#but nobody would get it..or be excited about them.......because they only exist in my head!!

[bonelesshorror]

when you say you're healing but all the retrogrades hit you at once and then you realise you're still deeply flawed

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

more of jessie lying wetly

chapter one

chapter two

cool art by @hamandeggbun

and brand new shiny chapter three. on god I am not allowed to post another one until I finish writing chapter ten.

The interior decor of One-Eyed Polly’s had changed precious little since the last time Jessie saw it, although the floors were a little more scratched up and the felt on the pool table had acquired some upsetting new stains. The only thing that had changed was the enormous NO SMOKING sign on the back wall, right where everyone could see it. 

The second she stepped inside of the bar the universe conspired to give her the entrance of a stranger blowing into town in an old Western, with the jukebox pausing between songs and conversation hitting a lull just as she stepped on a creaky floorboard, drawing all eyes to herself. She flashed an ice cold Frostbite smile, tossed her hair, and wished desperately that she’d worn her costume. It would make her look like a total douchebag, sure, but it would also remind everyone she was dangerous.  

Jessie strode back to the bar like it was a catwalk anyway, but the whispers and mutters that followed her were not promising.

“Still owes me twenty dollars.”

“Did I tell you she blocked me?”

“I thought she got arrested.”

“What did Sub-Zero say?”

Okay. Okay. Not awesome, but it was fine. They could say anything they wanted about her, but how many of these washouts and wannabes would actually try anything? None of them. They didn’t know that she was unarmed and floundering without her brother. She hadn’t worn her costume because she didn’t need to; her reputation was still strong enough to protect her. Not to mention she wanted all of these dweebs to see her wearing jeans that cost more than their mortgage payments and choke on the jealousy.

Maudie was behind the bar, grayer and butcher than ever. Her face was lined now, enough that it gave Jessie pause. Was her godmother getting old now? When did that happen?

Not that Maud was letting it soften her up at all. She raised a bushy brow at Jessie by way of greeting and launched right into putting her through the wringer. “Well, well. Look at that. A real-deal supervillain graces us with her presence. Thank you for deigning to descend from the gravy train, your highness.” 

“Aww, Maudie, come on. Don’t be like that, it’s my birthday.”

“As if I don’t know. Did you get your card?”

“Did you send one?”

Maud rolled her eyes, hard. “Of course I sent one. What kind of schmuck do you take me for?”

Of course she wouldn’t know; Jessie hadn’t checked her mailbox in at least a week. 

She realized, with despair, that there were tears crowding up around the edges of her eyes, little pinpricks begging to be let loose. When had she gotten so sappy? She wasn’t even most excited about the crisp fifty dollar bill that Maudie always tucked inside of her cards, although that was a relief. It was mostly that someone had even remembered she existed and wanted to do something nice for her that was really turning her into goo. 

“Well, I appreciate it,” she said, choking down her onslaught of emotions. Maudie would hate her making a scene like that; she never knew what to do when people cried. “But, hey, I’m not here to talk about me. How are you doing? Are you feeling alright?”

“The hell do you mean, do I feel alright?”

“Well, you always said that you’d only make people stop smoking in here over your dead body. And now nobody’s smoking, so I figure you must have gotten real close to having a dead body.”

Maudie snorted. “We had a scare last year. Doctor thought he had something, turned out not to be serious. But you know how the dames are. Next thing I know, nobody’s allowed to smoke in here and I’m getting yelled at if I don’t eat vegetables and go for a fuckin’ walking every morning.”

She shook her head, fondly exasperated. The dames were the two iron-tongued femmes Maudie had been in a relationship with for decades, largely considered to be the real masterminds behind One-Eyed Polly’s. According to Maudie, they only kept her around to look pretty and serve the drinks.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Jessie demanded. “We could have helped with the bills, or I could have brought over soup. Something.”

“I didn’t want to bother you, kid. Your brother made it pretty clear that you were busy.” And then, before Jessie could apologize or otherwise risk making things sentimental, Maudie cleared her throat sharply. “You want a drink, or what? First round’s free for the birthday girl.”

“Yeah? Let’s do a straight whiskey and a burger,” Jessie said, knowing damn well that she’d be drinking nothing but dirt cheap beer for the rest of the night. “Do the fries still come with that, or is it extra?”

“It’ll be a cold day in hell when I charge people extra for a side of fries. That shit comes with the burger,” Maud said gravely.

There were a lot of things that could stand to be improved about One-Eyed Polly’s, but the food was not one of them. So what if the fry cook telepathically talked with rats? He could work a grill. The basket that arrived in front of Jessie contained a beautifully constructed medium rare burger packing the exact correct amount of grease, surrounded by steak fries that had been seasoned to absolute perfection. Pardon Jessie while she drooled a little bit. 

“Hey, Maudie,” she said, half a burger later. “You still have Joney’s van?”

Her godmother raised an eyebrow a fraction of an inch, which for Maud was an expression of profound skepticism. “I’d love to know how the hell you think I could’ve lost it.”

“No no, that’s not what I meant. I just wanted to see if I could grab it from you.”

“Can’t get your car back from Voltzz, huh?”

“Hmm?” Jessie asked, playing dumb.

“Do not try the bimbo act on me, Jessica Jolene. You know damn well what I’m talking about.”

“God. How did you even hear about that?”

“Are you kidding? I hear about everything in here. We had a bunch of schlubs in here doing shots at noon because they thought Ricochet dragged you off for good.”

“Okay, tacky.” Jessie licked her lips, her mouth suddenly feeling extremely dry despite an abundance of gloss. “Maudie, can I ask you a question? It seems like I’m maybe, um, not very popular around here.”

Maud stared her down with eyes like chisels. “That’s not a question.”

“You know what I mean!”

“I don’t know what to tell you, kiddo. They hate your guts.”

“Maudie!”

Jessie’s complaining was cut short by a sweaty, nervous-looking man appearing from the kitchen and hurrying to Maudie’s side. He shot Jessie a look that could really only be described as distrustful, then leaned in close to deliver his message to Maud. She shrugged him away almost before he finished speaking, peeved by his damp proximity.

“So get her shift covered. Why do you need my permission for that? Call Billy. Or, hell, see if Tash can make it in. She’s always dying for extra shifts. Tell Jordan I’ll come sort her out in a minute and then get your ass back out here to cover the bar. The dishes can wait.”

Maudie sighed and turned back to Jessie as her dishwasher departed, shaking her head. She suddenly looked about a hundred years old. “Kid, I miss the days when the worst I had to deal with was bartenders coming in drunk.”

“What happened?”

“One of my girls, Jordan. She’s got that fucking, what do they call it? Void pox? She kept going see-through when she came in but she swore she’d be fine. Except she’s not fine, she started getting these little cartoon demons popping out of her head. Pretty harmless, only about this big, but if I never have to kill another one with a broom it’ll be too soon. Anyway, I had her sitting down in the back, but now she’s starting to make things levitate and I can’t have that. I need to find her a ride home.”

“Could I come see her?” Jessie asked with, in hindsight, way too much enthusiasm.

Her godmother hit her with a look that was genuinely withering. “You can keep your ass right here and be nice to Nikesh while he tends the bar. And you can leave Jordan alone. It’s a 24-hour bug, she’ll be back to normal tomorrow.”

“I know that!”

“So drop it, then! For once in your life, don’t get so pushy about this superhero shit.”

Maud ducked back into the kitchen on that deeply unencouraging note, sending poor Nikesh back out to hold down the bar in her stead. He studiously avoided Jessie’s gaze when she asked him how his night was going, spitting out single syllable answers until she gave up and asked for a hard cider, which he provided without once actually turning his face in her direction. Jessie dropped a five in the tip jar anyway, because she believed very firmly that you were supposed to tip generously unless the waiter had purposefully set you on fire and maybe even then. Running through the last of your money in the entire world was no excuse to be a lousy customer.

The problem being, of course, that she had hoped this would be a case of spending money to make money. She’d shell out a little for a night at One-Eyed Polly’s, reestablish herself as a villain of the people, and announce that she was hiring to thunderous applause. Henchpeople out the door, heaps of cash secured, the money that she’d pissed away on bottom shelf booze now a worthwhile investment. 

Unfortunately, all of that had depended on there being someone, anyone, left in town who didn’t hate her guts.

“Hey, Nikesh? Do you like working here?”

“It’s a living,” he said, still looking down. 

“If I offered to pay you, like, five times what you’re making right now, would you work for me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Ten times?” 

He actually looked at her for a fleeting second, his gaze touching off hers for just a moment. Jessie was vomitously aware that there was something that looked a lot like pity in his face. “Look, lady. It’s not about the money. It’s about not wanting to get my ass kicked.”

“Jesus Christ. Am I really that bad for business?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Is that why you won’t even look at me?”

“Yeah. You understand. Can’t look like we’re getting friendly.”

“Respect. You gotta look out for number one, Nikesh. I can throw a drink on you, if you want.”

“Yeah? That might be good, actually. We could make people think I said something really nasty to you. That could actually be great for my rep.”

Jessie groaned, resting her face in her hands. This was going to be an absolute non-starter. Polly’s was the biggest rat-hole in town; everyone knew that this was a place where people would turn a blind eye to almost anything. Everyone put aside their beef here, because the place would never function if they didn’t and no one wanted to be the asshole who ruined the only functioning villain bar in town. If a bartender was too scared to even look at her directly, Jessie’s reputation must be worse than dirt.

Why? Because of last night’s embarrassing little tantrum? Couldn’t be it. Nobody complained about the time Voltzz snorted bath salts and went on a rampage, or when Incinerator got drunk and started taking potshots at cop cars. Hell, if anything they’d both gotten more popular after that. Jonas might sneer at the lack of precision and control, but Jessie had tried to tell him a thousand times that people liked to see a supervillain go a little off the rails. It was aspirational, right? It let people imagine what they might do, if they had the power to really cut loose.

Why was she different? Sure, people hated to see a woman having fun, but that couldn’t possibly explain all of it. Maudie could probably explain it, whenever she finished mopping up the poor sap with the void pox. Maudie heard about everything. 

In the meantime, she might as well try to make the most of her evening. If she wasn’t going to be making new friends, she could at least have a little fun. Who cared about her bank account? If she was screwed, she might as well go out with a splash. 

“Nikesh? Open me up a tab. It’s my birthday and I want shots.”

***

Jessie Chilton was not a lightweight. Despite spending most of her early life watching her father get eaten alive by booze she had an exceedingly friendly relationship with alcohol, and could usually hold her drinks pretty well. Jonas had never touched the stuff, erring hard on the side of caution, but Jessie knew that she could stop any time she wanted.

Her miserable 26th birthday was not that time. That night she drank like the world was going to end, because it very possibly was. Her world, at least, and what else was she supposed to worry about? She knew damn well the scope of what she could be held responsible for, and presently it was mostly downing as much tequila as she could.

Which meant she ended up in the bathroom, eventually, because all of that liquid had to go somewhere, and in the time-honored tradition of wasted girls everywhere she got weird about it. While Jessie sat in the cramped and questionably-lit stall she started thinking about how she’d very nearly been born in this very room and what a miserably inauspicious start that was, and how perhaps she should have known that her life was always doomed to go down the toilet despite a decade or so of delusionally believing that she might be meant for something better. She wished that she had some friends to cry to, and briefly regretted the loss of Whirligig. Getting sloppy drunk and crying in club bathrooms together had been about the only thing that friendship was good for, but sometimes that was all she needed it to be. 

