#didn't feel like going back to my hometown bc there's nothing to do there

[depoteka]

long weekend starts tomorrow so i'm trying to plan some sightseeing around my own city

[thetriangletattoo]

what is it about showers and solving every problem you had during your teenage years

[jeonglixie]

.

[pricklepicklepie]

It might be hard to ask for faves… so who is the oc you’ve had the longest?

OH EVAN, thank you bless you i love you. Let's open this can of worms together -

(forgive me, this got LONG. I mean LONG. It should be a simple answer but NO)

So, my oldest OCs, I didn't even post yesterday. This is a group of some of my oldest. I'm sure there are older ones, but these are the ones I remember/have images of. Lucis is probably the oldest with Katey being the second. There were piles more with this crew. Pretty much anytime I drew anything that wasn't transformers fanart, I added them to this "world". Which was nothing special, none of these guys ever had solid backstories or even interests or jobs. They were just designs that I returned to. Zoi and Lucis eventually got a little more developed (but not a lot lol) and got pushed into my "second gen" OCs. I don't really draw these guys anymore accept occasionally or when I want to make something new, sometimes I revamp an old OC and insert them into whatever story I'm making. Here are some of their more recent designs. I think these are all I've drawn of them in like, ten years or more lol.

Eventually, I made Zoi an office worker who plays bass in a band with Lucis and another OC, Elliot. SPEAKING OF ELLIOT

Elliot is kind of my oldest OC with a 'story'. SORT OF. First, I had all those loose OCs, not in a story, not doing anything. Then one day I make Elliot and Adrien and I decide they're going to be in this angels and demons type story where Elliot dies and comes back to life and they encounter evil angels, etc etc. Joel was a villain, Lucy was like, 'the girl', lol.

This whole plot didn't stick and I eventually just made Adrien human and now they sort of exist in a nebulous, melancholy, dreamy, sorta real-world setting. Elliot is roommates with Zoi and Lucis and the three of them are in a band. Adrien is a guy who just happens to be at their show. Some of my other OCs are in the background of this world, but I don't really think about them lol.

Here's kind of the transition period between the original, fantasy-type story, and the normal world story.

This was late in high school/college that I started calling Elliot's story Elliot's Sword. And it was going to be like Elliot going into a fantasy world from the real world and becoming a god-like figure. But after college, I made them the normal, real-world story. Here are some drawings from the modern era of Elliot and Adrien

It's hard for me to even find drawings of them bc I don't draw them so much, which is a shame! I really like the way they had become. I want to do a story with them where they meet at a show (or reunite since they went to college together) and Elliot eventually helps Adrien through the loss of his Grandmother who is his family's matriarch. And this brings up a lot of feelings for Elliot about his mother who died when he was a child. And together, they sort of explore this half-waking/half-dreaming world of grief. I had this idea that Elliot is like, a dream hopper and goes into people's dreams. And it's a story I really want to write one day, but ALAS. time will tell.

The Oldest Oc I posted about last night, is Puck! OOOHH BOY DO I LOVE PUCK. BUCKLE IN.

These are some of my first drawings of Puck, along with Richard and some other OCs in her setting. I made Puck for a character design class in college. I think my Junior year. She and Richard were basically Fallout rip-off OCs - they came from a post-apocalyptic world with Puck from the country and Richard from a large settlement. They were kind of 'Prince and the Pauper'. And I had this whole thing where they meet, dislike each other at first, have to work together to rebuild Puck's hometown, grow to love each other, adopt a girl named Tommy and raise her in the town, and eventually, Richard does something to betray Puck's trust when they're in their late 50s and they spend the rest of their lives in this bitter divorce arc. Here are some comic pages I made for various college assignments. This was a story I called The Town of Shilo.

Their story now is a little different than it used to be. Now, the idea is Puck comes to this large, sci-fi-ish city and meets Richard and all these other people and helps them maintain their little community by keeping robotic police off their turf. Puck's mother and sister are the CEOs of this large pharmaceutical-turned-weapons company, (though she has been sort of cut off from them and is their unknowing test subject, so she's not involved in whatever they've been up to). And Richard is the son of some politian and is trying to play double agent and use what he finds out from his nepotism job to inform his friends. There is SO MUCH MORE to it that I need to write down and nail down. But that is the basic idea.

These are all the OCs I think about who aren't DnD related. So I kind of have two worlds (elliot's and puck's) that I revisit from time to time and fuss with. The thing is, I never write anything down and never try to world-build or nail anything down. I just draw them with non-specific ideas in mind lol, which definitely has to change. With DnD ocs, it's just so much easier to make a quick guy who has a flaw and then his story is just figuring out that flaw and you get to do that with your friends and it's EASY. But I have a hard time getting back into my other OCs bc I can never settle on a story for them. But I do have dreams of making comics of them, so who knows, hopefully soon I will actually build out their worlds and be able to be more specific about what they can do/what happens to them. lol. BUT I UH NEVER GET TO TALK ABOUT THEM REALLY SO I SORTA TOOK THIS CHANCE TO SAY EVERYTHING EVER ABOUT THEM. HOPE THAT'S ALRIGHT??

tldr: I have this OC, Lucis, who is probably my oldest Oc who I don't draw anymore LOL

[js-journal]

Day 17

01.04.2024

Well hi again, I didn't write here for quite a while... I've been caught uo with the new semester and I've been soooo busy with uni. I've also been in my typical seasonal depression (I still kinda am but at least the weather it's nice) until a few weeks ago so I really didn't feel like doing nothing.

But the weather it's been really good the past few weeks and I'm taking full advantage of it, I try to go out every chance I get abd I'm overall waaay more productive. I've been able to go to some really nice places 5 in Bucharest lately (finally) abd spent a lit if time with my friends.

As for my mental health I can say it's kinda improving, I get along with most of my family better than before especially with my mom. On the other hand I started talking again with a guy i liked a lot, I actually got out with him when I went back in my hometown one weekend (that was a shocking experience bc my mom was really supportive abt it and i really didn't expect it) and we've been talking a lot until recently. But he's giving me mixed signals again and now I'm back into overthinking everything, I should probably just let go of this whole situation and stop talking to him, but it's soo hard to do that especially since we hang out that weekend, but then again he talks to me e few days and then goes back to ghost me another few. I really don't know what to do bc I'm already catching feelings again, and there's just a part of me that really wishes that this time it would work...

Also, I want to end this on a hapoy note, so I found out that city morgue are coming to romania this summer and I've got tickets to see them, and when I tell you that I'm excite, I REALLY AM. Iam truly sooooo happy that I'm going to one of my dream concerts I literally can't wait. Also this month I'm gonna go to a comic con and I'm pretty excited for that to. AND my aunt and cousins are coming to romania this month as well abd and I can't waaaaait.

[buddyapologist]

its 6:30 am and i have the spn au on the brain. i feel like my akira au has more substance to it but i tried writing that and man it was like pulling teeth yk? i really like the concept but that just wasn't going to happen lmao. do love the imagery of buddy with tetsuo powers and everyone riding those sick ass bikes tho!!! anyway spn au rambles below

i rly rly rly want to keep Buddy And Dustin's Grand Adventures located around olathe bc i want their not-so-secret main motivation to be to figure out why brad mutated, so yeah there's been instances of mutants all across the country but their dad never left his hometown and that was ground zero and that might mean something. they're driving around with his notebook trying to find the people who knew him when he was trying to get buddy back but there's so few real names that it's hard to find, and sometimes they find them but it's their bodies or their families who hadn't seen them in a week and fear the worst. they find terry and he's like "oh wow you're actually brad's kid! yeah the last time i saw your dad he ditched us on the side of a road? what happened" and they have to explain everything to him and he's like YIKES OKAY. they try to confront people right before they mutate to figure out what's going on, but they just can't find the connection, because joy isn't just joy, it's been laced into other drugs that people have been buying il/legally for years. the cops and the FBI can't figure it out either, and there were too many hunters who mutated for hunters to stay out of it.

they don't even realize the truth until it's staring them in the face, until dustin catches buddy taking a drug he's never seen before and she says it's a painkiller, it makes her a better hunter because she has to be a hunter now, but he knows something's wrong, and it's so wrong. it's almost too late when they find out that this is the drug that's been causing it the whole time. they know there's a ticking clock on buddy's life when they travel to find the source and shut it all down. bernie shows up to say some cryptic shit every now and then because he's in the exact same boat as her but he's terrified at how quickly it's progressing with her, at how it only took her a few months when it had taken him years. he was supposed to get her hooked on it but now he regrets ever taking that job even though it was the only reason he didn't go to prison.

basically i'm thinking joy kinda serves the same purpose as sam and his addiction to demon blood in s4, but when dustin finds out he's just like :( but you're like 18, baby sister, as opposed to dean who gets mad at like 80% of what sam does. but joy is also kiiiiiiiind of like the croatoan virus maybe? i also kinda like the idea that because joy canonically "makes you feel nothing" it could even make ppl act like how soulless!sam acts. it doesn't have a direct spn counterpart. maybe other hunters have started to guess at it and are trying to infiltrate drug operations and drug manufacturers to figure out where exactly normal drugs are being laced with joy? idk i have a LOT of work to do on this before it can really be a thing. it just came to me one night after watching spn, this was the exact thing i made at like 3 am on a google doc one night lmao

[nortnaibz]

when we were in college before i cut my hair one of the people in our dnd group forgot my name sometimes so he'd refer to me as the he/him lesbian which i thought was very funny although i am not a lesbian. he later said he thought me and my best friend were dating because we kept threatening to make out with each other

[theyapper0]

MAYORHOLIDAYMAYORHOLIDAY MAYORHOLIDAY MAYORHOLIDAY MAYORHOLIDAY MAYORHOLIDAY MAYORHOLIDAY MAYORHOLIDAYMAYO-

I'm so normal about the Holiday family I swear you guys

Here's Clarice Holiday(forget the tiny Mayor Holiday drawing I did waaay back when and ALSO forget that I called her Carol)

I have SO many thoughts about her guys. First of all, let's talk Abt her design. It's OBVIOUSLY based off Queen without making it TOO on the nose to look like her, just subtle things: the beauty mark, the 'heels', wine/battery acid, the chair (WHICH I THINK IS MY FAVORITE PART OF THE WHOLE THING), and of course, the shoulder pads

Holiday Family photo :]

Also keep reading if you wanna hear some of my takes on Clarice :)

I think Clarice is probably pretty lacking when it comes to the emotion department but I DO think she has them!! They're just very repressed on account on trying to make others believe she ALWAYS knows what she's doing.

