#had a ramble and rant to get out this morning whoops
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honestly after seeing everything, from films to annotated books, say 1. him getting a "wicked desire" out of the sisters is Repression, or fear of dominant women, or it was hot and he'd enjoy it 2. him not recording what happened between him and Dracula the last night is him "hiding a homosexual affair" 3. him being unable to wake up to save Mina makes him a cuckold and "demoted" by the forbidden object of mina's desire... It's nice to see all three instances when he got assaulted (because 3rd Oct was an assault on him too dammit) being treated seriously, instead of turned into jokes or infidelity Actually.
I joke a lot about subjecting poor Jonathan to assorted horrors, but the truth of it is that while I do like throwing new twists and terrors his way, this guy was already very much subject to a wide array of nightmares and traumas that the rest of the cast never experiences, and for far longer. This obviously isn't to belittle the brisker and more immediately vicious attacks Dracula inflicts on, say, Lucy and Mina, but those same threats--exsanguination, death, undeath, automatic enslavement/entrapment--were all still very much intended for Jonathan on top of the rest of his two month marathon of psychological torture.
And you're right. The latter is never, ever brought up in Dracula media other than Dracula itself. Certainly never with any kind of dignity, honesty, or acknowledgment of the horror involved. Part of the reason I write Mr. Harker into so many miserable corners--corners that, some have pointed out, he's only trapped in by dint of the Villain of the Moment taking a covetous interest in him, be it for his weird strengths or his charm or both--is to highlight the fact that he is a damsel in distress. One who is consistently targeted because he appeals to the monster(s).
Jonathan Harker is a good, sweet, strong, intriguing, desirable character.
Jonathan Harker is a victim of unwanted amorous and/or literally bloodthirsty attention from multiple aggressors.
Jonathan Harker is a traumatized individual who, regardless of what sequels or spinoffs try to twist in otherwise, spent months having his mind dragged over broken glass as he tried to juggle trying to get help, trying to escape, trying not to anger the undead horror keeping him prisoner, trying not to get magically coerced into laying back and letting the sexual predator-coded vampires take turns drinking from him or worse, trying at the very end of his rope to attack the monster only to get parried by yet another surprise superpower and the cheat of arriving minions and elements to conspire against him, trying, trying, trying everything he could think of to Not Be in This Hell, only to ultimately gamble himself on a cliff fall or death in the wilderness rather than stay another minute in that stone box of nightmares and undead eternity with the Weird Sisters.
Jonathan Harker has all this inflicted on him because, like Lucy, like Mina, he was wanted too much. And, like them, he did not want any of it.
Jonathan Harker is not weak for that.
No narrative that tries to warp him into either a quailingly repressed hater of powerful women, or secretly willing cheater with the Brides or Dracula, or any other copout to make it seem like a softer, ignorable, unctuous little footnote in someone else's liberating vampire fetish take on Dracula in which he is unceremoniously booted aside for Mina and the Count's ribald affair which is automatically a better thing than Jonathan daring to have such with the Brides or Dracula has any merit to it. Period. But the infuriating fact is, yeah. The latter are an overwhelming majority in films, shows, and books.
So I feel no shame whatsoever in being as indulgent as possible in my portrayal of Jonathan as the first and most long-term damaged victim of the Count; the only victim in the book who was not one of Dracula's idle afterthoughts, but a meticulous and coveted project. His pain and his appeal are both overdue a spotlight by over a century. So it's all going into whatever I write with him.
#had a ramble and rant to get out this morning whoops#I have Thoughts and I have Feelings about Mr. Jonathan Harker can you tell#jonathan harker#dracula#penclosa#my writing
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Hiy~ =)
So, I'd like to send you a ⭐free pass to rant⭐. Also... I'm going to admit that I haven't read anything of only yours. Although your stories were recommended to me (I think we can guess by whom?), it fell onto the list of things I truly meant to do but never found time for.
But I remember hearing some wonderful things about your "Prompt-ly Yours" series, so I'd like to ask you about that one~ 🌈🌠
Not me looking around like mad, all “omg! Someone’s asking! Act normal! Act NORMAL!”
Ok, ok, ok.
