everywhere. “What’s going on, Klaus?”

“I’m sober,” he beams, holding up his arms. “Ta-da!”

You’re speechless.

“I know it’s taken me a long time,” he continues, “and I’m really glad you’ve helped me through all the years. But I’m sober and I’m planning on staying sober for the rest of my life. Ben’s helping me realize that I can’t just drink away my problems, you know?”

“Are you serious?” you manage to squeak out.

Klaus nods.

You squeal and launch yourself across the room, latching onto Klaus like a koala. “Klaus, I cannot believe it! Why didn’t you tell me you were getting sober?”

“I didn’t wanna let you down if I couldn’t,” he mutters, squeezing you so tightly you can’t breathe for a second. “And I was planning something.”

“What?” You pull away from him, already regretting the hug because it just made you love being in his arms more. Spending time with somebody probably isn’t the best way to get over them.

“Well, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while, but I knew I wasn’t gonna be able to until I was sober.” Klaus sits down on his bed, pulling you down with him, and looks in your eyes seriously. It’s unnerving. You’ve never really seen Klaus serious. “Y/N…” He swallows. “Please don’t say anything until I’m done, okay? I just need to get something off my chest.”

You nod. Oh God, is he going to tell me he’s murdered someone? Can you honestly keep a secret like that for him? You nod, squeezing his hands tightly.

“Y/N, I’ve loved you for a long time,” he says, blushing a bit but refusing to look away from you. “I wanted to get sober for you. I want to have a future with you. You’re my best friend and you make me laugh. You’re supportive and kind. I know that people have left you before, but I promise I won’t. I don’t know if you feel the same way, but if you do…” He squeezes your hands for a second. “I’d love to spend the rest of my life with you.”

You want to vomit.

He’s really making fun of you in this way? When he knows how sensitive you are about being abandoned? When he’s probably the only person who knows about your parents and relationship struggles throughout your life?

You swallow around a lump in your throat and croak out a laugh. “Ha, good one, Klaus.” You stand up, avoiding his eyes. “I’m happy you’re sober, though.” You start to turn away, saying, “I have an essay to—”

Klaus grabs your hand gently and spins you around. “Y/N, I’m not making fun of you. I really do love you.”

“Yep, mmhmm, sure,” you say, nodding too quickly, clenching your jaw too tightly. “I know. I’m sorry; I’m not really in the mood for jokes right now; I’m stressed out about this essay that’s due—”

“Y/N, don’t you believe me?” Klaus asks, staring at you. He’d honestly not expected it to go like this—he’s sober; isn’t life supposed to start going right?

You wrench your arm out of his grip. “Sorry, Klaus, I really have to go. I’ll talk to you later.”

“No, you won’t,” Klaus mutters as you escape the room. He’d imagined that going in a million different ways except that one. “Shit!”

“Go chase after her,” Ben instructs. “We both knew she wouldn’t believe you. At first.”

Umbrella Academy Taglist:

@fentanvl @deathswretch @lightningidiot @five-hg @iamsnek666@ameliatrh @ihatecheesyusernames @dora-the-grownup @emilyt0314 @idklol707

Forever Taglist:

@lemirabitur @annymcervantes

Guys, take a look at the prompt list on my page—I’d love to take requests for them; it’ll be fun writing practice!

#tua #the umbrella academy #klaus hargreeves #klaus x reader #reader x klaus #klaus hargreeves x reader #klaus #number four #reader insert #reader x klaus hargreeves

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boystownhq · 5 years ago

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[ R-E-S-P-E-C-T Find Out What It Means To Me. On Communication! ]

Recently, I’ve been noticing a trend of people communicating out of character in the vaguest way possible, or alternatively being aggressive to the point of turning people off. I’m here to talk about the happy medium that helps us communicate our wants, goals, and limits. And to remind everyone of a few key things to always keep in mind when writing with other people in a group setting.

There’s also plotting and letting go of plots. Sometimes when you reach out to people, you’re really excited about a plot, and when it starts to play out, things go awry, and it creates a conflict that becomes difficult to deal with IC and we turn to OOC solutions. Character chemistry changes sometimes, or sometimes our writing styles don’t match. That’s OKAY! If you’re not feeling it, all it takes is a quick message. Something like:

YES ✓ “Hey, I’m not really feeling this plot/thread and would like to drop it. Thanks.”

NO ✘ Immediate unfollow and/or block.

Dropping threads/plots/etc does NOT give anyone the right to treat your fellow writers poorly. Being short with people and getting upset over in-character interactions is not the way to go. IC should never cross over into OOC, and we need to take a step back and really think about what we’re actually upset about. Be concise and specific when you message each other so nothing’s really left up in the air. Please remember that behind each character is a real, imperfect person using this roleplay as a creative outlet. Be patient with each other, avoid taking things personally, and if you can’t mesh well out of character, it’s easy to just bow out of a conversation with common courtesy and leave each other alone before things escalate. I’m going to go over a few points I think we need a refresher on.

Brace yourself, this is a long read, but worth it!

Consent: ALWAYS check in with your RP partners and make sure it’s okay to do something before just writing it, however insignificant it might seem to you. Please do not godmode dialogue, actions, or extensions of said characters (pets, children, parents, or other NPCs they’ve made) unless you’ve asked for permission. When in doubt, ASK to make sure it’s okay!

TAGS and Triggers: Please remember that a character’s actions and viewpoints do NOT reflect the actions and viewpoints of the writer. A little louder for those in the back: IC =/= OOC. We’re in a roleplay with a variety of characters that deal with things like infidelity, internalized homophobia, crime, sex negativity, sex positivity, family issues, race issues, gender norms, gender fluidity and other issues that affect people in the LGBT and POC communities every day. All we ask is that everyone portray these issues respectfully and if you don’t know how to, then please do not attempt to until you’re more educated. Nobody wants to read a mockery of issues we deal with on the daily in real life. While we love seeing diversity, you do NOT need to write about deeper issues to make your character interesting. That being said, don’t take it upon yourself to play blog police. Come to the admin if you see something that’s a cause for concern, and keep in mind that you do NOT have to interact with every character in the RP. We have a list of triggers, please tag them accordingly. As much as we all love seeing steamy aesthetics and faceclaim posts on the dash, please tag NSFW accordingly. Need something added to the list? Please reach out to the admin so we can add it!

SMUT: Sometimes, people bring in FCs that we REALLY like! And maybe you wanna write your character and that character getting together, but consider this: maybe that person doesn’t want to jump right into smut. It can come off as fetishizing if that’s the only thing you ever want to plot or write about. People do NOT owe you an explanation as to why they won’t write smut. Respect that. If your character is aggressively pushing a sexual plot and you are asked to stop OOC, then you need to full-stop. Sex is a sensitive subject, whether you think so or not, and we respect everyone’s boundaries here. We strive for a safe space to write IC and OOC. That doesn’t mean don’t write smut ever, just have full, explicit CONSENT. It’s that easy! Don’t be pushy or borderline creepy about it, because that’s the surefire best way to get unfollowed. Have a question? Come to the admin! You don’t have to tag NSFW, but you can if it’s getting extremely graphic, just out of courtesy.

Plotting: Are you reaching out to plot with someone? Have some ideas ready, don’t rely on the other party to come up with all the ideas. Is someone reaching out to you? Make an effort to bring something to the table, but if you feel pressured into coming up with a plot all on your own, it’s okay to decline if you’re not feeling it. Need help coming up with stuff? Reach out to us! We can help. Just don’t reach out to your peers, say you want to plot, and never come up with a starter or anything, then come back time and again asking for ideas when the other person still doesn’t have any. Not only is that annoying, it’s off-putting and indicative that the rp will rely on one person for the most part. Not cute!

Inclusivity: Don’t be afraid of branching out. Everyone likes writing with friends, and that’s a given, but make a conscious effort to reply to open starters. I understand sometimes people are nervous, but that’s something we need to work through. If you’re nervous approaching someone, consider that they might be nervous to approach, too. Don’t make assumptions about people based on what you see alone. Some people gravitate to certain characters, but that doesn’t mean they won’t interact with you. If I had a nickel for how many times people assume my characters won’t want to interact with theirs when that’s not true at all, I’d have a lot of nickels! Open starters are the best way to get a feel for a character. Be creative in your interactions and the way you invite other characters to interact with yours through starters for best results.

YES ✓ “Hey, a starter from this character I haven’t interacted with, let’s gooo!” NO ✘ Ignore starters because you think they only bubble rp and won’t reply to you. (Open starters are open for a reason!)

Respect Time and Muse: Sometimes, people have muse for certain threads, certain characters, and won’t always get to every single reply they owe. If you feel like there is a problem, too much time has passed, please approach that person because it’s likely they missed a response. Tumblr activity feed can be a little weird, and not everyone uses thread trackers. That’s okay! Again, this is a hobby. That being said, don’t agree to plot if you don’t see yourself following through, and please don’t disregard threads you have with other people. That’s frustrating, and you wouldn’t want the same done to you. Some people might be on sporadically throughout the day, or on for a brief time at night, or even be on all day! Either way, they don’t owe you an explanation as to how they’re using their free time. If it gets to the point where anyone is feeling pigeonholed in a plot, it’s affecting your ability to roleplay your character, and you’ve tried communicating, then reach out to us and we’ll help. Everyone’s got the right to write what they enjoy and progress their character’s development.