In the absence of anywhere else to turn Jessie called the person who had almost always been there for her, until he spectacularly wasn’t.

Hey, Joney. It’s your favorite sister. And I know what you’re thinking: ‘Jessie, you’re my only sister, why are you doing exposition like a lunatic?’ Well, it’s because you haven’t been acting like I’m your favorite sister lately, or like you even know me, so I figured maybe you needed the reminder.

Did you even notice it’s my birthday? You’ve never forgotten it in my entire life. But you know who remembered? Uncle Ray. And Maud. And that’s fucking it. And Ricochet was soooOOOOOOoooo mean to me this morning. Like, you wouldn’t believe. She’s getting way too cocky, if you ask me. You should come back and kick her ass into orbit. Remind her who’s boss around here.

You should come back in general, actually. I miss you. But I’m also mad at you. It’s, like, a real dick move to take off and not even leave me with any money. I mean, I had money. Past-tense. But it’s gone now. I could have, like, I could have definitely spent it better. Smarter? I got these really stupid expensive boots with real crystals on them and then when I tried to return them they said I couldn’t because there was a scuff on the toe, which is like… whatever. I’m wearing them right now even though they’re way too fancy for Polly’s. Might as well get my money’s worth.

But I also just don’t have anything. Like, where’s the bank account? Where is the bank account, Jonas? I earned half that money, so why can’t I… I mean, you literally never told me how to get into it. To my money. Which I guess in hindsight was, like, I should have had a problem with that way sooner, but you made it sound extremely reasonable! And now I’m this close to Uncle Ray throwing me out on my ass, because I couldn’t pay the May rent and I can’t pay the June rent, either, at the rate things are going. I opened a tab at Polly’s and I don’t have enough to pay it, so now Maudie’s going to be mad at me, I think. I don’t know, I’m not even actually sure how a tab works. Isn't that stupid? I'm, like, so mad at myself lately got how much stuff I don't know.

Everybody’s mad at me.

And you won’t even call me back, and I can’t even afford toilet paper, so that’s, like, a lot. And I’m not handling it well. And I’m drank as a skank at Polly’s, in case you couldn’t tell, so go ahead and get your panties twisted up about that. I’m fucking spiraling, buddy. I’m in my fucking up era out here.

So. You should come home.

Or at least tell me where you are or what you’re doing or why you left, okay? Because I hate no knowing that. We’re supposed to tell each other things. And I’m scared about what’s going to happen if you’re gone much longer because, like, everything is going wrong. And I think you might have really left me screwed here, okay? Which is crazy, because it was supposed to be you and me against the world, but I’m not fucking seeing it right now. 

By this point Jessie was crying and snotting pretty hard, absorbed enough in her own agonies that she didn’t realize she wasn’t alone in the bathroom until someone rapped lightly on the door of her stall and almost scared her shitless.

“Hey. You okay in there?”

It was not the voice of someone particularly warm and fuzzy or confident about checking in on a stranger, which actually made it a little sweeter that they’d bothered.

“I’m fine,” Jessie lied, wetly. “I’m just, like, I’m on the phone.”

“Yeah, I can hear that.” Whoever they were, they were sorely tempted to leave it at that and go back to minding their own business. Jessie could tell. Outside the stall, a pair of tennis shoes that had been worn damn near to dust rocked back and forth, weighing the options. “I just wanted to say that they’re not worth it. Whoever’s making you feel this bad, you shouldn't waste your time on them.”

“Okay,” Jessie said. And then, into the message she was still leaving for her brother: “I have to go, a nice girl in this bathroom says you’re not worth it. Please call me, love you, bye.”

“Great,” the stranger said dryly. “Crushed it.” Their beaten-in shoes scuffed away, back over to the sinks. Had Jessie missed an entire other person pissing next to her? God, that was embarrassing.

She wadded up some genuinely horrific single ply toilet paper and dabbed at her face, hoping she didn’t look too atrocious. All of her makeup was waterproof, which had to count for something. “Hey, thank you for that. I really needed someone to snap me out of it. I was being so pathetic.”

“Whatever,” said the voice by the sinks. “Don’t beat yourself up. I’ve been there, I get it.”

Jessie’s heart was getting squeezed around like one of those awful tubes full of goo and glitter and little plastic animals, the kind that everyone used to make jerk off motions. Who was this? Would they still be so nice to her if they knew who she was? What were the odds she could salvage a single actual friend out of this wretched garbage fire of a day? It didn’t even have to be a lifelong bestie, just someone she could have a few drinks with. 

“My name is Jessie,” she said hesitantly.

She heard her new friend sigh. “I’m Tash.”

“Do you come here often? I’m not asking that in the pervert way, I’m just curious if you’re, like, a regular.”

“I work here,” Tash said, with as much contempt as anyone had ever had for their workplace.

“Oh. Do you like it?”

“Sucks shit. But, you know. You do what you’ve got to do.” She cleared her throat awkwardly. “Are you okay in there? I’m gonna get my ass reamed if I let somebody drown in the toilet.”

“No, I’m okay. I’m just, you know.” Which was a fucking nothing explanation, but Jessie’s voice was still damp and wavering enough that it presumably got the point across. “I need a moment to get it together.”

“I hear that,” Tash said. “I usually use the walk-in when I need a second.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. It’s not very big, but it’s quiet. And the cold kind of helps pull me together, I guess. Stay focused.” She cleared her throat again. “Sorry to dump that on you.”

“No, that’s okay. It makes sense,” said Jessie, noted cold enjoyer. “Do you keep anything fun in there? Maud’s never let me see it.”

“You know Maud?”

“Yeah, since I was a kid. Isn’t she the best?”

“She’s a real son of a bitch. But she's the only boss I’ve ever believed when she says she gives a shit about me, though.”

“Sounds like Maudie,” Jessie agreed fondly. “Anyway, what’s in the walk-in?”

“Fucking nothing exciting. Burger patties, mostly. I don’t know. Like I said, not a lot of room.”

“Plenty of room for you.”

“Yeah, every time I have a total breakdown at work.”

“Does that happen a lot? No judgment, obviously. Pot .”

“I don’t know.” Tash sighed. “More often than you’d hope. Which is never, obviously. We don’t have to talk about this.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“What?”

���Your favorite color,” Jessie insisted. “I love asking people that. Nobody ever cares after you turn, like, twelve, right? But I care. And it’s a lot more chill than talking about, you know. Our favorite places to completely freak out in a shithole bar.”

“Okay. Sure,” Tash said. Everything about the strain in her voice suggested she was not naturally inclined towards whimsy, but at least she was making the effort to play along. “Will you assume I have clinical depression if I say gray?”

“Yes.”

“Well, joke’s on me, because I love gray and I do have clinical depression. But purple is also good. I like purple.”

“What shade? Eggplant? Periwinkle?”

“Just a nice, medium purple, I guess. Like, the platonic ideal of purple.”

Jessie had no idea what a platonic ideal was or why anyone would ever need to specify that they weren't trying to have sex with a color, but she was sitting on her stupid little toilet nodding like an idiot anyway because it felt so good to be making a connection with someone. “I dig that. Purple is good.”

“What about you?”

“Oh, cerulean for sure. With sparkles, ideally.”

“That’s blue, right?”

“Yeah. My jacket is actually, like, that exact color, I can show you.” Jessie sniffled tremendously, getting shakily to her feet and pleased to discover that she was feeling much more sober than when she’d wandered into the bathroom some time ago. And now look at her! Practically having a whole meet cute. What a turn around on the evening. “Okay, I’m coming out now. Don’t gag if my makeup’s a mess, I’m going to fix it.”

She tossed her hair and stepped out of the stall, at which point several things happened to her in rapid succession.

Tash was standing underneath one of the humming, flickering lights that barely managed to illuminate the dark cave of the ladies’ room. She struck a slim figure, drowning in a huge hoodie with two skinny black-clad legs sticking out like a cartoon character. She was wiping down the sinks but turned as Jessie emerged, the fuzzy light illuminating her from the back like a bargain bin halo.

The first thing Jessie noticed was that Tash was a lot shorter than she had been expecting.

The second was that Tash had beautiful eyes. 

The third was that those beautiful eyes and indeed her entire face were curdling up in horror as recognition set in.

“What the fuck,” she said. “Frostbite?”

The recognition and reaction alone weren’t surprising, given the colossal combined levels of notoriety and bad PR Jessie was currently enjoying. The part that nearly knocked her on her ass was that recognized Tash back.

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, overjoyed and utterly failing to read the room. “Night Noir? Holy shit, girlie, I thought you were dead!”

[slashsrealgf]

Rock Star

a/n: ALL THE SONGS MENTIONED ARE STILL HOLE SONGS IM NOT TRYNA STEAL THEM!!!!!!!!!! for the sake of this fic and also my sanity were gonna just pretend like courtney love doesnt exist and that the reader is basically courtney love only not as problematic idk how to describe this...i know i couldve lit just made up a band but im uncreative and i love hole and hole writes the best songs ever and plus it makes sense to me bc i love slash and im also literally a modern courtney love. this is such a weird fic its also shorter than i wanted but whateva

enjoy ★

warnings: none its fluff 🤍

You and Slash had been dating for a while, and you both knew quite a lot about each other, however, there was one thing that Slash didn't know about you.

You were in a band called 'Hole', in fact, it was your band. You loved your band because it was the easiest way for you to express your feelings, especially considering how hard you found expressing them in other ways. You had thought about sharing this with Slash, because you knew he also struggled with expressing his emotions and that he used his guitar to do it, but you weren't sure if he would like the style of your music.

You knew it was ridiculous because Slash loved music and he encouraged everyone to make music in a way that feels true to them. You also knew that even if he didn't like the sound, he would still support you anyway. You still had your doubts though, so you decided not to tell him.

However, that would change tonight.

It was a Saturday and Slash and Duff decided to go out to some bars and get drunk. You were fine with that because you had a gig that night anyway. What you had failed to realise, however, was that your gig was at Whiskey a Go Go. Slash practically lived there.

You and the rest of your band were just finishing setting up, and you had excitement coursing through your veins.

You all walked on and then you spotted Slash's big head of hair in the crowd. You panicked a little, but he wasn't facing the band, he was at the bar talking to Duff. You take a deep breath and pretend he isn't there. You take a step closer to the mic and speak, "this song's about a jerk. I hexed him, now hes losing his hair," then start playing your most popular song, 'Violet'. Unlike most bands, you like to get your most popular songs out of the way first.

As soon as you spoke into the mic, Slash turned his head, instantly recognising your voice. He questions himself, thinking maybe he's just too drunk.

He turns to Duff, "hey, man, does that look like Y/N to you?" Duff looks up at you, "yeah, actually. Sure as hell sounds like her anyways." Slash doesn't reply, instead his entire focus is on you.

Throughout your set, you play your more popular songs, 'Violet', 'Celebrity Skin', 'Doll Parts', 'Petals', some of your more underground songs, 'Babydoll', 'Nobody's Daughter', 'Reasons To Be Beautiful', 'Awful', and even some unreleased songs, 'Over The Edge', 'Dicknail', 'Seasons Of The Witch', 'I'm So High', and 'Beautiful Son'.

