#did you enjoy my cringe rhyme at the beginning of the ask

[hibischush]

Ik we’re months away from the month of October and spookiness. but could you please make one where s/o is a huge halloween enjoyer, and takes juniper, celine, march, hayden, and adeline to those really fun but scary haunted house rides? 🎃

Oh, never fear, my dear, for the spooky month of October is always near! 🦇 (well, 4 months. close enough). Halloween is my favorite time of the year, so I do not mind indulging in it early haha 🌺

Juniper

Juniper's appearance and occupation literally screams Halloween

After getting to know you, she jokes that you only got together because she is a sorceress

Juniper also quite enjoys Halloween since she can literally just go as herself and the townsfolk don't suspect anything

However, being in a relationship with you means she is forced into stepping her Halloween game up

You two are THE couple on Halloween

You both look fabulous in costumes and you both put a lot of time and care in costume design

And while Juniper loves when you compliment her and smother her in love, she absolutely loves showing you off on Halloween

(Because you can show her off any other day, right?)

Joking. She knows this is your day to shine based of how much you adore it

When it comes to the fun Halloween festivities like rides or haunted houses...

She's actually terrified of them

Of course she never tells you this, she has to keep her image up

But its also partly because she doesn't want you to worry about her when this day is so special to you

She'll act all tough going through a haunted house with you, but even you know that with the death grip she has on your arm that she's scared

She jumps, flinches, and will not hesitate to scream

If you are able to, she can and will jump into your arms

If you aren't able, she'll hide her face into your shoulder while holding onto you with great strength

Afterwards she enjoys the adrenaline high with you, and despite hating the actual going-through-the-attraction, she will continue to do it for years to come for you

Celine

Another Halloween Enthusiast

I hc that Celine like to make her own clothes

She 100% is crazy about making costumes

With you, that craziness is turned up to 1000%

You both spends days, even up to a week, preparing your costumes together at her cottage

You both make it a date and will talk and snack on treats she made while sewing

Couples costumes ✅✅✅

Since she enjoys gardening, she helps grow pumpkins and other autumn crops for the town's spooky decorations

Combined with your efforts, the town looks totally enchanted after you both help decorate

While Celine loves the aesthetics of autumn and "cute" spooky things, she does not enjoy being scared

That being said, she does not go out of her way to go on those intense rides

The most she'll do with you is a regular haunted house, but she'll have to hold your hand the entire time and won't look up from the ground

But that disappointment is made up for how much effort she puts in things like corn mazes and bobbing for apples

Literally you ain't never seen someone bob for apples quite like she does but you fall in love with her over and over again whenever you see her lmao

She loves the corn mazes too, even the ones with "spooky" things

"Haunted corn mazes and haunted houses are two very different things!"

It really just gives her an excuse to walk to you closer and maybe sneak off to give you a few smooches because you just look too dang good in that costume you made

March

Ah March. The resident hater

He's not that big of a fan of Halloween before you two met and began dating

But you indoctrinated him into the Halloween Lover's Club

March is still not nearly as passionate about Halloween as you are, but most of his enjoyment of the holiday is just seeing how much you enjoy it

Idk if movies exist in Mistria but March definitely would love watching horror movies with you

He would dress up with you, but he almost dresses, modestly?

Like not a bad costume, just decent

And it's not out of carelessness, he just wants you to be the one who shines

He really enjoys going on those intense haunted house rides with you!

Even though he's scared out of his mind (He tries not to show it) he loves the thrill of it

It makes him feel a lot better being there with you too

He's definitely the type to accidently punch a scare actor too LMAO

He's just trying to protect you he didn't mean it

March enjoys leaving the haunted house with you, the rush of relief is something unmatched, especially when holding hands with you

He just loves to look at you and see the wide, satisfied grin you have

At that point he'll have to pull you in to give you a gentle kiss on your forehead

He likes to eat caramel apples with you afterwards and maybe take a glass of spiced apple cider, too

Hayden

You though you were the biggest Halloween enjoyer? Hah

Hayden is insane with his love for Halloween

Your combined love for Halloween is what confirmed your soulmate status lol

Hayden goes all out with decorations, his costume, the vibes, the treats, and the scares

You two are going in and out of the most frightening attractions one by one like its no big deal

You two eat up getting scared

Side note, Hayden definitely laughs after being scared

He also loves to tease you if you do get scared

⬆️This often bites him in his ass because he will literally scream so loud if you sneakily tap his shoulder while walking through a haunted house

He is holding your hand the entire way through these attractions and would jokingly sweep you off your feet to "protect you" from the "bloodthirsty murder clowns"

He also loves the corn mazes and other things like bobbing for apples

Or sneaking kisses in at said corn maze

Basically just think about what you would do and Hayden is already five steps ahead and lovin' it

Adeline

Adeline is probably the only person who remains neutral about Halloween even after she begins to date you

Don't get me wrong, she will still respond warmly to you and your shenanigans and support you, but most of the festivities are just okay to her

With one large exception:

Adeline loves pumpkin carving

And she's crazy good at it

Like think Faberge egg type of intricate with her designs

She likes to set aside an evening where you two can carve pumpkins together near the fireplace in the manor, sipping on warm beverages and eating sweet treats

She thinks it's pretty fun to dress up with you, too, but her costumes are pretty tame compared to your extravagant costumes

She's hesitant to go into haunted houses but she'll go with you because she feels so safe with you

Adeline is hiding beside you most of the time

But after leaving she enjoys hearing about what parts of the haunted house you liked

She just likes listening to you, particularly if you're talking about your passions

Her favorite part about Halloween is being able to snuggle up to you in bed and hear you talk about everything the two of you saw and experienced that day, all the while thumbing the back of your hand lovingly

Y'know I was thinking while writing that it kinda seems weird to have those crazy haunted house rides in Mistria?? Like it doesn't make sense to have such modern engineering. Then I realized we can literally use magic in the game and all was resolved.

Also sorry if there are any spelling or grammar mistakes! It's later for me than usual while writing this and post-work brain sometimes can't comprehend English

[aiekerman]

Medicine - Levi Ackerman

Levi x Reader - fluff

AN: I am not usually a Valentine’s person but here we are. Levi can really get anything out of me. Also, I realise my fic titles seem a little random but I’m titling them after songs that make the vibe in my head - not necessarily based off, just vibes you know. So yeah this is Medicine by The 1975.

Word count: 1.9k

Summary: It’s Valentine’s day and you’re in work at a café all day. But Levi is there to at least provide some eye candy.

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

‘He’s so pretty I might pass out,’ Hitch leant over the counter, her chin in her hand as she unabashedly stares across the café at the man sipping at his tea.

His posture is perfect, balancing a book in one hand while his other holds the top of the tea cup delicately to his mouth.  He blends into the café atmosphere like he was there upon its creation. The shop is earth toned, plants hanging all over and soft lighting that cast shadows across his bone structure.

He looked pulled straight out of an indie movie.

The air around him was mysterious yet all consuming, You spent the entire shift stealing glances at him every time he was in. Which was most days. However, Sunday’s took the cake, you assumed he didn’t work on Sundays whatever his job was, as he took the luxury of bringing a book in and spending hours planted at the same table. Working through a multitude of tea as he sat in perfect view to act as eye candy for the baristas for the day.

You steal a last glance at him, while restocking the pastry baskets, internally agreeing with Hitch but turning to her and speaking, ‘Is he worth getting yelled at for not doing anything when a manager sees you?’

Hitch gives her an eye roll before standing up as a customer approaches the counter.

In your own head, you silently think that, yes, he absolutely was worth getting yelled at.

Across the café floor, Levi glances from over the top of his cup when he feels a pair of eyes darting in his direction once again. He took a self indulgent moment to look over you as you gently placed the warm croissants in one of the wicker baskets. From your well-loved sneakers that he presumed to be pair reserved for work, up to your head of hair that bounced and swayed along with your steps.

He was a man who found the joy in life through small moments. His first sip of tea in the morning. Running his hand through his hair once it was freshly washed. Spending his Sunday in the café that was an extra few blocks from his apartment so he could steal glances at the beautiful barista. He could never bring himself to properly talk to you though, that would make it the exact opposite of a small moment.

        *           *           *          *            *         *          *           *          *

You enjoyed Valentine’s day. Your day had started with a card arriving from your parents and your friend back home sending a text message thanking her for flowers that you had booked to be delivered.

When you reached the café for the usual Sunday shift you were met by heart shaped bunting criss-crossing around the whole ceiling.

You settled in behind the counter. It was still early, an orange tint hanging on the edges of the sky. And Sunday mornings were quieter than most, people taking their time to get out of bed. You imagined especially on Valentine’s day, couples would spend the early hours wrapped up in their ‘i love you’s and gift giving. Many opting for breakfast in bed rather than a café trip. You sighed at the dreamy thought.

You were single, and happily so. But you were allowed to indulge in the scenario of a coffee and pancakes being brought to you while you awoke slowly.

Were the pancakes accompanied by steel grey eyes and an undercut from time to time? You could neither confirm nor deny.

Still stuck in your daydreams, you hadn’t noticed that exact pair of grey eyes entering the café and approaching the counter.

He took a moment to look you over while it seemed your head was somewhere else. Your hair sat neater than usual, extra makeup seemed to have been applied; your cheeks more rosy than usual. A pink sweater draped around your figure and Levi swore he could smell the fresh laundry scent wafting from it.

His heart deflated slightly. You probably had a Valentine’s date. He scoffed at himself in his own head. Of course you did, one look at you screamed that you were bound to have people flooding your phone. He chose to ignore any time he noticed a customer flirting with you, but it definitely happened.

You leap when Levi lets off a small cough to catch your attention. Your face immediately blaring with heat as you search for words in your head. You often found herself flustered when it came to serving the stoic faced man.

‘Hi.’

‘Hey’

‘What, uh, what can I get you?’

‘Are you okay?’

‘Yes. Yes! I’m fine thank you for asking. Ignore my last question by the way I know- uh, I know it’s tea.’

You cut yourself off from rambling. Giving a small nod and beginning to tap on the register screen in front of you, putting through his usual pot of black tea.

You stare at the screen with an unnecessary intensity, trying to focus on the words and wipe the image of Levi delivering your breakfast from her mind. An irrational fear that maybe he was secretly a mind reader brewed in the back of your head. It would explain his constant blank slate of a face, he was constantly processing other’s thoughts.

What was actually running through Levi’s head was how pretty you looked in the glow of the morning sun, your face tinted pink in nervousness.

He only slightly fought off a small smile when you beamed up at him with your sweet voice, ‘I’ll bring it over once it’s ready.’

Levi spent the rest of the morning watching you dart around with drinks and dishes. You did most Sunday mornings solo, smiling at usual customers, rhyming off your catalogue of memorised drinks. Levi felt like a dark cloud hanging over the café, dressed in dark colours in the corner and avoiding conversation. While you were a bright ball of sunshine that seemed to honestly just want to make others smile.

The thought of actually talking to you had his tea cup trembling in his hand.

And so he buried his head deeper into his book, settling for hearing your sweet laugh float around the shop.

You sighed, what was originally a five hour shift extended to ten after Hitch called you begging to cover her half of the day, a last minute Valentine date cropping up or something. And who were you to deny the girl some romance?

Your eyes drifted around the shop, it was now three thirty pm, only an hour and half until it was time to shut. The day had mostly been couples wandering through to pick up a takeaway drink in the midst of a romantic stroll. It was hard to resist a wistful look after them as they huddled together in the February chill.

You shook your head from the thought and continued to restock the muffins, even though it would be unlikely that all would be sold before closing came around.

Standing up your head automatically took a turn in Levi’s direction, this was usually the time he would be due a tea top-up. And on cue he set down his empty cup and glanced up at you.

Two pairs of eyes met and you struggled to fight off the heat rising up your neck under his intense stare. His mouth drops open slightly, barely noticeable from the distance between them.

But you notice, the half inch that his shoulders tense up. The miniscule shake of his book. Your throat is suddenly dry, but manages to croak out, ‘more?’

‘Yes, please,’ the words come almost as a sigh. You hold the electric gaze for another second, before scurrying behind the counter, busying your mind with making up the pot of tea.

You drop it to him wordlessly. Keeping your head down, adrenaline still pumping through you from the previous moment.

The last hour and a half of service passes by easily. You avoid any of your usual indulgent looks at the man in the corner of the café, while you begin closing up.

Levi knows he has to go, he’s closed over his book already, one hand on his jacket that’s been draped over his chair all day.

But he can’t just go. His assumption from the morning has proven wrong - at least so far. You don't seem to have a Valentine’s date. And after your...whatever that was, he’s not about to just leave without so much as a hello.

You stood on the small step ladder, fingers nimbly unpinning the heart shaped decorations when his voice pulled you from your thoughts.

‘Um, thanks for your service today.’ Levi cringes. He swears he sounds like a robot.

‘Oh,’ Kasia stares down at him from atop the ladder, ‘thank you.’

Levi swallows. It’s a start.

‘You don’t usually work this late. On a Sunday.’

‘One of the other girls asked if I could cover her. She got a last minute Valentine date.’

You’ve descended the steps now, standing only a metre away from him. You look him over,

His hands are stuffed deep in his pockets, book tucked tightly under his arm. His usual sleek black hair is slightly messed. You didn’t know but he’d spent the last ten minutes tugging at as he tried to find the right conversation starter.

‘You don’t- uh, you don’t have a date?’

You shake your head softly, a small smile beginning to form across your lips.

‘What about you? Don’t you have a girlfriend you should’ve been with all day?’

‘Do you think if I had a girlfriend I’d be here all day every Sunday?’ He lets out a laugh that could be mistaken for a cough.

‘Oh. I just thought…’

‘Thought what?’

‘I don’t know actually. You’re just, uh…’ you stutter, the phrase you’re just so pretty, balancing on the edge of your tongue. ‘What?’ Levi cringes again, his voice coming out harsher than intended, but he freezes up at the quiet words that escape your mouth.

‘Just really pretty.’

They’re barely a whisper, he thinks he could almost be making it up. His subconscious is dreaming up what he wants to hear. But upon looking up at your face, there’s a fear evident in your eyes. As if the words hadn’t meant to escape.

You next words have more energy behind, ‘I am so sorry. That was so inappropriate.’

‘It’s fine, really. You’re, um, also really pretty.’

You swear if your face could get any hotter it’d melt the chocolate in the cookies. Voice immediately fades away again, ‘thank you.’

‘So is it uhh, just you closing up?’

‘Yeah. Just me.’

‘Do you mind if I wait for you? To walk you home? It’ll be too dark to walk alone by the time you’re finished.’

This time you can’t fight the smile as it consumes your whole face, ‘I’d like that.’

His hand reaches out suddenly and a thumb swipes against your cheek.

His eyes go wide upon realising what he did, ‘you had some chocolate. On your cheek.’

You try to respond. But all you can feel is the tingling left over from his touch. And how you wanna feel it again.

[lovelivingmydreams]

The guy from the foodcourt

So @reddstardust made a few really cool doodles. And one made me want to write this. So show them some love as well! Enjoy!

This is part of this bigger story, first chapter here

Nico groaned in frustration and banged his head on the desk.

There were piles of discarded notes around him. Why was this so hard?

“Okay so change of medium didn’t help,” Félix relented. Nico could hear his creativity was getting frustrated as well, though he was trying to stay positive for his sake.

“All it did was desecrate some poor tree’s memory,” Alejo pointed out in dismay.

“I’ll recycle the paper,” Nico sighed. What to do?

“It’s cramped in here. And too dark,” Alejo complained trying in vain to get comfortable on the windowsill since there was literally nowhere else for him to sit.

He had a point. The window didn’t exactly let in a lot of light and the lightbulb wasn’t helping that much.

“That’s it! A change of scenery! Brilliant idea!” Félix grinned at his opposite/partner in crime.

“Hm… I don’t know about brilliant, but it’s okay,” the darker facet agreed.

Nico nodded. Maybe he could go to the mall…

“Who knows! The people passing by might yield inspiration!” Félix pointed out eagerly.

“But we gotta focus. No side trips, no distractions. We get there, we get inspired, we write the song and we’re out. No shopping. This song has to be done by the end of the week or Diego is going to get mad at me for not keeping you two in check!”

Alejo always turned just a bit darker and scarier when he drew a line in the sand.

Félix put a hand on his heart and raised his other, palm facing Alejo.

“I swear on my spectacular spectacles, my tense friend. No unneeded distractions.”

“By Aphrodite’s hairbrush!” Félix exclaimed, his star shaped frames shifting to hearts.

“Nooo!”

“Just look!”

Nico had just sat down and looked up under ‘mild’ encouragement from his creativity, who also covered his hormones. Well his desire for romance and other… Well desires in general. Success, love, happiness. All that stuff.

Right now his attention, and therefore Nico’s, was drawn by a handsome stranger ordering food at one of the shops in the food court.

“Just look at him! He’s so cute!” Félix gushed. And Nico couldn’t disagree. He was very handsome.

He also looked rather tired.

“We don’t have time for this. Besides he doesn’t look in the mood to be bothered anyway,” Alejo argued, though Nico could hear a bit of doubt. The guy was really cute.

“Maybe bothering him will get him in a better mood? Let’s take a chance, what do you say?”

“We don’t even know if he’s gay!”

Félix clapped in delight right as Alejo groaned at his accidental rhyme.

“No distractions, you promised!” his inner edgelord insisted as the man sat himself down at a table and Nico went back to his blank screen.

“But love!” Félix whined. “Can’t that be the only exception?”

“Not when we have people waiting for a new song! Maybe if we get at least an idea down, then we can think of talking to the guy. If we can find a non-creepy reason to do so.”

Félix groaned but relented his frames going back to star shaped.

“Very well! Brainstorming time!”

Nico wrote down at least a hundred beginnings of ideas already, but most seemed to be at least somewhat related to the cute guy sitting a few tables away.

“Come on royal pain! You are killing me here!”

“Maybe if I could just chance a glance at him? He might be our muse!” Félix pleaded.

“That makes no sense.”

Before the argument could escalate Nico’s food arrived.

He was honestly relieved. He could put the laptop away for a bit and just let his thoughts go free for a moment. Hopefully not drifting towards…

From the corner of his eye he could see the guy get up. Welp that didn’t take long.

“He’s coming over!” Felix declared triumphantly.

“You don’t know that! Don’t get Nico’s hopes up!”

Nico tried to focus on his food, but it was impossible not to sneak a peek as the guy passed by. Oh, he did not mind that view either. “Look away before he sees!” Alejo hissed.

“He looks so fine!”

“He could still be a jerk. Or already dating someone. Or straight!”

“Oh come on Misery Business. There is nothing straight about that guy. My gaydar is on point and he is 99% gay. And if he had a boyfriend, he would be here with him. Or he’d at least be in a better mood,” Félix argued.

“One, you do not have me convinced gaydar is a real thing. Two, there are a ton of situations where he could have a boyfriend while also being here alone and in a bad mood. Having a relationship does not join you at the other person’s hip and it does not get rid of all the bad things in life.”

Alejo had a point there…

“And again, we should try to work on the song!” Another good point.

“Please, my dearest Paramour. One more look.”

Alejo sighed. “Fine! Just one.”

And so Nico looked up and…

“Oh god! Eye contact he caught you!”

“He’s looking back! Maybe he wants you to be looking at him!?”

“Is he looking at us? Maybe there is something behind us?”

Nico looked back, he couldn’t see anything much of note. But when he looked back at the stranger he was no longer looking at him. It was like he never even really noticed him sitting there.

“By the frozen head of Disney!” Félix exclaimed. He was clearly upset. He only made morbid Disney references when he got really down.

Alejo sighed a little relieved, but put a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder. “It’s fine. Let’s finish our meal and maybe we can come up with a song idea? Then after we can try and talk to him?”

“Would you really?” Nico thought it was awesome that his creativity and his anxiety got along so well. They looked out for one another. And pulled pranks on him and his other facets. They were a terrifyingly efficient team.

“Of course. Now what do you say?”

Félix nodded. “Let’s focus.”

And Nico got into the zone. The whole mall seemed to disappear around him except for the food in front of him. He knew he wanted to make something about mental health. He just didn’t know what aspect of it yet.

Then suddenly he heard a loud crashing sound nearby.

He looked up and could only just see a figure in an upturned trashcan.

Poor soul.

“Same,” Alejo smirked as he returned their attention to their work.

But that… Was actually not a bad idea.

“It’s a metaphor for life!” Félix gushed!

“Like how not dealing with an issue head on can cause it to pile up and before you know it bam! Disaster.”

“Are you trying to say something about…”

“Order 96!? Anyone?” Nico’s head snapped to the food stand and then over to the table where the mystery guy had sat earlier.

“Noooo!” Nico shared the musician’s sentiment. The handsome stranger was gone.

“He left without his food?” Alejo frowned. Nico got up and approached the table, indeed, the number 96 was sitting there abandoned and forgotten. He’d missed his chance. Now he’d never know.

“Would bringing him his food be an acceptable excuse to talk to him?” Félix asked desperately.

