#dark academia is one of those aesthetics that confuses me. because it sounds like it should lean more into victorian goth. but it doesn't?
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this. probably doesn't count as dark academia, buuuuuut... this is as close as i can get lol
for @gloomiegalaxie's femboy friday!!! :)
#ts4#the sims 4#gloomie's femboy friday#salem lumaban-valentine#dark academia is one of those aesthetics that confuses me. because it sounds like it should lean more into victorian goth. but it doesn't?#or at least i'm pretty sure it doesn't? who knows not me lmao#also. downloaded GIMP specifically to try to add some sort of candle flame effect to the candelabra#because the accessory didn't have any. and the photo editor i usually use doesn't have any tools for that. but i think it came out nice eno#*enough#just don't look to closely at it haha#so far salem has like. two styles. emo eboy(?) and victorian goth(?) stuck in a haunted house
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Impressions of ttpd under the cut.
Okay, I’m writing my thoughts down as I listen so I don’t lose track.
Songs I’ve listened to : Fortnight, I Can Do It With A Broken Heart, Fresh Out The Slammer, Florida, Guilty As Sin, I Can Fix Him, loml, How Did It End?, The Prophecy, I Look In Peoples Windows, The Bolter, Peter.
Songs I liked: The Bolter, I Look In People’s Windows, The Prophecy, Peter.
KEEP IN MIND: I only listened to the above mentioned songs. Albums are usually meant to be consumed as albums. So if I’m missing certain pieces of he puzzle because I skipped around, lmk/ remember that as you read this.
General note/ TLDR: there are moments of strength on the album. It’s not all bad. In the songs I liked most you can even see the signature strengths of TS, story telling being one of them. But the album feels too bloated and might be her weakest work imo.
The aesthetic: confusing! She oscillates between the asylum and the poet motifs. I understand why. I think a perfect combo for this would’ve been the dark academia trope. She should have embraced that fully. Madness/ darkness as a result of love and creativity is a huge theme in dark academia and in the 18th century poetry that it comes from. She seems to be circle those vibes. But the whole asylum, craziness, poetry, creativity, childhood innocence, corruption and sex, end up confusing the message when they all could have fit coherently together if she did the academia thing.
Positives: the album is hella relatable. The type of love that she describes (setting aside who it’s about) is something I’ve definitely experienced and it’s definitely stuff that people in love will do. Justify acting stupid even when deep down they know what they’re doing will only harm them/ the other person doesn’t see or appreciate it. Building a grandness around the feelings you have for the other person the deeper you fall for them, looking back and mourning that version of yourself as much as you’re mourning the relationship / losing someone. Or like realizing that the greatness that you saw in someone was due to the respect you had for them and goodness you imbued them with not because they were actually worthy of those things…that’s a big ass feeling to accept. Super real. Been there. It stingssss lmao. So I appreciate the honesty.
She’s always known how to tell a story! The Bolter and Peter are great examples of this but it’s in all the songs that I liked. And this has been true since day one. Her classic bangers like “Love Story” and “You Belong With Me” all the way down to Folklore and Evermore. In fact, I think that’s why when Red initially came out in 2010 people found it confusing. She herself always says it’s part of the country music genre that she took with her. Red did that in pop form and purists didn’t enjoy it. She does it on ttpd as well. In some songs it works, in others not so much.
Which brings me to the negatives: when it doesn’t work, it REALLLLY doesn’t work. Like in Guilty As Sin and How Did It End? Which for me are the lowest points form the collection of songs that I listened to. There’s some reality in there I’m sure, but it gets lost under all the bloated metaphors. I don’t think there’s a single line in either of those songs that isn’t supposed to be metaphorical and fake deep. It’s too much! She should’ve stripped it back / edited herself heavily in those songs. The result is she sounds ….idk empty?? Trying too hard. Like straining to really convince you that she’s devastated for real. I’d believe her more if she didn’t feel like she had to prove to me how much pain she’s in and just laid it out as it is.
The album sounds like too much of the same thing? I say this and I didn’t listen to the whole thing. Like the whole breathy/ broody sound and production is the same throughout. Sometimes, artists will do this on purpose to give the album a cohesive identity or to suggest that it’s one story unfolding over time. Like in AM’s 2014 album. That’s not the vibe I got here. Then again, see my disclaimer about not listening to the whole album maybe if I had listened to it from beginning to end I would feel differently. But the vibe I currently get is that some songs might have been recorded in the same writing session so they were too close to each other artistically cuz that’s the idea that was in her head at the time. Or like some songs were made from scraps leftover from another song that came before it. You know what I mean? It’s hard to kill your darlings, as creative writing teachers always say, but sometimes you really should, lol.
General frustration: this album doesn’t have a signature Taylor Swift song that I can sink my teeth into or play in the car, or on the radio and I genuinely don’t think there has ever been a Taylor Swift album where at least one song didn’t go viral/ become a likeable hit.
Overall not as trash as some takes have made me think however nowhere near as good as a TS album should be. Yeah. That’s all I’ve got.
#scared to tag this#so maybe I won’t?#please don’t come at me#oh fuck it I’m coming from a good place#ttpd
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wait omg these match-ups sound so fun. can i have one for hp & one for mphfpc if that’s not too much?
i’m 5’2, i’m white & american, i use she/her pronouns, and i’m bisexual!! if u need any more i have short blonde hair w bangs & blue-grey eyes hehe. i’m an enfp (and if u know anything abt enneagram i’m type four!). i love writing, singing, reading, and just being around the ppl i love- so i’d say those are my hobbies :)) as for style… i don’t rly have a specific style but i love academia, cottagecore, princesscore, fairycore, and stuff like that. the things i wear tend to fall into at least one of those categories i think <3 i’m a hufflepuff and a quiz told me i’d be a half-blood lol. let’s say my peculiarity is that i have like. butterfly wings that’s cool i think lmao
v excited to see what i get!! also do u have a name u go by online? (if ur not comfy sharing ur real name lol) i just wanna know so ik what to call u when we interact!!
𝐈'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 (𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦) 𝐎𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐄𝐥𝐞𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚
Okay so...
• I feel like you and Olive have the same kind of personality traits. And that you'd just look cute together.
• You start dating after knowing each other for a few decades. I seams like a long time to know each other for, but things work differently in the loop and one of you wasn't sure whether the other only viewed each other as a friend.
• She would literally love your peculiarity. Because lbh, butterflies are the best (sorry not sorry). She would spend ages just staring at your wings whilst you read or wrote. If you're trying to show her a new book which Millard had introduced to you then there is a 85% chance she'd wonder off attention wise to where your wings where. They're just mesmerising to her ~ "Ol ? Ol ? Olive ?" *quick blinks* "Huh ?" "I was saying about this line in chapter seven-" ~
• Your dates would be pretty small, but cute. They would probably be held at the bottom of the garden or in town, in an attempt to get away from the noise of the kids. If you where in town then they would have to not be obvious, because of the era you where stuck in and all that, but sometimes you two would be really obvious about it just for the fun of them not being able to remember after a few hours. If you're having a picnic date with princess dresses and tiaras, (probably gonna end up happening because we all live for the aesthetic) then Claire and Bronwyn would usually end up making excuses to bring more food to you so then they could join, which Olive was sometimes too nice to protest to, but at least you got some time together without interruptions before they turned up.
• Okay hear me out on this one but, she'd constantly be stealing your dresses. Your outfits are just too cute for her to resist most of the time, so she'd sneak into your room across the hall and 'borrow' some clothes from time to time ~ *olive strolls into the room with a pot of tea* *looks over from the piano, squints eyes* *olive waves* *enoch scowls because why not* *tilts head* *olive leaves the room with the empty tea pot* *turns back to the piano before looking back around to Enoch, eyebrows pull together in confusion* "she's wearing your cardigan, yes." "I thought so !" ~
• When Jacob arrives, he's a little confused as to why you're glaring at him ~ "She's really nice, loves everyone." "Even Enoch." "Shut up Millard." *Jake looks over to where you're sat with a book upside down, looking over the top with your eyes dark and glaring at him* "She seems lovely." *Olive grabbing onto his arm to drag him off to the next room on the 'tour'* "Isn't she just, next is-" ~ . You eventually loose your glare when you remember that Olive isn't into him, after much assurance from her and alot of bad jokes from a certain dead raiser.
𝐈'𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐆𝐞𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞 𝐖𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲
Okeydokey ...
• Okay so I imagine you transfer from Ivermory in like fourth or fifth year and staright from the get go, George is infactuated with you.
• Like it's boarder line obsessive.
• Fred is his No 1 hype man. Well he thinks he is, in reality he sits there and makes sarcastic comments to his twin whilst the lad accidentally stares at you as you talk to your friends at the Yellow decorated table ~ "And here we have a wild George Fabian Weasley. Mating season has come around once again and he has his eyes set on a certain American honeybadger. In fact, he's had his eyes set on her for two years, he's just too much of a pussy to ask her out." "D'ya think she has to wake up really early to make her face that beautiful ?" *Fred looks up from his bacon with a confused look, ends up staring at his brother in disbelief* "It's probably just natural. She's so pretty Fred, isn't she ?" "Mate, if you don't shut up I will hit you." ~
• Okay so you're both pretty different. You're a literature girl ; books, music, writing and academic. He, however, was not. You did find out though, that he was good at potions from all of his and Fred's prank concoxions. And your potions weren't the best to put it politely. You'd obviously been harbouring a crush on him for a while, a few months after you'd started at the school precisely. How could you not, he was funny, kind, didn't cat call you, was one of the beaters for Gryffindor's quidditch team and he wasn't too bad on the eyes. He also had never pulled a prank on you which you where grateful for, but you weren't sure whether that was just because he hadn't noticed you. That's how you became friends, you'd asked him to tutor you in sixth year since your grades where dropping. Fred obviously teased him relentlessly for this because he didn't pull the first move.
• Time skip and in seventh year, after he's dropped out, he asks you on a date. Obviously you accept.
• Another time skip and you meet his family. Because Harry and Hermione are busy stopping the wizarding world from dying, you become the new source of Muggle infomation for Arthur. Obviously, George isn't too fond of your time together being interrupted by his dad whenever you're at his parents house ~ "Dad." "So the machine doesn't have a small elf in it washing the clothes ?" "No. It's just the machine's-" "Dad!" *You and Arthur look up from the couch to see George leant against a wall* "Hi son." "Hiya Georgie." *annoyed wave* "We where just talking about those muggle washing machines. Did you know-" "No I didn't . Anyways, darling how about now that we've seen mum and dad we go back to the shop ?" *Gets dragged out the door* ~
• Side note... but the pet names he would call you. THE PET NAMES. (darling, sweetheart, princess, huffles, honey)
• You end up getting on really well with Fleur, to Molly's dismay because your her favourate future daughter-in-law. You share a bit in common and she ends up taking you shopping in the village she grew up in for cute dresses. She tries to get you into french literature, which you end up giving into trying. Also France has alot of art history so you end up begging her to go on a little art tour with you. Bff vibes.
• I think you and George would just make a great couple in general. It's kinda a yin yang thing you have going on together. You balance each other out.
match up update
#match up#harry potter match up#mphfpc match up#harry potter#george weasley#george weasley x reader#olive elephanta#film olive elephanta#olive elephanta x reader#mphfpc#mad-elia
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Ghostbur x reader- Ghostly love
Y/n’s POV
Walking along the path to the clearing in the forest where my cottage resides I notice a change in the weather and very quickly realise it was beginning to rain. Sighing to my self I start to slow my pace in walking enjoying the rain as it hit my skin. My cloak getting soaked but at this moment I could care less and that's when I hear it, a voice coming from behind me. It was soft almost distant but it was loud enough for me to hear. Looking in front of me I see my cottage that I could just run to but out of the kindness of my hart I turn to look at the person behind me. I was shocked to find a pale man with a large gash in his middle looking at me as if nothing happened.
"Hi sorry to bother you but do you think I could possibly come in?" the strange man said
"you see I'm a ghost and I melt in the rain and I would really not like to be out here for long" he added to his previous statement rubbing the back of his ghost head
"Uhh sure thing bud" I say telling him to follow me. Walking into my home the man follows behind rather fast and sits him self in front of my couch facing the fire place that was still blazing.
"This is a nice place you have here" He said looking back at me "If you don't mind me asking what aesthetic is this? Its nice but confusing" He asks
"Oh its Dark Academia and Cottage core mixed into one I um I picked it up from my old friend who taught me everything I know" I say trying not to drop any hints that could get me possibly killed by Dream
"So he was like your professor?" He asks looking at me with a twinkle in his eye
"you could say that" Suddenly there was a knock at the door. Turning to face the door that I hadn't moved from since we got in opening it slightly to find two rather tall men in front of me one with pink hair and one with blonde hair covered by a hat of some sorts, suddenly I feel the ghost man's presence behind me.
"Hello, can I help you two men?" I ask politely opening the door more for them to get a proper look at me
"Yes you can we were told that you could help us with a little problem" the blonde man starts all of a sudden the ghost behind me shouts a loud Phil and the blonde and Pink haired men look at me suspiciously. The pink man quickly draws his sword and holds the tip of it to my thought
"Why is Ghostbur here?" the man asks me with his rough sounding voice
"If I was you I would put your sword down before you regret it" I respond and he just chuckles at me
"What are you going to do-" He asks but is quickly shut up when his sword has been thrown into the clearing far enough away from him so he could not reach it without having to move away from the door. He slowly looks at my hands to see that I have a stick (so he thought) in my hand
"What did you do?" He asks in a threatening tone
"I warned you but you did not heed it so I will ask you this once and once only who-" before I got to question the men in front of me ghostbur spoke up interrupting me
"This is my brother Technoblade and this is my dad Philza" pointing at both the men "she was just letting me stay till it stopped raining she meant no harm" he says putting a hand on my shoulder making a shiver run up my spine, his hand was freezing like ice, Looking back at the two men in front of me I come to the conclusion to speak up finaly
"What did you two want? And how did you find this place" Techno looked at me like he wanted to kill me and Phil just sighs and takes off his hat
"us three where supposed to come find you together but Wil here wandered off and found you we where told you where a necromancer of some kind and where hoping that you could bring my son here back from the dead?" Phil asked with hopeful eyes
"I-I'm sorry I don't do that anymore not since Dream had threatened me with execution if I ever did it again considering what happened the last time" I say looking back at the eyes of this ghosts father "But I can provide warmth, tea and shelter considering night is falling near and it hasn't stopped raining." I say giving Phil a sad smile
"That would be wonderful thank you..." He stops realising that I haven't told any of them my name
"Oh its Y/n my names Y/n" I say moving to the side to let the boys into my house which they gladly step in out of the cold.
*Time skip to later on in the night*
Ghostbur's POV
Me and Y/n sat on her couch enjoying each others company while Phil and Techno shared her bed.
"I just realised your the necromancer that Tommy keeps going on about!" I shout with a chuckle
"Tommy? As in the kid who came to me because he needed some where to hide because of my brother Dream?" she says to me and I look at her shocked
"Your brother is Dream?" I ask in a quiet scared voice like she would hurt me at any time
"Hey don't worry I'm not going to hurt you I'm nothing like the heartless basterd of a brother I have, he threatened me with execution his own sister, so ive got nothing for him anymore" she says tears welling in her eyes. Reaching out to touch her cheek with my icy hand I wipe any tears that had been shed away from her cheek. I look at her up and down and only now I realise that she has a scar running over her eye brow and down towards her soft looking lips. I let out a sight and pull her into a hug rubbing their back giving them a kiss on the head. It was around four thirty in the morning when I realise she fell asleep in my cold dead arms. I can't help but think, think that if I had been alive when I met her maybe then I would stand a chance to get with her. Wait no bad Ghostbur you have only just met her...But for some reason I cant help but be infatuated with her. Just everything about this young woman interests me. Her pretty H/l H/c hair, her E/c eye's and her soft pink lips that just look pleasant to feel against my own. But I have just met her so why do I feel like this? Why do I feel this way about her?
"Son?" I hear Phil's voice come from in front of me "Why are you crying?" He asks looking confused
"Dad, I um It's uh It's stupid really" I say wiping my own tears away
"You can tell me kiddo" He says smiling sitting in front of the glowing fire
"Dad when you met mum how did you know that you like her?" I ask subconsciously rubbing Y/n's back
"Well your mother was all I could think about at any point of the day, Why do you ask son" He replied looking at me in the eyes making me look back down at the sleeping girl on my chest to which he lets out a small 'oh'
"I don't know what to do i just met her and she's all I can think about and it feel so wrong yet so right but I'm also dead and I just I don't know any more Phil!" I say getting louder as I go on feeling Y/n stir in my arms i stop and look down at her seeing that she was still asleep I look back at Dad to see him smirking
"Well I think you've got a chance considering that were the only people she talks to other than villagers for trades" He says getting up and patting me on the shoulder "Try to get some sleep son" with that he walks away back to bed to sleep
*Time skip to 4 months down the line cuz I'm a lazy writer*
Y/n's POV
It's been four months since I met Ghostbur and I met and I have found myself slowly falling for the dead man. But the one thing that has made me realise that is the fact that he has basically moved in with me. But what I didn't realise is that through the forest from my clearing there is a snow biome where Techno's retirement home was sat. But that meant that when my brother went to find Tommy at Techno's house I got a lovely visit from my dick head of a brother.
"Why hello there sister, Ghostbur" He said just waltzing in my front door
"Dream what do you want?" I say to him with an angry look
"What can I pay a visit to my sister?" he asked coming farther into my home that used to be ours till he left for the SMP
"You don't get to say that I'm your sister after you threatened to kill me" I say looking him in that blank lifeless looking mask with the twisted psychopathic smile painted in black.