For example, with Noelle, they're not the closest but Clarice DOES care for her daughter, she would do anything for her, it's just hard for her to express those feelings, more so after Dess disappeared and Clarice just threw herself into her work as a way to cope with the loss. By the time she realized that there was a HUGE gap in her relationship with Noelle, she didn't know how to fix it and pretends nothing is wrong.

She cares for Noelle and wishes they were closer and pushing her in school and being tough on her is a way of showing her love, she wants Noelle to be successful and to toughen up so no one steps all over her anymore (inadvertently while stepping all over Noelle)

She also wants to make more time for Noelle but it's hard bc of her job. She knows that she's closer to Rudy than she is to her and that is partly her fault but again, has no idea how to go about fixing that

With her and Rudy. I think Clarice moved to Hometown when she was a teenager (Asgore and Rudy lives there their entire lives) and her and Rudy did like each other but were young, people told them they were a cute couple and basically were expecting them to get together so they subconsciously did.

Rudy always loved Asgore but never realized his feelings till like, AFTER college and Asgore and Toriel got together and then, it was too late (Asgore realized he loved Rudy I think while he was dating Toriel but was confused bc he still loved Toriel as well). Clarice and Rudy both don't love each other romantically currently, they realized their true feelings a WHILLLLEE ago but stay together (bc of Noelle, Rudy's current condition, public appearances, etc) They do care deeply for one another, just not like that

Also, I did some math and if Kris and the gang are all 15-16 and Asriel is 19, the Spelling Bee took place in about 3rd grade (the word 'December' is a 3rd grade level difficulty), that means the OLDEST December could've been when she disappeared was 12

TWELVE????? BRUH THAT'S A LITTLE BABY 😭😭😭😭

[polyghostfacehours]

🏹anon here i’m trying to remember if I’ve requested for you or someone else but could we get a fic where reader kills someone for whatever reason and the boys find them and find it really hard and then they have bloody sex w possible knifeplay (but only If you wanna Ofc) bc that’s all I can think about right now 😌

I had a bad-ish day mentally, so this came out darker than expected. I also tried a different style of writing than usual. I'm really sorry that this took so long Bow! This got long because my fee-fees were working overtime. Also made it pre-relationship, because I'm a slut for best friends to lovers as a trope.

TW: NSFW, homicide, dissociation, knifeplay, bloodplay, woundplay

Poly!Ghostface x Reader - Blood on Your Hands

It felt like liquid heat ripping through your veins, the booming sound of blood rushing in your head like a too-loud swarm of cicadas. It gnashed angrily against your forehead, and the longer you stood there staring at what you'd just done, the louder it got.

Multiple stab wounds, bruising in the neck and collarbone area. You can practically see the headlines as they blaze through your mind's vision. You were going to go to jail. He hadn't even done anything to you yet, just gotten a little too words-y with you, thinly-veiled threats spilling drunkenly from him of what he'd do to your parents, your sibling, your relatives.

The worst part of this though? You felt euphoric. Truly free from the constraints of what society told you was an appropriate way to fight back. Was it undue retribution on your part? Perhaps. But damn if it didn't feel like that first kiss in adolescence, one you have after a shitty date at a roller skating rink with the first decently-attractive kid that promised to pay for your cardboard pizza and have you home by 9.

Your best friends, Billy and Stu, had always had your back. And you had always had theirs. Keeping their secret relationship from their girlfriends, when you had walked in on them one night. Covering their tracks for the illicit activities that you knew were wrong but could ignore because out of sight out of mind and hey, there wasn't anyone else you gave two genuine shits about in this town. Even after secretly witnessing what happened at Woodsboro that fateful night, you played ignorance to their schemes. You'd rather die than lose the two people you've ever had a true connection with.

So standing there at the dead of night, in the middle of the woods that harbored a beaten path towards the river you were planning on having a few joints at, you stared down at the drunkard who'd tried to stake claim to your spot. The man who'd aggressively threatened you, thinking you a young pushover, and the man that now lied in rigor mortis below you. The man who forced you into the visceral rage that'd been building up all these years of your miserable existence. And you did the one thing you thought you could never bring yourself to do.

When the two boys arrived, they came with gloves and tools and heat. Your phone call had shocked them. They didn't know that you had known for years about what they had done at your old hometown. But they had come for you anyway.

It was almost mesmerizing, watching Billy and Stu hack away at the body. It was the first time they'd done so, they had told you. You could see Billy physically try to stop the twisted grin that spread along his face. And if the childlike glee that crossed Stu's face and said anything, it was something he had fantasized about countless nights.

Once they had tied the individual body parts in burlap sacks and stuffed them into Stu's sedan, they had informed you of their plan to burn them in a bonfire deeper within the woods. They offered to drive you home. You refused. Soaked head to toe in drying blood and coagulating viscera, you wanted nothing more than to jump into the still, cold water and bathe in the endorphins that still fogged your mind. You had expected your two friends to shrug their shoulders and leave, opting to wash the blood now coating them in the comforting stream of a hot shower.

instead, they offered to join. You say you were going to get naked. They reply that they didn't mind. And in your hazy state of being, you hadn't noticed the dark, lustful clouds in their eyes; the way their eyes trailed up and down your body and took in whatever you had to offer. Something they had, unbeknownst to you, fantasized about when they were alone, and when they were together.

It didn't take long for the three of you to start touching one another. Under the pretenses of "You've got some blood there" or "let me get that for you" you allowed large, tainted hands to roam over you. Your mind begins to wander. You think of the glint of the knife he had dropped in his inebriation, the glimpses of organs within the gashes from the way you had drove it into him over and over. Flashes of the man's too-purple, too-green face after you strangled his dying body. Disgusting thoughts that sped through your mind like a macabre, lurid kaleidoscope you had never even wanted to look through, but was forced into your eye socket anyway.

Arousal sickeningly stirred in your being, and you could see it stir in theirs, the tips of their erections now bobbing just slightly above the water you three waded in, shame absent in their eyes as you washed each other. When you absentmindedly went to grab Billy's in front of you, in front of his boyfriend who stood just behind you, you were still dazed from all that had happened. His groan startled you out of your trance and you pull your arm back as if he was a match and you had been burned. Red shame covered your face as you stuttered out an apology to the two, you didn't know what was wrong with you, why you did that, "oh god im sorry".

This is all quieted when Stu presses himself against your back, his large hands trailing from their spot on your shoulders, down your arms, and settling on your hips. His hardness pushed against your still bloody back and you gasp. You look back at him questioningly, and where you expected to see blue in his eyes you saw black. Billy moved to grab your jaw and turn you to face him once again. His cheeks were flushed, and his lips parted to say words that had you almost keeling over.

"Do that again."

So you did. And then the metaphorical dam burst. Pumping him as the three of you stood in the water, you felt Stu press tightly to you, using your back and his stomach to grind his erection between slick skin. His hand reached around to begin rubbing you slowly and just as you're about to collapse from the sudden spark of pleasure, his other arm wrapped around your waist to hold you up.

Billy's grip on your jaw hadn't relinquished, but his other hand had come up to grasp the side of your neck. You were forced to stare him dead in the eyes and he bites his lips and groans as you tighten your grip and twist your wrist. He tells you how good you're working him and Stu chimes in about how hot this was. The moonlight bathing the three of you had Billy looking ethereal, and you couldn't help but try and move forward to kiss him. He wouldn't let you though, a playful smirk on his features as his hand gripped your throat not only from the side, but now wholly. His eyes flickered behind you, and with the cruelty only a man like Billy Loomis could muster, he kisses Stu and turns your head to watch.

If the sight wasn't enough to tow you over the edge, the fingers that moved to enter you finally was. Stu begins pumping them into you, curling to rub that one spot as Billy's chest presses against yours. You let out a pathetic moan, eyes tearing up and body trembling as a the orgasm that had been building finally sweeps over you. The two finish their impromptu make-out session, and turn to look at you.

Unbridled affection pools in their eyes at the sight of their twitching, glaze-eyed, still bloody and beautiful companion. They had had you in all aspects but love, and they could hardly believe they could now finally have you in the way the two had craved for years. In the way the two had spoken of in hushed whispers during and after hot, steamy fucking or a lazy movie marathon. In a way the two had buried deep inside, afraid of the unconventional and afraid of rejection from the only other person they had ever grown to love besides each other.

Billy pushes your still lazily stroking hand off of him and turns you to face Stu, whispering in your ear to "wait just a sec" before wading off back onto the shore to grab something. Stu's lips crash onto yours before you can say a thing, and soon his cock is in your mouth as you kneel further into the water. You look up at him as your lips and tongue work, gliding them along the underside before taking him deep. He stares down at you and the grip of his hand in your hair has you groaning around him, the tremors setting off needy moans in the man himself. He calls you his world, tells you how badly he wanted this, wanted you. How much he and Billy needed you between them, around them, on top of them, below them.

A pair of hands on your shoulders pulls you up and off of Stu. With a noise of indignation, you see Stu shoot Billy a 'what the fuck' look, before a flash of white light passes over his face and a too wide grin appears on his visage. He cackles as you turn around to see what Billy had shown him.

His bowie knife.

"Holy shit."

Was all that could leave your lips. Your loins burned and ached now, the excitement practically palpable on your tongue. With a gesture of the knife, Billy has Stu move you two closer to the shore, so that the water just barely hit his and Stu's knees. With a command of "lift them up." you feel Stu's hands under your thighs as he lifts you off your feet and spreads your legs, allowing you to lean your back against his chest. Billy doesn't ask for consent; he didn't need to. He knew the moment he and Stu had heard what happened that whatever dark shit swirled in their being was present in you as well.