He Said She Said: Did you hear something from a third party about a person and now refuse to interact with them IC or OOC because of it? You should probably take a step back and ask yourself if it’s actually true or just hearsay just because someone else didn’t like them for whatever reason. A lot of us have similar or same aliases, but we’re not all the same people. If someone personally does something to you, if you SEE certain behavior, by all means bring it to the admin’s attention. But please don’t spread rumors or buy into unsubstantiated claims. That can be more damaging than you realize. Again, we’re all real people on the other side of the screen. What if it was you being talked about?

Unfollowing vs Blocking: Look, we get it. You’re not gonna mesh with everyone. Sometimes people won’t get a hint, or do things that you just do not agree with fundamentally on an OOC level. We have a no blocking rule because we don’t want anyone feeling left out. If you wish to unfollow a character, that’s not optimal, but allowed, but please respectfully let that mun know so they don’t continue to try interacting. If you have been asked to stop interacting, please respect that so it doesn’t HAVE to escalate to admin intervention. That being said, we are here to help and help keep the peace between everyone, so do reach out to us for any reason. Don’t block people. If it does escalate, reach out to the admin so we can step in. If you want to unfollow someone, be sure it’s not solely because of IC actions.

TL;DR: COMMUNICATE OOC and be respectful to your fellow writers. At the end of the day, nobody wants to feel ignored, disrespected, or passed over, so please don’t be the reason why somebody feels this way. Be inclusive as much as you can, but respect that you won’t mesh with everyone. Don’t spread false rumors. Character chemistry, writing style, or content will vary from character to character and mun to mun. If you have any questions at all, the admin team is here to help! But it’s not that deep, Jay, it’s just RP. YEAH, WELL that’s not an excuse to treat people poorly. We can do better.

#boystooc #Jay This Is A Wendy's #🙏🙏🙏#🌿🌿🌿

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masshirohebi-moved · 5 years ago

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GAME OVER (Hit me with your best shot!)

Send ‘GAME OVER’ to get a glimpse of one of the worse possible endings that can happen to my muse in their life regarding your muse.// @super-kame-loveTheir figure is lost amid the sea of scrolls that cover their room, lining the floor and every elevated surface. They lose themself in these words because as it so often happened, they and Kame were once more verbally battling in this endless war of who was to blame. So when the opportunity arose for a one-man mission came up, it hadn’t surprised them that Aina took it. That she snatched the assignment and was gone before anyone truly had a chance to say goodbye. And they can only assume she will be battering her head against a tree before soothing herself with solitude and nature.That would be her way of coping with the constant tension, while the serpent would sit lost in their work. Ignoring basic needs and holing themself away to complete research that needn’t be done with such tenacity. But despite the constant fighting, the Sannin never liked her going on missions alone. Never enjoyed the idea that she would be in the outside elements. She was far too naive for them to trust, that she may fall victim to her own delusions, that she may overlook a danger or error. So they send her with one of their companions despite her wish to be alone. A small summon, that could at least alert the viper should something go wrong. And they think it is only fair, she didn’t want human company. Surely the small bronze snake would not be a nuisance. And it would only be two days later that the small reptile returns, that a message is delivered for them to come to her aid. That she is writing to them without quite knowing if they will arrive in time to hear her goodbye from her own lips. That she is succumbing to injuries after a battle. After completing the mission. That the home she has taken refuge in is doing all they can to spare her, but that she is losing her hope it will be enough. It’s a sensation that has their blood running cold for the first time in years. Where they can not hide the shock that has clawed at every bone in their body, restricting their lungs, forcing them to take sharper breaths.It isn’t even a moment of thinking, for them to abandon every scroll that had seemed so bitterly important moments ago. To dart through a labyrinth like maze, to cut through endless forestry. A small figure nimble as ever amid large branches, amid muddied floors. But there is no certainty they will get there in time, not to wish her goodbye - for that would never placate them, but to save her. There is, after all, too much to apologize for. And while ones life would usually flash before their eyes during their own death, it would appear they could experience the same thing while in limbo about the death of someone they held dear.

“I’ll tell ya what. For somebody who reads so much…you can be a right awful fool.” she says.“And I’ll tell you what, for someone who cries at the smallest injustice in the world, you can be quite the callous bitch,” they say, a smile ever so false coming to their lips.

To think the had spent so much of that time with her in bars, spewing venomous words back and forth. Trying to cut the other deeper with verbal insults and mockery, with judgement and accusation.

“tell me how you actually feel for once.” she asks, ambitious as ever to get through their impenetrable defenses. But she never manages to break inside fully, only ever seeing a glimpse more than others, but a glimpse too little to make sense of them.“Tell me, has being honest about your feelings ever gone well for you?” they ask, “I hide my feelings because it’s better that way. For me, for you, and for everybody else.”

To think they had never once told her how they felt in a clean and transparent manner, that they had hidden every word in a lie, dressed up every truth in an elaborate disguise. That after so many times she had proven her loyalty, they had remained masked, hiding away.

“I’m so sorry! I am so so so sorry! I-I-I didn’ mean it when I said nobody can stand you longer than a night! Well, I–I did mean it but–b-but I’s angry an’ hurt an’…I really thought you wanted me t’ do what I did ‘c-c-cause you like it when somebody’s bold an’ forceful! An’ then when you r'jected me anyway, I…Orochimaru, I love you! If I could spend ev'ry single night with you, I would! B-but that ain’t what'cha wanna hear right now, is it…? I’m sorry. Please don’ stop bein’ my friend. P-please don’ leave me alone again…what can I do t’ r'deem myself?”But the viper barely even looks up to give this moment the seriousness it demands.“You needn’t do anything,” they respond, their focus remaining on their previous activity. Golden eyes never leaving the vial in their hand, a liquid far too garish a colour to be safe, “we’ve done this song and dance enough times by now dear. I’ll save this moment for the next time I mess something up. It’s bound to happen eventually. And then the score will be equal. Now pass me the empty vial to your left won’t you?”

To think they never did accept her apologies, nor her shows of affections, nor her promises of devotion. That they had brushed it all of, that they had thought themself safe if they were indifferent.

“Do you know how sad you look sometimes?” she says.Caught red handed, exposed under her gaze. Revealed to be human when they so desperately cloaked themself in the skins of the innocent they damned, trying to appear monstrous. A camouflage to keep them safe. And they have only one answer, when worn eyes give evidence to her words, a weak but stubborn reply. “I’m just in thought.”

To think they hadn’t realized they could hide all they wanted, but that she knew them more intimately than those who had known them since a child. That no matter how fiercely they guarded their heart… she already had possession of it.What should take them a day only takes them hours, though it feels far more endless when they fear her death every passing second. The house that is mapped out for them is soon clear in sight, and they don’t hesitate to take a few adrenaline fueled steps inside. Panting, labored breaths that have their chest falling in and out frantically, hair losing its usual shimmer and damp with sweat. Eyes disbelieving, as if they are desperate for a sign they will not lose her. But when they push the door open, and their form enters in to the middle of the room, they are not greeted by what they thought they would be.She is there, sitting uninjured, with an unreadable emotion marking her eyes. Is it pity? Anger? Apology? It takes them a moment too long to realize what has happened, as they slowly look away from her and around the room. Seals mark every inch, faint, but noticeable if one paid close attention. Inked markings that snake along the ceiling, walls and floor. Seals that instantly have their chakra frozen, immobilized. And they are still trying to piece it together for themself, until the approach of Konoha shinobi arrive, until Aina moves away from her chair, ever in good health, and goes to stand by Tsunade.It takes them a few moments to react, to allow themself to register that their friend had never been in danger. That their friend had turned them in to the Hidden Leaf, that she had helped them lure the serpent in to this trap. A smile cracks upon their lips, a laugh only half formed falling from them. And it is almost as if they are impressed, a deranged form of applauding Aina. Golden eyes meet honey brown ones, they do not acknowledge anyone else in the room. Even if their fate hangs on the shoulders of the Fifth Hokage and her platoon. Even if the group of shinobi approach to detain the serpent, able to ensnare them without the risk of being killed. For a snake is no threat after it has been defanged. And Aina had ripped each incisor from sharpened jaws without their notice.“My my, that was quite the show Kame. You truly had me fooled.”They don’t resist the arrest, for they know any movement will have this rapidly changing in to an execution. Compliance may be the only way to spare themself in this moment, as their arms are roughly tugged behind their back, as a small device is buried in and around their wrist to feed on their chakra and control it. As every precaution known is laced around their form to prevent them having an ounce of an opportunity to fight back. And they know, they should feel hurt by this betrayal. They should feel as if their entire world had come crumbling down around them. They should feel a fool for having ever trusted, a child for having fallen in to an obvious trap. But none of those feelings surface, and it is a daze like state they are not quite sure they wish to fall out of. But there is one promise in their eyes, and a promise they offer her.“It won’t be long before you get yours, my dear. Traitors like us don’t get to win.”

