#anyway. I do feel strongly about poems sometimes. maybe too much but I don’t think there’s such a thing

[firstfullmoon]

so many forms of poems I absolutely LOVE but don’t see enough of. all caps poems obviously. abecedarians. poems in which the title acts as the first line. palindromes. on my knees begging 4 poets to give more of those to me

[idamariaw]

A one-shot where you meet a british man, a bit clumsy for his own good sometimes but at least it brought him to you.

This is dedicated to @atlafan, Happy Birthday 🌸

The air was humid, warm and had a strong scent of your favourite jasmin bodywash as you carefully stepped out of the bathtub to continue to get ready for your date tonight. A date that you’ve been looking forward to all week and made it way easier to get through classes and exams, even though you didn’t know much about Harry yet. That was his name, Harry Styles.

You met him just over a month ago in the coffee shop near your apartment where you spend most off your afternoons to study or read, the earthy and warm environment having a calming effect and the staff always sweet. You were reading an article for your course in political science, Stevie Nicks ’Wild Heart’ playing with your notes and books neatly in a pile by your side as eveything sudden flew to the ground with a large thud. It startled you a bit and you took your headphones off to register what caused the mess while you heard a voice beneeth you along your dropped belongings,

”Shit! I-i’m so sorry. My guitar bag got stuck in the corner of your books, I really didn’t mean to.”

A mop of chocolate curls cought your eyes while speaking to you with his deep voice and keeping to apologize even though it didn’t matter, you knew it was an accident. After picking up your things he got up to his feet and you got the oppurtunity to really look at him now. Tall, broad build at the shoulders, skinny jeans with a button up in different patterns, curls to his chin and the most beautiful green eyes you’ve ever seen.

”I’m so fuckin’ clumsy, first time at this coffee shop and this happens.” Now you noticed he had an accent, a british one? Well if your cheeks weren’t burning before they sure were now.

”Oh no it’s okay! I promise. Accidents happen, i’m pretty clumsy myself so you’re not alone. I was getting zoned out on my work anyway so you helped me with that” You said with a smile to reasure you’re not irritated or anything.

”Thank you for trying to make me feel better, but your muffin got on the ground as well. Let me buy you another please?” He furrowed his eyebrows a bit and pouted his heartshaped lips and you just couldn’t say no.

”Oh and I’m Harry by the way, Harry Styles.”

After that you asked him to sit down with you and tried to give him a good impression of the shop although it’s caotic beggining. You learned that he actually was brittish, was majoring in English Literature, wrote music and sang covers with his band.

You met him every now and then the following weeks and after sharing a carrot cake with a latte a few days ago he finally got the courage to ask you what you thought about for weeks,

”Would you be willing to see me outside this coffee shop for dinner on Friday? Please?”

And here you were, freshly out the bath and in your closet looking for an outfit. It was early autumn and Harry said he’d pick you up at 6, so a leo printed long skirt and a sage green knitted sweather along with maroon converse and a bamboo knitted purse with some jewelry would work. A pretty little matching lace bralette and panties underneath just in case things would go that way. Just as you put on a layer of your strawberry flavoured lip gloss you heard the doorbell ring and your heart skipped a beat. You looked over yourself once more before getting your purse and rushed to the door.

There he stood, so good looking it almost made you angry, with his signature black skinny jeans, a black button up, brown boots, a tan coat and hair up in a bun.

”Hello darling, I’m sorry if i’m a tad early. These are for you by the way.” He came in for a hug and kissed your cheek as he handed you a bouquet of red roses and you got a chance to take in his strongly scented perfume that consumed your senses.

”No I was just ready so it’s okay! Wow thank you, i’ve never gotten flowers before. I’m just gonna put these in a vase and I’ll be right with you.” He furrowed his eyebrows a bit as he leaned against the treeshold.

”Really? Hm I’ll remember that then. I’ll just wait by the car, we’re going for a drive about 20 minutes away if that’s okay. Take your time darling.”

As said, he waited by the car and opened the door for you on the passenger side and then you were on you way.

”Can I have a guess at where we’re going? Dinner somewhere maybe?” You asked even though you didn’t really have any but you’ve always loved surprises and he didn’t even know that.

”Well you can guess darling but i’m not sure you’re gonna figure it out that easy. But yes, we will have dinner in a way.” He answered you with a crooked smirk, showcasting his dimples.

After the 20 minute drive he parked by a black steele double gate leading the way to something you were quite familiar with but haven’t visited in ages.

”The botanical garden?” You asked surprised while Harry opened the door for you to step out.

”Yeah, is that alright with you? I figured as you like the atmosphere at the coffee shop so much this could be nice.” He said a bit shyly.

”Are you kidding me? Ofcourse I love it, I used to be here as a kid with my parents a lot but haven’t been in ages!”

”Thank god, I got nervous there for a second. I’m just gonna get some things in the car but you can start walking up and I’ll meet you at the front.” He said as he started to pick some things out from the back.

You felt giddy and excited as you approach the building and started to walk up to the front like Harry told you. It was when you came to the entrance that you noticed it’s closed and locked. Did Harry know this? Then you felt a hand at the small of your back and the smell of his perfume announced his presens as you turned around and what you saw made you melt to a puddle inside. The guitarbag was secured aganist his back and in his arms he held a picnic basket with a blanket and filled with all kind of goods.

”An evening picnic at the botanical garden with some live music, can’t go wrong with that can we?” He said with a cheeky shrug even though you could sense the nerves in his eyes.

”Seriously? That’s so nice Harry, oh my god. It’s to much to be honest. But how do we get in? And is it even aloud?” You didn’t want to doubt him or his plans but you couldn’t help it as it was actually closed.

”Hm don’t need to doubt me darling. I know the owners son as I helped him with a poem analysis in our class so he owned me a favour.” He explanied as he fished up the key in his coatpocket and opened the door with ease.

The setting and environment was everything you remembered from when you were younger and visited this place, green and thriving plants and vegetation everywhere, even a little pond in the middle with a fountain. The ceiling was made of pure glass so you could clearly see the sky that began to darken and stars starting to shine through, it was breathtaking.

”I was thinking we could set up and get up these stairs close to the roof to we get the best view.” You heard Harry speak up as he lead the way up to a white spiral stair that got you to a spot near the roof to spread out everything and sit comfortably.

He really didn’t spare anything on the food or drink, a nice rosé wine, fruits and berries of all kinds and a fancy charcuterie board.

”Harry I hope you know that you didn’t really need to do so much for our date, a romcom with a burger and fries would have been just as nice. But I really appriciate this, thank you so much.” So said honestly because it was true, just being with him was more than enough.

”Thank you for being honest darling but it’s not to much. You deserve the effort and I want to show you how important this is for me, how important you are for me. Feed me a strawberry please? And do you have any song requests?” He said as he brought up the guitar from its bag.

”Maybe ’Leather and Lace’ by Stevie Nicks if you know that one?” You asked softly as you brought the strawberry to his pouty heartshaped lips and your throat got a bit dry when he hummed against the fruit as he took a bite.

”Mmh, thank you darling. And yes I know that one, a pretty big Stevie fan myself actually.”

He said as he started to play the strings on the guitar, the melody started to fill the garden and softly singing the lyrics made everything complete. It was almost like the man in front of you couldn’t be real with how perfect he looked.

”You’ve been staring at my lips quite a lot this evening.”He said taking out of your trance and making you blush down your neck.

”W-what? Oh i’m sorry Harry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable…” You started to explain yourself but he cut you off quickly,

”Shh, no darling it didn’t make me uncomforable at all. Come here please.” He made grabby hands at you as you sat opposite to him on the blanket so you could come up to his lap.

”I promise you it didn’t. I’ve been looking at you too you know, so beautiful today it makes my heart ache. So happy and thankful, proper cuite you are. Must have the sweetest mouth to. Would you let me have a taste?” He said as his fingers came to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear and lips almost touching yours.

”Yes Harry please.” You almost whimpered against his mouth until you felt his lips softly pressing aganist yours. You shifted in his lap to wrap your fingers in the nape of his neck below the bun to deepen the kiss, Harry leaning back to take a breath.

”Tastes like strawberrys darling, gonna give me a toothache with this sweet mouth of yours.”

You continued to kiss for a while and as he moved down to your neck he felt you shift against him more and he got the courage to lay you down on the blanket and hover over you to get better acess to the rest of you.

”Can I take this off? Or will you be cold?” He asked while playing with the hem of your sweather.

”No I want it off please, I won’t be cold.” You barely finished the sentence before the sweather was off and Harry started to kiss from you neck down to the crease of your breasts.

”Smells like flowers darling, and so soft. Perfect tits you have.” His raspy voice sent a shudder down your core the same time as he carefully touched your breasts and started to kiss them through your lacy bralette.

”What’s this hm? A fuckin nipple piercing? Almost as if you’re tryin to kill me, fuck.” Oh yeah, you almost forgot about that one in your right nipple and he sucked and nipped at it as a man obsessed.

Being teased and played with for so long now made you whimper again and you tried to buck your hips into him for more friction now as you started to ache from your lower region.

Harry noticed this and made the decision to use this against his favor.

”Do you want my mouth somewhere else darling? Seems like your aching pretty bad. Or fingers maybe? Need you to talk to me.”

”Yes please, I want your mouth on me so bad. Please Harry.” If you weren’t so worked up you would feel embarassed for your neediness but you just couldn’t care right now.

”So polite, ofcourse I’ll give it to you. Anything you want, you’ll have. Can I take the skirt off?”

You nodded quickly and he got down so he was facing your core and budged up the skirt around your hips. He kissed your mound over your panties and looked up at you with a cheeky smirk.

”Matching knickers, hm? You’re flattering me darling, being so pretty for me.”

”I-i was just being hopeful…” You let out a breathy laugh at his observation feeling the blush creeping to your cheeks again.

”I was to if i’m being honest but I didn’t want to push you into anything, i’m so thankful that you let me see you like this but I really want to take these of as pretty as they may be and taste you properly. Smells so fuckin’ good I’m going insane.” He took the panties of and let out a low growl while spreading you open with his fingers and see how you were glistening from the wetness under the starlight. Going in for a long stripe with his tounge from your slit to your swollen nub, sucking and nibbling at it just the right way to make you give out a loud shaky moan. He continued playing with your clit with his tounge and lapping up all the sweetness he could get while he felt your legs starting to shake against his head and your moans only got louder.

”Making such pretty noices for me darling, keep going. Need to know that I make you feel good. Want my fingers as well while I play with your clit? Already so swollen for me.”

”Yes fuck i’m gonna cum soon, please Harry I want your fingers please…”It was all you could say before you felt two of his fingers press against your slit and tounge going back to your clit. Your hands found his hair and he let put a growl against you as you tugged on it harder than you intendent, small strais of hair coming out from the bun.

”You can cum darling, I’ve got you. Being so good for me and letting go like this. Sweetest pussy I’ve ever had, so so fucking good for me. Let me have it, please.” He continued to thrust his fingers as he said his dirty words and that sent you off the edge and gave you the most intense orgasm of your life. Small tears rolled down your cheeks and Harry kissed your inner thighs to help you come down. He licked his fingers clean and covered you again with the skirt, going up to face you and kiss your lips.

”Mmh, hi pretty girl. Felt good?” He asked nuzzling against your nose and stroking your cheek.

”Oh my god, yes. You’re literally perfect Harry, thank you.” You closed your eyes and cuddled into his side as he laid beside you looking up to the stars against the glass ceiling.

”No I’m not darling but thank you. What do you say about cleaning up and head over to mine, watch a movie and I can make you a cuppa? Sounds good?” He asked you before whispering quitly to himself ”And thank god for me being a clumsy fool.”

[nightswithkookmin]

Hii, me again. 😅

Jungkook made a three syllable poem with "min yoongi" name. At the last name of "Gi" He made yoonmin. Is he try to expose that yoonmin is a thing/ or real??

Ahjumma.... why are you being like this?

What did I do to deserve this ghettory?😟 It's too early in the year to be this ghetto uno.

Don't be like that😒

You are asking me, Goldy- GOLDY of all shippers, if I think JEON JUNGKOOK is confirming his boyfriend of seven years and counting is in a relationship with another member within the same group...

Doing what exactly in that relationship??

Is JK cockholding? What's going on.

KWENCHANAYO?!

You think BTS will survive two members dating the same guy in the same group???

Never mind that it's Jeon Jungkook and Park freaking Jimin- Mr I'm greedy and Mr I don't share my friends.

Like make it make sense to me please😭

After everything we've been said on my blogs for months now, you still asking me this??

You are bold, I'll give you that.

Now tell me slowly and in coherent words why I shouldn't pull your hair and give you three quick punches to your throat- ninja style👀

Someone get her before I snap their neck💀

For the last time-

NEITHER 🤺OF🤺JIKOOK🤺 IS 🤺 WAS🤺 HAS🤺 HAD🤺 PURPORTS TO HAVE🤺 WOULD HAVE HAD🤺 COULD HAD HAD🤺 HAD HAD HAD🤺IS HAVING 🤺 ANY 🤺ROMANTIC🤺 FEELINGS🤺WHATSOEVER 🤺 DESIRE🤺CRAVING🤺 WET DREAMS🤺 YEARNING🤺 PASSION🤺ATTRACTION🤺 AMOROUS 🤺INTENT🤺TOWARDS🤺 ANY🤺🤺MEMBER🤺 IN🤺 BTS🤺BESIDES🤺 EACH🤺 OTHER🤺

GET🤺 OUT 🤺OF🤺 YOUR🤺 IMAGINATION🤺

If you are new to the shipping community I suggest you familiarize yourself with every ships dynamics or at least Jikooks- if multishipping isn't exactly your thing.

Jikook's entire dynamics is founded on JK teasing JM to death. It's their thing.

He's said he enjoys teasing Jimin because he loves Jimin's reaction to when he's being teased. In fact, the entire group have said same about Jimin.

Did you see JM's reaction to when JK called out the Yoonmin comment in the dynamite reaction VLive?

Did you see RMs reaction too?

He is trying Jimin with these Yoonmin jokes. He's gonna get stabbed. Lmho.

Jimin reacts strongly to when JK in particular teases him with ships, Yoonmin more recently. Yet he didn't seem to mind when V did it.

V used to be the biggest Yoonminer on the planet rooting for and encouraging certain interactions between Yoonmin. Lmho.

Jimin himself perpetuates Yoonmin as a ship.

It would be an insult on his intelligence for anyone to assume he didn't know exactly why people ship two people together or what interactions and moments is considered a moment in shipping sphere.

Statements like, why can't Suga hyung look me in the eye, why does he say I'm irreplaceable to him, insinuates something and he knows this.

Once upon a time, JK couldn't look you in the eyes too. Still can't sometimes.

Jimin has a presence and he has a hold on these men and he knows it.

He goes out of his way to create the impression he and Suga have a very close bond and dynamic- I'm sold on it. Lol.

'5 Jms? As expected. You'll fall in love with them' not sure if JM said the last bit in the BE.TS Vlive, yall check for me.

It's crazy then that he turns around to react the way he does when JK teases him with his ship with Suga.

It seems to me, Jimin knows the intent and energy behind such seemingly harmless jokes- JK can be petty and passive aggressive with these things. You'd think he is joking but deep down he would be pouting and throwing tantrums behind cams🤧

It's Jimin apologizing and looking like his spirit left his body as he sat on the edge of JK's bed in the new Jersey VLive for me.

He needs to free Jimin.

Talk of things I'm getting too old for- Let's talk about why he posted his version of the bridge in disease online🤧

Not to say he shouldn't have posted it. I support that he did wholeheartedly. Deadass found his groove since he started unbuttoning the front of his shirts in 2020.

He's reclaiming the spotlight, putting himself at the forefront unlike before where he'd resigned himself to a supportive role watching his hyungs be at the center of things.

Now he's been talking about that he wants have sexy dance performances like Jimin, write rap melodies for RM, share his own music, try on a solo career one day- we get it. You found yourself Mr I'm independent asserting myself yall better fuxk off but chilee not at the expense of Jimin! 🤺

I mean it's a broad spotlight and they both can share it but damn is someone changing drastically. Not sure if I should be proud or terrified.

It's great and amazing and I'm really truly happy with where he's at mentally and physically since 2020- it's a great sign, don't get me wrong. Significant improvement. His becoming is long over due but he didn't have to grab the spotlight from Jimin like that.

Jk vs JM isn't something I'm a fan of.

It's a shame it didn't work out? What do you mean JK. I'm sorry but Jimin's version is amazing too!😟

What the actual hell JK😭

Back it up. This is not how to Jikook🤺

On guard sir🤺 on guard🤺

Dude did Jimin dirty🤧🤧🤧🤧🤧

I need a refund😭😭😭😭

Here I was waiting for y'all to get on your Jikook agenda and post that first Jikook selca of the year and you are there shipping Jimin with your bandmate and thiefing his shine. Who taught you that?!😥

Y'all are competitive but y'all don't compete with eachother's shine! JIKOOK 101😭😭😭

You share it😥

Show me where in the books this new development falls under. Show me

You winging it and it's unconstitutional😟

I rebuke it in Jesus name!