I’ll do the Prompt-ly Yours, then a free for all. (Oh no, I can already feel myself getting ready for a ramble…)
So Prompt-ly Yours was my return to writing and my return to fan fiction. And mostly importantly, the first story in forever (possibly ever!) that actually had an ending. I’d been dancing around with the idea of McCoy and Scotty in a story, but never quite hit on what until I saw a list of sentences prompts and really the first five or six on the list felt like they told a story on their own. Then it became a challenge to myself to write something coherent and use all 100(!) sentence prompts on the list.
And I managed it! And it made sense! And, most of all, coming back to writing made me happy!!
Ok, so little things about it. Dr. Barrolds is named for a joke between hubs and I, in hopes he would read it that far and get a laugh (he didn’t.) One of my favorite moments in the story is probably when they tell each other they love each other the first time. Another fave is the last scene when Scotty ruins the moment interrupting McCoy, but was about to do the same thing. And, poor Chekov, but when he and Sulu get an earful and have to share breakfast with Scones the next morning. Chekov’s extreme reluctance to look at them, McCoy and Sulu’s joint embarrassment and Scotty’s total nonchalance kill me every time.
And free pass!
Boaty McBoatstory was a placeholder name that stuck. It also contains another joke for hubs that he’s never read.
A Home with a Hearth was originally going to be a stand alone, and then as I began thinking and plotting out Wherever You Are, I Am, I realized it fit as part of the Prompt-verse and I’m honestly looking forward to when I get to where it fits in.
I was super nervous when I wrote Forgiveness, and it wasn’t honestly going to be a smut when I started it! But then one thing led to another and well 🤷🏻♀️ Would I write another? Maybe. If people were interested but I don’t know if I could do as good a job. I kind of prefer bringing the stories right up to the moment and letting the reader picture what happens.
Cor Lapideum is probably a lot cheesy, but I gave it all my sweetness.
One Bourbon, One Scotch, One Temporal Anomaly is entirely because I wanted aos McCoy to be surprised by tos McCoy saying the line “you’ve haven’t married’em yet?”
A lot of my stories circle around one dumb idea lol.
Prior to writing Scones stories, an old high school friend and I (in hs) wrote a pair of back to back tales where we walked through some kind of portal and ended up in Star Wars (she wrote it. She was Luke and I was Han. Genderbent too.) The second story sent us to Lord of the Rings as Frodo (me) and Aragorn (her.) Mark Hamill made an appearance stealing our gray portal home. The series was supposed to continue into the Thrawn trilogy and the Hobbit, but we got lazy. (And busy! Jobs and school!)
My next big fandom story (don’t laugh!) was Monty Python adjacent about a girl who somehow goes back in time to 1968 and gets a job at the BBC for a mad genius writer. The characters were all original, but based of the different pythons. Russell Andrews and Ruby Fontana, my dearest, beloved OCs.
Ok…. I probably wrote waaaay more than necessary. Whoops. Anyone wants to know more feel free to ask. Maybe someday I might even post some Ruby Fontana if anyone’s interested (It’s cool if not.)
Thank you for the ask @l0vel3ss-l1nds3y 💙❤️❤️💙❤️💙
#slice of life#my writing#someone let me ramble on and on and on#too much ramble?#not sorry#talking about writing??#yes please!!
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I’LL CRAWL HOME TO YOU
A Hizzie fanfiction / update
Pairing: Hope Mikaelson/Lizzie Saltzman Fandom: Legacies Rating: M Chapters: 2/? Summary: In many ways, meeting Hope in a different reality had helped Lizzie put things in perspective, and perhaps even understand her in ways she hadn’t before. Understand them, their connection, the palpable animosity that had turned into a reluctant friendship and now something far more tangible. The rest, well, she doesn’t tell Josie. Not about waking up after three weeks away from her real home, tucked under the covers of Hope’s bed with their clothes discarded around the dormitory, with a light sheen of sweat on her forehead and her hair sticking to her cheekbones. There were some things better left unsaid. (Upon her return from an alternate timeline a Malivore monster teleported her to, Lizzie must deal with the aftermath of her time spent away, and her newly doormat feelings for Hope Mikaelson.)
chapter 1 here
READ CH. 2 HERE ON AO3 or under the read more
[ 3 WEEKS AGO ]
A muddy splash sends speckles of murky water coating a pair of white boots. Under the full moon, an owl hoots, as Lizzie Saltzman breaks through the branches that leave a bloody mark on her left cheek. She reaches for it, with a mumbled expletive as her breathing grows heavier and her knees start to give. Behind her, a black wolf with yellow tinted eyes that shine through the darkness of the woods gives chase, snarling as it draws closer to her.