#super-kame-love #||●ANSWERED-❝disclosed❞#||●QUEUE-❝the white serpent hides❞#/long post

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sugarcoated-pain · 6 years ago

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Heavy Rotation-Part Two

Alright guys, I know it’s been a while but I’ve finally finished Part Two of my series, Heavy Rotation.

Best Friends to Lovers (eventually) trope- original character + Ashton

Part One

Warnings: Cussing and drinking. I think that’s about it though.

Another giant thanks to my homegirl @sublimehood for helping again!

“Come on, guys! Just one more game!” I beg, bouncing on the loveseat next to Ashton. I'm sitting cross-legged with my knee against his thigh and he has not moved away. I take small victories where I can get them. In the three months I've lived with these guys, I've started a little game I secretly like to call 'how much can I flirt with Ashton without anybody noticing’.

“No fucking way. Absolutely not.” Calum replies as he abandons his place on the couch next to Georgia to get another beer.

“You kicked our asses FOURTEEN times! Why the hell would we keep playing?” Mikey declares indignantly, tossing the Wii controller on the coffee table.

“Yeah I’m fucking done.” Luke chimes in.

“Don’t be sore losers. It’s very unattractive.” I add condescendingly, eliciting a chuckle from Georgia.

Ashton takes a swig off of his beer before contributing to the conversation, “I’m still playing. I came THIS fucking close to winning last round! But you have to change your character this time. No more ‘Lucky Luigi’. “ he mocks, “and we’re doing Battle Mode.”

“Deal!”

Just as the next round starts, I hear a knock at the door.

“I’ll get it.” Mikey says as he jumps up to answer the door. “Oh. Hey Camille, come on in.” Oh, NOW he moves his leg. Typical.

“Hey babe! What're you doin here?”Ashton asks, pausing the game and standing up to greet her.

“Uh, you said we could go to the club tonight, remember?” She shoots me a glare, potentially having noticed how close he and I were just sitting. I roll my eyes and unpause the game while Ashton is distracted and proceed to kick his ass.

“GODDAMNIT EMMA! You little shit!” He laughs “Come on, not cool!” He shouts, grabbing his Wii controller and pausing it once again. “The club, that's right, “ he adds, hearing Camille's impatient huff as she crosses her arms. “Yeah no problem, let me just get changed. You guys wanna come?” He asks the room at large. To Camille’s clear delight, no one else was interested.

The two of them were gone within fifteen minutes, and it wasn’t long after when Luke and Michael retreated to their rooms. I continue playing Mario Kart with Georgia while Calum rests his feet in her lap, leaning back on the couch and browsing aimlessly on his cell phone.

“BRB.” Cal says, eliciting an eye roll from myself and Georgia, as he gets up and heads down the hall to the bathroom.

No sooner do we hear the door close than Georgia pauses the game and rounds on me. “Alright, spill.” She demands.

“Uh.. you're gonna need to be a little more specific.”

“You and Ashton! Something is definitely happening between the two of you...” Georgia watches me with intrigue as an excited grin passes over her face.

I unpause the game nonchalantly. “I have absolutely no idea what you're talking about.”

“Oh come on, Em!” She pauses the game yet again. “I know you better than that by now. You can trust me.”

I sigh, and look around the room to make sure no one else is around. “Okay. Fine. I may or may not have ...slightly more than platonic feelings for him...” Georgia lets out an excited squeal, but I cut her off before she can say anything “BUT. I have no intention of ever acting on this. He has a girlfriend and I am not here for guys. I am here to make music and I'm not letting anybody distract me.”

“Seriously?! 'His girlfriend’ is awful and you know it. He deserves WAY better than her. And what if he feels the same way you do?”

“What if who feels the same way?” Of course Calum walks back into the room at that exact moment. He makes his way back to his spot on the couch, eyeing us both curiously.

“NOBODY!” I shout a little too quickly, glaring at Georgia, who is now wide eyed and holding her hands over her mouth.

He grins mischievously and leans closer to her while watching me curiously. “Nope. I'm not buyin it. I know what I heard. Come on. I'll get it out of her sooner or later so you might as well just tell me…”

Georgia looks like she's about to explode. “UGH fine!” I snap and bury my head in my hands.

“EMMA HAS FEELINGS FOR ASHTON!” she whisper-shouts excitedly, bouncing a little as she says it.

Calum grins. “Excellent! Let's call him and tell him right now. I bet he dumps that dumb bitch on the spot!”

“NO! ABSOLUTELY NOT! He cannot find out! Do you understand me?? Neither one of you can ever speak a word or this!” I demand frantically.

“Emma, he's my best friend. I can't NOT tell him something like this.” He replies, pulling out his cell phone.

I immediately slap it out of his hand and onto the floor. “I'm dead serious. He is currently in a relationship and I, on the other hand, am not looking for a relationship. Ashton can't ever find out. Nobody can. PLEASE. I'm begging you.”

They exchange a look. “Fine, I won't say anything.” Cal replies with a huff, glaring at me angrily as he reaches to pick up his phone.

“But Em, I know you don't really want to be single forever.. don't you ever get lonely?” Georgia asks.

“That's what Tinder is for. I'm not interested in anything more than a one night stand right now, and roommates slash best friends are NOT one night stand material.” I pick my cell phone up off the coffee table and start to get up. “I'm going to bed, but please promise me you will keep this between us?” They both nod.

Once in my room, I plop onto my bed with a deep sigh. Guess I took my little game too far, but no more. It’s time to get serious and stop daydreaming about the guy across the hall. No more flirting. No more touching. It’s music time. I grab my favorite journal that has my best song lyrics written in it, and climb out my window onto the fire escape. In my first week in the apartment, I discovered one of my favorite places in the whole world : our rooftop. With a perfect view of the LA skyline, it is by far the best place in this building for song writing. There isn't a ton of space up there, just room for a couple of people comfortably. I found that out in my second week here when I went up there only to discover I'm not the only one who uses this hideout. Ashton was already sitting there, but he let me join him. And of course, we talked music, cracked stupid jokes, shared a joint, and had deep philosophical conversations for hours- the usual “just friends” stuff, right?

I was glad to know he wouldn't be up there tonight though. I needed my rooftop spot for thinking and writing. With my favorite fuzzy throw blanket around my shoulders, I start writing. All my thoughts and emotions from the day easily flow out of me, through my lucky red gel pen and onto the paper. Lately, my writing has mostly revolved around my feelings for two things: my dramatic change in scenery, and Ashton. I hold it back and fight it off as best as I can in the daylight, but up here alone, I can’t help writing about him. What can I say, he seems to be my muse. After I’m completely drained of words and energy, I head back down the fire escape to go to bed.

The next day starts out the same as any other. Camille stayed over and is walking around in one of Ashton’s shirts and little else, which makes me sick to my stomach so I avoid the kitchen at all costs until it’s time to head downstairs for work. It’s my turn to open the record store. Everybody else will probably wander down whenever they feel like it. Joys of being the newbie.

I go through the opening checklist that the guys made for me, and finally open the doors. It's a Saturday so we will probably be busy later in the day, but nobody is ever here first thing in the morning. I wander around hunting for busy work to do, but eventually end up sitting behind the counter doodling on receipt paper. After a while, Luke comes down to start his shift in the store, and I see that someone has opened up the recording studio.

As one would expect, my obsession with that studio has only grown in the time I've been there. Once Luke gets settled, I casually wander through that heavy purple curtain, under the guise of making sure the trash cans were emptied the night before. Ashton is already helping some random musician nobody has ever heard of record their album. I'm fascinated by everything happening in the room- the buttons, the knobs,the lights, the flawless human being operating them all so effortlessly.

“Oh! Hey Em. I didn't see ya there.” His voice breaks me from my trance.

“Morning.. I'm just .. uh.. just making sure the trash was taken out in here last night…” I reply as I quickly grab the nearest can.

“Bullshit. I watched you empty them last night.” Ashton chuckles. “You're just trying to get close to the board again to see how it works….”

“Yep. That's definitely all I was looking at. You caught me..”

“Well, come on then.” He motions for me to take the chair next to him.

“Seriously?!”

“Yeah. This is a pretty easy client. Good one for you to learn on. Sit down.” I hop over to the empty swivel chair excitedly. Ashton shakes his head with a small laugh at my enthusiasm, and then begins talking through the different steps in the process. I force myself to concentrate on the words he is telling me, and not the way his perfect hazel eyes light up when he talks about something he's really passionate about.

After about thirty minutes, Luke frantically pops his head into the studio. “There you are! Come on, Emma, I’m gettin my ass kicked out here!”

“Oops sorry!” I bounce up quickly to follow him out, before turning back to Ashton. “Hey thanks for showin me this stuff.. It was awesome.”

He smiles. “Anytime.”

My shift goes by in a blur after that. Any moments not involving customers are spent daydreaming about my time with Ashton this morning. That nagging part of my brain that knows he’s off limits tries to stop me, but I can’t help myself. He was so sweet and patient with me today. Since I’ve gotten here, Ash has definitely been the most interested in my music and the most supportive on my path to learn more about the music industry in general. I know by now that this is just the type of guy he is, but there is another part of me that wishes it was more than that.