“Um… Yeah, sure. That’s probably the only reason we can justify chasing him down,” Alejo nodded nervously.

So Nico claimed the food and started walking around hoping to spot.

“Adonis at 8 o’clock!”

Nico’s head snapped in the direction Félix had pointed out and there he was, looking like the day had somehow gotten worse since Nico first noticed him.

Should he…?

Félix looked pleadingly at Alejo who sighed. “Well? Are you waiting for a written invitation or what?”

At that Nico immediately ran up to the guy. “Uh, Hey!” he called out still not sure what he was going to say.

When he came to a stop in front of him he realized that first and foremost he needed to catch his breath. It took him a second, but when he did he righted himself and gave the guy his best smile.

“There you are,” he sighed in relief. “I was afraid you’d left.” And that would’ve blown.

“You almost forgot your food…”

“He’s even cuter up close,” Félix sighed dreamily.

“He’s staring at us like we have two heads. This was a bad idea,” Alejo cringed.

He was staring at him kind of funny. Come on something to talk about… He really whished the guy was wearing a bracelet or anything of note to start a conversation about other than a bag of boiled carrots. And his sad look from earlier.

“Brilliant! Ask about that! Show how caring you are.”

“Well… We don’t have anything better so…”

“You looked really upset so I figured it might be some kind of comfort food or something. You mind kind of telling me about that?”

Please?

Nothing happened. Still staring strangely spooked at him. “Abort mission. I’m sorry Félix but this is not going to end well if we keep pushing!” Alejo rushed.

“Oh, very well. Goodbye handsome stranger,” Félix allowed reluctantly.

“It’s okay!” Nico rushed shoving the bag of food towards the stranger before he could do something to embarrass himself more. “Uh, it’s probably a bit too nosy for me to ask anyway.”

“Uh… Yeah!” The stranger replied, god why did even his voice have to sound so pleasant? And that while he was clearly 100% uncomfortable talking to him.

“Super nosy!! What’s wrong with you…man?” Nico would take offence, but he could see that the stranger was desperate to get out of the situation as fast as possible.

“We made him feel worse,” Alejo sighed guiltily.

“We didn’t mean to!” Félix argued.

“Does the intention matter? Look at him?”

“Ahhh, yeah… sorry about that. Have a good night.”

And so Nico turned around and walked away a little disappointed.

Neither Alejo nor Félix had much to say now, just allowing Nico to feel for a minute. And then he heard shoes squeaking and a voice behind him. “Uh…”

He looked around. The stranger. “Did he change his mind?!” Félix squealed.

“Maybe he just realized he was kind of rude and wanted to say sorry?” Alejo reasoned.

“Hey,” he greeted the stranger expectantly. He still looked really tense.

But now he was at least smiling. And it was a real cute smile.

“Hey…” he waved before showing him the bag of carrots. “Do you want this food? I… don’t.”

“What?” Félix and Alejo chorused confused and Nico couldn’t help but laugh.

“Then why did you buy it?” he asked.

The stranger looked away nervously and rubbed at the back of his head as he stammered trough his reply. Sending Félix into a squealing frenzy. The words cute and precious and all kinds of variations could be heard.

“Oh y-…pah-uh…Well it’s probably… you know, maybe because I was trying to see your backpack…”

Nico blinked confused as Alejo was trying to figure out what was so special about it. “Just ask him!” he eventually hissed as the uncertainty got to him.

“Wh-uh, my backpack?”

The stranger was still avoiding his eyes most of the time, a slight blush showing up on his cheeks.

“Yeah… I-I wanted to see if you had any… pride pins…”

Nico could only half follow the strangers explanation about not wanting to bother him because Félix was screaming and Alejo was screaming.

“Gay! He’s so definitely gay!”

“He wanted to know… He is interested!?”

“Oh gods, oh gods, this is amazing! He is so wonderful and earnest and just look at him he’s so worried he’s being weird! Just aaaah!”

“Which would’ve been amazing because I think you are really… cute.”

And then everything went quiet. Cute… He thinks I am cute…

“Don’t just stand there say something!”

“Oh… my… gosh…”

“Not that!”

“You should’ve just said ‘hi’!”

And the shy hopeful smile he got was just the most beautiful thing in existence.

“Oh-oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I had writers block anyway.”

Alejo gave Félix a playful shove at that.

“Oh! Uh… w-what were you trying to write? Uh, Misterrrr…?”

“Shut up, stop being adorable, my heart cannot take it!” Félix gushed.

Nico laughed. “Mr. Flores. Very formal of you! Uh… You can call me Nico if you’d like.”

The man laughed back, still a little tense but much more at ease than earlier.

“Mr. Sanders! But you can call me Thomas.”

“Thomas,” Félix repeated with a sigh, clearly halfway a plan to write an entire song just around the name alone somehow.

“To answer your question. I was attempting to write a song,” he explained as he led them both to the nearest table. He was planning on staying for quite a bit longer.

“Oh! I like… songs.” Nico smiled a little to himself, he wasn’t looking at him but he could already discern the little mental ‘are you kidding me?’ Thomas was thinking to himself at that answer. Nico, or more specifically Félix, had a suspicion of what he meant.

“He’s an artist too!!!” the master writer exclaimed.

“We don’t know that,” Alejo insisted.

“What’s yours about?”

Ah if only he knew the answer to that. “Uh… I don’t know yet. I- I think I like the idea of someone’s life…” No not quite. “or an aspect of their life feeling like… a trash bin.” Thomas’ face at that wasn’t encouraging, but he wasn’t finished explaining yet so the idea wasn’t a complete loss yet.

“And- and the waste keeps piling… and piling up… until it inevitably… spills out… into the rest of their life.” He smiled at Thomas expectantly, hoping he’d like the idea at least a little.

His face became deadpan though and just as Nico started to worry…

“You saw me knock over that trash can didn’t you?”

Oh, my… “That was you!?”

“We could’ve been his hero?” Félix whined.

“He would not have liked us seeing him like that. Imagine if it were the other way around?”

Félix shivered and nodded in understanding.

As it was the realization that Nico didn’t have a clue until now, and he’d had outed himself as ‘the trash man’ was clearly embarrassing enough on it’s own.

“OH- gosh… yes. Dang it!” he confessed as he hid his face behind his hands.

“Are you okay?” Nico asked earnestly though he couldn’t keep the amusement out of his voice or face.

Thomas was laughing as well. “Nothing but a bruised ego,” he assured him.

Félix huffed. Nico knew that to him a bruised ego was a serious condition that should not be glossed over. But Nico kind of liked that Thomas was able to laugh at the situation already.

“Sorry if my song explanation… uh, hit a little too close to home.”

Thomas’ earnest smile melted his heart.

“No, it’s fine. It’s true! I do tend to… waste a lot of opportunities in my life.”

“Was that a pun?” Nico’s facets asked shocked.

“Well,” he smiled as he took the bag of carrots. “Let’s not waste this one,” he suggested.

Next chapter

Nico’s head and heart were buzzing with excitement the whole rest of the day when he came home he threw himself on the couch. 

“AAAAAAAH!” Félix and Alejo screamed in jubilation.

“An actor and a singer?” Félix gushed.

“And he has good taste in music and in movies,” Alejo pointed out.

“He did a tour with his own musical! Is he even real?”

“How was he so modest about it?”

“Would it be okay to look him up?” the boisterous facet wondered, phone already in hand.

“Well, he said it was fine if we did… but maybe not right away?” the usually restrained man was vibrating with a mix of happy and scared nerves.

“I need a minute…” Nico sighed dreamily.

“Oh. Of course. We’ll be right here when you need us,” Félix assured him as he and Alejo retreated to the mind to tell the others all the details they might’ve missed.

[warmleftovers]

warnings: none, purely fluff

note: this is just a lil self- indulgent fic :)) *feel free to leave some feedback

wc: 1k (maybe a little more)

You were so nervous at this very moment. Last night you’d lamented over every possible situation that could stem from this date and by the time you fell asleep were almost confident that nothing could screw this day up. But now that you were here, waiting at the gates of the arboretum and surrounding park, your nerves were getting the better of you. 

‘Stop that.’, you thought,‘She said yes to this whole date thing in the first place, you have nothing to worry about’. After some deep breaths you pulled your head out of the clouds and looked around for any sight of your date.

 ‘Could you even call this a date?? What if she doesn’t see it like that???’. ‘Chill out brain, you specifically called this a date when you asked her out-’.

“Hey (Y/n)”, a voice cut through your thoughts, dragging you back to reality.

“Hi Tsu! How are you doing today?”, you chirped.

“Great, you?”, She replied.

“Just peachy”, you beamed at her, already cursing how awkward you felt.

“Well if you’ve got the passes we should get going.”,Tsu said as you two strode through the gates.

As you walked alongside her, you had the time to take in what she was wearing. The weather was warm but not sweltering and you saw Tsu had dressed accordingly. Your heart just skipped a beat seeing her in a light green sundress that ended just past her knees, her hair in that signature bow, (you still had no clue how she managed to style it like that). Her big black eyes scanning the picturesque park view beyond. She looked so pretty, right here, right now, especially with the scenery behind her. Then again you thought she looked gorgeous anywhere. ‘Damn really going all out here with the romantic thoughts huh’, you pondered.

“Is there anywhere you want to go first?”, you asked, standing next to the map of the grounds.

“The greenhouses look interesting..”, Tsu suggested, doing that cute thing where she rested a finger on the corner of her mouth.

“Let’s head over there now, and then maybe we can grab lunch afterwards?”,you proposed, seeing a cafe marked on the map nearby.

“Sounds great!”, She remarked.

And off you went, strolling through green houses filled with all varieties of fauna. There were palms and small trees with waxy leaves, as well as exotic flowers in vibrant shades of red, yellow, and purple. You two marveled at the rainforest’s worth of cool plants that lined the designated pathways. The air was humid inside with the scent of damp earth mixed with the occasional sweet aroma of flowers, but the well curated collection of plant life really made up for a bit of sweat. Not to mention seeing Tsu so enamored.

As you walked through the tropical biosphere Tsu and you, wow that rhymes, chatted about nothing in particular including her siblings, how pretty those flowers looked, the weather, and the latest episodes of a show you both watched. You really loved the sound of her voice as she went on about something or the way she smiled and giggled at something funny you said or did. Though as you walked alongside her, you couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on her hand laying at her side. You had finally worked up the nerve to ask her out after being a pining idiot for months, and here you were incredibly nervous but still desperately wanting to hold her hand. Not just like platonic or spur of the moment hand holding but the slow kind, like you see in movies. You wanted to intertwine fingers and walk beside Tsu, hand in hand. But you were anxious as hell and barely keeping your cool as you walked alongside her in conversation, inches apart under the greenhouses glass dome.

After you’d seen almost everything those domes of plants had to offer you decided to head to a nearby cafe to grab lunch. Both of you were growing hungry after walking around for quite a bit. In minutes you arrived at the Lily Pad Cafe. (Which you honestly thought was really ironic considering the whole frog thing Tsu had going on.)

The Lily Pad Cafe definitely lived up to the name though. The outdoor seating consisted of a patio that stretched out over a large pond. In clusters across the deep green water were bright green lily pads with the occasional white flower resting atop the water. Looking into the pond you could spot the occasional fish, while iridescent dragonflies skimmed the water.

You dug into a meal of sandwiches and gazed across the lake as it reflected clear blue skies on the surface. After some more idle chatter and once Tsu had finished her jelly cup. Then Tsu led you over to a bench that sat atop a hill under a shady tree. From this point you could see the lower lying hills where people walked and picniced.

“Today’s been really nice, thanks for inviting me out here (Y/n).”, Tsu exclaimed.

“Thank you for coming with me!”, you replied, smiling at her.

“No worries, You know I was thinking about that plant we saw-”, as she started talking about a tropical tree you had seen earlier your eyes went back down to her hand sitting right next to yours on the bench.

‘Well it’s now or never y/n’, you thought, mustering all your courage you moved your hand just a bit to the side and on top of hers.

“And the sign said that-”, she paused and looked down at your hands.

‘Oh crapcrapcrap you’ve really done it now’, you panicked moving to pull your hand away and apologize. But then as you inwardly cringed, Tsu beamed at you and laced her fingers between yours.

“I was beginning to think there was something wrong with my hands, you should have just told me you wanted to hold them.”, she laughed.

“Haha, sorry bout’ that.”, you said sheepishly.

“You seem really nervous but I assure there’s nothing to worry about. This place is wonderful and I do really enjoy spending time with you.”, Tsu said, grabbing your other hand and turning to face you.

“Same here, though I guess you know that because I asked you out and everything..”, you nervously rambled, becoming a blushy mess at her kind words.

Tsu beamed at you and turned to face the scenery again, a satisfied smile on her face.

The rest of that sunny day passed, with you and Tsu walking around the grounds, smiles on your faces and hand in hand.

[kpopcotton]

Simply Soft ~ NCT DREAM

a/n ~ i love them and can’t stop thinking about them, so here’s what activity they enjoy doing with you • Prompt: doing dishes and wanting a cute boy to help me out (spoiler) • Genre: platonic fluff, bullet point scenario, ot7 and nct member!reader • Warning(s): heartache, desire to have a friendship like the dreamies do, one curse word • Reader Gender: gender-neutral

==≎==

Mark

duets? duets.

doesn’t matter when or where, mark wants to hear your voice

either singing or rapping

sometimes acoustic, sometimes with music in the practice room where you can also dance together

basically, mark just wants to spend time with you so he is able to praise you for everything. he knows how quickly you can get self-conscious

very proud of your singing ability and always starts yelling about getting chills when you hit a note just right

loves hyping you up when you get out a good rhyme or when you rap along to his parts in songs

though with such busy schedules, you sing together more often than anything else

you both find a nice corner and he starts strumming the chords of his guitar and boom, magic

there are countless videos of you two singing together to the soft melody of the stringed instrument

one time you invited chenle (he always finds a way to bring it up during vlives) and he played the piano for you guys while you all sang a sweet love song

the amount of clips and memes made from your duets is immeasurable

you find one on your feed at least once a day 

sometimes you find cute aesthetic edits of screenshots where mark is giving you heart eyes while you sing, but most of the time they’re short videos of you and mark unintentionally being sexy while dancing or rapping 

the captions for those usually rant about you both being rude or disrespectful with the rare “i would let them ruin me” 

it always makes you guys feel super flustered in the beginning though you end up laughing it off like school girls and making the hard stan tweets into inside jokes

but all in all, mark just loves giving you the confidence he knows you deserve

“yo! dude, oh-ho shit! that’s my best friend! go best friend!”

==≎==

Renjun

you’d think renjun’s favorite thing to do with you is dance, or sing, maybe even draw

nope

honestly, people think you guys hate each other since you are rarely seen interacting

fans freak out when you give each other even the most simple skinship like a pat on the shoulder or put an arm around each other for a group picture

or when you happen to touch while posing for photoshoots

but what people don’t realize is that you and renjun are roommates at the dorms

neither of you sleeps in your own bed alone, ever

your room stays cold year-round so it’s better to give each other warmth under the safety of each other’s blankets, or at least that’s your agreed upon logic

so skinship is super common between you, though he doesn’t like to be all over you in public or in front of the other members because they love to tease

renjun’s absolute favorite thing, though he’d never admit it, is getting to stay up late with you, watching horror movies and having deep talks about time travel or aliens

he feels the safest when he is in your shared room with you, sitting on whoever’s bed seems the comfiest that day

it makes the stress of idol life melt away because he knows he can talk to you about anything

sometimes (these are your favorite moments) he gets very a little paranoid from a horror movie or is in a cuddly mood because he’s tired, and shyly asks to lay on your chest to listen to your heartbeat while you play with his hair

“can you maybe scratch my scalp?”

==≎==

Jeno

it’s no secret this boy is jacked, ripped, muscular, however you want to say it

so, it’s obvious he likes working out with you, right?

wrong

two words, video games

no matter how busy you two are, you always find time to play at least one round of some sort of video game

waiting for your stylists? just one look and you’re already pulling out your nintendo switch to play a few quick rounds

the winner of rock, paper, scissors gets to pick which game it is

which means you always get the choice and you always pick smash bros

things can get pretty heated between you both as well 

you both get very competitive when it comes to gaming together

you never yell at each other, only dance your hearts out when you get annoyed

fans find it funny because they know exactly when jeno lost and exactly when you lost before a stage

though you don’t always get upset 

you could never truly get upset with jeno and neither could he with you

he’s your puppy and your his teddy bear

jeno finds the growls you make when you’ve messed up super cute so he starts smiling

you find his samoyed eye crescents when he smiles terribly adorable so you obviously start smiling too

and, you both end up hanging off each other, nuzzling the other’s cheek and giggling like children

then maybe gag a little at each other for being so sweet

“you’re so cute! i can’t stand it!”

==≎==

Haechan

he’s the type to do the most

you know how he acts with taeil and mark? yeah, it’s at least ten times worse with you

lingering touches, flirty comments, pet names

the works

you’ve gotten so used to it that you don’t even react anymore

oh, his arm’s around your waist? when did that get there? you can’t recall

his favorite thing to do is cuddle with you or when he’s feeling extra playful, he’ll wrestle with you

hyuck is almost always laying on you and/or looking at you like you’re the only person in the world though to all the members, you are their world

one vlive, you wanted to be a brat so you started spoiling something that was coming up which caused the guys to start yelling at you to stop

you didn’t

so next thing you knew, haechan was on top of you in two seconds flat, holding you down and covering your mouth

chaos ensued shortly after

you licked his hand and retaliated, leading you two to roll around on the floor while trying to pin the other 

jeno was laughing with chenle, who’s joyous dolphin laugh was almost drowned out by the sound of him flailing his arms and legs

jaemin was scolding you both, saying you were being too loud

jisung was trying to save hyuck from your wrath 

renjun was staring into the camera like he was on the office while sighing and shaking his head

when you all finally calmed down and started talking about what you were supposed to be, you and haechan were cuddling with him sitting between your legs and your arms around his waist

“yeobo~ your embrace is so warm!~ hold me forever!~”

==≎==

Jaemin

the domestic boyfriend we all know and love

so of course, he loves doing the little things with you

like grocery shopping, or waking up the other members when you all have early schedules to treat them to breakfast

homemade of course

his favorite thing to do with you is experiment with food and watch cooking shows, however, he prefers to watch holiday baking competitions to get ideas for treats to make for the other members

it’s almost always cookies

but if the boys are lucky, you and jaemin hunker down to bake a cake

after you wash your hands, he insists on tying your apron for you like a gentleman, but he expects you do it in return

always grabs your hands when you finish tying and pulls them forward to get you to back hug him 

you always comply and bury your face in his neck while mumbling something along the lines of “you’re welcome” to get him to either let go of you or regret having initiated the situation in the first place

contrary to popular belief, you both stay mostly clean throughout the whole process

unless the other members join and help, a.k.a. the cast of chenji’s this or that

jaemin always has to swipe something onto his son’s jisung’s cheek which makes the younger boy protest and fight back

chenle cackles childishly and wants to join, but once you wrap an arm around his shoulders and praise him for being mature, it instantly convinces him otherwise

he likes seeming mature and sophisticated in front of you

you get a rag to clean both of the messy boys up

jisung will protest every time, saying he can do it himself

jaemin gives him THAT look and he quickly lets you clean him up

will move to sit down for you to clean his face, just so he can have you stand between his knees and be in arms’ reach

the younger boys cringe when he gives you his signature fan-sign stare and rests his arms around your hips, asking for a kiss when you finish

will throw a fit if you don't peck his forehead

heart cookies are a must, jaemin will never not make cookies in the shape of hearts for you and the members

not valentine’s day? who cares, the cookies will always be hearts

“it’s how much i love you in the physical form of my sweetness!”

==≎==

Chenle

chenle: my nct bias is taeyong

you: *walks in the room*

chenle: taeyong who? i only know y/n

he’s literally your biggest fan

always finding reasons to call you or hang out with you

it is hard to find him without you or you without him

chenji’s this or that needs a special guest? always you, the managers and staff have no choice

you have a specific concept photoshoot with the older members? chenle is your plus one

again, the staff and managers have no choice

he is always talking about you like you’re some higher being

he loves video chatting you while you both go about your days

he likes being able to look over and see your face or having the subtle background noise of your breathing

will cry when you haven’t talked in five minutes a while

he’s that attached to you

usually, the one to call first, but when you call first he melts into a puddle of pure joy

his favorite thing to do with you: sitting 

together obviously 

though it doesn’t actually matter because if you aren’t around he’ll just call you to do the same thing

if you have your license, he will always ask if you guys could go for a drive and listen to music

but if you don’t, the couches at the dorm is just a good a place as any

he sits right next to you and usually holds onto your arm while resting his head on your shoulder

becomes so calm in your presence, people wonder if he’s sick or feeling sad

nope, he’s just relaxing with you after an eventful day

when he has to go home, he always whines and pouts. he almost throws a fit sometimes and you have to calm him down by promising to video chat him as soon as he gets home

asks his mom to let him stay the night a lot, though she rarely lets him

sometimes, when he does get to stay, he wedges himself between you and renjun in bed

renjun complains, but you shut him up quick

the bed is already pretty small as is, but you three make it work by snuggling up close to one another

chenle is in heaven because most times, both you and renjun wrap him up in your arms and he’s just sandwiched in a loving cuddle

the sounds of your shallow sleeping breaths give him the best sleep of his life

“never leave my side, y/n. i need you to relax.”