"Oh sister dearest you know why I threatened you with that and you know what you did to our mother" He said looking over at Ghostbur who had a confused face "Oh you haven't told your little friend here what you did? How you killed our mother in cold blood?" he said trying to gas light me to get a bad reaction out of me
"That's quite enough Dream. I want you to get out of my house now. And I never. Never want you to step foot inside of this house for as long as you live" I say in anger drawing my sword and pointing it at him. He rises his hands in the air and spins on his heels towards the door starting to retreat out of here
"Okay sister but just so you know I will not hesitate to kill you if you step out of line" He said disappearing out of my line of sight. After what felt like eternity I felt Ghostbur's hand on my shoulder and turn me towards his cold body pulling me into a hug
"was what he said...True?" he asks me all I can do is nod my shaky ands grab onto his jumper
"I'm sorry, I if you hate me that's fine I probably deserve it" I say into his chest
"hay no, I don't hate you I just want to know what happened" he said rubbing my back softly
"I...I was born with magic but only one person every one hundred years is born....so at the age of sixteen some people came to take me away but my mum got in the way and....they killed her and well Dream has blamed me for it saying I killed her that it was my fault...But I would never kill my own mother I loved her so much and so if you go outside to the back of the house there is a small grave for her that I made after he left that same day for the SMP when he was seventeen and that's the day he threatened to execute me if I ever try to bring those people anywhere near him so... after they taught me magic they left and they swore never to come near me again" I explained to him all of a sudden Wil let go of me and ran to his room and came back with something blue in his hands
"Your sad hare have some blue it will make yo better" he said handing me the blue automatically making me feel better
"Thank you Ghostbur I feel better now" I say looking up at him to find him staring at me with admiration on his face "hey Will? you okay there?" I ask him but I got no response but before I could ask him again I felt a cold pressure press on my lips It took me a couple seconds before I realised that it was the ghost boys lips and kissed back putting one of my hands on his cheek and the other on his shoulder his hands going around my waist. Pulling away from his lips and press my forehead to his and giggle.
"Phil told me I needed to do that at some point" he said a small smile on his face "I um Y/n if you couldn't already tell I really like you and I would love for you to be my girlfriend" He said to me
"Of course Will! I really like you too" I say leaning back into his cold soft lips kissing him again this time for longer than the last. Every kiss got longer and longer before eventually we where sat on the couch making out. But the make out session was cut short when the loud child burst into the house with Phil shouting after him and Techno not far behind him all three stopping at the door when they see the sight before them and Will And I pull away from each other embarrassed
"Well then... uh I think we will come back later come on boys" Phil says dragging his two other sons out behind him shutting the door quickly leaving me and Ghostbur alone again both of us look at each other and we start laughing soon enough falling asleep in each others arms in front of the crackling fire.
And Ghostbur swore that he could feel warmth after months of not being able to feel it and it was all because of me and loving the sweet ghost boy.
Ayyyyyyy its me here and have this sweet fluff for Ghostbur but I didn't plan on spending four fucking hours on this. Its longer than I spend on my school work which hopefully shows my dedication to this poor book.
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Swords and Stab Wounds | Hisirdoux Casperan
Plot: You had moved to Arcadia to avoid participating in world ending cataclysms, but fate had something else in mind. Now you’re helping stop the Eternal Night in some unconventional ways. [Hisirdoux Casperan x StronglyHintedtobeaDemigodorOtherMagicalCreature!Gender Neutral!Reader]
Word Count: 2,364 approx.
Warnings: Stabbing, minor mentions of blood, a wee bit of angst, swearing, Archie doesn’t like you (it’s because of the stabbing,)
masterlist
This wasn’t happening.
Nope, nope, nopenopenopenopenopenopenopenope, not today.
You were not okay with this, so you had elected to ignore it. But that never works, does it?
So, now you were face to face with a great monster beyond comprehension. The sky was orange, monsters and men were fighting everywhere, and some lady in golden armor was pretty clearly trying to take over the world. And you had moved to Arcadia to avoid this kind of thing.
You sighed. This demonic creature of sin wouldn’t wait for you to process everything that had happened today. It was time for action. You looked around for something to defend yourself with. There wasn’t much. Just a few sticks and a fast-food cup. You wished you had a sword. Any sword. There were no swords. You turned back to the awful horrible abomination advanced above the human mind. It was advancing. That wasn’t good.
Before you could decide whether to run, fight, or give up, a boy emerged from absolutely nowhere and struck the thing with a guitar, killing it instantly. This did not phase you, stranger things have, in fact, happened.
“You alright darling?”
Oh shit, he was talking to you. And he had an accent. Nice.
“Uh, yeah, I’m good,”
The boy gave you a thumbs up and ran back into the fray. You should’ve probably gotten in there too, but also nyeeeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh, no thank you.
As if it had heard your hesitation, the universe decided to make this worse for everyone involved and blow up some various objects. You couldn’t tell what it was, you just saw fire and smoke. And then you heard the screams. As done with war and fighting as you were, you couldn’t stand by and let innocent people suffer.
It was time to go find a sword.
--
Finding a sword was not as hard as it sounded. There were a lot of them lying on the ground, just none in the spot where you’d been attacked. T’was inconvenient. As you fought, you realized that these were probably weapons of the deceased. You could mourn later, now was the time to- DUCK.
You maneuvered around one of the regular bad monsters (not the colossal tower of pure malice that you’d been saved from earlier,) finding an opening and striking. Fighting came to you as easy as breathing. Since you were a child you’d been fighting. Fighting for your family, your friends, your home. And now you were fighting again, for the innocent. When would the forces of evil take a nap?
‘Probably never,’ you thought as you slid under a sword, turning on your knees to slice the back of the creature’s knees.
Maybe it’s good that some things never change. Evil always wants to fight, and knees are always a weak point.
You stood, taking a deep breath as you looked at the carnage around you. Most of it was actually caused by you. You were very good with a sword.
“Woah,” a voice came from behind you. You spun around, pointing the tip of your blade at the new opponent, but instead of another rock-thing, you found the boy who had saved you earlier.
You lowered your blade, “Hey,”
The boy walked towards you, taking in the field of rock at your feet, “This is-”
“Different?”
“Nuclear! Maybe you didn’t need my help after all,”
“Oh, no, I totally did. I had no weapon and no hope,”
The boy seemed taken aback by your words. Arcadians probably weren’t this blunt, at least under normal circumstances. You weren’t sure, you had only lived here a week.
“Alright then, do you-”
“DOUXIE, LOOK OUT!!” a voice called. You had no idea where it came from, but you didn’t care. A monster had appeared behind the boy, and it was ready to strike. You had five seconds to do something.
And in those five seconds, you did what anyone else would do and you ran them both through with your sword. It was super effective.
The boy cried out in pain, because, you know, he’d just been stabbed, and the monster crumbled to stone behind him. Good. Now all that was left was to take care of the boy.
You withdrew your sword from his abdomen, earning a groan of pain, “You-you stabbed me,”
“Yes, you’re very observant, now let me see it,”
You put your weapon on the ground, not super jazzed about his blood coating the blade. Oh well, sometimes sacrifices must be made.
You helped the boy lie on the ground and moved your hands above his wound. You were ready to go, but then a dragon attacked you.
It wasn’t a big dragon. In fact, it was about the size of a cat. However, size doesn't really matter when it comes to damage dealt, and this cat-dragon was dealing a lot of damage.
“What the fu-”
“STAY AWAY FROM HIM,” Oh, so this was an angry cat-dragon. Probably the boy’s.
“Okay, dude, calm down, I can’t help if you don’t let me,”
“You’ve helped enough!” Cat-dragon was still not pleased with you. And was still attacking, so you moved your hands, stopping the creature in mid-air, grabbing it from where it flew.
“Okay, look,” you sighed, “I am sorry I stabbed your friend, but if you don’t let me heal him, he will die,”
“Ughhh, thanks for that,” you wondered if the boy was always this funny, or if it was just the stab wound talking.
The cat-dragon fixed you with a terrifying glare, one that would have turned you to stone if you didn’t have work to do, “I will let you help him, but if you try anything you’ll be burned to a crisp before your body hits the ground,”
It was an impressive threat, especially from such a small creature.
“Don’t worry,” you said, setting the cat-dragon down, “I won’t hurt him anymore,”
The cat-dragon then turned into an actual cat, curling up next to the boy’s head. It was then you realized that the creature was wearing some really nice glasses. You had several questions but now was not the time.
Wasting no more time, you shut your eyes and took a deep breath. Silently, you placed your hands upon the boy’s stab wound, wincing slightly at the feeling of his blood covering your skin. You felt bad about it. There were probably better ways to kill that monster, but you couldn’t focus on that right now. You had to focus.
And so you did. And the magic flowed through you. It was soft and warm, and bright. You relaxed, letting the spell numb you, calming your nerves, and mending your broken skin. It felt like a soft fire, lighting your soul ablaze, and taking everything else with it. And then you felt numb. The magic was burning through you, and burning out. Exhaustion began to claw at you, but you bit your lip and persisted. You were nowhere near finished.
Now it was the boy's turn. Raising your hands, you let the spell drip from you and onto him. Hopefully, the magic had taken enough energy from you to spare him from the numb fatigue that tore into you. God knows you’d already caused him enough pain.
Fortunately, it didn’t take long for the magic to heal him. A few minutes went by and his breathing returned to normal. He would be okay.
And with your positive diagnosis, you let the spell go, releasing the energy into the universe and knocking you over. You elected to remain on the ground, groaning. You could hear the cat-dragon-cat talking to the boy. You should probably say something too.
“You alright?”
“Yeah, yeah, thanks for that,”
You waited for a moment. Something else blew up nearby, but you needed a minute before you had the energy to care about it.
“I’m sorry I stabbed you. I really couldn’t think of another way,”
“Why not let the troll attack me, and if I got hurt you could heal me then?”
“I couldn’t know how bad it would hurt you. I don’t know very much about what’s going on here. But I do know that I can heal a stab wound. A… what did you say troll? A troll attack I don’t know if I could manage,”
“That’s… fair?”
“Thanks,” you nodded, even though he probably couldn’t see you. There was more silence, another explosion. You really wanted a nap.
“So, your cat-dragon talks?”
“Uh, yeah, he’s a shapeshifter, actually. My familiar,”
“Dope,”
“My name is Archie, however, you may not address me at all, much less by my name,”
“That’s fair,” you said, closing your eyes. There was a rock digging into your side. You couldn’t nap here, “I did almost kill your guy,”
“My name is Douxie,”
“Cool, cool, cool, I’m (Y/N),” you sat up and turned to face him, letting yourself take him in for the first time.
He was definitely cute. He was tall with a very nice face and hazel eyes that stunned you for a moment. His black was dyed blue at the ends, and the ends themselves were so long that they hung in his face. He had an aesthetic going for him for sure, a black hoodie, skull necklace. What would that be, cryptidcore? Dark academia? Punk? The metal cuff on his wrist definitely added to the confusion, but it probably didn’t matter too much what aesthetic this guy subscribed too. Maybe, if one day fate was kind enough to let him forgive you for stabbing him you could ask.
For now, there were more pressing questions, “So, what’s your deal? You have a familiar, so you’re either a witch or a wizard,”
“Wizard. What about you? Not everyone in this town can run a man through with a sword and heal him immediately after,”
“Good to know. In short, I’m a healer witch with a sword. In long-form I was a child soldier sent into a war that I never should have been a part of because of who my parents were,”
“Oh... (Y/N) I’m... I’m sorry-”
“It’s not your fault, it was a long time ago,”
“A long time?” Douxie sat up, “So you-”
“Yeah, I’ve been around for a while,”
There was another second of silence while you both tried to figure out what to say next, but that stopped being a problem almost instantly.
“Douxie, I don’t want to stop you from bonding with the witch who stabbed you,” Archie said in a way that made it 100% clear that he absolutely wanted to stop Douxie from bonding with the witch who stabbed him, “But there is still a battle going on,”
“Right,” the wizard stood up now, without any sign that he’d been dying a moment before. You’d done well healing him.
“Well, (Y/N), I guess I’ll see you on the other side,” he extended a hand to you.
You looked up at him. Maybe this was the start of forgiveness. That would be nice.
You took his hand and stood.
“See you on the other side, wizard,” you took a moment, debating whether or not this next move would be a good idea. It was a bad one, but you went for it anyway, “Bye Archie. I like your glasses,”
You ran off before the cat could threaten your life again.
--
It had been, like, a week, since Morgana and the rock squad had tried to bring Night Eternal to Arcadia, and you were settling in pretty well.
You had finally unpacked all of your things, including your decently sized sword collection, now with the addition of a Gumm-Gumm sword (not the same one that you’d nearly killed Douxie with. You still felt guilty about that and you’d decided to pick up a new one.)
Now, you were out for a walk near a bookstore. It looked interesting enough, so you decided to look into the front window, only to jump out of your skin when you saw Douxie on the inside, sweeping away at the floor. Unfortunately, he also saw you. So you decided to run.
You didn’t get very far. The wizard caught up to you almost immediately without having to run. It was your fault though. You had run into a dead-end alleyway.
“(Y/N)! Hey! How’ve you been? I haven’t seen you since-”
“Since I stabbed you. I’m sorry about that by the way,”
“I mean… I wasn’t going to say that, but you are forgiven,”
“Great! Now if you excuse me, I’m just gonna,” You began to walk to the end of the alley, planning on climbing over the wall to get out of this awkward situation, but once again, you did not get far.
“Would you like to get coffee sometime?”
You froze with one leg already on the wall. Slowly, you turned to face him. “I’m sorry, but did I not stab you a week ago?”
“Well, yes, but I don’t see how that interferes with coffee,”
“Why-what-how do you,”
“Are you okay, love?”
“Why don’t you hate me!?”
Douxie blinked and then smiled at you. Your knees felt weak. Was that a wizard thing? Was he doing that?
“You weren’t trying to hurt me, you were just doing what you thought was right. You have a weird way of doing things, but I respect it. Archie on the other hand-”
“Will your familiar kill me if I get coffee with you?”
Douxie put a hand to his chin, “He might try, but I won’t let him,”
You laughed at that, just a little, “Good. In that case, I’d love to get coffee sometime,”
“Brilliant! Now, do you want to get out of this alleyway?”
“Yes,”
“Okay, let’s go,”
And from there, the two of you had a very nice conversation on the way back to the bookstore where Archie tried to burn you alive.
It was a nice walk though, despite the singed edges on your clothing from the familiar at your destination. From the sounds of things, you’d get to know what aesthetic the wizard subscribed to very soon. And for the first time in a long time, you actually looked forward to something.
#hisirdoux casperan x reader#douxie x reader#hisirdoux casperan#douxie#this had no planning put into it lol#hisirdoux x reader#toa hisirdoux#lovesong's writing
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Beej X male reader who works in a funeral home 🥺😳
Holy moly this is such a cute concept 🥺🥺💞
Male!Reader
⚠️Warnings: Mentions of death, Beej being generally raunchy and kinda insentitive, mentions/of dead bodies, side-character death! ⚠️
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It had all started on an unusually cold day in Spring. You were in the Funeral Home, a morbid part-time job that you had to take just to get through the day. Though, it had its own "Dark Academia aesthetic" to it, so it wasn't a bad. Plus, you got more and more desensitized to death every day!
You waved goodbye to the family that had just come in here to arrange some things for their dead "Pop-Pop", as the kid they brought in had called him. Poor thing, it couldn't have been more than five years old. It probably didn't have much of a grasp of what had happened to "Pop-Pop". She didn't know he was dead, lying in the back, in a cold casket so they could bring him out in a car tomorrow, and stick him in the ground. You sat down in your swivel chair behind the counter, spinning slightly in it. The shop was quiet, nothing but the wind swooshing by outside and the constant ticking of the clock could be heard echoing through the establishment.
You sighed, deciding to go to the back to see if Margaret, your co-worker who was probably older than most of the bodies here, had left anything for you before she left. She usually did that, because she would always look at you and say "Young man! You need to get some meat on those bones! Let Nana Margie fix you up something!" You weren't even that thin. She was a delight, though. Her husband had passed away some time ago, and she came into this establishment crying, and came out with a job there. She was sort of everybody's grandmother. The thought that she might not have much time left made her so giving, you thought you might never meet a more generous person in your life.
You went into the employee kitchen, seeing a plate of cookies wrapped in plastic wrap, with a bright green sticky note on it.
"For you, Young Man! It's Friday! Enjoy yourself :)
-Nana
Ps. Could you check the rat trap in the back, my old knees don't seem to wanna listen when I wanna crouch down there! Thank you, darling <3"
You laughed a little, opening the plastic wrap and taking a cookie. You also pocketed the note, a tendency you had picked up after a while, so that one day you could make a scrap book for her. She deserved to know she was loved.
You took a bite of the cookie as you went to the back, or "The hall of Death" as you had so dearly nicknamed it. It was where you took the recently deads that were going to be transported to a grave the very next day. You nodded to them as you went along, jokingly addressing them by name. ``Mr. Gale. Mrs. Potts. Mr. Jones.`` You chuckled and crouched down once you got to the back of the room, checking the rat trap. No rats. Margaret's vision was the same, so you couldn't exactly blame her. ``Oh well, Margie, you can never be too sure.`` you said to yourself, giving a chuckle. You stood, about to turn around, when a little jingle sounded throughout the room. A chill ran down your spine as you realised what made the sound. There were bells tied to each of the dead person's feet. They were there to ensure that the dead people were actually dead, and jingled when the dead person moved. It was one of the sounds you would never want to hear in one of these establishments. Fuck.
You turned around, hearing a louder, almost insistent jingle. Mr. Liren in the middle of the room. You swallowed and carefully walked over, spotting a card on Mr. Liren's leg. The bell was jingling like crazy now, but the body wasn't moving. What the hell was going on? You carefully picked up the card, flipping it around. The backside was striped, and was clearly drawn very hastily in sharpie. The moment you stopped to examine the back, the room filled up with jingles. Every bell in the room gave off a symphony of disjointed jingles and some even fell off of the string. You flipped it back to the other side, seeing the text. A shabby drawing of what looked like a beetle, a glass of liquid, and an x3. ``Beetle... Water times three? What the fuck?`` the bells all crashed to the ground and seemingly jumped up and down on their own, jingling and clicking on the ground.