Someone beam me up.

You got these 13 year olds coming in my DMs telling me you are not supportive of your man's career.

I don't have time for this shit.

SOMEONE BEAM ME UP! Kirk!

If you've watched their Be behind video, and you've seen Jin talk about how RM complained to him when Tae chose Suga's version over his version you'd know where JK is coming from or where I think he is coming from having JMs version chosen over his.

Watch their Be self interview on yt too.

He said there's a melody he worked on for RM and when Jhope thought he got snubbed he recommended he release it instead- to quench his artistic drive perhaps.

That is why he released this song. He did it for himself. Like he said, he won't put out a song unless he was confident about it.

Suga have said time and again how the music and melodies they create never go to waste because they can repurpose it like he did with Telepathy I think.

Even JK explained he was reserving the melody he made for RM for a future group song.

He could have repurposed this or something.

When Jin talked about V vs JM's Christmas song and kept repeating how much he preferred Jimin's song to Tae's because Jimin"s was bright and upbeat, he made sure to clarify he wasn't implying Tae's song was bad. He was just indicating preference.

I won't lie, I was happy he preferred my bias's song but it made my VMin heart ache a little.

V and JM made very different songs, they shouldn't be compared to eachother in that way.

I don't like competitions. And I don't like when two artists are pit against eachother- which is exactly what these two versions of the bridge is doing out here.

I will literally die if in an interview JM is asked about his part and JK isn't. I can't do this😭

Those saying JM's is better make me sick, and those saying JK's is better make me nauseous. They both great. Point blank purr.

What's even more heartbreaking is hearing how excited he really was to share that bit with Army. Dude's eyes was glistening and everything. His bunny smile! 😥

Thats what makes this very hard for me.

The JJK in me is overjoyed and excited that he is doing things that make him really happy. I'm proud of him.

But the PJM in me just😕

I even feel more guilty that I prefer JM's version this time around😭😭😭😭

I feel like I'm betraying JK🤧

I was so happy seeing JM recieve all the love and attention I know he deserves.

Then here comes his boyfriend

'Hold up what about me!' Lol.

Imagine if RM releases the version of Blue and grey he made for Tae and it turns out we prefer that to the version Tae chose💀

Imagine that.

This has been a recurring theme throughout late 2020 to date. Jk's been choosing authenticity and self interests and passions over anything else and I couldn't be more happy for him.

Like we discussed, he's been learning to compromise too lately, which is great.

But honey this is a red flag. Deadass.

To me anyways😏

I've been a strong advocate for a certain level of independence and detachment in Jikook's dynamics because they lowkey exhibited codependency tendencies in their dynamics which is great for us shippers but not so great in the long run for their relationship or them as individuals .

Maybe I'm thinking out loud and prematurely here. I mean we are only beginning to have intimate access to their raw unscripted selves.

I don't think it's not that much of a big deal. RM and JM have equally shared their own versions of fake love on the internet but it is an interesting development in their dynamic to me.

I remember how happy JM was about his version of fake love, and it remains to date one of my favorite beats even though he was just spewing nonsense on that track. Lol.

He was so excited when he shared it with JK and Jin. He said when he showed it to JK the first time, JK said he loved it very much- how loving and supportive is that!

More of this please. Thank you.

PMS is a bitch y'all🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

Has me in my feels about this.

I'm pretty sure JM is the one that even encouraged him to share his part in the first place. Won't put it past him.

'Ya Jungkook, release your version too'

'Army will love it'

'Right but I don't want it to seem like- Goldy is crazy you know'

'Goldy who now?'

'What about the thirteen year old fans-'

'Aht aht aht Who cares about them.'

Lmho.

I mentioned a few times on here how I felt JM seemed to have been demanding 'space' and a little bit of breathing room in their dynamic which was causing a little bit of tension here and there middle 2019 through to March last year and it all sounds like drama and speculation but...

May be if I told y'all I am a witch and my analysis of their relationship is based on mediums, phantom whisperers, empathetic readings or tarot cards y'all will leave me alone?🤥

Y'all don't seem to have a problem with the witches and empaths who be doing the same shit I do out here😒

Like we are all 'reading' these mens!

There's nothing wrong with 'psychoanalytically' evaluating a ship you know? Chilee.

Imma call myself a witch if it will get y'all off my back😹😹😹😹

I mentioned JK equally embarking on his own journey to assert himself within the group and within the relationship due to this?

But damn I did not see this one coming.

This is a red flag for me. And no, it doesn't mean they are broken up or having issues in their relationship.

Jk's TMI indicates they still been spending a lot of time together.

This is just a sign there's too much independence in their dynamic now- if you know what I mean.

Relationships flourish based on how attached we are to people- too much attachment is a problem, too little attachment is equally bad.

Jikook have always had a problem with over attachment in their dynamics in my opinion, to the point it was lowkey unhealthy- the jealousy, not being able to 'act professionally' within a group and work environment, having problems with being separated however briefly, constantly wanting to be where the other is etc.

Less attachment isnt necessarily a bad thing either. It means less of all the 'toxic' aspects of their relationship that over attachment brings but too much of that too can trigger anxiousness and insecurity and resentment.

Especially if one of them hates change. Cough Jimin.

With that comes all the wild aspects of love such as possessiveness, jealousy and I know JM doesn't do too well in that department...

In my opinion, I see JM as having a problem when JK breathes down his neck emotionally speaking, and at the same time he has a problem when he is too emotionally distant.

All this is interesting to me.

Who do I need to talk to to give me more of Jikook interactions individually or jointly?

I want to see more of their interactions beyond the overly staged, dramatized fanservice and official content.

Spending a lot of time around eachother and eating each other's ramen- pun intended, does not reflect on how intimate you are.

Intimacy requires depth and depth requires attachment.

How you treat eachother's needs and goals, dreams and desires is equally indicative of the intimacy in your relationship.

That has always been one distinctive quality of Jikook's ship.

And so I wonder the thought process that went into this decision. I know JM wouldn't object to JK sharing things like these or doing things that make him happy even if it has the potential to impact his own shine in any way.

Jikook don't compete against eachother.

I keep saying this.

Remember when I said I found it sus that JK was lying there staring at JM with his hands in between his legs?

Did yall see what the run editors said when JM and JK went up against each in the pool?

'Jikook don't play by the rules'

Jimin had to push JK in the water to end whatever ancient sex ritual foreplay rooted in kamasutra they had going on. Bless him.

And in so doing, he lost to JK.

Whenever they go up against eachother, one of them intentionally lose even though they are both very competitive.

Isn't that why JK said he'd rather 5 Jms so he can watch them compete against eachother?

When JK first made that post, I felt it was out of pettiness or a move to 'humble' JM.

I thought of when he'd posted that photo of himself with a hickey after JM had 'dated' him during the JinMinKook live.

I rolled my eyes and asked, 'what yall gays up to this time?' Why you out here humbling your man?

Anywho chilee we will never know.

At ease.

Signed,

GOLDY

[medicinemane]

9, 10, 11 and 14 for the hobbit ask! (hope that's not too many for you)

This ended up quite long because I'm longwinded, so I'm putting it under the cut

I wanted to say thank you though, and it wasn't too many at all, though it might have ended up with way more than anyone would want to read

I think though that I'll answer 14 here though. I've already written everything else and found it extremely long, but I think this one I can answer quickly enough to fit here

14) What are my favorite hobbit poems or songs?

I think that one has to be Roads Go Ever On, just because I was singing the little bits I remembered quietly as I was walking around in the middle of the night a few weeks back. It's just a very good poem, and I think if it's the one I was choosing to actually sing a bit of in a public space even if no one was around there's a pretty good chance it's one of my favorites

Anyway, thanks again for the questions, I hope you're having a good day

Ok, so 9 and 10 are what is my favorite version of Bilbo and Frodo respectively, and I'll be honest even when I was looking at this before reblogging it I was really confused as to what that meant, because they mention if you don't feel strongly about either just say if you like the book or movie versions better (book for both). So I'm not sure what they'd mean by version

Which is why I'm going to answer a different question and say my favorite moments for both (I'm happy to answer "Your favorite version of Bilbo?" too if someone can explain it to me)

9) With Bilbo after Smaug leaves and they're starting to explore the place still unsure if he'll come back or not, Bilbo finds the Arkenstone. He picks it up in part because of it's captivating beauty and in part because he knows how badly Thorin wants it and that it might be useful to hold on to

Conflict rises between Thorin and the men of Laketown and elves of Mirkwood because Thorin is unwilling to part with a single piece of gold to repay the help he received (particularly from Laketown which among other things was destroyed while killing Smaug and there by securing Thorin's hoard of treasure)

Bilbo sneaks out and freely gives the Arkenstone to the men and elves so they can barter for the treasure they need and in many ways deserve to help rebuild. He does this despite finding the Arkenstone beautiful. He does this despite the fact he will almost certainly be forfeiting all his claim to any treasure and losing his friendship with the dwarves. He does this and asks nothing in return

10) Frodo I don't know as well just because I'm rereading things and I'm only at the beginning of Two Towers, so a lot of his character comes after where things are fresh for me

One of my favorite things so far though has been how much he cares for his uncle. As soon as Bilbo goes away he misses him and sometimes wonders if he should have gone with him. The whole journey from the Shire to Rivendell he is thinking about his uncle and wondering where he might have gone and if he'll ever see him again

When he wakes up in Rivendell after all the suffering and pain of being stabbed by a Morgol blade and only barely surviving the ride, after he's talked with Gandalf about what happened and why, the last thing he wonders before he goes back to sleep is where Bilbo is (not knowing that he's finally ended up in the exact same place as his uncle)

I just really like that relationship, and I think it speaks to who he is that even after something horrible some of the most important things to him are where the people he cares about are and how they're doing

11) What's my favorite aspect of hobbit culture?

I actually answered all these things as I was falling asleep last night, and you got to hear what I thought on those last two, but I forget what I thought on this one so I'll have to think up something new (which is a shame because I feel like I had a good answer)

Actually maybe this exact moment I'm starting to remember, because I remember thinking about how for some reason I've found I really don't enjoy working with powered things (even like lawnmowers), but I do like handtools and push mowers and such a lot

So I think one of the things I like best is both how much work is personally done by hobbit hands, but also the fact they take their time with things and enjoy themselves instead of pushing to make everything the most productive it could be

They work, and they're productive, and they get quite a lot done, but they don't live to work. Sometimes they work because the task is enjoyable like gardening, sometimes they work because they want what they'll get when they're done like a harvest, or to have brewed some ale, or a house; but it's not that they work because otherwise they'd be lazy, it's work because they want that particular thing done

[weirdochick56]

Mr. Evans- Chris Evans AU Chapter Six

Teacher!Chris Evans x Student!Reader

Warnings: TeacherxStudent relationship. Slightly Underage reader x adult teacher Disclaimers: I don’t own CE or you. I don’t condone any relationship of this kind. This is for fictional and entertainment purposes only. Word Count: 5, 240 words

Read Chapter Five Here!!

(Gif isn’t mine!)

You couldn’t look him in the eye no matter how hard you tried. You wanted to be nonchalant about the whole thing. You wanted to seem unaffected. To let him know that if that kiss was a mistake for him, it was a mistake for you as well. 

What, that kiss? It meant nothing to you. Absolutely nothing.

But it did.  It fucking did and that was the hardest admission to make to yourself. 

It meant so much more than you were expecting and now you didn’t know what to do with all these feelings brewing within you. The waves of boiling hot emotions crashing against eachother so strongly they were creating an inexplicable turmoil within you, and sometimes one would knock the other down enough so you felt it sharply through you and vice versa. Embarrassment, shame, guilt,  giddiness, warmth, and ecstasy to name a few.

So to say it was hard to focus in class that day would be the understatement of the century. Especially when Mr. Evans insisted on looking over at you constantly throughout today’s lesson.

It was like he had an uncontrollable urge to glance in your direction every few minutes and that beautiful blue gaze was putting your nerves even more on edge.

You could feel him looking at you. Of course, you did. You always did. 

Your body always reacted weirdly when the heaviness of that gorgeous gaze landed on you. 

You refused to make eye contact with him though. Simply refused.

The truth was, you were scared. Of what you’d find in those eyes of his. Regret. Disgust. Pity.

Gosh, you were absolutely petrified to find him looking at you with pity. Like you were some charity case to him. Merely a little girl who’s struggling because of her dead mom and asshole of a father and was therefore in dire need of accolades and attention from an older man to feel better about herself.

And what was worse? He wouldn’t be wrong. 

To be honest, you weren’t expecting to have to face the music so soon. You’d expected to have to at some point, sure, but not this soon. Not first-period-class-next-day soon.

Yet, here you were and you swore it was like the universe was conspiring against you because there was absolutely no way that the lesson today just so happened to be about love poems, right?

Walking into his classroom, your head had been bowed low and your eyes trained strictly on the floor as you flooded in with the bulk of the class.

You made sure to use your hair as a protective curtain to hide from his searing eyes when you passed his desk and practically ran to a seat in the back of the classroom.

See, normally, you’d be the kind of student to be first in class and sit in the front where you could get a clear view of everything, and this had been particularly true for English class. Except now the last thing you wanted was to be seen by Mr. Evans.

His gaze not only made your body react weirdly, but it also made you feel incredibly vulnerable. The fact had never really bothered you until now, though.

And it wasn’t like your hiding had made much of a difference anyway because his eyes still somehow found you. You hadn’t seen them find you, but you sure as hell felt it. Your hairs rose on your arms and a small shiver passed through your spine that left you trembling just a bit in its wake.

Which was why you had resorted to shrinking further into your seat puffing your cheeks out to mask the blood rushing to your face. You focus on writing notes as he speaks to distract yourself.

“Love poetry is one of the most beautiful forms of writing you’ll ever read.”

His voice is masculine and raspy but equally velvety smooth and fuck if it didn’t just make you crave to hear him speak all day long. 

Preferably in your ear, whilst you cuddled in bed.

His hands were casually shoved into the pockets of his jeans and you can’t help but think that the most beautiful painting in the world could never compare. 

“It’s beautiful because it speaks of the purest part of the human soul in a form that is not straightforward. It’s sort of cryptic thus what you can find in a poem often times varies depending on who you are and how you view the world. Now, if you look in your books on page twenty-three, you’ll find one of my favorite love poems of all time.”

Papers crinkle around you as you all turn to page 23 in the small class poetry book. Only then do you notice your terribly shaky hands and hold back a gasp at how truly nervous you are.

Fuck. How did he manage to do this to you without even touching you?

At the thought, you can’t help but look up at him. He isn’t looking at you which you’re extremely grateful for because it gives you a chance to really admire him. 

Leaning against his desk, he flips through his own book in search of the correct page.

You’re suddenly breathless. He was truly beautiful. Your eyes slowly trailing over him from top to bottom. His hair seemed lighter than before, the tousled locks shimmering a lighter blonde than you last recalled and his skin seemed tanner, the shade somehow making the blue in his eyes more prominent. It was probably from being out in the sun too much. 

You wanted to let your mind wonder why it’d be like that, but you knew that those thoughts would eventually lead you to far-too vivid images replaying behind your lids. Images of Mr. Evans...shirtless....chopping wood in his backyard with the sun shining down on his God-sculpted body and the sweat giving his skin a slight sheen that caught in the natural light and made him look completely photoshopped. His arms would be raised high over his head, ax in hand, his face set in a sexy determined frown, and strong muscled body flexing as he brings it back down, smashing the wood apart. 

Okay, so maybe you’ve daydreamed about this before and knew that that’s exactly where your mind would wander if you went down that road, but that didn’t mean you couldn’t admire the rest of him.

Today, he wore a tight black Guns N Roses band tee, jeans and a pair of sneakers that looked ridiculously good on him. I mean c’ mon! Can’t the guy not rock anything? He looks good in literally everything and the fact was making you inexplicably irritated. 

It’s really hard to remain irritated at it for long though, especially when he was all muscle and the shirt gave you a full outline of those perfectly-sculpted muscles which flexed every time he moved. 

The book was absolutely minuscule in his big hands and the veins of his strong forearms became obvious as he flipped through the pages, causing your mouth to go even drier. 

You soften a bit as a thought strikes.

He held you with those same arms not too long ago. He held you for even just a second like you were all that mattered to him. Like it was just you and him against the world. Like who you were to society didn’t matter when it was just you two. 

You watch him scratch his beard with hindering fascination when suddenly the memory of those hairs scraping the skin on your chin and cheeks as he kissed you with the kind of want you couldn’t have imagined anyone -much less him- feeling for you floods back and transforms into a hot white ache that goes straight to your core.