She’s been sprinting for a while; Lizzie’s exhausted, pushing past the burn on her thighs as she rounds a corner and leaps over a log dangerously set on the ground, almost losing her balance as her boot skids through the mud. Its drizzling, her clothes are weighing her down, her hair is ruined – if she had the mind to complain about the other terrible but insignificant, personal circumstances, she’d be holding an ice pack to her cheek and ranting over a Strawberry Smoothie. Instead, she finds herself here, in the outskirts of the woods in Mystic Falls, barely managing to get on her feet before the wolf catches up to her.
“Lecutio!” She’s all out of magic after –– the ball of energy flies ahead of the wolf and crashes against the tree behind it, effectively snapping off the branches and watching as they fall near the wolf long enough to distract it. It wasn’t her intention, really – she was aiming for it’s head. Soon enough, the wolf turns it’s head (and it’s disorienting eyes) in her direction, growling.
“Crap…” And she takes off again, her boots splash, splash, splashing rapidly on the wet floor. This is not how she pictured spending a Sunday night.
Her lungs are giving out, her body begs her to stop running; she might pass out from exhaustion alone, and her vision – on top of that – blurs as the light drizzle of rain washes over her face. She wipes it away with the palm of her hand, but it obstructs her already impaired vision in the dark, and trips over a boulder on the ground. Lizzie groans, her body rolling through the mud, and the wolf slows it’s approach. She’s cornered. She’s screwed. She’s dead.
The wolf stalks forward. Lizzie raises her hands to her face, and it launches itself through the air.
Lizzie screams, anticipating the powerful impact, the bite, but instead another wolf collides in the air with her attacker. White, with speckles of grey. They roll around in the mud, snarling at each other, growling, taking bites anywhere their teeth can sink into until they’re both back on their feet. Lizzie watches, covering her mouth as she gasps, pushing herself back until her shoulders meet one of the trees behind her.
Then, the white wolf attacks the black one again. They begin their vicious snarling, and as Lizzie finds the force to pick herself off the ground, she hears one of them whimper. When she looks back, the black wolf is retreating, disappearing through the trees, and the white one turns, even slower in its approach. Lizzie’s eyes widen, out of magic, and out of breath, but she turns around in an attempt to try and run away again.
Except she spins out, when she feels her black hoodie being yanked away from her body, leaving her in a tank top under the rain that starts to pick up. She turns around angrily, but instead of finding a white wolf stalking back, she finds –
“Hope?”
Hope is sporting her too-big-for-her hoodie over her naked body and watching her with her arms crossed over her chest. It covers just enough. Not everything. Just enough.
“Oh, thank God!” Lizzie exclaims, throwing her arms around Hope in sweet, sweet relief as she tries to catch her breath. “I thought I was dead. Dead, dead.”
But she knows Hope Mikaelson. Always coming through with her last minute heroics.
Except this time, Hope pushes her away, hands on her shoulders, taking a step back to get a good look at her. They look at each other, almost comically; Hope with an eyebrow quirked and Lizzie, with her mouth agape. Then, Hope’s strange behavior is perfectly clear –
“Who the hell are you?”
------
[ PRESENT DAY ]
“Lizzie!”
Hope’s tired voice carries down the hallway. Behind her, Lizzie can hear her footsteps approaching – faster, faster – until they stop at her side, walking in tandem with her into the vast, otherwise dusty library at the end of the hall, where students gather quietly over a pile of books raging from anything about the occult to the mundane – European History and an old, thick Gaelic book about Magical Portals that thuds on the ground as it falls sloppily from the top of the bookshelf and almost takes Lizzie out. Talk about head trauma.
“Hey, watch it!” Lizzie looks up as dust gathers below her. Alyssa Chang stands on the top of the rolling ladder, shrugging nonchalantly. Whoops.