The guys have band practice scheduled that evening. There’s a small, old warehouse attached to the back of the store that Liz let’s them practice in. They’re pretty good together but their practices are entertaining as hell to sit in on. Georgia and I have started bringing snacks and booze to watch. We even recently made a drinking game out of some of the stuff that regularly happens. I lay out a blanket on the floor for us to sit on and start setting up camp while Georgia playfully feeds popcorn to Calum while he’s getting ready. They’re so cute I could puke.

“Hey G, first shot of the game. Mikey’s late again.” I say as I pour cheap vodka into two dixie cups. Georgia takes hers as she sits down next to me on the blanket.

“Cheers.” she says, holding it out as if to toast. I clank my plastic cup to hers and down it in one quick motion.

Michael finally shows up and practice begins. I pour white wine into two red solo cups for Georgia and I.

Relaxing a bit as they finally start playing, I find a comfortable sitting position and take in the music. They're actually getting better, even in just the few months I've been here. But what I really love about their practices is how passionate they all are about their music, particularly Ashton. The way he moves when playing the drums, the intensity in his face. It's mesmerising.

“I've got an idea for another one..” Georgia says in a low tone with a mischievous grin, leaning closer to me. “YOU have to take a drink every time I catch you checking Ashton out.”

“GODDAMNIT GEORGIA!” It's meant to be a whisper but it comes out as more of a hiss, as I look around frantically making sure nobody else heard her.

She laughs, “Actually, make it a shot this time. You were practically drooling.”

As I pour another shot into my dixie cup, I glare at her. “I hate you.” Georgia laughs again as I throw back my shot.

Practice continues and I make an extra effort not to look at Ashton. This is apparently an impossible task for me at this point. His energy on that drum kit is like a black hole sucking me in. I try to find other things to focus on. I stare at Luke for a while. He’s pretty enough to keep my attention, right?

“OH! Luke touched his hair. Take a drink.” I say. Georgia and I both drink.

“And now Ashton is drumming on something that isn’t his drums. Drink.” Georgia said, smirking in my direction.

“Are you purposely drawing my attention to him drumming on his thighs so I have to drink AGAIN?” I shake my head and take another drink while she laughs at me as the guys start playing their next song. Within a matter of seconds, I realize I don’t recognize it. I’ve been overly familiar with all the covers they usually play, and now know the couple of originals they’ve thrown in but this one is different.

“Is this an original?” I ask Georgia curiously.

“I guess so.” She shrugs.

It’s surprisingly good. I’m actually genuinely enjoying this song. It’s heartfelt and emotional, raw even. It has a different feel than most of the other songs they play, but in a really good way. They stop a couple times during the song to discuss aspects of it, and I can tell they aren’t completely happy with it, particularly Ashton.

“There’s just something about the bridge that didn’t feel right.” He says, tapping his drumstick absentmindedly on his knee, as he often does when he’s thinking. They continue debating it for a couple minutes, struggling to agree with what was missing from the sound.

“For the bridge, what if you switch the vocals only to a minor key, but keep the guitar in major?” I chime in loudly. Everybody stops talking and turns to me.

“What?!” Luke asks, apparently stunned that I would speak up during their sacred practice.

“No that’s actually a REALLY good idea. You up for trying it, Luke?” Ashton asks, with a quick smile at me. I really hope I’m not blushing but I’m almost positive I am. Luke shrugs. They start the bridge over, but this time with Luke singing the lead in a minor key. It sounds a million times better, or maybe I’m biased. Georgia turns to me, completely impressed. They finish the song, and Ashton is beaming at me. The other guys nod their approval, looks of mild shock on their faces. They all thank me and compliment me on the idea.

When they’re all finished, Ashton walks over to me. “That was seriously a genius tip.”

“Ha. Thanks. It was already an excellent song, just needed a little tweak.” I shrug, hoping again I’m not fucking blushing.

“You really like it? That means a lot. I wrote this one.”

“I’m not surprised at all.” I say quickly under my breath.

“What is that supposed to mean?” He asks with a curious smirk.

“Never mind.” I answer as I finish packing up our little picnic site to head back upstairs.

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

#heavy rotation #5sos #5sos fanfic #5 seconds of summer #5 seconds of summer fanfiction #5sos fanfiction #ashton irwin #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford

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babywarg · 6 years ago

Text

ironstrange fic: Love Through Time

This ran on a bit long (close to 5k words). I can’t seem to write shortfic anymore, help T_T

Does anyone else love the new dark blue Tumblr theme? I love it. So soothing to the eyes

Notes: This is a fill for this prompt: “Tony discovers an old drawing of, and finally remembers, his invisible friend Stephen from when he was a child.”

originally on AO3.

tagging @cumberunicorn-ceioln, as requested :)

“Mr. Stark,” Edward Jarvis greeted. “I’ve come with the items you requested.”

“Hm?’ Tony’s mind leapt out of his musing. He was in his laboratory, trying to solve a particularly sticky schematics issue with a new suit he was developing. “I didn’t request anything.”

“You did, sir,” Jarvis gently corrected. “You said I should salvage whatever I felt was necessary of your family’s summer home, and bring them to you.”

“Oh...yeah.”

The Starks’ summer home. It was a white elephant; nobody wanted to rent it, and selling it off was proving to be troublesome, considering the high real estate rates in the city it was in.

Tony had thought it best to sell or auction off the things in it, and let the space itself rot, if that was its fate.

“So the auction guys have everything else, right? How much was left?”

“Not much, sir,” Jarvis informed him. “I took the liberty of using the old toy box in the nursery as a receptacle. It was where most of the items were stored, anyway.”

Jarvis held out a small, plain wooden box to him.

“Very good, Jarvis, thanks,” he absently said as he took it.

When Jarvis had left, Tony opened the box.

There were old medals from summer school, old photographs...encouraging notes from his mother. Those were always a treat.

Then there were the old drawings.

The crayon sketches Maria Stark had kept, for no good reason.

One of them made Tony pause.

Made time stop.

***

On the sketch was a tall, lanky man with a long face.

A loose blue long-sleeved shirt.

A red cloak.

Blue-green eyes.

And gray hair brushed back from his temples.

The man was standing beside a little boy with dark hair, whom Tony presumed to be himself.

Little Tony held a wrench (it was called an adjustable spanner, he knew now) on his right hand.

The man in the cloak had a halo of golden light around his left hand.

It was a cute, innocent child’s drawing.

Which was why Tony couldn’t explain the sudden, splitting headache he got after looking at it.

“FRIDAY,” he said to the room, “save everything, but keep the simulations running. I need a nap.”

“Will do, boss,” the room answered.

Tony dragged himself to the couch in the living room upstairs, and threw himself down on it. He didn’t make it to any of the bedrooms. He didn’t really want to.

He just wanted his headache to go away.

So, right after collapsing, he closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.

***

The very first time Stephen made an appearance was when Tony was still in the cradle.

It stands to reason Tony was too little to remember.

Baby Tony had been awakened by the loud male voice yelling “NO!!” that came out of nowhere. He had been frightened. He had cried.

He had been too little to comprehend the loud noises. The lights that had flooded his room. The tall shadow that had been bent over his cradle and his unsuspecting self. The screaming that had come from his tiny, panicked lungs.

The large, shaking hands that had picked him up, rocked him until he calmed down.

And the soft voice that had said “Ssh, I’m here now. I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re loved. You’re safe.”

He was starting to fall asleep again, when he felt himself being lowered gently back down to his cradle. He fidgeted, unable to help himself.

That was when his mother raced into the room to pick him up, hold him close.

She said only the same things that the low, male voice had said.

And, doubly reassured, little Tony was able to go back to sleep, finally.

***

The first time he realized he was a Stark was when his father slapped him across the face.

He’d fallen from his bike, scraped his knee, and wept in pain in front of his father.

His father had not liked that he had fallen off the bike. He liked it even less that he cried afterwards.

“Stark men are made of iron,” his father had told him.

He was 6 years old. Before that time, he had thought he was...

...happy.

Not a Stark.

Not a Stark man.

And certainly not made of iron.

But these didn’t make sense to Tony, at the time. These words, the sting, just burned into him, without explanation.

His father walked away, and told everyone watching to leave along with him. “He fell on his own, let him learn to stand on his own,” was his specific instruction.

So 6-year-old Tony found himself alone, sitting on the ground, sobbing and nursing his wounded knee.

A shadow fell over him. He looked up to see a tall, lanky man, wearing a large red cape that blocked Tony’s view of the sun.

“That doesn’t look good,” the man said. His voice was low, soothing and oddly familiar.

Tony wiped his nose. “Who’re you?”

“Someone who shouldn’t be here...”

The man sat in front of Tony.

“...but I guess supernatural threats aren’t all I’m here to shield you from.”

He reached out as if to touch Tony’s knee. Tony flinched but did not move away. His hand stopped short of skin making contact.

Tony noticed that his hand was shaking.

A halo of golden light appeared on the man’s hand. Tony could feel it: it was warm.

Within seconds, the scrape on his knee healed. It was as if it had never even been there.

“Wow!” Tony exclaimed happily. “You fixed it! Thanks, mister!”

The man smiled.

“No need to thank me,” he said to the child. “I’m a doctor. It’s what I do.”

***

“Who’s that, Tony?”

He held up his unfinished crayon drawing for his mother to see.