You scrambled your brain, fear getting to you. The water was coloured in. ``Beetle Soda?`` more aggressive jingling. ``fuck... Uh... Beetle.. Juice?`` the bells started jumping up and down rhythmically. 1,2,3. 1,2,3. You swallowed and took a breath. Whatever this was, it wanted you to say this phrase three times. What were you supposed to do? This couldn't just be some prank. It was way too... real. What would this entity do if you didn't oblige? You closed your eyes, clutching the card. ``Beetlejuice.... Beetlejuice.... Beetlejuice.`` The bells stopped. It was quiet. It seemed like the world had just froze. You opened your eyes, looking around. Nothing. Mabye this was a prank. ``What a load of bullsh-`` you were about to swear to yourself or go on a rant or something but it was cut short by the appearance of green smoke at your feet. Yikes.
Slowly, the blanket over Mr. Liren started rising. Somebody was there, and it wasn't Mr. Liren. The room was now almost hidden in thick, green smoke, and the blanket was floating about half a metre above Mr. Liren, clearly with a person under it. All you could do was stare and back up, backing into one of the other dead body tables, slipping on a bell and nearly falling. A cackle tore through the room and the sheet was thrown off and onto the floor in a flash of green light.
``Awe Yeah, Baby! The B-Man's back!`` a raspy voice shrieked, and the smoke parted as a man floated down toward you, grinning. ``Oh, Babes! You really do know how to keep a demon waiting! You're obedient, though, I like my men like that.`` he gave a wink, putting a finger under your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. The demon was wearing a torn, old, black and white striped suit, his hair was an electric green and he looked as though, if he was standing, he'd be just a little taller than you. He must have noticed your confused and lightly flustered look, because he pulled back, letting his eyes rake over you very unsubtly.
``I see you're still confused... Don't worry, Sexy! I'll inform you!`` He yelled, snapping. A ghostly whistle was heard, and somewhere you could hear music that sounded like it should be best suited on a Haunted American Footbal Game. ``Ready! Alright! Let's rock! Hey! Don't look away! This demon's here to make your day! You need a friend? I'm here to help! I'm the B to the Double-E- J - F - Q - And Jesus, I cannot spell.`` he.... Was singing. To you. A weird demon guy was singing and dancing along to spooky Cheerleader music. As if on cue, Cheerleaders ran into the room, flailing their pompoms in your face. You coughed and pushed them away, their grinning faces sending you right back to high school. ``Hi! He's by your side! He-`` before they could do their weird cheer thing, you yelled. A yell you didn't think you had in you. ``Stop! Stop, please..`` the music dragged to a halt, and the cheerleaders looked at you, quite upset. You muttered a "sorry" and they walked off. The demon lowered himself to the floor, huffing.
``Can you please just tell me who you are? Without singing? Please?`` You asked, still trying to calm your nerves. The demon groaned, giving a toddler like stomp. ``Fine! You already said my name, you should know it! I'm a demon, and you summoned me, just like I wanted and now I'm tied to you and whatever.`` he replied, floating up and laying back in the air, crossing his legs and folding his arms behind his head. You already said his name? ``Wait... Beetlejuice! Your name is Beet-``
Beetlejuice audibly squeaked, rushing down and slamming a hand over your mouth. ``Don't say it! Ever! Bad things will happen!`` he yelled, keeping his hand on your mouth. He smelled like earth and rain that had just hit the warm summer pavement. There was also a distinct scent of dust and mold as he continued to invade your personal space. You frantically nodded and he slowly took his hand away.
``Wait, you're bound to me? What does that mean?`` you asked, moving away from him and picking up the Mr. Liren's sheet, gently putting it over him again. ``Well, it means only you can un-summon me! Duh. This is like, basic demon facts. Is this your first time working with a demon or something?`` he replied, a chuckle running through his voice. You shot him a glare, and he let out an "oh." floating down to the floor.
You sighed, looking at the time. It was closing time. ``We'll deal with this at home.`` you said, walking out of the back room, the striped demon shooting after you like an excited puppy. ``Oh man! You're takin' me home? At least take me on a date first! Ahaha!`` he said, laughing loudly. You just ignored him, turning off all the lights in the shop and putting on your jacket.
``C'mon demon, you have some explaining to do.``
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I couldn't help myself but write some headcannons, I just really love this concept a lot! Here they are!
•Beej loves that you work with the dead, and always asks you questions about dead people and is actually pretty vile to some of them
•You often have to tell him that he can't go around pretending to tickle dead people or try to "scare them awake".
•You have to tell him this way too often.
•He often greets people you can't see, and if actually remarkably respectful to them while you're around. He doesn't try to do anything as long as you glare at him, and he just bows slightly to the air and sometimes says things like "Follow the book" or "Draw a door."
•You like to think he's talking to the spirits of the dead people.
•One day you actually get confirmation on this, as, right after Margaret passes away, he comes to you and gives you some papers. His hair is streaked with blue and it's clear he's been crying. There are tear drop marks on the paper, but you can still see just fine what it is. In Beetlejuice's shabby handwriting, there is a recipe. "Nana Margie's cookies (For young men who need to grow)" and "Nana Margie's Chicken Soup (For young men who are sick)" You look at him and get nothing but a sniffle and a "She wanted you to have that. So she could help you grow." You've never hugged anybody so hard in your life. Those recipes are framed and hang in your kitchen. They're used more than you ever thought they would be.
•Slowly, you warm up to Beej. He's a gross, insensitive rat man. But he's your rat man.
Okay it's over now- I just thought this was really cute- So cute that I might make a part 2?? 👀👀
Mabye-
Alright! That's it for this time! Take care of yourself and remember to wash your hands! See y'all Spooky Cheerleaders in the Neitherworld! Peace out!
PS. Sorry for the horrid song lyrics, the regular ones didn't fit the situation, but I still wanted the gag there, so I had to improvise :')
#beetlejuice x reader#beetlejuice#x reader#x male!reader#x male reader#beetlejuice the broadway musical#beetlejuice the musical#fluff#beetlejuice fluff
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This is just going to be me rambling about weird gender confusion don’t mind me~
I always liked unisex or guys’ t-shirts, and I know that in of itself doesn’t say too much about a person’s gender. Guys’ shirts are usually bigger and have cool stuff on them, so I just like wearing them. They’re not super clingy and make up a bulk of the shirts I own.
Now, I’m noticing I like going to the guys’ section of clothing store websites. That’s not some huge tipoff for gender, either. But, I kind of feel like I’d enjoy dressing more masculine than feminine. I don’t like skirts and I haven’t worn dresses in awhile, and I’d like to keep it that way. When I try to look up styles for like dark academia (I like that sort of look, don’t have enough money to really get into it of course), the bulk of people wearing it are women with like skirts or more feminine looks, which is fine, but I’m not really into that.
Clothes have no gender, of course, so wanting to style myself in more “masculine” clothing doesn’t automatically mean I want to be a guy, but thinking about it sort of segues me into thinking about other stuff I’ve noticed.
Tik tok is a big reason I’m kind of feeling confused because of the content there. This one video was talking about phrases trans people may relate to, and the phrase “I want to be feminine like how a guy can be feminine” stuck out to me. I thought of the bookish, awkward “nerd” characters I like. I usually get attached to the “smart” character that isn’t as masculine as the others, or the chaotic characters or grumpier characters who also might not fit in with typical, traditional masculinity. They were always my favorite. I’m always drawn to them. There’s also those “pictures/things that give me gender envy that may confuse cis people” videos that I don’t think I’m that confused by. I don’t know exactly how to articulate it, but I think I understand those videos. The last thing from tik tok that kind of go with this post is me always liking videos of afab nonbinary people or transmascs and their style. There are so many cool people on tik tok who have these amazing outfits and sort of vibe to them that I’d love to be able to replicate if I had the confidence. All of them are nonbinary or transmasc, though, which is why it stuck out to me so much.
Another thing is that idea that, when you ship two characters together, one is usually the person you’d like to be with, and the other is your idea of you (I hope I said that right). I don’t think that’s the same for everyone, but I do notice my enjoyment of ships where it’s a strong, confident woman with a more anxious, bookish nerd character. I’ve never really found myself personally attracted to the latter, but I haven’t explored the idea of being attracted to the former, either. And with my enjoyment of nerdy/chaotic/grumpy/etc. male characters who lack traditional masculinity, that also made me wonder about my gender.
I didn’t really think of this all that much, just in passing and shrugging it off, saying “well I’m fine being a woman, no dysphoria here and if there is any discomfort with my womanhood it’s from the issues women face in life and in the media or whatever.” This little snowball rolling down the hill and building up didn’t really start until after reading “The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” actually. I really related to the idea of repressing parts of yourself and always acting a certain way for the approval of others (aka John Mulaney’s “I need everyone all the time to like me so much” bit), so I understood Dr. Jekyll’s struggle. That whole deal got me back into gothic horror and that whole aesthetic, which led to me looking for masculine dark academia looks, which of course resulted in this whole ramble of...whatever.
Then I thought about my name and pronouns. I don’t remember what brought it up, but one day I was thinking of the name “Jekyll” as a first name. I thought, ‘well that’s a nice first name, it’s a bit masculine but it’s also kind of androgynous, isn’t it? It’d be a nice first name.’ Then I considered one of my friends introducing me with that name, and a very strange, possibly positive but awkward feeling came out, and when I really noted what I had just thought and felt it felt like when a movie pauses itself or does a record scratch. What was I thinking? Why did I feel and think that?
And then the other day I was letting the dogs out and I thought about the pronouns “she/her” vs. “they/them.” I thought, ‘the pronoun “she” has a bit of a harshness to it, with the “sh” sound. “They” is much softer, smoother. It’s really nice, I think.’ There I was, stopping myself again because WOAH there what the heck am I thinking about?! It’s so weird.
Lastly we come to my own characters. I had this sort of self insert OC for a show I used to watch who looked almost exactly like me. Over time she became more separated from me, acting more like her own character in her own story, and she became more androgynous. Her hair is shorter, she’s thinner and taller (more like those non-masculine male characters I often like), and she’s flat-chested. Now, I’m flat-chested, too, but in this case, whenever I think about what she might look like under her clothes, I imagine a completely flat chest. Like a cis man. This character who used to be a self-insert looks so different now. And I wonder if she’s still, subconsciously, a self-insert.
I wanted to say, “maybe I’m still just a woman who is getting caught up in the rising number of nonbinary people and thinking that I’m something I’m not.” But, as I was typing it, I didn’t really like referring to myself as a woman. I tried to delete that and replace it with “girl,” but that didn’t fit right, either...I’m worried I’m not treating this correctly, not thinking about it right. Because there hasn’t been some big revelation, just some thing I think about but brush off and continue on with my day. So I can’t really tell if it feels right. But, I’m not sure if it feels wrong?
My family and living situation don’t help. As I write this my dad just got done watching a video of some kind and said in a really sarcastic voice, “Uh huh, black lives matter.” And my mother asked me if I’m bisexual a long time ago after talking about some people we know who identify that way, and when I said no she responded, “thank God.” So I don’t think I’m in the best scenario to have space to really think about this.
#Shmuzzie rambles#this really is a ramble huh#I was going to end this a bit more positively but my dad said that as I was wrapping it up and wow that sure tanked my thoughts
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Elle can you explain what goth is? Google is really inconsistent and I’m having such a difficult time understanding it. When did you find out you were goth?
Definitely! This is a long response just so you are prepared. =) Goth is a music-based subculture. You are correct… Google is not a good resource for discovering what goth is. Unfortunately, a lot of “goth” guide books aren’t either (I know one of them features a lot of emo bands?). First off, let’s just get out of the way what goth is not. Goth is not emo or metal. Avenged Sevenfold, My Chemical Romance, and Pantera are not goth. Goth is not white supremacy. Yes, those of us with naturally pale skin sometimes strive to keep our skin tones light, but goth is a home to people of all skin/hair/eye colors. Anyone who says you can only be a pale, white person is disgusting. Goth is not associated with any religion, philosophy, political inclination, or specific belief system. There are Christian, Hindu, Atheist, New Age, Shinto, Muslim, Republican, Democrat, Green Party, pineapple on pizza, no pineapple on pizza goths. You get my point. =)
Wearing goth fashion does not make someone goth, no matter how great the outfit may be. I (and most goths, elder and younger) define goth as someone who has an intense interest and passion for goth music. That’s it. Sure, most of us will gravitate toward darker aesthetics and like to wear the fashion when we can, but it is absolutely NOT a requirement. That is what google gets so wrong. One of the goth ladies I know spends 80% of her time in scrubs. She loves her job as a nurse practitioner and she has to have a more conservative look while she is working. She can’t wear the fashion more often than a couple times a month. She listens to goth music every day and is super knowledgeable about it. Is she goth? Yes. Conversely, I know a lot of teenagers who are trying to figure out who they are (which is TOTALLY FINE). They actually do a really great job of diy-ing goth looks, but they do not listen to goth music at all. Most of them listen to metal, emo, or country music. Do I consider them goth? No. But I do not judge them for it. Music is about what speaks to you and goth is in no way superior to any other musical taste.
With the rise of “pastel goth” and fashion trends on tumblr/social media, I think a lot of people get misled. This is why it is so important to have some level of contact with the actual goth community. Covid showed us that it is possible to do this online! We can attend online goth nights, get the set lists and analyze goth club music trends from our homes, and have zoom dance sessions! I really love the flexibility and versatility that the pandemic revealed to the goth community… because a lot of goths don’t live in cities with a big goth scene.
How did I discover I was goth? By beautiful accident. =) I was 15, and I struggled to have any level of autonomy or self-expression at all. I grew up in a conservative family (Christian/religious) cult. That rabbit hole runs deep and is a separate story for another time. The point is that I had very limited contact with the outside world apart from my private school, church, and Christian-group violin lessons. However! I received a nano ipod from an extended family member for Christmas one year. I copied a bunch of CD’s from Christian acquaintances at my church and filled the ipod up with the generic contemporary Christian and overstimulating broadway musicals endemic to the culture around me… it was all I had. Then, one day I discovered a goth band. I had no idea they were a goth band. I was obsessed with their sound. I can’t remember which platform I found them on, but I remember I did not have a video with it… so I’m thinking I was on the itunes store. I had chills and for the first time every something felt “right” in the music world for me.
Goth music begets more goth music… Itunes recommended other bands like the one I had found. I only had the money to buy a few albums over the course of a year, but I would retitle the songs and albums as Christian or Disney compilations so that my parents would never suspect what I was listening to (they regularly went through my ipod to make sure I wasn’t listening to anything worldly). One day, I was listening to some of my goth music with another confirmed atheist at my private Christian school and he was like, “OMG I had no idea you were a goth!” I was super confused and was all like, “No, I’m not. I don’t even know what that is…” This guy was a metalhead, but he had a ton of goth friends and he gave me my first thorough education on everything goth. I was 15 at the time, and it was not until nearly 4 years later that I would escape my family and truly come to integrate in the goth community.
Long story short, I started out with the music with no clue about the fashion. I think I was very fortunate in that because it gave me time to develop my musical preferences and tastes without feeling pressured to fit into a tiny little box. Later, when I was free, I did develop a goth wardrobe and (of course) decorated my house in a dark romantic/Victorian style…. But I never felt like those things were vital to who I was as a goth. I’m really thankful for that.
Please understand, that I do not want to erase the incredible goth fashion magicians out there or diminish the hard work someone may put into their personal look or aesthetic. The goth aesthetic is the heartbeat behind the unparalleled, transcendent feeling I have in a goth club or just in my own bedroom. It definitely adds to the experience. All I am saying is that those things alone do not a goth make. I also grew up obsessed with (gothic) Victorian literature... it took me awhile to put 2 and 2 together for that one too lol.
My controversial opinion here is that I do believe that some level of gatekeeping is necessary to keeping goth alive today. Unfortunately, it is an endangered species as subcultures go… this is not because there are not any goths. It is because the mainstream has appropriated it and defined it as fashion ONLY, which then confuses people who go to the surface level of the internet to get answers… which then creates a whole following that erases what goth truly is.
However, I need to explain that when most people refer to gatekeeping, they are talking about bullying. I am defining gatekeeping as providing a definition for the heart of the goth movement and sticking to it. Bullying is never acceptable. Ever. The example I employ a lot utilizes musical genre as an example. Let’s say you put on a Carnifex t-shirt and wear it a lot. But…. You don’t listen to metal because it just is not your sound. You don’t talk to other people about metal music, seek out the aesthetic, have more than 2 songs on your phone with metal music, or (want) to attend metal events. Are you a metalhead? No, of course not. But are you inferior to metalheads because you choose to listen to classical and hip-hop music? No, of course not. Another example: Let’s say you don’t like coffee. You don’t regularly drink it, read about it, or have an interest in it. Are you a coffee enthusiast? No, of course not. Are you inferior to those who do drink coffee? No, of course not. But it would be ridiculous to feel pressured to fit the mold of a coffee enthusiast, right?
It is never wrong to define what something is and to stick to your guns on it as long as you do not cross over into elitist territory, thinking you are better than everyone else. That is the point I want to get across here. Goth fashion does own my heart, but I also sometimes dress in dark academia, cottagecore, dark mori, and even in 80’s retrofuturistic styles when the mood strikes me. It does not change my involvement in the goth community or erase my love for goth music.
Lastly, a question I get a lot (and I have addressed this in previous posts) is, “I am obsessed with goth music… I have a wide knowledge base that I have spent great amounts of time developing and it is my life… but I also like Lil Peep, Lady Gaga, ‘gothic’ metal, and Lana Del Rey. Am I still goth?” The answer is YES. Of course you are! Loving goth music and being obsessed doesn’t mean you can’t like other things. Anyone in the goth community who tells you have to ONLY listen to goth music is full of crap. Eighty percent of my ipod is goth music… I am lucky to have thousands of songs. (And by the way, if you cannot afford a lot of goth music, you are not less goth than the rest of us. Listening for free is just as valid.) The other twenty percent is classical and synthwave/cybersynth/retrowave/darkly inclined/spacewave/video game sountrack/cyberpunk-inspired stuff. Am I any less of a goth for also being obsessed with the retrowave community or for listening to bands that are darkly inclined but not quite goth? No, of course not. Also, you can be darkly inclined without being goth, and that is just as beautiful. =) My husband is darkly inclined and likes some goth music, but he is more involved in the horror community. He is no less valid and freaking awesome than I am.