Throughout your entire set, Duff had talked nonstop to Slash, clearly not realising that he wasn't listening. He was too mesmerised by your singing and your playing. He had always found female guitarists sexy, and finding out he was dating one excited him.

He admired how you talked to the crowd, how messy yet so well put together your songs were, how your voice could change from soft and sweet to loud and raspy.

In a way, your vocals reminded him of Axl's because of how high and low you could both go. However, he didn't find Axl's vocals angelic like yours. He wanted you to continue playing forever, but he was also so excited to talk to you about your band.

When your set was done, you walked off and Slash pushed and shoved his way through the crowd to get to you. Duff followed behind, not wanting to be left alone.

Slash grabbed your arm and you panicked, but relaxed seeing it was just him. "That was sick as fuck," Duff said, casually. Slash stared down at you before starting to ramble uncontrollably, "Holy shit, Y/N! That was fucking incredible! You sounded absolutely amazing and it was so raspy yet so soft and so loud yet quiet and the way you play and the way you move when you play is just so satisfying! How come you never told me you were in a band!? This is the best thing I've found out about you, and your music is clearly written and sang with such complex emotions and your lyrics are so raw and intense and your songs sound so messy yet put together so well and, and, I just, I'm at a total loss for words, I love you -" He cuts himself off.

Your eyes widen and even Duff turns his head to look at Slash. "What!?" Both you and Duff say at the same time. Slash stays quiet for a second.

"I love you," he repeats.

Duff stares at him like he's crazy. Your eyes soften and you smile, "I love you too," you say. You knew you loved him early in your relationship, but you were too scared to tell him.

He smiles and he grabs your hips, pulling you in for a kiss. You melt into the kiss, smiling against his lips.

He pulls away, clearly too excited to handle. "I'm assuming that wasn't all your songs in that set?" You giggle and shake your head. "Okay, we have to go home right now!" You tilt your head, "what, why?" Slash looks at you with a look as if you were being unreasonable, "because you have to play me every one of your songs! I've got to hear all of them! And how you wrote them, and why you wrote them, and when, and -"

You grab his hands, "okay, okay," you say, giggling at how excited he was, "I'll show you everything, okay?" His eyes light up, "oh my God, my girlfriend's a rockstar, I'm dating a rockstar!" He says, excitedly, as if he wasn't a famous guitarist himself.

Since learning about your band, Slash did everything he could to promote it, especially considering the fact Guns was starting to get more and more famous. He would do things like talking about your band at shows, in interviews, covering some of your songs and even having your band do some openings for Guns. Your band started to get famous too, and occasionally, you and Slash would have your own shows, playing a mix of Hole, Guns, Snakepit and even some songs you had wrote together.

[iloveavatar]

together

neteyam x female!reader

this takes place in the forest before the RDA comes and ruins everything. 😒 however in this story the RDA doesn’t exist just because of how much pain they put me in😋

neteyam remembers every detail when it comes to y/n.

he remembers meeting her. he remembers the look she had on her face when she caught him saying “i’m a mighty fisherman” to himself after successfully catching a fish.

he remembers it all.

one special memory he will forever remember, would be when the two of them finally were able to get their ikrans.

the two of them were ecstatic. they were about 14 years old (making this up bc idk when neteyam got his ikran).

as soon as they were given the “ok” to finally meet their banshee. the two started to sprint down the path to the hallelujah mountains.

neteyam remembers tugging at y/n’s tail as she walked infront of him. he remembers the eye rolls she would constantly give him, as if she wasn’t bursting with excitement as well.

when the two finally made it to where the ikrans were settled down at. they were nervous. obviously.

the entire sully family tagged along to watch neteyam earn his flying partner. they even came to cheer on y/n.

except lo’ak and kiri had a bet on who would be faster in succeeding.

neteyam decided to go first. not because he didn’t have faith if y/n… but because if anything bad we’re to happen, he would want it to happen to him first and not her.

neteyam slowly walked into the area that was surrounded by the multiple different colored banshees.

as he walked some flew away, at first he started to worry he wasn’t ready. until he saw it. one banshee started to stalk up to him and hiss.

it then clicked for neteyam. this one was his.

neteyam was quick on his feet to the point where nobody saw him create the bond with his ikran with how fast he actually was.

the only thing they saw was the ikran calming down and seeing neteyam perched on top of his new animal.

“fly neteyam! the first flight seals the bond!” y/n shouted, finally snapping out of the shock of seeing neteyam succeed so quickly.

the sully family plus y/n watched as neteyam shot his ikran through the air. he was flying so gracefully it seemed as if he’s been flying for years.

a few moments later neteyam landed his ikran near everyone with a proud smile on his face.

he jumped off of his new flying partner and walked towards y/n.

he saw how her tail was twitching with nerves. he saw the slight fear in her eyes.

he sighed as he walked forward to her. ignoring his family’s eyes.

“everything will be fine. we’re all right here for you if anything happens… i’m right here if anything happens” he started off strong but then ended in a whisper.

he placed his forehead on top of hers as she took a deep breath.

“ok. ok. i got this. oh eywa give me strength” she whispered to herself as she started to walk into the den.

she slowly continued through, seeing all of the banshees that were avoiding her.

she started to get discouraged and even more nervous.

‘what if i don’t find my ikran? what if i’m not ready?’ she thought while scanning the area.

then she finally heard a hiss from behind her.

she whipped her head around as her ears perked up. she saw a beautifully colored dark blue ikran with lighter blue spots spreading along its wings.

it would look even more beautiful if it wasn’t hissing at her.

y/n quickly reacted and started to swing the rope she would eventually use to tie to mouth shut.

the ikran went to pounce on her, but she side stepped around the giant creature. the rope twisting around the mouth to prevent being bitten.

although that would be an interesting first impression!

the banshee tried to scream but quickly realized they were prevented from doing so. the creature spread its wings in hopes of getting the na’vi away from it.

however y/n was determined to make this one hers.

while this is all happening neteyam is being held back by his mother. (i’m a firm believer in neteyam being a mommas boy)

he was frightened something was going to happen and he wouldn’t be able to reach her in time.

his eyes went back and forth from her to the ikran and back again.

he was terrified of losing her.

however the feeling of nervousness went away as soon as he saw y/n jump onto the ikran and grab the queue. she reached around her shoulder to grab her braid in order to make the bond.

she was holding herself steady on the ikran by squeezing her thighs around the creatures neck.

everyone watched in anticipation as the bond wad formed and the ikran started to calm down from underneath her.

y/n was stuck panting on top as she was finally able to breathe without worrying.

neteyam let out a gigantic sigh of relief at the sight of y/n succeeding.

“first flight seals the bond! go!” neytiri shouted with a huge smile on her face.

y/n quickly shot into the sky with her new banshee.

neteyam turned around to hop back onto his ikran to catch up to her.

neytiri looked at her eldest son for a second and glanced back towards jake. she held a slight smirk on her face. lo’ak and kiri we’re arguing about the bet they made and how they should’ve included rules. jake was speechless at how fast the two teens were able to bond with their ikrans.

his ego was a little bruised since he took so much longer.

neteyam was gracefully soaring through the mountains trying to catch a glimpse of y/n’s flying figure, except no matter where he looked she was nowhere to be found.

he started to get anxious.

‘what if she fell? what if she couldn’t control her ikran and something happened?”

“y/n!! where are you!” neteyam shouted, his voice full of worry.

“i’m right here you skxawng.” y/n voiced.

neteyam looked above him to see her flying upside down. her hair completely loose in the air. a bright smile upon her face.

she then flew the banshee beside neteyams so they were side by side together.

“isn’t this great! now we can go flying whenever we want!” she excitedly stated.

neteyam held a soft look on his face as he saw her excitement.

she kept rambling about all of the things they could do and all of the places they could now go to. she kept on saying how they could fly to open waters and go swimming, have races, see the stars while being in the air.

he would do all of those things and more if it meant being with her.

for the rest of the night the two kept flying, enjoying each other’s company and the calmness of the cool air.

the two eventually made their way back to the forest, but not without racing first.

long story short… y/n won.

only because neteyam wanted to see her smile longer.

this would forever be one of neteyams best memories of them together.

he knew they would always do things together.

everyone in the forest knew they always do things together. that’s just how it’s always been.

y/n and neteyam together.

always.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PLEASE READ! info for future fic!!

i think i’m gonna make a fic where the reader is already the mate to one of the characters.

i just have no idea who yet.

it could be literally ANYONE from avatar i do not care who!

comment down who you guys want me to write abt please. i need to know.

i love you guys!

~S!

[donutsupremacy]

Victory

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Summary

"A new face had been spotted around the Fortress of Meropide, earning themselves a name by challenging others to a duel, and it was a surprise to see them winning fights left and right. They even challenged you! What a joke! And of course you were going to put them back in their place! After all, only a fool would challenge the duke's [S/O]."

Warnings/Spoilers

Written during 4.6

Gender neutral reader

Reader has a Pyro vision and wields a catalyst

Reader isn't the traveller

Traveller's existence is irrelevant/ not mentioned

Post-Archon Quest Fontaine

Physical fighting (Boxing with elements)

Reader is basically Pyro Wriothesley

Lots and lots of 3rd grader trash talking

Flirting, lots and lots of cringy flirting

Fluff and gotta sprinkle in some tiny bit of angst

TW: Scars (If you're uncomfortable with them)

A/N: Good to be alive again :D (Had an idea to write Albedo fic for his birthday, ended up getting swarmed with homework for the past few months, so after this I'll work on Albedo fic)

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Your romance begins here

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"Is this really worth it?"

"Oh, absolutely." You replied without a single hint of hesitation in your voice when Rousimoff, the Pankration Ring host, questioned.

You eyed the man standing on the opposite side of the ring, his biceps flexing and his Electro vision danging by his belt. This nobody challenged you, and you weren't a coward to put your reputation on the line. Especially with your recent win streak.

Rousimoff scoffed, patting your back, but the amusement and excitement in his eyes was obvious. There hasn't been a more exciting fight since the last time you entered the ring.

"Aren't you supposed to be on arrest or something?" Rousimoff questioned, a doubtful expression on his face.

You let out a 'pfft!', waving your hand dismissively. Sure, you were technically banned from any form of fighting because you may or may not have attacked an inmate who was spreading rumours about you, but they were asking for it! "Arrest, shm-errest. Wrio will understand! Besides... I've got nothing better to do." You retort.

"Just don't make a mess on the ring, alright? Last guy left a huge hole on the floor and the duke gave me an earful for it." Rousimoff sighs, rubbing his temples. It took a while to get that dent fixed, and you were pretty well known to make a mess without realizing.

"Hey, c'mon now." You nudged his shoulders. "You and everyone else get a good show, I get to kick someone to the curb. Fair trade, no?" You laughter sounds, attracting your opponents attention, whose cocky grin met yours.

"All ready?" The host asked, nodding his head to a group of your fellow inmates, some cheering on for you while the other half was rooting for your opponent to break your victory streak.