==≎==

Jisung

the sweetest boy for you

and only you

the other members get so petty when they see him trailing after you like a baby duckling after its parent

always commenting on how he can’t stay five feet from you ever 

though they’re literally the same way?

you may not treat jisung like your baby, but that doesn’t mean he’s not your baby

always right there when you’re cooking, waiting to be your taste-tester

when he’s feeling upset, you’re the first one he reaches for

always offering to help you when he thinks you need it

even if you don’t need it, he’ll still stand by you and watch you complete the task

that being said, his favorite thing to do with you are chores

your turn for laundry? there he is, struggling to fold the t-shirts

you want to tidy up the bedrooms? has a trash bag ready for you in his hands

his favorite chore is doing the dishes

to him, you make it so much fun

you share an airpod with him and turn on some hyped playlists to dance along to

you wash and he dries

the smile on his face never leaves

will laugh uncontrollably when you start messing around with the bubbles from the soap or sing into a pancake turner

sometimes you pull him away from drying for a quick duet

most of the time it’s you spinning him around and dipping him like they do in the movies

he’s such a graceful and talented dancer, but he becomes a flailing beanstalk blowing in the wind when you dance with him

always trying to get back to the job at hand, but you don’t let him until you’ve had your fill of dancing to the music

when you finish the dishes and put them away, you always give him a high five and a hug to thank him for helping you

you think that’s why he always comes back

“a-are you sure we can dance in the kitchen like this? yah, we might break something!”

[bubble-tea-bunny]

sucker 

[billy batson x reader]

author’s note: this was such a fun movie. enjoy <3

word count: 2,223

It’s official. Billy Batson is a living cliche.

In his defense, he didn’t mean to be one (though who the hell would ever?) and it just sort of… happened. He couldn’t just control that rumbling in the pit of his stomach, that was most certainly not hunger but something else, something like (oh hell here we go again)… like butterflies, when Mary introduced you as her friend and the tutor she’d agreed to help him find because without going into a lot of detail his French grade isn’t looking too great. Well, not yet anyway. That’s why you came into the picture.

He’d been thoroughly caught off guard by how pretty you were, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. Hard enough, it would seem, to turn him into a fucking poet because okay, yeah, sure, his French grade is questionable but his English grade is pretty good and he supposes he’s feeling that same surge of inspiration all those famous old writers did when they discovered the perfect muse. He could probably wax lyrical about the smile that seems to live on your face and has made a home alongside the rest of your soft features and he really needs to stop—

Frankly, it’s embarrassing, the way you make him feel. Teenaged boys having crushes is normal, it’s expected, it’s whatever, but he’s skeptical that an infatuation to this degree could be. When his English teacher assigns writing a poem as their homework one night, the first thoughts swirling through his head about what he could put on the paper involved you in some capacity. Of course, no matter what he wrote it wouldn’t be good since he doesn’t actually write poems, they’re not his thing, but his teacher might give him an A anyway because his rhymes and meter may be shit but the content is mushy and showcasing a range of feelings most don’t even think a teenaged boy can have but Billy can hear his teacher now, remarking that he didn’t peg Billy for such a romantic even though he’s not.

(Is it bad that you make him want to be?)

He doesn’t write about you. He thinks writing a poem about how much he likes you is going overboard, even for him. A walking, talking cliche has to have its limits too. Instead he writes about some stupid teen-angst bullshit that’s still textbook for a fourteen year old but it’s a cliche he’s more comfortable with putting out there. Besides, if you were the subject of his poem and his teacher tried to ask who he was writing about, he’d probably die right there. At least teenaged angst scrawled on a piece of notebook paper was enough to get an A and warranted no questions.

The only person he can’t hide it from is Freddy but that’s no surprise. Freddy figures it out by himself because he’s smart, sometimes too smart for his own good, and Billy doesn’t want to ask him why he’s staring at him like that so he doesn’t and all he says is Could you stop that? and Freddy says No because of course he does, and he plops down into his desk chair, the wheels rolling back slightly from his momentum.  

“You like her, don’t you?”

Billy drops his backpack down onto his bed, having brought it back up after studying with you in the dining room for the past hour, and plops down next to it. “What? No.”

Freddy hums and he is not at all convinced and Damn it, Billy, you need to find a place to put your heart that isn’t your fucking sleeve. “Really? ‘cuz you perk up whenever you see her and watch her like a lovesick puppy.”

“I do not,” Billy shoots back, wishing this conversation would end. But he’s made a wish to a bad genie because the exact opposite happens.

“Do too. Thought I could see a tail wagging.”

“Shut up.”

“It’s almost kind of cute.”

“Shut up!” Billy groans and lays back on his bed, and his hands are over his face to conceal his reddening cheeks. Since they’re both preoccupied with that, he has nothing with which to cover his ears and so he hears clearly the sound of Freddy’s laughter.

“You’re too easy to break, dude,” Freddy states as he calms down and regathers his breath, though he still huffs out the occasional chuckle.

Billy’s hands drop back down to his sides and he does his best to angle his head to look at Freddy. “You can’t tell anyone, and you definitely cannot tell Mary.” Because if Mary knows, then you will know, because you’re best friends and she tells you everything.

Freddy holds his hands up, palms out. “I won’t. Promise.”

Billy knows Freddy will keep his promise, so now, the only way you could possibly learn about his feelings is if he confessed them to you. Which, for the record, he doesn’t plan to do, and the only way it would come out is by total accident. He doesn’t count on it coming to that because he has a good grip on himself when you’re around, and he does not stare at you like a lovesick puppy that’s ridiculous.

… He doesn’t, right?

Even when he’s flying around the city looking for crime to thwart, you don’t leave his mind. He daydreams about saving you and sweeping you off your feet. He imagines how thankful you’d be as you look up at him with bright eyes and he’ll say it’s just another day but it wouldn’t be, no; it’d be very special because he’s saved someone special to him.

But he’s never run across you when he’s assumed his alter ego, but he’s not at all bummed because it means you’re safe, and that matters more. He’s content to leave his daydreams as just that, and he can pretend that it’s your cat he’s coaxing out of a tree to bring to safety, that you’re the one who’d seen him walk past and offered to buy him an ice cream cone from the nearby parlour as your treat, that he’s helping you cross the street.

Well, okay, no, that last one doesn’t really make sense because you wouldn’t need assistance crossing a street and the old lady whose arm is hooked around his for balance is at least four times your age.

When they’re safely on the other side, she thanks him, and at that same moment, Billy notices a dog farther down the block running at full speed, harness around its chest and leash dragging on the ground behind it. He quickly bids goodbye to the old lady then zooms toward the escaped pet, managing to catch up to it before it tries to step onto the busy road.

“Hey there,” he murmurs quietly, kneeling down to scratch its head and also to make sure it doesn’t try to get away again. He spots the tag on the collar and turns it so he can see the name: Lucky. He looks up and glances around for any sign of the owner, but as of yet, there is none. Had Lucky been too fast? Not fast enough for his owner to lose sight of him, surely.

As if on cue, someone comes rushing around the corner, and Billy’s eyes widen when he realizes it’s you. He clears his throat and tries to act casual as you approach, thoroughly out of breath. Needing a few seconds to gather his composure, he looks away to find the end of Lucky’s leash and picks it up.

“Thank you so much,” you force out between breaths. Your chest is heaving from how hard you’d been running, and who knows how far you’d gone? Or how far you might have left to go if Billy hadn’t been here?

Billy smiles and stands, handing you the leash. “It’s no problem.”

You take it, slipping the loop around your wrist. “I went to get coffee and tied his leash to a pole, but I guess I hadn’t done it up tight enough since, well…” You trail off and shrug, wordlessly referring to your current situation.

You’re briefly distracted when you feel Lucky’s nose nudging at your leg, and you glance down at him. His mouth is open, tongue hanging out, and he looks like he’s smiling and his tail is wagging so rapidly it’s a blur. He probably doesn’t even realize what he’s just done, and it seems you can’t be mad at him when he’s staring up at you like that, for you sigh lightly and bend a bit at the knees to pet the fluffy canine behind the ears.

All the while, Billy is staring at you, then down at Lucky, then back again and is that what Freddy’s been talking about? That he watches you like that? Because Billy doesn’t think so. He doesn’t look like that at all—

You straighten up and turn to him and he grins automatically, feeling sheepish yet rather overjoyed to be the center of your attention and oh God Freddy is totally right. But he can’t choke now! He needs to be cool, needs to play it cool. He’s saved your dog and you’re watching him with the bright eyes he imagined you would have and he can’t ruin the moment.

“Well”—Think of something cool, Billy!—“it was lucky I got here just in time right?” He chuckles amusedly but on the inside he’s cringing, immediately regretting the decision to let that leave his mouth and you probably think he’s super lame but he won’t fault you for it because he thinks he’s super lame too.

However, it seems you share no such sentiments because you laugh, and as the sound graces his ears, Billy swears his heart does a flip. “Yeah, it was,” you agree with a nod.

Soon a silence settles between you and you’re simply watching each other, and honestly Billy’s okay with this because it’s an overcast day and the lighting is flattering on you and it’s day one all over again, the ton of bricks hitting him in the face because your eyes are gentle and your smile is charming and he is lovesick, he is, and you’re both what set the butterflies loose in the first place and the only thing that can get them to settle down.

“Um…” you interrupt the quiet, and Billy’s brows raise like he’s been broken from a trance as he waits for you to continue. “I should probably get going. My coffee is probably ready by now.” You point back over your shoulder and it looks like you aren’t pointing at anything, but he knows you’re talking about the cafe.

Billy grins, trying his best to hide his disappointment that his run-in with you is coming to an end already. “Oh. Yeah, no problem.”

You start taking a few steps backwards, lifting a hand to give a slight wave, smiling lopsidedly. “Thanks again.”

When you’ve twisted around, beginning to walk back the way you came, Billy doesn’t leave right away, merely watching you for some seconds and committing every detail of this encounter to memory: the weather and the street name and how sweet you’d been and he thinks he’s going to start dreaming of your smile but that’s not such a bad thing to dream of at all.

And so, with a small smile of his own, he takes a deep breath and turns his focus to the sky, prepared to set off and continue his route around the city. Just before his feet leave the concrete sidewalk, he hears a jingle, and it grows louder as whatever it belongs to gets closer to him. His eyes lower just in time to see that the jingle is from Lucky’s collar, and he’s running behind you as you come jogging back.

Billy opens his mouth, about to ask if something is wrong, but he doesn’t get the chance to. You don’t slow down the closer you get, coming right up to him so quickly he lifts his arms reflexively to steady you in case you actually do run into him. But you don’t, stopping right before you can do so and setting a hand on his shoulder to brace yourself as you tiptoe and kiss him on the cheek.

Your hand slips back down to your side and Billy’s eyes are wide like he can’t just believe what happened. He stares down at you, utterly speechless, but it seems you are too. At first your expression mimics his, eyes widened in shock, but then it melts away and you’re flashing a toothy grin up at him. Your cheeks warm and redden with a light blush and you divert your gaze, suddenly shy. Billy feels his chest tighten and he’s beginning to think he’s falling in love with you.

No words are exchanged as you make your leave a second time but they needn’t be. You look over your shoulder at him to give one last wave, and he returns the gesture. Once you and Lucky have disappeared around the corner, he takes off, feeling lighter than air and like the biggest, baddest monster could be thrown his way and he’d defeat it in a heartbeat because this is truly his lucky day.

[fan-writer02]

Takes place after HTTYD 2, but before The Hidden World. Enjoy! :)

Try is All 

She was pondering, her chin resting her hand, her elbow on the tabletop, and her other hand twirling a pencil around against the wood.

She hadn't slept in almost two days now, but, Hiccup was still worse. She swore he hadn't closed his eyes in a week, and it showed. He had bags under his half-lidded eyes. His eyebrows were low over his eyes, his hair was messy and dirty, and his bad foot dragged. He looked horrible, and it bothered her more then words could say.

She'd tried to get him to sleep. She'd even gotten to the point of begging- and she never begged- and still he refused. When she asked why, was it because he was grief-stricken? "You're running yourself into the ground, Hiccup. It'll be the death of you." She insisted, grabbing at his hand as he tried to push past her.

"Hiccup, please listen." 

"I can't, Astrid, I can't." He'd practically sobbed. He hid his face in the crook of his elbow, his shoulders shaking. "Everytime I close my eyes, I see it all again. And it always ends the same way, Astrid. He dies, right in front of me, and I had a chance to save him, but I didn't. I- I can't keep seeing that, Astrid." 

She wasn't the only one who tried, either. Toothless would attempt to envelope him in his wings, tucking his head above his. But Hiccup would crawl out, telling Toothless what he'd told her. The poor distressed dragon eventually began avoiding Hiccup, cringing whenever he passed. The poor thing was probably as grieved as Hiccup was, both laden down with guilt. 

Valka had spoken to her, as had some of the other's in the gang. Even Tuffnut had noticed. "He's not looking so great." He'd said, rubbing his chin. "His eyebrows are starting to touch his eyeballs. Is that healthy?" 

"No, it definitely isn't." Ruffnut countered. 

But no ammount of telling or begging or bribing would get Hiccup to lay down. She was beginning to think he'd go until he dropped unconcious or died, whichever happened first. 

But she knew he needed help. And she wanted to give it to him before he made himself sick. Toothless hummed by her side, his tail twitching. His wide green eyes studied her hopefully.

"I'm thinking." She muttered. She twiddled the pencil again before dropping it onto the table. It's thunk echoed throughout the empty Hall, making it sound louder then it really was. Toothless twitched his ear flaps.

Finally, she heaved a heavy sigh and leaned back against the dragon's wing, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands. "Toothless, what do we do? Nothing has worked so far, I just-" She dragged her hands down her face, letting them rest at her chest. She stared up at the ceiling, her tired mind begging for sleep.

She slid off the bench, almost falling back onto it when her legs threatened to give out beneath her. Resting a hand on Toothless' head, she said, "Let's go find the Chief now, shall we?" The dragon hummed and followed close by her side as the two slowly made their way outdoors. 

She took her time walking through the quiet village. Everyone was asleep- besides an occasional night guard. But besides that, the only signs of life were a few dragons who shifted from their sleeping posts above the huts. It was calm and peaceful, as if everything was all right. If only it was.

She didn't even realize she was walking towards the Forge until she stood outside it's door. And, sure enough, she could see a faint light shining through the broken window. 

She stepped inside the open door and narrowed her eyes against the dim light. No one was in the Forge itself, even though a stubby candle flickered warily. Her eyes settled on the door to Hiccup's little room he used for "brain storming" and the light that shone beneath the wood.

She picked her way to it, and only paused outside a moment before opening it. 

She peaked inside. Hiccup sat hunched over his desk, his hand slowly scratching something onto a parchment. Either he didn't know she was there, or he did and was too bone-tired to acknowledge her. 

"Hiccup?" She asked quietly. He glanced up through the hair hanging over his eyes. 

"Mm, Astrid?" He graveled. His voice was deeper than normal, as well as slow and garbled. It was getting to the point where she couldn't understand what he said at times. "Iz somethin' wrong?" 

Yes. "No." She'd long since given up on pointing out his obvious self mistreatment. They both knew it, so what was the point of bringing it up?  Rather, she silently slipped inside, leaving the door open so Toothless could look in, though he himself couldn't fit in the room without knocking the table over. The poor dragon lowered his head, his eyes flicking from the floor to Hiccup, then back to the floor. He was curled into himself as if trying to make himself appear as small as possible. 

Hiccup looked past her and gave a small smile. "Hey, bud." Toothless hummed sadly.

She went to stand behind him, hesitated, then gently set her hand on his shoulder. He shuddered beneath her hand, but still didn't look up. He continued writing.

No on said anything, until she couldn't hold it in anymore. Hiccup's head kept dipping, but before it fell on the table he'd jerk back to attention, his body tense, then continue whatever it was he was doing.

"Hiccup-" She said.

"Hmm..?" He kept writing.

Desperately, She grabbed his wrist. He came to a halt, his breath labored. She turned and crouched down to his level, trying to look into his eyes. "Hiccup, please... please listen this time." 

His watery eyes met hers, his lips parted. But he didn't say anything, he just stared distantly.

"Hiccup, look at you. You're... you're falling apart." She lifted a hand to his hair, running it through until it stopped behind his ear. He let out a little sigh, his head pressing against her palm. His eyelids fluttered. He radiated heat, which worried her. 

"You're making yourself sick." She whispered. Toothless warbled in agreement. "You need to rest." 

"Mm'cant." He mumbled, his eyes closed.

She leaned closer and kissed his forehead. "I'll help you. I'll stay with you, and if you show any signs of a nightmare I'll wake you." 

He shook, his mouth pressed in a thin line. He suddenly leaned forward and hid his face against her shoulder, nearly falling out of the chair on top of her.

Toothless scooted forward, pressing his sides between the wall and the table as he rumbled in concern. With his help, they managed to lead Hiccup into the Forge by the dying fire, where Toothless pressed the two humans against his side, his body warm and comforting.

Hiccup was curled against Astrid's side, his body shaking like a leaf in the wind. When she shifted, the cold air hit her shoulder and she jolted. Her shoulder was wet.

"Hiccup, Hiccup-" She whispered over and over again. She pressed her face against Hiccup's hair. He heaved, letting a little sob cut the air.

"I'm sorry, Astrid, I'm sorry I just can't I-" He rambled nonsense, things that made no sense. One of his arms covered his face while the other gripped her hand against his chest.

She shushed him, rocking back and forth while she hummed an old rhyme her mother had sung to her as a child. Slowly, Hiccup's shaking began to cease, and his sobs turned to sniffs.

"I'm sorry." He murmured again, but his voice sounded distant, like he wasn't truly there.

"Shh." She hummed. "You don't need to apologize. Just rest." 

It didn't take long for him to fall asleep. They hadn't rested there for five minutes and he was already long gone. His breathing became heavier and even, his body less tense. Toothless seemed to sense it, for he himself relaxed beneath them, letting out a little sigh. 

Once Astrid had Hiccup situated comfortably against Toothless' wing, she curled up against his side, her head tucked beneath his chin. She had her ear pressed above his heart, where she could feel his every inhale and exhale. Soon, with relief pressing behind her eyes, she too drifted off to sleep.

[sparkesink]

Chapter 14:

Such Is, The American Dream

How Does One Write…

(When One Has Nothing To Write Upon?)

No Desperate Tragedy…

No Thrilling Woe.

My Rains,

(My Snout…)

Never Forced,

(Still Out.)

 The Most Difficult Task, 

(Writing Upon A Wim…)

Not Which Becomes A Light Source, 

(Discarded Amongst The Gray…)

But That Of The Smiles Which Roll Astray.

 The Memories That Stay,

Through A Drought-Full Snow…

Never…

(Really,)

Mattered…

We Always Destined…

(Take Such Blow.)

 I Had Never Imagined,

(The Difficulty…)

“Catch What You Sow…”

I Really Just Hope,

I Did Not Catch The Bow…

Allow Intellect,

(Power To Tow.)

Slow,

Sweet Ebb And Flow.

Only One Little Thing:

(Keep My Mind Low.)

 This Internet Shit Is Much Harder Than It Seems…

Seamless Integration,

Flawless Digital Frustration…

Hours Upon Hours Of Choices To Feed…

How Many Algorithm Marketing Targets Do I Need?

Constant Change,

(A Living Thing…)

Creating A Robot,

(Behind Your News Feed.)

Good Money Spent: 

(Just One Moment Of Your Time…)

Try Being More: 

Sensible, 

(Simply,) 

Speaking In Rhyme…

There Is No Easy Feet,

While Introducing Something New.

There Is No Target Audience,

(Per-say,)

In Lieu.

There Is No,

(One,)

Industry We Fall Within.

Shall We Write Code?

(Leaving Artistic Voice Shackled And Thin?)

Maybe The Camera Feel Cold?

While Contracts Come Tackled, 

(Spattered Upon Tin.)

How Can So Many Things,

All Come Shining Their Rings…

 And I’m Expected To Succeed…

(You Don’t Know:)

Not A Single Itch Of This Presentation…

Is Procured By Any Other…

(Than Me.)

One Little Girl,

Four Personalities…

All Separate In Their Beautiful Talents.

How Could Anyone Know…

(She Performs The Full Trapeze.)

Not A Building,

No Projects… 

(Between Groups…)

Just Me;

(Here,)

Trying Not To Cry.

Pushing A Project: 

(I Never Got To Practice.)

I Didn’t Go To College For Computer Science…

A Whole Degree Dedicated:

(The Science Of Marketing…)

I Didn’t Ask For This Work…

As It Laid It’s Beautiful Head Upon My Chest.