I hope this makes sense! This is a subject I feel passionate about. Just to recap, the pillars of fashion, gothic literature, and general aesthetics are valid in the goth scene and contribute greatly to the structural integrity of the whole. However, the soul of goth is in the music. I have hearing loss myself and have a couple of friends who are completely deaf who also agree that the music is the soul of goth. The way they engage is by reading the lyrics and even going to goth clubs when they can to dance and feel the beat. =) I think that is beautiful and so amazing. Hearing disabilities do not disqualify you from the goth scene- anyone who says they do is garbage.
Here are a couple of videos explaining a bit about what goth music actually is. Let me know if you would like more resources! Angela Benedict did a video where she answered the question, “Can you be goth and not like the music?” Her answer is also no. She is a great youtuber to watch because she was there for the 90’s goth scene! It is so fun to hear her stories and learn about the elder goth generations. <3
Goth music is not just goth rock… there are SOOOOO many subgenres under the massive umbrella that is goth. It is a big universe to explore. =) If you would like a list of some of my favorite goth bands AND goth adjacent bands, then I can do a separate post for that- just ask! Thank you for tolerating my info-dumping. =) <3
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tKDo_j0O-hA&t=116s – Accumortis on goth music
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BGj3CuAeW1w – Angela Benedict on goth music
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zg3HwuFlGeU&t=587s – Angela Benedict on defining goth
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the secret history live blogged
forever mad that i got spoilered so much on this book.
anyway hello! and welcome to this … shit fest of the secret history by donna tartt aka the biggest letdown of my life
enjoy! i didn’t
ok whaatttt the fuck. he was walked over?? he was packed and squished under ice?? WHAT DID THIS BUNNY GUY DO TO MAKE Y’ALL SO MAD????? istg what the fuck. cruel cruel fate
four against one, i knew y’all were assholes. you sounded like assholes before i even knew what your names were.
i have to say, i’m not a very big fan on the beginning: hello, my name is richard, i am 28, this is my story. makes it sound like he’s in an AA meeting, but i’ll let this one slide.
years at home dispensable like a plastic cup? fictional history and upbringing tales? [*clears throat in relatable*]
my father was mean, my house ugly, my mum didn’t give me attention, must kill someone to cope and serve the aesthetic™ of rejected, unloved child, brooding and mad at the world. got it.
if richard, plain and poor is the one who kills the rich asshole bc he’s a rich asshole, i might relate to him more than i thought.
[*slams book shut*] okay. okay. am i gonna have to google every other phrase in this godforsaken history book or is donna gonna go easy on my ass?
sounds like a university i would love to go to. oh, pardon me, CoLlEgE.
wait, they’d pay him back for the plane if he GOT IN??? and if he didn’t well then what, soz dude, tough luck , such is life, see ya never? makes a lot of sense. should pay him back regardless imo but hey, i had to pay £50 six times to audition at universities who, all six times, rejected me, so.
three days on a bus and arrival at six in the morning? i cannot fathom a worse scenario.
this prof conducts his selection on a personal level rather than on an academic one, said with a note of sarcasm? is he … you know … ?
ahhhh these saucy saucy tea spilling french people, gotta love em. ‘listen, i know i’ve only met you three minutes ago, but i’m bout to spill some serious tea which i must ask you to keep to yourself and never mention for i have some formidable enemies in the literature division, yes, my very own department, but we all actually love each other. you know, in a very shakespearian ‘i shall murder you at the end of the play but for now, let’s make sweet love under the stars as a witch friend of mine who will later murder you watches’ way. all very platonic. but don’t say a word of it.’
who do you think was with morrow when richard came to see him in the lyceum and what were they talking about? GODDAMN IT, this french bastard put me in a gossipy mood.
bunny — short for edmund…….
god, i love a redhead.
richard and me being whipped by francis and his long, flapping black coats, love to see it.
‘pseudo-intellects and teenage decadents abounded and black clouting was de rigueur’ can I enrol ~now~????
francis talks to cats and bunny yells from his window down at the incest twins to stop snogging in the garden. i can’t wait to see which one am I at the end of the book
henry and julian driving off together? do i smell something…. gay?
THEY WRITE WITH FOUNTAIN PENS????? [*flashbacks from my childhood intensify*].
i do not understand most of these references or sentences and if the whole book is like this, i will throw myself out the window in attempted suicide even though i live on the ground floor.
i have absolutely no idea what they’re on about.
hwhat
francis in black cashmere and cigarette smoke brushed past him and almost touched his arm. how bloody delicious is this??
‘give him some flowers and he’ll enrol you.’ ok, julian is definitely the gay prof everyone falls for.
at this stage, i would rater have voted we kill henry, not bunny, but we’ll see.
‘i was tired of being poor.’ [*buys a tie with pictures of men hunting deer on it*] ‘that’s better.’
‘i believe that it is better to know one book intimately than a hundred superficially.’ donna tartt gave me the book and the reason both.
constantly chuckling at the way richard is so completely mesmerised and intimidated by francis to the point that he’ll duck into a doorway to let him pass even though they’re going to the same lesson.
I don’t know how a ‘bostonian voice’ is supposed to sound like so francis will be slightly british in my mind for the rest of the book.
cubitum eamus? cubitum. eamus? CUBITUM?? EAMUS????? OH! GOD! HELP ME! THE SWEET SWEET HOMOEROTIC FORESHADOWING OF IT ALL!!! throwback to when, in a much too similar vein, boris, upon being asked by theo to say something in russian for him, he said ‘fuck you up the ass’. my heart is racing with yearn. i can’t fucking believe i just read this. it’s time to bust out the annotation tabs again.
oh my gooooddd whAt is henry’s problem????? he reminds me slightly of number one from the umbrella academy, but in a meaner, more show-offy, bastardish way that’s supposed to showcase his superior intelligence over all mortals like fuck you, go read harry potter and chill.
‘meke (s.p.) you Wear it’? i take it meke is actually make but what on earth is (s.p.)? google gave me 238 possible definitions for that acronym and, needless to say, i didn’t bother.
i love how donna’s main characters are funny essentially bc they’re bitches towards other people they deem inferior to them in their internal monologues.
if you were drunk and ‘slam-dancing’ at a party, i don’t have to be stuck up or elitist to judge you and hate on you. even less so if you throw your beer in my face.
‘love that jacket, silk, isn’t it?’ ‘yep, my grandfather’s. totally not from that annoying girl in my dorm whose mate your mates beat up at a party last term for shoving camilla and throwing a beer in her face and who probably only gave me the jacket because she wants to fuck me, nope.’
‘let me get that door for you.’ that’s it, that’s the tweet.
when bunny said they should round up the ‘officious fags and burn them at the stake’ i yelled the loudest what the fuck i’ve ever yelled at a book. i can see now why they killed him. and i bet that’s only the tip of the iceberg.
okay, his true colours are starting to show. it’s even more unnerving when i think about the fact that like half of this stuff is supposed to be true.
called it, they’re boning.
i can’t wait until francis locks lips with richard. i am simply tingling for it. i hope he and camilla have a threesome with richard at this country house. oh wait no, they’re all here. eh, maybe another time.
oh, we finally get some juicy inside gossip
if francis and richard don’t fuck in that gorgeous immense library, i will riot.
okay, what’s henry’s deal? he’s nice now? and he’s oddly … interested in/caring towards richard? like who the fuck says ‘i hope you slept well’ without at least a little affection towards them.
AHAHAHAAHA, NOW I GET ALL THOSE MOON LANDING QUESTIONS ON THE TSH RELATED UQIZZES I STUPIDLY TOOK. I CAN’T BELIEVE THIS IS REAL. imagine them lot in present day completely bewildered and confused at the fact that the whole world is in lockdown for some weird fucking reason. this is the funniest shit ever, swear to god.
dogs get heart attacks?
wow they’re being dicks. that shady shit they’re doing’s so fucking rude aajksdhfkfh and to think i had initially thought richard was the ‘leader’ of their group...
okay, they’re either all into bdsm or they’re some odd breed of late vampires who don’t have much of the traits/qualities of ‘classic’ vampires as they have possibly diminished over the centuries as the species was becoming extinct. maybe witches. hm. or occultists. I REALLY DON’T KNOW!!
richard be like ‘what should I tell you?’ well—and this is merely a suggestion—, how about you start with what they’re actually doing when they’re not hanging out with you?????
i can’t wait for bunny to figure/find out richard’s not actually rich and be a dick about it.
two months??? what kind of bonkers winter vacation between terms is that???
is being constantly cold part of the dark academia aestehtic? cos it certainly seems to be.
what the fuck are these (sp)s bunny keeps putting in his letters??
i hope somebody (henry, or maybe francis? as something that would bring them together?) is fake rich too.
ouuuuu here comes the dark, mental stuff.
richard dropped out of drama to study the classics. if we were villains is a group of people studying shakespeare. coincidence? i think not. it is with dread that i think at the possibility that i might like the other more because so far, i can’t say i’m heavily impressed with tsh.
now i’m all for weird, fancy names, but marchbanks is really an odd one. who the fuck looks at their newborn baby and goes ben? nah. tom? no. MARCHBANKS! perfect.
henry winter saves richard from a piping cold winter. ah, don’t bother, i’ll do it myself [*jumps out the window*]
henry dislikes electric lights? smokes cigarettes without filter? reads milton translated into latin ‘just to see if a language with no noun cases could possibly support the structural order he attempts to impose’? can this dude be any more pretentious?
BUNNY! IT’S BUNNY! HE’S FAKE RICH THE BASTARD! ALL THAT ‘oops, forgot my wallet’ BULLSHIT, I THOUGHT IT WAS A TEST FOR RICHARD OR JUST RICH PEOPLE LEECHING OFF OTHERS (why spend yours when you can spend theirs?) BUT NOOOO, HE’S BROOOOKE! AND AN ASSHOLE! WHAT AN ASSHOLE!!! serves him right, the asshole (that gay people being burnt at the stake comment really bothered me despite the fact that i laughed). and not only is he broke and leeching off of henry, he leeches in the most shameless, greedy, extravagant and ignorant way, ordering the most expensive thing on the menu fuck out of here.
ha! he got fat the bastard. found some sugar daddy to sustain you during your last month in italy or what?
this rabbit dude sure has some big balls for a broke ass bitch.
‘let me see your head wound.’ vs ‘your arm.’
‘that sort of tension which i, being rather more disinclined that way than not, am quick to pick up on. i had caught a strong breath of it from francis, a whiff of it at times from julian (…)’ sounds like we got another one boys, a straight dude with the best gaydar in the world. that being said, julian is the fakest bitch in the book so far.
this secrecy is killing the ever-loving shit out of me. argentina one way?? whY
lol if you’re gonna steal his book with the intention of having him come back to the apartment and see all that shit, at least don’t put it in such an obvious place where he couldn’t have possibly missed it. for such a smart guy, you sure are dumb, dude.
francis’ mother be like ‘give that bad boy a kiss from me’ and i’m like HE BETTER.
richard the worst liar. just say your mum called for fuck’s sake! you could get your boyfriend in trouble!
cheesecake cover: ‘please do not steal this, i am on financial aid.’ bunny: [*steals it*] the cheesecake: [*sucks*] me: serves you fucking right, pig.
THINKING ABOUT HIS HANDICAP. I’M YELLING. funniest thing donna tartt ever wrote.
i bet they’re all there sat at the table like nothing happened and weren’t supposed to leave anywhere at all.
called it! motherfuckers.
what the hell is going on. are they a gang of assassins or something?
richard: ‘you killed somebody, didn’t you?’ henry: [*laughs as if it was the most ridiculous idea in the world and how could you possibly suggest such a thing*] yep
bunny: gays are weirdly obsessed with food, don’t you think? also bunny: [*gets excluded from the bacchanal because he couldn’t stop eating*]
okay. i can see now why this book started the whole dark academia aesthetic
aight, that’s all good and great (far from it) but WHERE IS MY FRANCIS CONTENT????
going through the motions of hating and liking henry every other chapter.
everybody: [*burning clothes, cleaning the car, running this way and that to get rid of evidence*] francis: aight y’all imma take a power nap real quick cool? cool
there is hardly anything in the world i hate more than loose-of-tongues. bunny and that bitch ass hely from the little friend. god, i want to sock each and every single one of them in their stupid bloody loud mouths.
i want to know, i really want to know if there are any bunny apologists or … s…. s… [*grits teeth*] stans out there. don’t worry, nothing will happen to you, i just wanna talk.
if it’s henry and richard and not francis and richard,,,,, i will riot.
boy this henry guy smokes a lot…. more than me in my prime.
as if this dude reenacted the murder he wasn’t even present at in the lobby of a hotel just to torture henry. i can’t believe this character is still alive and has been for so long.
FINALLY! one francis moment that indicated there will be no more francis moments…. .
funny that, reading the secret history put something into perspective about the goldfinch for me.
i love how richard just casually throws it in there whenever he happens to mention camilla that he loves her and wants to kiss her and that she’s so beautiful and blah blah blah and then it’s never brought up again ever because he’s constantly going on and on about henry.
wait, don’t tell me it’s happening now, in the middle of the book! that would be most unexpected as there’s a whole entire book following.
henry is such a stone cold bitch, i wonder where they put his heart when they made him, in his ass?
don’t tell me henry went boxer dogs on JULIAN?!?!?! he wouldn’t. … would he?
i don’t know. i get it, obviously, the gravity of the situation, but going as far as killing him to silence him is a bit … extreme in my opinion.
thank you, charles, for being the only voice of reason in this madness.
okay, i understand it’s in richard’s best interest not to be involved, but they called him there to what, make him listen to all this and then send him on his merry way?
charles: well, if you wake up intending to murder someone at two o’clock, you hardly think of what you’re going to feed the copse for dinner. [*crickets*] francis: hey, how about asparagus?
henry: someone’s coming. quick! act normal! richard: [*turns to inspect the trunk of a tree*] [*footsteps approach*] richard: [*inspection of tree intensifies!!*]
you’re a bit late, bunny, just saying.
and now what the fuck is the rest of the book about? what do we do, let’s run, let’s stay, let’s go to the police, what do we do with him?
i love how richard describes himself as part of the process: we dwelt on it, we convinced ourselves, we devised plans when in reality, he was only there as an attaché, he wasn’t included much, almost at all in the actual planning process of it other than to give his insight on the poison route because henry thought it was his area of expertise so to speak when, really, it wasn’t and then was told about the other plan because they simply thought he should know. even then henry tells him ‘you can go now, if you like’ because there wasn’t anything they sort of needed him for anymore since he wasn’t going to be there, he was just a pair of ears. i like to think he was there in hopes to maybe dissuade them, try to stop them, tell them how mad it is, tell them there’s another way, but he didn’t do much of that either (not that I think he would’ve succeeded anyway, had he tried, henry’s one stubborn motherfucker). he didn’t come up with shit, he wasn’t supposed to even be there, i think, much less contribute in any way. had bunny not told him about the bacchanal, richard would have probably found out about it after it was already done, he was only included for the fucks of it and yet, he talks as if he was right there in the room with them, brainstorming ideas how to kill him. and i get how it only comes from a sense of obvious guilt because he knew about it, he was there and didn’t do anything to stop it, but he’s by far not one to have agreed to the whole thing or condoned it in any way from what he’s told us in book one. he himself says in the very same paragraph that he only watched. he’s very much a dark academia nick carraway type of character and i hate it. because i like him. he deserves better.
i’m pretty sure that the reason that serial killer autobiography you picked up in an airport was bereft of details is because no publishing house would allow such lurid specifications that might shock, disgust, enrage or give ideas to the reader in their book, not because the author is shy, richard, but ok, let’s move on. actually no, let’s not. you can’t expect the autobiography of a killer to only tell you about the murders, especially since in this particular instance, he was caught and went to prison. of course he’s going to tell you more about that than the killings, have you any idea what prison life is like? how much it eats away at your soul? how it crushes your spirit if you have one and how hard it is to get over? the time he spent in jail is going to haunt him forever and after such a long time in there, however long it was, you hardly think about your crime as anything but a huge mistake that was not worth the torment if you’re not a downright psychopath which, since he came out and wrote a book about it, doesn’t seem to be the case here but i guess you’ll find out all about it soon enough.
OH! a francis moment???? could this be it? please dear god may this be it.
it wasn’t, but there’s another one!
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
‘it’s fun, i promise you.’ [*dies*]
if this is it, if that’s all, i am not forgiving this book.
‘i tried to pull him out but it was no good; his head lolled back uselessly’ YEAH. BECAUSE HE’S DEAD, RICHARD. [*scoffs*] ‘uselessly’
i wish i held any of my teachers and professors in at least half the high regard henry holds julian. i also wish they were half as competent and passionate about teaching as julian.