The cold steel of the knife teased your collarbone, the sharp edge pulling a whimper from your mouth just as much as it pulled that unrelenting bubble of fear in your gut. You couldn't taste the steel, but somehow something thick and acetic coated your tongue. Is that how anticipation tastes like? Or were you just imagining Billy fucking your mouth with the knife? You didn't know.

The sharp sting of metal breaking skin pulled you out of your reverie as Billy pulled the knife down your sternum to just above your belly button. Blood pooled as he went, releasing in small rivulets, and you both shuddered. Billy's expression could hardly be contained. It was savage, a toothy grin on his face and he could hardly believe that he was cutting you up. He felt like any second his dick or the world would explode . He leaned down to tongue at the wound, probing the now searing flesh, and you hiss. It hurt, but it didn't. It hurt, but also made you want to cum. Billy's tongue, now sufficiently coated, moved to one of your nipples as he alid his hands along your chest and sides. He could taste both your blood and the dried blood of the man, a combination he thought he'd like but quickly decided against when he noticed the juxtaposition of your sweetness and the acrid taste of the man. He thinks he wants Stu's blood on you next time.

Stu groans at the sight of his boyfriend's tongue on his best friend's bloodied chest, and before you knew it you felt his cockhead probing your entrance before gingerly slipping you down onto him. You gasp at the dual sensations; the sharp pain of Billy's tongue moving back to your wound and the pleasure of Stu slipping inside of you with nary a warning, hitting you deep and well. Stu's grip on the back of your thighs tightens as he begins to languidly move you up and down on his cock.

Billy continues working your chest with his tongue before beginning the path southward. His pupils dilate even further, if possible, at the sight of the blood having trailed down to stain your genitals in crimson. Stu's cock was also now a diluted red color from thrusting in and out of you, both your juices and blood covering him. Billy licked his lips at the slight, leaning forward to begin working you over with his tongue, head dipping down slightly to every so often to lap at Stu as well. It was more for his sick pleasure than either of yours, as Stu's thrusting jostled you too hard for Billy to properly work you over, but the small flicks of tongue that were able to brush your most sensitive area had you whining.

Before long, Stu's movements had become jagged and rushed, and he moved to have his whole arms wrapped around the underside of your thighs and torso, using his hands to grip at his elbows and nearly fold you in half. The new angle hit you just right and once Billy felt he had had enough of a taste, his hand moved to speedily rub you. You almost scream through your second orgasm as it hits, thankful that you were in the middle of the woods and at the river, far from anyone. Your insides clenching and pulling on Stu had him burying his face in your neck, and a few minutes later he releases inside of you with a bite that breaks skin.

Stu slides out of you with a groan, allowing his cum to dribble out of you and into the water. But instead of setting you down, the two move you back onto shore. Billy was once again instructing Stu on where to place you, and as he lays you down on a patch of damp grass, you're surprised to see Billy straddle your abdomen. He regards you for a second, taking in your wet, bloodied visage again for what felt like the thousandth time that night. As his eyes drift to your wound and his cock pulses in front of you, he lowers himself down. Your eyes widen as you begin to understand what he's getting at, and you watch in awe as he uses his thumb to press the underside of his cock to your sternum, onto your wound.

You feel both the hardness of his length on the cut, as well as the softness of his balls begin to slide back and forth and you throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut. A whiny noise leaves your lips, and you can hear Billy chuckle and Stu's usual obnoxious laugh. They call you cute, and slutty, and perfect. You think to yourself how absolutely fucked up this is. How perfectly fitting this seems for someone horrible like Billy. He moves his hands to your chest to squeeze whatever you have to give against his length, regardless of how flat or voluminous you are, and his breath hitches as blood is smeared all over your abdomen and his cock.

The pain makes you dizzy in a way that isn't as bad as you thought it'd be. It stings, and it feels too hot. Yet the expressions your best friend (boyfriend?) makes as he glides himself along faster and faster makes it all worth it. In the corner of your eye you see Stu fisting himself rapidly, hard and leaking once again. He makes eye contact with you and grins, moving closer on his knees to now stroke himself almost above your chest next to Billy.

Giving your chest another squeeze and pulling whatever he can even further against his cock, Billy bends himself downward to hover right over your lips. He smiles at you, a real smile, and you smile back. He moves down the rest of the way to kiss you in a way that is somehow chaste and passionate at once. By the time he pulls back, his eyes are glazed and his cock is twitching, and after a long deep groan he releases right onto your wound. The sight brings Stu over the edge, and within a few seconds your chest is absolutely bathed in cum.

The night had begun cold and ended warm. Words of praise for how good you did were thrown your way from the two boys, and the three of you laugh. Neither of you are sure why. Maybe it was the post-sex high. Maybe it was the fact you killed someone and Billy and Stu's first instinct was to fuck you. Maybe it was because the three of you finally were able to come together in the way you had all desperately wanted. Maybe it was the non-verbal acknowledgement that the three of you were the scum of the Earth.

Whatever it was, you were glad for it. The three of you burned the body that night, and later when you laid down in their bed with them your limbs tangled and kisses and make-outs exchanged, the only thoughts that went through your mind is how glad you were to not be alone.

[thatsarcasticgemini]

hi! I was wondering if I could request a fluffy Ash imagine. I was wondering if it could be related to the song Talk to You by Ricky Montgomery. I had the idea that maybe Ash and y/n knew each other from his hometown and they had feelings for each other but never acted on it and they were close friends but lost contact with each other and then they found their way back but he was afraid of talking to her again bc he didn't think she remembered him but she does remember him and they're both happy

I sure can. I am so so sorry about the super duper long wait. My mental health failed me. I didn't really have time for anything. Thank you so so much Nonnie. I am in love with your idea. So here you have it. I used she/her pronouns. Hope you like it! I switched it up a bit, feel free to scold me if needed :)

The new us

Ash Lynx x fem!reader

Tokyo was a very busy city. You could see so many faces on the street, so many people waiting to get on the metro and just...so many people in general. Ash often felt overwhelmed, especially when he saw a face that reminded him of someone from his childhood. That was until he saw a very familiar face.

He was already running late to a photoshoot. It was on the other side of the city. As he was passing building after building, he happened to look inside a small cafe. The glass was clear enough to see the faces of the people inside. And there he saw her. Stopping in his tracks, he leaned closer to the glass to take a better look. She had some sort of apron with some animals and flowers on it. On her left strap was a pin made from a bottle cap and on her right was another pin made from a really really old bullet.

Summer was a very hot season. Being in the countryside didn't make it any better. The river side was packed with kids and young teens. The water was a source of relief for everyone. 10 year old Ash didn't like getting naked. He also knew he would suffer some pretty bad consequences if he came home to his father with wet clothes. The little 8 year old girl holding his hand was a lot happier than him. Her smile was so big, it almost made Ash smile as well. But nothing about his other surroundings was happy, so he chose to keep his happiness internal. Some teens 2-3 years older than him were looking at them, some laughing, some pointing, but somehow she didn't really seem to mind all that much. He really really wanted to punch them, but the peak of his "punching them so hard they faint" feeling was when a 14 year old boy named William Wills, who was known for tormenting younger girls, yelled out to her.

"Hey! Y/N! Did you guys pay each other? Like...how much does he owe you now, since you look so much better. Look at those doe eyes. Do you have the same big eyes when you go down on him?"

Ash got what he meant and was ready to trow some punches, but looking down at her very confused face, he realized that what William had said to her just now, to her 8 year old innocent happy mind, didn't really make any sense. If he punched him, he would have to explain to her why. Her mind wouldn't be as happy if she knew. She might as well look at him with disgust if she knew what had gone down in the home just up the hill. So he opted for a safer option: pulling her closer and kissing the top of her head. She let out a very childish squeal and moving her head to look up at him.

"Ash...why?" "Cause i wanna keep you safe. Also...cause you are my only friend." "But what about Griff? You said you are best friends." "We still are. But you can be my other bestfriend. Two is always better than one." Ash was smiling down at her, but her face was getting a little sad, her smooth forhead twisting in a sad frown. "But you are my only friend." Tears were almost spilling from her big eyes and it hurt him so much. He really had to say that hm? Yeah, good job Ash! "Y/N, Griff is my brother. He doesn't really count. If you had sibling they would be you other best friends too. Out of other children, you are my only best friend. I'm sorry. Here! Have this. I made it myself."

Ash reached the pocket of his jeans, taking off a pin made from an old bullet. Giving it to her, he pressed one more kiss to her hairline. She looked at the bullet and smiled ever so brightly, the events with the Wills boy already forgotten.

He knew he had a job, but she was there. She was right in front of him. The photoshoot could wait for a day. The company was small, they could wait, they needed him, not the other way around. He toom the blazer off and went in. The coffee shop was cute. It fit the person he rememberd her to be. He sat down at a random table and looked over the menu. Aroound 5 minutes into his stay, a girl popped out of nowhere. She had piercings everywhere, her hair was messy. She looked nice, but she wasn't the one he was looking for.

"You ready to order?" "I...uhm...I was looking for..." "It's ok Amaya, I'll take care of it for him." There she was. He let out a sigh. Oh shit wait. What if she didn't know who he was. He shouldn't say anything anyway.

"Just a blueberry tea with a white chocolate cookie please." "Are you going to pretend not to know who I am? Fine by me. Coming right up sir." He tried grabbing her wrist, but she shook him off. "Wait. Y/N please. It's been what 10 years since..." "12 years since you left me. A blueberry tea and a white chocolate cookie coming right up." "Listen, i know you're upset and you didn't deserve that but let me..." "...make it up to you? Not gonna happen Aslan, don't wanna see you again. Don't know why I started that convo."

"Ash, you don't have to leave!" "I so do. I am so done with this shitty town. I'm leaving for the big city. I can have a life there. This place is a dump. And the people here can go kill themselves." She didn't seem to approve of his statement, looking up at him with a tear stained face.