You stood up from your seat, rolling your shoulders and cracking your fist, your Pyro vision shining as you felt adrenaline pumping through your veins. Lately, you only had enough time to spar with some friends for about a few minutes, this was the first time you were about to have a full-on brawl with some random newbie after months of no action.

This was going to be fun.

. . . . . . . . .

The smell of sweet tea hung in the air as Wriothesley examined the mechanical gauntlets, flexing his fingers and moving his hand slightly to check on the movement limitations. A young man stood in front of his desk, anxious and slightly hunched over, waiting for his client's input.

"Great, seems like everything's back in order." Wriothesley spoke, nodding in approval as he donned his usual grin. "You have my gratitude."

The young man lets out a breath he didn't realize he had been holding in, slouching slightly to relax for a few seconds before standing up. With a polite bow, the young man quickly left the office, giving Wriothesley some privacy.

The Cryo vision wielder sat back down behind his desk, putting away the gauntlets as he picked up the cup of tea, blowing it to cool the liquid down slightly.

The Fortress of Meropide seemed to be more chaotic than usual as of late, especially when that new inmate got registered. Supposedly charged for multiple cases of assault, it was no surprise that he was the root of trouble, causing numerous disturbance to the other inmates.

As much as he'd like to interfere to keep the peace and balance within the fortress, it was supposedly a 'fair fight' since the inmate was given full consent, which meant that it was technically more of a duel.

Plus— Wriothesley needed some relaxation, after the whole ordeal with the prophecy and the catastrophe that nearly ended Fontaine. He was glad that now he had some time for himself.

"Some peace and quiet..." Wriothesley mumbled in relief, lifting the cup to his lips that quirked into a smile. It was time to relax.

"Your grace!"

The sound of the door slamming below his office startles Wriothesley, flinching as a few drops of tea spilled onto his desk. He groans quietly, putting the cup back down as the sound of footsteps climbed the stair case. "And... not a moment too soon."

"Your grace! It's about your [S/O]!" The guard exclaimed as soon as they reached the top of the stairs, one hand on the railing with the other on the hip and slightly hunched over, panting and out of breath from running.

His brows perked in surprise, did you get in trouble again? You were supposed to be on 'probation', too! You really didn't know when to rest, huh?

"What happened to them being supervised?" Wriothesley questioned, arms crossed and a disappointed frown on his face.

The guard gave a sheepish laugh. "...The guard looking after them left for lunch..."

Wriothesley sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Of course this would happen, you always get your way in the most ridiculous ways possible... Last time you were under 'strict supervision', you manage to sneak away from the guard in charge of looking after you by diving into the waters surrounding his office and disappearing to Archons knows where.

But then again... you make things interesting. Maybe that's why he loves you. Maybe a little too much, with how he was barely strict with you...

"Alright... what did they do this time?"

[Meanwhile...]

"That all you got?"

"Dodge this!"

You snort, swerving your head to the right, narrowly avoiding another hit. "How's that for a dodge, buddy?" You teased.

Your body feels a little numb, from the adrenaline or from enduring hits and the electricity lingering on your skin, you weren't sure. Neither did you really care. This was fun!

You lifted up your arm to block another punch, narrowly deflecting it— ember and sparks flying across the ring, grazing against the flesh of your face.

"All this commotion's going to arouse Wriothesley's attention..." Rousimoff mutters, the sound of your fellow inmates cheering loudly nearly filled the fortress. If it weren't your presence garnering attention, it would be the loud audience that attracted other passersby.

Small explosions created by Pyro and Electro continued to sound throughout the ring each time your fists met your opponent's blocks, your grunts mixed with his. The sounds were loud enough to mask Wriothesley's boots clicking against the floor, approaching the ring.

His brows furrowed and his lips tugged into a disapproving frown when he saw you, bruised and battered with sweat dripping from your forehead. How long has this 'duel' been going on? You look like you were about to collapse, yet, the adrenaline was making you tough it out.

He knew you were a tough fighter, he's seen how passionate you could get in a fight, even if it was just training— but you were still a human who had limits, limits you keep forgetting about just for the thrill of a fight.

"Alright, time to shut down the show, everyone." Wriothesley's voice was loud and firm, laced with his usual strong authority. Yet, his eyes were trained on you, slight concern hidden beneath his stoic demeanour.

Hearing Wriothesley's voice, the cheering quickly died down. You, too, heard your lover's voice, your eyes widening in surprise as you spotted the dark haired man standing by the Pankration ring. Uh oh, you're in deep trouble.

Seeing you distracted by Wriothesley's presence, your opponent took the opportunity, attempting to aim for the side of your face.

"Woah!" You managed to barely grab his wrist, just a hair's width away from contact. Electro meeting Pyro, you could feel your skin getting burned and shocked at the same time. You felt the adrenaline stop pumping, all of a sudden— you felt acutely aware of the stinging pain in your body.

In just a split second, your vision started to glow brightly, the fire surrounding your arms flaring up as the electricity rapidly surged from your opponent.

An explosion echoed throughout the fortress, causing the ground to rumble from the impact, you felt a large gust of wind shove you and everyone else nearby backwards. Your back met the wall behind you, skull slamming against the metal plates followed by a slight crack— and your vision cuts.

"...."

. . . . . . . . .

"[Name]... damn... reckless..."

"[Name]... come on..."

"[Name]!"

"Aaah!" You let out a yelp, flailing in your bed as you felt the aftershock from the explosion and the all too familiar feeling of a strong blast shoving you. Your head stings, a lot, and you had the urge to throw up.

"Woah! Relax!" Wriothesley exclaimed, hands gripping your shoulder, but not too firmly in fear of injuring you further. "That shockwave really did a number on you, huh?"

He gently laid you back down onto the soft mattress of your bed, you sighed, noticing your head and most of your body wrapped in bandages. Your skin littered with burn marks, some were minor and would heal easily, there were about a few major ones that might leave a scar or two accompanying your old ones.

"No kidding." Wriothesley sighed, voice filled with disappointment as he shook his head, worry hidden underneath. "What did I say about getting into fights?" The Cryo vision wielder spoke, now his voice laced with his usual authority, albeit a little softer only for you.

"Ohh... ohhhh, I'm... not in a good shape..." You managed to croak out, your arm resting on your chest while the other hung in the air slightly, you were so drained that you can barely raise your arms.

At least your heart's still beating, you're thankful that you've somehow managed to survive such a powerful Overload.

You barely wheezed out a laugh, giving your beloved a cheeky smile. "Wasn't a fight— It was a duel~" You quipped.

Wriothesley rolled his eyes, the corner of his lips curved into an amused grin. Of course you'd still try to crack a joke after narrowly dodging death.

"You're lucky we had Sigewinnie nearby at the time." The male scoffed, lightly poking your cheek.

"Give my thanks to that little angel." You hummed, relaxing in your bed, a satisfied smile on your face at lightening the mood and getting patched up by a reliable doctor.

Since your bed was pretty big (Benefits of being the duke's S/O!), you scooted aside slightly and adjusying your position, letting the duke sit on the bed. He was careful not to bump you with his hip, he knew that you were just trying to downplay the situation so you wouldn't get a scolding from him... which wouldn't work anyways.

"So... want me to have 10 guards look after you when you've recovered?" Wriothesley scoffed, carefully lifting your head and guiding you to rest on his lap. You let out a sigh of content, his fingers carressing your cheek, thumb tracing circles on the flesh.

A quiet and strained laugh leaves your slightly sore throat. "Wrio, c'mon... I just wanted to have fun..." You sighed. "...Sorry, alright?... I didn't mean to deviate from your orders like this, but... well, hard to resist. It's like how you can't go a single day without tea~"

"Don't bring my tea into this, [Name]." He chuckles, patting your head. "Then, I'll just have to be the one keeping an eye on you from now on."

Huffing, you gave the male a pout. "It wasn't that bad." You tried to protest, the idea of being under supervision 24/7 was already annoying enough, but your lover being the one to look after you isn't as fun as others may think— especially when he gets overprotective without realizing. You love him, yes... it's just sometimes, it seems like he forgets that you still have capabilities.

"Dove, you're covered in bandages and bedridden... I don't want this to happen again." Wriothesley sighs, rubbing his temples. His brow furrowed, it was easy to pick up the clear disdain in your voice, knowing you still wanted some semblance of freedom and have the ability to stay independent.

He leans down towards you, lips grazing on your forehead. "...I promise I won't coddle you so much this time... just see this as... us hanging out— but much more frequently where I can keep an eye on you and make sure you don't end up in the infirmary again, alright?"

You chuckled, muscles loosening at the gentle kiss... Okay, maybe getting coddled once in a while wasn't so bad.

"...Same thing~" You chirped, tilting your head slightly and connecting his lips with yours. "But okie doki, deal."

"Deal." Wriothesley hums as he pulled his lips away, giving you an affectionate grin. One hand continues to carress your cheek, the other brushing against the fresh bandages on your arm.

Your skin tingles from the warmth of his fingertips through the bandage, arms twitching slightly as you attempted to lift them.

Though, you clearly still needed to rest a little longer before you can fully move your body again. For now... you'll just lay here, resting on Wriothesley's lap.

And to boast about how you definitely won that duel against that rambunctious inmate. Victory is yours~

[deathmetalunicorn1]

Ok, ok... I have one request with ror! I have been waiting for this. Also, really loves your writings, it made my day

This is basically my most recent experience. Child reader have severe allergic to peanuts and her family (the entire ror team) know this and warned her school prior, to avoid her getting allergic reaction during school times. One day, there was an event at school, where all the ror attend it since reader is performing with her class and want them to come and parents/family members were invited.

After child reader performance, she immediately went to enjoy lunch with her family and she suddenly got the urge to eat something sweet. This led her to go by the food stall, which was run by a few parents and teachers, who sells baked goods, drinks, etc to the students and parent. Child reader bought some cookies after the mother that sells it confirmed there was not peanuts, only for the reader to get instant allergic reaction!

Thankfully, her family reacted fast and inject her with her epipen. When the mother was confront, she responded with "Allergic doesn't exist. Children uses it as an excuse to be picky!"

How will the ror react to this, especially when reader is crying because she is terrified since it has been long since she got a horrible allergic reaction?

When I first read this request, I got so pissed off! I hate people who have this mentality, those who are willing to put the lives of others at stake to prove an asinine point that usually ends up with someone getting hurt, sick, even killed, which ends with them getting arrested. As someone who has a food sensitivity myself (not really a food allergy, but I have to watch how much gluten I eat in one sitting or risk messing up my stomach for a few days) I hate it when others think that we’re just being picky, or we use that as an excuse for who knows what!

-Your family learned young that you were severely allergic to peanuts, hives and throat swelling with a risk of death if you were even come into contact with peanuts.

-You learned a lot about this too, learning what questions to ask so you wouldn’t risk the chance of having a reaction, as you had a few times in your life where you had been rushed to the hospital, and hospitals scared you as it scared your family seeing you in one.

-For the most part, it was pretty easy to avoid peanuts or things with peanuts, as you all got to know what things have and don’t have them, it was just outside of home where you had to be careful, like at sleepovers or at school.

-It was Parent’s Day at school, and you were so excited to be performing with your second-grade class, as you would all be singing, and your class had been practicing so hard!