I DON’T BELIEVE ‘HE WAS JUST THERE’. IT’S BORIS AND THEO AT 6 AM IN THAT NEW YORK BAR ALL OVER AGAIN. HE’S ONLY SAYING THAT BECAUSE RICHARD WENT ALL ‘YOU’RE NOT HOT’ ON HIS ASS AND I REFUSE TO BELIEVE OTHERWISE. if they don’t kiss again—
i can’t help but admire the way they communicate sensitive information to each other in ancient greek, they sound like characters from jane austen novels while talking about drugs and saving face from tabloids and gossip, it’s rather amazing.
quite pointless to go through all that trouble to hide the cigarettes and deny having been smoking when the smell will be there no matter what and she’ll know for sure. i swear, all these seemingly smart ass people are actually idiots
my question is why would anyone, drunk or not, for any reason, leave the top down in the rain? why? what possible pleasure could one get from driving in the middle of the rain with rain actually pouring down on them?
isn’t linoleum a bit tacky for a house that looks like it’s been in architectural digest?
why is charles so on edge? why are they all always hiding??? camilla and her late night 3 am phone calls, her secret phone code with henry, charles mysteriously going out for cigarettes so brusquely without a word in the middle of the night and refusing to talk about it, what are they all always hiding?! nobody trusts one another with anything, it’s very annoying, to be honest. aren’t they supposed to be super best friends? you’d think that after a bacchanal and a double homicide, you wouldn’t keep secrets from one another, but i guess not.
ah, shame. was kind of hoping for some sneaky richard/francis basement action, but alas. what’s their ship name anyway, richis?
i just spoilered myself again, twice, by going through the tsh tag on tumblr and then looking for francis/richard fanfics on ao3 and finding out that francis marries? gets with? a girl who’s apparently called fucking priscilla. donna tartt really has a knack for weird fancy names, huh? i’m here for it tbh
richard you fucking snitch! you had one job!!!!!!
why the fuck are they still keeping him in the dark about shit? henry and charles quarrelled and charles is in jail and henry still won’t tell him what’s so bad about it and why he wants richard to handle all this shit instead of him and why bunny’s murder still matters and why why just why are they still using him as their pawn??
seriously, this exchange was about the worst they’ve had so far. he himself knows it: ‘there was a silence during which I felt acutely the hopelessness of ever trying to get to the bottom of anything with henry. he was like a propagandist, routinely withholding information, leaking it only when it served his purposes.’ THEN WALK AWAY. SAY NO. PUT YOUR FOOT DOWN. FUCKING—UGH!!!!!!!
they’re all so shamelessly using him… i can’t read. it’ll kill him, one way or another.
these ungrateful little shits i swear to god. richard bails him out, he’s all thankful and sweet when he wants him to do ‘this one little favour’ of taking him to his francis’ house so he can break in and when richard’s like i don’t have a car, he immediately turns sour and passive aggressive like you know what?! richard hasn’t slept all night and all morning waiting for your ass to go to court cos you were a drunken idiot and decided YET AGAIN that driving in that state is a great idea so he can bail you out and when you are finally out, you start being fussy and then it’s all ‘right. thanks a lot’??? richard doesn’t fucking need this shit! y’all are horrible friends. he’s not your bloody servant. how about you take that stick and privilege out of your asses and start treating him a bit more kindly, huh???
‘henry made me swear not to tell.’ WHAT. WHAT. BITCH, GET THE FUCK OUT.
this is by far the most toxic friendship i’ve ever heard of.
oh wow that kiss was hot. i thought it was just a speculation that they were incestuous with each other, but i-i guess not.
FINALLY it gets interesting. Mr Abernathy spilling some piping hot tea mmm
he literally just said i’d sleep with you if you got drunk enough to let me. oh dear god help me.
oh fuck it got sad. It’s patrick and brad all over again ugh always happens to the best of gays
finally richard my boy starts hating them, as he should. except francis, you’re a dick in that respect. he’s only joking for fuck’s sake, don’t get all butthurt, jesus. sensitive much?
uuuuuu tunts Tunts TUNTS! shit is hitting the fan. henry, henry, henry, our ‘golden boy’. nothing but a crook himself, the motherfucker. i’ve been waiting for this reveal since the beginning of the fucking book. if they gang up on him and kill him, i will never stop laughing.
it’s as if he’s begging to be excluded and hated, i swear. why is he being such a prick? does he love her? is that it? then there are a BILLION other ways to go about it, he doesn’t have to be such a shady bitch!! besides, wasn’t he in cahoots with julian?
‘i was depressed, i thought if i slept here it might make me feel better.’ that’s so precious tho….. funny, but precious. such child-like innocence in this grown ass intoxicated man, i melt.
clever, luring him out of the playground under the false pretext of a drink when he’s had plenty. think like a drunk
the only consistent, recurring and ever-present elements in donna tartt’s books are the hors d’oeuvres.
it’s so cute how charles needs him, i—
girls be like: watching a film, listening to a podcast, talking on the phone, having dinner, figure painting, filing nails, writing an essay and doing their makeup all at the same time
this so called love he feels for camilla is so unfounded and feeble and just … it seems so out of the fucking blue every single time he mentions it, i can’t read this shit. IT’S SO SEE-THROUGH!!
okay WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK DID I JUST READ. WHAT. THE ACTUAL. MOTHERFUCKING. FUCK. one second he’s ‘i love her so much’ the next he wants to strangle and rape her?????????????? i have zero goddamn words. i am fucking speechless. i don’t think i have ever been this confused at something since i watched the turning. i don’t think you realise quite how done i am with this fucking book at this point.
i think i do hate henry more than bunny and i’m afraid i’ll like if we were villains better.
richard: [*takes sleeping pills*] also richard: [*surprised he can’t keep up with the film he started watching after taking sleeping pills*]
‘look,’ said francis. ‘let’s just go, if we leave now we can be in montreal by dark. nobody will ever find us.’ vs ‘well, i’m not going,’ said boris serenely. ‘fuck that, i’m running away. do you want to come?’
this henry bitch is the most difficult piece of shit i’ve ever fucking encountered. ‘you mean, it’s something you need to tell me in private?’ oh FUCK OFF AND STEP OUTSIDE, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. IT’S ONE THING I ASK OF YOU, YOU TWAT.
huh, i thought he was doing this shit on purpose, leaving the page face down on the table so that julian could see it, i thought it was some sick twisted plan of his.
lmao called it. everybody saw through julian’s façade except richard and the others and i completely understand. in a fashion much like julian’s, i think he knew that, he saw it, but just chose to ignore it because the image he posed and richard himself constructed of him in his mind was much more favourable to what he really was. i mean, fuck, who the fuck says ‘i hope we are all ready to leave the phenomenal world and enter into the sublime’ with their whole chest and mean it?
if you think he’s not coming, why sit in silence staring out the window, ignoring everyone and wasting everybody’s time instead of telling them from the very start this piece of information you have on hand that could save everybody a lot of trouble, time and overthinking? why be all mysterious and enigmatic about it? just tell them from the start, you’re not in a film for fuck’s sake……..
charles, one of the four of them (henry, camilla, julian and himself) might be the one i despise the least, almost like had he not been so brutal towards camilla,,,, but i don’t know if i can trust her, that whole scene seemed … staged somehow. i don’t know. i don’t know
didn’t expect henry would turn on julian too though. first real thing he’s done all book.
agatha
christie
writes
good
mysteries.
richard does seem like the type of fellow who would grow up in a household where his dad would strike his mum for no fucking reason.
okay so did henry punch him for that comment or not? what was all that father beating mother bit for?
#boysweekendinthecountry! 🤪 #partytime! #ignoringourproblems! #woooo!!!
oh my fucking god chARLES!!!
yes, henry, great, brilliant, fucking splendid idea to antagonise the man pointing a gun at you.
MY PAUL SMITH SHIRT!!!!!!!!! AHAHAHASFSHDGFDK
i love how absolutely nobody noticed fucking richard BLEEDING RIGHT NEXT TO THEM
‘expected everyone to stop and look at me. no one did.’ and they never will. that’s your whole friendship summed up in two lines. you don’t matter to them, you never did, you’re absolutely unimportant. just a tool, a pawn, a nobody. sorry you had to get shot to realise that.
‘’he shot me.’ somehow, this remark did not elicit the dramatic response i expected. before i had the chance to elaborate—’ ELABORATE WHAT? ELABORATE WHAT?! THAT’S ALL YOU NEED TO SAY!! GOD, this hurts to read. this angers me beyond words, but it also fucking hurts so bad…
nothing, not even getting shot can make richard lose his wit
disGUSTING henry and camilla moment. I HATE THEM
oh shit. did not see that coming. well, glad that’s over.
ugh, time to read how francis got hetero married :\
[*chokes*] DUE TO THE VERY EXCELLENT EXCUSE OF HAVING A GUNSHOT WOUND IN THE STOMACH I DIDN’T TAKE MY FRENCH EXAM YAY!!! god, i fucking love Richard.
the thing is, right, i read that line, ‘i managed to get out of taking my french exams the next week’ about three or four times and somehow, the following line or even the words ‘gunshot wound’ never made it to my eyes! i don’t understand how! but i’m completely happy about that given the fact that i spoiler myself on every single book i read by reading ahead like an idiot..
how much do you want to bet that it was the inn keep who called the ambulance and not those fuckers? because of course henry, dead henry’s more important than slowly dying, almost dead but not quite richard.
despite everything, it sounds like he had a nice summer in brooklyn. good for him. god knows he deserved it, the poor guy.
yeah no, fuck henry’s post-mortem hero narrrative.
lol, at least he got a nice car out of it. this book shows me once again that things happen just the way they should happen.
OH MY FUCKING GOD NO. NO. NO. NO. NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!! I CANNOT READ. I DO NOT SEE. I REFUSE TO COMPREHEND THIS PIECE OF INFORMATION.
i will not say a WORD on this, much less his letter. i am hurt, i am wounded, i am grieving, my head is full of thots and i cannot speak. i died on this bed.
ugh [*rolls eyes*] this fucking guy again with his sudden, out of my ass declarations of love towards camilla. JUST GIVE IT UP ALREADYYYYYYYY!!! TELL IT TO SOMEONE WHO CARES!!! (francis) i wouldn’t be surprised if she was married or engaged and just didn’t bother to mention it ‘because he never asked’ or some bullshit excuse like that.
I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY I HATE HENRY [*deep breath*] I FUCKING HATE HENRY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
he’s telling me about all these people and where they ended up after graduation but not only do i not give a single solitary fuck, i actually don’t know who the fuck he’s talking about?? like who the fuck is bram guernesnesnica? rooney wayne? what the fuck do i care what jack jud and frank did?
the only people i do remotely care about are the professors (the saucy french teacher and the boring, senile dude who wouldn’t shut up and who kept referring to richard as ‘jerry’ in his grad school recommendations letter ahahah that is the content i signed up for, not dumb and dumber’s bar or whatever) and the cat charles left at francis’ country house who lives in a ten fucking room apartment in boston.
love how ionic the whole marion storyline turned out to be. marred another corcoran who looked just like bunny and had a daughter who, despite having her and his mother’s name ended up being nicknamed also bunny. i’m sorry, i just—i have to laugh.
[*slams fists on the table*] THE AGENTS??? YOU’RE GONNA TELL ME ABOUT THE BLOODY FBI AGENTS???!!!!!! CAN THIS BOOK PLEASE JUST FUCKING END ALREADY??????!!!!!!!!
a dream. a dream. if it’s a dream of henry i will personally shoot you and make sure i aim a little higher than your abdomen this time.
[*shoots the book*]
oh, you died and suddenly you have a sense of humour?
‘that information is classified’ [*shoots a torpedo at the book*]
‘are you happy?’ / ‘not very.’ vs ‘are you happy here?’ / ‘not particularly.’
okay. so. final thoughts: fuck this book.
good night
#jaden reads tsh#and probably never will again#my expectations were too high i think that's my problem#but even so this book was a whole ass mess#i WANTED to like it#i wanted to like it so bad!!!!#but i'm sorry no#it's just not happening#jaden talks shit#tsh#the secret history#donna tartt#long post#not tgf#richard papen#francis abernathy#charles macaulay#camilla macaulay#bunny corcoran#henry winter
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AO3 Author Tag Meme
I’ve used FFN since 2005 and still do, but lately it’s almost entirely to update 1 Naruto story that’s also cross-posted on AO3. For this, I’m using my newer, more frequently used AO3 account, which has the Naruto story and a handful of others.
AO3 Name: UmbreonLy [Umbreon if it was an adverb?]
Fandoms & # of Fics: 4 Fandoms, 7 fics
Naruto (link) 3
Haikyuu (link): 2
My Hero Academia (link): 1
Star Wars Sequel Trilogy (link): 1
Final Fantasy VII Remake (1 coming soon I swear to god)
★・・・・・★・・・・・★・・・・・★・・・・・★・・・・・★
Fic you spent the most time on: Chasm (Naruto, Sakura-centric, pretty dark) has technically been going since 2015, though I didn’t post it till 2018! I started it as a oneshot for MadaSaku week 2015 and it became far too big, which is my most common fanfic problem. I adore it though.
Longest Fic: Chasm. 4 chapters and about 75k words. Chapter 5 is in progress and has about 2k. Chasm has always had very long chapters which I love, but the disgustingly slow updates are making me consider chapters in the 6-8k range instead of 11-14k.
Shortest Fic: Dragoneyes. About 5k. I saw a MadaTobi aesthetic/moodboard post with dragons in it, made by a total stranger, and decided to write fic about it, because I love those characters and I love dragons. It felt fun to write something random, unconnected, barely structured...made me feel like one of those peeps who write 500 word prompts on a whim. Even though it took two weeks.
Most Hits: The Long Walk, about 7400 hits. Chapter 1 of an MHA fic I’ll never finish, where ABO is a worldwide epidemic that caused mass panic and destruction before people started to settle into the new ways. Pro hero and newly minted alpha Bakugou comes across quirkless(????) Izuku in a random danger zone, but quirkless Izuku acts deeply suspicious. Written because I hate PWP ABO, wanted to put a plot into that trope, and wanted a tense and evenly matched fight scene between an alpha and omega. The fic is mostly Bakugou and Midoriya stepping awkwardly around their bad past relationship and beating each other bloody with ABO trimmings, and I think people appreciate that mix.
Most Kudos: The Long Walk again. Every day I check my email eagerly for chapter updates on stories I like, replies to reviews I’ve written, reviews/comments on my own stories, but three out of every four AO3 emails I get is a kudos alert for this story.
Most Comment Threads: Probably Chasm.
Fave Fic you wrote: I love Chasm...but Darcia (Haikyuu fantasy AU) makes me proud in a way that feels unique and so worthwhile. I rewrote this thing 8 or 9 times across 6 months, struggling, succeeding, failing, hating my work, actually crying at least once because I felt so inadequate...and at the end came away with Chapter 1 of a story that read like a crown jewel to me. It has JUST the vibe and words I wanted. It’s a piece where the struggle was actually worth it.
Fic you want to write: Gonna write a FFVII Sefikura fanfic where legitimate SOLDIER Cloud Strife comes to Midgar and slowly, with trepidation and confusion, gets close to respected General Sephiroth, who, at the point of gaining Cloud’s trust and love, begins to drop larger and larger hints that he had evil machinations all along and will now possess and keep Cloud like a puppet.
Share a bit of a WIP or share a story idea you’re planning:
Excerpt from wip possibly titled “Day of the Navigator” , a Haikyuu horror/space AU. Iwaizumi Hajime is an astronaut, or “navigator”, who was preparing to help evacuate Earth from incoming predatory aliens when the aliens came early. He is forced to flee Earth alone but is soon followed by a party of different aliens who bear a strong resemblance to the Seijoh team and alien Oikawa is going to break in and fuck him.
Tried to write with a “distant, vague” POV because I thought it might help cover more events in less time/paragraphs. This was a good idea because at first this was a oneshot for IwaOi Horror Week. In October 2019. It’s still not done, goddamn me. I don’t love the writing of this scene but MEHH
-
They stalked him.
He tracked them by their body heat and by the vibrations they emitted. They floated around the solar panels like eels through coral. Their claws tapped along the hull, their heads butted it. When they came too close or when a careful maneuver of the controls was possible, the navigator pushed back. With drills, hammers or projectiles, he punished them for their bullheaded pestering by mauling them.
Once their bodies were torn, they floated limply away—for a while. Even when he shot wires into their flesh and electrocuted them till their flesh started to cook, they returned. Once two of them drifted into range of extraneous thrusters that burned them till they cooked entirely. Their crisp bodies floated end-over-end into space. Two more of them whirled frantically about them as they floated away.
Godspeed, cunts. Hope you die.
They never did.
Each part of the body crushed or torn returned, even if it took weeks. Even bodies ripped in half grew back or stitched together again. And after one period of many weeks, he could not put off a walk to the water filtration tank any longer.
He kissed Tory the tyrannosaurus and set him on an elliptical to wait for him. Iwaizumi would find him happily in the gym once he was done. He suited up for a spacewalk from the midpoint of the ship to the aft end.
The airlock door opened. There was nothing around but a drifting comet in the far distance, silent and white. He was safely alone in the infinite dark.
The journey was quick, unfettered. Past the soldier-like battalions of solar panels, past the engine block and heavy storage armor. Three-quarters down the ship by the aft was the main water filter. Its panel came unlocked easily, dispensed easily, took a replacement receptor easily. From this view, the ship’s many dents and scars were visible. Nothing had ever come close to rupturing, but there were dozens of minor dents from impacts with debris and—and predators. His skin crawled under his suit.
A sudden alarm in the helmet told him to run for his life. The predators were coming.
Iwaizumi followed the route faster than ever before: hand over hand on the handholds, nearly requiring the air jets to realign himself when he missed one and nearly floated off. None of the creatures were in sight yet.
Take me to victory, Ushijima had said, so he did not stop.
Iwaizumi instead took himself off the usual route to a different airlock entrance than usual. It was closer, but with a longer code required for entry. While he punched digits into the panel, the alarm in his suit sounded quadruple signals of four unique heat signatures.
He foolishly spared a glanced up. One of them was crawling between the forest of solar panels above. Atop its head was brunette-colored hair. It was the outcast attacking first, pupils shrunk to nothing.
The airlock opened and Iwaizumi pushed inside with a helpless cry that fogged his helmet.
Over his head there was metallic clattering and bumping as the being crawled down the hull to him—no, two of them did. One of them grabbed at his suit as the door automatically closed.
Iwaizumi’s mind quit all efforts, longed to faint. It left him to protocol instead of thought—he twisted in the thing’s grip, executed a lean maneuver to flip and kick the attacker in the chest. There was a harsh vibration pulsing into him like an indignant scream near his head.