Before you know it, you’re left a breathless, flushed and trembling mess once more.

And as if that wasn’t enough already, it seemed as if Mr. Evans could feel you looking at him, because in that exact moment, he looks up.

If you thought you were breathless before, nothing compared to this. Nothing compared to coming face to face with your biggest fear because truth be told, you had never been more scared about something as you were the look in his eyes right now.

And when you said that nothing compared to what you found in those beautiful blue eyes would be an understatement.

Because what you found there wasn’t disgust or regret or pity. No. What you found there was understanding and a warm soft emotion you really couldn’t put your finger on. But most shocking of all...fear. You found fear. 

He was scared. Not for you, but for him. He was scared of you. But...why? If anything, you were the scared one here. And rightfully so, with the effect, he had over you and all.

Your heart races a hundred miles per hour and you lick your lips in order to moisten them because your entire mouth felt like the fucking dessert.

His eyes catch on to the movement, following the trail of your tongue suspiciously close. You can see his chest rise then fall back down a bit shakily as he takes in and releases an unstable breath.

Could it be....? No. No. He couldn’t possibly...Someone like that couldn’t possibly be affected by you. That was nearly impossible.

And yet...there was that darkness in his eyes that you’d seen when he kissed you pushing to be at the surface of those kind eyes. That darkness that seemed like second nature and completely inevitable. That darkness that grew and swayed from underneath that gorgeous outer layer and was wild and untamed. That darkness that he couldn’t seem to control around you...

And before you can scrutinize him further, his head snaps away and he regains his composure. Clearing his throat, he directs himself to the rest of the class, deliberately avoiding eye contact with you.

“Alright, this poem is a bit complicated to understand because of the language, but I trust once I’m done reading it out loud, you guys can come up with some ideas and opinions of your own on it.” He smirks a little. “You’ll also see what I mean when I say that it’s the most beautiful form of writing.”

You try to ignore the stab of pain that small action gives you. Him avoiding having to look at you shouldn’t hurt this much. 

“Oh, hell yeah! A hot piece of ass like Mr. Evans reading sonnet 18 is exactly what I signed up for in English class this year.” Some girls in front of you giggle quietly.

“I know right?! Gosh, he’s really fucking dreamy.”

You can’t help when you roll your eyes at them, anger bubbling inside of you instantly. 

He’s not a piece of meat, jeez! 

To be fair, though, you treated him the same to some degree. But still, it didn’t mean hearing other girls talk about him like that wasn’t just absolutely...ugh!

Without thinking it, you lean forward and tap them on the shoulder. They turn to you, startled. 

“Sorry to break it to you girls. But I’m pretty sure you’re not his type.” You pain a fake-sympathetic smile on your face. 

They frown at you and one of them raises an indignant brow at you. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” she hisses.

The other one grins wickedly, looking at him like he’s a meal she can’t wait to get her needy claws on. “Yeah! What do I not have that he would want? Need.” She gestures “subtly” to her breast.

You fight back the urge to gag.

Smirking a little you lean back in your seat, shrugging. “Nothing personal girls. But I’m assuming you’re kind of lacking in the penis area, am I right?”

Both girls look confused for a few seconds before it dawns on them what you mean and like magic, their faces light up with realization. They gasp, horrified, and with suddenly red faces, awkwardly turn back to their work.

You snicker quietly to yourself and turn back to your own work. That’s when Mr. Evans begins speaking.

His voice is soothing as hell. And if hearing him talk was fascinating, hearing him read out loud was for sure like hearing angels sing into your ear.

The words rolled so easily off his tongue that it was hard to imagine he wasn’t the one who wrote the poem instead of Shakespeare.

Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate. Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May, And summer’s lease hath all too short a date. Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,

You’re completely entranced by him reading this poem, your head resting on your hand and your elbow on your desk as you subconsciously lean in closer.

It was like the poem was made specifically for him to read...to you.

 The words and his voice danced and twirled beautifully into the empty space of the classroom, creating a fluid and swift execution of an intricate tango. The picture of grace and perfection before they completely dance into your ears, blessing them.

Your heart skips a beat as he briefly looks up, probably feeling your utterly obvious gaze on him and causing your gazes to clash against eachother.

He keeps reading the poem softly but you can’t be imagining his voice dropping just a bit when your gazes met. His eyes intensifying, locking in on you. Only you. And he doesn’t stop looking at you throughout the entirety of the poem. It might sound nutty, but...it’s almost like he can’t.

It would seem neither of you can look away. Hell, you couldn’t even move a muscle. It’s as if his eyes were keeping you trapped in place with their inex-fucking-plicable power over your everything. Unwavering, magnetic, and far too bewitching for you to even attempt to look elsewhere. 

Nowhere to hide, nowhere to go.

Vulnerable. He made you feel vulnerable without doing much of anything, really. 

Dangerous. It was dangerous,

You didn’t think you minded either way. The intense magnetism between you two was undeniable and exhilarating and you wanted more of it. More of the high he offered as your very own drug. More of him.

And often is his gold complexion dimmed;

And every fair from fair sometime declines,

By chance, or nature’s changing course, untrimmed;

But thy eternal summer shall not fade,

Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow’st,

Nor shall death brag thou wand'rest in his shade,

When in eternal lines to Time thou grow'st.

So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,

So long lives this, and this gives life to thee.

You’re so dazed by the intensity of the moment that you barely notice when the class begins clapping, ruining the moment as he finally looks away. You instantly deflate at the loss of the weight his heated gaze offered, releasing a big breath of relief or disappointment. It’s hard to tell.

Your heart is thumping so loudly, you hear it pounding in your ears.

Thump. Thump. Thump.

Loud and clear and constant. A bold reminder of the power a mere glance from Mr. Evans has over you much less that combined with him reading you a love poem.

You really were screwed with this crush.

The rest of the class period drags on torturously long. The more he talked about how love was “the purest part of the human soul” the more pain you felt stabbing you in the chest. It was simply a constant reminder that you could never have him. 

You just wanted to escape from there as soon as possible.

Which is exactly why when the bell rung, you didn’t hesitate to shove all your things into your bag messily, hoist it on, and get up to leave with the rest of your classmates.

You were not going to face him. Not today. Not tomorrow and certainly not the day after.

In fact, you were going to successfully avoid him the rest of the-

“Ms. Y/l/n! Can you hang back for a bit please?”

Shit.

You pause your quick advances toward the door abruptly at the sound of his voice and wince, squeezing your eyes shut.

There was no longer a doubt in your mind that the universe really was conspiring against you today.

The rest of the class finishes flooding out and the door closes. The room is silent for a few seconds before you turn around slowly, eyes trained on your old worn-out converse.

His shoes come into view as he approaches you and you suck in a sharp breath, instinctively stepping away from him. When you hesitantly look up at him, he seems a bit hurt at your reluctance to have him close.

Guilty, you smile at him, your voice soft. “Mr. Evans. You needed something?”

He purses his lips. “Can we...talk about Friday?

Oh no. Your stomach drops. You’re a bit taken aback by his straightforwardness at first because you thought he'd beat around the bush a bit before actually saying it, but apparently, you were wrong. 

The mere mention of the kiss brings memories of it flooding back and you can't help but blush aggressively which instantly reminds you of how much he said he liked your blush and that only causes your blush to intensify even more.

You suspect what he’s going to tell you and before he can get a word out and you’d rather spare yourself the pain. 

Forcing a small chuckle, you shake your head lightly at him. “What is there to talk about Mr. Evans? I know was a mistake and I won’t tell anyone about it so you don’t have to worry about a word coming out of my mouth. As far as I’m concerned, nothing happened Friday.”

He sighs heavily at your words, puffing his cheeks frustratedly. 

You’re a bit confused by the initial reaction he’s offered because isn’t he supposed to be relieved that you’re offering to forget it? He seems...upset. 

But that confusion completely disappears and is replaced by itself, only a thousand times bigger when he abruptly throws his head back and begins to laugh hysterically.

...What the fuck? 

You’re startled at first but also just fail to see what’s so humorous about this very serious topic. You frown up at him. “W-what’s so funny?”

He laughs a full-blown belly laugh for a little more before taking a deep breath and bringing his gaze at level with yours.

“Nothing. Everything. You. This.”

And then he throws his head back again and laughs even harder than before, his entire body shaking with the loud rumbles of that beautiful but bewildering laugh of his, his smile wide and his eyes screwed shut in delight. 

You’re so confused by his reaction if not a little offended. Why was what happened between you two...funny?

You awkwardly wait until he’s calmed down again. 

He smiles a little at you and despite yourself, you can’t help it when your chest grows warm at the sight. 

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. Don’t think I’m making light of the situation, it’s just...” he sighs heavily through his nose and his smile unexpectedly falls, his handsome face scrunching into a small frown. 

“Do you really think it was a mistake?” 

His voice is significantly lower than normal as he asks this question and if you didn’t know better, you’d say he almost looks...disappointed. But why? He couldn't possibly care that you’d practically said that kiss was never meant to happen, right?

Again, where was that relief he was supposed to be feeling?

At the question, you shrug lightly and gulp down the painful lump in your throat.

“O-of course. We were both very emotional and it was a heat-of-the-moment thing, r-right?” 

You mentally wince at how doubtful of your own words you sound. You’re supposed to sound like you mean it.

Although in your defense, he was making you very unsettled with the scrutinizing look he was giving you. It was like he was watching out for something from you. Words that he’d been hoping to find if he dissected the ones you did give him enough. 

Something he apparently didn’t accomplish because in the next second he begins to slowly step closer to you, his strides slow and cautious, like he was scared you’d bolt if he made any sudden moves. His eyes are trained steadily on your own and your breath hitches at the sheer force of his gaze. It’s shifted from scrutinizing to straight up piercing. 

That darkness from before, it was back and swaying like live flames inside those eyes you absolutely adored.

He looked wild and untamed. Absolutely feral. 

A look you hated to admit you missed on him.

Your stomach churns with anticipation when you feel his breath warm and cinnamony fanning across your flushed cheeks and lips. 

He tilts his head slightly to the side so that his nose brushes softly against your neck, caressing it, and then he smirks against the sensitive skin a little. 

You barely stifle a gasp at the sensation as your eyes snap shut.

“Are you sure that’s all it was?” he rasps so desperately and quietly, you have to fight against your own rapidly beating heart to hear him. 

“Yes,” you breath so embarrassingly out of breath that you can’t help but blush insistingly. 

He hums. “Mhm.” Then he lifts his head so that he’s looking directly into your eyes again and your noses are brushing against eachother. His eyes are darker now, but somehow sharper in their focus. He’s watching you like you’re prey and he wants to eat you. And this time you don’t feel unsettled at all, just...turned on. 

You really liked this part of him. This animal-like nature that came to the surface when it was only you two alone. He was always so in-control and calm. Seeing him lose that made you aggressively throb in places far too filthy to be mentioned. 

Your lips are a mere centimeter away and you’re softly panting on him. You’re also sure he can hear your heart going crazy, as the tips of your breasts brush against his muscular chest just enough to give you a taste of his warmth and have you craving more.

His scent is as absolutely delectable as you remembered and you’ve never wanted to do something as bad as you wanted to kiss him right now. 

“Mr. Evans...” you almost whine against his soft lips. 

He smiles knowingly, his long lashes fluttering against your skin. “Yes?” 

The thing you wanted to claim so badly was right. In. Front. Of. You. Willing. Soft and pink and wet and warm and right there, less than an inch away. His lips were practically already on you, you just had to make that one little move and scratch the itch that’s been tormenting you endlessly. 

You close your eyes tightly and press your forehead to his just a bit, inhaling his scent deeply and just staying close to him, feeling his warmth radiating on you. Reveling in the peace and equal adrenaline rush being this near him gave you.

You let it sink into you. The storm brewing in the calm. You and him standing in the eye of the hurricane whilst chaos reigns all around you. 

Neither of you makes the move to kiss the other though. Neither was daring enough to do what you wanted to so badly. 

“I want to do it again,” he finally whispers, his voice straining. Almost like it physically pained him to say it.  

You almost forget you have a voice, too lost in the moment. 

“Do what?” 

He smiles a bit coyly, breathing the words to you like they were a secret no one but you was meant to hear. 

“Kiss you.” 

You stomach curls up and you swear you pant even harder. 

“Shit,” you release defeatedly against him because...shit!

He wanted to kiss you again. The kiss from before wasn’t a mistake to him and he wanted to do it again. 

Kissing those perfect plump pink lips of his was the only thing you wanted right now and perhaps forever. God, you really fucking wanted it. More than you’ve ever wanted anything. 

...But it was wrong. And shit. You couldn’t do that, no matter how much you fucking ached for it.

It takes all your goddamn strength but you manage to break away from him, stepping back and creating considerable distance between you two. 

Immediately, every atom in your body screams in protest at the loss of warmth.

“We can’t,” your voice cracks and even though you know it’s fucking wrong, a small part of you hopes and prays that he’ll refuse. That he’ll kiss you and revive every fiber of your body that’s been dormant since he’d last done so. That he’ll intoxicate you with his lips and give finally give you your fix of him.  

Opening his eyes at your words and blinking slowly, he releases a big breath. He pauses for a second before forcing out a small, strained laugh that tugs at your heartstrings in the worst ways possible. He rubs his face harshly then runs a frustrated hand through his hair.

“Fuck I- yeah, you’re right. I’m sorry, sweetheart. That was way out of line. I just-” 

You cut his flustered explanations off softly, hoping the pain in your voice doesn’t become apparent to him. 

“It’s fine Mr. Evans, really. What happened Friday will never happen again and we don’t have to talk about it. Now if you’ll excuse me...” 

And then you turn on your heels and walk away before he can respond.

*

This was wrong. All wrong.

You were sitting at lunch, as per usual, a big plate of fries and ketchup sitting in front of you, but you weren’t eating. Just twirling the sauce you’d poured aside with a golden fry around.

Your thoughts were focused solely on the events of this morning. He’d wanted to kiss you again and if you were being completely honest, your very reluctant turning down of the idea didn’t mean that you weren’t only a mere centimeter away from doing exactly what he was asking. 

The thought that the door wasn’t locked and anyone could catch you any second hadn’t even occurred to you until after you walked away which only proved how obscured your senses became when you were near him. How much he made you forget your own fucking name without even putting a finger on you. 

Your legs were wobbly and your breath came in short pants, hear racing inside your chest. 

It was pathetic and ridiculous and you didn’t mind it one bit. Not really. 

He seemed to only like this with you. 

Or at least as far as you could tell. I mean, it wasn’t like you knew much about his personal life aside from what the gossipers in your small town whispered amongst themselves and the stories he’d told you from his college years, which only made you even more curious about him. You had so many things you didn’t know about him and it was driving you crazy. 

 Maybe there was someone else he was like this with. Maybe he was like this with his ex-wife.

Your mind reels at the thought and you wonder what he might’ve been like before she died. What did she look like? How did they meet? 

It hadn’t occurred to you how before who he was when he was with someone he loves- loved.

As far as you knew, she’d died in an accident in the place Mr. Evans was originally from. Illinois, if you remember correctly. You had no idea what kind of accident it was that’d tragically taken her life, but he must’ve been utterly devastated.

Just thinking about him mourning someone he loved so much made your chest squeeze painfully.

“Hey,” Margo mumbles, her hand abruptly pulling you from your thoughts as it taps your own.

You look up at her, startled. “Huh?”

She smiles a bit concernedly. “You okay hun? You seem a bit distracted.”

You force a small smile, simply hating having to lie to your best friend. “Yeah..yeah! I’m good, just a bit tired.”

She raises an unconvinced brow at you but doesn’t probe you further which you’re eternally grateful to her for. 

“Ok, then...” she sing-songs, clearly not buying your lies.

Then her expression completely shifts and she grins excitedly, practically bouncing on her seat. “You heard about the party this weekend?” 

You nibble on your fry distractedly, raising a brow at her. “What party?”

Margo rolls her eyes, looking at you incredulously. 

“I swear to God- dude! Legit everyone knows about the pool party at Jenna Miller’s freaking mansion this weekend!” 

You snort, shrugging. “Not me.” 

She facepalms, shaking her head disappointedly before raising her head to the heavens. “God? Why did you make such an oblivious human being my best friend?” 

You laugh and lean over, playfully slapping her arm. “Hey!”

She chuckles but then turns stern. “No, but seriously, you need to come out of that rock you live under every once in a while, dude. A bunch of people were invited. Us included.” She grins widely. As if the fact was utterly the best thing ever. 

You snort again, popping another fry into your mouth. 

“No,” you drag the word out, looking at her with a smirk. “You were invited and I’m just your baggage.”

Her grin falls and she clicks her tongue. “That was once!”

“No, that’s every time because you actually go out and socialize and are pretty and popular. I, on the other hand, am a socially-anxious, under-cooked potato,” you deadpan. 