"You said i was your best friend. So why would you be friends with a bad person and then leave. Ash please stay! We can leave when we are older. We can go together then. Please don't leave me!" "Not everything is about you ok? Did you ever stop to consider what happened to me? Did you ever think about how it made me feel?" "You always say that you prtect me from what happened to you, but you've never told me what it was. Ash, tell me. Don't leave like this." "No. I won't tell you. You're nine. You wouldn't get it" "How would you know?" "I just do, Y/N. Drop it. Let go of my arm! I'll miss the bus." "No! I love you Ash. You're my only friend. I'll rip the flannel holding onto you if i have to."

And with that, Ash pulled himself away from her, taking off his backpack and flannel and throwing the shirt at her. Turning on his heel, he ran to the bus stop, getting on the bus, not even waving her goodbye, leaving the young girl on her knees, crying.

"I want to tell you..." "No no no no. You don't have the right to want anything at all. You have the right to go to hell. You told me nothing back then and now I don't want you to say anything." "You have to listen to me. I was a kid. I was afraid. I was alone." "Like hell you were. I was with you. You were all I had. But don't worry. 'you wouldn't get it'. Well i did get it after you left. I got everything you said that day. But not from you. From William fucking Willis and his friends while they were pulling on my shirt and throwing sand in my eyes. Go to hell Aslan!" "Did they do anything to you?" "Wouldn't you like to know?" "Please let me talk. Let me tell you why I left. I had a good reason. Please, Y/N." "Funny how you are the pleading one now." "I'm going to wait here and follow you around for as long as it takes until you hear me out." "You hurt me and i don't want to talk to you. I took the cap pin you had on your flannel and tried to move on. Get out of the shop, go on the small alley on the left and wait there. You have five minutes to convince me. Five. And I decided wether we see each other again after that." "Yes, ma'am." That truly was all he needed. Just a second to have a small talk. The alley was not as bad as the ones is the USA are. This one was about as long as the shop, front and back room. She was as punctual as ever, two minutes and she was already in front of him.

"Get to talking, Aslan. Or Ash. Or whatever the hell they call you. Your five minutes begin now." "Right. I have no clue how to word this, but I am so sorry. After I left town I went to live in the city. But life for a kid with no money, little clothing items and no relatives to help is a tough life. A man came to me, he told me he had been watching me and knew I needed help. But the help he offered was a curse. Men came to see me whenever they felt like it, took turns using me, took pictures, recorded the entire ordeal, paid that man well and left. That was my life for years. I managed to break the cycle and got revenge on mostly everyone involved. I moved to Japan. I visited the town, well visited sounds as if it was fun, the right word is I went into town. I looked for you and asked around. They told me you moved to an aunt of yours as soon as you turned, what 13?" "Her name was Celeste, my great aunt. We moved to France for a couple years, but she died and left me just enough to move and get a good apartment. I moved to Japan on a whim. How did you end up here?" "A friend of mine, who was a huge support durring my revenge time. He told me to start fresh. It seems that I have moved on, all memories of my childhood forgotten. The truth is, I have been imagining this moment for years. The moment when I would see you again. I hoped you would hear me out, try to understand and maybe forgive me." "Forgiveness is something you have to earn, Aslan. I won't let you off the hook easily. I will make this as hard as I can. Just know that I heard you, I am trying to understand you and will try to forgive you." "Earn forgivene...you'll let me see you again? After today, i mean. We'll see each other again?" "My shift ends at 6 today. You can wait 7 more hours. I am planning on dancing tonight, so don't wear anything formal. We can talk over dinner. I'm not sure I understand how you got revenge on them, but I'll let you explain." "6, dance, nothing formal, dinner. Understood. I'll see you here." "I'll see you here, Ash."

[pinkanonwrites]

Hi can I request for some hcs with aizawa,hizashi and toshinori with an s/o that sometimes goes to her parents house on holidays even though they don't have a good relationship but she just feels obligated bc they're her parents (plus they nag her about visiting) and they will actively nitpick her flaws and maybe the next time she visits she asks the guys to come with her for moral support -maybe the guys were also curious about her family-

This is long and specific sorry-

Not a problem! I'll be writing this on with she/her pronouns because that's what you used in your request, if that's alright!

"You really couldn't have even tried to visit earlier? I mean, it isn't like you're a real Pro Hero. You can't possibly be that busy."

"Sweetheart, haven't you been keeping up with your diet? You're not gonna be able to keep a man around looking like that. Men like women who put some effort into their appearance, you know."

"Here, hold him since you're so good with kids. I need a drink."

Holidays were always particularly rough with your family. You'd hoped you'd be able to get away from visiting this winter, considering your new job at U.A. had moved you hours south of your hometown and you only seemed to be getting busier with each passing semester. More papers to grade, more rowdy high schoolers to keep track of, less and less time to visit a family who were clearly missing their favorite punching bag.

But they were still your family, after all, and you'd rationalized that just a short visit couldn't possibly hurt. As you attempted to shush your wailing, tantrum-throwing nephew that your lovely sister-in-law had dumped into your arms, your boyfriend had finally reached the end of his rope with your family's behavior.

'End of his rope,' would be a gross under-exaggeration for the way Shouta was feeling right now. God, he'd heard you tell stories of your family before, but to witness it in person? It made his blood boil.

He could tell you were already exhausted with their behavior, the false smile on your face weakening with every needling comment from your parents and siblings.

Yeah, he had no time for this bullshit.

The instant your sister-in-law entered the room again he was stalking across it, swiping the glass from her hands.

"We're leaving. Take care of your own kid, and pray he doesn't turn out like you."

She was gawking, silent as he motioned for you to hand her back your nephew. You hissed to him, visibly embarrassed.

"Shouta!"

"Thank me in the car. We're going home."

The gazes of your family on the back of your neck were hot and uncomfortable as you slid on your boots, as Shouta held your coat open for you to put on.

"Shouta, what the fuck was that about?!"

You shivered in the passenger seat, Aizawa having not even given the car a chance to heat up a bit before driving away. He was bristling noticeably, but there's no way he was even half as angry right now as you were. "You can't talk to my family like that!"

"And they can talk to you like that?"

"Buh- You- It's different! They're like that. I'm used to it."

"You shouldn't have to be."

You had to admit, you didn't have a response for that. As the car warmed up and your parent's house disappeared into the rear-view mirror, you couldn't help but allow your shoulders to relax, just the slightest bit. For a long, uncomfortable moment, the only sound between you was the crunch of gravel beneath the tires.

"I thought..." He began, then paused, pinching the bridge of his nose between two fingers. "When you would talk about your family I often assumed you were exaggerating. I'm sorry for that."

"...They're really not that bad."

"You only think that because they're your family."

"...Yeah. Yeah, I know." Tears burned hot and angry in the corners of your eyes, and Shouta all but flinched at your first sniffle. "What am I doing wrong?"

"Nothing. You're doing nothing wrong."

"Then why are they like that?"

He sighed, resting a hand on your thigh and rubbing it gently. It was the best he could do to comfort you while still keeping one hand on the wheel and both eyes on the road. "We'll head home. Get take-out tonight. Watch a movie, maybe."

"No one's gonna be delivering take-out on Christmas Eve."

"You'd be surprised."

You sniffled again, rubbing at your eyes. "...Can we watch Rudolph?" You watched Shouta's face screw into a grimace out of the corner of your eye and couldn't help but laugh. "C'mon! It's a good movie!"

"Hm. Just one. We're too old for cartoons."

"Just for that comment we're watching The Grinch too."

He couldn't help the small smile crossing his face. "Whatever you say."

Hizashi Yamada

Hizashi had been doing his best to intercept and readjust the conversation where he could; You had wanted him to make a good impression, after all.

But man was your family making it hard to remain civil.

"Baby, how about you get the presents for the kids out of the car?" He sidled up to you once your sister-in-law was out of earshot. "I'll hold the lil' guy for you."

"It's okay, Zashi, I can-"

"Aw, shush, I insist." He shot your mom a megawatt smile as he cradled the kid in his arms. "That's my girl, always trying to take care of everyone. Was she always like that?" He smiled, but his stare was intense, almost daring your parents to try and correct him. "I'm lucky she let's me take care of her every once in a while."

He'd managed to get your nephew down to no more than a few teary sniffles when you returned, bags piled up on each arm and looking considerably less like you were about to break down after having a moment to breathe.

"There's my favorite gal! Well, let's get the kids their presents before we head out, huh?"

Your father tried to butt in. "Weren't you two supposed to stay overnight?"

"Ah, don't you remember? There's supposed to be a big snowstorm! We've gotta get back to the city and back on-call. A hero's job is never done!"

Well, that hadn't been the original plan. The overnight bags tucked in your trunk were proof enough of that. But with the reassuring look Hizashi was shooting you, you couldn't find it in yourself to correct him.

"I didn't know you were on call tonight." You murmured to him as you leaned into his shoulder, the slow rumble of the car making you feel even sleepier than you already were.

"I'm not. But, c'mon! I didn't want to stay if they were gonna keep treating you like that."

"They're gonna be so mad at me. Mom's not gonna shut up about 'how embarrassing it was' that we left early." You made big air quotes with your fingers about your mother's supposed choice of words. "She's probably already crying about it to whoever will listen."

"Well she can be embarrassed from a safe distance... A little over four and a half hours away seems good enough to me, don'tcha think?"

You had to admit, heading back to your shared apartment sounded a hell of a lot better than spending one more minute in that house. It's how you wanted to spend the holidays with Hizashi in the first place.

"Sorry you came all this way for nothing."

He turned his head just enough to press a kiss to the crown of yours. "Not nothing! Now I know I've gotta have some excuses set up for whenever your parents want you to visit."

"Pfft!"

"How many times can I say I'm getting a wisdom tooth out before they get suspicious?"

"Probably only four."

"Well that's at least four holidays covered. I think that's a good start!"

Toshinori Yagi

You had assumed that your family would be on their best behavior while visiting. I mean, you were bringing freaking All Might. Surely that was enough to get them to tone it down, just a little bit.

And yeah, you were partially right. They were on their best behavior.

For Toshinori. Your mom was a saint, your father had nothing but compliments. Your siblings were clamoring for a moment to speak your praises to him. When he was in the room, they were at their absolute best of behaviors.

As soon as he was out of the room, though?