On the drawing was a tall, thin man with a red cloak. Tony was still starting to draw a dark-haired little boy standing beside him.

“My friend,” Tony proudly answered. “Doctor Magic. We’ve been hanging out.”

Maria Stark smiled. “Is that really his name?”

Tony shrugged. “I call him that. He’s my friend, so I got to name him.”

Tony went back to finishing his drawing.

Maria Stark wondered if she had reason to be nervous. Tony was always surrounded by adults tasked by her husband Howard to look after him. But she didn’t remember any one of them having blue-green eyes and black hair that grayed at the temples.

Still...a man in a cape, and a glowing hand? Surely this was someone Tony had made up.

“I’m really glad you made a friend, Tony. Maybe your father and I can meet him sometime?”

“No...Doctor Magic says only I can see him. He says that’s because he’s a wizard.”

“A wizard, is he?”

“Yep! He’s magic. That’s how he fixes things.”

He just had a thought. He put down his crayons and faced his mom, his face beaming with excitement.

“Mom, when I grow up, I wanna fix things, too. I wanna be a wizard!”

“Oh dear,” Maria chuckled, “don’t let your father hear that.”

Tony pouted.

***

“That’s a bad idea, Tony,” Doctor Magic said.

Still pouting, he demanded: “Why can’t I be a wizard?”

Doctor Magic laid his hand on Tony’s head.

“We all have our place,” he said to the child gently. “We’re both around to fix things. I can do it with magic. You can do it...in other ways.”

“I don’t want to do it in other ways! I want to be like you!”

Doctor Magic was about to protest, but the child lunged forward and hugged him, hard. It took the breath out of his lungs for a bit.

That was the only way Tony knew how to hold his first friend. His only friend.

“When I’m a wizard,” Tony muttered, “I can be with you all the time. You never have to leave. And we can go anywhere. We can go away.”

Doctor Magic pulled away briefly, so he could go down on one knee. That way, he could wrap his arms around Tony.

His magic cloak wrapped itself around Tony, too. The only time Tony ever felt warmer, was in the arms of his mother.

“I’ve already stayed too long, Tony,” Doctor Magic whispered. “I just...didn’t leave right away because I wanted to see you happy and smiling a bit longer. I need to leave again soon.”

“Take me with you?” Tony pleaded. “And my Mom, too?”

Doctor Magic sighed.

“I’m sorry,” he said to the boy. “It’s for the best.”

He wouldn’t leave Tony upset, though. They spent the rest of that last summer day together, with Doctor Magic conjuring fanciful images and stories out of thin air, amusing the little boy until tiredness and sleep took him.

6-year-old Tony woke in his bed alone, from a dream of blue-green butterflies and a soft, low voice telling him about how he was safe, how he was cared for, and how he would never be alone.

***

Tony couldn’t sleep. So many thoughts were running through his head.

And the headache still wouldn’t vanish.

“FRIDAY,” he said into thin air, “dial the Sanctum. Try to reach Doctor Strange for me.”

After a long pause, thin air reported: “Sorry, boss. Wong says he’s not available. Says he’s on a mission.”

“When will he be back?”

“Didn’t say, boss.”

For a moment he considered going back downstairs and looking at the drawing in the box again. But something told him it wouldn’t make his headache any better.

There was no earthly explanation for why he’d made a drawing of a man who looked like Doctor Strange when he was little.

The memories were a blur, and trying to make sense of them was physically painful, but he was sure he’d made that drawing. He remembered showing it to his mother.

He remembered golden light, and the scar on his knee disappearing. How warm it was to be enveloped in a red cloak, those arms.

But it couldn’t be him.

***

Tony saw him again on the night of his parents' funeral. He was 21 years old, out drinking and partying, as perhaps everyone expected. It was “his way of dealing with grief.”

He was fumbling in his pocket for the keys to his car, when he saw someone coming in out of the shadows, from the corner of his eye.

The newcomer stepped into the light: it was a tall guy wearing a weird blue tunic and a ridiculously swishy red cape.

“Hey, man,” Tony greeted, slurring. “Neat costume. It isn’t Halloween, though, right?”

“Tony,” the man said firmly. “Don’t get in that car.”

“Mmh? Why not?”

“In a matter of minutes, a powerful, formless entity will find its way to you. If you’re on the road when it happens, it’s going to be much harder for me to protect you.”

“Protect me?” Tony laughed incredulously. “From what? Vicious balloon animals?” He waved the man away. “Get lost, doc.”

“Doc,” The man repeated. He stepped forward. “You remember, don’t you? You know who I am.”

Tony stopped short of pressing the button to unlock his car.

“Can’t be him, though,” he answered, without looking at the man. “Wasn’t real.”

The man snatched his car keys from his hand, held them up to the level of Tony’s eyes.

“That real enough for you?”

With one swift gesture, the keys in his hand disappeared.

Tony chuckled.

“You know I got spares of those. But I’m not taking them out now, ‘cause you’re just gonna magic them away again.”

“I know you have a spare key. I’m imploring you not to use it.”

“Sure you’re not a mugger? ‘Cause a mugger’s easier...”

“The worst-case scenario is that in the morning, people are going to find the wreck of your car at the bottom of a cliff and conclude that you’d driven yourself off the road while drunk. Which, in fairness, is something you’re likely to do in this state.

“What will really happen is that a creature will attack you, you will lose control of the car, and the creature will manage to kill you, as he wanted.” His voice softened unexpectedly. “Trust me, Tony. I fix things. Let me fix this one before it breaks.”

Inebriated as he was, Tony had a hard time looking the guy in the eye. But those blue-green-what-the-fuck-color-is-that magic eyes just drew him in.

“Look.” He faced the newcomer, though he had a hard time staying upright. “If you’re who I think you are, I haven’t seen you in years, and you don’t get to make demands of me. I don’t owe you shit.”

“There’s no time - “ the newcomer began. But then he caught himself and sighed.

“- you’re right, Tony. You deserve an explanation. So this is my proposition. Stay with me here, where I can keep you safe. Sober up just a little, just enough. And I promise I’ll explain everything.”

Tony considered this for a moment. He truly wasn’t in a hurry to go home.

Maybe it wouldn’t be too bad to sober up in this weirdo’s company. Besides, there was something about the way the man said “keep you safe” that sounded...real.

***

“Before you say anything,” Tony began, “I want to let you know how shitty you are.”

Tony sat on the hood of his car, nursing a cup of coffee his companion had magicked out of nowhere.

His companion wasn’t drinking anything. He simply sat beside Tony, alert and listening.

“You stayed with me just one summer, then whoosh, you were gone,” Tony kept griping. “Some imaginary friend. I thought you guys could be summoned on command.”

“We’re not genies in lamps,” the older man retorted. “And I don’t even count as imaginary. I’m flesh and blood, just like you.”

“Yeah? Then you got a name, too? Pretty sure it’s not ‘Doctor Magic.’ “

“Close, actually.” The man smiled. “My name is Doctor Stephen Strange. You can call me Stephen.”

“How about I call you a jerk?”

Stephen said nothing.

“I waited and waited, but you didn’t come back.”

He said it into his coffee cup, almost as if Stephen shouldn’t have overheard. He sounded like a little kid. 21 years old, a man now, old enough to drink himself stupid and drive himself off a cliff.

But to Stephen, he sounded 6 years old and lost.

“You’re wrong, you know,” he said quietly. “I wasn’t with you just that summer.”

Tony snorted. “You were the only playmate I had at the time. I’d recall if you were around.”

“Do you remember having dreams about me, at various points in your life?”

Tony blinked.

This was the first time dreams were brought up.

On the night before he was shipped off to boarding school, he had dreamed of Doctor Magic holding him close, saying he would be all right...and he remembered waking up from that dream thinking yeah, being away from his Mom and his bedroom-turned-laboratory wouldn’t be so bad...

He also remembered dreams where Doctor Magic fought off things that attacked him - a demon, a dragon, a giant disembodied cloud. Sometimes, Doctor Magic came off the battle badly wounded, and just left...but sometimes, he emerged relatively unscathed, and in a good mood, and he stuck around a bit longer.

At times like those, Doctor Magic spirited little Tony away. He showed Tony other dimensions, other timelines - realities where his father wasn’t a gigantic dick, and where he didn’t have a father, or a mother even. Places where flora and fauna that didn’t exist on earth, thrived. Animals that talked, colors that the human mind could never have conceived of...

Remembering all this gave Tony a headache. He touched his fingers to his temple.

“...Ow.”

“Yep.” Stephen was unfazed by the overt display of pain. “That was me. Saying hi.”

When Tony was able to shake off the discomfort, he continued:

“You...really jumped through time, into my dreams,” - he narrowed his eyes at Stephen - “just to say hi?”

“Well, no. Technically they weren’t dreams.” Stephen scratched his head, as he thought of the words that might explain it best. “Each time you had a ‘dream,’ it was me pulling you into...I don’t know what else to call it except a ‘mirror dimension.’ Most of the time, it was because I had to fight an entity that was coming for you. Then wipe as much of our encounter from your memory as I could, before restoring you to reality.”

Tony’s still-sobering mind was having trouble keeping up.