-There were so many things happening at your school, pony rides, a huge bake sale, a bounce house, and you got the chance to show your massive family around your school.

-Your class preformed, and you couldn’t help but grin, seeing your whole cheering section cheering loudly for your class, but mainly for you, as your family was a staple around school, everyone knew about them because nobody else had such a huge family.

-After a few more performances, there was a break, and a large snack table was set up, filled with baked treats, extra stuff not a part of the bake sale, and all students were allowed to go up and get a treat.

-You saw one of your friend’s mom manning the treats and she beamed at you as you ran up, “You all did so well Y/N! Tammy said you were all working so hard and I can see that it was hard work paid off! What can I get for you?”

-You looked at the treats, eyeing the different things available before you paused, remembering the rule, “What doesn’t have peanuts in it? I have an allergy.”

-She just smiled, directing you to some cookies, giving you a napkin and you headed back towards your family who was watching you come over.

-You bit into the cookie and as soon as you swallowed the first bite you knew it had peanuts in it, your throat swelling as you instantly paled.

-Loki screamed out your name as attention quickly went to you, seeing your having an allergic reaction, a severe one as Brunnhilde grabbed your Epi-Pen from Eve, jamming it into your thigh.

-A teacher was on the phone, calling for an ambulance and instantly several of your family members stomped over to Tammy’s mom, demanding to know what she was thinking giving you peanuts.

-Hades spoke, his rage barely contained, “Why did you give her something with peanuts? She told you she has an allergy!”

-Her mom didn’t look bothered in the slightest, rolling her eyes, “Allergies are just something kids use now to be picky!” Hades leaned in close, seeing the school nursing guiding in the paramedics, who had been nearby, waiting for an injury on the bounce house, “She could die because of you- you deliberately poisoned her!”

-A couple of police officers, seeing the group, were quick to approach, hearing this, “Is this true? Did that child tell you about an allergy and you knowingly gave that to her?”

-She was in hysterics, “She’s lying- you’re all lying! There’s no such thing as allergies!!” she was quickly placed in cuffs and taken away as you were being taken away, Tammy and her father watching nearby, Tammy in tears to see you being taken away while her dad was furious, seeing what his wife had done.

-You had to spend three days in the hospital, in a coma after you nearly died, as you weren’t getting oxygen into your body. Tammy and her parents visited you, with her mom being watched, seeing the state you were in.

-Tammy couldn’t help but tear up, “Mommy- why did you hurt my friend?” Seeing all the judging and angry eyes on her quickly had her mother embarrassed, wanting to run and hide, but her husband made sure she knew the severity of what she had done, keeping her there, making her look at your little body in the hospital bed.

-Her mother had to attend classes, to show her that allergies were a real thing, showing the signs and symptoms, including death, to educate her, and she had to pay your hospital bill, something she wasn’t pleased with, and she was banned from baking at any school function again. Her reputation also took a hard hit, losing most of her friends and Tammy was upset because none of her friends wanted to play at her house anymore.

-You were well cared for, healing and soon you were back on your feet, playing with Tammy who came to visit with you.

-It became a thing at school to regularly educate not only the kids but parents and families as well about allergies, especially food related allergies, because so many had been scared for you, seeing how badly you reacted.

-Good education and knowledge is what kept not only you but others safe and it was up to everyone to make sure everyone was safe.

[whatsurnameblog]

Satoru’s Mother’s Day Gift.

It's Mother's Day, Satoru just has to make it sentimental, but he'll need a lot of love and help from his only ally.

Giving a gift in the Gojo clan was intimidating. 

They already had everything they wanted.

But Satoru Gojo was always up for a challenge and even though he may not pull it together on time, he was determined to give his mother the best gift ever.

“C’mon Aguri you’ve gotta help me or I’ll die!” the boy whined as he tugged the older girl’s arm.

She was exhausted and the young sorcerer was more than two hands full. Sometimes, she wished to have had a twin to consume in the womb like the great king of curses. Alas, she was simply just the lonely fifth child of a lowly Gojo clan concubine. Something nobody ever brought up, not to spare the girl but because it was such old gossip it became boring to even acknowledge her existence. Satoru, at his young age, had always felt bad for Aguri.

“Satoru, your father would kill me if he even saw you with an empty measuring cup in your hand,” Aguri rolled her eyes and shrugged the young boy off.

“If you don’t teach me how to cook…” he thinks, sometimes of the dumbest things ever. “ I will tell my father you called me Satoru and not ‘Young Master Gojo’” The boy smiles menacingly before wiggling his brows.

“You traitor, you wouldn’t!”

“Oh, but I would Aguri, I definitely would,” he laughs at Aguri’s appalled expression. 

“You’re such a brat Satoru,” her mood lightens. “What’s this for anyway?”

“It’s for Mama,” the boy says simply as he looks at the trail ahead of him.

The two had gone for a walk to the river just before the boy wanted to play, Satoru always found himself enamored by the motion of the water and the small fish that inhabited it. He loved to watch the rice fish scatter when he threw a stone into the water. In moments like this, the adults realized that Satoru was still a child, something the elders hated to admit.

“Fine, I’ll help you,” the young woman finally gave in. “How about we pick some flowers for her too? Make a bouquet and a drawing for her to hold close. What do you think, Satoru?”

Aguri watched his face as the gears turned in his head. He glanced at her, his body full of uncertainty and nervousness. Would those really be good gifts for mama? He thought, and a puddle of nausea pulled at the bottom of his stomach. The boy was always unsure, never ready, mouth always stumbling when asked a question, fingers fiddling when in training, feet shifting during tests. Satoru wished he could fly under the radar, he desired to be placed in the back, something that would never be fulfilled. 

“Y-yeah? That would be cool,” the boy blushed as he pushed forward on the way back home.

“What sort of answer is that? Are you being honest, Satoru?” she stopped in her tracks, waiting for him to answer.

Satoru noticed the loss of footsteps behind him, his six eyes tingling uncontrollably at the lack of company. The boy always tried his best to use it on their hikes. He turned around, blue eyes downturned in thought.

“Mama makes me nervous sometimes. I was just going to eat with her a-and you, and just go to training or something. I wouldn’t know what to say if I gave her those things,” the boy fidgeted with the strap of his satchel. His eyes searched the ground for nothing in particular, making the woman crouch down to him.

“You know you don’t have to say anything at all if you wanted, she’ll be happy just sitting in silence with you,” Aguri smiles.

“No,” he suddenly protested. “I want her to know I love her so… I trust you, let’s pick some flowers an-and get some tools for drawing and…” the boy goes on and on as he skips toward the Gojo estate. Aguri simply giggles and encourages his excitement. They picked random colorful flowers along the path and placed them in the boy’s satchel. The two took advantage of the freedom and playfulness they had alone before being back home. They were more like siblings than the siblings they had.

The duo glanced at each other as they reached the garden entrance to the estate, they straightened out their appearance, posture stiffening in the name of sophistication. The Gojo clan was big on looks, although they valued power way more.

They walked toward the mansion smoothly, the cool air from the river slipping from their skin and clothes and into the wind. It isn’t long before they meet the entrance to the home.

“Okay, young master Gojo, many of the elders and fighters have a meeting with the Kamo and Zenin clans today, so they are away from the mansion. That means we have until sundown to prepare your gifts,” They both walk to Satoru’s quarters swiftly.

“Will that be enough time?”

“We’ll make it enough,” Aguri winks before returning to her calm demeanor. “You need to worry about washing up, something I am sure you can do yourself, and then meet me in the kitchen. You remember where it is, right?”

“Yup-“ Satoru stutters as he fixes himself when a man walks by. “Yes, Miss Aguri,” he bows before the woman and takes off into his bedroom.

As the woman skids off to prepare the kitchen, Satoru gets ready for a bath. He takes off his satchel and gathers the flowers from their trip to place them on his desk. The sun shined bright through the window and fortunately for the young boy, he had a vase hidden behind a stack of blankets near the wall. He was quick to fill the vase with water from the tub in his en suite bathroom and careful to place it on his desk so he wouldn’t slip later that night for a bathroom break from his sleep, not that that’s happened before.

He placed the flowers in the vase beautifully, Satoru had an eye for decoration, if he wasn’t a Gojo maybe he’d be something creative like a painter. Remembering that he left the faucet running, he quickly prepared himself to jump in and as he thought of what to draw for his mom, he nibbled at his bottom lip, stomach full of nervousness.

In the kitchen, Aguri was fast with her movements and grateful for the absence of staff. She quietly gathered the ingredients for Satoru and his mom’s favorite meal, something she had learned years ago from the previous caretaker.

Working for the Gojo clan wasn’t easy. When she first came to the main house as a teen she was bitter toward the conditions her cousin —six times removed—was living in. She always resented the family, but his wife, her aunt, was a sweet lady from the Kamo clan, a daughter they could do without, and, Satoru was just a child. She couldn’t even force herself to hate him. So, instead, she just did what she was told, with no feelings attached. Until she witnessed the nasty abuse the boy and his mother received, and that’s when the girl decided she’d always be on their side. And she promised Satoru’s mom that she’d always be there for him.

“Aguri? Are you here?” The boy whispers as he enters the kitchen in his usual white attire.

“Yes, Satoru, everyone is gone!” The young woman whispers back and smiles at the way his head pops out from the wall. “I’ve already gathered everything, okay? Just pass me the ingredients as we go, and you’ll learn just how she likes it! This is exciting.”

Satoru nods as he comes closer. The young sorcerer was tall the only thing out of his reach was anything farther than the third shelf, so he watched Aguri carefully and without struggle. 

The woman was practiced in her movements, unsurprisingly, and she knew the recipe by heart by now. She instructed Satoru professionally as if she were the head chef of an upscale restaurant, something that would seemingly always stay a dream. 

“You’re so cool, Aguri. I wish I could cook,” Satoru hmph’d as he passed her some pre-diced vegetables.

“Thanks ‘Toru,” there was that nickname that made the boy blush. Aguri was important to him, she was more family than his father and siblings and he enjoyed when they could be this comfortable. “Your mama’s going to love this gift, but I think she loves anything you do.”

“I don’t know ‘Guri, she’s usually so picky,” he pouts and backs away from the sizzling pot. 

“No, trust me, she’s going to love it,” Aguri smiled at him and quickly moved on to the next big pot. It would take her some time to make three portions of the meal, but it was worth it.

The two Gojo’s fall into a comfortable silence with the occasional childish back and forth. Neither can help themselves in the stillness of the house. There’s no one here, most of the staff are in their quarters by now. It was the best time for this they both concluded. Just being together without the watchful and strict eyes of the elders was freeing. Although it wasn’t unusual for Aguri to be here around this time as a caretaker, she was always on the clock.

Aguri’s living quarters were also relatively close to Satoru’s which is how they got so close. Late-night snacks and a few sneaky card games were enough to get a seven-year-old Satoru to warm up to the girl who was simply six years his senior. Like every child he was impressionable, and Aguri was honored to be the “good influence.” 

But Satoru was also a good child, a little bit of a rascal, but he was obedient, not that he had much of a choice. Going against the rules meant punishment for the whole clan. A fact only spoken of in letters between Aguri and one of her siblings, something kept sandwiched between time away from the boy's eyes. Now that Satoru was entering his preteen years, as his thirteenth birthday would be in early December, the topic hadn’t graced the pages of a paper since just as the letters slowly stopped coming.