At that, she doesn’t respond. Even though you can practically see her straining to  You smirk triumphantly. 

“Exactly.”

She purses her lips sassily. “We’re going.” 

“No, we’re not.” 

She raises her brows and speaks as if to a toddler. “Yes, we are.” 

“Nope,” You retort easily. 

“Yes.”

“No.” 

“Yes.” 

“No!” 

“Yes!”

“No!” 

She slams her hand on the table and you practically jump out of your own skin, startled. 

“Y/n,” she growls. “We’re going to that party or so help me God I will run to Mr. Evans’s room right now to tell him exactly how much it is you want him to insert his you-know-what in your you-know-what!” 

You gape at her for a few seconds, observing her sharp glared, tightly pursed lips, flared nostrils, and flushed cheeks. 

“O-okay,” you finally squeak out. 

And just like that, ecstatic Margo is back. She squeals loudly and you wince at the shrill sound as she leans over, gripping your hand tightly in hers and shaking you harshly back and forth. 

“Omg! Yasssss! We’re gonna get us some DICK!” 

You can’t help it when you burst out in laughter at her antics. 

“Oh my-” you wheeze. “What the fuck?” 

She smiles innocently, even though the mischevious glint in her eyes contradict that smile completely. “Just kidding.” 

Before the conversation falls off-track completely and goes straight into an entire sex-talk thing, you decide to steer clear and move it elsewhere, choosing to mention the fact that you had nothing to wear. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust Margo with it, but you weren’t a big fan of “sex talks”. It was weird for you, a girl who was surrounded by girls who only wanted to talk about sex but had never even masturbated.

Not because you couldn’t or because you were raised in a really religious setting that forbade you from doing so or whatever, but because you were saving all of that for someone special. 

And yes, people made fun of you for it. Constantly. Especially Margo. 

For a really long time, she teased you about you wanting to save yourself for the right guy. It took a while for someone as sexually liberated as her to understand that your virginity meant a lot to you, more than it did to her at least. She lost it at fifteen and had been sexually active since, like many girls you knew. 

The thing was, Margo had admitted that she rushed into it, wanting simply to be devirginized and begin exploring her sexuality as soon as possible. Which was completely okay by all accounts, and she didn’t seem to mind all that much that that was how it went for her, except it sort of deromanticized the whole experience and something about that terrified you. 

It wasn’t even about getting married to do it, (although if that’s what it took for you to be sure, you’d be willing.) it was simply about who you were doing it with. You were always taught to cherish your virginity because it was a gift and you don’t just give gifts away. 

You’ve heard so many girls that, unlike Margo, aren’t as unbothered by losing it to some stranger or asshole because they were in a rush to get it over with and it breaks your heart because they’ll have to live with that for the rest of their lives. 

You didn’t want to regret it the same way they had. 

You want the guy you have your first time with to value that it was your first time. 

But now having done anything didn’t mean your imagination was anything short of huge and filthy. No. Because the things you dreamt about Mr. Evans and you at night alone in your bed were extremely....creative. 

Your mind ran wild with fantasies that involved him climbing through your window and- no. Nope. Not going there here. 

It was like he could invade every aspect of your life without even being in it and slowly but surely it was driving you crazy. 

“Oh, we’re going to have so much fun!” Margo ceases your dirty train of thought with a loud squeal. “I can’t wait!”

You smile a bit nervously but doubt she notices in the daze of her own excitement. “Yeah. Me neither...”

Read Chapter Seven Here!!

***

I can’t wait either!! 

Also, I know I said shit was gonna go down in this chapter, but I kinda lied...IT’S GOING DOWN IN THE NEXT ONE AND OH MY GOD IS IT GOING TO BE FANTASTIC!!!

A Special Thanks To (if you’re in bold I couldn’t tag you. Please message me if I’ve made a mistake or otherwise): 

@bombsandsparkles

@meowsekai

@godohammers

@sp2900

@multifandom-foreverx

@missbosstown

@supernaturalyloki

@jungkooksbowlingskills

@spettrocoli

@woodworthti666

@tshollandlove

@weirdvishy

@buckysrcse

@doritoevansxwinterschildren

@superwholockwannabe  

@emmiejames

@rissamonique97

@zofty15

@sarcasticalphaofthelooserspack

@sydneynix8305

@badkatthings

@pinnedandneedled

@taliarosej00

@lowkey-love-loki

@tomoyaevaans

@dontstopfreddienow

@notbexmader 

@celestiial-angel

@primavera-nymph

@littlecherrydoll

@panic-naran -my gorgeous MR. E peeps 

And of course my Incredible forevers!

@jessikared97

@sherlockedtash88

@lilypalmer1987

@mogaruke

[jvnisms-blog]

♡♡          hey babes !! it’s ya gal charmi at it again, the mun of azami, with yet another chaotic child on my hands. meet jung woojin and find out more about him below the cut & hit me up for plots or like this and i will slide into your messages !! before you read on please be aware of these triggers: tw: eating disorder mention, tw: depression mention, tw: anxiety mention, tw: self harm mention, tw: parental death mention, tw: suicide mention, tw: domestic abuse mention. all of these are brief and very vague however i want y’all to be safe !! without further ado: 

BACKSTORY: 

was in and out of the adoption system most of his life and went to many toxic homes and families that were neglectful or abusive because he wasn't the perfect child they had dreamed of. at first thought he was never going to be fostered at all because he wasn't the ideal age or considered young enough really for many family setups to want him. 

was separated from his brother in the adoption system and has never fully got over it since they grew up closer than ever due to their circumstances and were more like twins. strongly believing for a long time they were the only ones who could look out for each other and make the miserable upbringing worth fighting through. he still believes he's the only one who can really protect his brother and tears himself apart thinking of how he might have suffered without him, if it was the same way he did. 

the father died of alcohol issues and early set heart failure. the mother decided in her grief and mourning she could not cope with the boys and got rid of them before taking her own life. both parents were fairly young when they had the boys, too young really. 

the boy grew up believing he was a monster and that he was far too violent for loving or to be loved. that he only brought destruction and damage everywhere he went. simply put he was too rough around the edges. 

was taught to believe that if he simply kept quiet and out of the way maybe his foster parents would love him more and he could make his life there more bearable.

his school and teachers did nearly find out but he always lied and covered it up well, in fact lying became increasingly easy because he didn't believe there was anything better waiting for him anyway, he did not want to be saved and a part of him still wanted to pray for the best in his foster parents, a sudden change. a part of him thought he was strong enough to deal with their violence bestowed upon him now. 

of course though this made him a very angry kid with a lot of secrets and a lot of pain he had to keep buried, a lot of the time he became too agressive with his friends and people who attempted to help him because it was all he knew, agressive spat out hurtful words and rash actions that are just a touch too brutal. a shove, words spat in faces. he's trying to be better though, he really is. he doesn't want to hurt or break things anymore. that's all. 

he's beaten up a lot, he tends to brush it off with a 'it happens' or 'it wasn't a big deal' when his ribs end up broken and he's taping them up himself etc.

some nervous dispositions that have stuck are things such as shaking a lot, folding arms in on himself and making himself appear smaller, biting his nails down over excessively.

abandoned foster child who fell prey to the system and came out worse for it because of it all is basically his whole niche. 

a lot of things become an argument even when he doesn't intend it, apologies can come out more like taunting. he can be sharp tongued and ugly with his words. 

in turn he's bad at accepting apologies even when he knows deep down things are his own fault. he struggles to find words that don't burn and hurt and take. he just doesn't know how to do comfort, he thinks he has the idea sometimes but he is scared to reach out and give the wrong touch, end up hurting more instead. 

he has an issue with touching in general. he doesn't let himself do it much, doesn't bestow it on others. he knows what he can be capable of how he can't control his own strength and he is terrified of himself.* biggest promise to himself is that he never hurts anyone even in the smallest way even when its justified in an emotional breakdown or when he is trying to keep himself from being abandoned once again. he won't let himself. 

' you know what they say about monsters. you know what happens to the people who love them. are you going to do that?' even if no one else is afraid of him. he is afraid of himself.

' your hands don't know how to be gentle, think about the last beautiful thing that shattered in your palms. the fresh rosebuds crumbling between your fingers like a bruise. you wolf boy, you war machine. you wouldn't know how to hold something magic and not destroy it...' 

is littered in bruises and scars and burn marks. 

CURRENT LIFE: 

since moving to daegu he has slowly made progress, healed, gotten better. he has worked away at himself until he made himself more of a tragic masterpiece than a messy splash of unfinished painting and blurry mottled colours. 

he lives with four friends, close friends who have been with him through everything and taught him how to healthily feel not only happiness and love but also let go of and exhale all of that pain and anger and violence he could not control. that was not his own but haunted him. aching to be placed somewhere else than inside his body which was too small to feel such hurt and heartbreak.

he got therapy after many tries with many therapists who botched up he eventually found one who worked and helped him look for new hobbies which would channel and turn his pessimistic and negative energy and burdens into something more beautiful or better managed. he slowly learned to trust himself at least a little bit more once again. she also helped him on a journey of distance without isolation so he could understand he would not do the harm he always imagined he was the root of. 

when he leaves his family, it is in the middle of the night with packed bags and not much else to his name. he thinks it'll be easier on everyone that way, no letters or texts or calls. in fact he breaks his phone and switches it out for a cheap new one when he's ready to be contacted once again. there are no goodbyes.

he spends four years just crashing on his friend's floor of their apartment who are a couple who practically raise him and take him under their wing and simply accept him in all his flawed and closed off excellence, simply listening and accepting and providing a safe haven without expectations of any kind. 

he works on painting, writing, gardening anything that will teach him how to love and nurture better than he did before. to see beauty and nourish it instead of destroy it or twist it. he learns piano finding romance in the music. 

he got over his eating disorder and began cooking, become a rather skilled chef with his friends help and had more regular meals especially under his guidance when he couldn't cook then the other would do it for him. feeding him steadily every day to build his appetite back up again. 

he took more care to exercise and keep his body and health much more good, nothing amazing but finally the average. he also got a couple jobs all that would help him with communication and learning new talents or discovering his own further.

slowly he stopped flinching every time someone tried to touch or did touch him. small touches from his friends ease him along, an arm slung around his shoulders, a hand in his own, a gentle hug. he finds a makeshift home and love and happiness where everyone isn't trying overly hard to find a way to nurse it into him.

eventually recently he has came to a point where he can cancel his therapy sessions comfortably and flush those pills to help with that anxiety and unbearable sadness. somehow he learns how to breathe again all by himself without someone else coaching him through it all.

EXTRA: 

woojin is gay so romance plots are only applicable to other male muses however in the past before he knew of his sexuality he could’ve had an ex girlfriend or two!

potential romance plot inspiration heavily inspired by the poem yes & no by natalie wee. there’s a lot of flexibility on this one in terms of timeframing so just hit me up to discuss it more after reading the poem if you’re interested !!

the usual plots are of course up for grabs: childhood best friend, current best friend, ex’s, first love, friends he met through therapy, friends he met in the foster system, confidant, coffee fix partner, fake dating, study partner ( he’s studying music ofc and he specializes in production ), someone he writes lyrics for, someone he writes lyrics with or produces with, someone who makes him realize how amazing his lyrics actually are and how much potential lies within that talent as a career goal, his muse, i imagine he works a part time job as a waiter so do with that what u will maybe they can be work buddies?, also does babysitting every now and then for extra cash, etc. 

[yespoetry]

An Interview with Maryan Nagy Captan

copy/body by Maryan Nagy Captan is a poetry collection that explores identity, place, home, gender, and family dynamics. It was originally published by Empty Set Press in 2017. With the close of Empty Set earlier this, we have partnered up with ESP and are offering the chapbook as a free ebook. You can read an interview with the Captan below (and poems from the collection are forthcoming on our site on Monday, October 14), and can download the collection here and below.

Did you write this collection to any kind of music?

This collection spans about 9 years worth of work. The oldest poem in the collection, "Housewife", was written in 2009 while "Blood Pact" was completed in 2017.  There are so many albums that are my tried and true and have been for the past decade which deeply influenced the bulk of the work: The Lemon of Pink by The Books,  Shake Shugaree by Elizabeth Cotton, Veneer by Jose Gonzalez, Noah’s Ark by CocoRosie, Aquimini by Outkast, Rain Dogs by Tom Waits, Plaisirs D'Amour by Rene Aubry, anything by Bessie Smith, anything by Kendrick Lamar, anything by John Cage, In Rainbows by Radiohead, the list goes on and on. 

Describe your favorite meal.   

I'm not sure if it qualifies as a meal but a minimum of 20 pieces of my mama's waraq ineb drenched in lemon juice (preferably eaten on the couch next to my dad while we switch between watching Wimbleton and Lebanese soap operas on DISH Network).

Choose three books that you've always identified with?  

I have such a hard time answering questions about identifying with books or characters. I think partially because I don’t read narratives where I identify with the characters. I read to escape into form and language. However, I do have books that I love and have read many, many times over the last several years. Tender Buttons by Gertrude Stein is a bible, as is Recyclopedia by Harryette Mullen, and Zong! by M. NourbeSe Philip come to mind. 

However, I find myself identifying much, much more strongly with visual art. I feel most connected to the work of Masao Yamamoto, Louis Bourgeois, Joan Miro, Paula Rego, and Ren Hang. 

Choose one painting that describes who you are. What is it?  

For the past few years, I’ve been enamored with the work of Julie Speed, an oil painter and collage artist based in Marfa, TX. My current favorite piece is titled “Eyes to See.” How does it describe me? I like to think that I am both figures in this painting. As a writer and performance poet, I get self conscious about overwriting or being too insistent in the work. As a reader and citizen of the world, I sometimes feel overwhelmed by the amount of information and insight that we’re expected to consume regularly. It can be suffocating. 

However, behind all the chaos of humanity is a bird and a tree and an open window.  I think this aspect speaks strongly to my desire to always find a sliver of hope in everything: an escape, a reminder, a moment of joy.

What do you imagine the apocalypse is like? How would you want to die?  

Even though it’s a terrible movie, I always loved the premise of The Happening. In it, plant life develops an airborne toxin that causes humans to commit suicide. 

In this version of the apocalypse, instead of an airborne toxin, all plants and trees develop a taste for human blood and devour all of humanity in a few days. I wouldn’t want it to last too long because it sounds horrific. 

In this scenario, I’d prefer to be gently leaning onto and then very suddenly be absorbed into Bald Cypress. Though, I hope I’m the first to go because I’m way too soft to actually witness any of this.

If you could only watch three films for the rest of your life, what would they be?  

This one’s too hard but okay: Beetlejuice, Cairo Station, and Chungking Express.

Where do you find inspiration lately?

Lately, I’ve been screenwriting and studying storytelling. It’s been really energizing and it’s changing the way I think about poetry. I’ve always been inspired by what I feel most challenged by so right now, I’m learning to tell stories through narrative and the three act structure rather than through emotion and musicality.  It’s really hard but the creative payoff is huge.

Where did you write most of your book? 

The majority of the book was written in Philadelphia, and three of the poems were written in Keene Valley, NY during a residency with Paul Smith College of the Adirondacks.

What was something surprised you recently?

I recently learned that a placebo can still have a positive effect on someone even if they know it’s a placebo which I thought was so fascinating.

What do you carry with you at all times?   

A piece of mica from Clark Park in West Philly.

Tell us a bit about your writing process. What works and what doesn't? What doesn't, but you keep trying it anyway?

I’ve always been self conscious about how little I produce but I’ve slowly come to understand over the years that I don’t write unless I feel compelled to.  

I can meditate on a poem for days before actually writing it. I’m obsessed with subjectivity (as a concept and with my own) and I feel most compelled to write when I’m in a state of deep introspection. I’ll meditate on an idea for days and when a poem finally comes, I’ll spend eight months editing it to death. I have some poems that have gone through 30-40 different drafts. The biggest challenge for me is to write a poem, edit once, then twice, and be done with it. The poem is done after the second edit. It has to be. 

One of my favorite mantras comes from the teachings of J. Krishnamurti: Observe your confusion. Study it. 

For me, what works is writing about something that scares me about myself.  At the present moment, I’m most interested in examining how I’m complicit in, even though I protest against, the deconstruction of the natural world. I’m attracted to hypocrisy as a theme and find it really difficult to write without relying on tropes. 

What doesn’t work for me is sitting down and saying “I’m going to write a poem.” The compulsion to write is an integral part of the process. Without it, ideas just don’t come. 

What are some of your daily rituals or routines?  

Birdwatching and drinking coffee is my favorite daily ritual because I like to pretend I’m retired even though I’ll probably be working for the rest of my life. (: 

What was the hardest part about writing this book?

Honestly, when Angelo invited me to publish with Empty Set, I already had these poems ready. They span the length of nearly a decade and I had already performed them dozens of times. These are the poems of my 20s. 