"You seriously expect me to believe you're actually dating him?" Your sister-in-law had cornered you in the kitchen after Toshi had taken your nephew off your hands, listening intently to the toddler's babbling and bouncing him on his knee.

"Why else would he come with me for Christmas?" You shot back.

"Oh, please. Like All Might would actually be with you. So what is it, you're his secretary, right? Maybe a good lay?"

"Don't you dare-"

"You're blackmailing him, aren't you?" She hissed, shoving you back against the fridge. "My husband always says you're a fucking freak, there's no way All Might of all people would actually be with you. There's something wrong with you, we all know it. Soon enough he's gonna know it too."

You bit back tears, desperate not to let her catch a glimpse of weakness. "You all can talk as much shit about me as you want. God knows that's all you've got going for you. But never talk about Toshi like that. Ever."

She scowled, reeling her arm back to toss the glass full of wine into your face.

Or she would've, had a large, bony hand not come up to stop her.

"I think you've had enough to drink."

Toshinori's voice was ice cold, a tone you've only heard him use against villains. His grip on the glass was gentle, but there was an air of barely contained pressure around it as he pulled the glass from your sister-in-law's grip and set it on the counter.

"A-All Might! How have you been enjoying-"

"That's quite enough." He rested a hand on your hip and pulled you closer to him, putting further distance between you and your sister-in-law. "Why don't you head back and keep an eye on your son? It'd be a shame if you had to tell him All Might had to leave early because of your behavior, wouldn't it?"

"I- You- Of course. Yes, of course."

As she wandered out of the kitchen he was quick to turn his attention back to you, all soft eyes and concerned, gentle touches. He cradled your cheeks, brushing your hair back from your face. "Are you alright?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, she didn't do anything."

"Nothing physical, but that doesn't mean she's innocent. If you want I have no problem heading home right now and-"

"No."

"No?"

"You said it yourself, i don't want the kids to be disappointed because All Might had to leave! They're kids, they didn't do anything wrong."

"Well, yes, but I didn't mean-!"

You silenced him with a kiss. "After the kids are asleep we can head home. I know you'll look after me until then, my hero."

His expression softened as he rested his forehead against your own. For the rest of the night Toshinori was sure to never leave your side, even for a moment.

[in-superbloom]

did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen? (a.i.)

right where you left me: prologue

pairing: ashton irwin x olivia jones (oc)

warnings: uhh a kinda grieving theme i guess? but no deaths. it has a sad tone overall, but nothing major (in this chapter hehe). foul language because i can't help myself. the tiniest mention of alcohol, but as a memory. think i should probably warn you that this contains a very sad ash. also not much dialogues. this is mainly for explanation and introduction, but very important for the story. if you find anything else that might be triggering, please let me know so i can add it here !!

author's note: oof okay. so. this is the prologue of a series very very dear to my heart that i've been working on for what it feels like my whole life but really it's been just a few months. but i'm in love with the story (which rarely happens with my own writing) so i hope you can enjoy it too !! this is also my very first time posting a fic since 2013 so pls keep that in mind <3 no i am not shaking as type this ofc not also: although i have the full story ready in my head, this is the only chapter that's written. i wanted to wait until i had at least a few ready before posting this but i'm too anxious for that lmao just saying this bc it will take a good while until i have any more chapters, so <3 (p.s.: i went over this thing a million times since may so if you find any errors pls look away, i'm not fixing this thing anymore. thanks <3)

another note: anna from the future here to say that i completely forgot about the playlist i made for the story lmao here it is in case you're interested k thanks bye <3

credits: title is from taylor swift's song right where you left me. model in the picture: paola locatelli. banner by me.

i also wanted to take a minute to thank some really nice friends that i've made here over these past few months & that i'm extremely grateful for @wastelandcth @suchalonelysunflower @littledrummerangie i cannot thank you babes enough for inspiring me the way that you do & for letting me yell about this to you && for encouraging me so much 🥺 i'll never be able to explain just how much this means to me, so i'll have to settle for saying thank you at any change that i can get <3 i love you all 💜 also gem my baby, thank you for the inspo with the banner 💚

@bluesdelis look babe i did it 😌 you know how grateful i am for you & for you letting me have a breakdown every week about my writing for the past 8 years so let's not dive into that or else i will write something bigger than this prologue jsjsjdjd love you 🖤

i hope you all have a good reading and a nice day ♡

let me know what are your thoughts about the fic ! ♡

word count: 4.1k

☆☆☆

Cold. That was the first thing that Olivia’s brain processed.

Still with her eyes closed, she buried herself more into the duvet, while her arm blindly reached for the furnace in human form that she calls boyfriend. However, as soon as her arm was only met with cold sheets, her eyes shot open.

Blinking the sleep away, she sat up on the bed, searching for the infamous red clock resting on Ashton’s bedside table that was supposed to look like a vintage alarm clock. Olivia had ordered it online at an auction website a couple of years back, as a gift for his 23rd birthday, since it was something he had mentioned multiple times prior that he was looking for, but still hadn't found. But when it finally came in (two weeks after the due date), it looked nothing like the picture she saw on the website. Feeling beyond frustrated, she wanted to send it back immediately and ask for a refund and maybe leave a not so polite review on the seller's page. But Ashton stopped her right away, laughing like the situation was absolutely hilarious to him, while saying, 'I like it, it’s quirky'. So, the clock stayed and found a home right next to him in their room.

Some days, however, she would wake up at some ungodly hour because of the blaring noise of the only ringtone the clock had. But whatever annoyance she could feel towards the object, it always vanished as soon as she felt Ashton's lips gently touching her face in a good morning kiss before he would get up to start his day, leaving her to catch some more hours of well deserved sleep.

As the furthest from a morning person as a touring musician could possibly be, Olivia had always feared that living under the same roof as Ashton would turn her into an early bird like him, but she's thankful that it never happened (not that he needs to know about that).

When she sees the red clock, she smiles at the sudden but welcome memories of them flooding her foggy brain, but frowns slightly when she realizes it reads 12:13 pm. Ashton rarely lets her sleep past 10 am.

Gathering all her strength and will, she rises up from the bed, smoothly picking up a grey wool sweatshirt from the chair (way too baggy on her slim body, but it smells like him), pulling it over her head and relishing on the soft material warming up her body. Making her way to the door and calmly going down the stairs, she can’t help but stop for a minute to admire the picture frames on their walls, one in particular catches her attention – probably one of the most prized pictures and memories they had. It felt older than it actually is, but it was around 4 years ago, she's sure – a little while after the two of them met. The picture was of their group of friends that still remains the same: Ashton and his best friend, Luke; Olivia, her best friend, Calum and their old hometown friend, turned into Calum’s new friend at college, turned into everyone’s friend, Michael; and her then newly band members, Suki, Eli and Ravi. Together, their group was the life of the party through all their college years, and it showed by the big smiles and drinks in hands they all had in the picture. It was a very special night, the first time Olivia’s little band played for the public – for a small audience sure, but it was a wonderful night nonetheless. What a long road it had been since that night.

Her nostalgic thoughts were interrupted by a shiver that went through her whole body, and it made her realize how oddly cold the whole house was, not only their bedroom. Which, granted, it was November in New York and the weather was just getting colder, but that’s exactly why Ashton always made sure to keep the house warm enough. As much as she loved the chilly season, the warm weather always reminded him of his hometown, and who was she to deny him that?

The smell of fresh made coffee could be sensed even before she reached the kitchen. Arriving there, the curly haired woman still found no signs of her boyfriend, so she went straight after the coffee maker pot sitting on the far left corner of the cream marble counter. Smiling softly at the tons of memories of Ashton's sleepy figure making their favorite beverage, she reached for a coffee mug on the cupboard on top of the counter and poured the remainder of the hot liquid on it (it's her favorite mug, if she must choose – it was a gift from a fan, and it had printed on it a collage of the pictures of her and Ashton that were posted on social media through their first year of relationship).

Moving to the glass doors that lead to the mini garden they cultivate, she didn't have to open them to spot the 6-feet-tall man sitting on a bench outside, looking oddly small in his oversized clothes, coffee mug tightly held between strong hands. Something about his figure made Olivia frown, however: he was staring with an unwavering look at her small but eye-catching pot of yellow daffodils that were almost as much of a pet to them as Stitch at this point. Sensing that there’s something definitely off about his semblance, she made a mental note to talk to him and find out what’s wrong later. So she goes back to the kitchen, knowing that he might need this quiet and private moment for himself.

She lost count of the minutes that went by (couldn't have been more than five) before she hears the garden's door opening and closing, and then his bare feet are dragging his brawny body to her. Except, he goes over to the sink, walking right through her, not showing any sign that he even saw her hunched figure over the counter table in the middle of the room.

Alright, someone's in a mood.

Olivia tries to swallow the annoyance already bubbling inside her – he knows how much she hates to be ignored, no matter how mad he might be – by trying to think of what she can say that won't piss him off. This is always a hard feat to accomplish when Ashton gets in these moods, but there’s a reason for them to work so well together.

“I missed my favorite body heater when I woke up,” she says in her best sweet voice, knowing how quickly his resolve crumbles when he hears that voice.

Still, no reaction.

That settles a worry at the pit of her stomach, because Ashton is never like this. Even when he's not in the mood to talk, he always gives some kind of reaction to her words; it doesn't matter how small, just enough to make her feel acknowledged.

When he's finished washing his mug and the few scattered dishes across the sink – she noticed that he already had lunch, if the lone plate in the drying rack is anything to go by –, he dries his hand in a towel, turns around and throws it on top of the same counter Olivia was leaning up against. Once again, he walks away not even sparing her a look.

Indignant, she leaves the now empty coffee mug on top of the table and follows him as he walks up the stairs, any determination to not aggravate his mood now well gone.

“Hey! In case you didn't notice, I'm right here. Whatever got you in this sour mood, I'm certainly not to blame, so can you stop being a child now and talk to me?!”

Ashton just keeps walking – more like sluggishly dragging his body – until he reaches their bedroom and suddenly stops just merely two feet inside the room, looking around with vacant eyes; like he was expecting to see something that wasn't there.