 I Was Given This Burden,

To Think And Create…

To Reach The Stars:

Give Them All Back… 

(Sensibly Late.)

 Heaven Forbid,

We Use Our Word,

To Speak…

(To Talk.)

Create Conversation,

(Substituting Reaction To Mock.)

 We Are Forced Language Of Societal Choosing,

From The Moment We Enter This World.

Here,

(Upon This Earth…)

Within This Reality,

At This Exact Moment In Time:

We Grow,

We Forget How To Talk…

We Let All Of The Bullshit Hide,

(Who We Really Are Inside.)

 That Happy Child,

Giggling With Your Mother…

She Raspberries Your Little Baby Belly.

She Kisses Your Forehead:

Promising Beauty Within Life.

Unconditional Love, 

(Regardless Societal Strife.)

Though, 

(At Some Moment…)

For Some:

Brief…

A Loss At Happenstance…

(A Loss Of Seconds To Breathe.)

For Others:

An Extensive Span Of Trauma And Fear,

Acceptance Washed,

(Blatantly Clear.)

 Do You Understand Fear?

Months Turned Years,

Consistent Fears:

Fear To Open The Front Door,

Fear Of Anything,

(Aside The Shore.)

I Broke Myself.

I Ignored Myself.

I Allowed Others To Abuse Me,

(Shamed The Woman I Could Be.)

I Feel Sick, 

Consistently At War:

I’ve Fought My Whole Life,

(My Truth Resides Within My Lore.)

 Do You Think I’m Privileged?

(I’ve Been Given A Hand Up?)

Could You Realize It All Came At A Price?

Do You Understand Manipulative Narcissistic Strife?

It Flows As The Waves Within The Sea,

(Maybe This Is Why It Consistently Captivates Me.)

 Though I Have Only Begun To Live This New Life:

One Of Health,

Truth,

Integrity,

(And Dignity…)

All Those Dark Memories:

Transparently Vibrant Through Stained Glass.

I’ve Been On This Emotional Ride Since Birth,

I Am Their Narcissistic Supply,

(Second Class.)

“My Worth”:

Highs And Lows,

“You’re Impressively Bland,”

“You’re Intelligently Stupid,”

“You’re Non Like The Rest,

As Soon As She Breaks,

Make Haste:

Take Her To The Test!”

Round And Round,

I Tumble Through Sea Foam,

An Eternity Caught,

(A Weightless Tomb.) 

 Little “B”,

So Soft And Sweet Was She.

She Crawled Beneath Her Bunk Bed,

Just A Moment To Breathe.

Forced To Obey,

Shunned If She Don’t Stay.

She Just Did Not Want To Play, 

(With That Little Girl,)

A Girl Who’s Cousin Fondled Her, 

(Post Six Years From A Six Year Old Twirl.)

She Moved Each Toy,

All Those Soiled Clothes,

She Placed Herself Perfectly…

Between The Mattress And The Floor.

She Only Six At The Time…

She Didn’t Understand, 

(Emotional Manipulative War.)

She Didn’t Understand, 

She Deserved Her Respect,

Her Heart Under-defined: 

(“Sore”.)

 She Hid Under That Bed,

Gasping For Breath;

Rocking Back And Forth,

Both Hands Entangled Her Head.

She Sat There Crying,

Though Silent She Must Be…

For If Anyone Found Her,

(Emotional Scrutiny.)

 She Learned To Sob Silently:

(No One Let’s The Girl Just Be.)

She Tucked Her Tears Within A Sock,

Bit Her Lip And Listened,

Counting The Clock…

Curious How Long She Could Disappear,

Before They Even Noticed,

“She’s Not Here.”

 One Hour,

Two?

(None Hadn’t A Clue…) 

Till Finally Her Mother Came Ringing Through…

She Heard Her Panic,

Thirty Minutes Gone By…

Is It Fucked Up,

She Enjoyed It?

(Hearing Mom Cry.)

 They Called The Police,

Worried She Had Been Taken;

She Finally Wiggled, 

(Mountains Of Emotion Shaken,)

Out Of Her Room,

(Snot Encasing The Entirety Of Her Face,)

Why Couldn’t You Understand,

(She Isn’t At Home In This Place.)

She Was Escorted To The Side Walk,

Directly Affront Her Claim.

She Sat Silent As The Officer Explain,

“You Cannot Hide From Your Parents,

This Is Bad.”

 So What If She Is Sad?

So What If She Has No Name,

So What If She Is Human,

So What She Lives In Shame?

She Is Six,

(Just Her Parents Property.)

Never Hit,

Welted Below The Belt…

(Emotionally Scarred.)

 Never Bled,

(Controlled,)

“The Person She Is… 

(Must Be Discard.”)

 “She Is Not Allowed To Be,

(The One She Is Meant To See,)

She Only Allowed To Be,

(The One I Want To See!)”

 Her Desires Shot,

Her Goals,

‘Just Silly Dreams…’

(Even Early Graduation Wasn’t Satisfactory To Thee.)

Her Dean’s List Scholars,

Scholarships At Sixteen…

“She Could Have Done Better,

Had She Only Listened To Me…

Had She Only Let Me Direct Her Life,

(Listened As A Sheep,)

Maybe She Would Be Normal,

Maybe She Wouldn’t Be… 

(A Fucking Head Case,)

Maybe She Would Finally Sleep.

She Could Live And Become ‘Normal’,

If She Would Only Just ‘Play The Game’…

Since She Refuse,

We Mock Her In Exasperating Blame.”

 Forward To Twenty-one Years,

(Now Enthralled Within Devine Game:)

A Rabbit Called,

His Eye Yellow Amongst A Brunette Mane.

He Scurried Diligently Amongst My Toes,

Furry Innocence Disregard Hidden Foes.

I Offered Him My Guidance,

A Compass Found,

(Hanging Amongst The Fir…)

 The Rabbit Shook His Tale In Great Exuberance,

My Third Eye Cringed Within Prominent Clairvoyance.

I Had Been Wandering For Days Amongst These Trees,

(I Hadn’t Expected To Find Creatures Such As These.)

The Rabbit Was First,

He Spoke Aloud,

(Whispered,)

Follow Me, 

(I’ll Show You Around.)

 All This Time Rummaging From Within The Trees,

Consistently Trudging Muck,

(Seeping Between The Leaves.)

 He Turned Timid,

Around And Around,

Figure-eights Between Each Tree:

Before A Days Pass,

He Guided Me,

Beyond The Forest Entrance, 

(Amass.)

 I Forfeited Precious Time Progressing,

(Before Encountering You!)

“I’m Back Where I Fucking Started!

You Beady Eyed Fool!”

 The Rabbit Appeared Different, 

(His Eye Gold Sprouting Orange:)

“Don’t You Get It?

I’m Not Here To Help You.

You Should Have Taken Interest, 

(Within Prior Warn.)

Enjoy Trudging Back,

Dusk Covers Within Mist Until Morn.”

 Then Out Of The Muck,

This Yellow-eyed Rabbit Disappear.

Leaning In Close With One Ear…

“FUCK!”

Kicking The Mud,

My Heart Sweltered Within My Chest,

My Knees Buckled,

(Demanded Rest.)

 One Should Never Follow The Rabbit:

(Fuck That Rabbit.)

Forgive My Language,

I Was Never One To Censor…

(I Should Have Procured A Sponsor.)

 Here,

Returned Upon The Beginning.

(Happy Anniversary To Me;)

3/14,

Another Beginning To Be.

I Suppose We Shall Try Again:

Follow My Heart,

Close What That Yellow Eyed Rabbit Left Tart,

Sever A Clean Part.

 Keep The Soul,

Sponge The Rest.

Remain Hopeful,

(This Is Not A Final Test.)

 I Suppose,

(To Me,)

It Seems Unbearable:

To Pull Myself From The Muck,

A Constant Reminder, 

Slivers Of Luck,

(Fuck.)

Purchased Clothing To Tuck,

To Be Taken Into Success,

Without A Harvey Weinstein Conclusion…

(Business Fueled By Your Sucking Skills;)

I Digress.

 No One Ever Talks About Modification Discrimination:

A Projected Judgmental Temptation,

Toward Self Expression.

Sighted Within The Way The Eyes Glaze,

Creases, 

(Between The Sinus,) 

Laze.

 Projecting Yourself As A Business Cog:

“Don’t Quit Your Job.”

 Bouncing Baby Blue,

Upon One Hip Or Two?

Can You Meet Next Wednesday?

Let Us Print Money For Few,

Don’t Mind The Toddler Fingers,

Find Purpose For My Mouth, 

(En Lieu.)

 Don’t Mind The Baby Babble,

(Mommy Wears Twenty Hats, Too.)

What Shall It Be Today?

Manning Landscape Stats?

Emotional Abuse? 

(Milk Toppled By Stray Cats.)

Mommy And Me,

Climbing Counters, 

(Refuse To Leave Be.)

Business Woman Performance:

A Joke,

(Scuffing Down Toke,)

Gaining Courage To Speak… 

(To Other Folk.)

 When Does This Feel Good?

When Does Satisfaction Creep My Soul?

(As I’m Told It Should.)

 Such An Interesting Observation;

(In Which I Stand Alone.)

Expressing My Soul… 

To Feel Sensation:

(A Cold And Lonely Tone.)

Choosing Printing Paper,

Juggling A Tired Toddler,

I Hold Her For Hours While Yawns Taper…

Which Ink Can Finally Coddle Her?

Could I Choose To Become A Cloud?

I Would Never Become “To Loud”.

I Would Never Drag Myself Through Sharpened Glass,

No Results Within My Mass.

I Could Be Beautifully Gazed Upon For All To See,

(While Remaining Far-away…)

Intact,

(With My Dignity.)

Removing Myself From Toxicity,

(Festering Within Such Simplicity.)

 I Dream Upon Days,

(Lost In Daze,)

With Him…

Fizzled Out Of Adolescent Faze.

Fingers,

(Twirling My Hair Up Within Them.)

Coffee In Bed,

Date Nights In Red,

Laughing,

Exuding Such Needed Encouragement Said.

“Good Morning Beautiful,”

Every Morning.

A Hazel Eye That Never Projects A Bore…

A Look That Never Dies,

Such Relationship, 

(Containing Exclusive Polite Lies.)

 Weekends In Adventure,

Dreamer Talk Of Tenure,

Clouds Positioned To Lend An Ear…

Speaking Of Peace And Beauty,

Without A Reminder Of The Muck…

Gaining Momentum…

(Circling Near.)

 Appreciation Of The Highs,

Consideration Of The Lows,

(An Anchor Lent Each Time It Shows.)

Walks Along The Beach,

Ability To Intellectually Teach…

A Woman, 

(Who Is Anything But What She Wants To Be.)

A Smart Ass,

(Behind An Extended Vocabulary.)

Something Equivalent,

(Capable In Loving What Cannot Become Seen.)

 Am I Lost?

Naïve?

Exclusive Denial Of What My Soul Is Screaming?

My Tower Leaning,

My Foundation Feening…

(Freely Poured Concrete…)

In Which Will Not Crack Under Pressure.

A Sentiment Of Force Capable To Hold,

(A Collapsing Infrastructure,)

Containing Such Vast Weight,

(Others Incapable Of Supportive Toll.)

A Crumbling “Eighth World Wonder,”

Supporting It’s Self Under Continuous Richter…

Acknowledging Important Features,

Cracking Off Remaining Seizures… 

(Demolishing Pertinent Structures…)

Praying To A One-way Conversation…

(Within Myself.)

 I Am Sick Of Being Sick.

Left Alone,

(Head Filled With Ideas Of “Home.”)

 Just Let This Pressure,

(Excruciating Weight From Within My Chest,) 

Dissipate…

Allow “Sensibly Late” To Mark Date…

I’ve Only Ever Desired Peace,

(Within Myself.)

 Countless Influential People Project The Same Bore:

“Follow Your Dreams, Determination Hangs Sore…”

When Does A Lifetime Of Unfortunate Events End?

When Will I Be Given Time To Mend?

What Is Time But A Linear Bend?

If There Is No Beginning…

(Subsequently,)

There Is No End.

 All Versions,

Within All Realities,

Upon All Timelines:

(Alive And Vibrant,) 

Simultaneously Thrive.

 Amongst A Paradox,

(Created Within Such A Reality, 

Accepted Through Current Consciousness…)

Somewhere, 

Along Some Timeline,

Within Such Reality,

Procured Through Such A Paradox…

In Which I Have Made This Work Worth Something.

 At This Very Moment,

In A Linear Timeline,

Upon A Parallel Paradox;

I Have Succeeded.

 The String Of Unfortunate Events Severed…

The Curse Lifted From My Ora.

I’m Left Staring Within This Same Pacific Ocean,

(Washed Away With The Sand.)

 What Does This All Mean?

(Why Me?)

Why Have I Been Chosen To Endure This Strife?

Why Must A Devine Test Be Inflicted Upon This Life?

Why Am I Here?

(A Breeze Guided Me Near.)

Why Hasn’t This Happenstance Become Clear?

When Will This Trepidation Recede?

Will I Remain Humble If Encased Within Greed?

Eight Years Of Sorrow And Woe,

(Why Does This Fucking Novel Breed Such Daunting Tow?)

 WHY AM I HERE?

WHY CAN I NOT SEE CLEAR?

AM I FACED TO ACEND WITHIN THE MIRROR?

WHY AM I FUCKING HERE?!?

 What’s This Ship Got To Do With Anything?

Why These Sands?

Why This Bay?

It Felt So Natural,

(Before We Came To Stay…)

The Cosmos Were Ringing,

Guiding Me Amongst This Shore,

Now Enthralled In Silence,

Saturated Within Thirty Days,

(Blood And Pain,) 

Payment For This Lore.

 I Peer Amongst These Ruins,

(Sunken Deep Within Our Sands…)

What Does This Old Ship Have To Do With Anything?

What Am I Doing?

 I Moved My Family,

Upon Premonition And Happenstance:

Guided Transition With Ease…

I Just Cannot Find My Purpose… 

(Amongst These Seas.)

 It’s As Though I Should Just Call It;

(Wave My White Flag And Surrender.)

Live Within Death:

Pull My Life Together,

(Ascender.)

 I Cannot Seem To Convince,

Which I Am Meant

A Fruit Gathered, 

(From Purposeful Quince.)

 Am I Writing In The Wrong Direction?

(I Cannot Seem To Find My Way.)

What Could I Become?

In Such Case Of Succession?

 This Lore Is All I’ve Ever Known…

My Key To Contentment Unknown.

How Could I Continue This Dream?

(My Work Greatly Unseen.)

 I Came Here Upon This Day,

To Wave Goodbye To My Bay.

To Kiss My Waves One Final Day:

I Kiss The Earth Which This Tattered Ship Lay.

I Cannot Continue This Silly Nonsense,

I Must Learn To Become Practical;

Build A Wall Around My Heart,

Coated Kevlar Tactical.

 The Coroner Always Gets His Way,

(Impractical To Believe I Could Stay…)

 Something Happened:

(I Have Black Chunks Re-written Within My Memory…)

A Night Called An Instance…

A Body Arrested Through Our Back Gate…

I Couldn’t Recall The Melody…

A Tiny Girl,

Standing In Our Backyard So Late.

 I Saw The Police Escort Him,

(From Back Through To Front,)

Why Was I There?

Did I Come Out To Confront?

I Was Told Our Chow Chow Bit Him…

(That Couldn’t Become Correct?)

For Had This Been Truth,

My Jazmine Girl Would’ve Become Laid To Rest…

 Were We Victim To Common Burglary?

Or Maybe…

I A Victim Of Something Grotesque. 

Why Are All Other Moments, 

(Surrounding This,) 

A Blackened Mess?

 Just One Slide,

Seared Within My Psyche…

Just One Man,

Blood Dripping Down One Pant Upon A Lichee.

Two Officers Restraining Each Hand…

Walking Through My Back Gate;

My Mother Weeping Amongst The Blue And Red,

Authoritative Lights: 

(Illuminating A Common Cul-de-sac…)

Why Was I In Back?

How Did I Get There?

Where Is The Archive;

(These Memories In Which I Lack?)

 This Chapter Is Shit, Any-who.

Written From Within The Desperation:

An Unemployed Failure,

Female,

Tattooed, 

(And Equally Discriminated.)

 I Don’t Think Many Realize,

I Manage Traffic Analytics…

Do You Know What It Is Like?

Working Diligently Upon A Project;

Simultaneously,

Nineteen Months Only One…

One Single Human Came To Visit.

 Do You Know What It Is Like?

Explaining Brilliance: 

To Pinheads In Suits Of Murk?

Endless Determination,

Anxiety Loaded,

(Maximum Pulsation.)

 What Would The Common Human See?

If Only To Look Past This Cover,

Do My Tattoos Cause Anxiety To Flee?

Could It Be?

For What Purpose Could You Possibly Leave?

Pretending To Understand,

When I Prove Fact:

(You’ve Never Even Ventured One Page Through This Land,)

Though, 

You’ve Graciously Provided Patronize,

(Enveloping Strength In Which You Lack.)

 Such A Shame,

A Vortex Cannot Become Undeveloped, 

(Once Given Life To Breathe…)

This Story Cannot Become Untold,

(Reaction To Mature To Leave.)

 Could You Evaporate Within The Fog?

Lending An Ear Amongst This Slimy Log?

 Maybe It’s Just Ahead Of It’s Time…

Maybe,

(One Day…)

My Words Will Not Become Overlooked…

Maybe You’ll Investigate;

(A Thorough Understanding Of This Song.)

 I Make Others Feel Uncomfortable?

(Speaking My Truth Is Unavoidable…)

How Can You Possibly Judge?

(There Has Been No Company Enthralled Within My Work.)

This Story Lay Stagnant:

Tattered Memories Of A Warrior Lurk.

 Then Again,

Who Ever Cared About The Survivor?

Veterans Homeless,

Left Within Insanity Amongst The Street…

A Jungle Few Understand,

Portraying Images Of War,

Within Survival Upon Distant Land.

Have You Been Without Shelter?

Do You Understand The Terror?

Sleeping In A Tent,

Praying For A Lucky Start…

Sleeping In The Back Of A Festiva,

(Two Lovers Between Two Dogs Is An Art.)

 Have You Ever Woken Up On a Stranger’s Floor?

Thanking The Sun For Another Day Of Lore…

Have You Experienced A Soul Saturated In Blood Stains?

(Those Chosen For Greatness Are Greatly Maimed.)

Do You Understand What It Could Feel Like?

The Pain Of Hunger Outweighs Pain Of Plasma Donations,

Joining Medical Research Studies,

Finances Supplied Only A Few Brief Moments To Breathe…

And You Look At ME?

 “Don’t Quit Your Day Job…”

 I Should Petition The Gods In Which I Dedicated My Soul,

But Then…

That Would Become Wrath…

And In Doing So I Endure Disown, 

From This Pursuit Of Becoming “Whole”.

 I Ponder Amongst My Thoughts:

How Dare You?

Patronizing Something,

(You Never Even Gave A Chance.)

A Research Experiment In Sloth And Judgment:

Could One Become So Busy?

Not Even A Seconds Chance?

Before Discarded? 

(Lousy?)

 There Will Become A Day,

Where Those Whom Shunned,

Come Flowing In Throughout Our Bay…

They Will Pretend To Believe In Divine Things,

(I Know They Only Bare Steel Woven Strings…)

 I Shall Look You Within The Eye,

Plant My Courage As I Say,

“Please, Walk On By.

Your Money Is No Good Here,

For I Had Plans You Could Have Received…

Instead?

You Left Me,

Here To Bleed.

I Cauterized My Wounds,

I Had No Assistance From Greed-written Fools.

 There Will Become A Day:

One Glorious,

Relieving Day…

In Which I Will Have Gained This Courage,

Take My Stand,

Show Off This Pearl-Glass Spine,

The One Abandoned Upon Needful Time.

 I Will Build This Myself,

I Will Become Relentless…

I Will Show The Judged:

I Cannot Be Rendered Senseless.

 You Cannot Break Me:

I Am The Mother Reaper.

 “What Exactly Are You Doing?”

There She Was:

Vivian,

(In The Flesh,)

Sitting Amongst That Moss Covered Log,

(Before Me.)

 “Didn’t I Explain?

Blatantly Clear?

Your Swimming Within Muck…

It Will Devour You,

You Foolish Buck.

No One Wants To Drown Within Your Quicksand,

Where Is Your Land?

You Sit Around Here,

Swimming In Mud And Blood…

He’s Fucking Waiting For You!

Get Your Ass Up!”

 She Held No Consequence, 

(A Royal Demeanor:)

I Stop To Acknowledge My Current Surroundings,

Listen To Logic…

Internalize Her…

 “How Are You Here?

I Mean, How Are You Within This Chapter?

I Am Alone Here,

Left To Retrospect…

A Blackened Cell Within A Writing Table…

Expected To Secure A Sable Label.”

 “You’re Past That, My Love…

You’re Swimming In Muck.”