He rocketed into the airlock foyer, unable to breathe. He struck a wall. The door closed and sealed but he still wasn’t breathing.
Air was evacuating the suit through a horizontal tear in the arm. Pressure was returning to the chamber at the same time, beating on his ears and throat. Iwaizumi collapsed to the floor. The helmet fell off and hit the tiles with an undignified clank-clank-CLANK.
Outside the little window in the door, a man’s face looked in: the red-mouthed outcast, now with narrowed brown eyes and an open, conniving mouth with lips. It was a face he’d seen as a boy many a time when he had time for play, when he cared about sports. It was the face of a rotten bastard looking at him through a net, who’d almost seen a cheating plan to fruition. And it was the knowing smile of a man plotting. Finally the navigator, too, became knowing.
How foolish to label this one an inept outcast. How shortsighted, to not see that it danced with danger first and most often, received the most wounds and that it led its pack in these hunting parties in pursuit of him. It had followed him and brought the others to follow him. It knew how to smile. It was truly intelligent life, almost human in its persistence. Its humanity made the animal nearly able to capture and destroy him.
Take me to victory was such a fucking stupid thing to say when he had nearly been pulled away from his escape and into an open mouth. The smiling thing twitched its fingers by the round window to catch his attention. Its hand briefly seemed to be inside the glass.
Iwaizumi squinted his eyes and recognized that he was beginning to hallucinate, that his heartrate was lightning-fast and nauseating. His arms and legs shook so hard he could not control them. He gritted his teeth and tried to move them anyway, watched by the leader of the hunting pack. He rose by grabbing the nearby staircase railing and pulling forward. With it, he began a stiff, horrible walk up the short metal stair steps to the hall beyond.
The walk was short and then the railing was gone and then he could no longer stand. After turning the corner, he fell onto his knees. He sat just out of sight of that window, shaking for hours and then days.
-
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Blue Crystals
Warnings: Implied rape
Words: 7804
Jun scrolled through Instagram as he walked slowly through the chilly classroom halls. After going through classmates’ aesthetic photos, Sailor Moon cosplay, and colorful recipe videos a bright photo of a soft swirl ice cream appeared. It was sitting in a blue and white striped cup with light blue sparkly sprinkles shimmered all over the white swirl.
Jun eyed at the pretty ice cream and looked through the hashtag. There were already aesthetic photos of the new flavor pouring all over the tag. There was even its own hashtag of people cosplaying as Elsa with the matching confectionary. He clicked on one of the of photos when suddenly the entire world went dark.
“Guess who?” Hands covered Jun’s eyes and he almost fell over by the surprise.
He touched the knuckles and smiled when he knew whose hands belong to. “Tuxedo Mask, is that you?” He pulled the hands away and turned around to see a grinning Ruki scratching his head.
He put his hands on his hips and puffed up his chest. “Not as handsome but yes it is I, Tuxedo Mask!” Ruki laughed nervously after making an embarrassing motion.
Jun giggled and without thinking he hugged him. He hadn’t seen his best friend in so long because of how busy they both were. Especially during the fall season which was at its highest peak and the soccer team’s reputation was on the line. The only time they could really converse was through text or social media. However, because of Ruki’s extreme practice schedule he could only give out a good night text to Jun when Jun waited all night for him to come home safe. Jun felt Ruki’s arms wrap around his waist and held him tighter. “You’re just as handsome as Mamoru shut up,” Jun mumbled proudly knowing he was right as he rested his chin on Ruki’s shoulder.
Ruki chuckled and moved his face to look at Jun without letting him go. His smile was so lovely that it was probably the best thing that happened all day from this cold overcast weather. “How are you doing?” He asked softly. “I’m sorry I haven’t been able to hang out. I didn’t expect soccer season would be intense this year. Our new coach has some… interesting tactics.”
Jun jumped up. He loved hearing everything about Ruki even if it was things that he wasn’t familiar with like sports. “It��s okay! We can talk about it when you’re more free. And you know I’m busy too because we have been training new recruits to our speech and debate team.”
Ruki eyes lit up and slid his hands back to Jun’s wrists and set them to their side. He caressed his fingers across Jun’s knuckles gently. “I want to know about them! Did you find any potential speech stars?”
“Yeah I think so! But we can catch up when we both are free… I missed you.”
Ruki didn’t seem to hear the last thing Jun said but stared at his hand with his phone. He brought the wrist up and looked at the screen and then looked at Jun. “What is this?”
Jun snatched his hand away and turned redder than he was from the piercing cold. “Uh… it’s the new ice cream flavor at Rail’s…”
“Oh my God! We went there for one of our games! Their curly fries are so good by the way. I didn’t know they had ice cream! Wait can I see?”
Jun showed the official Instagram page of the restaurant and tapped over to the ice cream post before showing it to Ruki. Ruki wrapped his arm around his shoulder and Jun realized he was resting his head on Ruki’s shoulder. But Ruki was looking extensively at the phone screen. “Huh… that totally sounds like something you’d get for your Instagram,” Ruki teased.
“No it’s not that! It just looks really good and cute!” Jun retorted.
Ruki laughed. “I know. I’ll take you there and we can try it.”
Jun looked up at him with wide eyes. “Wait seriously?”
“Yup. We need a new place to hang out anyway.”
Jun could feel his heart beating so fast. For some reason this felt like he was offering a date. If only he really was dating him he would have kissed him but he held himself back. “Okay! Maybe then we can catch up- oh also there’s this new show that’s out and it’s called My Hero Academia and it’s really good and-”
“Yo Ruki!” Ruki and Jun turned their heads down the hallway to the source of the booming voice. Manny, one of the forwards of the soccer team, waved his arms with Alex walking up behind him and trying to put his arms down to calm him. “Our meeting is about to start come on!” Manny called again.
Ruki sighed and he pouted at Jun. “Aww I really wanted to hear about this new show.”
“I’ll text you the info later if you want!”
Ruki buried his face in Jun’s shoulder and nuzzled his forehead like a clingy child. “I’m just so sorry… I really wanted to see you.”
“Me too…” Jun replied softly. “But we will right?”
Ruki perked up and nodded. “Most definitely! I promise.”
“RUKI COME ON!” Manny roared which caused a bunch of heads to turn in the hallways.
“ALRIGHT MOM GIVE ME 5 MORE MINUTES!” Ruki roared back. He flashed a cheeky grin and gave a slight wave as the other two boys shook their heads and went into the classroom. Ruki turned to Jun. “I’m really sorry I’ll make it up.”
“Just go it’s okay.” Jun nodded and stroked Ruki’s arm for reassurance. Ruki nodded back and started jogging towards the classroom with his hands in his sweater pockets. For some reason that made him look really adorable. Another thing to add onto Jun’s list of the things he loved about Ruki.
_______________________
Despite it being short, Jun still was happy to see him regardless. Of course he wished it was longer but fate had other things in stored for them. Jun didn’t realized that he had the biggest smile on his face while scrolling through his messages on his phone when Maya slammed her hands on Jun’s desk.
“Jun!”
“Y-yes?” He stammered as he quickly put his phone face down.
Maya blinked. “Were you looking at porn?”
Jun gave her a serious look. He rested his chin on his hands and batted his eyelashes. “Do you really think me, of all people, the cutest and most innocent person in the world, would look at that?”
Maya thought for a second as she put her hands to her chin. “Yes. You're a big contender for watching all the nasties.”
Jun frowned. “How dare you.”
Maya laughed. “So anyways, I was online and I saw this hilarious video and-”
Before she could say anything else, another classmate Neha came up behind Maya and tapped her shoulder. “Hey Maya you coming?”
Maya perked her head to the side. “Coming to what?”
Neha took a step back and had a confused look on her face. “I posted all over social media that I’m having a party tonight. The soccer guys will come with drinks. If you know what I mean… but you in?”
Maya shrugged. “Yeah sure, why not?”
“Alright I’ll see you at 7 then.” Neha was about to leave when she saw Jun and hesitated. “You should come too.”
Jun only responded with nodding but she didn’t even see as soon as she turned. “I don’t think she really meant that.”
“I don’t think she really means anything to anyone so don’t worry.” Maya retorted back.
“But are you going?” Jun asked.
“Probably we will see how much my ambivertness will lead me. Do you want to go?”
“Uh maybe…” Jun looked back at his phone and quickly sent a text to Ruki.
Jun: Hey so Neha says she has a party tonight and mentioned the soccer team is coming with drinks are you going?
“Alright well let me know if you’re going. At least I will know one familiar face if I go.” Maya whipped out her phone and started tapping. “Anyways, this is the video….”
________________________
________________________
Jun was one of the first people at the party. He sat on a couch in the basement feeling incredibly isolated with his red cup of water. He kept checking his phone going back and forth at his conversations with Maya and Ruki if they were coming or not. He hated being in situations where everyone knew each other except him. He knew of them, but not well enough to bring up his courage to have a conversation with them.
His phone buzzed and it was from Maya.
Jun sighed silently. Now he had to stay with a bunch of people that he didn’t know or wasn’t comfortable with. He hoped Ruki would get here soon but he didn’t want to send another text to look annoying. Even though he texts him everyday he still had those tight anxious feelings.
A girl with long blonde hair flung her body on top of the backrest of the couch that startled Jun. He looked closer and realized the girl was Romy, one of the more outgoing and popular girls on the cheerleading squad. Romy looked up and flashed a boxy smile. Jun could smell from her she probably had some alcohol in her system already. “Hey I think I’ve seen you before? You hang out with Ruki a lot.”
“Jun,” Jun quipped. “I’m in your English class.”
“... 6th period?”
“Yup.”
“... Oh yeaah Jun! You’re the kid that argued Mr. Roberts about that one jungle book.”
Jun winced. That was not his proudest moment that he almost made his teacher mad over the symbolism in The Heart of Darkness and he wouldn’t stop talking until he made his point final. It was an embarrassing moment for him. “You remembered that?”
“Yeah the way you talked was so cool! I wish I could talk as smart as you.” Then she peered closer and the alcohol smell intensified. “Wow you know, you’re really pretty up close! Is that why Ruki hangs out with you a lot?”
“Wh-what?!”
“Hey do you know his type by the way?”
A roar of loud cheers echoed through the entire house. Everyone around them looked up and started walking toward the stairs.
“Hey the soccer team is here!” Someone shouted.
Romy whipped her hair up and started squealing as she jumped up and down. “Oh my God Ruki is here!” She bobbed towards the small crowd up the stairs.
Jun was the last one to come out. He headed over to the group of people that were crowded around the kitchen. The soccer team stood in the middle of the crowd as if they were a bunch of movie stars. Some of the players were chattering up a storm and others were having their arms around cute drunk girls. Jun scanned the crowd and saw Ruki standing behind Alex who seemed to be in a deep conversation with one of the stoner guys. Jun didn't know how to get his attention without looking like a fool except throw a small wave. He attempted but he didn't see him. Someone shouted to direct everyone back into the basement and Jun involuntarily moved his body with the waves of the crowd.
There were more people in the basement now and Jun felt like he had no choice except to sit back on the couch. He took out his phone and looked back at the stairwell to see Alex walking and talking with the same stoner guy and Ruki following him with a giggling and ditzy Romy clinging onto his shoulder.
Jun turned his head away. For some reason it made him sick to his stomach seeing someone treating Ruki like he was a toy. He got out his phone and saw that there was an unread message from Ruki.
“Jun?”
Jun turned around. Ruki finally met his eyes and nodded towards his direction with a smile. Alex also nodded towards him and seemed to motion Ruki to go over. He brushed off Romy and waved at her as he walked briskly towards Jun. “Is this seat taken?”
“No but it's yours if you start now at $19.99.” Jun smiled as he felt like his mood was starting to come back.
Ruki dug his hands in his sweatpants pockets and pulled out his wallet and opened it. “Aw dang it I only got a 5.”
“Fine. You can sit here. It's free on Fridays.”
Ruki laughed and sat close next to him. Suddenly everything became so much better because Ruki was here and he was right next to him. Jun didn't realize he was leaning a little next to him but it didn't matter now because he just felt so much better that he was finally here. Ruki turned to him. “You doing okay?”
“Mhm.” Jun nodded not taking his eyes off of Ruki’s beautiful dark pupils.
“I'm really sorry that we came late.”
“It's okay I got your text,” Jun replied. “Things like that happen.”
Ruki pursed his lips and closed his eyes as if he was slightly annoyed at himself. “I know but I still feel bad because you were waiting. I didn't want to keep you waiting for me.”
Manny shouted something that was followed with a bunch of cheers. He fisted a beer bottle in the air and popped the top open and started pouring into the cups.
Ruki turned back to Jun. “Do you want a drink?”
Jun held up his red cup. He laughed at Ruki’s horrified face. Jun would be the last person on Earth that would get hammered. “Calm down officer it's just water. But no I'm good. Are you going to go get one?”
Ruki shook his head. “I'm not really in the mood for it. I think I'm good.”
Jun continued to look at him as he set his cup down on the floor. Jun brushed his hand on Ruki’s forearm. “Ruki is something wrong?”
Ruki looked at him with a small smile but Jun could tell that his eyes were telling him something different. “Yeah I’m fine. Don't worry about it.”
“You say that and now I’m going to be worried.”
Ruki gave him a small smile. “I'll be fine don't worry. I think.. I just really missed you-”
“HEY LOSERS WE ARE PLAYING SEVEN MINUTES IN HEAVEN!”
The crowd shifted towards the couch area as they made a large circle with the couch included. Two soccer players sat next to both Ruki and Jun squeezing the two of them like the insides of a sandwich. Everyone else gathered around or sat in a circle on the carpet in front of them.
Neha held up an empty beer bottle and explained the rules. “Alright ladies and gents! It's time to get a little taste of heaven!” An echo of “ooohs” and giggles followed from the crowd. “Spin the bottle and whoever it points to is who you get to be with in that closet over there for seven minutes.” She pointed towards the door on the other side of the room. “Don't worry it's big enough just be safe! If you know what I mean…” A louder slew of laughter ensued. “Alright who's gonna go first?”
“Me! Me!” Romy shouted.
Whooping and laughter increased as the girls handed over the bottle. Romy rubbed her hands on the bottle in a suggestive way which excited the boys. She put the bottle in the middle of the circle and spun. Everyone kept their eyes glued on the bottle with cheering. The bottle slowed to a stop pointing to…
“Ruki!!” The crowd shouted his name in perfect unison that it made Ruki jump out of his seat. He looked at every direction and pointed at himself to make sure it was actually pointing at him.
Manny went over to the couch and slapped his shoulder. “Alright dude have fun!”
For some reason that made Jun’s heart sink to all the way to the ground. Air almost stopped flowing through his lungs like he couldn't breathe. Tears were about to form from his eyes until Ruki turned to him. “We are not going to do anything. I'm going to tell her that.”
“Ruki are you sure you want to do this?”
“Come on Ruki! Time is ticking!” One of the players opened the closet door to reveal that it was dark and cramped with shelves full of random junk. Romy strutted towards the door and waved at him.
Jun felt a hand on his shoulder. “Jun come with me.” Jun turned around to see it was Alex. Alex turned to Ruki. “Just go. I'll take care of it.”
Ruki nodded as if he understood what he meant. “Thanks man. I owe you one.” Then he turned to Jun and nodded. His eyes seemed to say to trust him and Jun had no choice but to accept that.
Ruki walked over to the closet as the soccer players scooted both him and Romy into the tight dark space. Neha started the countdown as soon as the door shut. “Have fun guys! Don't get too crazy in there!” she called to them.
Alex motioned Jun to come with him to the back of the basement as far away from the crowd as possible. The rest of the party goers were too busy cheering them on from outside of the closet or drinking more beer. Jun tried to turn his head away but it was making his heart accelerate into a cold sweat. “Jun are you going to be okay?” Alex asked. He wasn't very good at showing his emotions but after know him for about a year Jun could tell he cared despite his cold exterior.
“Yeah…” he lied.
“Listen Ruki is not going to do anything to her. He knows how to keep his limits and he won't do anything stupid. He doesn't want to make you upset-”
“Why are you telling me all of this?” Jun snapped. Alex raised his eyebrows because he had never heard Jun raise his voice like that. “I am not the one in control of what he wants to do it's his life it's his choice.” Jun realized how loud he was when the room got quiet. He turned around and it seemed like people started to give up one by one. He turned back to Alex feeling really guilty. “Sorry.”
“It's fine. I just…” He looked into the distance trying to find the right words. “I know Ruki isn't that stupid. And… he really really cares about you. Like a lot.”
Jun looked at him quizzically. “What do you mean?”
“Like… today even. He got really annoyed that practice went over time. He's usually pretty serious when he gives out instruction but he looked like he was mad. He was almost yelling at everyone to hurry up. Everyone was really uneasy too. When I asked why he said it was because he didn't want to keep you waiting.” Alex took a big sip from his cup as if the beer was just water.
Jun couldn't believe that Ruki was actually annoyed that he wasn't able to see him sooner. Before he could ask Alex anything else a drunk soccer player came up and put his arm around Alex. “Hey Alex who's this?”
Alex nodded towards Jun. “That's Jun. Ruki’s boyfriend. The one we were talking about.”
“Alex!” He could see Alex snickering in his cup. “Don't listen to him I am not his boyfriend,” Jun huffed over his already hot reddened face.
The soccer player laughed and waved his hand. “Nah dude the team always jokes that Ruki has a lover because everytime he looks at his phone he looks like he's smitten so we thought he had a girlfriend but Tom over there saw your name so we joke that you're his boyfriend.” Before Jun could process everything he just heard the player took his hand out and tried to be as formal as possible. “I'm Elgar by the way. I'm the second best on the team.”
“Third. Ruki is the second best that's why he's co captain.” Alex corrected him nonchalantly.
“Okay whatever. Third best.” He said raising up four fingers as Alex put down his pinkie finger to end up with three fingers instead.