“Wiping the what from my what?” He shook his head, in a feeble attempt to shake understanding into it. “You can do that??”

Stephen looked a little guilty.

“Memory spells aren’t foolproof. They’re like - throwing a blanket over the part of your brain that remembers certain things. They don’t really erase anything, but rather obscure them, until they’re triggered and the blanket comes off.

“In your case, it seems that while you remember having had a ‘Doctor Magic’ to play with as a child, chances are you’ll remember every encounter we’ve ever had. And if they don’t make sense, your mind is going to process them as dreams.” He narrowed his eyes at Tony, as if studying how his brain worked. “I think I’ll have to do something about that...”

Unsettled by his staring, Tony leaned forward, rested his elbows on his knees.

“You promised me an explanation,” he reminded Stephen. “Why are you even...stalking me? If that’s the word? Why bother with me at all?”

Stephen leaned forward as well, linked his fingers together.

“I can tell you all of this, because in the end I’m going to wipe every memory you’ve ever had of me, and you won’t remember a thing.”

“Cool. Fun. Hit me.”

He wasn’t taking this seriously. Which worked to Stephen’s benefit. He didn’t want a scene at the end of all of this.

“Many years from now,” Stephen began, “a powerful time-traveling being is going to pick a fight with me. It’s going to be a big fight. He’s going to want me dead.

“But since he won’t be able to kill me, he’ll go back in time and try to kill the people who are most important to me. I’ve already recruited the help of interdimensional beings to make sure my parents and family are safe. He won’t be able to get to them, so they’ll be able to get to their natural ends...”

“ ‘Natural ends’?” Tony interrupted.

Stephen answered, “They’ll die, Tony. All of them. Leaving me alone. Like they’re supposed to.”

The resigned tone in his voice told Tony what he needed to know: Doctor Stephen Strange travels through time, but doesn’t meddle with fate.

That wasn’t enough of an answer for the young, emotionally fragile Tony.

“However, the help I’ve been able to secure is limited to people with whom I share blood ties.” Stephen looked at his younger companion. “And because you don’t...he can get to you.”

“Me? Why me?”

“Because I care about you, Tony. That makes you a target.”

“Then why didn’t you stop my dad from hurting me or my Mom?” he asked, in a deliberately hostile tone. “If it’s true that you cared...you were there, you must have known. Why didn’t you help?”

It was a loaded question. Hard enough to answer while looking into an angry young Tony’s eyes. So Stephen looked away.

“I can’t interfere with what happened to you. I can only save your life, during all those times you were never meant to die.”

“Okay, then answer me this, wise guy: why do you have to save my life? Why not just let me die?”

He could almost see Stephen’s heart breaking through his eyes.

“Because you’re important, Tony.”

“Oh yeah? Important to whom?”

“The world, mostly. But also me.” He took a deep breath, and sighed out, “I love you, Tony. The older you. The one you’ll be decades from now.”

Tony fell silent.

“I know that of all the crazy things I’ve told you tonight, this is the craziest, so I’m going to give you a moment to process that...”

Tony took that moment. When he was done, he asked slowly, “Why am I not allowed to remember you telling me that?”

“Because, in the future, you don’t love me back. You don’t even know how I feel.” Stephen smiled sadly at him. “That’s how it is. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

Tony thought about it some more. Then he leapt off the hood to pace a bit.

“You love me, though, right?” he said loudly to Stephen, presently. “Now - I mean, right now? You love me? Enough to save my life, at least?”

Stephen noticed a young couple walking nearby, staring at Tony and whispering. He realized they must feel weird, watching Tony pointing to his car and yelling “You love me” at it.

As per the deflection spell he’d always been careful to cast, nobody but Tony could see him.

Fortunately, a drunk, raving young Tony wasn’t exactly an uncommon sight in those parts. (By this point, Tony was actually completely sober. But nobody else needed to know that.)

“Tony,” he answered, “I love the version of you that I met after he’s gone through all the pain. All the heartbreak. All the mistakes he never got the chance to fix. The person who had survived so long and so well without me. Given the chance, I would love him over and over.”

Stephen left his seat on the hood, walked up closer to the young man.

“But if you’re not going to be that person...I don’t know how I’ll feel. If you grow up remembering me, and the things I’ve said and done, you may no longer be the Tony Stark I met. The one I’d love through time.”

Tony stuck his hands in his pockets.

“So,” he carefully began, “let me get this straight - if I remember you...you may not love me? Ever?”

Stephen nodded. “That’s...one of many likely outcomes.”

“And if you don’t love me...the creature you’re fighting now doesn’t come after me at all. Do I get that right?”

Stephen paused, then nodded again.

“That...is also a likely outcome.”

“Doesn’t that mean it’s better for you to let me remember, and to just not fall in love with me as a result?”

A look of sadness crossed Stephen’s face.

“Tony,” he said softly. “What makes you think I’d want a future where I don’t fall in love with you?”

Tony stared long and hard at the person who had just said what was either the sweetest or the most terrifying thing ever said to him.

Stephen returned that stare evenly. He had only told the truth so far. There was no reason to falter.

Eventually, Tony looked away, asked, “Am I really worth it?”

“You’re worth everything.”

“...All right. Then I don’t care. I don’t care if I don’t remember you.” He looked back at Stephen again, spread his arms wide. “If there’s a chance in hell you’ll fall for me, I’ll take it.”

His sudden light-heartedness worried Stephen. Was there something the boy misunderstood? “Tony...”

“Listen, doc. This is just me being practical. A magic man falls for me in the future, goes back in time and saves my life - why would I say no to that?”

He looked Stephen up and down and smirked.

“Besides...I can do much worse, you know?”

Both of Stephen’s eyebrows rose. He laughed incredulously.

“Are you seriously hitting on me right now?” He reached out for a friendly pat on the boy’s upper arm. “Grow some decent facial hair first, then we’ll talk.”

Tony caught his hand. Held it. It trembled in his grip.

“Doc...”

Then he caught Stephen’s gaze, held it, too.

“Don’t let older me stay in the dark about your feelings, okay?” He released Stephen’s hand. “I don’t know what goes down when it happens...but at the very least...I’m sure it won’t kill him to know.”

“Won’t it?” Stephen’s smile was sad again. “Trust me, Tony, your future self has a lot of problems. Adding to them is...not in my job description.”

The smile Tony shot back at him was radiant with confidence.

“Haven’t you heard, doc? Stark men are made of iron. He can take it.”

His fearlessness was infectious. Stephen found himself feeling like things were on the right track.

Much like how the older Tony made him feel.

As Stephen thought about this, there was a rumbling, a sound of thunder just over their heads.

And there was no time to think of anything else.

“He’s here,” Stephen pointed out. “It’s time, Tony.”

Tony nodded, suddenly grim. “Do it, doc.”

Stephen took a deep breath, then held his hand up in front of Tony’s face. Already, a golden glow was starting to emerge from the center of his palm.

Tony closed his eyes.

***

These were the memories hidden away:

All the kind words. All the peaceful embraces. The other worlds and dimensions and the blue-green butterflies that used to give the little boy so much comfort to watch. The laughter and corny jokes and assurances that everything was going to be all right.

All the way back to the cradle.

Except.

Stephen was going to let him keep one.

The only memory that was harmless to keep.

The memory of lights, then soothing darkness, and warmth, and a voice telling him he was safe.

***

“He may not come back today,” Wong warned him.

“Yep, I heard you.” Tony proceeded into the Sanctum.

“Those might be wilted by the time he returns...”

“No problem.” Tony glanced down at the bouquet of blue and mint-green roses in his arm. “I’ll just get new ones.”

He could hear Wong shaking his head behind him. Wong had a way of shaking his head that carried across the room.

Something told Tony he’d better get used to that head-shake.

Per tradition, Stephen was supposed to appear in the topmost floor of the Sanctum after a mission.

That was where Tony saw it fit to wait.

Hours passed. He’d paced up and down the floor. Finished reading through his daily news feed twice over (narrowly avoiding some unnecessarily nasty Twitter wars in the process). Barely kept himself from touching anything, thus avoiding certain death.

Soon it was getting dark. Still no Stephen. With a sigh, Tony prepared to go home. He was going to take the flowers down to Wong, who hopefully had a large vase stashed away...

Then the portal appeared.

Tony stood with the flowers in his arms, waiting for Stephen to step through.

Except Stephen stumbled through.

His robe and cloak were drenched in green liquid. Which, Tony was willing to bet, was actually someone else’s blood.

The flowers fell to the floor. Tony rushed to Stephen’s side.

Stephen failed to register surprise as soon as he saw Tony in the Sanctum. “It’s done,” he said between fast, ragged breaths. “It’s done.”

“You got him?” Tony held him up by the arm. Stephen leaned his weight on Tony, used him to stay upright.

“Yeah. Yeah, I got him.” He blinked, suddenly aware of where he was and who he was talking to. “Wait. Got who?”

“The creature that was trying to kill me in the past. You were chasing him down, right?”

Stephen looked at Tony, eyes wide.

“Yeah. Took him down just now. Slippery bastard. But you’re not supposed to know about that...”

Tony took out a piece of folded paper from his pocket, showed it to Stephen.

It was the drawing he’d made as a child.