 My Eyes Jaunt Aside, 

Then To Beneath…

My Skin Consumed In The Sticky Black Tar…

The Skulled Outlines,

Consuming Me Full…

They Paralyze Your Senses…

Construct False Locations…

 “Don’t You Get It?

You’ve Never Left This Lost Forest.”

 “For Which Do You Mean I Never Left?”

I Already Pulled Myself Up Out Of The Muck,

Stuck,

Undeniable Quicksand…”

 “The Faster You Pull The Quicker They Tuck…

You Must Be Cunning,

Haven’t You Learned Anything?

You Have No Receipt For Luck.

You Must Will It Off,

It Shall Cling To Your Soul If Not.”

Returning Her Casual Ignorance With Scowling Stare:

“That’s All Your Advice?

‘Will It Off’ While You Just Fucking Sit There?”

 “Yeah, You’re Being Weak.

Should I Spell It Out For You?”

 She, Sitting Upon Her Log:

Joint Cherried Upon One Hand.

She, Lounged:

Weight Shifted Left To Mock,

Legs Crossed Amongst The Dew.

Stiff Fingers Find Smoke Inhalation:

Kissing Fingerprints Along Each Solemn Drag…

 “You Saw The Rabbit?”

 She Leans In Close,

(Three Inches From My Thigh…)

Whispers:

“It Hurts To Climb High?”

 “No,

How Are You Here?

This Breaks All The Rules…

I’m Not Near…

It’s A Black Coated Fear,

This Chapter Is Within Me,

I Cannot Be Within This Lost Forest…

This Is Not Real…”

 Within Blinking Seconds:

The Scenery Flicker…

A Dark Interrogation Room,

One Light With That Writing Table Central:

Drowning In Blacked,

Living Tar…

The Mud-blood Creatures Sleeking Upon My Mind…

 Gasping For Breath;

One Eye Opened From Between This Slim Kind,

Vivian Kissing Her Joint…

Watching Me Suffer…

The Slime Covers My Mind,

Desperate,

Desperation,

Within That One Table Cell…

 She Whispers:

“It’s Coming…

That Dream…

It’s Your’s To Capture, 

Doll-face…

 You Want Your Salvation?

Your Dreams Turn Reality?

Disregard Temptation?

Just Get Up,

Find Your Way Through This Lost Forest…

The Galaxies Owe You Reciprocated Payment,

You Already Succeeded…

Just Wake Up!”

 Devoured Within Blackened Tar,

Jade Sit Within The Corner Of My Cell,

(Right Far.)

Sobbing Amongst Herself…

 “I Have A Forest To Navigate,

I Cannot Save Her Here…”

 An Unseen Sensation,

A Delicate Hand,

Index And Thumb Clenching My Conch…

Ripping My Ear, 

Out From Within The Clear.

 “Find Your Will To Walk,

My Subtle Naive Friend…

You Better Prepare:

The Land Beyond This Is A Living Jungle,

The Circus Will Lead Your Final Test…

 It’s Coming For You,

All Those Passionate Desires: 

Pleads For The Best…

Living Light,

Past The Circus…

 Glorious Wonders You Could Never Imagine,

Endless Salvation…

Gifted To Those Suffering Temptation:

You Must Finish,

You’re Meant For This.”

“I Don’t Know If I Am:

My Shoulders Can’t Take Anymore Weight…”

 “You Silly Fool,”

Vivian Snarking From Between Strings Of Muck,

(Spiderwebbing My Appearance:)

“Remove The Toxic Parasite Upon Your Luck!”

 Sure Enough, 

I Straighten My Spine,

Stand Within The Blood,

(Two Vertebrae A Time…)

His Smile Grin Beyond This Blackened Muck…

The Corner,

Disguised In Luck…

His Sweet Face Shift,

Those Green Bifocals Lift…

 “You Have No Power Over Me!

Return To Where You Came, Be!”

 Within Astonishing Grace,

I Remove His Toxic Control,

Willing Him The Size Of A Rabbit Face.

I Gently Place Him Back Within The Muck…

 “You Cannot Control Me,”

I Kiss His Forehead In Empathetic Laze,

“I Cannot Continue As Your Puppet,

Tethered To Abusive Greedy Strings, Ablaze.”

 This Little Toy Man,

In This Little Toy Boat…

Evaporated, 

Taken Amongst The Creatures, 

(Within The Quicksand: Despair.)

 Dripping In Toxic Goo,

I Straighten My Spine,

Now Three Vertebrae A Time…

 “Ahh, Now You Understand…

The Brave Of Heart,

The Relentless Conquer This Land…

Here, 

Wipe Yourself Off,

Inhale This Toke,

Find Relaxing Enjoyment Within Your Cough.”

Vivian Lent Me A Silk Handkerchief, 

(From Within Her Brassiere.)

 “Now Listen Here,

I’ve Willed Paths Within This Forest:

Three Guarded By Rabbit,

One Left Free And Clear.

Just Follow Your Heart,

You’re Intelligent Around Here:

Wait For Your Moment…

It’s Coming Near.”

 She Evaporated Within This Forest Mist,

A Fine, 

Black, 

Shear, 

Delicate,

Smoke Dissipated Before My Iris.

The Handkerchief Now Sizable, 

(Equal To That Of A Blanket Towel.)

 I Remove The Blood From Amongst My Skin,

Watching The Remanence Dance Amongst The Fabric:

Alive In Devaluation,

Desperation,

(Despair.)

 I Look Back Amongst The Muck,

One Final Time:

The Corner’s Greed-Colored Bifocals Sink,

Accompanied With A Porcelain Grin…

I Sat In Grief,

(Watching Them Slip Beyond The Blood, Water Thin…)

 “I’m Sorry,

I Am The Mother Reaper…

You Cannot Break Me:

I Must Live Beyond This Mud, 

Tasting Of Tin.” 

 Grief Stricken Relief.

[tessatechaitea]

Team Titans #24

Zero Hour is here, business itches!

Ending sentences with "bitches" has always been a super fun way to emphasize a sentence and pretend that you're about to cap a motherfucker in the ass. But since I'm trying to stop using the word "bitches" and my friends all keep yelling at me that my replacement word, "retards," is way worse, I needed to come up with a word that rhymes with bitches. I'm not sure "business itches" works perfectly but it almost sounds like I'm jazzing up bitches in a white person trying to be more urban kind of way. And I don't mean "black" when I say "urban," although I wouldn't argue with somebody who says I did just that. I don't have time to go to law school at one of the top fourteen elite colleges just to learn how to argue that lies are truth and truth are lies! But I do have time to say, "We'll just have to agree to disagree!" What about "Zero Hour is here, Quidditchers!"? No? You know who the most tiresome people in the world are? People who constantly declare that we can't say anything anymore. You can say whatever you want! But you're expressing something inherent in yourself when you go to bat for specific things you want to keep saying. I don't know what the things people can't say anymore are because they never tell you specifically the things they want to keep saying that they can't. Which seems telling, doesn't it? It's as if they want their argument to seem reasonable by including a bunch of things that they can't comprehend people being angry at them for saying. Maybe things like "kittens" or "can of beer" or "onstage masturbation cage." But they never say anything that makes me think, "Whoa. You shouldn't say that," when they say that people can't say anything anymore. Give me some examples! But you know you won't get any examples because then they'll have to defend wanting to say some things that might make people ask, "What kind of person wants to keep saying that?!" Some dumb people might feel the gears in their brain beginning to spring to life, leading them to respond, "But didn't you just say you're not going to say 'bitches' and that your friends yell at you for saying 'retards'?! See? You can't say anything anymore!" To those people, I'd just like to point out that A. I just said both of those words so you're wrong and B. I've made the personal choice not to use certain language in casual ways. My use of the word "retards" in the previous context was carefully chosen for the joke. You'll notice I didn't call anybody that no matter how slow the gears in their brains took to spring to life. Plus, I have also used the word "dumb" at the beginning of this sentence which would get some people up in arms at me. But even if they messaged me and said, "You're an ableist motherfucker, you motherfucker!" (but with a word that probably isn't shaming people who fuck mothers. I actually don't know any curse words that somebody can't make problematic with a hot take!), remember that thing I said about law school? I don't have time to learn to argue these things! Maybe at some future date, I'll come around to their way of thinking and stop calling stupid morons dumb (and maybe morons too (and stupid? Is stupid bad?!)) but until then, I don't feel like I can't say it just because some people get mad at me for saying it. I'll take the verbal haranguing and just get on with my life. And if I feel that they've made a great point, maybe I'll apologize. I mean, I won't apologize or admit I did anything wrong! But maybe I'll surreptitiously change my behavior in the future! We can't all be fucking Tumblr saints like Wil Motherfucking Wheaton! Man, I really heard it that time. The term "motherfucker" is really problematic! The people with the slowest gears in their brains probably just finally spat out the term "virtue-signaler" after reading all of that. Interesting how a certain type of people who think they can't say anything anymore have come up with a specific term to shout at people saying things they'd rather those people didn't say. It's weird how they ignore how being angry that they can't say certain things sort of signals their anti-virtue? I mean, that might not be true but there's an easy way to prove me wrong: be specific with the things you can't say when you say you can't say anything. If you just want to call your dog fat in public, you might want to realize that, by not expressing that specific expression, people might think you want to spout the n-word willy-nilly. See how maybe you'd want to clarify that? Unless, I mean, is it possible you just want to go around saying the n-word? Normally, I'd actually type out the n-word in a conversation like this. But you can't say anything anymore! Without consequences, I mean! You know, I think I'd be fine with their argument if they just added "without consequences" to the end of it. It would be a hell of a lot more honest. "But it makes life so hard when you have to deal with repercussions!" For transparency's sake, I just did a search of the word "nigger" on my site and found it used in seventeen different reviews (eighteen counting this one now too, I suppose!) which seems like an awful lot (even considering I've got over four thousand reviews. That's less than half of a percent! I guess I have to admit to being 0.5% racist now. Hmm, that seems like a lot written out like that. I am the monster everybody has been telling me I am!). Most of the entries seem to be discussions on the conservative use of the word thug as a stand-in for the n-word or discussing the "euphemism treadmill." A few of them are discussing Quentin Tarantino. At least one was me parodying Xbox users. Obviously none of them were derogatory or meant to be hurtful. But a few may have been too casual and edgelord-y in the mentioning of the word. I'd say out of those seventeen uses, only one really made me cringe. It was less the usage of the word and more the anti-Tumblr rant I went on that day. I almost sounded like one of those assholes who blames their retreat into right-wing fascism on being called out by social justice warriors! I must have had a bad day where somebody complained that I called a woman a barn owl and I had and I knew that I shouldn't have and I was acting defensive. Sorry about that, Internet! I'll do better! I was going to link to some of those posts but then I thought, "Why should I?! If somebody is so obsessed with my use of a word, they should have to damn themselves by typing it into the search bar!" See? Sometimes using a word is a necessary evil! Now that I've completely ruined my reputation and confused people with my personal non-rhyming slang "barn owl," I should probably read Team Titans #24. According to the cover, it has dinosaurs!

The weirdest part of Zero Hour was the laugh track.

Proclaiming the story you just spent years writing was so terribly written that only idiots would enjoy it might not be the great meta-dialogue you thought it was. The editors at DC were like Australians importing foxes and cats to get rid of their imported rabbit problem. But instead of using invasive species to manage other invasive species, they decided using time travel and alternate timelines were the best way to cure the DC Universe of a time travel and alternate timeline problem. You would have thought destroying all of the alternate Earths would have taken care of the problems with alternate timelines. But you and the DC editors forgot that terrible writers would still use alternate futures of the same Earth to prop up their inability to write well. But also, since Crisis fucked up so many characters' points of origins (see my non-existent Infinity, Inc. reviews in an alternate timeline where I actually purchased those comics), Zero Hour was needed to just restate all the origins of all the characters. What better way to do that than to fuck with the main DC timeline?! What could go wrong (aside from losing all of the Hal Jordan fans)?! Monarch explains that to create a world where he controls everything, he had to send 600 Team Titans into specific points in the past to change things just the right way for events to bring him to power. It's a good thing that, naturally, events happened to bring him to a point where he could send 600 Team Titans into the past to change the future that made his future control of everything possible! Fucking time travel. Suck every dick! The issue begins like any other confusing, contrived, and convoluted Team Titans issue:

With a boy just recently resurrected getting trampled to death by mammoths.

The randomly resurrected people and feral mammoths probably weren't specifically part of Monarch's plan. But when you fuck with time, you're going to have to deal with some truly fucked up consequences. Herald and Bumblebee save the rest of the pioneer family from being killed. But afterward, the racist pioneer calls Herald a derogatory name and he's all, "Their remarks were offensive as hell!" And Bumblebee's response is, "You've become so political since you reached legal drinking age." What the fuck kind of response is that?! How is not wanting to be called a racial slur political?! And why the fuck would turning twenty-one make any difference?! Maybe it would make more sense if I knew anything about Herald and Bumblebee. I think they were important to the Titans in the early series which I never read. Meanwhile, dinosaurs are rampaging around Seattle's Capitol Hill district. And then Hero X, a Team Titan, gets eaten by a pterodactyl. I feel like it's supposed to be a funny moment but the laughs from the laugh track are missing and, I mean, a character just died. And that shouldn't be funny, even if the character was some jerk named Hero X. Unsure what might be happening, Bumblebee and Herald decide to take the Team Titans back to New Jersey to regroup with the other teams.

Ha ha! Automation! Artificial Intelligence hasn't gotten any better in the future if it's coming up with terrible super-hero names like that. Also, not everybody is there, Herald. Have you forgotten about poor Hero X already?!

Ugh. The same boring dinosaur fights around earthquakes with Titans saving people at the last second happens over and over and over again. Finally, Terra says, "I think we were being manipulated like pawns on a chessboard!" And, in the future, Monarch answers her! "Oh, if you only knew the extent of it, Terra! How my confusing and contrived and convoluted plan worked to a tea! Or is that a tee? Oh, fuck it! Who cares?! I am Captain Atom and I will...I mean, I am Hank Hall, also known as Haw, and I now rule the world! I think. How does time work again? Shouldn't my plan have already come to pass since I'm in the future? Why am I the future me that existed before I changed the past and still exist now that I've changed it? No, no! Don't think about it for too long! Just think about the name I'll use after Monarch. It has to be dignified and glorious and intimidating! So far I'm having a tough time picking between Bloodfestor and Extant!" Team Titans #24 Rating: F. What a terrible fucking end to a mostly terrible comic book. And I don't feel like I'm being mean or that my rating would hurt Jeff Jensen's feelings. He's the guy who called his own run on the Team Titans "confusing, contrived, and convoluted!"

[yolandajulius]

Common Magic

A one shot because of course this drabble decided it needed to be a oneshot.

Because people plant cute ideas for ships in my mind and Yolie’s parent figures are all terrible role models. Safe for consumption if you can handle it.

A stronger man would have moved o.

That was what crossed Noudenet's mind almost daily; the feeling he should have simply kept walking to his destination, the fact he could and shoulf have easily ignored the young outsider whom came to Ishgard with a scant handful of other nonbelievers by will of House Fortemps. But he didn't and the conjurer couldn't help his irritation with himself. The woman was a Garlan, and thus she didn't even have the most basic of the Fury's blessings -- the gift of magic. But, he supposed, from listening, she had other qualities, he supposed, and for those he was able to make peace with the twinge of guilt at letting himself grow close.

She was an outsider, a non-believer, but she wasn't judging him when he lingered, speaking of the Fury's will. She listened, quietly taking it in, asking questions. Some were like those of children, others, far more challenging but no less respectful, harboring the ring of curiousity of one whom genuinely cared about what they believed. She always heard him out in silence, simply working on her cookery as she did, and she was never one to seem unreadable. On a level, she seemed to even enjoy it.

Prtjspd hr'f mskr s brlirbrt og hrt yrt, nuy thrn voild he trouble her with thje sin of how close they were? Noner whm believed would dare treat a member of the Heavens' Ward so casually. They were on a pedestal, a platyform that left a sense of disconnect between them, and the people, at times. It was certainly unlikely they'd continue their quiet moments, Noudenet buried deep in his resrearch, seated on a floor with pillows while she laid her head on his legs to rest, safe and secure in the trust he would let no ill come to pass. That...

Noudenet supposed he would miss tyhat trust, innocent as it was. She might treat him like others did, not as the companion she came to share her cooking projects with, the man she'd learned to trust with her joys and woes. They'd lose that connection, he feared -- a connection he greatly vbalued. He'd miss her smile, her lack of fear in telling him her feelings about events, the honesty with which they spoke. She was genuine, polite, considerate, careful, and kind. It wasn't the kind born of generations of grooming and stilted church lessons of modesty and compassion -- she had learned it in the wilds and that was a rare gift. Still, a styronger man would have passed her originaly.

Noudenet approached the space Yolanda preferred to practice -- she didn't mind being watched, so long as nobody minded testing what she made, and that was how they'd met. Halone be good, but the man never refused a good fruit tart, or rolanberry jam-filled anything, to even begin. and this Garlean woman was a culinarian of some skill. To thinmk she was self-educated to cook and bake blew him away. She ravenously tried new recipes and shared the results for weal or for woe -- nothing was wasted, but Noudenet found it rather comforting to be able to wait patiently for her sweets.

Noudenet's reverie was fiercely interrupted by the warm scent of a cookfire, filling his nostrils with the scent of fresh meats, spices and herbs telling him she'd gotten hold of some dhamel chuck that was being seared and roasted on the flames, and he drew to the crowd lazily, taking in the scent of basil and rhyme, sage and a faint aromatic of cinnamon and clove, the woman carefully bastingthe cut of meat with a butter sauce to glaze it, and Noudenet wondered what she might be making. The delicate aromatics were accented, on closer inspection, with what he suspected -- cinnamon and clove with a smattering of rich dark maple sugar to compliment the herbs; the butter sauce was warmly golden, bits of minched garlic and onion in it, and the slowly forming crust spoke of salt and groundf black pepper, but Noudenet diudn't move much closer at first, watching silently. Yolanda nodded to him silently, a small smile forming before she hummed, removing some popotoes to slip deep in the embers -- so, it was mostly a roast she was trying to make taste right. For now, at least -- and Noudenet drew himself to a position of espectful curiousity to watch. Slow roasts could take time, but she'd clearly been set up most of the day, meaning his timing for her to begin practicing sweets was perfect.

It was dascinating to see how one cooked without magic. Unable to properly manipulate crystals of water or fire, and yet capable of taking naturally occuring -- or crystal-originating water and flame to create the same thing was almost mesmerising. She moved expertly, yet still clearly learning, removing the roast dhamel from the flame to slice on a clean, wide stone slab silently,allowing the meat rest before beginning to wash a mixing bowl with a pail of water, clearly one of many. Noudenet watched silently as she worked to create a simple flatbread, pouring the batter on a second stone she placed on the fire, waiting for it to heat through, batter on top and all with a gaze of wonder. Nothing would be prepared together, and that was normal. Those whom knew the woman's cooking space and came often didn't expect a meal, they enjoyed a curiosity, and she seemed aware,slicing the roast in silence before sharing the cuts with those gathered, and Noudenet scowled to himself -- she'd taken to using her aged lance to cook again, and while she was not a Dragoon he could almost feel the one or two present wince, but there wasn't much to do for it. She didn't own a proper spit. Noudenet accepted a heel carefully, wondering if it might be as sweet and savory as it smelled, and contemplated silently, sllowing himself to pick the flavors apart. It wasn't the finest combination, but it was perhaps the sweetness, too strong for the liking of the conjurer when iyt came to his meat. Still, it was far from blande, and he was no culinarian. He watched as he ate small bites of the food in silence still. The flatbread was off the stone, sliced to share with those gathered as she poured the rest of the batter out, before beginning to clean out her bowl before removing a second. He hoped it meant she made sweets soion, and she didn't disappoint him when she pulled some rolanberries and walnuts from her sack, the conjurer lighting up atthe sight as she hummed, beginning to prepare a simple butter and sugary syrup to add things to as she cleaned the berries and nuts. Noudenet looked somewhat hopeful as she worked to start heating the berries, allowing them to simmer but not burn, turning to remove the potatoes and passing them to some Brume lowborn whom often came to watch as she worked on slicing and sharing flatbread. This he passed, even as he finished the meat -- his eyes locked on the slowly cooking fruit, walnuts awaiting adding to the candying process, and he was not disappointyed as she soon added them and stirred the mixture. She then began to work on a dough -- filo, if he recalled correctly, which meant laminating butter in and -- oh. A touch of pink came to his ears as he finally cast the woman a questioning look, earning a coy smile in response tht answered his unspoken question before he hummed.

"Yiu forgot the creamed cheese." He said firmly. Yolanda made a noise of surprise before iut sank in, and she frowned, considering her options as she paused,a voice huffing.

"Typical, the unbelievers are so useless." Someone muttered. "Especially Garleans -- who can expect some barbaric race to know anything? The Fury doesn't even gift them magic -- worthless, really."