“That smells so good,” Satoru squeals. “You’re right, mama’s gonna be so happy! Can I tell her I made it?”

“Of course you can,” she gestures for him to come closer. “How about you mix the sauce a little, and we can finish up.”

Satoru smiles and nods eagerly before stepping in front of the stove. Aguri observes him cautiously, not wanting him to hurt himself. She helps him mix it evenly and hums when it's consistent with the meal's expectations.

“Alright, let’s plate the food.”

“Will you eat with us?”

“Do you want me to? I made enough for three,” Aguri smiles.

“Then you’ll eat with us,” Satoru decides.

She instructs him to grab the three plates she had already placed on a counter across the room. She turns everything on the stovetop down and grabs another pair of gloves just in case. Satoru quietly helps her plate the food into three dishes while she turns everything off and cleans up, and when they’re finished, she grabs a tray and a familiar-looking container she had set out earlier to cool. 

“Drinks in the fridge ‘Toru!” he nods and runs to retrieve them.

Aguri sets everything on the tray and waits for Satoru to come bobbling back. He tugged his lip frustratedly, the only options always being water or alcohol and he could only have one. It’s unfortunate that Aguri didn’t make tea but Satoru wasn’t bothered and simply grabbed three water bottles. He slowly closes the refrigerator when he hears Aguri call for him and quickens his movements to rush back to her.

They silently walk towards Satoru’s mother’s quarters, the boy bumbling with anxiety and eagerness. He stops just at the large brown doors before looking back at the girl. 

“It’s okay, you can do it c’mon, open the door, and I’ll go first,” Aguri speaks softly, her voice full of care and warmth and Satoru nods and follows her directions.

Aguri enters the room first, the change in air chafing her skin as she sets the tray on a table near the wall. 

“Come on ‘Toru, don’t leave us waiting,” she calls out as she smiles at his mother. She places the plates around the square table right next to the bed, one chair adjacent to the head and the other adjacent to the foot while a third faces it. Aguri opens the small container quietly, listening for Satoru’s entrance.

His feet were soft and nervous on the ground as he walked in. He gulped as his eyes set on his mother in all her beauty, her face was full of color today, and she looked like she was sleeping more than dying. The beeping machine tracking her heartbeat, among other things, was taunting. Satoru hated the sound, but he loved his mom, so he could bear it. And he would, as long as she was still here, and even though Satoru had lost hope over the last couple of months, she was still here, and he’d be right next to her for as long as she stayed.

To Aguri, Satoru was still a young child, and to his mother, he would always be her baby. Satoru couldn’t disprove either of those things. At this moment, he felt like both. He felt so small.

He walked towards her bed, the vase of flowers he acquired on the way to her room now placed on a table near the door and a quick drawing of a water iris with a short poem etched into the left side of the paper under his arm.

A spoonful of your love is enough for me to live through infinite lifetimes.

A hug,

A kiss,

A laugh,

A tear,

A smile,

A sigh…

As simple as it seems, it’s enough.

“Happy Mother’s Day, mama,” the boy smiles, tears gathering in his eyes as Aguri holds out her arms to embrace him, a gesture he easily recognizes.

And as they all enjoyed this moment together, they never thought of a future where a love like this didn’t exist. But if they had, maybe they would have been better prepared.

If you're reading this, I hope you've enjoyed it, and thank you for reading.

© whatsurnameblog 2024, do not copy or repost anywhere

[kerubimcrepin]

Live-read: The Wheel of Destiny #1, Atcham.

You can find this article on the Dofus MMO’s site, by simply googling it.

Before I begin this post I want to acknowledge multiple things:

On the hierarchy of canonical media, web articles are like... the bottom of the barrel. I already suspected this, but season 4 fully retconning Eva's parents from the lore articles sealed the deal. For this reason, take these as nothing but the sort of canon that will get retconned at the first available opportunity.

I recently found out that the Wheel of Destiny 8, the one about Kerubim, seems to use stolen fanart by Flowerimh, which is sad. I don't know where else to put this, because I don't want to make a separate post about this. Flowerimh isn't even active anymore...

Despite these two things, let us proceed to read this article together:

So, this article happens anywhere from one year to a decade before Joris was born, and at this time, Atcham and Julith were already acquainted and spending free time together.

Spoiler alert: They are searching for Kerubim.

Keke getting called a "precious runt" is on par with the shit Joris gets called. Wonderful. I do wonder why they would search for him in Brakmar. Someone confused him for Atcham? Maybe they asked Kerubim himself, and he didn't want to deal with them, and so, sent them to Brakmar on a wild goose chase?

I will not be asking "what did he do" because, like, Fifi Pretty Calves exists. He has enough enemies to have a price on his head.

I am literally in love with him, and every single way he is described in this part of the text.

"He had a preference for sibilant sounds", "Aw, poor little puppy", "the only reason he hadn't robbed them blind is because he wanted to know more".

He was so excited.... he thought they wanted him (not carnally).... 😢

He takes a lot of pride in his work and insane behaviours.

Atcham considers himself an extraordinary adventurer and a valiant fighter. AND HE ISSSSSS. But it is interesting that besides being a killer for hire, he probably also adventures.

[Taps this meme I made about Kerubim and Atcham once again]

He was so ready to be the one people wanted to kill just once, and they ruined his whole fucking evening.

Imagine this being your day-to-day life, for decades. Just people laughing at you, laughing because you still hadn't caught on that you're the joke, and laughing when you finally understand that, and get upset.

Laughing about you behind your back, to some random stranger, too. Because they still hadn't realized they're literally talking about him.

I think this is a good time to say that I headcanon Atcham as autistic. It is simply a headcanon, but one rooted in the themes of his character. I think it is a fitting conclusion, (albeit, just like my hcs of Joris having ADHD and OCD and Kerubim having comorbid BPD and HPD, very accidental one, on part of the writers).

I could talk for hours on the way neurodivergence, disability, body issues, and violence-as-response-to-abuse intersect in Atcham's character, — or the way he hates everyone preemptively, because he knows that they will probably hurt him, yet still tries to be at least a bit kind and fair to others (....who aren't Kerubim).

I am probably not autistic, — however, I am neurodivergent, and I love & relate to him, so yeah. Always rotating this bingus in my brain.

Imagine this being your whole life.

I read descriptions of Atcham being cool and fast, and all the analysis leaves my brain as I say "awooga hummina hummina".

The fact that nobody ever wed him is literally so unrealistic, like WHAT DO YOU MEAN you don't want the weird, mentally ill, neurodivergent twink.

We never see Atcham's home in Brakmar, but from the description of "tattered", and the way his bed looks in the comic panel I inserted earlier in the post, it is safe to say his home is the definition of "girlrotting". It probably smells. Bad.

Says the woman whose kindness will also be the death of her, — and her ruthlessness too.

Because of her visiting his home so nonchalantly, and their interactions as a whole, I like to view Atcham and Julith as somewhat close friends, — as close as two very emotionally repressed people, who have a huge age difference, and don't like to admit that they feel anything positive, can be.

He probably didn't mourn her, — not after she was presumed dead for ten years, and not after she died for real.

But he probably still thinks about her, once in a while.

[oddvanilla]

Not really venting because it isn't my type of thing but like YK some stuff should be let off my chest☹️

Idk why but I feel like I'm a side character in my own life 😭 not just that I feel like a robot (closest thing to that feeling) like everyone else has emotions and can be sad or angry and I just. Exist. Like that's all I have going on...

Sometimes it's a good thing!!! Like hey at least I have no mental illnesses or anything. I'm just always content with my life, and so far this whole year I only felt INTENSE sadness like 4 times and it just went away in the matter of like 3 hours. Even then, that wasn't sadness,, it was just anger at myself. I don't really associate crying with sadness, because I cry here and there for dumb reasons... last time I cried was when I heard my best friends say I love you because I REALLY needed that. And the time before that was me winning a football match on FC 24 against my dad, then I started crying because I started thinking about maybe it would be the last football game he'll ever play with me ☹️ but yeah, last time I cried was like a month ago. It's really rare that I feel like I need to sob or anything. As I said, it's good because people always associate me with happiness and ooo energy.

This isn't the problem tho. I feel like I know so much about everyone but nobody knows crap about me. Like trust me I'm an open book, ask me about anything and I'll give you an extended answer with a life experience + analysis. I get so excited when anyone asks me anything personal like my favourite colour or my favourite hobbies. It's not my friend's faults', trust me. They're amazing people and I will love them forever. But I feel like they're the main characters in MY life. I just happen to be the one who is always taking every picture and recording every moment. But I'll never be in any of those pictures because I'm the one holding the camera.

It makes me sick, I need to know every little detail about my friends, my family, even just a Tumblr mutual, but the closest people to me don't even know my middle name. I love my mom but she doesn't know what I like to do as a hobby. She has no idea that I like writing, or history. But I know everything about her. That's the case for everyone. This feeling makes me sick because I always feel overwhelmed. By the time I wanna go to sleep I'm stuck in bed for 3 hours without sleeping yet because my head is thinking at a thousand miles an hour. I always feel like I have to cut off people here and there so my life can weigh a little less😭

Everyone knows this one, I'm a heavy extrovert, and I talk all the time but it's never about me. When I'm yapping I'm either explaining how something works or talking about that one memory with my friends. I'm not used to venting because I'm scared of someone saying "not everything is about you". I've never been friends with a listener, everyone else talks and even I TALK, but I wish there was just someone out there who knew what's my biggest fear or smth.

Moral of the story, I feel like I bottle my feelings all the time. I think twice before I hit that post button and decide that it should stay in my drafts because oddvanilla is this person who's always happy, if you see me venting it'll be awkward. I don't want anyone to solve my problems, I just don't HAVE any problems to begin with. I just wish someone would listen this time. Hi just notice me pls I have feelings other than energetic!!!! Please keep it in mind at least that I wanna be heard :( I'm sick of speaking up for everyone who can't but I never get a chapter in the book for myself. Even if you just say something like "same omg" at least it would feel better that I'm not alone in this messed up feeling.

[arsonsara]

Paper Mario: The Twenty-Year Heartache

I'm going to be meeting an old friend soon.

It's been a long time since we last saw each other. I don't know why we haven't talked since then. There's a tightness in my chest every time I think about writing him a letter, my head spins and my thoughts go cloudy every time I think about leaving everything behind so I can visit him, and ache in my throat every time I think about how long it's been.

Sometimes I try and make myself feel better by thinking he feels the same way. Guilty, wishing everything else in the world could go out of focus just so that I...

We...could meet again.

It's a stupid thought. He doesn't have a reason to think about me anymore. He has more important things to do, people rely on him, people look up to him. He can't let those people down. Not for the sake of someone he only met once… I never did get the chance to tell him. I almost did. Everyone else stood beside me, at the end of the pier, as stars glimmered in the night sky and their light reflected back on the ocean's azure waves. It felt right, it felt like everything I could've ever dreamed of...

But...she was there. The only reason he was here was to save her. Ugh, I feel disgusting for even thinking that. He's such a selfless person, so kind, so generous, such a gentle and understanding person. Saying that he was only here just for her feels so...debasing.