“Okay, that's really mature of you. Are you planning on ignoring me all day then?” Olivia questions exasperated, staring angrily at the back of his neck, where the condor tattoo lives – her favorite of his, but that sight doesn't bring her any peace today like it usually does.

Her glare only breaks when she hears the familiar sound of dog tags swaying on her right side. Shifting her gaze to the direction of the sound, Olivia notices Stitch, their small, black & white French bulldog – who she thought was outside in the garden – slowly trudging his way from around the bed until he stops at Ashton's feet, looking up at one of his humans with sad eyes. That realization only makes the worry in her stomach grow uncomfortably.

“Hi buddy,” Ashton's voice cracks a bit from the lack of use, but he smiles softly at the sweet dog, and crouches down to pet him.

Olivia can't help but gasp as she notices three things all at once that leave her overwhelmed: first, how she didn't even notice Stitch was in the room when she woke up – which never ever happens, in fact, most days he wakes her up whenever he deems her bedtime as finished and can't ever contain his excitement when she finally gets up; second, how the windows blinds are closed, which, again, rarely occurs under their roof, not if Ashton can help it. And third, how sad and melancholic the whole scene in front of her is – how sad and melancholic Ashton is. Pointless to say by now – that's also a very rare occasion.

A chill creeps up Olivia's spine, putting her body into high alert and also serving as a reminder of how everything looks out of place today. Trying to keep her head from spiraling down way too soon, she wraps her arms around herself and crouches down beside her two favorite boys, trying once more.

“Ash? Can you hear me?” even with her throat closing, she softly asks, purposefully putting her face in Ashton's point of view. Her only answer is the low whispers he's letting out to Stitch, while cradling the tiny dog in his arms, spreading gentle kisses on his head.

“I know, bud, I know. I miss her too,” is the only whisper she could understand and immediately wishes she hadn't. The weak wail that comes from Stitch's throat seems to fit perfectly with how the three of them feel.

Ashton then looks up and for a couple of seconds, and Olivia can swear he’s staring right into her eyes. But when he shows no reaction, she knows he’s just staring ahead and not at her, with that look that says there’s too much going on inside his head. She feels the urge to embrace him and get him to talk about whatever is on his mind, so they can share that weight like they always do, but when Ashton gets up from the ground and settles on the bed with Stitch, Olivia can physically feel the crack in her heart caused by the feeling she’s left with.

While Ashton is pulling the duvet over him and the dog, with clearly no intentions of getting up anytime soon, Olivia stands up on her feet with a new-found determination – she needs to figure out what the hell is going on.

This nightmare had to be just that, right? Nothing but a very vivid dream – she's had those before. Scary sure, but they always go away, and soon enough she's back into Ashton's arms, with Stitch jumping on the bed ready to lick their faces off. She just needs to wake herself up from whatever fucked up dream this is – right?

She's running down the stairs this time, frantically in search of something, of what exactly, she doesn’t know – but she knows she needs an answer. The more she looks for something, the more desperate she gets, not knowing what to look for. Then suddenly, something catches her eyes.

The white and blue calendar that's held up by magnets on the side of the fridge. She knows their calendar is red and yellow. They got it from their favorite flower market. Slowly, as if scared of what it might be there – “It's just a calendar, for fucks sake” – she approaches the damn thing. Upon inspection, she deems it as a normal calendar – she really doesn't know what she was expecting – until.

She knows what's wrong with it now.

It's November. She knows it, because the Asian and last leg of her first world tour is about to begin November 21st, eleven days from today. Right after Mike's birthday, she knows this.

Then why does the calendar say today is January 14th?

☆ ☆ ☆

Ashton woke up with a jolt. He quickly sat up, frightening the little Frenchie that was asleep right next to him on the bed. Trying to make sense of his surroundings, he roughly rubbed his face to get some sleep off of it and soon reached for the dog that was staring at him with sleepy but sad eyes. Ashton is sure Stitch understands far more than a dog is supposed to understand about their current situation.

The room is covered in shadows, almost pitch black, but he can see the sunlight even through the thick dark grey blinds covering up the windows. Ashton knows he won't be able to sleep again at that moment, so he gets up from the bed – much slower than he used to. His heartbeat is still out of control because of the nightmare that woke him up, but he can't bother to pay attention to it when Stitch is softly wailing beside him. Ashton lets out a ghost of a smile when the dog rests his head on his right upper thigh, looking up at him with an expression Ashton knows all too well.

“C'mon you little ravenous creature, let's feed you,” the bulldog excitedly jumps to the ground, already running his way down the stairs, not even waiting for Ashton to get up.

That gets a real smile out of him, but it vanishes as soon as he glances at the alarm clock on his bedside table. It reads 5:13 am, nothing out of the ordinary for him. But that small and inoffensive clock, with its red paint peeling off, holds a lot of memories for him. Memories that two months ago would bring joy to his heart, but now he almost wants to throw the object across the room.

It was a stupid thing, really. He had been wanting a vintage alarm clock and Olivia got one for his birthday. But the product they received was definitely not the one she bought, and if he's being honest, he didn't like it as much as he made out to. But seeing her so excited in the weeks before it arrived, and how disappointed she was when it did, he couldn't help but try his best to make her smile that luminous smile again. It's part of his nature by now.

That's also the reason why he lets her think that he doesn't notice when she wakes up at some ungodly hour (her words, not his) along with him, because of the annoying and only sound the alarm clock is able to produce. He always leaves soft kisses in every inch of bare skin he can find on her sleeping figure, so she goes back to the dream land and doesn't wake up before 10 am. No one wants to deal with that kind of bad humor, not even him.

As much as he likes being a morning person and absolutely enjoys her company in the mornings, he knows she'll take any and every extra hour of sleep she can get before starting the day. And that's why he loves that she's so stubborn that his early bird tendencies never got to her – he knows she feared that this would happen when they moved in together, but he met her like this, fell for her like this. He wouldn't change a single thing about her.

Ashton drags himself out of the bed, wincing slightly at how cold the wooden floors are under his bare feet. He doesn't bother putting some socks on, or a sweater – the cold weather in the house is uncharacteristically comforting to him. Nothing feels warm without her anyway.

While descending the stairs, he mentally curses himself for not being strong enough to look past the picture frames on the wall. One in particular catches his eyes – a picture from the night of Olivia's first concert with her band. The memories of that night are still painfully vivid in his mind: the laughter among their group that eventually infected everyone at the pub, Suki and Luke's first kiss and the silly smile that didn't leave his best friend's face all night, the standing ovation Olivia got after her three-songs set, and her captivating and breathtaking smile that made him realize right then and there, while watching her sway to the music, that he was definitely falling in love with her and there was nothing he could do to stop it – not that he wanted to.

So many memories held up on that wall, in the relatively short time since they met, that he can't help but wonder if that's all they'll get in this lifetime.

Ashton is abruptly taken out of his thoughts by Stitch's barks coming from the bottom of the stairs. He quickly jogs down the few steps left and goes straight after the dog's food in the kitchen's cabinet. After Stitch starts to happily devour his breakfast, Ashton goes to make his coffee, doing enough for two people like he always does, since Calum drops by most days for a chat or to drop Duke before going to work. Although all three of them know he just can't bother to make food for himself in the morning, while Ashton is the group's elected chef. Ashton always says he just needs a boyfriend – Olivia says Calum already has one who makes him breakfast every day.

He grabs an apple from the fridge and makes his way outside to their garden. Even though a lot of their memories took place there, the garden is the only space in the house where he doesn't feel like suffocating all the time. At least here, he can breathe some fresh air and look at the sky when he's feeling overwhelmed – which is basically all he's been doing for about a month now.

Yet, a lot of the garden has Olivia's name written all over.

He remembers vividly the day she came home after spending two weeks in LA doing some pocket shows, with a pack of daffodil seeds and the largest smile. She excitedly told him that a friend gifted it to her when she mentioned the little garden they were planning to build together at their new house. The friend told Olivia that daffodils symbolize rebirth and new beginnings, so as the good lover of symbolism that she is, Olivia loved the idea of having those flowers to symbolize their new beginning.

Ashton, on the other hand, wasn't a fan of the flowers at first – he just didn't see the appeal to them. But nonetheless, he indulged her, letting Olivia plant the seeds near the bench they used to sit during the quiet and unrushed afternoons, so they could admire the sunset, and she could happily look at the daffodils.

Pointless to say – the damn flowers grew on him.

Now, however, looking at them without Olivia and her contagious joy next to him, they were back to be as dull as they were before, if not more so.

Still lost inside his head without any sense of how much time went by since he sat down, Ashton doesn't hear the front door closing, and doesn't notice that he's no longer the only person inside the house until someone sits next to him on the bench. Yet, he doesn't show any sign of acknowledgement to them.

A few minutes go by before either of them speaks up.

“Luke said you didn't go to see her yesterday,” Calum starts softly, not wanting to disturb the calmness of the morning.

Ashton takes a few seconds to respond, “No point in doing that.” The black haired man licks his lips while thinking carefully about his next words.

“You know staying inside this house all day by yourself won't help either,” Calum turns his head to his left and takes a good look at Ashton's uncharacteristically hunched over figure, and immediately thinks that anyone can tell this man is not himself anymore. His second thought is that Olivia would hate seeing him like this.

“And what exactly do you expect me to do? Move on with my life like nothing happened? Like I'm not slowly and painfully losing the love of my life? Just because it’s easy for you doesn't mean it's easy for me.”

Calum closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He knows Ashton doesn't mean it, it's the anger and frustration talking. He knows it. Doesn't make it sting any less.

“I'm not telling you to move on with your life, because that's far from what I'm doing, and I certainly don't expect you to do it. I'm just saying you need to occupy your mind or else–”

“I'll go insane? Think it's a bit too late for that,” Ashton interrupts with a bitter tone that doesn't belong to his usual chirpy voice.

“You know it's not,” Calum sighs and drinks the rest of his coffee, moving his body slightly, so he's facing the blonde man, “I got a job interview for you at that school you talked about so much last summer, the principal said you can go any day this week. I went ahead and sent her your resume as well as explained everything that she needs to know about Olivia, so you don't have to. You just gotta put on some decent clothes and show up.” he sees Ashton's face softening a little and takes it as a victory. A few beats go by and then, “Maybe take a shower too. That's gonna make you feel better.” Calum leans in closer to his friend's personal space and takes a sniff, causing Ashton to deflect from him slightly, but not to push him away – another small win.