Now, that I’m in my 30s and working on a new collection, one that is intentionally thematically linked and far more narrative, I think the obstacle I keep coming up against is the question of whether or not each of the poems is building on the last or if the poems are merely reiterating the same ideas. 

copy/body is as a book is a collage: the poems are linked by their musicality, language play, and loose themes of domesticity. The current book I’m working on is much more intentionally themed and though there are individual pieces, the book is designed to be read as one long poem.

Ultimately, the hardest part of writing copy/body was finding the time to write and the hardest part about having time to write is actually writing. But maybe that’s the case for everything.

Define happiness for you. 

The silence of a desert.

Maryan Nagy Captan is an experimental writer, educator, and performance poet based in Austin, Texas. She is a Fellow at The Michener Center for Writers and serves as the Marketing Director for Bat City Review. Maryan is the author of copy/body (Empty Set Press, 2017) and an alumna of the Disquiet International Literary Program. Her work has appeared in or is forthcoming in The Egyptian Writers Folio (Anomaly Press), Foundry, AJAR, Apiary Magazine, Mantra Review, Boneless/Skinless, Sundog Lit, and elsewhere.

Joanna C. Valente is a human who lives in Brooklyn, New York. They are the author of Sirs & Madams, The Gods Are Dead, Marys of the Sea, Sexting Ghosts, Xenos, No(body), #Survivor, (forthcoming, The Operating System), and is the editor of A Shadow Map: Writing by Survivors of Sexual Assault. They received their MFA in writing at Sarah Lawrence College. Joanna is the founder of Yes Poetry and the senior managing editor for Luna Luna Magazine. Some of their writing has appeared in The Rumpus, Them, Brooklyn Magazine, BUST, and elsewhere. Joanna also leads workshops at Brooklyn Poets. joannavalente.com / Twitter: @joannasaid / IG: joannacvalente / FB: joannacvalente

[gayneral]

All those flowers, my dude

First of all thank you for asking, this will be longAlso as this took me almsot two weeks already I took the liberty of leaving some queastions out so I wouldn’t take even longerSince this was answered over a longer time span some questions that are aimed at certain days may be slightly outdated (ed what are u wearing today and such)

Alisons: Sexuality?I’m gay my dudes

Amaranth: Pronouns/Gender?He/Him, male

Amaryllis: Birthday?My Birthday is in June

Anemone: Favorite flower?This is gonna sound lame as fuck but I rly like roses, red ones in particular

Angelonia: Favorite t.v. show?I can’t choose but here are some favorites:

Peaky Blinders, I’ve watched this one so often,,, Cillian Murphy was what got me into it and I stayed for beautiful scenes and atmosphere and the gang drama

Gotham, Let’s be honest, the best thing abt dc are their villains (also suuuuper into Robin Lord Taylor as Oswald)

Brooklyn Nine-Nine and The Office, i like these because they are easy, nice and satisfy my need to have something running in the background while I’m at home. (Also insanely sweet in the case of BB9)

Aster: What’s one of your favorite quotes?One I still remember strongly is from two boys kissing “you should all live to meet your future selves”

Also many of the poems by keaton st james deeply resonate with me so check those out (most are religious-ish just in case that’s a no no for you)

Aubrieta: Favorite drink?I gotta be boring and say water

I like hot chocolate and a special kind of peach tea and some soda I drank in brazil but water,, yeah I drink that most,, love hydration

Baby’s Breath: Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?Nope

Balsam Fir: Have you ever been in love?I am, right now, at this very moment

Baneberries: Favorite song?I can’t give you an all time favorite so here’s a random favorite I currently like listening to: Sedated by Hozier

Basket of Gold: Describe your family.My family is not very big and actually hasn’t been a family for a very long time. Namely it’s my dad, my sister, my grandparents, my dads wife, her son, our dog and I. I have never experienced family in my youth so sometimes when I’m with them it’s all very odd. And sometimes it’s stressful. But it’s the first time I actually miss family when I’m alone at home, far away. I speak about my father and my grandparents further below but my sister is very sweet and I’m pretty protective of her, she and I get along a lot better now than before which is a common trait as ull see later.

We often take care of things, and are probably the most planning of the family. My dad’s wife is very good to talk to, having a very different perspective from my own and will always offer up advice. Her son is currently in pirperty and more interested in playing fortnite than anything which makes for some explosiveness at home. Our dog is cute and perfect that’s it.

Begonia: Favorite color?I like blue tones, but a dark, rusy kind of red is cool too

Bellflower: Favorite animal?Dogs Dogs Dogs. By far my favorite animal, they fill my heart with joy. Next up, Giraffes, funny big boys

Bergenia: Are you a morning or night person?Morning I think, I definitely work best early.

Bloodroots: When you were a kid, what did you want to be when you grew up?I actually never really had a dream job as a child. Not that I remember at least.

Bluemink: What are your thoughts on children?While I generally ain’t a big fan, like I’m someone very based on conversations so obviously that’s hard w kids. I am growing more to them. I’m far from wanting one but I think children are special in their.. Like innocence. They are beyond all the bitterness and hatred that we adults have. If only parents would be better lmao

Blazing Stars: What are you afraid of? Is there a reason why?I’m afraid of many things. Change for example. And failure. I think that might be because being perfect was important when I grew up and whatever I did it was never enough to my mother especially. Perhaps that has become so deep rooted that I tell myself I can not fail, which makes me very nervous and makes me worry too much.

Borage: Give a random fact about your childhood.I spend lots of time on building sites and in hardware stores because my grandparents have houses and my parents often would work there too.

Buttercup: Relationship Status?Single

Candytufts: When do you feel most loved?God I don’t know, I think it’s probably when I’m with someone I care about and it’s easy and light and fun and I feel comfortable and they tell me that they like being around me, or that I made them happy with something.

Canna: Do you have any tattoos?Nope,wanted to have some but money and shit

Canterbury Bells: Do you have any piercings?  I have my ears pierced, but it’s the earlobes so the most basic thing

California Poppy: Height?  I insist on 1,70 at least, I will not accept being under that.

Cardinal Flower: Do you believe in ghosts?In a way, yeah

Carnation: What are you currently wearing?My new boots, black pants, winter coat, black jacket, a blue button up and a lord of the rings shirt underneath. Obviously underwear

Catnip: Have you ever slept with a nightlight?When I was a child for sure

Chives: Who was the last person you hugged?A person from school, who’s also in fashion design, but a few years above me that I got to know bc of cosplay.

Chrysanthemum: Who’s the last person you kissed?My Ex

Cock’s Comb: Favorite font?God idk, I like oldish looking ones, elegant ‘n stuff

Columbine: Are you tired?Nah, actually not rn

Common Boneset: What are you looking forward to?Sam visiting me in March

Coneflower: Dream job?I’m not sure, definitely something w sewing but idk if I wanna go theater or my own things

Crane’s-Bill: Introvert or extrovert?Introvert

Crocus: Have you ever been in love?Yeh

Crown Imperial: What’s the farthest you would go for someone you care about?Very very far

I’d say I’m pretty damn loyal and also give myself up easily even without noticing. If someone has my love and my loyalty they have my everything basically. Would I commit a terrible crime? I don’t know. Would I be real mean to someone or punch them? Yeah, if it’s reasonable w the situation I would (would it be affective? Not sure)

Give myself up? If we’re thinking real dramatic..maybe yeah

Daffodil: What’s your zodiac sign?Gemini

Dahlia: Have you done anything worth remembering?Funny or stupid things? MaybeOtherwise honourable stuff, i don’t think so, i don’t view my actions like that.

I mean I survived, that’s pretty cool

Daisy: What do you feel is your greatest accomplishment?Above mentioned survival. Which includes making it out of my mother and her boyfriends abusive grip and household. Moving away. Being true to myself. Dragging myself out of the hole I had fallen in for a while. Getting close w my dad and family. Believing more in myself and stopping things that are not good for me. Getting an apprenticeship that I like. Moving forward in life

Daylily: What would you do if your parents didn’t like your partner(s)?If it’d be my dad I’d sit down with him and ask him why exactly. I have had a relationship before in which I did not see how badly I was treated/ that I basically searched someone like my mother. So I’d listen, perhaps to prevent from making the same mistake again. If it turns out it’s nothing reasonable I think I’d tell him that I will pursue the relationship anyway and ask him to respect that and be as nice as possible to my partner.

If it’d be my mother.. No surprise she doesn’t even like me and honestly I wouldn’t give a shit.

Dendrobium: Who is the last person that you said “I love you” to?Did I say it? Not sure but written it in a letter, it was Sam

False Goat’s Beard: What is something you are good at?If my grades speak for themselves it’d be my apprenticeship, or like idk working hard about something I enjoy. I take this very seriously and give it everything I can. I’ve been told I’m good at talking, not sure if that’s true

Foxgloves: What’s something you’re bad at?I’m envious. It’s not that far that I am not happy for people, I think i generally have it under control but sometimes it gets the best of me and fills my stomach with nasty emotions.

Also saying stop. I do a lot for people, and I’ve been prone to letting people use and step on me for too long xnot standing up for myself

Freesia: What are three good things that have happened in the past month?The past month was actually absolutely terrible so not much to find here.Uhm..the bad thing that happened got our family closerI spend Christmas and new years w my familyI got amazing gifts and letters from my friends

Garden Cosmos: How was your day today?Stressful. I worked on my semester project and I feel like hardly anything worked

Gardenia: Are you happy with where you’re at in your life?I’m moving towards a happy place. But I’m definitely doing a lot better already

Gladiolus: What is something you hope to do in the next year or two?Finish my apprenticeship, surgery, be able to make my own money so I don’t have to rely on my dad so much (he does enough for me already) and so I can get more distance between my mother and I

Glory-of-the-Snow: What are ten things that make you happy/you’re grateful to have in your life?In no particular order

1. Dogs, god whenever I see a dog I’m happy because they are so cute and loyal,,,,,,,

2. probably everyone and their dog says this but my friends, honestly, I don’t know where I’d be without them. They helped me through terrible times in my life, are a constant source of love and joy to me.

3. my family. Since I didn’t have that for a long time I cherish it even more now that I do. It’s amazing to have a family that supports you behind you. I’m super grateful for everything they’ve done for me

4. the possibility to do the apprenticeship that I want to. it’s not always easy,,,I lack the money lmao but I’m so grateful that I can do this, because it makes me feel like I’m actually worth something in the working,adult world. I’m good at this

5. music. I listen to it so often, I can’t imagine not having music

6. sunshine, there’s something wonderful about going outside and feeling the warmth of the sun on your face, when it’s spring and winter has just gone by and you just have to smile because everything is bright and you’re surrounded by light

7. myself. Listen I dislike myself as much as the next guy but I’m working on appreciating myself and I am insanely proud of myself for coming as far as I have come. I don’t let myself feel it very often but having myself, it’s a good thing. I know my younger self would be very happy knowing that I did all those things for us.

8. something that makes me happy is creating, might it be art, or sewing or writing, anything really. It’s a pain in the ass and frustrating at times but I love looking at something knowing I did this, finishing it. And then looking back at it later and seeing how far I’ve come again

9. playing video games. It’s just fun to lose yourself in a story sometimes.

10. Christmas Markets. I don’t like Christmas itself. But I love the Markets, it’s the atmosphere of it. The food smells amazing and there are all those lights and there are kids with actual shining eyes because they see Christmas so magical and they are in awe by all the lights and honestly I feel the same awe sometimes when I’m on those Markets

Heliotropium: What helps you calm down when you feel stressed?  Hardly anything lmao. Listening to music. Distracting myself with either talking to someone or playing/watching something. Tho that often makes me feel guilty on the long run. What helps if stress is overwhelming me is writing down what it is that is stressing, like making a list and trying to untangle the mess, looking at what I have to do one by one

Hellebore: How do you show affection?Since I’m A  big fan of honesty I usually just say it. I like to tell people when I get some emotion. Like just telling them that I appreciate them. I think it’s nice to just be told that sometimes. Besides that I do things, like I’ll send anon messages or offer help just assisting somehow. Like not always outright having them know it’s me,like affection from afar. And well I’m helpful when I care abt someone especially, like “I can do this for you”

And being super openIt’s not alway clever as experience has shown but to me offering up things about myself means trust means affection in a way. Like giving a part of myself to someone. lmao

Hoary Stock: What are you proudest of?Making it to this point, I wasn’t in a very good state just a bit ago. But with the help of my friends and family I made it out of it. I have an apprenticeship I enjoy, I have my own flat, I have something to stand up for again. I can appreciate myself some more. I was able to see toxic relationships i was in and get away from them and not let myself be guilted but seeing them for what they are and acknowledging that while I am not a saint it doesn’t mean that I have to accept any treatment. I stood up to my mother, even if just a bit that was a huge step for me.

Hyacinth: What do you like to do in your free time?I barely had  any of it recently so I can very much put what I want to do. Which would be drawing. I haven’t done that properly in so long and I miss it. Like both sketching stuff on paper but mostly full pictures, sketching, lining and colouring somethin. Having a full art piece at the end. Also Play Games. And talk to my friends. Haven’t had a nice hour long convo with Nina or Charlotte or Sam in ages and I hate that.

Irises: Who can you talk to about (almost) everything?That’d be Charlotte and Nina

Lilac: What’s something you liked to do as a child?I would hide away in my room and imagine. Invent stories, characters, anything to distract me from how unhappy I was. I would act them out in my head when I laid in bed so I could sleep.

Lily of the Incas: What is something you still feel guilty for?I did not treat someone that I care about very well a few years ago, I didn’t give them the honesty they deserve. I was an asshole. Even if we spoke about it, I still feel very bad about it.

Lily of the Nile: What is something you feel guilty for that you shouldn’t feel guilty about?Indulging. When I have things to do but take a break I always feel super guilty for not doing anything.

Lupine: What does your name mean? Why is that your name?It seems it comes from the Roman name Julianus, and was the name of a pangan Roman Emperor as well as a name of saints. Sometimes meaning youthful which fits because I look like a baby

Marigold: Where did you grow up? Tell us about it.I grew up in a big city in Germany. Very busy City with high buildings and no time. I lived in a flat when I was very young, a room with big windows where I’d sit and look out ot. Then we moved into the house my dad still lives in. Where houses were built in rows and more people knew each other, I’d walk home and pretend to not see them as to not have to speak to them.

Then I moved in a beautiful flat in a more busy part of the city, with a bookstore in the same building and a supermarket right down the street. My hometown is best described in the colour grey. I dont think it very pretty if I’m honest.Still its full of memories and not half as bad

Morning Glory: What was your bedroom like growing up?Talking about the one in the house. Light peach coloured walls. Small but with big windows to look out of. An old wooden bed in front of one Window, and even older Closet next to the door, already so old that it had been ancient when my dad had been young. A desk in one corner at the other side of the room, above it shelves filled with books, little trinkets on the windowsills. Cabinets filled with paper full of secrets. Posters on the Walls and a round mirror that I hated looking into when I was young.

Mugworts: What was it like for you as a teenager? Did you enjoy your teenage years?  God no. I have repressed most of my younger years. My teenage years were filled with confusion and self doubt. I was a mess, I hated myself, not knowing who I was. And then knowing but being shamed for it, hiding away and keeping my head low to survive. Pushing myself to the limits and clinging to the thought that I could escape at age 18

Norwegian Angelica: Tell us about your mom.My Mother and I are not on good terms. I’ve spend countless of years desperately attempting to please her, hoping for love or anything close to it. I was constantly let down by her. My mother is someone that I fear I’ll never understand, adapting to the men that she is with. Claiming to have reached compassion and selflessness while being the opposite. Acts childish and has never accepted or supported me. Now attempts to lure in my sister whom I fear for as she’s always wanted my mother to love her. I have estranged from her very much and currently I am happy seeing her as less as possible.

Onions: Tell about your dad.  I remember my father as a very autocratic person in my youth. He’d always work and would only be home to cast judgement. We did not get along well, and my mother, like grima wormtongue, had influenced me further into seeing him as a terrible person. Now I see him very differently. In fact I am similar to my father. Hard working, well spoken and crafty. We share a similar humor and I am very thankful for his support over the last year. To me my father is a very good example of how sometimes people can actually change, sometimes second chances will not disappoint you. My father cares very much about our family and I am happy to have gotten close to him again.

Orchid: Tell about your grandparents.I won’t lose many words about my mother’s parents as there isn’t much to say about them.My mothers father was always sick, more often because he believed he was. The years before he died it had only gotten worse. My Grandmother was never really happy in that relationship, something I believe she handed down to my mother.

My fathers parentsWell, when I was young it was difficult, they aren’t exactly children people, despite trying. I especially had my difficulties with my grandmother, who was work above everything and wanted everything to be perfect.I remember her always fixing my clothing. Countless of instances of her and my dad arguing.