But I can't stop thinking about it. How people talk about them, all the history they have, they've known each-other for so long that people can't think of them apart, and when they are, he's always the one to bridge the gap, overcome any obstacle, travel across the entire world...just for her. So all I could muster was a weak whimper, my voice barely above a whisper, before I tore the words from my mouth and just said… "I sure do think you and Peach make a nice couple..."

Because all I could think was that she was realer than I ever could be… ...I never did get the chance to tell him. Whenever I spoke of how I looked, people would always assure me I was "A knockout", "Positively radiant"..."a really pretty girl."… Whenever they heard my sisters mock and ridicule me, they must've thought it was just the talk of an old crone and her droll yes-woman, average, wicked villains who only really exists to act cruelly and not...what it actually was behind closed doors. I will admit, it made things easier. I didn't have to explain my existence to them, I didn't give them any reason for them to question what I was, and keeping it a secret meant I didn't have to burden them with...everything it took for me to get to this point. And why should I not want that? For nobody to question why I have such long hair, why I get so giddy when I think about dressing up or putting on lipstick, or...why I would have a girls name. Don't I deserve to be accepted like that so simply? For me to be what makes me happy and have everyone understand without asking? To not have to justify my existence? I absolutely do!...So...

Why does it feel like I'm still trying to justify it to myself? I want to tell him. I so desperately want to tell him. Everything. Every last little thing I've held inside my heart for the past twenty years. I never thought I would ever get this chance again, and it excites me as much as it terrifies me. My soul is giving off sparks that jolt my body to its very core, and it feels like it could paralyze me as much as it could drive me to scream my truth from the top of my lungs so it could echo past the horizon. There's a part of me that's begging me to quell that scream, for me to bury those feelings deeper than I ever have, bury them deeper than what we found come the end, and just pretend like nothings changed. Stay in line, say your lines, and keep everything shut. Nobody can hurt me like that again if they don't know… ...And maybe it's selfish, or some crazy fantasy that rattles around in my head once I'm done tiring myself out with all these worries and fears. But I like to think that...maybe, even if he didn't know back then that… That he knows now. Even without me having to say it. And that once we meet again, under that twilight sky where he first dried my tears, as the moon hangs above and shines its light down on the both of us...

He'll love me just the same as he always did.

Even if I don't have the strength to tell him how much I love him.

---- I wrote this poem in a flash. It struck my brain like a lightning bolt and all I could think about was putting my pen to paper and writing it. It's messy, off the cuff, uncut and genuine. I don't think I could've wrote it any other way, and I kind of love that. Hope you enjoyed it.~

[meowmeowmeow9]

2 april, 2024

i thought i’d post a couple bits and pieces from my diary on this day. things i underlined are in italics. might not make much sense but i wanted to post something.

april 2

been a minute. i’m on a train. reminds me of london. it’s green out. with [cure]… and [man]. got a feeling he won’t last long. LOL. sorry [man].

headed to SF. should be interesting. i’m excited for the beach. i love the ocean. it’s like one big mystical creature. i’m best friends with the ocean, in case you didn’t know. you should ask. she’ll tell you all about me.

hung out with [pony]. wasn’t bad. we were (are) going to have a sleepover on wednesday. they wanted to cancel, so they could hang with their friends. that hurt my feelings. am i boring? technically i’m only here with [cure] because she needs me to be. but i feel like me and [cure] are getting pretty close. won’t dwell. i’ll talk to them about it. then go from there.

i miss london. the UK. maybe i could get mom to take me as a grad gift. i miss chinook too, but that’s not grad gift worthy.

—

pigeons break my heart. i saw one limping earlier. so sad. i’m not sure what to do now. maybe i’ll sit by the seals. nobody has dr pepper in the bay.

i feel like in big public spaces we all develop this crazy tunnel vision we don’t even realize is there. and we only think about ourselves. and even though we’re aware of all these people, they don’t exist. they’re just complements to the environment. like, accessories. and sometimes something happens to break the illusion, and suddenly someone is real, and it’s the strangest thing in the world for a time. and then you go and the memory removes itself as insignificant.

when the illusion breaks, the person becomes real, because now you have a relationship with them. earlier, it was you alone, you and nothing. but the interaction changes that — now it’s you and a stranger. for example:

there were a lot of people at the pier. i was alone.

‘a lot of people’ just describes the pier. picture that statement: you don’t think of the people. you think of a crowd.

someone ran into me at the pier. they said sorry.

‘someone.’ a person. ‘they.’ now you have a relationship with the stranger. they’re “the person who ran into you.”

i think that is very cool. i like strangers. and pigeons.

—

5pm now. god it’s cold. and windy as shit.

it’s not half bad, being alone somewhere. i really, really love the ocean. i should write something about that. i don’t know why i feel the need to make everything i write something utterly profound. i guess it’s because i’m afraid it’s not worth reading, if not profound.

i wish i would meet someone. tunnel vision is a curse. am i pretentious? would a pretentious person worry about being pretentious?

i just think that people are so beautiful

good day

[mcflymemes]

ENCHANTED (2007) PROMPTS

they’re only after one thing.

i don’t know. nobody will tell me.

have you any last words before i dispatch you?

you have got to be kidding me!

why are you staring at me?

is that a bad thing?

over my dead body.

oh my goodness. how do i look?

i knew it was you.

now you’re beside me, and look how far we’ve come.

i beg you. tell me where they are.

would you like me to call someone for you?

i don’t think they would hear you from here.

let me guess, you’re looking for a beautiful girl, too.

is that the only word you know? “no?”

when you keep saying no, it just makes me so... angry!

you feel you’d die without me here.

wow! you’ve got great reception here!

nobody has been very nice to me.

yeah, well, welcome to new york.

now if only i could find a place to rest my head for the night.

everybody has problems. everybody has bad times. do we sacrifice all the good times because of them?

you lying, murderous wretch!

don’t you think that’s a bit melodramatic?

i don’t know if i’ll make it through today, let alone a lifetime.

that’s what i’m trying to tell you. it’s complicated.

let’s just walk. can we walk?

please, don’t leave me.

you’re not singing.

before we leave, there’s one thing i would love to do.

i want to go on a date.

wasn’t that lovely?

you have no idea who you’re dealing with.

everybody stay on the bus.

i’ll tear you apart! do you hear me?

we sure had a lot of excitement tonight.

were you scared?

is this a habit of yours? falling off of stuff?

we shall be married in the morning!

how long have you been together?

you have such strange ideas about love.

forget about happily ever after, it doesn’t exist.

this is a very nice place.

i think you’re a hopeless romantic who’s discovered that romance is hopeless.

i hope you had wonderful dreams.

do you like yourself?

no wonder they’re angry.

i’m gonna ask them to marry me.

but dreams do come true.

i forgot who i was talking to.

i like talking to you.

how come people keep giving you free stuff?

he was on the bus this morning. he tried to kill me!

okay, you know what? you gotta go.

i’m surprised. you said you couldn’t dance.

i’m very sorry. i didn’t mean to pry.

get them outside! get rid of them!

[workingmyheartaway]

Me trying to blog. Idk if anybody will even see this.

I think I’m the most pathetic person alive, there was this guy I heard about from my sister growing up and I finally shot my shot with him and he used me for sex throughout my younger years. I’ve always been slightly achey over him. He reminded me of myself to a level I can’t explain his birthday is the day before mine and we had the same demeanor. He became an addict like me and we both got sober but when he got sober he got fit and he got a really big ego. Me and him started talking again. And I can’t even express to you how magical it was, it started as a phone call and then it became everyday. I had just left an abusive relationship so I was stand off ish trying not to put too much of myself in it or be too much but everyday more and more he begged me and spent so much time and effort into assuring. Me that he did care about me and I could trust him. I thought since he was making as much effort as he did that it was safe. I was so fucking happy I woke up every morning to the sweetest fucking text messages and when I went and saw him he looked at me in a way no man had ever. He handled me with care the way nobody had ever touched me. I thought everything was perfect. But I was driving three hours to see him and I started to realize that he wasn’t making that drive for me ya know. Idk it got in my head and I started to notice that everyday he was getting kinda shorter. But he still was texting me sweet things and he was texting me a lot and everyday. He was my best friend above all I told him things I’d never told anybody and he did the same. He was understanding and caring. But then I found out I was pregnant. I panicked for weeks and the whole time he was calm and almost excited. Then one day I woke up to a message saying he loved me and could see a future with me. We picked out names for the baby and he assured me everything. Would be okay. I tried not to love him something deep down told me it wasn’t safe but I failed and he became so much to me. The very next morning after he told me he loved me I woke up to a text saying he just wanted to be co parents and he didn’t think he ever meant what he said he told me he didn’t think he ever liked me. It broke me to read that and know that I would now be without him so I relapsed. And I made a complete fool of myself. I begged for him to care about me and when he said he could t and didn’t want to do it anymore I told him to stop existing out of my life and never try to be a father…. He took me seriously. I’ve been blocked on everything for over a month. I’ve texted him from different apps updating him on the baby like he originally wanted I know that’s crazy of me but idk I just feel like he should know. I got a job serving and have spent every second trying to work my heart out and forget about him but lately I’ve had a few hours taken away due to overtime and I can’t get him off my mind I want to let him go so fucking bad. I always think I’m over it but then when the world slows down something inside me deeply aches physically I miss him so gd bad it takes my breathe away then I start to realize he shouldn’t have meant this much because I never meant anything to him. I forgot to add that a week after this went down and I was in mid relapse I got a message from a mutual friend where his location showed up in my town. The only other person he knows that lives here is his ex he never made that drive for me but he did for her and my for did that make me feel so worthless. I hate him but I don’t. Idk what to do or how to let go, I’ve been trying to replace him I know that’s not the answer but I can’t even find anybody I’m attracted to anymore… I can’t hold a conversation with anybody or care about them. I don’t care about anything anymore and idk what to do. I’ve never been so close to giving up as I am over a guy that never even gave a fuck about me. He used me once again and I fell for it I didn’t have enough respect for myself to see his intentions. Idk what to do and I’m scared that he ruined me for life.

[onyxheartbeat]

I wish I could go back to being excited in the morning, heading to work in a pretty dress, wearing my perfume and lipstick, hoping so badly you would be there as early and open the shop with me. I miss the rush I’d get from hearing your key clanking in the lock. For 20 minutes, it would be just you and I. Nobody else existed in my mind. I’d watch you make an americano, unable to keep my eyes off you when you were turned toward the espresso machine. Some of those mornings with you were the most pure moments of joy and love. You’d be so talkative some mornings, and we could always talk about anything; serious, personal, or silly. We’d make our flirtations, and innuendos, our sarcastic comments. Some of those days were the happiest I ever saw you. You’d have genuine smiles.

I miss the nights Chris would call me to tell me all the things you said about me after I left. I’d laugh like a schoolgirl hearing about her crush. Everyone at work knew how you and I felt about each other. Our chemistry was felt.

I wish I could go back to those days, falling in love with you in that shop. I was the only person you’d talk to for an hour without stopping, about music, bands, and movies. We really looked at each other’s eyes. I miss how clear and blue your eyes were then. I wish I could go back to the Saturdays when you’d tell me you’d be at your neighborhood bar. I knew I’d be getting texts from you all night until morning.