“Definitely take a shower, you stink. When was the last time your hair saw shampoo?”

“Fuck off,” is Ashton's only reply to the younger man's inquest. But Calum can see a smile creeping up on the blonde's face, which brings out a smile of his own.

“I'll send you all the details later today,” he checks the hour on the watch on his wrist and gets up, “Just please, Ash, go. I can't lose you too.”

Calum gently lays a hand on Ashton's shoulder and squeezes a little. The man doesn't look up, but gives a curt nod to his friend, who's satisfied enough. Calum stops on the threshold of the garden glass doors to give some kisses to Stitch – who came to make Ashton company as soon as he finished his food –, and then he puts the coffee mug on the dishwater. And soon enough, he's on his way out of the door. But not before snatching a tangerine from the fridge.

Ashton is left by himself once again. As he hears the sound of the front door closing, he thinks that this might be his life from now on. Just him and Stitch, trying their hardest to make it through another miserable day without the love of their lives. While everyone else comes by just to make sure he's still breathing. Breathing, maybe, but alive?

Swallowing the tears, he looks up at the sky. It's a deep, beautiful mix of orange, pink and blue, but he knows that it won't last long and soon the rain will be pouring down. He thinks about how much Olivia loves the rain.

God, he needs to pull himself together. She would hate to see him like this. Maybe he should take Calum's offer after all, he really needs to occupy his mind.

Making a mental note to thank Calum later, and also to apologize for how rude he was to him this morning, Ashton slowly gets up from the bench to put his mug on the sink and makes his way to the living room, with the small dog loyally following his every step. He puts on some cartoon that for once doesn't remind him of her (she always lovingly made fun of him for still watching those) and cuddles with Stitch on the couch. He can take a shower later.

Not half an hour goes by, he falls asleep and has a good dream for a change. He dreams of the days he spent with Olivia in the Philippines last February, right before her first world tour started. Some of the most magical days of their lives – surrounded by delicious food, a whole new culture to learn about and the warmth of the sun. Infinite counted days full of love and passion, where they were the only people in the world.

Even his subconscious knows to hold on to that brief moment of happiness, because he might never live that again.

[sharkbait77]

Straight From The Horse's Mouth (Marcus Pike x gn!Reader)

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: Y'all... For once I get to say none lol I mean look at the rating 😅 I guess some slight anxiety & smooches, I didn't even curse omg who am I 🤣 just fluff here bc I think we could all use it nowadays

W/C: 1.4k

A/N: Writer Wednesday!! 🥰 Was missing my Marcus baby after The Singer 😭 I'm not entirely sure how proud I am of this bc I was like half asleep but I'm throwing it into the pit anyway lol also very special shoutout/thank you to my wife @asta-lily for naming this fic for me bc my brain was too tired 🥺♥️ hope y'all like it! As always, thank you @autumnleaves1991-blog & @clydesducktape for keeping us involved & motivated to write! ♥️

Masterlist || Taglist

"C'mon, baby, please?"

"I-I don't know honey, I'm sorry, but I don't know the first thing about riding," Marcus stutters as he keeps his eyes on the majestic beast behind you.

"There's nothing to it! First things first, you gotta settle down, they can sense fear," you step forward to place your hands on his chest, the racing of his heart thumping against your palms.

Marcus Pike was not afraid to try anything new, but when it comes to something as adventurous as this, he prefers a controlled environment for the first go. Skydiving? Sure, as long as he gets a feel for it in one of those wind tunnels beforehand. Rock climbing? Absolutely, as long as he builds the strength for it and trains at a rock climbing gym. A horse trainer in a fenced-off field, for example, would settle his nerves in this particular instance.

"I just don't think it'll be a good idea, I'm too nervous and I don't know what to do, the last thing I want is to go flying off a cliff," he frowns at you.

The two of you have only been dating for six months, but your relationship is definitely on the fast track. You had already felt comfortable and secure enough with him to invite him back home to Arizona for the summer and he hates feeling like he's letting you down, especially being in your hometown. But the way you look up at him with those caring eyes, no judgement or anger at all present, he almost lets his true feelings for you slip.

"Okay Marcus, I won't push you to do anything you're not comfortable with," you smile, gliding your hands up his chest to wrap around his neck and you pull him closer to you for a kiss. "Hey, would you feel better...riding with me?" You ask cautiously and he winces.

"Is my FBI man really afraid of a sweet, little horse?” You tease and stick your bottom lip out into an exaggerated pout.

"Okay, first of all, ouch," he laughs and shoves his face into your neck, his nose digging into your pulse point and tickling you. "Second of all, she is not little, alright? And she doesn't know me, I'll probably spook her."

"Look, do you trust me?" You ask and he pulls away to look at you.

"Yeah sweetie, of course I do," he smiles and kisses your cheek.

"Okay, well I've been riding since I was twelve, and I've had Melody girl since I was thirteen. I trust her more than anyone."

"Oh really? More than me?" Marcus smirks and raises an eyebrow.

"Depends on the situation," you tease again and laugh as he digs his fingers gently into your side to tickle you. He pulls away quickly though, his eyes immediately shooting back up to the brown and white mare as she huffs a breath, having been startled slightly by your laugh.

"Okay, I won't ask anymore," you continue as you look at Marcus's scared face. "I'll just go riding alone," you pull away from him. "All alone," you turn around to reach a hand out to calm down Melody. "All by my lonesome."

"Okay, okay, fine," Marcus chuckles as he gives in. He's so screwed if he can't say no to you, even if he is scared shitless. Anything to see that bright smile.

"Yay!" You cheer, not as emphatic as you normally would so Melody doesn't startle again. "You're going to love it. There's nothing like this feeling."

~ ~ ~

After you promised a few minutes of riding around the stables on your family's land just so Marcus could get the feel for it, he felt comfortable enough to let you take him out to the desert. You certainly know what you're doing and, as time went on, he fully relaxed on Melody's back, focusing instead on the weight of your body pressed into his.

"You doing okay back there? You're not gonna throw up, are you?" You ask, chuckling the last part of your question.

"No, I am not going to throw up," he laughs and you lean your head back against his shoulder briefly before straightening again to keep your focus. "But… I have to admit you were right. This does feel great."

"I'm glad you're enjoying it, babe," you smile widely, causing Marcus to do the same as he hears the grin in your voice. He's only sorry that he's not looking directly at it.

You continue riding, slow and steady, while Marcus leans forward to rest his chin on your shoulder and he rubs your thighs softly and lovingly with his hands. It truly is an experience like none other he's had; there's something magical in feeling the heartbeat and breathing of the mare under his legs, riding one of the world's gentlest creatures, just like they used to – probably exactly where you're riding – once upon a time. He knows he'll have to bring up the idea of taking on horse riding as a regular hobby with you once you get back home.

Although he likes that idea, he knows the fenced-off field you'll end up having to ride in won't satisfy the feeling of being out in the open like this. Arizona is truly a sight of wonder, the red rocks and monoliths spanning out so far ahead against a pale blue sky that Marcus feels like he's staring at a painting instead.

The heated air actually feels pleasant against his face, perhaps due to the motion of the horse creating a larger breeze than it would if he were walking. All with the one he loves in his arms. Though he hasn't admitted that to you yet.

"Thank you for convincing me," he murmurs in your ear and chuckles in satisfaction at the shiver he feels course through your body.

"Well, thank you for trusting me. For trusting Melody," you smile.

You click your tongue and gently tighten your grip on the saddle with your thighs, pulling slowly on the reins until Melody comes to a full stop.

"Wow…" Marcus sighs, taking in the impressive sights before him.

So many rocks; tall, red formations as large as mountains. He can't help himself and pulls his phone from his pocket to take a picture. The phone camera doesn't do it justice, but he's hoping there will be many more visits to see your family in the future. Maybe even with kids? If he dared look that far ahead.

"Here," you call out, turning your body just enough to hold out your hand. He assumes you mean his phone and passes it to you and you open his camera app, changing it to selfie mode. "Smile!"

He grins automatically at your sing-songy tone, his large smile nearly making his eyes shut and you smile just as wide as you snap the photo, capturing the tall monoliths in the background with your silly grins at the forefront.

"I love it," you mutter to yourself while you set it as your contact picture in his phone.

"I love you, too," Marcus sighs.

"Wait, what?" You ask, turning your body as much as you can to look at his face.

"Wait… What?" Marcus flushes red, nearly matching the rock surrounding you.

His eyes go wide as he realizes what he just confessed, what just slipped from the secret safe of his brain and out of his mouth. His heart pounds in his ears and he stutters while you wait for an answer from him.

"Did you just…?" You ask – well, try to ask.

"I-I… Well… Yeah, yes I did," he breathes out, feeling more embarrassed than ever. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to blurt it out like that. I think I got lost in the moment," he says quietly, hoping you didn't think you were moving too fast in your relationship.

"But did you mean it?" Your voice goes soft and Marcus sighs.

"Yes," he smiles. "Yes I did. I love you," he repeats.

"Marcus," you reach back to grab his hand. "I love you, too."

"Yeah?" He grins and releases a laugh in a breath he had been holding.

He leans forward to kiss your cheek and you turn your head to kiss his lips, holding him in that position to share in this heartfelt moment with him. With the man you love. After only a few seconds, however, Melody neighs and both you and Marcus jump, Marcus wrapping his arms tightly around your waist while you settle Melody down.

"Okay, maybe we should head back now, I just saw my life flash before my eyes," Marcus declares and you laugh, squeezing Melody's sides with your calves to coax her to walk, turning back around towards the way you came.