The commentary was low, the sort common in a gossiping group and a few murmured assessment -- new facs mostly seeking to see what drew a crowd, and Noudenet watched silently at the brief, but telling movements the woman made. A twitch, a slight wince and a cringe, before he reached impulsively and ran his fingers throughher hair to cup her cheek.

"I can fetch some. It's an honest mistake." He spoke, voice soothing before the Ward Knight moved off, eyes judghing those murmuring with scathing disapproval. Were they thaumaturges or conjurers themselves? Their garb spoke not, instead mostly of lowborn or lower nobles, those more inclined to shun an outsider, but magicians? Hardly. His errand was executed swiftly -- taking to the crozier to collect the needed materiels before he returned. They were gossiping, of course.

"Do youthink she even knows how to make things right?" someone muttered. Another scoffed.

"I heard in Garlemald they barely eat anything. Coerthans have better fare."

"That blandpile? Makes you wonder what she thinks she's doing."

Noudenet scowled sharply once more, gaze disapproving as he took in every face present, reading them before drawing close to the woman he cared for, pressing the supplies into her lap gently.

"Here you are, these will suffice." Noudenet soothed, but his gaze never fully left the newcomers, appraising them thuroughly. Not a magician among them, he concluded, and Noudenet sniffed his disdain, rising towards them, but not moving from his position close to the woman.

"T'would seem she has a far better grasp of the Fury's teachings than a lot of ill-bred, ill-mannered children whom have naught better to do with themselves than judge a woman attempting to find the true path to the Fury's Halls." Noudenet scolded sharply, letting his judgement sink into their terrified expressions. He never once tried to force Yolanda's hand, but a little creative phrasing? There was no sin in that, and he greeted her startled expression with a calm, reassuring gaze, nodding politely.

":Do not let the words of ill mannered smallfolk trouble you, Miss Julius." Noudenet soothed. He dared not pull her to him to shield -- he didn't dare risk a threat to her safety with the harridans present. "You cook well enough and everyone makes mistakes learning a new recipe besides. None will judge whom seeks to remain on the path to the Fury's halls and those whom might may yet earn Her disapproval."

The message was rather clear. Although wrapped in reminders of the scripture that guided Ishgard, by the Fury's disapproval, he meant his, and by his, he meant judgement, the ill spoken moving away nervously before scrabbling for their homes. Noudenet knelt, and watched her work, pulling a card with her intended pastry recipe from her belongings to verify how to use the creamed cheese before making an awkward, sheepish noise before working it into the warm compote and nuts, watching the woman waiut for her dough to proof if slowly, before smiling faintly as she began to turn dough into a fruit and nut jam-like filled pasty, watching her gently seal each parcel and brush egg on it to let it turn golden, before placing the treats on the styone and covering them to create her oven. It was imperfect but it was something, and she mostly cleaned as they waited, quiet for once as she worked before looking away when her hands fell idle. Noudenet knew this look all too well and he never liked it -- she was troubled by what had been said, both what he heard and likely missed, the conjurer staying byher in silence with others about. She didn't meet his gaze, didn't look at anyone -- her mind was deep in thought, and Noudenet finally allowed himself to worrry. When she was like this he wanted to hold her to him and heal the pain she didn't show on the flesh, but the soul, and his fingers ran throughhis hair these times as he would murmur reassuring proverbs in her ear. They were quiet moments when he wasn'ta Knight of the Heavens' Ward but a man who simply wished to offer some modicum of succor to the worn soul of the person he cared for. And right now he was in public, unable to act beyond silentlystanding close, allowing her to feel him standing by her side watching. It wasn't enough for him, though, and it dogged him.

Finally, however, the thrice-damned lid was off and the pastries moved to cool from baking, which meant soon he could do something about it, and not a moment too soon. The quiet was making him uncomfortable and the conjurer felt himself shift to fidget as he often spotted Grinnaux, Paulecraine, or, even though it was rare, an act Charibert even indulged in, the conjurer allowing frustration to wash over him like a blizzard. He appreciated the care she exercised in baking and cooking, but the woman was being damnably slow right now, and he wished she moved a little more swiftly -- he had little patience for the melancholy she'd allowed to wash over her, and was quite eager to spirit her away from things to do something about it, and as a hrealer, it frankly bothered him to be idle while someone was in clear and apparent pain. Yolanda finally deigned her attempt at filled croissants completed when she began to pass them to those whom remained -- faces Noudenet recognized. They knew where the real rewards of her cookery lie, and they didn't seem to judge. Instead he waited, letting them take the free pastries with gratitude, perhaps more than normal considering the tonguelashing he left the less kind, but still gratitude before she offered him the last, the conjurer taking it gently as she began to clean, putting the fire out after allowing it to consume what it could of fond on her pans, and the conjurer allowed himself to indulge in the creamy and sweet flavor of the pastry, eyes closing. Fury take him, but the woman knew her fruits and flavors with sweets and were he still living as his father's house he'd have seized on the woman for his wife long ago. It was sweet, selicately sweetened with just a smallamount of maple sugar and honey, but tart and hardy, and the earthy walnuts broughtthe flavors together ina warm embrace to his palate, the Ward Knight closing his eyes and losing himself in the treat several silent moments, sighing softly in contentment as he ate. The woman simply... There were no words for how Noudenet felt about her baking -- but if this was an apprentice to that Miqo'te, then the miqo'te was a phenominal chef and teacher. Well, he'd seek him out if Charibert sought some gingertsnaps or something. Noudenet was wrtapped around the woman's pinky, and for several moments he could forget thata Garlean could never perform great feats of magic -- no skill in the arts of thaumatyurgy, conjury, or anything properly magic but cooking? She was magic there in another way, a way that afforded her a skill for delicious fgood even if the materiuals for cooking were often poor for her location or the textures imperfect. She was magic in the art of cooking, and when he opened his eyes from savoring the pasyry, they were alone, Yolanda watching in some concern.

"Did I ruin it?" She asked finally. Noudenet swallowed, and placed his fingertips along her jawline, eyes boring into hers fondly.

"No, not at all, my violet. I simply wished to savor the pastry. It was quite exquisite, and you'd have it perfect in a proper kitchen." Noudenet's fingers trailed along her chin and jaw softly, the Garlean turning pink and looking away.

"I can do better. The fruit overcooked, the roast was oversweetened, and I'm all but sure that fglatbread was underseasoned." She huffed. "I'm not getting this right at all. Maybe they're right."

There it was. Noudenet's fingers moved of their own accord, brushing hair from her face before taking her chin in his fingers, giving her a quiet, hard look.

"They were judgemental fools whospoke out of turn of things they know nothing of. You really mustn't give weight to their words, my violet. They're merely insects seeking to takeof you, and give nothing. A fire crystal is naught but a crystalfrom which fire is produced,awater crystal naught but acrystal from which weater is produced. You create both of that which the Fury provides all of us."

Yolanda was thoughtful, allowing herself to trn his words over in her mind, and he offered her his arm politely, the Garlean accepting it before he drew her close to walk with her, letting the quiet help his words sink in before she spoke.

"Temperature affects food." She finally admitted. "And the conditions they cook in. Crystals can help change that." Yolanda looked down hesitantly, frowning. "I can't use them to control heat or moisture as well. Wild fire is hotter than aetheric, right?"

"Not so, my violet." Noudenet felt a faint surge of excitement wash over him -- a chance to tell her of the way of magic, even if she could not use it herself, was still something he could share. He led her for the Vault, keeping her close to him to ensure none questioned as he guided her for his cell, almost giddy at the opportunity. When he entered, the Garlean was quietly focusd on the floor, seeming to studythe mortar binding ancient stones as he led her to sit upon his bed. Noudenet diud not sit. The conjurer closed his door before witthdrawing a handful of crystals, turning to her gently as he cradled them with quiet pride, feeling their aether dance in his fingertips like lightening or flames, the potential raising his excitement as he handed them to her.

"You know what these are meant to do, yes? Each represents another element. Earth, water, ice, flame, wind, lightening. That's what each produces when asked of it by those capable." He did not forget her inability to use them, and she looked away, down to the aetherically charged crystals as if begging them for some miracle that they might spontaniously react to her will, and Noudenet placed his hands around her own, calling the elements wiuthin to respond to him, startling her as he continued.

"They each offer us a means to access their gifts. You call them through other ways. Perhaps, not aetherically or magically but it is no less a call. You take flint to metal for fire, yes?" Noudenet focused on the fire crystal, the others growing inert again as the flame crystal heated rapidly, Yolie fasping and dropping it with a yelp, and the flame burgheoning withered again as Noudenet kept his grasp, wuilling water forth from the water crystal to soothe her burns a moment. He was quick to coax her to drop the lightening crystal lest it react as her hands filled with clear water before he ceased his summons of it, his larger hands remaining around her own smaller gently, supporting her hasnds so she could see. Feel.

"And the water is similar. There is no difference from them and your methods. The flames still burnt, the water still soothed, and is fine for a drink or wash or cooking. There is absolutely nothing wrong wuith your methods."

"But I can't use magic. That makes others look at me as poorly."

There was quiet, Noudenet reading her face quietly before he collected the crystals, placing them back in his supplies before moving back, allowing her to drinkthe water he called in her hands before pulling her into him, allowing her head to rest on his breast silently as his fingers worked her hair free of her normal ponytail to begin running through her hair softly, sighing. There was the root of her distress, something even the archbishop himself could not cure. A Garleancould not do a spell; they had no aethericv ability and never would. They lacked even children born with the Echo, and while at one time Noudenet had himself considered it a pitiable trait, he had come to resent how it affected Yolanda, the woman leaning into him as she sighed. She was clearly about to disparage herself and Noudenet shiftled his fingers tocup hert chin, pulling her to look at him softly, his other arm coiling around and reaching to take her hands to offer the gentle touch of healing magic to her burns, the counjurer, perhaps, also trying to shield her from the cruel fact of her birth.

"No, you do not work magiuc of the aether as many races do." Noudenet said, but conviction laced his voice. "But you do magic. Garleans do not use what we do but we need teachers to learn magitek. To create fire of a stone and a bit of metal. Magic makes matters too easy. You work with only what the gods give us and not with crystals. You are of a people whom learned to take little and make much more. Yours isn't aetheric or magic as it is defined but magic nonetheless in it's own right, which is a skill tyhat can be taught." Noudenetpressed a kiss to the top of her head before she glanced up quietly, the conjurer keepingher embraced, held to him closely.

"Yours are skills of merit. You must not lose sight of the skills you've fought to learn my violet, or you'll lose what you've gained. Please, my violet, do not give those curs that. They're below you." He sighed, letting that seep into her mind and bones, holdingthe woman close to him as she nestled in, thoughtfiullyparsing what he told her. The conjurer was content though; enjoying the company of her presence and the warmth of another person. Were he asked, he would say she was a pupil, of a kind, seeking to understand Eorzeran custom, or the Word of the Fury, and naught else. He would see to it them she was safely home, but for now he took in the knowledge her breath slowed from a slight panic, to the peaceful calm she enjoyed -- a sign his intent took seed. The elezen nuzzled at her ear softly, eyes closing some as he steeped himself inbthe scent of wood smoke and cooked food, metaland leather, and of another being, allowing himself to get lost in a daydream where he might whisk her away from House Fortemps and perhaps away from Ishgard, someplace they might be together with eyes unclouded by religious opinion or racist judgement. Maybe someplace like Gridania; she had mentioned camping in the Shroud often, and the conjurer's guild was there; or perhaps in Cylbrand, or...Anywhere they might enjoy the chance to be with one another freely, without judgement or fear, and the Ward Knight sighed softly, earning a shift of movement from his companion.

"Are you alright?" She asked him softly. Noudenet hummed.

"Day dreaming." He responded softly.

"What about?"

"...Rolanberrypie." He bluffed, and she laughed, relaxing him some to know she'd cheered enough, and he didn't resist returning the smile she facored him with.

"One-track mind." She teased softly, and he pulled her knuckles to him, pressing his lips to them lightly with a twinkle in his eye.

"Well, perhaps if I were a stronger man I could resist your culinary experiments, but I am as I am, and you know it." He teased softly, and she smiled, giggling again.

For now, all was right in Noudenet's world, and nothing seemed to be changing that for some time.

[krreader]

ensorcell | chapter 1

pairing: prince!taehyung x reader fandom: bts warnings: non idol!au ; prince!taehyung genre: fluff ; angst ; smut

summary: it was funny, how meeting one single person could change your life forever. you were ordinary, he was not. he was rich, you were not. he fell in love with you and so did you. even though he was never supposed to.

a/n: can we talk about my rhyming skills please? no? okay lol. then let’s talk about my newest kink, aka prince!taehyung. because look at that gif. if he’s not prince material, idk anymore. (also, in case I need to clarify it: (Y/B/F) means your best friend)

ask box | masterlist | fandoms | faq | multifandom reader blog

“Stop brooding, it's going to be so much fun!” your best friend pulled you after her inside the house, people already lying around drunk out of their minds before you could even reach the front door, “There's going to be alcohol, boys and you might just get laid if you're lucky.”

“Can't we just go to Panda Express, instead? I'll even pay!”

“No! You never go to parties, which is why you're still single! But it's time we change that! Tonight, you're going to find your soulmate.”

She opened the door, only to have a guy immediately stumble into you, but she quickly pushed him away, before his hands could begin to wander.

“I don't like my options, so far.”

“Come, I'll introduce you to some people.”

Your best friend was a wonderful person, no doubt in that. She was always looking out for you and only wanted what's best for you, even if you argued against that right now. She knew that you had been quite lonely these past weeks, with her finally finding a great guy and not having that much time for you anymore.

You were happy for her, really, but she was the only friend you could count on. The only one that mattered. But you weren't upset with her. You were happy and glad that she finally found someone that treated her well. Not that you had actually met the guy, yet.

That would finally be happening tonight.

She introduced you to some former college friends at first, all very nice people, even if you could barely understand them with the slur in their voices.

“So.. you're (Y/N), the most beeeeeautiful woman on this earth?” a guy asked and wrapped his arm around your shoulder.

“Is that what (Y/B/F) has been telling you about me?” you laughed, but tried to shove the guy away. He smelled like bear and sweat and that was not a combination that you were in the mood for.

“Yeah, she's like always talking about you. It's like so annoying,” another girl rolled her eyes, but had a playful tone in her voice. Including to the strong valley girl accent.

“Don't flatter her so much,” (Y/B/F) could see your discomfort and quickly pulled you towards her and away from the guy, “Enjoy the rest of the party guys! It was good seeing you again”

And with that, she dragged you towards the garden.

“Thanks for that. He smelled horrible.”

“Yeah, he did. I could smell it even from where I was standing.”

You both started chuckling, stopping on the terrace of the house, her eyes wandering over the heads of the people partying in the backyard.

“(Y/B/F)!” your heads both turned into the direction of the voice, finding a young guy waving at the two of you with a big smile on his face.

“Ah! There he is,” she whispered, pulling you with her to meet the guy she was so infatuated with.

He immediately wrapped his arms around her and kissed her happily, making you – as always – the third wheel and standing next to them with an awkward smile on your face, while you watched them make out.

Only when you cleared your voice, did they finally break apart.

“Ah, yeah, I thought I was forgetting something. (Y/N), this is my boyfriend. This is Jimin,” she looked so happy. God, you had thought this would only be another one of those 'boyfriends' that she would ditch after two weeks, but you had never seen her like this.

And he in return, looked at her like she was his world. It was.. heartwarming, even if a bit cringey.

You extended your hand and he gladly shook it.

“It's so good to finally meet you, (Y/N). (Y/B/F) has told me so much about you.”

“Yeah, she seems to do that a lot,” you smirked, “But likewise. I'm glad I'm finally meeting the face behind the name.”

“Have you been waiting long?” you sat down on a garden chair, while they shared the bench in front of you, with him immediately draping his arm around her shoulder.

“No, not for too long.”

“Good. Still, sorry that it took us so long. Somebody had to be convinced to come,” she threw you a pointed look, but you only shrugged, looking down at your phone when the two in front of you began making out again.

You began cringing when you saw how they were shoving their tongues into each others mouths and were about to get up and - possibly - throw up, when a voice from the side caught your attention.

“Aish, get a room,” Jimin instantly stopped and looked at the man as well, taking the drink he was holding out for him.

“What he said,” you smiled happily and nodded, agreeing wholeheartedly.

Only then did the guy even realize you were here.

It was like in those movies, when the guy turned around and everything was suddenly in slow motion. Rose petals were flying everywhere and romantic music began playing in the background.

If it hadn't been for that drunk guy falling down in front of you and yelling something like: “NICKELBACK IS THE BEST BAND IN THE FUCKING WORLD YOU PISSHEADS!” before running off again.

Talk about a ruined moment.

Nevertheless, he returned your smile and extended his hand.

“Hi. I'm Taehyung.”

“(Y/N).”

He sat down on the chair next to you and was about to say something to Jimin, only to find him being in 'deep' conversation with (Y/B/F). Which actually just meant that he was probably whispering something into her ear, that would haunt you for days to come.

“It's nice being the third wheel, isn't it?” you chuckled.

“Yeah,” he leaned back, turning his head back at you, “Why did you come here?”

“Had no choice. I wanted to go to Panda Express, but she wouldn't let me.”

“What really? You like Panda Express?”

“Are you kidding? I practically live there at this point.”

Taehyung’s grin widened with every passing moment and your eyes dropped to his lips with a smile. God, that guy was way too handsome for this party. What was he doing here?

And without needing another word from you, Taehyung got up and looked at his friend, “Jimin, I'm getting food with (Y/N). Bye,” he grabbed your hand and pulled you up, but as quick as he was, Jimin was faster and caught him just before he could run away.

“No! We made a deal with you. One night at a party,” was all you could hear from the hushed conversation.

You furrowed your eyebrows and looked at your best friend, but she only shrugged, not knowing what was going on either.

Nevertheless, she got up from her seat and put her hand on his shoulder.

“Hey.. let them leave. You and I are going to get out of here soon anyways and then they'd be stuck here without knowing anyone. At least let them get food while you and I fuck all night long.”

“Ew,” you said, once again, cringing.

For some reason, this was all incredibly odd. Why would Taehyung need permission from anyone to go to something as simple as Panda Express? He was old enough to make his own choices, wasn't he? And what was Jimin so scared off? That you would murder him, or something? 

He clenched his jaw, looking at (Y/B/F) first, before he scanned you carefully and then looked back at Taehyung.

“Promise me I won't regret this.”

“You won't regret this,” he grinned happily and grabbed your hand again, pulling you after him and leaving a happy (Y/B/F) behind.

What was that thing about you finding your soulmate tonight again?

(Y/B/F) mentally clapped herself on the shoulder, that was for sure.

                                                        * * * * *

The closest Panda Express to the party was only a ten minutes walk, but it wasn't one you were familiar with. It was much smaller than the one close to your apartment, but it was still cozy and clean. And the food was as delicious as always.

Taehyung was a funny and nice guy, from what you had found out about him. Which wasn't much. It was like he was somehow evading all of your personal questions regarding his life.

“What's your deal, Taehyung?”

“What do you mean?” he shoved an egg roll into his mouth and munched happily on it.

“Well, let's start with the fact that you had to get permission from Jimin to go and eat. Are you younger than you look? Are you like 17, or something?”

He laughed and shook his head, “No, no. Don't worry, I'm old enough to go out after it's dark.”

“Then why do you have to ask for permission?”

“Let's just say I'm someone that people seem to think is important.”

“Are you like the son of a president or something? Oh wait, no! I got it! You're the son of a mafia boss, am I right?”

His laughing never stopped, it just got louder each time, “Yes, (Y/N). My father runs the black market, you're absolutely correct.”

Even though the sarcasm was clear, you acted like you had answered the question correctly and patted yourself on the shoulder.

“And what about you? Who are you?”

“Oh, right, yeah, uh.. let's see. How about.. a princess?”

“A princess?” his smile faded a little, but you didn't notice, while you were stealing an egg roll of his plate.

“Yes! I mean, don't let my clothes fool you into thinking otherwise. I might be wearing clothes from Target, but underneath, I'm wearing Gucci.”

It's been ages since he could talk to somebody so freely and just.. be a young boy in his twenties. Actually, scratch that. This was the first time he was able to hang out with someone like you and just look at you and think:

“You’re amazing,” maybe he had said that out loud, but he had no shame, because it was absolutely true.

“Aw, thank you,” you acted all cute and cocked your head to the side, “You’re pretty hot too..- no wait! I meant dope! I was going to say dope!” you tripped over your words, but he just raised his eyebrows and leaned back.

“Thank you. You’re hot as well,” you blushed a little and hid yourself behind your hands. Leave it up to you to make it awkward, you thought.

“Can we stop talking about this, before they’re going to put me on the menu for looking like a tomato?”

He gently grabbed your hands and pulled them away from your face, looking at you for a couple of seconds, before focusing on the food again. 

“As you wish.”

The two of you spent the next two hours laughing and getting to know each other. While you told him everything there was to know about you, he rarely revealed anything about him and if he did, it only confused you more. Answers like: “I don't think my parents would like that,” or: “Responsibility can be the hardest burden,” would always make you think that there was so much more to him that you really didn't understand. But you quickly realized that no matter how many questions you asked, he wouldn't budge.