When I got older we had barely any contract until I had my coming out to my dad, who told my grandparents. Much to my surprise and I still respect that so much, they were immediately supportive and accepting, perhaps even more than anyone else from my family.

In the last year we grew closer. They helped me with my flat and would come over to set up a few things. I took them to a restaurant that my grandfather would always talk about whenever we talked, happily.

My grandmother and I had phone calls at least once a week, she was also the most interested in my apprenticeship, always curious, sending me old magazines and ideas she had. As well as button ups and shirts she had bought for me or old ones from my grandfather.She offered me support when we talked, told me they’d do anything they could

When my sister and I were getting clothing for my grandpa, as he was saying with us, I found a book on my grandmother’s bedside table.It was an educational oneIn it was also an article she had cut out of a newspaper, the title saying how the support of the family is the most important thing to lgbt children.

I miss my grandmother

Peony: What was your first job?I worked a summer at my mothers workplace. Cleaning watches and watch straps, replacing small things on the straps

Petunia: If you’re in a relationship, how did you meet your partner(s)? If you’re not in a relationship, how did you meet your crush/how do you hope to meet your future partner(s), if you want any?We met 2014 on a cosplay convention in the city I grew up in. We met on the first day of that, where we all hung out in a group and then he and Charlotte spend the next day w us as well.

Pincushion: How do you deal with pain?I bottle it up, focus on something that keeps me busy. Sometimes other people’s pain or doing things for them. Distraction from thoughts really. I’m best when I’m busy

Pink: Where is home?If you’d asked me a couple of months ago my answer would’ve been easy and quick. But now phew, I mean I call my place home as in “I’m going home” and I call my dads place home as in “I was home over the holidays”

But I’m not sure, not really

Plantain Lilies: If you could go back in time, what is one thing you would stop/change?I could go endlessly both about important historical events and tragedies as well as personal mishaps and bad choices. But eventually I actually think this is too big of a question to answer like this. I’m generally better in speech than word when it comes to things like that

Primrose: Describe your ideal life.Steady. As in a job that I like, that provides me with enough money to survive well. Not to worry about everything. Having Dogs, as that I something I always wanted. Living somewhere in the city (always dreamed of a Fachwerk House but yeah…), with the possibility to visit my friends that I am in good contact in. Living with love and happiness. With a connection to my family still as good as now. Perhaps with someone,,,

Rose: What’s your favorite sound?I love the sound of paper, like books, pages turning, things like that. Also soft rain

Sage: What’s your least favorite memory?I’m a Class A represser. So it’d probably be many things centered abt my mother.

Snapdragon: At this moment, what do you want?  I want my semester presentation to go well tomorrow. That’s all I care abt rn

St. John’s Wort: Is it easy or difficult for you to express how you feel about things? It used to be harder in the past but I’ve gotten slightly better at it. I’m still struggling with feeling but it’s a work in progress.

Sunflower: What is something you don’t want to imagine life without?My Friends and Family, cheesy I know but over the last year I’ve become more set in that. Once more I noticed how much strength those can give you. And also noticed how important they are to me by the way things that happen hurt me

Sweet Pea: How much sleep did you get last night?7 hours, couldn’t fall asleep at first but that’s usually my minimum of sleep

Tickseed: What’s your main reason to get up every morning?School. I have a timed, strict schedule thanks to that and it forces me to get up until a certain time in the morning. That helps a lot actually

Touch-Me-Not: How do you feel about your current job?I’m still in an apprenticeship but I enjoy it a lot

Transvaal Daisy: What’s your favorite item of clothing?I have a new pair of shoes that are so beautiful I wish I had the look and body and style to wear them day to day. Also got some cool button ups

Tropical White Morning Glory: Describe your aesthetic.Look at this and you’ll see first hand https://www.pinterest.de/Gayneral/

I’m sorry I’m bad at desctibing my aesthetic. It’s like, historical stuff, museums, snowey Fachwerk, religious themed things, bee themed things, watches…

Vervain: What’s stressing you out most right now?My semester project is due to two and a half weeks and I’m super nervous about finishing it like boooooy

Wisteria: How many books have you read in the past few months? What were they called?Sadly I’ve been super busy recently so I’ve only been able to read a tiny bit in my holidays, Acht Nacht by Sebastian Fitzek

Wolf’s Bane: Where do you want to be in life this time next year?Still in school, doing good, and enjoying it

Still having a good relationship w my father, my sister and that whole family

Still good with my friends, hopefully seeing them more often

(maybe in a relationship pls don’t @ me)

Generally happy, not having to worry too much

Yarrow: Do you know what vore is?Thanks to tumblr I do, and I hate it

Zinnia: Give a random fact about yourself.I take my school very seriously. And I have zero tolerance for those in our school that don’t.

[faiseuse-d-histoires]

ML Valentines Exchange

Hi @oomlauts! 

I am your exchange partner  for the @ml-valentines exchange :) 

That is my first attempt at writing for this fandom. I hope you will like it and wish you a good Valentine’s Day!!

(PS: English is not my mother tongue, so I’m sorry in advance if there are a few mistakes)

                            « Adrien can’t draw for shit but does anyways »

 There was a lot of things Adrien Agreste could do.

He was a great fencer and could kick asses easily while doing the catwalk (after all, he wasn’t the great Chat Noir for nothing). He could recite every element on the periodic table in a heartbeat. His talents on foreign languages and diplomacy were aknowledged, which made him certainly the most agreeable model for a photograph to handle. He could decipher any code, including the Morse one.

Furthermore, he was handsome, and most certainly good at being it. He was aware of that fact since day one, as everyone around him told him that fact. They were describing his vivid green eyes that always seemed so bright, and the gold in his hair that contrasted nicely with his sun tanning. He even received poems about it.

So why deny it ? He was sexy.

Plus, to his opinion, he was a great matchmaker. Romance was certainly one of his best subjects, right after physics.

But that talent was not enough aknowledged for his pleasure. Too bad his lady and his friends couldn’t see it.

After all, wasn’t he the one who tried to set his best friend Nino with the cute Marinette ?

Sure, it did not work at the end. But he was quite proud on the lines that he told Nino that day. If his friend had not been so tongue-tied, he would certainly have had the girl.

(And then he wouldn’t have the strange idea that HE was the one in love with her. Not that she wasn’t pretty. Or smart. But still. There’s Ladybug. Duh. )

And people tend to tell him that he was quite socially awkward ! How vexing !

Well, of course, he was a little bit, but since his father decided to let him go to school, he had certainly greatly improved on that aspect…. Right ?

No matter what Ladybug said when he was Chat Noir. His lady, the love of his life tended to be quite unimpressed with his prowesses.

But… that was an other aspect of his life.

However, there was still one thing that this golden boy couldn’t do to save his life.

Drawing.

It wasn’t for lack of trying. In fact, you could say it was quite pathetic how much the poor guy tried. But even his father had given up on him, and could only look at his drawings with a pitiful glance.

Adrien knew it wasn’t his forte. But he did not think it was that bad. Certainly there was some beauty in the expression of his art that only a few could see.

So he kept trying, hoping one day that somebody would read between the lines of it. Sort of. That was his psychologist tended to say.

But we don’t care about his opinion anyway.

And as fewer and fewer people seemed to take interest on what he was drawing, he began to show less and less of his productions.

It could have stayed that way. It certainly should have stayed that way : him trying over and over, on his lonely own and nobody ever paying attention to it. And it would have been fine. Almost.

But then, one moment changed it all.

One moment he witnessed between Marinette and Nathanael.

He knew the guy to be a great artist, with a hair colour that matched tomatoes. He was nice, from what he heard (not that he really tried to talk to him), and quite creative, but of course he was an artist, duh.

And he had an definitely obvious crush on Marinette. His really good friend.

Adrien was never the one to be jealous of anyone. After all, he was the golden boy, and, to his dismay, it seemed that he had also quite the reputation of a cinnamon roll (or so they say). Whatever that was.

So no, he was certainly not jealous.

It was just that it was strange that this guy was still trying even though she clearly did not seem interested.

Or was she ?

‘Wow, it’s really good, Nathanaël !’ Said Marinette, her bright smile illuminating the whole room. ‘The colours, the shades… It looks almost real !’

Why didn’t she smile at him like that ? It seemed like whenever she was around him, she was all so jumpy and cringy !

‘T-thanks Marinette, I really appreciate it !’ Said guy blushed, his gaze falling suddenly to the floor, to then look back at her once again with more confidence.

Adrien was sure that his cheeks would have had the same shade if he just pinched them.

‘No, really, you’re amazing !’ She continued. ‘All this details… I can’t believe it’s me !’

Okay, she was making it too big of a deal.

First of all, okay, maybe the guy was good with a pencil. He said so himself. But certainly, he wasn’t that good to the point that she had to litterally gush about it.

Certainly, if she was that impressionnable, maybe HE could certainly impress her too.

The idea crept inside him, and slowly, it grew.  

That’s how he found himself a few minutes after, with a pen on his hand and a piece on paper.

And that’s when it went mad.

‘What is he doing ?’ Alya whispered to Nino, her head leaning to reach his ear. ‘He looks like he wants to kill somebody.’

Her boyfriend shrugged, trying to ignore the blush that was raising to his cheeks.

‘I don’t know. And I don’t want to know.’

But Adrien did not pay any attention to it. Suddenly, his whole imagination was taking him in, and he found himself scribbling details after details. He did not really think what it was, until it was there, in front of him

It was useless to say that he was proud of his work.

And, certainly, she would be impressed.

He was sure of it. But strangely, that confidence did not follow him when, at the end of the class, he tried to give it to her.

‘Marinette ?’

‘A-Adrien ?’

She blinked at him, as if unsure that he was actually talking to her. Under her stare, he fidgeted.

Damn, she was making him feel nervous !

It was just a gift, for God’s sake !

‘Err… How’re doing ?’

That’s when she reacted. In a very jumpy way.

‘Mine ! … I-I mean I’m fine, not that you’re…’

He laughed softly. Typical Marinette.

‘It’s okay,’ He said gently. ‘Take your time.’

She smiled brightly at him.

And the butterflies started to fly on his stomach.

He gaped a little. And forgot totally what he wanted to do.

He could do it. He could give it to her. After all, friends do that all the time, giving each others stuffs.

Right ?

After all, Nathanael did it.

And he would hate it if that guy was a better friend than him.

‘I… I have to go.’

His eyes widened and raised toward her. What ? So soon ?

Or maybe he had been thinking too long and actually, they stood here for more than just seconds.

At least, that was what the empty classroom they were now in suggested.

That. Was. Awkward.

‘Oh.’

‘Er… It’s not that I don’t want to be with you, (‘cause of course I WANT to be with you, she mumbled), b-but… my parents are waiting for me and…’

Generally it was him that had to leave early, with always some photoshoot or class. So he could totally understand.

‘Okay, it’s fine, I understand, Marinette.’ He smiled.

She was so sweet.

She looked at him a long time, her lips a bit open, and then shook her head. Then she smiled and turned her heels.

‘Well, then, see you, Adrien !’ She said

‘See…’

He was about to say it bacj, but then, something strange happened.

Or, to be exact, a strange feeling filled him in. Like a déjà vu. But a really nice déjà vu, except there lacked some red colour on it…

…

What was wrong with him ?

It bothered him. A lot.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t feel it already around that girl. It was a feeling that would come and go, and then, he wouldn’t think much about it.

But he hadn’t felt that strongly before.

So why now ?

Was it because he was jealous ? But why would he be ? Hasn’t she already been around other boys before ?

Well, apart from Nino…

Or was there another reason ?

Was it because of the other night, when he saw her at her balcony ?

She had been a good friend to him, listening to him and just… being with him. And he tried to do the same. That may be why he felt suddenly closer to her.

That had to be it.

He went home and did his usual chores. It was easy, automatic. Leaving him time to think.

But the feeling did not leave him alone and that was all he could think about.

So it was no surprise that it came in the discussion with his dear Ladybug, a little while after the end of patrol.

*

‘Well, there’s a girl…’

Ladybug stiffened. Her hand was paralyzed on her yo-yo.  Then, slowly, she turned towards him, a teasing smile on her lips.

‘Moving on from me already, aren’t you, chaton ?’

He sent her a wide smile.

‘You know that’s not true.’

‘So, what is it ?’

‘Well, there’s this boy…’

She looked at him strangely, an eyebrow raised..

‘I didn’t know you swing that way… But after all, with all that leather…’

‘what ? No, of course I’m… Nevermind. I shoudn’t have asked you.’

‘Ow, come on, Chaton. Of course, you can tell me.’

‘It seems silly now that I think about it.’

‘Okay. Well, this girl, she… always seems nervous around me. Always stutterring and doing crazy things when I’m around…’

‘She likes you,’ She said automatically.

Okay, that’s when his brain exploded.

‘Mar… er… no, no, no, you’ve got it all wrong ! She’s just a friend !’

She stared at him a few minutes, bewildered by the abruptness of his answer and he couldn’t help but blush under her gaze.

He looked away, trying to think of anything beside her obvious pretty blue eyes, that were so similar to…

Damn it.

‘Plus she seems so ill – at -ease when she’s around me’, he added in afterthought. She stutters, falls and sometimes… I feel like she’s avoiding me…’

‘I don’t think she dislikes me ! It’s just… I don’t want to make her unconfortable.’

She sighed.

‘If you think so. But to make you think, I always am like that when I’m in front of my crush, so I quite feel bad for her.’

Oh. Right. He had forgot about that guy.

Damn. Another arrow in the heart.

What followed was an awkward silence. Silence that he couldn’t help but break.

‘I wanted to give her something.’

‘Who ?’ She blinked. ‘The girl you like ?’

He protested. ‘I’m not…’

She smiled. ‘It’s okay, Chat, I get it. I’m only teasing you.’

He sighed. Then, finally, after a few minutes, managed to say something.

‘I can’t give it to her.’

‘Why ?’ She asked, softly.

He fidgeted. ‘It…’

She raised an eyebrow. ‘Well ?’

‘I don’t think she will like it.’

‘Why not ?’

‘You will laugh at me.’

‘Certainly not.’

He stared at her, unconvinced. She just smiled in return, encouragingly. He stared, then turned back, letting his breathe escape a little bit, so he wouldn’t feel that burdened.

‘There are certainly other gifts that are better than this. ‘

His head dropped a bit. He remembered all the glances that his father gave to his drawings. Certainly, it was not something suitable to give. Plus, maybe it wasn’t for a good reason anyway…

She laughed, interromping his thoughts.

‘Ow, come on, Chat, it’s so silly !’

‘Hey !’ He protested.

‘It is !’ She chuckled, before adding teasingly : ‘I did not know you were so unsecure, Chaton…  Where are all the bravados, now ?’

He broke a smile.

‘You’re right, it is silly.’

Silence. Then, she said, her gaze turned towards the

‘You seem to like her a lot, that girl.’

He jumped, then grimaced. But he could not ignore the heat that was growing on his cheeks.

‘Argh, not you too !’

She laughed. But he could tell something was off.

‘Well, you should give it to her, then. Your gift.’

He lowered his head, undecisive.

‘You really think she will like it ?’

‘I’m sure she will love it !’

‘You did not even seen it.’

She put her hand on his shoulder.

‘I don’t need to,’ she said softly.

At this gesture, he turned himself towards her and looked at her gracious figure. Her dark hair dancing with the wind, her blue-bell eyes that were locked so softly with his own, that sweet smile directed at him…

It was not a side of her he saw often. Generally, they were on mission and had to get back to business quite quickly. Even in patrols, both teens sometimes had to struggle against the urge to sleep, so private moments were quite rare.

She was not the brave and crazy Ladybug that could create some mad plan to make everything okay. In this moment, she was his friend, supportive and sweet as he always knew she was.

If he was in his right mind, he would say that she looked a bit like…

Oh. He stilled, paralyzed by the parallel he was making. She seemed unaware of his change of attitude and leaned againt him, closing her eyes softly as if she was tempted to sleep (he wouldn’t have mind).

That wasn’t the first time this night that he had that kind of thought.

Maybe fate was trying to tell him something. Hopefully.

His eyes widened.

Could it be ?

Then the moment was gone and she just left, leaving with a yawn and mumbling about Physics tests and a teacher named Mendeliev that would certainly erase her from the universe if she slept in class.

He rolled his eyes at the drama.  

Wait, what ?

HE had a test in Physics tomorrow. HE had a teacher named Mendeliev.

Could it be ?

That was too much for it not to be true.

All this time, he had been wondering. All this time, the pieces had been left for him, scattered and, blind as he was, he couldn’t just make them click. And now, without even knowing, she just gave him the answer to his question.

Or did she ?

There was so many classes that could have had testes, nonetheless in physics.

His mind was running wild, so he decided to do the same with his body. So run, he did.

SO what if he was wrong ? WHat if he was just seeing things that did not exist ?