The surprise in Stephen’s face vanished as soon as he saw it.

“...Oh.”

“Yeah.” Tony folded the paper and stuck it back in his coat pocket before Stephen could get any green gunk on it. “So, when were you going to tell me?”

Stephen stood apart from Tony. Brushed some of the blood off his person seemingly as a way of gaining a semblance of dignity.

“Never,” he answered matter-of-factly. “Because this was a Master of the Mystic Arts problem. Iron Men not required.”

“Not about the mission, smartass.” Tony wouldn’t stop staring into his face. “I meant how you felt. What you told me on the night of my parents’ funeral.”

Stephen was still catching his breath. He kept his eyes on Tony’s all the while.

“I think I’d better learn how to level up those memory spells,” he muttered.

“Yeah.” Tony turned, started walking away. “Clearly, you suck at them.”

He picked up the roses from the floor, brought them to Stephen, who received them with a puzzled look.

“What are these for?” Stephen asked.

“So you won’t get too surprised when I do this.”

Tony leaned forward and touched their lips together.

The roses ended up on the floor again.

“Jesus,” Tony laughed. “You have any idea how hard those were to find? Handle with care, okay?”

“You dropped them first,” Stephen pointed out.

“Fair enough. Look.” Tony put on his “boardroom” voice, the one time-tested for getting desirable results. “You once told me you might not have feelings for me anymore if I remembered you. Now I do. I remember all of you. From the time you saved me back in the cradle and told me I was loved.” He spread his arms wide. “What now?”

“What now?” Stephen said breathlessly. “Here’s what now.”

Stephen kissed him again, shamelessly getting green gunk all over Tony’s newest Tom Ford.

At that precise moment, all parties in the room stopped caring about the roses on the floor.

#ironstrange #tony stark #stephen strange #iron man #doctor strange #strangeiron #wong

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nocvil · 6 years ago

Photo

* ‐ ․ ↺ 𝙄𝙉𝙏𝙍𝙊𝘿𝙐𝘾𝙄𝙉𝙂 . . . ｓｏｏｂｏｇｕｍ . hitman . caretaker . the heel . a masked hell .

❝ my love , my love , my love , won't you stay a while ? ❞

possible tw’s below: parental death mention, illness mentions, murder for hire mentions, and uh m,,, i think that’s it rlly. just warning ok.

GENERAL INFO

full name: soo bogum ( 수 보검 ). nickname(s): bo, sweetie pie to his mother (: gender & pronouns: cismale, he/him. sexual & romantic orientation: aromantic, demisexual. age & dob: twenty-five, november 8th, 19-- birthplace/hometown: seoul, sk. parents/siblings: only child, deceased father, living mother. pet(s): absolutely not LOL. astrological sign: scorpio. >:-) dominant hand: both! handwriting style: mostly writes in very slanted cursive. i feel like when you see things like royal documents signed or very important letters written back in the day with that vintage cursive ... that would be bogum. language(s) known/spoken: spanish, english, korean. religion: LOL. ok. current living arrangements: a two-bedroom, two bath apartment complex with his older, npc mother. it is pretty spacious given they both have their own room, a kitchen, dining space, their own bathrooms, and a patio. bo has the money if you kno what i mean ... (: occupation/major: hitman.

PHYSICAL

picture reference: uhh... this? this look rlly gives off bogum vibes so (: blood type: type O. nationality: korean. skin tone/color: lighter tanned. birthmarks & scars: heheh wouldn’t u like to kno ??? height: five-foot ten inches. 5′10″. build: pretty average, more on the lean/athletic side though. hair color: red. hair length: uhm ,, look at reference photo? eye color: brown. diet: uhm ... bo has a pretty average diet probably. he would eat just about anything, not very picky. i think he probably has his favorites when it comes to chips and candy but he doesn’t have a special diet. exercise & level of fitness: LOOOL. let me not make a bad joke here ): how’s their posture ( or lack thereof )?: bogum probably has really good posture! i think standing tall with a straight back probably adds to his uh... authoritative look? typical style of dress: ( from his stats page ) dresses a bit old school, vintage?, almost plain. likes wearing tucked in and cuffed shirts, rolled up pants, boots, baseball caps, at least three rings on one hand, gold bracelets. the following outfits aren’t specific to him but they are probably kinda similar. it’s hard to rlly find exact examples ): ( 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 ) body modifications: none, surprisingly. probably pierced ears that he never puts earrings in. that’s really it though. he would prob like a tattoos but wouldn’t do it for the sake of his career ( because tattoos are distinguishing features ).

MANNERISMS

how does your muse walk?: def with a bit of power in his step. very protective when he is with his mother. mostly, he would walk like he calculates every single step he takes. how does your muse talk?: HAHA i just talked about this with myungok’s mun ,, he would talk very plain and probably without a lot of emotion. this would make things that are usually out of pocket probably sound kinda weird. what accent/dialect does your muse talk with?: he is from seoul and according to google, they speak with a gyeonggi dialect there (: how would you describe the tone of their voice? are they loud or quiet?: QUIET... shh... if you speak too loud you won’t hear bogum speaking with such monotoned you could probably fall asleep. bogum asmr when? what does their laugh sound like?: bogum? LAUGHING? i feel like bogum chuckles. so he would have like a short, quiet laugh. how does your muse typically smell?: either like smoke from a cigarette or like his mom’s perfume. what kind of air do they carry?: well jinae’s mun said he would have a dark and heavy presence and honestly that rlly fits the bill. do they have a(ny) catchphrase(s)?: time to die. what are their nervous ticks?: um.. not sure. probably knuckle cracking and finger tapping.

PSYCHOLOGY

what makes your muse happiest?: his mommy! seeing his mom thrive and gain her confidence back, even momentarily, makes him so happy. what upsets them the most?: ugh. listen. i talked abt this with some of y’all but the thought that if he ever got exposed or arrested ... how everyone in his life, including his mother, would just abandon him ... CRIES. was this supposed to be a general question? does your muse have any quirks?: i think his tendency to just be way too lax in certain situations would be his infamous quirk. what are their hobbies? how frequent do/can they do them?: bogum is definitely a simple man. he would totally like puzzles, word searches, watching the news, scrapbooking ( YES, SCRAPBOOKING ), taking walks, shopping with his mom, writing, idk, he doesn’t do anything OD or over the top. shrug. do they have any guilty pleasures?: is your muse an extrovert or an introvert? neither?: 10000% introverted otl. do they have high or low self-esteem? what about confidence?: uhm... bogum probably has an average amount of confidence/self-esteem. he’s a realist, definitely. if he look ugly he look ugly. if he look good he look good. ‘nuff said. are they easily stressed and how do they normally respond to it?: stressed? bogum could be in the midst of a bank robbery and be sitting there like ok, y’all done yet? what is your muses worst fear?: his mother finding out about his job. what is your muses biggest dream?: to either escape his job for good or to be able to heal his mother of all her injuries and illnesses. but of course, neither of those will ever happen! is your muse a morning person or a night dragon?: a night dragon? ok. anyway he is probably both. i can see bogum getting like four hours of sleep and waking up like (: let’s fuckin go! how intelligent is your muse? do they acknowledge it?: OH BOGUM has street smarts but definitely probably not book smarts. at least, not a great amount of book smarts. how can he be a hitman if he’s DUMM?! describe their sense of humor: LMAO. the real question is how can someone as funny as ME play someone as BORING as bogum?

RELATIONSHIP TENDENCIES

are they currently in any sexual or romantic relationships?: HELL NO. luuuul. what is their experience with relationships?: to really think about it, bo probably had feelings for people here and there and most likely dated short term in high school but after he moved and began doing that he kind of lost all his effort to pursue romance. how does your muse view the idea of friends with benefits? have they ever had one? would they ever?: another hell naw to that sis. how important is sex to your muse?: not important at all. bogum could care less. what are their biggest turn on and turn offs?: see above pls. does your muse find it easy to make friends?: i say yes, only because most of his friends are through his mother. how important is friendship to them?: veRY IMPORTANT if bogum didn’t have the friends he has today, he probably would be a lot more sad and maybe more than just a hitman ): quantity or quality of friends?: quality! how important is family?: VERY IMPORTANT AGAIN bogum would give his life for his mother and to have his father back. are they close to their family? why or why not ?: YES. obviously asdfasdf everyone probably knows why. although bogum is now the one who runs the house, he still really values his mother because she ultimately has nobody but him in the end if she gets worse. his parents were always really good to him and when his father died, he knew that he and his mother had to stick together through it. he also knew that that he had to step up to provide for his mother because of her injuries and dementia. she is his life, really.

FAVORITES

activity: haha. you really wanna kno?... he likes word searches a lot. animal: idk. probably like. idk. beverage: mmmm some piping hot tea. book: - color: is red cliche to say? designer: - food: flower: water lilies, pansies, lilies, peonies, idk, he would love all kinds of flowers. gem: i googled these. if he had a favorite it would be garnet, smoked topaz, and morion. holiday: christmas! his mother’s favorite too, probably. mode of transportation: walking, usually. movie: - musical artist: oh boy, uhm,, i bet bogum likes indie kpop. like dean, suran, hyukoh, but i dont rlly know a lot to give you more details. quote / saying: - scenery: hm. probably night time in the living room, mom is put to bed already, he’s watching a rerun episode of a crime drama on television and thinking about how it’s so unrealistic. he’s got a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other though he puts it out halfway through because he loses interest. (: scent: i think he’d like the smell of cleaning products, flower scents ( bc it would remind him of his mom ), and metal (: obviously. weather: cloudy or rainy weather. anything that let’s him stay inside for the day. vacation destination: UM. i bet bogum would like to travel out of country to places like europe.