The rest of the time Elgar started to talk about his practice routine and his bizarre dreams about being chased by a fly monster that Jun tried hard to pay attention but the idea that Ruki was still in the closet with a drunk girl was on his mind. He battled in between thinking everything would be alright and something happened. But if something did happen to Ruki what could he do? It would have already happened and he wouldn't have any control over it.
“3… 2… 1!” The crowd chanted followed by loud cheers. Jun whipped around to see Neha whip the closet door open. Romy jumped out of the closet looking all dizzy and happy with messier hair like she had the most amazing time of her life. Ruki looked like the exact opposite. He stared at the ground with his hands in his pockets. It was hard to see from the dim lighting but his face looked really flustered and red like after running a marathon. But he also had a look of discomfort and agony as if he went through something horrific. Jun tried to tell himself that his hair wasn't that messy and it was dark so that's why it came out like that.
A couple of guys went up to Ruki and put their arms around his shoulder and started chatting with him what seemed like rounds of congratulations. Ruki only looked up and gave them a smile and one word answers.
Jun found himself walking over. Alex reached out to grab him but he followed him before Jun would do anything rash. Alex grabbed Jun’s wrist and said, “Hold on give it a bit.”
Jun looked back at Alex looking at him with confusion. “Why? He's done.”
“Hey man where you going?” The guy that had his arms around Ruki asked as Ruki pushed him away.
“I just need some fresh air. It was really stuffy in there you know?” Ruki stormed out of his way through the crowd ignoring everyone toward the stairs.
Jun yanked his wrist from Alex before Alex could call out to him. He hurried after Ruki but he couldn't see him anywhere in the house. He walked towards the living room ignoring the gross couple making out on the couch and towards the front door. Outside, Ruki was leaning against the railing on the porch staring out into what was left behind of the setting red sun behind the roofs of the suburbs with the stars starting to appear high above the dark sky.
Jun silently closed the door behind him. When the door locked Ruki turned around and smiled. That sweet smile that made Jun smile back as if it was their secret language. It was finally cool and quiet with just the two of them. The party was behind them now and finally they were alone together. Jun walked towards him as Ruki looked back out into the distance. Jun also mirrored him by slouching on the porch. The sun seemed to sink deeper into the rooftops before the last ounce of light disappeared and it was only the beginning of the evening.
A shiver went up to Jun. He brought his hands up and rubbed his own arms.
“You didn’t bring a warmer jacket?” Ruki asked. There was a slight tinge of sadness in his tone.
Jun had on a light zip up jacket over his thin t shirt but apparently it wasn’t enough. “I thought it would get warmer,” he said as he pulled his arms in tighter. “I get cold easily.”
Ruki chuckled. “I know. And I always tell you that you need to bring a heavier jacket because you’re so thin.”
Jun pouted. “It’s not my fault that I can’t gain weight anymore.”
Ruki got up and locked his arms around Jun. Jun couldn’t stop his giggling fit as he squirmed to get out of Ruki’s arms. But it was so warm and cozy that he felt like this was the safest place in the universe. “You’re right it’s your fault for being so thin so now you can’t get anywhere.” Ruki couldn’t stop smiling as he rested his forehead on the side of Jun’s golden hair.
Jun loved it so much when Ruki did that it felt so intimate even though Ruki was probably playing. Jun scrunched his head up and pretended to be in distress. “Oh no help. I’ve been captured.”
“That’s right. Zhang Junming you’re mine!” Ruki tightened his arms even more around Jun like a barricade and Jun giggled as he turned to face him and wrapped his arms around the waist of Ruki’s plushy sweater. He wanted to be like this for as long as they can, forever if it were possible.
Jun rested his cheek on Ruki’s shoulder. He wanted to ask if anything happened in the closet, but he could feel from him that maybe he didn’t want to know. He didn't know how to even start to ask. In fact, it may have been better to not know what had happened. It might have ended up differently than their relationship now. Even if Jun did find out what difference would it make? It was just one stupid teen game anyway. The Ruki he was with right now, the one that holding so close to him, was the Ruki he knew, not the one five minutes ago.
“Hey,” Ruki spoke softly in Jun’s ear. “Didn’t you say you wanted to try that new ice cream flavor at Rail’s?”
Jun looked up at him feeling the empty cold air from where the warmth of his cheek was. “But isn’t late? And it’s ice cream in fall…”
“But that’s the second best time to eat ice cream! The first one is in the winter.”
“Ruki,” Jun started but Ruki already let go and started heading towards the street. “Can we really just leave the party like that?”
Ruki turned back and called, “If you don’t catch up to the car I’m going to pay for it!”
Jun started sprinting but Ruki already beat him to the car. Jun tackled a laughing Ruki and both of the boys started holding each other for dear life and laughing until their sides hurt.
__________________________
The ice cream was even more magnificent in real life. Pictures didn’t do justice. The ice cream spiraled a perfect swirl with the perfect curl at the top. The sparkly blue sprinkles really did look like it was part of the creamy mixture. It really was like the ice cream version of crystals. It was so pretty and sparkly that Jun was afraid to even poke it.
“If you don't eat it now it's just going to be in a big puddle of shiny goop,” said Ruki coming back from the counter with hot tea.
Jun looked at Ruki wide eyed. “But it's so beautiful. What if I break it?”
“It's meant to be eaten. What else is its purpose?” Ruki took his spoon and rested his head in his hand with a sly smile.
Jun took his spoon and pressed it against his lips. “To look pretty for Instagram?”
Ruki laughed. “Oh my God you would say that.” Then he reached into his pocket to get his phone. “Speaking of Instagram…”
“Wait.” Jun put his hand on Ruki’s arm to stop him but he moved his phone to his other hand to open up the app. “But then everyone would know that we aren't there…”
Ruki scoffed and closed his eyes. “Who cares… no one is going to give a shit,” he muttered.
Jun’s heart almost skipped a beat. That was so unlike something Ruki would say. “Ruki…”
Ruki extended his arm to angle the perfect selfie. “Look up Jun.” Jun looked at Ruki’s camera to see himself and Ruki trying to angle most of the pretty ice cream. Jun quickly posed a peace sign with the spoon awkwardly in his hand. Then Ruki slid his other hand sneakily behind Jun’s back and wrapped gently around his waist and pulled him lightly to get closer in the picture. Jun tried not to show that he was getting red again but kept as cool as he could for the picture.
After a couple of snaps the boys looked at the pictures. Ruki hadn't left his other hand around Jun’s waist but he tried not to think of it. They looked at the photos and landed on one that looked the best out of all of them.
“This one.” Jun pointed. “We look cute in that one.”
“Yeah.” Ruki agreed turning to him. “But you're cute in all of them.” Jun probably lost conscious for five seconds after hearing that. After deciding on a filter they agreed that it was ready to publish. “Let me write the captions and tags. Go ahead and eat first.”
Jun sighed, sad that he had to poke into it. He scooped out a piece and tasted it. He widened his eyes at the first second the confectionary touched his tongue. A shiver went through his whole body but it was a good shiver. It started off extremely milky and creamy that melted so neatly with the after taste of cool fresh mint.
“How is it?” Ruki asked after setting his phone down. He held his other hand around Jun’s waist little tighter and caressed it with his thumb gently.
Jun scooped another bite and nudged the spoon at him, Ruki smiled and leaned down and chomped the whole scoop.
Ruki closed his eyes for a moment to indulge and process the taste. A quick shiver went down his whole body that he let go of his arm around Jun. “Oh man! That is so good! It’s so minty and extra cold!”
“Right?” Jun took another scoop of the ice cream and playfully taunted the spoon of shining blue creamery in front of Ruki’s face. He leaned in before Jun pulled the spoon back into his own mouth in one bite. He shivered at the initial icy bite when the chill moved up to his brain. He scrunched his face at the cold pain. “Arrrg.” He put his forehead on the table trying to internally fight the piercing pain.
“Brain freeze?” Ruki chuckled.
Jun could only nod in pain.
Ruki pushed his steaming mug of hot tea. “Don’t eat it too quick it’s not a race. Here is some ailments to heal you from being frozen.”
Jun turned his head to look up at Ruki who was already scooping himself another bite of the ice cream. He took both of his hands around the warm mug and brought himself to sip the warm bitter tea.
The boys took their time taking in each scoop of the ice cream, sipping tea, and even the basket of curly fries that Ruki ordered later. They sat and talked about whatever was on their mind, even stories of what was going on with the activities they were doing at school. Jun listened intently at Ruki’s locker room gossip and laughing at his attempt to imitate the other players’ distinct voice. When Ruki finished his part of the conversation there was always this silent communication that gave Jun the signal for him to say whatever was on his mind. And as always, Ruki was always listening and commenting when he needed to. Jun finally told him about the new shows he was watching and complaining about all the late night studying he had to do that he realized this might have been the most he’s ever talked in a long time. When he was with other people he was usually closed off like he didn’t want people to get into his life because he felt like he so different from everyone else that people would be turned off from it. But with Ruki, it wasn’t like that. He could tell him anything and he knew Ruki wouldn’t judge or think differently of him. It was a feeling of comfort, something that he cherished everytime he was with him. This was one of the reasons why he loved being with him.
When they were done with the food they noticed that they were the last ones in the entire restaurant. The sun was completely gone with only the street lights that started blinking to life. After a shy bus boy asked them to leave for closing, Ruki turned to Jun suddenly and said, “Do you want to go to the beach?”
Jun blinked. “But isn’t late? It’s really dark.”
“Oh… does that bother you? I’ll be with you the whole time though.”
Something wasn’t right. Usually when it was really late Ruki would ask Jun if he was tired and encourage him to go to bed early. But he didn’t this time. This meant that Ruki really didn’t want to go home. But then again, Jun didn’t want to leave Ruki already either. He couldn’t believe how fast time went by in the restaurant that it felt like they just got there. Jun grabbed Ruki’s arm and nodded.
In a swift movement, Ruki slid his hands and laced his fingers around Jun’s and took him out of the restaurant on their way to the car.
_________________________
____________________________
After a quiet car ride in the dark, they finally reached their favorite spot on the beach. It wasn’t exactly per say on the sandy part of the beach, but it was a cliff that wasn’t very steep and perfectly overlooked the ocean and the rest of the beach. It would have to take a small hike to get to that cliff but was worth it because of the view and no one else seem to have found this spot.
The boys linked arms in silence to rely on each other’s presence in the dark. They listened to the rustle of the grass that glazed against their footsteps. When they reached the edge of the cliff they sat down. The moon was very big and bright that its reflection was so bright that the ocean seemed to sparkle. It didn’t make the night as dark as it was. Jun could see the white beach and the ocean’s crawling waves very clearly. It was such a beautiful sight that he wished that they could go to the beach more often at night. He will have to tell Ruki that later and maybe even more as an excuse to see him.
Jun rested his chin on his knees when Ruki took his seat next to him. “Let me know if you get cold. We can go back to the car.”
“It’s alright I’m fine,” Jun replied. He continued to stare at the scene in front of him. “It’s beautiful here at night.”
“Yeah it is,” Ruki agreed realizing that Jun was talking about the ocean and not himself.
There was a few moments of silence except for the rolling waves in the distance. It was nice that it was just the two of them and the sound of the ocean. Then Ruki broke the silence. “Hey, thanks for not asking what happened back there.”
Jun turned to him. Ruki didn’t look back at him he continued to look out into the distance. He wasn’t sure if the twinkle in his eyes was from the reflection of the moon or it was actually tears. “What do you mean?” He asked. But he knew what it was about, then Jun realized he shouldn’t have asked.
“I mean at the party earlier.”
Jun got up and placed his arms on the grass leaning back. “If you don’t want to talk about it now you don’t have to. You can tell me when you’re ready or even if you don’t want to talk about it you don’t have to.”
Ruki closed his eyes and laid back into the grass. He put his arm across his eyes as if he didn’t want Jun to see what his eyes were emoting. Jun felt like all of the panic rushed to his heart and throat.
“Ruki! Ruki are you okay? I’m sorry if I said anything wrong!”
Ruki grabbed Jun’s arm. Jun’s heart almost broke at the sight. It wasn’t the reflection of the moon that made Ruki’s eyes sparkle. Small tears started forming at the edge of his eyes. “Jun. You haven’t done anything wrong at all. You never have. You’re so amazing and wonderful sometimes I think I don’t deserve you.”
Jun could feel tears welling up in his eyes. He moved his hand and reached Ruki’s hand. “Why.” His voice cracked. “Why would you say that?”
Ruki stared up at the sky. Stars were beginning to appear even though they were hard to see against the bright moon. “Everyone assumes I’m supposed to act or be a certain way because of who I am. I know I talk to a lot of people, I know I get good grades, I know I’m decent at sports, I know I have a lot of girls that ask me out but it’s so overwhelming. It’s like they assume I’m that guy you know? They assume because of that I have to be that person that I play this role and it ends up not being ‘me.’ I’m just pretending to put up this mask in front of everyone because I have to live up to their expectations because they think I am that person. Because I'm ‘nice’ or whatever.” He sighed trying to hold back the tears. It took a moment before he could speak again. He closed his eyes as if he was trying to find the right words. “Romy was one of those people.”
Jun squeezed Ruki’s hand tighter. He tried to push back down the imaginary bile that was up his throat hoping that whatever he heard next wasn’t what he expected.
“I kept telling her no. I kept telling her I don’t want to do this. But she was so drunk. She kept saying ‘But I want this.’” He wrapped his other arm across his eyes hoping Jun wouldn’t see the tears coming down his eyes. “I don’t even know her Jun. I don’t know anything about her other than she’s friends with Amalia and Emily. Yet she kept... kissing me.”
Jun closed his eyes trying to hold himself back. He was prepared but not for what he was about to hear next.
“I kept pushing her back but it was so dark I didn’t want to hurt her either. But she wouldn’t stop. She didn’t just kiss me on the lips. She went everywhere… and….” His words almost became incoherent and Jun could see Ruki’s cheeks becoming wetter that he felt his own tears trickling down his face. “She pulled down the zipper and wouldn’t fucking stop blowing me. I couldn’t do anything I should have pushed her away more but it was like I couldn't move. I never thought… that could happen to me…”
“Ruki.” Jun laid down next to him and wrapped his arms around Ruki’s arm and brushed his forehead against his shoulder. He brought himself into an embrace with Ruki’s arm like curling up next to a pillow. He needed to calm himself down from sobbing as well. He never expected to hear this. It was much worse that he expected. “Ruki I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry it happened to you. You don’t deserve that. You really don’t deserve that. You of all people don’t deserve that to happen to you.”
Ruki turned towards Jun and wrapped his warm arms around him and touched his forehead against his. Now Jun could clearly see the tear stained eyes with blades of grass poking from his cheek. “Why are you apologizing? This isn’t your fault.”
Hearing this made Jun cry even harder. He wasn’t supposed to he was supposed to keep his composure to comfort Ruki. But he couldn’t control it. “But I didn’t do anything. I can’t do anything. Ruki I feel so awful I couldn’t do anything.” He choked in between words.
Ruki wrapped his arms tighter until Jun buried his face in Ruki’s warm soft chest. He kneaded small circles behind his back as he left Jun sob on his chest. “You’re doing plenty. You being here and listening to me is everything to me.” Ruki laughed softly but Jun wasn’t sure if he was also crying more. “This is why I love being with you so much. You’re the only person that doesn’t make me feel like I have to put on a mask. You let me be me. You make me feel like I’m safe and I don’t have to hide anywhere.”
Jun started shaking uncontrollably from the weeping and brought his hands up clinging on to Ruki’s chest. He couldn't believe that someone would hurt him and that hurt Jun more than anything. He held onto the back of his sweater tightly. He quickly wiped his tears but Ruki brought his hands up and gently wiped it for him. It was odd, he should be the one comforting Ruki, not the other way around. “Ruki,” Jun started after catching his breath. “Please. Tell me what you need.”
“What do you mean?”
“If anything like this happens again you have to tell me what to do and I'll do it.” Jun found himself more determined to protect the one he loved the most. His voice carried through that gradual shift of confidence. “I know you always give to others to make others happy but you need them too. You deserve to have the things you want and need. So if there's anything at all, please tell me. Even if it means I have to beat Romy or anyone up.”
“That won't be necessary,” Ruki said quickly. He brought his arms down to Jun’s hands and held them tightly. He rested his forehead again on Jun’s. Jun held his breath at Ruki’s handsome features but felt his heart weep knowing in Ruki’s beautiful eyes more tears were slowly streaming out. “You don’t have to do that for me.”
“Don’t say that!” Jun realized he raised his voice at him and held himself back. “Sorry… I just mean… you give and give to others so much that it will hurt you in the end. I don’t want to see you hurt like this and it’s so unfair that people take advantage of your kindness. You of all people don’t deserve any of that.” Jun could feel tears coming back that was holding him back from speaking in his throat.
Ruki looked shocked from the amount that Jun spoke. He chewed his bottom lip then asked, “Can you promise me you won't tell anyone?”
“Of course.”
Ruki sighed deeply and closed his eyes. A single tear trickled down his eye. Jun brought his finger and wiped it away with his knuckle. Ruki grasped his hand again and caressed it so slowly and so lovingly. “Can I ask you something extremely selfish?”
Somehow that pained Jun’s heart. “Ruki whatever it is I know it is not selfish. Tell me what is it?”
Ruki’s eyes widened in a state of shock. He closed them to let more tears stream down making Jun’s tears follow more. He brought Jun’s fingers so very close to his lips he almost brushed them. “Can you please stay with me? Just for tonight?” He whispered so softly that it was mixed in with the grass rustling in the gentle wind.
Jun brought up his composure, scooted up, and embraced his arms around Ruki’s head and let his forehead touch his chest. It was such a surprising movement that both boys tried to realize what happened. But Jun knew he wanted this intentionally. “I’ll stay with you as long as you want.”