You could have stayed here for many more hours, but closing time was just around the corner and you could see how the owners were pretty much begging you to leave from the other side of the restaurant, since you two were the only ones left.

So you both made your way out into the darkness of the night and awkwardly stood in front of each other, like it was in those movies where one wanted to kiss the other, but didn’t know if it was alright.

“You know.. this was only supposed to be a short trip for me. Like a.. how can I put this so it makes sense.. final vacation.”

“Are you dying?!” your eyes immediately widened.

“Not in that sense,” when he saw how you narrowed your eyes, he let out a sigh and his shoulders slumped, “Listen, (Y/N). All I'm trying to say is.. I didn't come here thinking I would meet someone like you, especially not in a time where I should not be thinking about.. anything else than.. certain matters. My life is going to change a lot soon, but even if it was just a couple of hours, I'm not going to forget how you made me feel normal for a little while. And what it would be like to go on a date with a pretty girl.”

“First of all: I didn't understand half of what you were saying and you're still weird, even though I like you quite a lot,” he chuckled at that and nodded, agreeing with you there, “Second: A date? Is that what it was?”

“Even if it was, it wouldn't make much difference, I'm afraid. I'll have to leave tomorrow and I don't think you and I are ever going to see each other again. Even though I would love to take you out to that amusement park you told me about.”

This all sounded so terribly dramatic. And the way he was looking at you, so completely.. devastated, even though he had just met you. Like he was losing a piece of him that he was trying to hold on so desperately.

“Taehyung.. can you please tell me who you are? If we're never going to see each other again then why would it matter if you were honest with me?”

“I don't want you to see me as anyone other than the normal and funny Kim Taehyung. I just.. I just want to be Taehyung. Even if it's just for one person in this world. I just want to be Taehyung,” he repeated.

“Hey.. you're not just Taehyung. You're the cool and funny Taehyung. Oh, and the hot Taehyung, obviously.”

He smiled happily and took a quick look around. When he saw that you were completely alone, he pulled you into his arms, burying his nose into your hair and breathing in the scent of your shampoo.

“Thank you, (Y/N). For making this the best night of my life.”

“The best night of your life?” you leaned back a little bit so that he could look at you, “Hm.. if that’s so, then it should end properly, don’t you think?”

He furrowed his eyebrows, but relaxed as soon as he could feel your lips against his. 

He should push you away, should tell you that this was more than inappropriate, especially because of who he was, but instead, he just cupped your face and tilted his head to the side, so that he could deepen the kiss.

You just wrapped your arms around him as well and gently stroked his back, completely oblivious to the fact that there were three paparazzi hiding behind the bushes and taking a shit ton of pictures of the two of you.

“This is great. The prince fell in love with a normal girl, even though he's about to marry princess Dae in four weeks. If this isn't going to ruin their family's reputation, I don't know what is.”

[im-basically-logan]

Happy Density Day!

haha get it cuz the formula for density looks like a heart. I still dont know how to title things. Analogical V-Day fic anybody? (quick note- sorry if the pacing is sorta weird??? idk how story writing works. personally my favorite part is the last few paragraphs lmao)

Summary: Logan wants to give Virgil a poem for Valentine’s Day, but wants to make it as perfect as possible. Either way, Virgil loves it. Words: 2,796 Ship: Analogical, Royality (tho, it’s only briefly mentioned and analogical is the focus) TW: Kissing, sleeping at bad hours, uh... Patton tackles Roman playfully at one point Please send me an ask/message if I need to add a trigger. Genre: Fluff!!

@riverbendover @nokatai-realm @crowsketches @living-on-the-virge

It was about 3 days before Valentine’s Day and as much as Logan would usually show nonchalance or distaste towards the holiday, he’s been Virgil’s boyfriend for 8 months now. He wasn’t going to brush off their first Valentine’s Day. He was going to make the perfect card for his Virgil even if it meant he didn’t get any sleep that week. Well, that was an exaggeration and Virgil would probably ask as to why Logan’s sleep schedule had suddenly done a 180. But nonetheless, Logan was going to make a nice little card.

Logan started out with printer paper as a planning stage, wondering what to actually put in the card. He went through scribbled out drawings, minimalistic pictures, telling Virgil how beautiful he was, and finally settled on writing a poem. He was good at those. Usually.

His trash can in his room began filling with balled up clumps of paper which were drafts that he deemed not good enough.

“Clothes are dark as space,  but eyes as bright as the stars. I hope-- No.” Logan mumbled the poem out loud to himself, then crumpled up the paper, threw it to the side, and started anew. The side of his hand was turning gray from being left-handed and the graphite of the pencil he was using. “I cannot describe to you how much I love you. It was a revelation when I had discovered my feelings for you. Like when Newton discovered gravity. It was fundamental to understanding life as you are fundamental to me understanding emotions…” He tapped the pencil against his head quickly, trying to think. It sounded… Like something. It wasn’t too bad, but he decided to trash and rewrite it again. It was probably just fine, but Logan was a perfectionist.

He began writing a bit more before deciding to create the decorations on the light purple construction paper he found for the actual card. He had the equation 128√e980 written along over the spine while the card was flattened. The equation was supposed to be read while the card was closed and turned a certain way, and it would read “I love you” from being folded in half. He found the little trick while looking up ways to say I love you to a partner. In pen he neatly wrote inside the cover of the card the beginning to his poem to Virgil. The beginning was the only thing he was happy with at the moment, but he would add more later. He checked his watch and read 11:30 pm. He sighed, put his materials away and went to bed. Although made sure to put the card neatly into the drawer of his desk. It was only 2 days before Valentine’s Day and he barely had anything! He wanted to keep working on it, but also sleeping was important and he and the others were working on getting a full night’s rest. Besides, Virgil would badger him in the morning about it and he couldn’t have his boyfriend find his surprise.

Logan went through the next day rather smoothly: Nice comebacks to Roman, reminding Thomas of important events, and of course a few nice kisses with Virgil in the middle of it all. Patton always grinned if he caught them and Roman always teased them until Logan mentioned it was almost Valentine’s Day.

“We are allowed to have physical affection, especially around this time of year, correct?” Logan asked Roman, raising a brow with a pouting expression.

“Well I suppose so, but… You two are such nerds!” Roman responded weakly, unable to come up with a witty reply. Patton butted in, putting his arm around Roman’s shoulders.

“Now, don’t be mean, Roman. It’s your time of the year, isn’t it? Valentine’s Day! A day of Roman-ce.” Patton laughed and Virgil, who was leaning slightly against Logan, snickered. Logan sighed with a very small hint of a smile while Roman rolled his eyes with a laugh. He exited with Patton, most likely about to go on an adventure or brainstorm. Logan, although, had a pit in his stomach as he was constantly reminded Valentine’s Day was just around the corner.

Such terrible planning on my end… He thought, biting the inside of his mouth before kissing Virgil on the head as they went to do their own separate things for now. He sank out and went to his room, relieved to find it just as it was when he left it. He hadn’t taken out his trash yet, but he assumed Virgil wouldn’t go digging through it at least and see the drafts. Checking his watch, which read 8:30 pm, Logan pulled out the drawer and took out the card. He drew a little density equation on the back, coloring in the little heart that the symbols for mass over volume created. He then opened the card back up, rereading the beginning of the poem he kept from a draft.

“I don’t believe I’ll be able to explain my love towards you. Like how it is a mystery as to the true way the universe was created despite the many theories. How the chances of us existing together may have been smaller than a quark, But we managed to exist and come together.” Logan sat down at his desk and began writing a bit more, once again mumbling the words to himself as he wrote. “Your mind can be as far away as a galaxy,

but I’d travel the light years.

You’re a fundamental element in my life, Like gravity to planets and stars.” He bit the bottom of his lip, unable to think of anything else to add. “I can’t even write a simple poem…” He murmured to himself, dropping his pencil. He kept his head up with his left hand, trying to think. There wasn’t any specific pattern or rhyme to the poem. It was purely just him rambling about how great Virgil is in metaphors about space and science. Would Virgil even enjoy that? He created a small, curvy border with a blue pen on the inside of the card, but cringed as he looked back to the unfinished poem. Then he put another line. “I am and always will be unable to express how much I care for you.” It was true, but the poem felt too short and he barely had an idea on how to end it. He wrote on the other half of the inside of the card “Happy Valentine’s Day, Virgil. Love, Logan”, drew a simplistic galaxy on the front, and went back to his previous position of laying his head atop his hand. Instead of coming up with any ideas, Logan somehow fell asleep on his hand. He took his nap for about 4 hours, waking up at the superb hour of around 1 am and his head ended up on the desk with his hand still upright. Great. Only 1 day until Valentine’s Day and he was barely done with his card. He dug his hands into his hair in frustration. It should have been easy to write a poem. But no it was going to be difficult and now he was tired as hell. He decided to create the blue borders on the outside of the card while waiting for the others to get up. After finishing the border, which did look rather nice, he put it back in the desk drawer and went to sleep in his bed this time. Although he didn’t fall asleep immediately. Of course not. He was thinking about what Virgil would think if he barely had anything to give. The poem was pretty choppy… he should rewrite it again. What if Virgil didn’t even want a card? Would chocolates have been better?

Luckily, Logan didn’t stay up late enough to question anymore as he crashed into sleep while thinking about Virgil. Said side must have felt Logan still being awake because he made his way into Logan’s room having woke up early himself. It was dark so he couldn’t see the trash can of the Valentine’s drafts but he could feel his way over to Logan’s bed and curled into his chest almost like a human-sized cat. Before going back to sleep, he kissed Logan’s cheek and put his head half on some pillow and half on the mattress with his head lying against the top of Logan’s chest. He didn’t mind sleeping like this, in fact if he was resting next to Logan on just a mattress he’d be content like that as well.

In the morning, the actual morning of about 7:45 am, Logan found a Virgil sleeping next to him. He sighed dreamily, then remembered that he still hadn’t thrown out his god damn drafts yet. Logan tried to move as subtly and quietly as possible to not wake Virgil. He eventually got out of  bed and moved the plastic bin under his desk quickly as he heard Virgil shuffling on the bed. Then he went back over his bed, kissing Virgil’s forehead.

“Virge? C’mon, it’s almost 8 o’ clock,” Logan said, looking at his watch. Virgil was awake, but he kept his eyes closed as he replied,”I don’t wanna.”

“Patton’s making french toast.” “5 more minutes.”

“We both know that means 5 more hours, metaphorically and even literally at times.”

“Shush, nerd.” Virgil eventually opened his eyes and got up, his hair messy and partially standing. Logan smirked at the other’s appearance, holding out his hand for Virgil to take. So Virgil takes it gladly and they move on with the rest of their day.

Logan had barely any opportunities to work on his card but while there was a short lull he managed to write a few more lines. “You’re nothing short of breath taking. A star should be named after you. No, a galaxy.”

He stopped as he felt a presence in his room. It was Patton. Oh thank god. They both headed off to the commons to discuss with the other two about the big day tomorrow.

“What are you two doing?” Roman asked Virgil and Logan. They both shrugged, but Logan of course, had a small gift to finish.

“Why are you asking?” Virgil replied. “What are you doing, Princey?” Roman was about to respond when he was suddenly tackled by Patton on the couch, letting out a boisterous laugh.

“Well of course, romantic things! Anyways, I thought you’d both at least say something like spending time with each other.” He continued as Patton got off and sat next to him, a wide grin on his face.

“Well that’s a given, isn’t it?” That was Logan, who quirked a brow.

Virgil shrugged. “Sure. We can just chill out here since Romano and Patton are probably going to the fantasy realm or whatever.”

Logan nodded as Roman scoffed at the seemingly mundane idea. He said it was such a boring thing to do on Valentine’s Day, but Virgil didn’t mind.

They all went off to do their jobs and then night time came around again.

Logan was rushing through his notes after playing a game of 52 pickup with his slang vocab cards which he foolishly dropped while hurrying back to his room. He closed his binder with satisfaction after looking at the schedule, putting it away in a separate drawer from the card, which he took back out of its hiding place. He was clueless as to what to add. It had barely any stanzas. Logan tapped his pencil against the table, making a fast paced clicking noise.

“Ughhh!” The logical facet sighed, his mind totally blank. “I should have gotten more hours of sleep.” He looked at his watch: 10:40 pm. He could still finish it by tomorrow. Logan, although, was holding his head up with his forearms, consciousness blinking on and off. He decided, if anything, to add just one more line he could think of. Everything else was decorated and he could finish it after taking a quick nap. He wrote it down slowly due to fatigue, but still tried his best to make it look neat.

“I love--”

Then somehow passed out while writing with a pen. Though, Thomas used to do that at times so was it really that surprising? He was out cold for a while and even slept past 8 am.

“Logan?” Virgil called, noticing Logan’s absence in the morning from the commons. Then Virgil finally found his boyfriend’s head resting on his desk with a nicely decorated card next to his right arm. He noticed the still full trash can of paper and then picked up the card. He didn’t read the inside yet, wanting to see the other things first. He noticed the equation “I love you” message first and chuckled at such a nerdy detail. Then he found the density formula on the back and smirked. How had he been so blessed as to have had such a caring nerd in his life?

Virgil finally opened the card to see the partially unfinished poem on the left flap and a nicely written closing on the right. He saw his name, so this must’ve been for him.

“I guess he didn’t finish…” Virgil concluded out loud to himself, but he really wanted to read the poem. Logan had written him previous poems and he absolutely loved them. So he read it aloud, mumbling the words under his breath.

“I don’t believe I’ll be able to explain my love towards you. Like how it is a mystery as to the true way the universe was created despite the many theories. How the chances of us existing together may have been smaller than a quark, But we managed to exist and come together. Your mind can be as far away as a galaxy,

but I’d travel the light years. You’re a fundamental element in my life, Like gravity to planets and stars. I am and always will be unable to express how much I care for you. You’re nothing short of breathtaking. A star should be named after you. No a nebula. I love…”

Logan had woken up as Virgil was reading the second to last stanza, although wasn’t completely aware of his surroundings yet.

“Morning, dear,” Logan greeted with a yawn, adjusting his glasses and hair as much as he could. He was calm and tired until he saw what Virgil had in his hand and then he was fully awake in an instant.

“I… did you read that?” Virgil nodded slowly, hoping the logical facet wasn’t upset. They sat in silence for a few moments before Virgil, surprisingly, broke the silence.

“Um… I really liked it, actually. Really.” He gave a genuine smile, moving to plant a kiss on Logan’s messy hair.

“Really?” “Yes, I did.” “It’s not even finished or--” Logan almost tripped over his own feet trying to sit up from the chair. It was way too early for this. (It was almost 1 pm).

Virgil laughed as Logan struggled to stand up and move, eventually falling onto his bed face first before slowly turning himself around and sitting up. Virgil made his way over to the bed too with much less stumbling, sitting down next to Logan.

“I assume this-” Virgil pointed at the word “love” at the end of the poem. “-is supposed to say ‘I love you’, right?”

Logan looked at Virgil deliriously for a few seconds before practically diving forward and kissing him. Virgil almost let go of the card, but held on and melted into the kiss, smiling as he did so. Then they both fell backwards onto the bed in suppressed giggles.

“I’ve never seen you this giddy,” Virgil commented teasingly.

Logan pointed an index finger straight up as in an objection. “In my defense, I’m very tired.” They both broke into laughter again. After a few minutes of Logan waking up, he had Virgil give him the card to finish writing out “you” and then gave it back.

“I love it, Logan.” He looked at the now fully visible trash can of drafts. “Man… I wish I made something.”

“It’s okay Virgil, you yourself are enough,” Logan replied, pecking Virgil on the forehead who look assured enough for now.

They eventually made their way downstairs, Virgil still latching onto the card, and had their first Valentine’s Day. It consisted of Virgil constantly complimenting Logan’s card and poem, making him blush, and Logan constantly saying how amazing Virgil is, making him blush as well. They cuddled on the couch and watched a few documentaries about space and other oddities.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, dear.” Logan presses a kiss to Virgil’s lips for the millionth time today.

Virgil smiles into it and responds,”Happy Valentine’s Day, nerd.”

[tomato-tomahto-potato-potahto]

What do you do to relax? Veg out in front of the television or laptop - or read, usually. What's the nicest thing anyone has ever done for you? Complimented me. If you were to start a band right now, what would it be called? Taco Tuesdays. Do you watch Ghost Adventures? I’ve never heard of that show before - I’ve heard of Ghost Hunters, though. That show doesn’t interest me, however. Winter, summer, fall or spring? I prefer summer. Name someone who means the world to you. My parents. Were you adopted? No, I'm my parents’ biological child. Have you ever moved to a different state? Can’t say that I have. Do you think it's stupid to trust people you've only met online? Depends how close you are with them, I suppose. Sometimes it’s easier to make friends with people who aren’t from “real life”. Do you like the smell of pine trees? Yes, unless it’s super over-powering. Do you like spinny chairs? A little bit too much, if you ask me. When was the last time you were stressed out? I can’t think of the last time, so it must’ve been awhile ago. What is your opinion on people who wait until marriage for sex? You do you. It’s nobody else’s business. What time did you wake up today? 6:00 AM. What could society go without? Murderers, rapists, wars, homelessness, hunger, etc. What have you done in the last year that makes you proud? Survived it, I suppose. How would you describe yourself in one sentence? I am just one hot mess of a human being, is all. What/who inspires you? Not a whole heck of a lot. Does history interest you? Yes, it was one of my better subjects throughout school. What makes you cringe? Groups of teenagers voices screeching about boys. Are you into poetry? I like poetry if it has a rhyme to it - I don’t like having to figure out the “meaning” behind a poem stanza, though. Do you like spicy foods? Not overly spicy - that would not go well in my digestive system. Do you watch MTV anymore? I remember watching “Awkward” on there when I was younger. Have you ever been arrested? I’ve never been arrested before. What is your biggest "what if?" What if I tell Katie that I like her and it just blows up in my face and then I’ve gone ahead and ruined 35 years of friendship with her and shit gets awkward? Can you remember your last dream? No, so it must not have been vivid enough. Where are 3 places you would like to go on vacation? All over Europe and Australia. Do you like chocolate? Certain kinds, sure. I don’t like white chocolate at all, though. What is the hardest thing you've ever had to do? Say goodbye to family members who were passing away. Do you like to shop? Depends on who or what I’m shopping for. Most of the time, it’s not something I enjoy doing. Wouldn't it be sweet to go to the moon? I’m not sure how I feel about the whole zero gravity thing, though... Are you interested in astrology? Not so much. I read about my zodiac sign for fun once in awhile, but that’s it. How's the weather right now? It’s supposed to rain later today. About how many pairs of jeans do you own? 20? Probably. Are you a cuddler? Who do I get to cuddle? Do you procrastinate a lot? Probably more often than I should. Are you a risk-taker? I am definitely not a risk-taker. Can you dance? Do you like dancing? No, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t enjoy it. What song always makes you happy when you hear it? Happy - Pharrell Williams. Who is the funniest person you know? My dad has a pretty neat sense of humor. What do you think about Lady Gaga? I like a lot of her songs, they’re awesome. Is it possible to be allergic to water? Yes, and also sunlight. What is your all time favorite comedy movie? I mean, there’s obviously more than just one... Where do you like to go to have fun? There’s a lot of different things to do around here if I really wanted to. Where do you go to get away from everything? Ideally, I’d like to just go to a cabin in the woods. What are you currently listening to? The sound of myself typing. Do you have posters up on your walls? I do not. I haven’t since high school. How was your day? :) It’s been alright, but it’s also just beginning. What is your biggest pet peeve? When people chew with their mouth open. Do you ever go window shopping? I window-shop a lot more than I actually shop. Without looking, guess what time it is. 7:00 AM. Were you close? 7:08 AM. How many blue shirts do you own? Plenty of them. I’ve never really counted before. Do you answer restricted/private callers? I don’t answer anyone unless I recognize the number. Have you ever ridden on a motorcycle? I’ve never ridden on one before, but I also don’t want to.

[penniesforthestorm]

On Jane, Part 4

The Conclusion

I want to start this one off with a little illustration of who I was the first time I read Jane Eyre. I was fourteen, and the book had been a birthday present, part of a set from Barnes and Noble that included Emma, A Tale of Two Cities, and Tales of Mystery and Imagination. I was a proudly eccentric girl, with braces and awkward bangs that I trimmed myself with kiddie scissors, who wrote bizarre novellas about Russian ballet dancers and tragic poets who bore a suspicious resemblance to Gerard Manley Hopkins. True, I came from a loving, nourishing home, and had plenty of friends, but I was never quite able to escape the feeling of being an outsider, and I was terrified that I was somehow un-lovable-- that I would never find someone tuned to my frequency. In other words, I was a big ol’ nerd, and exactly in the right stage in life for reading this book. (At sixteen, I read D.H. Lawrence’s Sons and Lovers, and when a young man tells a young woman: “You don’t want to love; your eternal and inexorable craving is to be loved”, I cringed in recognition. It’s always startling when books read you.)