~

Tags: @the-ginger-hedge-witch @asta-lily @honeymandos @pascalpanic @aliwritesfic @mandocrasis @hnt-escape @winter-fox-queen @barbossa2319 @sarahjkl82-blog @day-off-inkyoto @pedrocentric @astoryisaloveaffair @ezrasbirdie @danniburgh @foli-vora @lucrezia-thoughts @djarinsbeskar @chasingdreamer @quica-quica-quica @meesterblack @amandalovess @hunterofartem1s @pedro4ever @mishasminion360 @wardenparker @librariantothejedi @fan-of-encouragement @javierpinme @writeforfandoms @ew-erin @you-got-me-starry-eyed @quietpainter @beskarboobs @andiesturgss @maryfanson @princessxkenobi @castleamc @pbeatriz

Marcus Pike Tags: @rebel-fanfare

[usertiff]

(for the meme) Nathalie Kelley

oh my goodness she's BEAUTIFUL okay here we go

SEND ME FCS YOU COULD PICTURE ME PLAYING AND I’LL CREATE A CHARACTER RIGHT ON THE SPOT (or way later bc i'm slow)

BASICS

𝘕𝘈𝘔𝘌: Rosella "Ella" Vásquez 𝘈𝘎𝘌 & 𝘋𝘈𝘛𝘌 𝘖𝘍 𝘉𝘐𝘙𝘛𝘏: 37 & March 30th (Aries) 𝘗𝘓𝘈𝘊𝘌 𝘖𝘍 𝘉𝘐𝘙𝘛𝘏: Abilene, Kansas, United States 𝘊𝘜𝘙𝘙𝘌𝘕𝘛 𝘙𝘌𝘚𝘐𝘋𝘌𝘕𝘊𝘌: Abilene, Kansas, United States 𝘎𝘌𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙 & 𝘗𝘙𝘖𝘕𝘖𝘜𝘕𝘚: cis woman, she/her 𝘚𝘌𝘟𝘜𝘈𝘓𝘐𝘛𝘠: bisexual with a preference for women 𝘖𝘊𝘊𝘜𝘗𝘈𝘛𝘐𝘖𝘕: restauranteur 𝘌𝘛𝘏𝘕𝘐𝘊𝘐𝘛𝘠: peruvian and argentinian 𝘍𝘈𝘊𝘌𝘊𝘓𝘈𝘐𝘔: Nathalie Kelley

Ella grew up in what felt like small town hell. She dreamt of being anywhere but here. She couldn't understand why her grandparents moved all the way from a place of paradise (hello ocean, hello Amazon Rainforest?!), to a flat, landlocked nightmare.

That being said, she took off as soon as she could to travel the world. She'd been saving every cent she'd ever made in her parent's little convenience shop since she was a kid, and every cent she'd made in retail as a teenager. It added up pretty nicely, and there was nothing her parents could to stop her.

She didn't make it very far, however. She quickly learned that she was terrified of the ocean even when all she had to do was fly over it, and the heat didn't agree with her.

Next attempt was to simply move away. By 21, she was settling down in Wichita, Kansas. She had her heart broken way too many times, worked a job that killed her mind even more than her feet, but the final straw that broke her back and got her back to her hometown was having her little apartment robbed. She was just lucky enough that with everything missing, her feline companion who'd escaped during the burglary, came back.

Returning home was like a breath of fresh air. It was small, it was run down, but the sun seems like it's always shining and everyone smiles as they pass you. For once, it didn't seem like small town hell, but rather that feeling in your chest when you come home after a long day of work to cozy up in your own space.

While she felt more at place here, she still didn't feel like she know who she was, what she wanted out of life. Then, her grandmother passed. All she could think about was her memories with the woman she was named after; cooking, baking, sitting on the porch and talking about literally anything she felt like. She couldn't cook anymore without crying, feeling sorrow for the person she'd lost. But then, practically hearing her grandmother's scolding voice in her head, she knew it was doing her no good.

That's when she decided cooking shouldn't make her feel sad, but happy. It should serve her well to feed herself and others, and keep her grandmother alive in this way. It clicked. She knew what she wanted to do.

So, she used the rest of her savings (which she's always been good at), and opened Lugar de Rose in honor of her grandparents.

[sapphiques]

i saw the aces in your tags and it physically pains me to listen to anything that isn’t Under My Influence. Could you rank the songs from this album would love to know your thoughts

hi omg, if i remember correctly i had the aces in my tags for one of those rb bait posts AGES ago,, this message didn't show up until recently and only on desktop??? i am so sorry 😭 HOWEVER i am always down to talk abt the aces and coincidentally i saw them in concert this past weekend and they were fucking!!!! incredible!!!! and so very gay!!!!! i'll put it under a cut bc this ended up being long as hell LMAO

1. cruel - honestly i could listen to this song for the rest of my mfing life….like the yearning and the beat and the SHE LOOKS JUST LIKE MEEEEE….i’m sent into another plane of existence every time

2. i can break your heart too - i love the guitar in this one SOOOO much i want to live in the way this song makes me feel

3. daydream - this song is so summer drives and wind in your hair and i love her dearly

4. thought of you - where do i start w this song….like i can’t stop thinking about you but i can’t find you…..so i’ll keep dreaming about you…..and your sweet love……..GAWD

5. kelly - i believe in ‘wlw songs titled w the girl’s name’ supremacy (seeing this song live…an out of body experience truly)

6. can you do - something about this entire song scratches an itch in the back of my brain……yeah

7. lost angeles - i feel like they just captured the feeling of having bittersweet memories associated with a place because of a person you miss/who has hurt you....also she's a BOP

8. my phone is trying to kill me - this one is just so fun!!!!! i want to smash some shit w a baseball bat to this song ya know!!!!!!

9. new emotion - i love a good friends to lovers plot plus this song reminds me of their first album <3 it just has the same vibe

10. not enough - #relatable content and it’s another track that scratches an itch in my brain AND this song hits sooo different live like i was screaming the bridge at the top of my lungs bro

11. zillionaire - this song is so so cute my future gf is going to be sick of this song

12. going home - this song just,, makes me want love </3

13. 801 - respectfully i would like to make out w someone to this song like i KNOW it’s about their homophobic midwestern hometown but the melody is just so……sensual……i’m going to hell for this

14. all mean nothing - when i have an ex to be bitter about i know this will be my SHIT but for now i enjoy the bass

this is honestly like. one of thee top 5 no skips albums of this year for me and i would love to know your thoughts too bestie!!!!!

[muertawrites]

The Alchemist's Daughter - Excerpt

Author's Note: howdy, pardners. i have been feeling absolutely shite lately and the most i've written in the past week is like a page of some fanfic so i figured i'd post the first section of an original novella i'm working on bc maybe it would make me feel less shite about having done nothing with my life thus far?? idk i've started pms-ing like two weeks before i actually get my period and it makes everything borderline impossible. enjoy.

The call came a week after Clair was buried. Late in the morning, when Liliana was clearing the trays from her father’s lunch that he'd barely touched, the phone in the foyer rang out, breaking the stillness that hung in the modest townhouse in the days since its matriarch’s death. Liliana answered without hesitation, her greeting deadpanned as she numbly awaited the condolences of another person her mother hadn't seen or spoken to in years, who she herself had never met or even heard of. Instead, the man on the other end of the line asked for her.

“Liliana Casal,” he spat in a gruff, impatient voice when she responded with confusion. “Daughter of Clair Casal, formerly Warren. That's you, isn't it?”

She could hardly answer. In her twenty-seven years of living beside the woman, she'd never considered that her mother had ever had another name; hearing it, she was dumbstruck.

“Warren,” Liliana repeated airily. “My mother's name was Warren?”

“In a past life it was,” quipped the voice from its unknown origin. “I’ve just received a copy of her death certificate from the City of Ancora population office. Per your mother’s instructions, I’m calling you to pass over her estate.”

“Wait a minute, her estate?”

The words snapped Liliana back into being.

“My father is still living,” she explained to her mysterious caller. “Everything that could be a part of my mother’s estate is still under his care.”

“Everything that’s part of her urban estate,” the man corrected. “I'm her solicitor in Lord’s Glen - her hometown.”

“My mother was born in the city,” Liliana contested without thought. “She never talked about living anywhere else but here. Who… What did you say your name was?”

“Lawrence Beckham, attorney at law,” the man answered shortly. “Your mother was born here in Lord’s Glen sixty-two years ago. I was her father’s solicitor and then her brother’s, and I've been hers since he died and left all the Warren family’s property and land to her. Now it's been left to you.”

Liliana stretched the phone cable as far as she could, pulling it to the foot of the stairs and lowering herself onto them, the fingers of her free hand gripping the banister for support. This couldn't be right. Clair Casal of Ancora was her mother, while Clair Warren of Lord’s Glen was a stranger; certainly they couldn't be the same person.

“Are you… sure?” she sputtered. “My mother would have told me. My father would have known.”

“Lorenzo does know,” Mr. Beckham elaborated, “but for your mother’s sake, they never spoke about it. Clair hoped you'd find this out years from now, after she and your father were both dead, but fate never agrees with what we want for ourselves. You can take all the time you need - eventually you'll have to come out here to the Glen and settle your family’s affairs.”

Liliana paused, staring blankly across the foyer, its vibrant green and blue and golden hues fading into monochrome as she considered the mystery this man had just laid out before her. Her mother was a different woman than the one she'd known all her life - a woman with a rural hometown and property tied to what remained of whoever that woman was. Liliana wondered briefly if she could go on never knowing that woman.

“Give me two days,” she finally answered. “I’ll think about it. If I decide I don't want it, pass it on to the next person in the will.”

“You're the last person, dearie,” Mr. Beckham grunted. “And you don't even know what you'd be giving up. It's good land. From what I understand, you could really use it.”

“Land I didn't know existed until three minutes ago,” Liliana retorted. “Sell it then if I decide I don't want it. We can split whatever it's worth to cover your fees for doing so.”

Mr. Beckham chuckled; the sound grated against Liliana’s skull and made her all the more annoyed with him; with her mother's death and everything that was slowly dying with her. She fought the desire to tell him to fuck himself.

“You really are your mother’s kid,” he noted. “Two days - if I don't hear from you by then, I'll call and work out the details of offloading the estate. Have a good day, Ms. Casal.”

The line went dead before Liliana could say any more. Perturbed, she kept the phone off its hook, leaving it on the step as she drifted from the room.