I miss waiting with excitement for the double buzz from my phone, hoping so badly it would be a funny line or a flirtatious joke. Sometimes it was a link to a song. I loved reading your texts about concert experiences you had, or about your family, or what you had to do that weekend. You’d be drinking Coors and Jameson. You were always nice in those days, and calm. You always felt composed and fun. It would be almost sunrise by the time you’d text me you were walking home.

I miss how it felt to walk around my neighborhood at night and look at the stars while texting you. I’d have my earphones and iPod, listening to Psychedelic Furs or Echo and the Bunnymen or The Church. I’d think about our conversations about those songs, and I’d think of how cute you must’ve been in the 80s listening to them.

There was a magic to falling in love and imagining you at the other side of this city, in another era, by the beach. It felt so romantic, knowing you were by the ocean. And I’d fantasize about being there with you. I remember wanting to go to that bar with you, and setting up the plan to go with Chris to meet you that night. I’d give almost any of my possessions to go back to that night at the bar. The way your hand touched my knee, and the rush that gave me. I watched you play pool with hearts in my eyes, sitting on the stool with my high heels, hoping you loved the lace bustier I wore. I miss being that excited, hopeful girl. I didn’t see anything scary about you. I didn’t see any anger in you. I was just purely and innocently in love with you. And it happened slowly, like it should.

I’d go to the beach so much in those days. I was so happy just knowing your house was nearby, and I’d feel close to you in some way that wasn’t physical that I still cannot explain. Somehow, I felt I was home on that beach, because it was your home. I just knew, soulfully, how attached you were to that place, even years before you showed me just how much. I knew. I’d listen to my music as the freezing water washed over my bare feet, and I would daydream about kissing you, and you touching me, but mostly wondering how you felt about me. I knew you didn’t love me, but I knew you were almost there, and if I could just have some time, I could make you love me. What you told me years later let me know I was right. Though I don’t know what it is you feel anymore.

I used to smile so much, just walking on that beach. I desperately miss being so happily in love with you, it’s painful. I can’t walk on that beach anymore.

I just want to go back.

[rorywritesalot]

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

Chapter 2: gold rush

Prenote: Happy Wednesday! Welcome back! I’m so excited for you to read chapter 2! It’s very short and sweet. Drink your water, get some sleep, enjoy!

Warnings: Cursing

Miles POV

Over the course of the last two weeks, I’ve had numerous run-ins with a certain ginger haired girl. From seeing each other across the cafeteria to brushing past each other in the corridors with warm smiles placed on our faces. I went from not knowing this girl existed to hoping I can catch a small glimpse of her throughout my day. It’s almost infuriating if you ask me. 

I’m sitting in the cafeteria with Wainfleet, Z-Dog, Chacón and a few other fellow soldiers. My eyes scan the room when I see the familiar red hair out of the corner of my eye. I shift in my seat a bit so I can get a clear view of Ensley. She’s sitting a few tables down from me with some of her nerd friends and Dr. Augustine. She looks to be very interested in what the person diagonal of her is saying. Her hand holds her chin and her brown eyes say nothing except “continue, I’m listening.” She looks so damn sweet.

I must have been staring for a bit too long because I miss Wainfleet, who is across from me, look over his shoulder, try and see what I’m looking at and then turn back to me.

“You got a thing for Red, colonel?” He asked with a hint of amusement in his voice. He’s still looking down at his food, smirking. Z-dog perks up from next to me

“The fuck are you talking about? And who’s Red?” I ask.

“Ensley Sully, I call her Red, she calls me Ly.” He says very nonchalantly. I look at him confused and in disbelief.

“Oh yeah, I’ve heard of her. She’s nice. Not to mention, she’s like a genius.” Z-Dog pipes in and Chacón catches on as to who we’re talking about.

“We’re talking about E?” She leans in next to Lyle using her own nickname for the girl. I roll my eyes at all of them, annoyed that they all seem to know about this girl. 

“How the hell do you all know her? Y’all like friends or something?” I ask, hiding my annoyance and disappointment.

“I’m not sure if friends is the right word but yes I would consider her a friend. We became friends because of those meets that you forced me to go to.” Lyle says, taking a bite of his yogurt. 

“I’ve never met her but I’ve never heard bad things about her. She’s got quite the reputation in the science department. She went toe to toe with Dr. Augustine within her first month of being here. Real badass bitch.” Z-dog says with a chuckle. Trudy nods at her last comment. I look at Lyle and Z-dog in disbelief. They know so much about the redhead that’s been haunting my thoughts for 2 weeks. 

“You didn’t answer my question from earlier colonel. You got a thing for Ensley?” Lyle asks again and I grumble in my seat.

“No, I ain’t got a thing for her Wainfleet, and even if I did, it’s none of your business.” I snap at him. Everyone looks back down at their food when they notice my tense demeanor. When nobody is looking, I steal one more glance at her and see that her eyes have found me. She perks up when her eyes catch mine and she waves slightly and gives me a soft smile. I smile back and give her a small tilt of my head.

I look down for a second and when I lift my head back up to see her, she was gone. I slightly glance around the cafeteria to try and find her but she’s nowhere to be found. I finish eating quickly and head to my office. I plop down in my chair and place my forehead in between my pointer finger and thumb. 

I don’t like that everyone knows so much about this girl and I know nothing about her. I only met her 3 weeks ago and apparently she’s been here for just about two years and I never knew anything about it. I guess that’s what happens when you try and stay away from the science pukes. 

I decide I need to get some of my paperwork done, in order to get Ensley off my mind. I go through the stack of papers until I find something that catches my eye. It looks like an invitation. I open the envelope and instantly frown. The higher ups are doing that damn soldier/scientist mixer thing. That’s not the actual name but that’s what I call it. It’s their attempt to get us to get together and try to get along. It usually just ended up with both groups on either side of the room, almost like a middle school dance. I’m surprised they're doing it again after what happened last year. A fight broke out between a soldier and scientist over something I can’t be bothered to remember.

I hate going to functions like these. They bore me and I could be doing other things but I go to them anyway. Mostly because damn Selfridge practically forces me to go. I could tell him to stick it but I don’t for some unknown reason. 

I grumble about having to spend my Saturday night with a bunch of nerds but then it hits me. It’ll be another excuse to see Dr. Sully. I sigh out and get back to my papers that need to be done as I make the mental decision to go to this damn mixer on Saturday.

What’s the worst that could happen?

A/N: Teehee, I wonder how this is gonna go! Come back here next Wednesday to find out!

With love from Rory!

[werezmastarbucks]

dreams: youtube

how many followers do you think he got?

word count: 999

warnings: none

music: can't pin me down by marina

kai parker x reader

dreams masterlist

You hit play, and the face of the weird... influencer? appears on screen. You have this vague idea that you were going to watch something else. But your 'watch later' playlist now consists of three hundred videos, and the electronic noise of non-stop brainless entertainment makes you dizzy and zombie-like. You have a strong urge to log off, close the laptop and look out the window, but this guy's face glues you to the screen. For some reason seeing him in this format in 4K feels insidious, like he's a danger not only to you but also to others. Whoever watches. Like he's somehow connected to snuff... your brain, decomposing from all of the internet commotion, tired with endless sounds and buzzwords, feels physically tired. You rub your face. He is just like the others, has a Youtube channel where he babbles away about his business which nobody asked for. Another attention seeker, full of himself in the idea that people will stick and reflect on his miserable life.

He looks like a pop corn American movie embodied. White shiny teeth, glistening eyes, tiny dimples on his cheeks. A shirt you're sure you saw in Crop recently. Everything a teenage girl needs. Apalled, you contemplate how many of his followers actually have a crush on him just because he represents their Youtube dream. Neat, smily, white guy who gives you an idea that the world exists in a shiny rectangle.

You're immersed in your thoughts until your ear catches something off - that meaning, something actually interesting. His voice buzzes with excitement.

"The last time I told you about hell. But you asked me about, like, whether I have normal - real - stories. Well, I do, and I can even tell you about some of my art. Actually, I do it all the time. You know, I write songs in my dreams all the time", he fidgets in his place like a kid. He can't sit straight and is constantly moving his torso, his hands, as of hypnotizing you. He looks like he watches himself on the screen with one eye, and acts very well, actually. Not the most typical narcissistic type, but the well hidden one. He sure admires himself, but looks cool doing it. You start questioning yourself whether fifteen minutes of this bullshit will make you crush on him just a little.

"Yeah, and it's always something, you know... like I would call it cosmic confusion. So you know how there's cosmic horror? That, but confusion. I get these very soft, ambient melodies, which I don't like very much by the way, but my girlfriend does".

Gasp. Followers lost. You never say you have a partner if you have that kind of smile that holds your whole channel together.

"And the lyrics are like puzzles that I can't seem to gather together. It's been going on for years. What if I'm dreaming a whole discography that's a mysterious code at the same time? And of course when I wake up I completely forget, like, ninety percet of that. Only remnants, but they qickly escape my head. But!" he yells out, making you jump a little, "recently I got this huge idea... I started recording myself on my phone so that if I ever meet a very cool musician, I can play it to them, and they will write the music for me, and I'll... anyway, listen to this".

He takes out his phone and reaches the microphone. The space of the audibe field is filled with his sleepy voice, singing some gibberish, missing every possible note as if on purpose. You instinctively switch off, drowning in memories. Actually, that happened to you too. You dreamt of a black room with a yellow chair in the middle that played music. It was... surprisingly like... what's his name... you look at the name of the channel again - CovenMaster - Jesus - said. Cosmic confusion, like you're lost, but you're not scared because the dimension you got stuck in is too eerie for human brain.

And the only line that was in this song that you remembered to this day was,

When's the boy coming back?

You look back at him, and now he doesn't seem Disney foolish. He looks straight at you from your screen, listening to the end of his ugly song.

"There", he says quietly, "now you know I'm a genius. You can't match me". There's a flicker of well-masked humor in this, like you're supposed to be in on the joke.

"And most importantly, you can't pin me down. I go up every time, don't I?"

Against all reason, you nod, like somebody is standing behind you and has a hand on your head.

"The dark abyss of oblivion, the hell, nothing can hold me for long".

There's silence.

"And?" you ask out loud.

"Oh, it's another one, the other song I didn't record. Jeez, I should really head to SoundCloud", he mumbles. In a second his face lights up, and everything is the same again.

"Anyway, today I wanted to tell you about how I invented a new type of slime! I heard kids were crazy about it!"

You sigh and reach out to close your laptop. Not just click away from the page, but close it completely, to not see any flat screen.

"Wait! Okay, okay", he snaps suddenly. You freeze in front of him.

"Don't go just now, I gotta tell you something", CovenMaster has his palm outstretched and looks straight at you.

You keep silent, he does, too, for a couple of seconds. The shivers run down your shoulders and arms.

"This video is sponsored by Cheetos", he smiles widely, like a prankster. You groan and slap your laptop closed, with such force that you feel sorry immediately, fearing for the screen.

You get up and go to your window to look out the street. A typical nice neighborhood in Ohio, who wouldn't want to live here? The houses around are so familiar, the cars of neighbors roll patiently down the road. Muffled music playing somewhere a house away.

Everything is perfect, and you're glad. But the question still remains,

When's the boy coming back?