Now, let’s return to Jane. At the moment, she is utterly alone. Her hopes of marriage have been dashed, her former refuge poisoned. She has no possessions, no money, and nowhere to go. But she goes, because she cannot stay, and eventually finds shelter at the home of the Rivers family: Diana, Mary, and St. John (rhymes with “engine”), a Protestant minister. While Jane recovers her strength, the sisters take her warmly under their wing, teaching her German and proving a match for her aesthetic and intellectual interests. Once she is well, she becomes the sole teacher at a school for girls in the village, recommended by St. John himself. She has a house of her own, and challenging, but fulfilling work. Her heart still aches for Rochester, but she sincerely tries to leave all that behind her. She becomes absorbed in the drama of St. John’s relationship with the lovely Rosamond Oliver-- he clearly loves her, but rejects her at every turn for initially opaque reasons.

And then Jane receives news that her half-forgotten uncle John, the Madeira wine merchant, has died and left her twenty thousand pounds. Not only that, but she and the Rivers siblings are cousins-- their mother was sister to the two quarreling Eyre brothers (John, and Jane’s father). Jane being who she is, she immediately divides the money between herself and her new family members, but she’s still a very rich gal. So everything’s coming up Jane!

And then St. John Rivers goes poking his haughty nose around and almost ruining everything. It’s been established that he wants to go and be a missionary in India, and he starts teaching Jane Hindi, and eventually asks her to go with him, as his wife. This, it turns out, is more or less all he thinks of her: Good Wife Material. He has essentially zero regard for “ordinary corrupt human love” (I knew I could work Graham Greene into this somehow!); Rosamond Oliver didn’t live up to his standards, but Jane-- plain, quiet, moral Jane-- she will suit his purposes exactly.

But he has no idea who he’s dealing with. Jane would be perfectly happy going to India, she informs him, but not as his wife. We, of course, know that she cannot stand the idea of chaining herself to someone who cannot love her. So she says: “God did not give me my life to throw away; and to do as you wish me would, I begin to think, be almost equivalent to committing suicide.” This is what I mean when I talk about Jane’s spirit. St. John reacts to this very nastily at first (because he’s petty and self-righteous, always a great combo), but gradually the two of them reach an agreement-- he gives her two weeks to think things over.

Turns out there are more spirits at play than we reckoned with, though. At some point in late adolescence, I was given a book called Was Heathcliff a Murderer? which purported to examine some of the greatest ‘mysteries’ in Victorian literature. (It devotes a chapter to the ‘question’ of whether or not Tess, in Tess of the D’Urbervilles, was ‘actually’ raped, which is frankly offensive, and also... made pretty explicit in the text? Hardy doesn’t go into, like, the physical details, but his allusion to pillage and plunder is... not accidental? Then again, I’m not an Oxford professor writing in the late 1980′s, so what do i know...) Among its subjects is the next scene of Jane Eyre: Jane, sitting alone at night, hears Rochester calling her name. Was it a dream? A form of hypnosis? A very oblique reference to the brand-new technology of the telegraph (yes, that is one of the theories)?

The thing is, I don’t need an answer. I just don’t care. I care that Jane, who is now subject to no one, who has proven that she can succeed on her own in the world, goes running back to the man she loves, because his soul cried out and hers answered. She could have ignored it, and happily stayed on with Mary and Diana and run her village-school. But she doesn’t. She goes back, to find Thornfield burned to the ground, Bertha (Mason) Rochester dead, and Edward blind and minus a hand. And Reader, she marries him, because they understand each other, and always did, right from the beginning.

I’ve really enjoyed writing these; I hope you’ve enjoyed reading them. Maybe re-read the book as well? It’s certainly been rewarding for me. Also, the 2006 version is on Hulu, but I’m quite fond of the 2011 feature directed by Cary Fukunaga, with Mia Wasikowska and Michael Fassbender as well-- the photography is particularly striking. The Zeffirelli version with Charlotte Gainsbourg and William Hurt is OK, notable for the beginning, which features a very young Anna Paquin. I have it in my head that I’ve seen the Orson Welles/Joan Fontaine rendition, or parts of it, but I don’t have a clear impression of it. As always, comments and questions are welcomed and encouraged! Here are the links to the other segments: Part 1: http://penniesforthestorm.tumblr.com/post/176721452934 Part 2: http://penniesforthestorm.tumblr.com/post/176757746084 Part 3: http://penniesforthestorm.tumblr.com/post/176790893894

[6onmyshoulder]

wroteuplikethis*

Having watched countless concert compilations on youtube, and having been to The Weeknd’s concert when he touched down in Singapore, I think it’s safe to say that when it comes to hip hop, there is a slight(and I use this carefully) disconnect in the hip hop concert culture, as compared to the crowd’s energy and hype in the US/UK/Canada/Holland etc. The recent A$AP Rocky performance at Marquee seemed to be a testament to that, as the crowd only seemed to know two songs Rocky performed, one of which wasn’t even his own song to begin with...goddamn ‘Plain Jane’.

Some of the performances that have stood out in those compilations have been Playboi Carti’s performances, whenever and wherever.

(Now, I just want to add a disclaimer that I’m not dissing Singapore’s concert crowds. And that I would love to have had the opportunity to fly over and catch my favourite artists live. But my bank account doesn’t let me, which pretty much sucks...)

Carti’s performances seem like the place where you’d...die...lit h a h a. He’s barely singing along to his own song, and seems to spend a large majority of his stage presence hyping the crowd up and screaming 10 of his 1026 ad-libs at any given point. The crowd vibes along, going completely ape-shit.

It’s raw. It’s animalistic. It’s loud. It’s in your face. It’s wild. The fact that Carti fans sing along to his snippets at concerts is amazing to me. A 30 second snippet completely changes the mood of the crowd, sending them into a frenzy, as evidenced by the countless concert recordings of Carti performing ‘Cancun’.

It’s in this raw energetic sphere that Carti absolutely thrives in. And that’s exactly where Carti’ sophomore release, ‘Die Lit’, exists.

‘Die Lit’ has also become kind of a comfort album. I was on a bus at night a while ago, and as usual, I felt this overwhelming urge to listen to ‘So Far Gone’ or ‘Take Care’(2 Drake albums notorious for putting one in their feels). As my thumb hovered over the ‘Drake’ artist arrow, something shifted and I found myself playing ‘Die Lit’. Granted, I was initially feeling kinda sad(what’s new), but ‘Die Lit’ weirdly put me at ease with my emotions. I didn’t think, I didn’t reflect and I didn’t feel, as I’d usually do with those two Drake albums(or other sadboi albums). ‘Die Lit’ allowed me to sink into the beats and Carti’s repetitive hooks that were catchy and easy to listen to.

The album art features a black and white photo of Carti jumping into a mosh pit while flipping people off and it serves as a perfect metaphor for what the album is about. The picture looks brash, unadulterated, insane, chaotic and yet, weirdly poetic, and the album itself, sonically, captures all those.

Die Lit opens with ‘Long Time - Intro’ with Carti talking about how he hasn’t ‘felt like this in a long time,’ while repeatedly ad-libbing in the background(pss, slatt, ooh, pow, pa, yeah). Some really nice synths on the instrumental that sound organic. Carti saying ‘I’d rather get caught with it than without it,’ is the highlight of the track. A fun track that serves as a nice opener to an enjoyable album.

I don’t know how many of you have watched ‘The Matrix: Reloaded’(reloaded is the second movie and it’s trash, so is revelations. only the first movie is fire and worth the watch.) but there’s this underground rave scene where people absolutely lose their minds and party like there’s no tomorrow(i mean they have to seeing as they’re living in a technologically dystopic world). The second track off ‘Die Lit’, ‘R.I.P.’, sounds like it could have been the perfect song to accompany this particular scene. If organised chaos was a song, it would be R.I.P......stripped back production, a slightly overblown bass that has a weird metallic quality to it and Carti’s flow over such a simple instrumental creates such an intense atmosphere, a chaotic one. At certain points, the song is literally just the bass line, one synth and ad-libs, and it somehow, fits into the whole ‘organised chaos’ idea. ‘I’m on demo lit, I’m on migo lit,’ raps Carti. He fits into the track perfectly, and finds the perfect gaps to spit his ad-libs. Him saying that he ‘bought a crib for momma, off that mumbling shit’ begets a sense of awareness of exactly what he brings to the table lyrically.

‘Lean 4 Real’ feels like a mellower ‘R.I.P.’. Slower but just as stripped back, the instrumental has an animalistic quality to it, probably because of the weird background synth that makes it sound like it was recorded in a forest at midnight. Skepta comes in with a reliable verse, countering Carti’s chaotic nature and giving the listener a sense of uniformity with his verse. Carti hops back on and re-hypnotises the listener by repeating ‘I’m on the beans 4 real, i’m on the lean 4 real.’ Simple in its execution, insanely good in its presentation.

Old Money picks up where Lean 4 Real left off, with Carti repeating ‘old money, new hoes,’ then throwing a bunch of ad-libs around, peppering the song with a few more simple rap lines. The bass kicks in with a vengeance through out the song, and Carti’s effortlessness is just put on display for one to enjoy.

Love Hurts(lmao) comes in with a jarringly metallic synth and a hypnotic bass line that just seems into every nook and cranny of your mind, creating a very dark and slightly hellish soundscape. This track genuinely gave me Stockholm Syndrome, as I found myself listening to this insanely jarring song on repeat. ‘Shawty want a rockstarrrrr okay!’ sings Carti, while Travis Scott comes in with a pretty good verse, encapsulating all that’s good with the entire track. His delivery fits the mood of the track perfectly, and the auto tune blends in gorgeously with the grungy vibe of the track.

Lil Uzi Vert and Carti can’t do anything wrong together and in the wake of wokeuplikethis* and left, right, Shoota becomes another song that strengthens their power couple status. Uzi flows on the track even before the beat drops, and once it does drop, Carti picks up where Uzi leaves it on this bouncy and slightly happier sounding track, with the shimmering synth creating an upbeat vibe.

Right Now and Poke It Out are pretty fun to listen to. Bouncy production, Carti’s effortless flows and Pierre’s and Nicki’s features are decent(Pierre’s is actually pretty good not gna lie...would write more but I really just wna focus on my faves).

I like Home(KOD) enough and it’s mainly cause Carti says ‘bring that money home, daddy waiting for it’ over and over and over again...

Fell In Luv’s production is something else man. Really simple lyrics from Carti(i mean did you really expect anything else?). Pierre’s production throughout the album has been special and Fell In Luv is no exception. The vocal sample is such a minor aspect of the song but adds so much character to the beat, and Bryson Tiller’s lofi feature(sounds like he recorded it on his iPhone) actually adds to the aesthetic of the track.

Foreign and Pull Up are pretty decent tracks. Not really my faves and felt a bit ‘filler-ish’.

Mileage has one of the funniest choruses I’ve heard in a while. ‘Molly cyrus, catching bodies, don’t care if your pussy got some mileage mileage....’ Carti dismantling the idea of slut-shaming in one line that’s who I stan uno. Chief Keef’s deeper voice lends a certain gravitas to what feels like a ‘higher pitched’ track cause of Carti’s voice and the production of the beat.

Flatbed Freestyle gives us a good look at baby voice Carti. The beat’s high synth and repeated bass create a repetitiveness that’s unrivalled by the other beats, and Carti literally starts of with ‘BUH BUH BUH BUH BUH BUH’. The beat and Carti compliment each other insanely well, and the track actually ends up being one of the most fun tracks on the entire album. ‘Beeh!’ is my favourite ad-lib after ‘Buh!’ on here. Baby Voice Carti really shines through on this track. He doesn’t sound annoying and doesn’t sound cringe. The Baby Voice is actually...here to save hip hop....

No Time is such an underrated track. Feels like a trap nursery rhyme instrumental, and the sleepy and shimmery xylophone type synth creates an innocent atmosphere as Carti sings about having ‘no time’. Gunna flows over the instrumental like he was born into it. He’s smooth and charismatic, and is perfectly positioned between two Carti verses, forming the perfect palate cleanser within the same song. Definitely one of the better beats on an album already stacked with excellent beats.

I honestly skip middle of the summer...don’t really fuck with it...

Choppa Won’t Miss is an absolute bop in terms of production, and Carti going ‘pew pew pew pew’ in the back is TO DIE FOR. I also just want to ask if anyone can explain the line ‘suck on my dick like a tick’ to me. Thug is pretty good as usual. Flows in and around the beat mans a fucking GOD among men.

R.I.P. Fredo interpolates the R.I.P. beat and sounds amazing sonically. Top is...decent I guess.

Carti created something timeless and fun by sticking to what he knew. Insane production from Pierre and an insane beat selection helped Carti create one of the better albums of 2018(okay i will not play into the 2018 aoty meme).

An album that I enjoyed vastly in 2018, and am still enjoying in 2019, it has snuck into my all time favourite albums list. Carti worked to his strengths and the reception the album received is testament to that. While Playboi Carti may not be for everyone, and especially not for hip hop purists, the effortlessness and simplicity create amazing soundscapes within and across songs. Carti is definitely an acquired taste, and I’m really glad I got into his music.

*^!

[lovelyjishwa]

anxiety attack ; josh dun imagine

unedited

"Why did you stop the concert? Are you scared to drum? Do you feel as if nobody cares about you and only Tyler? Is it true that you suffer from severe anxiety? How do you feel knowing that Tyler is more favoured than you? " Reporters yell in Josh's direction, shoving microphones and cameras in his face. With tears in his eyes and shaking hands, Josh keeps his head down making his way out of the stadium with Tyler whilst the body guards that surround him, yelling at the press.

"Don't listen to them, keep your head down and we'll be at the hotel in no time." Tyler manages to communicate to Josh over the sea of screaming reporters. Tyler wraps an arm over Josh's shoulders trying to shelter his fragile friend in his time of need.

Josh's head pounds as the large amount of people around him continue to fire questions and confronting statements at him. The frail boy lifts his head and is met with continuous flashes of light and the curious faces of the press. He turns to his left and makes eye contact with Tyler, he still had his concert wardrobe on. Red beanie clinging to his head, gritty black face paint on his neck and hands, skinny jeans and floral kimono. The feeling of guilt and frustration wells up in Josh's stomach, stinging his throat.

The boys made it to their hotel. The bodyguards usher them into the building, but something snaps inside Josh. The yellow haired boy stops dead in his tracks, confusing the bodyguards and Tyler. The press takes this as an advantage and a microphone is forced in Josh's face.

"How do you feel knowing that Tyler is more favoured than you?" The male journalist repeats and everybody goes dead silent, rolling their cameras and turning them onto Josh.

"Just leave him alone-" Tyler hisses at them, but Josh stops him by placing a hand on his friend's chest. Josh turns to the reporter and looks dead straight in the camera with tears streaming down his face, taking the journalists by surprise.

"If you have any decency, you'll leave me and Tyler alone." Frustration and desperation poured from the words Josh says, but the writers continued to pester him.

_________________________

Josh sat himself down on the edge of the hotel bed, hid his face in the palm of his hands and sobbed. His red eyeshadow and eyeliner dribbled down his cheeks, whilst his breathing was out of control.

"Hey Y/N, can you please come over? Right now? It's Josh he had a panic attack not even a quarter through the show. It's never been this bad Y/N, I don't know what to do. Okay- see you soon." Tyler's voice was soft but still audible from his room, Josh can easily detect his friend's panic.

"I-I just- everything got too much. I've been playing all night so I didn't stuff up for the show, but it's stressing me out-" Josh begins to apologise to Tyler for ruining the show, but is then interrupted by a knock on the room's door. Tyler gets up and opens it, revealing a girl with worry plastered on her face. She runs over to Josh's side and kneels in front of him with his head still in his hands.

"Josh? Talk to me," Y/N whispers looking him in the face, desperately searching for something out of him. Josh lifts his head slowly with dread, not wanting his girlfriend to be seeing him like this.

"I'm a fucking mess, Y/N, look at me." He croaks out after a long silence, the gentle brown in his eyes seemed to have disappeared and was replaced by pure anxiety. Josh's hair was flat against his head from the sweat that had formed before the show had even begun. The eyeshadow and eyeliner completely smudged down his face.

Seeing Josh like this tore Y/N apart. She truly loves this man, it really kills her to know that Josh is so worried about pleasing everybody and overworks himself.

"The publicity was insane, shoving cameras and microphones into our faces after we cancelled the show," Tyler tells Y/N about the struggle of getting from and to the hotel. Y/N's blood boils over the thought of the press practically breathing down Josh's neck while he was having a panic attack.

"I mean nothing to this goddamn band! I hit a fucking drum over and over, and for what?" Josh interrupts Y/N and Tyler's conversation. He stands up from his seat on the end of the be and raises his voice.

"I'm not as good as you, I'll never be," Josh looks over to Tyler with frustration in his tone. Josh's heavy emotions spill from his lips and crash onto both Tyler and Y/N, taking them by surprise at his sudden outbreak.

"I can't rap, I can't rhyme, I sure as yell can't play ukulele or keyboard-" Josh exhales and takes a breath, realising he's now yelling at the people he loves so dearly.

"I'm a guy who hits a drum. That's all I'll ever be," his voice lowers and he stares at Tyler and Y/N, both wide-eyed.

Josh rubs his face and walks over to the door, grabbing his skateboard and leaving the room, despite the loud calls of his friend and girlfriend.

"Shit," Y/N exhales as she takes in Josh's words that stung her heart.

"I-I didn't think he felt that way," Tyler spat out ever so slowly in equal shock as Y/N.

Y/N walks over to Tyler who was now standing at the kitchen sink and staring out the window in front of him.

"Do you know what even happened for him to get like that?" She asks standing beside Tyler and wraps a comforting arm around his waist.

"Josh had been practising all night long before the gig. He'd stay at the arena after soundcheck and didn't come back till four AM the next morning," Tyler takes in a shaky breath as he begins to put the pieces together of his friend's strange acts before the show.

"He kept shaking his leg and spinning his drumsticks between his fingers non stop. Shit, Y/N, how did this not process in my goddamn head?" Tyler turns and pulls Y/N into a hug.

"Don't worry, we all make mistakes. Let's just sit down and enjoy some TV and wait for him to come back. I think we all need a little time to settle down," Y/N smiles warmly at her friend as they plop themselves down on the couch, and begin to surf the channels..

"Twenty One Pilots is a major band that has been touring the world for nearly two years for their current album, Blurryface To our surprise, Joshua Dun, drummer of Twenty One Pilots, cancelled the show with only one song into the concert. Reporters followed the two-man-band trying to get some answers. This is what beloved Josh Dun had to say;"

"If you have any decency, you'll leave me and Tyler alone," he camera drags to Josh with tears streaming down his face, making Y/N heart sink and her blood boil.

"I would have thought the public deserved some answers to say the least! Tyler began to swear at the press as they entered the hotel." The reporter laughed as she changed the subject.

Tyler groans and facepalms and Y/N turns off the TV.

"I didn't even swear at them!" Tyler picks up a pillow and pegs it at the TV and storms off to the bathroom.

______________________

The door creaks open as a boy with fluffy yellow hair sneaks in, placing his skateboard against the wall. He walks into the bathroom and begins to wash the red makeup from his eyes, cringing at the mirror when he saw his reflection. Josh walks out and sees a figure sitting on the window sill and staring out into the city.

"What are you doing up?" Josh says as he kicks off his shoes and walks over to Y/N, acting like what happened hours ago didn't occur.

"Waiting for you," she replies emotionless not breaking her stair from the slow sunrise. Pinks, oranges and yellows paint the sky gracefully, the colours blending in with one another.

Josh sighs as his body is swarmed with guilt.

"Tyler made it till 3AM thinking you'd be back by then. But if only he'd waiting 3 more hours, then you could see how broken, guilty, and sleep deprived he looked," Y/N said quietly with little to emotion in her voice finding it hard for Josh to reply.

"I didn't mean what I said, everything just happened and I blew up. I didn't mean to hurt him or you," Josh said walking to his bed and laying down on it. He hears somebody walk towards him, but didn't care to look.

"Who am I kidding. Why am I scolding you when you were in a time of need and I wasn't there to support you," Y/N crawls under the covers beside him, nuzzling her head into his chest.

"I couldn't go on with the show, not in the state of mind that I was in," Josh closed his eyes letting his girlfriend's words sink into his skin and sighed. He rolled onto his side to look at Y/N.

"I get that. I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have-" Josh shuts Y/N up by planting a kiss on her soft lips. Y/N chuckles as they break apart and wrap their arms around one another, their feet tangled in the sheets.

Y/N places her hand under Josh's chin and lifts his head up.

"You are an amazing drummer. Nobody in the world could be a better drummer than you. You are the luckiest man alive because you are surround by fans love you for who you are. They love all of your 'imperfections,' and quirks. They adore you and look up to you."

Josh chuckles and looks deep into his girlfriends serene eyes, and chuckles at her compassionate words.

"I love you," he presses his forehead against hers, their noses brushing against one another's.

"I love you more." Josh closes the gap between himself and Y/N, smiling into the kiss.