He could not tolerate being in this state of uncertainty. No matter how great his respect for his Lady, he had to know. He certainly had to know, after what she let slip that night.

He stood, determined to get the answers out of this mess.

But that’s when he realized that he was already home.

And that’s when, without him controling it, PLagg released his transformation.

And laughed at him. Hard.

‘Ahahaha ! You should have seen your face !! And to think… To think that you would realize after just a little slip about some test, when there had been so much more that were even bigger !!!’

‘So it’s true, then ?!’

His kwami ceased to smile, looking at him with his big eyes.

‘Oh. You were still doubting it.’

‘Plagg..’

‘My bad.’

He stayed here a long time, pondering the question. Marinette. Ladybug. Ladybug. Marinette. He thought about it so much that both pictures seemed to take the place of the other, always fitting perfectly.

And then he realized.

Did he really try to set up his best friend with the love of his life ?

‘What have I done, Plagg ??’

The little Kwami sighed, but did not answer. Instead, he decided to take shelter on his bin with a slice of Camembert, leaving his poor Chosen deal with the drama and fall pathetically on his bed as if he attempted to drown in the covers.

*

The next day was awkward. Especially when, for a strange reason, they seemed to enter the classroom at the same time.

Even like this, they were in sync. And he wasn’t sure it was a good thing.

‘Er, Ma-Marinette ! Hi !’

‘HII !!’ She shrieked.

‘Er… How’re doing ?’

No, Adrien, you’re not Chat ! He thought … Yet.

‘F-fine  am I ! I mean… am I fine… Oh damn… I’m fine !’

He stared at her, perplexed.

Why was she acting like that around him ?

Not that he hadn’t asked himself that question the other time, but still.

Around Chat, whether she was Marinette or Ladybug, she was so level-minded, and quite sassy too.

That could only mean one thing.

He freaking scared her.

So it meant that he had no chance with her on both sides.

Just his luck.

He sighed and sat at his place, his gaze falling sadly to the floor.

But then, he thought about it. Hard.

How Adrien Agreste could be more frightening that Chat noir, who could litterally destroy anything he touched ?

Damn, that girl was complicated.

He buried his face on his arms, and that’s how his best friend found him, minutes later.

‘Dude,’ he called up  You’re worrying Marinette.’

He raised his head, staring backward, towards the poor Marinette who wasn’t ready for such a sudden gesture. SHe blushed. Then turned her eyes furiously on her notes.

He sighed. Yep, she was definitely crept out.

Nino smirked. But said nothing. The class was already beginning.

The real time to talk with her came at the break.

And, surprisingly, it came smoothly. Alya and Nino were already outside, certainly making out (he didn’t really want to know the details).

It was almost cliche. For, when he stood to leave, a paper fell from his bag.

The drawing.

Had he really left the drawing in a way that made it easy to fall ?

Damn. No wonder he had the tendancy to loose things.

He took the paper in a way that he hoped was completely unsuspicious.

He couldn’t give it to her yesterday, so there was no way that he would give it now.

Especially now that he knew that she was his Lady.

‘W- what are you hiding ? ?’

Damn it.

Then, he smirked.

She did not need to know it was for her, right ?

Well, seemed like his lady was curious… Hadn’t he already told her about curiosity and cat ?

She fidgeted.

‘I-I’m sorry if I’m being indiscrete and all, but…’

He smiled fondly at her cuteness. He could have laughed for the irony of the situation. It was not every day that he could make his Lady nervous like that.

Oh, wait.

‘A-adrien ?’

Right, the drawing. Now was not the moment for staring at her.

He scratched the back of his head nervously.

‘Oh, that’s just a little scrawl. Nothing too big.’

He really tried hard, in fact. But she wasn’t supposed to know.

‘Oh, I’m sure you are lovely ! I-I mean it is lovely ! Not that you aren’t lovely and all, in fact you are hands…’

He laughed.

‘Okay, Marinette, I get it. Thanks for the compliments.’

At least, he knew she found him handsome. That was certainly something, wasn’t it ?

He gave her the paper.

She frowned. Then turned the paper. Once, twice.

What was she trying to do with it ? He began to ask himself.

Noticing his eyes on her, she stood, paralyzed, her mouth agape. Then, she smiled awkwardly and began to shake the paper quite nervously.

‘Well… That’s cute. What a …. Great mammuth?’

He raised an eyebrow.

No, it was a cat. With a ladybug flying around its  nose. He couldn’t have been more obvious.

Not that he wanted the reveal to happen like that. But if it could help… ?

(And maybe even if he knew how to draw well, she wouldn’t have figured it out, he tried to reassure himself. His Lady was stubborn like that.)

‘Er… A mammuth… yeah, that’s it…’

She smiled at him with a blush on her cheeks. He almost gaped at her.

But kept his calm, of course. He was cool like that.

So… She did not figure him out, he realized, a little down.

…

Anyway, she was cute, so he could settle for that.

The reveal would come on its own way.

Someday.

Maybe.

‘Oh Plagg !!’ He whined as soon as the door of his room closed behind him.  ‘Won’t she ever understand ?’

‘Come on, kid, if you want her to know, just tell her !’

‘But I caaaaan’t !!’

‘Geez… I don’t get enough cheese for it.’

And poor Plagg sure needed it.

Few weeks passed, then a month. Adrien was getting desesperate.

He had tried everything. Had even let his inner Chat Noir out more often.

She. Just. Didn’t. Get. It.

It was no wonder that, one day, he had to crack.

Especially as Valentine’s Day was coming. A day when lovers would certainly enjoy taunting him with their happiness, when he was left with his heart on his sleeve and the definitely undecisive love of his life that sat behind him.

So when class ended, he turned towards her, determinated to get her to see.

‘Marine…’

‘AKUMA !!!’

Damn it. The universe was against him.

*

As always, the Akuma was a real pain in the… neck.

Apparently, it was some kind of librarian that had a burn-out at work because of a group of students revising for the bac. So, now, apparently, she had the ability to shut anyone up.

How convenient.

‘Well, someone’s a bit snappy, today..’ he began when he arrived in front of her. Well, it. He wasn’t even sure it was human. It looked like a Monster from Monster & Cie.

Hawkmoth sure had references, but usually they were on point.

Certainly, he was loosing his touch.

But that was not his problem for the moment.

Where the hell was Marinette ?

‘I WANT YOU TO SHUT UP !!’

‘It’s not very polite, don’t you think ?’ He teased, dodging a few blows .

Then he saw it.

That could only be it. The source of the Akuma.  Just one scratch, and he could…

‘Chat Noir,’ His lady cried, arriving suddenly to the place. ‘Don’t !’

But he did.

What he suddenly did not see was the blow that came at him, sending him backwards.

‘SHUT YOUR MOUTH !!’

That ‘s how he hit a wall for the first time that day. Hard.

The Akuma decided that it was enough for the moment, as suddenly, the students that had been bothering her showed up, running like mice would do in front of a cat.

‘Chat !!’ Marinette cried.

She ran towards him and looked after him, panicked.

He blinked.

She sure was worried for him, he realize, a warm feeling filling his belly. How cute. Didn’t she know he was thougher than that ?

He smirked. He was about to tease her about it when he realized something.

He tried to talk. Once, twice. But no sound would come out.

And when he realized it, to his dismay, she laughed.

‘I quite enjoy that new side of you, Chat Noir,’ She said with a teasing smile. ‘So much more peaceful.’

Har Har.

So bloody funny.

But how could he communicate with her, now that he couldn’t talk ?

She seemed to read his mind

‘Here,’ she said. ‘Take it. I always have it for emergencies.’

Emergencies ?

He raised an eyebrow. He had so many questions. Could her yo-yo be also used as a purse ? How could she think of such thing in the middle of a battle ?

At this point, nothing could surprise him anymore.

He glared at the piece of paper she showed him.

‘Maybe you could write something ?’ She suggested.

He tried. But when he made his first letter, it disappeared.

Ow, come on !

Seemed like the librarian was not only upset about the talking, but also about the general passing notes too.

Damn  it.

That was a matter of life and death. He had to do it.

He began to draw. And it seemed to work, surprisingly.

He tried to keep it simple.

But it seemed that even simple was hard for him.

She took the drawing from him and looked at it closely. She blinked. Once. Twice.

She blushed. Then paled. Then blushed again. And when her lips began to shake, he thought he was going to lost it.

Was he really that bad ?

Or did she (finally) figure it out ?

If that was the case, it was bad. Reveal by ugly drawings was not his idea of romantic.

(Well, now that he knew that she couldn’t see the beauty in his artistic performance anyway)

Then, she talked.  

‘Is that a mammuth ?’

He froze.                                                                                  

Did she…

Then she laughed.

‘Ow, come on, Chat Noir, you really sucks at drawing !’ She pointed the drawing right at him. ‘What is it supposed to mean, anyway ?’

Well, perhaps not.

She was more stubborn than he thought.

‘Let’s do it the old way, okay ?’ ‘No weird drawing. Just you and me, kicking some akumas’ butts.’

He smiled.

Maybe it was better this way. He could think of a better reveal later.

Hopefully.

Of course, the Akuma was defeated easily, even without him saying anything.

He sighed. It was not for this time, it seemed.

However he did not see the smile on his Lady’s face, watching him from a distance as he left.

*

The day after that, she was here early in class, and he couldn’t help but stare at her.

She seemed busy, in her own little world, with a blush on her cheeks and big blue eyes glinting with glee.

Adorable.

He wished he could know what she was drawing. A new piece of cloth, maybe.

It was Valentine’s Day. Maybe he could draw her something too ?

The hope filled him in, raising his heartbeat, and he began to do it. This time, he would stay simple, to the point, so that she could understand.

Well, much simpler than last time, of course.

(Hopefully).

But to make sure of it, once he was done, he had to verify that it was acceptable. After all, it was Valentine’s Day.

For him, it was good. But then, it was him.

He waited for the break to finally decide who he was going to ask for advice.

Nino was out of the question. He would certainly laugh at him.

Alya too, maybe. Plus, she would tell Marinette, and the surprise would be spoiled.

So it left only one option.

Ask the one that started all his questions.

He smirked.

‘You.’

Nathanael raised his head suddenly, surprised to see his classmate so close to him as he was quietly doing his last sketches.

So close and… quite menacing…

‘You’re quite the artist, right ?’ Adrien said.

‘Er… yeah ?’

‘So that means you have an eye for it.’

‘… I guess…’

‘What do you think about it ?’

Tomato guy stared blankly at the paper that his classmate showed him. Then raised his eyes at the blonde boy that was looking at him with such expectant eyes.

What a change, he wondered.

‘Well, that’s… something, you could say.’

‘That means it’s great, isn’t it ?’

‘It certainly is unique.’

Adrien smirked.

He liked that.

Unique. Like his Lady.

Perfect.

*

Perfect was also the setting when he joined her for patrol. The moon was high and full on the sky, and its soft light creating an intimate atmosphere that would certainly be good for a date.

Hopefully soon.

He wished she would recognize in this drawing the flowers on her balcony, telling her that he knew.

Finally.

‘Errrr… What’s that ?’

He deflated. Really, Marinette ? he thought. Was she really trying to kill him ?

‘Don’t you see ? It’s me and you… Under the mewnlight….’

The pun escaped his lips automatically and he couldn’t help but smile widely, anticipating her reaction.

She rolled her eyes.

‘It is the moon, right here ? I thought it was a light bulb.’

He pouted.

‘That’s rude, Buginette… I really tried to improve, this time.’

‘Ow, come on, Chaton, don’t be so upset about it. That’s really… something.’

Here, he couldn’t help but being a bit offended.

‘It’s not supposed to be just something, it’s supposed to be romantic !’

‘… What ?’

‘What ?’

‘… You have a strange definition of romantic. What are these two balloons even doing ?’

He sulked. She laughed. He crossed his arms and turned away from her, his mouth pouting.

‘Chaton… Chaton….’

He tried to ignore her. He really tried. But his lips couldn’t help but widen when she said his nickname in such a sweet way.

‘Don’t you want to know my gift for you ?’ she whispered maliciously, leaning closely towards him.

His ears raised up. (Well, his cat ears, obviously).

‘You brought me a gift ?’ He said, excited.

She laughed at his enthousiasm.

‘Of course.’ She laughed. ‘You’re my friend !’

‘Oh…’ He lowered his head, a bit disappointed by her answer.

But she did not see it, as she was too busy with looking in the bag she had took with her for patrol.

He stared at her curiously, until she turned towards him with a bright smile and a piece of paper in her hands.

‘Here,’ she said. ‘Take it.’

« What’s that ? »

‘A proper romantic drawing.’

He blinked. His mouth hung wide as he looked at it.

It was them, in each other’s arms on her balcony as their transformation ran off. Her fingers were on his hair as he was possessively pressing her against him, his own hands sliding under the back of her black shirt. Their lips were close, so close.. It was so realistic that he could almost imagine her here, in front of him, looking at him with her big blue eyes and an expectant smile dancing on her lips, her face just a few inchs from his own… It seemed he could even smell her perfume, sweet mix of cinammon, sugar and butter, and feel her warmth slowly enveloping him…

Oh.

That was bold.

He blushed. Then realized.

She knew. SHE KNEW !!

She laughed. Her head fell back on his shoulder and he could feel the vibration of it in his whole body.

‘Happy Valentines Day, Chaton.’ She whispered in his ear, her voice full of a laughter and a tenderness she could barely hide.

Then, she kissed his cheek and went away with her yoyo, leaving him unable to do anything that to stare at her retreating figure flying around the buildings of Paris.

His heart skipped a beat. His skin was tingling from where hers lips touched him.

He sighed happily, his hand still holding her gift.

Tomorrow was going to be great, he thought. Because now that he knew that she knew, nothing was stopping them. He could totally ask her out, without any weird conflict whatsoever. He knew, she knew. All was well.

By showing him what could happen, she just gave him permission. In her own way.

Oh, god, how much he loved drawings.

Especially hers.

And one day, maybe, she would see the beauty in his. He would make sure of it.

[bassant-m]

My 21 birthday

Hmmm, what can I say now I turned 21 two days ago, I still remember that time as a kid when twenties were so far away and seemed way different from how they really are for me now. I always thought sticking to 18 would be perfect but life goes on and we can't stop time right ?. Anyways, I feel so lucky to the way I spent my 21st birthday although I didn't actually celebrate and there was no cake or wishes or even candles but I love the fact that I spent it wandering, walking and moving. It was like a short version of how I want my life to go like or at least the upcoming few years of my life. For I only want my feet to keep moving, I don't want to settle down, or to stop for a breath, I want to have short conversations with people im never sure when I will meet again, walk aimlessly at night and have an ultimate plan of spontaneity and courage so that I treasure the blessing of all the moments , the chances and the unique experiences I would go through. My birthday started like any other earth day at 12am, I was sitting on this small cozy coach in that small cozy hostel called “Casablanca” in the beautiful Nagasaki prefecture that I fell in love with, in my beloved japan with that one unique friend who I have always been blessed to spend my little adventures with, we were sitting there trying to get our ideas across to that nice Korean stranger who could barely speak English but despite this he just broke all barriers known between strangers by a simple wave and a friendly smile and I would always feel grateful to those who find it easy to cross the fences people surround themselves by, to the ones who can initiate a conversation while waiting for the bus, or who can simply express how that color looks good on you just because they think so. to those who simply approach even if they are afraid because they know that a sweet moment of a true connection between humans is worth crossing the fear and the reservations we all have. That guy offered us ice cream and a nice late night conversation that we were simply delighted to have, a few moments later another Romanian guy decided to join and the little terrified introvert inside of me was surprised at how approachable we humans can be sometimes. That very gentle Romanian man with whom I chatted genuinely after the rest went to sleep simply reminded me of me and all the things im going through here in japan and how I bear them with a similar smile to the one he kept on his face while talking. He was just like me and I wish I told him how similar we are, how kind we both are and how much we want to approach people, to be loved and looked at with care and attention. he reminded me of how much we , -terrified like we are- would try and would be determined to try again when our reservations beat us. he must have treasured those moments when we accepted him and gave him a chance, that must have made his heart happy and has given him hope that it'd be easier one day. Those moments must be a reason that would make him smile for a while maybe even up to this very moment, just like how they made me smile for a while. He was even the same like me in the way he couldn't keep his mouth shut and in how he seemed so smart and so knowledgeable of so much, I know my friend how you know all of that. We spent a lot of time alone, we read, we go to places, we explore and we treasure all our surroundings and know a lot of things so well, we memorize names by heart and can debate and win in whatever. And we know for a fact we have a lot inside of us, so much that can blow minds and dazzle souls. He probably knows the whole historical time line of world war 2, can recite a whole poem to his one favorite poet and knows beautiful quotes from an underestimated novel that he can debate for hours to prove how beautiful it is. It was so entertaining, surprising and relieving to meet someone this similar to me that I could complete his own words and read his looks when he was talking about our common failure of constantly being alone no matter how hard we try. But it is just those moments of kindness and love when people open their hearts and let us stand out for a short time. Thats simply what I did to that kind gentle guy and that's what I wish people would do to me. In the morning me, my friend and her gentle Japanese friend were getting ready to leave Nagasaki and go back to kumamto where we would leave that lovely part of japan and go back to Tokyo that turned to be ...well , not japan ..not all japan at least and as a gesture of kindness my friends decided to take that nice Romanian guy with us in the car since we were going the same way and as expected of kindness and spontaneity that I knew he has his share of, the nice guy bought me cakes once he knew it's my birthday, one gesture I had this feeling that he would do, and I would do because that's how spontaneous we can both get when people make us feel welcome enough to show our kindness and our love. My birthday and the day after were just an ongoing sweet pain caused by that one thing that I had never and probably will never be able to handle, letting go, I have always been a childish clingy little girl. Im clingy to places, to people and to precious time. and I have the hardest time ever letting go because eventually we all have to let go, we cant stop time for that magical conversation or for that one amazing place or that incredible person. We need to let go and keep moving because simply this is what living life is all about. My words seem too deep to be describing letting go of the effect of a five-day trip not a lifetime but those little times are the worst because they expose how deeply attached we can get to temporary happiness and also because short times won't affect anyone we all can keep moving forward and never see each other again without feeling any kind of pain and that's truly the most painful thing . The fact that we have no excuse to get attached not even our feelings. Maybe it wasn't a coincidence how I had to walk alone in my university campus all the way to my room on that day after saying goodbye to my friend who had to go back to her home and to her life maybe it was a reminder on the very next day of the new year of my life that letting go, moving forward and bearing all that pain will be for sure the highlight of this very special year of my life that I'm spending here in japan like a dream. I know that I will have to walk alone again with my bags and my little broken heart one day that I wish would be far, further than what the calendar says .I will walk alone saying goodbye to my life here, the people I met, the moments I lived, and the luxury of being alone that can be irritating sometimes but I know I will miss and need when I get back to my annoyingly warm noisy home. So now I know the kind of burdens im carrying over my little shoulders and how I was reminded by them on the very beginning of my 21st year of life, through that walk to my empty quiet room. All I have now is a few wishes and a lot of love and gratefulness. I wish this year becomes gentle through the moments when I will have to face my one fear of letting go. I only feel love towards japan, my life, my loneliness and the way my heart could beat strongly for the first time (thank you❤️) and I'm always grateful to how life grants me moments of happiness, people of pure hearts and true feelings that make me feel alive.