Then he felt shaking underneath his arms. A muffled quiet sob emitted from Ruki. Ruki had always caressed his fingers around Jun’s hair and now Jun was the one to do that for him, It made him feel a little lighter as he comforted Ruki. “What if I asked for forever?” Ruki suddenly asked between his silent crying.
“Then I will stay with you forever.”
Ruki didn’t speak after that. But Jun could feel that he let himself cry because he needed to. How long had he been holding this up? It pained Jun to know that Ruki must have closed himself off like this for so long. Even though Ruki explained the mask he put on for others, he hoped that someday he will take off that final mask and let Jun in to bring him all the comfort he needed in the world. He stroked his hair in circles and without thinking he lightly kissed the top of his head. He buried himself in Ruki’s soft hair and wished to himself that he would never see Ruki hurt ever again.
#short stories#what is riot#writing#writingblr#original work#original fiction#my ocs#ice cream#ruki ayame#jun zhang#alex garza
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Home Is By Your Side
Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia
Relationships: Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijirou
Characters: Kirishima Eijirou, Bakugou Katsuki, Kirishima’s Mothers (OCs)
Other tags: Hurt/Comfort, Bedsharing, Bakugou Family Dynamics, Showering Together, Nonsexual Nudity, Nonsexual Intimacy
For the anon that’s been messaging me. Sorry I didn’t answer your ask last night, I was writing this :3c
— — — —
In Bakugou’s defense, Kirishima had told him multiple times that he was always welcome in his home. His mothers had echoed the sentiment, and really people shouldn’t say anything unless they were expecting to be held to their word — which they were. They just weren’t thinking Bakugou would take them up on their offer so late at night.
Admittedly, it wasn’t atrociously late, like past midnight. More around 10pm, which, while still too late to be socially acceptable, at least wasn’t so bad as to immediately alarm anyone. But still, it was a shock. He was just there. Standing in the doorway, wrapped up in a coat with his hands stuffed in his pockets and his face turned down into his collar.
Kirishima Akane, a lithe woman with long, dark hair, was the one that opened the door. She blinked down at the boy, then glanced back at her son, seated in the living room. “Eijirou…?” She asked.
“Ummm,” he started as he got up, unsure if he should be confused or concerned. “I wasn’t expecting — Bakugou?” His mom stepped aside to let him handle it, giving them a respectful distance while still remaining in earshot. “What’s up? You didn’t call, did you?”
Bakugou’s eyes lifted. The fact that he hadn’t been meeting Kirishima’s gaze in the first place made him worry his lower lip. “Forgot my phone,” he said, voice gruff. “I need a place to stay the night. If you can’t, it’s fine, I’ll find someplace else.”
Kirishima’s eyes widened, blurting, “No, no, of course you can — mom?” His eyes were huge and pleading.Akane put a hand on his shoulder. “Of course you can stay, Katsuki. It’s freezing out there, come inside.”
They shuffled back, letting Bakugou tromp inside with a mumble of thanks. Kirishima reached to take his bag, only raising his eyebrows when Bakugou first tried to jerk it away from him. Relinquishing the bag, Bakugou stooped down to undo his boots.
“Let me go tell Keiko you’re here,” Akane said, excusing herself for the moment as she disappeared upstairs.
Kirishima turned his head, giving Bakugou a small grin. “You’ve never stayed the night before,” he commented, beckoning for him to follow him up the stairs. “Man, it’s been years since I’ve had a sleepover! Dorms don’t count.”
Bakugou grunted. Which was… something. It didn’t make him feel any better, the quiet unnerving coming from him.
Kirishima dropped the duffel bag just inside his room. It wasn’t heavy, despite looking like it was stuffed full. With clothes was his best guess, judging by the dull noise it made when it hit the floor. “Ah, we don’t really have a spare bed,” Kirishima mentioned, scratching at his neck. “You okay with sharing?”
Bakugou’s jaw tightened. “I can sleep on the floor,” he mumbled.
“I mean you can but then by good host laws I’m gonna have to as well.” Kirishima rolled his eyes. “Options, man. You take the bed and I sleep on the floor, we both sleep on the floor, or we share the bed. But my moms are gonna think I’m some kind of a hooligan if I don’t let our guest have a bed.” He grinned, not quite seeing where Bakugou’s sudden reservations were coming from. His bed was more than large enough for two. And, it wasn’t like it would be the first time they’d shared.
Bakugou didn’t seem to share his humor, though, his brow only knitting tighter. “Yeah, but I’m not exactly a fucking guest, am I?” He grimaced. “That sure as hell isn’t what I’d call some dickbag barging in at fucking — ten thirty at night.”
Bakugou was a funny guy, Kirishima mused. He had no trouble cussing at strangers, but god forbid he intrude in another person’s house. It wasn’t an intrusion, of course. “I mean yeah,” he agreed amiably, “but that doesn’t apply to you, man. You’re always welcome here.”
It got a proper reaction out of him at last, Bakugou ducking his head and glaring at Kirishima like he was trying to bore holes in his forehead with just his eyes. Kirishima knew the to mean I don’t know how to handle affection so I’m just going to pretend to be tough and ignore it. Probably not in quite so many words. More cursing, definitely. But some amount of creative liberties were required when translating Bakugou for the masses.
There was a rap on the doorframe, and both boys looked up. Kirishima smiled at his ma, Bakugou giving a jerky nod of greeting.
Keiko was an opposite to her wife in nearly every way: tall where Akane was short, broad where she was slim, her hair cropped and dyed the same brilliant red as Eijirou’s. “Nice to see you, Katsuki,” she greeted, flashing an enormous grin. “You eaten yet?”
And while most were thrown by the sight of Kirishima’s ma, Bakugou didn’t even bat an eye. Maybe it was because his own household was just as unorthodox, though less in aesthetic and more in mannerisms. “No,” he admitted.
“Well we’ve got gyudon,” she offered. “It hurts my pride as a chef to give you leftovers, but unfortunately we need to go shopping.”
“We,” Kirishima repeated, dubious. Because, as the main cook in the household, it was his ma’s job to do the grocery shopping.
“Just for that, boy, I’m sending you on the next trip.” She wagged a finger at him. “You’re lugging all those heavy groceries from the store to here on your own.”
“I could do it,” he pointed out.
She nodded solemnly. “I know you could, and I’m proud.”
Kirishima’s drawn out, “Maaaa,” was more for show than any real embarrassment. He’d never felt ashamed of his mothers’ affection, and never planned to be.
Bakugou was quiet through the entire exchange. Kirishima sent him a curious glance — this was typically his cue to deliver some kind of an insincere jab or start groaning about how much sappiness he could bear before wanting to explode his own skull. There was nothing. Just this silent flicker of his eyes, between Kirishima and his ma.
“Well, I could do with some leftovers,” Kirishima chimed in, which was a partial truth. He wasn’t really all that hungry, but he also knew Bakugou wouldn’t accept anything without prompting. “C’mon, Bakugou, we just made it today so it’s still pretty fresh!”
Akane and Keiko didn’t eat, but joined them at the table. Kirishima only warmed a small portion for himself, the rest scraped into a bowl for Bakugou. He set both bowls down, sliding into the chair beside Bakugou’s. Bakugou didn’t move, though.
Kirishima gave him a curious glance. Bakugou avoided his gaze, head turning subtly away.
“Katsuki?” Akane prompted.
Beneath the table, Kirishima saw Bakugou’s nails digging into his leg. He took his hand without a word, feeling him first tense and then grip back as though Kirishima were a lifeline out at sea. “Aren’t any of you going to ask?” He demanded, his head turning between the three of them.
“Ask you what now?” Keiko cocked her head, though Kirishima knew she, and everybody else at the table, knew exactly what Bakugou was talking about.
“Why I’m here?” He gritted his teeth. “Why I showed up at ten-fucking-thirty at night?”
“Do you want to tell us?” Akane asked, a genuine question. “Of course we’re wondering, Katsuki, but it’s up to you if you want us to know.”
Beneath the table, Kirishima thumbed over the back of Bakugou’s palm. His heart twisted at the look on Bakugou’s face, at the curl of his mouth that looked like anger but sounded like grief. If he could, if Bakugou would let him, he would press against him and into him and wind so completely around him that he wouldn’t have to be afraid of anyone seeing him break.
For now he could hold his hand, and smooth the tremors from his fingers.
Bakugou swallowed. It was easier for him when he was told to do something — then it was only a matter of obey or rebel. When offered a choice, a froze.
“I got in a fight with my mom,” He started, haltingly. “And she kicked me out.”
It wasn’t surprising. Still, Kirishima closed his eyes, wishing for the life of him he could say otherwise. But he’d met the Bakugou family, protective and loving and destructive they all were. Bakugou was a smaller, more volatile version of his mother and when both of their fuses were lit, it left nothing but chaos behind.
He wasn’t sure how to feel, knowing that Bakugou traveled to his house, just betting on the belief they’d take him in. It wasn’t a terrible trip from the Shizuoka prefecture to Chiba, but two and a half hours covered a lot of land by train. He was a long way from home.
Akane let out a small sigh, reaching to set her hand on Keiko’s arm as the woman began to bristle. Kirishima knew his ma to be far more exuberant in her emotions than his mom, and the pinching of her expression suggested an outburst that wouldn’t be well received at the moment. “Well, Katsuki, you can stay with us as long as you need, alright? But I will have to call Mitsuki. I’m sure she’s worried sick right now.”
Bakugou gave a scornful growl. It got him a warning look from Akane but little else as she excused herself into the next room, phone in hand.
Keiko regarded him for a moment. “I’m glad you came here, kiddo,” she said at last. Grinning, she added, “Eijirou wouldn’t stop talking about you. Maybe now we’ll get some peace and —”
“Ma, please,” Kirishima groaned, pushing his face into his free hand.
A small noise left Bakugou. A laugh, he realized, quiet and raspy but undoubtedly a laugh. Kirishima straightened up and beamed.
“I need a camera,” Keiko murmured to herself, patting her pockets down. Kirishima hurriedly stuffed his mouth with food, and motioned for Bakugou to do the same.
Late as it was, his mothers allowed them to just put the bowls in the sink for the night. “We have extra toothbrushes,” Keiko told Bakugou, before they went upstairs. “Eiji always goes through them too quickly.”
“Guess he would, with those freaky fucking shark teeth,” Bakugou snorted. Kirishima only clicked them at him, lips pulled back to show off both rows, and broke into guffaws when Bakugou’s eyes widened and he looked away. His grin died when he remembered his ma, who was staring at them with both her eyebrows raised.
“...Leave the door open, Eijirou.”
“Ma!”
They did not leave the door open, Kirishima’s ears burning as he listened to his ma sniggering outside the door. “God,” he groaned, “I love them but. Why?”
“I’d trade you.” Bakugou’s face was vicious. He dropped onto Kirishima’s bed, jaw working. “I wouldn’t mind saying good fucking riddance to mine.”
Kirishima blinked slowly at him, then approached with a small sigh, lowering himself down beside Bakugou. Their arms touched. “You don’t mean that,” he said.
“Wanna fucking bet?” There was venom in Bakugou’s voice, the kind that made your blood boil in your veins. “That old hag kicking me out like I’m some stray that pissed on the carpet too much. I’ll fucking —”
— kill her he didn’t say, his mouth twisting closed on the words. Bakugou just snarled, explosions popping in his hands and smoke billowing between his fingers. “I can’t fucking believe her,” he hissed instead.
It was surprisingly truthful. That was what made his words spit with hatred. Betrayal was a pill that burned all the way down and left bitterness heavy on the tongue. Kirishima knew that Bakugou didn’t always get along with his parents, that as obvious as his love for them was he didn’t always have patience with his father, or checked his temper with his mother. And sometimes it was the other way around, Mitsuki making an offhand remark about her son that left Kirishima faltering, the idea of his own mothers voicing the same words about him curdling in his gut. Masaru did not make these comments quite so often, but he listened to his wife when she did, and never spoke up in his son’s defense.
Kirishima liked the Bakugous, but sometimes he wondered if they knew the effect of their own words.
“Hey, Bakugou,” he started, waiting for his red eyes to turn to meet his own. “Have you tried talking with your parents about this stuff? Like, how you’re feeling, and why.”
He sneered. “There’s no fancy reason why, shitty-hair. It’s just who I fucking am. A good for nothing son, as the hag said.”
Kirishima frowned at him, tentatively putting a hand on his leg and leaning closer into his space. “I don’t think that’s true. I mean, you’re shouty and blasty, yeah, but you’re not like mean. Not anymore,” he amended, when Bakugou gave him a flat look. “It’s been awhile since you’ve really gotten in a fight with anyone — even Midoriya.”
Bringing him up was a leap of faith. Bakugou stiffened, but Kirishima held fast, watching him as he took a breath and unwound. When he did, a proud grin crossed his face. “See that? Last year you would have started exploding things, man!” He sobered. “So, what’s different with your parents?”
Bakugou stared at the wall. His shoulders rose visibly with each breath, a sharp inhale, a heavy exhale. Kirishima turned his head by his jaw, murmuring, “Katsuki…”
“I can’t do anything right by her,” he rumbled at last. His voice was scratchy and rough. “No matter what I fucking do. My grades — my license — my quirk — nothing. You fucking breathe and your moms fall over themselves with how fucking proud they are of you, it’s disgusting.” Bakugou jerked away from him, turning his glare on Kirishima. His lips peeled back, teeth flashing.
Kirishima’s expression flattened. “Don’t take it out on me,” he told him, scolding but gently so.
And Bakugou’s crumpled. His brow was a mess of wrinkles, eyes squinting, teeth bared. He covered his eyes with one hand, spitting out a quaking, “Fuck.” It wasn’t a proper apology, but Kirishima would let it slide tonight. He shifted closer again, ignoring Bakugou’s show of trying to shove him away to wrap his arm around him.
“It’s okay,” he soothed. Bakugou grasped at his hips, his nails digging into the material of his shirt.
“I had those fucking dreams again,” Bakugou said, voice still tight with barely-restrained emotion. “And I blew up my damn bed, and she thought — fuck I don’t know what she thought but she was fucking pissed — she —” He choked. Trembled.
“Does she know about your dreams?” Kirishima asked.
His silence was answer enough.
“You have to talk to her, man,” he sighed. “About a lot of things.” He moved himself into Bakugou’s lap, once again ignoring the protesting rumbles as he embraced him from the front. His hair was soft, tickling Kirishima’s chin as he rested it atop Bakugou’s head. “But not now, okay? Let’s get some sleep.”
Bakugou gave up any act of rejecting him. He slumped against Kirishima, turning his face into his neck. And then, all at once, he was clinging to him, muffling sobs behind clenched teeth and wetness touching Kirishima’s skin. A coo left him, mournful and aching for Bakugou, pushing fingers through his hair. His own throat felt tight. He didn’t try to hold back his own tears.
Kirishima didn’t consider pulling away until Bakugou did. His face was blotchy red, eyes swollen, cheeks and nose wet. His expression pinched at the sight of Kirishima. “Why the fuck are you crying?” he demanded, but the effect was lost when he hiccuped.
“Cause you are!” Kirishima burst into giggles, breath hitching between them. “C-come on, man, you know that I c-cry when you cry.” He smeared his tears away with the palm of his hand. Sympathetic crying had to be a trait he got from his mom. “A-anyway. We should p-probably shower? I think I’ve got snot on my neck.”
Bakugou recoiled, which only sent Kirishima into another fit of laughter. “I’ll fucking kill you,” he hissed, but it meant I’m-fucking-mortified.
Kirishima waved it off. “C’mon. Shower.” He slid off Bakugou’s lap, taking his hands to pull him off the bed.
“Together?” He asked, while they padded to the bathroom.
He hadn’t actually been planning that, but once it was suggested, found no reason to argue. “Why not?” Kirishima pulled a pair of towels out of a cabinet.
“There are a shit ton of reasons, idiot.”
Kirishima puffed and waved a hand. “Dude. They’re just bodies. We’re not having sex. Let’s take a shower.”
And maybe Bakugou didn’t really care, or maybe he was too tired to argue, because he shrugged and started to undress. Kirishima turned the water on before following suit.
He had Bakugou stand under the spray first, kneading his palms over the muscle that he knew would be wound tighter than a spring. Slowly, under Kirishima’s ministrations, Bakugou began to relax. His posture eased, shoulders slumping, head lolling forward. A small noise left him, almost lost to the rattle of the shower spray, when Kirishima rubbed just above his shoulderblades.
Bakugou never really left himself vulnerable, but this was the closest thing. His guard was down, and Kirishima was able to step past it and marvel at what laid underneath.
When it was Kirishima’s turn, Bakugou washed his hair for him. The stroke of his fingers was pleasant, prickling all down his spine. He turned to rinse, found Bakugou gazing at him. Even after the wash, his eyes were still bloodshot. Kirishima was leaning forward before Bakugou even reached for him.
Cupping his face with both hands, Bakugou kissed him hard. Kissing Bakugou was still new, but Bakugou himself was as familiar as home. He was so closed-off to the world, bound in so many layers that when he opened himself to feel it was always so raw. Joy or misery or the fury that once encompassed him were all-consuming and laced his every breath. Tonight his lips tasted like gratitude.
Maybe, if he was hopeful, Kirishima would say love. But he didn’t really know what this was, what any of this was. If asked, he could describe Bakugou in a million ways, but ‘best friend’ or ‘partner’ would be the first to come to his lips.
They parted slow, Kirishima leaning in for another, final kiss before shutting off the water. Together they clambered out, wrapped themselves in their towels, and returned to his room.
Bakugou slept shirtless. Kirishima slept pantless. Together they made a functional set of pajamas, which was all that was required for a single bed.
Bakugou curled around him from behind, face leaned against his back. They’d untangle in the night. Bakugou would probably steal the blankets, and Kirishima would probably stretch out across the whole bed. They’d shared beds before, and knew how it went, because while there were a lot of unknowns regarding Kirishima and Bakugou — what they were to each other, and how such opposites could ever come to form two halves of a whole — it was a well known fact that they both slept better with the other by their side.
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