ATTITUDES

greatest dream: to finally have a peaceful life with his mother by his side, healthy or not. he wants to stop being a hitman, really, but it’s kind of like an addiction, plus he’s good at it, and it brings in the bacon. greatest fear: being caught and leaving his mother by herself -- it would be like the ultimate let down since he doesn’t trust anyone with her. most at east when: pls see scenery in section above. least as ease when: out in public by himself. he doesn’t have his mom as his cover. worst possible thing that could happen: PLS SEE GREATEST FEAR. ajdfkjasdfskf biggest achievement: moving to seoul safely with his mom! biggest regret: falling back into the crime life. most embarrassing moment: idk i feel like bogum isn’t embarrassing. he’s too ,, plain. biggest secret: LMAO well ... i think we all know. top priorities: keeping his mom safe, alive, healthy, and her bills paid for. also keeping himself undercover for the most part and making sure neither him or his mother are overwhelmed.

EXTRA TIDBITS

001. bogum is an unhealthy smoker but a social drinker. he never smokes around his mother though.

002. whenever bogum’s mother is around, he is on his own best behavior. he always does his best to be nice and keep up an image of her sweet son although by himself he can be different.

003. so far the only person who knows about his job is sangwoo because he sort of saw him in the act during his first hit. the two joke about it but bogum would take him out in a heartbeat if he spills.

004. i think it’s funny because i always pictured bogum as that person would give the shirt off of his back for you if you were in trouble. but he also wouldn’t hesitate to threaten to make you disappear.

005. his mom doesn’t know how he gets the money to pay for everything but bogum has her believing he “has his ways” and to “just trust him” although she asks about it every now and then.

006. though he stays inside a lot, some of the places you might see bogum outside of his apartment, are grocery stores close to his place, bars around town, museums, little cafes picking up things for his mother, dawon’s flower shop, and very occasionally places where there are a lot of drug activity.

007. here is smth: bogum is a hitman because his father was killed in a hit!

008. despite his mom questioning where he earns his money, his family has always been pretty well off but that was because of his father. so now that his father isn’t alive, it’s kind of ... fishy.

009. lmao probably your very typical scorpio minus the s*xual stuff.

010. my brain stopped working.

AESTHETICS

a card hand full of royals. empty, dark hospital hallways. dirty hands under black leather gloves. an empty, lonely wheelchair. old black and white photographs. an ashtray full of half smoked cigarettes. ripped up diary pages. rolled up fifty dollar bills. two expensive rings on each finger. responding “k” to a paragraph long text message. tri-folded letters written in the upmost calligraphy. roman numeral clocks.

#daegu:task #⸢ 。‧ * ‧﹒、i think it’s time to pack it in . 𝒹𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓁𝑜𝓅𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉 . ⸥#I ADDED my own section at the bottom bc why not (:#ok i see u all later

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ofyumis-blog · 6 years ago

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howdy doody !! i’m nala ( she / her ) and this is my lil bub, yumi. she’s a revamped version of an older muse of mine that i haven’t had the opportunity to write in a loNg time, so i’m super excited to have her here. if you wanna plot, just tap that heart & i’ll come bug ya --- oK here we go !

important links: profile | pinterest | wanted connections.

DISPATCH: “who are you & what is one thing that people would know you for ?”

YUMI: hey; thanks for having me ! it’s such a pleasure to be here. anyway, to answer your question, i’m yumi, and i suppose i’m most well known for talking a lot ? i not only have a tendency to be very candid about things, but i’m pretty guilty of rambling, too. or it could be ... let’s sensor it and call it my “flirtatious” nature. society likes to shame women who embrace themselves, their bodies, their sexuality and libido. which is disgusting, if you ask me, but let’s move on. it’d be rude if i kept you here longer than necessary.

DISPATCH: “if there is one thing you could change about your career, what would it be ?”

YUMI: about my career ? i don’t think i’d change anything. sure, i’ve made mistakes along the way and i know i’ll continue to make them, but that’s how we grow. other than that, i know i’ve worked my ass off to continue moving up in the industry; doing everything i can to learn from those around me in order to perfect my craft. i’m proud of the things i’ve accomplished so far, and the times i’ve failed ... i wouldn’t change them for the world.

DISPATCH: “what are you willing to do to be in the top ten ?”

YUMI: that’s a good question, i’ve never really thought about it. yeah, i can be competitive, but i don’t ever want to become the kind of person who uses and / or steps on others in order to get ahead. all i can do is continue to work hard and be myself. if doing that gets me there, grand ! if it doesn’t, i don’t mind. i just want to show others that it’s okay to like what---and who---you like, to love and respect yourself. i want to inspire others to be creative and embrace who they truly are ... i don’t need to be in the top ten to do that.

KIM CHUNGHA. CISFEMALE. SHE / HER. ╱ ☆.｡.:* who is that on the charts? must be, AHN YUMI, the TWENTY-FOUR year old model. i heard they got their start in EARLY 2015 and one day hope to make a deal with VERA WANG. tmz said they can be VERBOSE and PROMISCUOUS, but their fans say they’re FORTHRIGHT and PHILOSOPHICAL. their fan accounts associate them with SILK DRESSES and WORN PAPERBACKS, and those seem to fit them pretty well. will they be at the top of the charts? let’s find out!

tw: brief mentions of death / car accident and abuse.

background info !

- born in seoul to two loving parents. as an only child, she was doted on a lot and life was amazing until she turned twelve ( 12 ) when she lost both parents in a horrible car accident.

- without having much time to grieve, yumi was shipped off to live with her maternal aunt in tennessee. that relationship wasn’t ... the greatest. yumi’s parents had always been supportive of her and encouraged her, but her aunt was the opposite. ( honestly, it was like she was cinderella and moved in with her evil step-mother ). her aunt loathed the attention yumi got from others and how she outshined her daughter and it wasn’t long before her aunt’s verbal abuse turned physical.

- yumi was silent about it for a year or so before it got so bad that she felt she needed to ask for help --- something which was totally out of character for the independent girl --- but it seemed ( to yumi ) that nobody wanted to help, so instead, she began lashing out. she talked back, she called her aunt out on her shit and she hoped that someone, anyone, would notice but again, help never came. not until she was sixteen, anyway.

- whilst “hanging” at the mall with her “family”, she was approached by a scout. of course, her aunt was adamant that yumi was nothing but a waste of time and space, so they should really be looking at her daughter instead, but the scout disagreed. in secret, she passed along her business card and the next day, yumi skipped school to meet with her.

- she spilled her guts about everything she had endured throughout her life since her parents’ passing and, because i don’t wanna bore you with any more details, the scout helped her get away. she was emancipated and took off to the city of dreams to begin working on her modeling career. she prepped herself and worked HARD for the next four years, eventually making her debut at age twenty ( 20 ).

headcanons !

let’s talk about her personality traits first and why i chose them ---

- verbose: using or expressed in more words than are needed. basically, yumi has a habit of rambling; a serious case of word vomit. especially when she gets started on a topic that elicits any sort of strong emotion from her, whether it be good or bad.

- promiscuous: having or characterized by many transient sexual relationships. as she slightly hints at in one of her interview questions, she’s known to have a relatively strong libido and she isn’t shy about it. with that being said, however, she refuses to have anything to do with someone who is already spoken for, even if they’re not exclusive with that person.

+ forthright: direct and outspoken; straightforward and honest. much to her manager’s dismay, she’s very open about ... well, practically everything. she talks about her experiences, her feelings, her beliefs and opinions, her desires and hopes for the future. she’s a big “what you see is what you get” kinda woman.

+ philosophical: having or showing a calm attitude towards disappointments or difficulties. granted, this more so rings true when said disappointments / difficulties are happening to her, considering she’s known to be super protective over others; including strangers. when it happens to her, tho, she’s known to just look at the situation, figure out a solution, proceed with said solution and move on. it’s hard for her to get stressed about things.

loves silk and lace. also, bodycon dresses & mini skirts --- yes pls. with a good heel, of course.

very flirtatious.

an uber gooey soft marshmallow who just wants to shower everyone with love and positivity.

does a LOT of charity work.

likes to read & play video games.

enjoys giving advice, talking to others & learning from them.

independent AF; would always prefer being the one who helps others, rather than the other way around.

doesn’t believe she’s the best person to be in the spotlight, given her personality.

sleeps with a stuffed owl because she needs to cuddle something, otherwise she can’t sleep.

LOVES the cold & hates being hot.

pansexual / panromantic.

... this has gotten way longer than i had wanted, so i’m just gonna leave it here. if you’ve read aNY of this ... ily more than life thank u <3333

#chart:intro #this is .. the Biggest mess n im sry abt that #my brain dont work when im tire D sldkfjgkjns

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