[softplacepod]

Episode 4: Mistakes and Monsters

Show notes & transcript below the cut.

SHOW NOTES:

Seventy Years of Sleep - https://cardiamachina.co.vu/tagged/seventy%20years%20of%20sleep

Critical Role - https://critrole.com/

“No One is Alone” - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5xaxP_kErTU

TRANSCRIPT:

EP 4: MISTAKES AND MONSTERS

Hello, bees. It's me, Sara, sending you light and love, and also a bunch of things I've been super into lately that I think might be your jam. Welcome to A Soft Place to Land.

Item the first: We deserve a soft epilogue, my love

Or, my Bucky Barnes problem

Everyone who knows me just groaned a little bit at that subtitle. If I’ve talked to you too much about anything, ever, it’s probably either Leverage or Bucky Barnes slash the Winter Soldier from the Marvel universe. Some of you may assume it springs from my decade-long angry crush on Sebastian Stan, who plays him in the movies, and that certainly didn’t help. But the real problem is that Bucky Barnes fits into the mold almost perfectly of “fictional characters to whom Sara will get overly attached very quickly.” Naomi Nagata from The Expanse. Donna Noble from Doctor Who. Duck Newton from The Adventure Zone: Amnesty. Bigwig from Watership Down. A million others.

For me, there is something very meaningful about a character with whom you initially click. You start a piece of fiction and something in you just resonates. It also, to be honest, sometimes makes engaging with fiction difficult. I want Bucky to be happy. I want Donna to be happy. I want my precious babies to be happy and I don’t want anyone or anything to hurt them ever again. I haven’t rewatched Captain America: Civil War in a long time, because I don’t want to watch what that movie show what it knows about Bucky, and I don’t want to watch what it chooses to do about it, and it’s not even that I’m mad about as that I don’t want to see it again.

There’s a poem that makes the rounds on Tumblr and in fandom circles often. That it comes from Seventy Years of Sleep, a fan-written poetry cycle about Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes is, I think, less well known, but makes it mean more, honestly, to me. The bit I’m thinking of goes,

I think we deserve

A soft epilogue, my love.

We are good people

And we’ve suffered enough.

And that’s what I want for my faves: a soft epilogue, loosed from their suffering. A time and a place to heal, to learn to live with the pain they have caused, and the harm they have done, and to find the next right thing to do.

Item the second: Venom in your veins

Or, I promise I’m not going to talk about Critical Role too much

It’s just that I have been rewatching the show during this time, and it’s been hitting me especially hard. It’s voice actors who play D&D together, basically. If you are an anime, video game, or internet person, you’ve almost certainly heard one or more of these voice actors in things. And if you’re a tabletop role-playing game person, you’ve almost certainly heard of the D&D game they play on the internet. And that’s all great, I’m happy to hit you up to explain the appeal, or to advise you where in the first campaign to start watching (it’s later than you think!). But lately I’ve been stuck on a line, a particular line, spoken in a particular way by a particular character. I’m struggling to give a little context without spoiling anything, so I’ll say: this speech, which I’m about to read to you, is by a character who has done horrible, horrible things in their past. They were manipulated into the choosing, but they still chose, and they believe without question that the choices they made have doomed them. They will never be forgiven, and they will never deserve forgiveness. Or at least, that’s what they believe - their friends have different beliefs. But anyway, this character is talking to another, who has recently come to light as having also made choices that, in the choosing, may have damned them forever to be unforgivable. And here’s the speech. It’s short, I promise, and I’ve cut out one instance where the speaker says the listener’s name. Okay.

You listen to me. I know what you are talking about. I know. And the difference between you and I, is thinner than a razor. I know what it means to have other people complicate your desires and wishes. And I was like you, was. I know what a fool I have been for years. And I am looking at him as if I am looking in a mirror. You didn’t account for us–good. That is life. Shit hits you sideways in life, and no one is prepared, no one is ready. These people…changed me. These people can change you. You were not born with venom in your veins. You learned it. You learned it. You have a rare opportunity here. One chance–to save yourself. And we are offering it. And I am pleading with you. To find your better self–he is still there. Maybe you and I are both damned. But we can choose to do something, and leave it better than it was before.

It’s important, I think, to note that “you were not born with venom in your veins” is in iambic pentameter, which always tickles the back of my mind when I hear it even if I don’t know why, thanks, theater. And it’s important to note, too, that this is an improvised show by voice actors, and that the character speaking is played by someone with a heavy background in theater, and that when the actor said that line as the character I personally burst into tears and then yelled about it for like fifteen minutes to a friend who’s also a big Critical Role fan and was also crying.

Item the third: it was learned

Or, all my faves are the same person for a reason

So, okay. This is getting a little heavier than I expected, but we’ve got one more place to look before we step back out into the sunlight. Me.

Hi, I’m Sara. Once upon a time, I was a person with a set of core, sturdy beliefs. They made me who I was. Every decision I made was based on them. Every action I took, every ripple I made, came from this core set of beliefs. And acting off of those beliefs, in the ways I was taught and shown, hurt people. I hurt people.

I was condescending and cruel, vicious, self-righteous. I insisted everyone live up to an example, and when they didn’t, I wrote them off as failures. I believed so hard and so loud and so much that everyone who didn’t believe the same rang as a liar or a bad person to me. I spent, let’s say, fifteen or sixteen years soaked in and taught and shown that belief, and then, in the space of about a year, it was ripped out of me.

Over the next couple of years, I began to collapse, slow but sure, as the cornerstone and entirety of the person I was dissolved away. When you are built around a belief, and then you don’t believe it anymore, and it’s gone - who the hell are you? Who do you become?

When you realize, as you’re terrified and grieving, as you’re brokenly trying to assemble shards into something like a person, that you hurt people before, when you were acting out of your belief, what do you do? How do you make amends? How to reckon with the pain you caused, and your at the time sincere belief that the pain was right and good, justified, that you were doing the right thing? That you did something terrible, many terrible somethings, out of intentions that were sincere and deeply held? That the people who taught you those beliefs, that the people who encouraged them, still hold those beliefs, and may or may not ever realize how deeply you held them, too, and how the damage you have done sprang so strongly from that core? How do you make friends now? How do you deserve them? How do you live with the things you’ve done and said, the chances you were given and ignored, the thousands of ways you could have seen the pain you were causing and just…stopped?  And you didn’t?

There’s a reason Bucky Barnes is my favorite fictional character.

Item the final: No one is alone

Or, one another’s terrible mistakes

Into the Woods has been an odd sort of touchstone in my life. In high school speech class, reading through a huge filing cabinet full of scripts to chop into monologues and duets, I stumbled over it. I don’t know why it was in there, it’s a musical, and there wasn’t, at the time, a musical theatre program in my school. It didn’t, I don’t think, have the musical notation in with it, not that I can read music well enough to have done anything if it was there. But I, having grown up with fractured fairy tales, kept reading, and got to the lyrics for the song “No One is Alone.” It comes towards the end: two adults talking to two children about loss, and grief, and the ways they can shape our vision. In this little song, there are so many connected ideas about how fear and sadness and hurt can make us forget who we are. That everyone makes mistakes, that no single person has a handle on what’s right or good. That every choice has a consequence, and that every consequence leads to another choice. That our moralities are constructed around our histories and our choices. That most people are, most of the time, just trying to get through the world with the people they love. Witches and giants aren’t the enemy: the pain we cause out of our own pain is the enemy. It can be, in these times, in our interconnected world, so hard to choose. So hard to choose kindness over retaliation, so hard to choose justice over comfort, so hard to choose action over silence. And it can feel so alone. You, standing under a giant’s shadow, choosing to listen to what the giant is saying before you strike it down. You, staring a witch in the face, choosing to understand the decisions she made that led her here. You, looking into your own heart, seeing how every mistake you’ve made and hurt you’ve endured has built you. Your pain, our pain, makes us, in some ways. It tries to tell us what’s right and what’s wrong, but we still get to decide if we agree. No one is alone - not us, not you, not the people who are not on your side. And so, the song insists, since none of us are alone, we can shape the effects of our mistakes. We can make better mistakes. We decide what’s right. We decide what’s good.

[music]

Theme music for A Soft Place to Land is “Repose,” by Chase Miller, off his album Burnout. Chase’s music can be found at chasemiller.bandcamp.com. Show notes and episode transcripts are at softplacepod.tumblr.com. You can find me on Twitter @cyranoh_ and you can listen to me jabber on as the foil to my very good friend Anna on our parenting podcast, The Parent Rap, at parentrap.net.

I love you very much. Take care of yourselves. See you soon.

[iuniverseblog]

Lumarvens Alexander’s “500 Stanzas of Motivation and Inspiration”

Lumarvens Alexander tells us about 500 Stanzas of Motivation and Inspiration, his exciting new release.

  Please briefly describe your book . . .

My book, 500 Stanzas of Motivation and Inspiration, is one of my first and greatest projects ever. I started writing poems down over a period of four years. I’ve been on and off with it and was not too sure if it would’ve really been out there, but I had strong hope. This book outlines a lot of things, some of which is between the lines, but easy to catch on to.

The poems and stories I write, are not only my experiences. I communicate a lot with individuals and our conversations sometimes reach on deep levels, but I always try to compare similarities to myself and other people. I’m able to combine mutual thoughts, feelings and realities into one piece of work so that everyone can picture themselves between the words. That’s what I strive for.

I want when readers read my work to get a feeling as if they wrote it, or someone has written their story. The underlying goal is just for people to have fun reading my book, the same way I had fun writing it. I put a lot of emphasis on motivation and inspiration because I’m centered on growth, but a part of growth is fun and happiness, I just love to entertain and I’m open to necessary feedback. Have some fun with my work and get in contact with me if you ever feel the need to.

  And can you tell us a little about yourself?

Being given a beautiful unique name like Lumarvens, it’s only right that I add a definition and meaning to it. I was born different, I always felt like an outsider growing up, but I never cease looking to find answers to my existence and I made sure to have a lot of fun along the way. Having gone through the things I been through, I can proudly say that the struggle made me stronger and wiser. My background is so diverse, I done lived many lives, performed many good deeds, learned a lot of lessons and gained a lot of life experience. These are the things that make me unique. I don’t try to compete; I create and promote individuality, I’m just content with the person I am and becoming.

  Do you have any particular literary influences? What inspired you to write your book?

One of the main influences behind this book is William Shakespeare. I enjoy reading and listening to the Sonnets. The words expressed in that piece of work resonates with me on a level I don’t understand yet. This is what really inspired me to write this book. This book I can say was an attempt to recreate the Sonnets in my own personal way, theme and style.

I’ve also been influenced by music and hip-hop culture. One of my favorite artists, whom I’ve studied and observed deeply is Lil’ Wayne, I’m also an admirer of Slick Rick and Andre 3000. I enjoy rhymes, near rhymes, word play, flow, lyrical techniques and the art of storytelling.

None of these would have been useful if I hadn’t had a solid foundation in schooling as a youth – attending a religiously influenced school which prides good and teaches virtues. The school housed ‘A beka books’, which I explored and enjoyed as a youth. I strongly recommend that book system. That’s as far as my influences go.

  What is the one message you would like to convey to your readers?

I just want everyone to understand that writing isn’t all that hard, and if you’re a reader, you should try writing something. I love writing, it has done so much for me and I’m sure it can do the same for many people. You don’t have to share your work or show others if you don’t want to, but you will find gratification in just writing things down.

When I started out, I used to write just for fun. I create spur of the moment poems, give it away to someone who enjoys it and forget about it. What brought me joy is knowing that I can just put a few words together and it means something bigger to someone else. Writing can be used as therapy, or at times when you have things on your chest and no one to talk to, the moment you write it down, you get a sense as if a burden has been lifted off your shoulders.

You can discover who you are and recreate yourself through writing. You can inspire yourself, find your purpose, achieve your destiny and so much more. That’s why I always encourage people to don’t stress and think too much. Write your thoughts down – it will help to unclutter your mind to really assess the situation. Most people would tell you that it’s important to write down your goals. Your goal commences and takes form the moment you write it down, comparable to a sperm meeting an egg. So much can be said about writing. Try it out more!

  Are you working on a sequel to 500 Stanzas of Motivation and Inspiration?

I wanted to have a sequel, but considering this is my first book, I’m going to let this stand on its own. I will be producing more material in the upcoming future, some maybe similar to this one, but for now this is the highlight.

  Are there any events, marketing ideas, or promotions planned for your book?

Yes, Facebook promotions, video promotions and other social media outlets. I’m going to get in contact with TV News networks, talk shows and newspaper promotion. I’m going to have book fairs encouraging folks to start writing and alongside promote my book. I’m currently working on producing audio for this book, stay tuned for that. Promotion will also be facilitated in the traditional way of word of mouth as well.

  What was your favorite part of your publishing experience, overall and with iUniverse?

My favorite part of this iUniverse publishing experience is receiving phone calls. The phone calls to me, meant progress. The operators I can personally say, have a remarkable customer service and communication ethic. Also, they take their time to understand what it is that you need, where you’re at currently, how they can assist you, and they are open to your questions or concerns. I haven’t been disappointed.

  Finally, what advice would you give to aspiring authors?

For any aspiring author, the advice I would give is just not to get too worked up on publishing. It gets intimidating; fear and doubt creep in and you start wondering that maybe your writing isn’t all that good anyway. Take it easy on yourself, once your work means something to you and you develop a passion towards it, people cannot help but to like it because you do, that’s what matters.

I wouldn’t recommend you showing your work to your friends and family until everything is ready, finalized and you’re confident enough in publishing. People who are close to you criticize you more and hold many biases. A stranger can help, a librarian can help, an old teacher or religious expert can help. Be open to judgements, but not affected by them; all feedback is necessary.

Try not to rush anything, you need the patience. With passing time, the entire idea of your project can evolve into something you never thought you could have done, you’ll gain more experience and become your own critic in applying necessary corrections and improvements. Practice every day, write other things unrelated to your work and share to get reactions. All this helps. That’s the most I can say.

  Make sure to check out the iUniverse site for more advice and blogs, as well as iUniverse Facebook and iUniverse Twitter. For a FREE Publishing Guide, click here!

  The post Lumarvens Alexander’s “500 Stanzas of Motivation and Inspiration” appeared first on iUniverse Blog.