Lizzie picks up the book, coughs, swatting the dust away and piling it on top of Hope’s already busy hands. Hope says nothing, only blinks away the speckles of dust as she trails behind Lizzie with concern.
“I haven’t seen you all day. Is everything okay?”
She shouldn’t be taken aback, but she is, by the genuine worried inflection in Hope Mikaelson’s voice. Hope is tired, the evidence marked clearly on her face, vaguely darkened circles under her eyes that Hope barely had mind to conceal this morning with even the smallest layer of makeup. No one would be able to tell, not really, but Lizzie can. She knows that look Hope carries around like a weight on her back when something’s been keeping her up at night.
In front of the tinted window sill, Lizzie turns. The yellow light reflects off Hope’s exhausted, blue eyes, and Lizzie almost stutters, opting to instead, snatch the book back from the pile already gathered on Hope’s arms and toss it onto the nearest unoccupied table.
No, Hope. I’ve been avoiding you all morning until this very unfortunate meeting where we’ll be subjected to a torturous hour of incessant nerd rambling on how to kill the very same monster that sent me through a hell portal into another dimension where I hooked up with you and your unforgettable muscles and now I can’t even look at you in the eyes without thinking about it, so–
“I’m fine”. Lizzie says, saccharine sweet. Too sweet. Enough to make Hope suspicious, as she looks at the book Lizzie tossed on the table with an eyebrow raised. “I was having a perfectly fine morning until MG interrupted my strictly scheduled morning meditation and after reluctantly agreeing to meet here in exactly five minutes, the kitchen was out of Belgian Waffles, so I had to settle for a non-fat Greek yogurt. So yes, I’ve been severely inconvenienced, but it has nothing to do with you”.
“I never said it has –” Hope starts. “Shouldn’t we talk about it? About what happened…”
Lizzie stiffens.
“With the monster…”
She deflates.
“We still don’t know if there are any side effects to any of this. Doctor Saltzman said you refused to talk to Emma about what happened –”
“And now you’re giving me advice about what I should and shouldn’t talk to our school therapist about?” Lizzie scoffs, on the defensive, arms crossed tightly over her chest. “That’s rich, Hope”.
“That’s not what I meant –”
“Everyone at this school is so prolific at internalizing every shitty thing that happens to us on a weekly basis but since this one particular thing happened to me, then of course I’m the one who has to have the damage control, witchy therapy sessions with Emma despite the fact that I’ve already told everyone who’s asked that I’m fine!”
“Lizzie –”
“Is that why you were looking for me this morning? You wanted to check up on me?”
“Yes”. Hope says sincerely. Its her version of an olive branch – honesty. Lizze frowns, but Hope touches her wrist and she stays frozen in place, like she’s been jolted and immobilized by an invisible force. “The same night you found your way back to us you rushed into the woods on a near suicide mission to help me fight a monster we’re still not sure how to kill. Of course I wanted to check up on you. I was worried. You left my bedroom so suddenly last night that I didn’t even have time to ask how you were feeling. I wasn’t sure if you were ever going to come back. I wasn’t sure if we were ever going to see you again.”
Lizzie takes a breath, defeated. We, we, we – she has no right to be stung by the plurality of the word, but it gives her that feeling in the middle of her throat, like it runs dry, like one wrong word from Hope and she might break down in tears.
“I want to make sure you’re okay”. Hope continues. “You’re my best friend”.
And that’s the tragedy of it. She’s Hope’s best friend. Anything beyond that is nothing but something she could only clearly wish for in another timeline. One where Hope doesn’t know about her baggage, one where they got a clean slate to restart their history, no rumors, no backhanded comments…
“Me too”. Lizzie whispers. She brings her thumb up to brush over the side of Hope’s hand.
She thinks about holding it. She almost does, until –
“Yo, guys. We should get this show on the road”. Jed interjects, seemingly out of nowhere, picking up the book Lizzie had discarded on the table earlier and hopping over the banister towards the center table in the now empty library, where the rest of the squad has now gathered around one of Wade’s Dungeons and Dragons books.
By the time Lizzie pulls her hand back and they both gather around the table, Wade’s already settled in with the group.
“– That’s the thing though. Dimensional Warpers don’t usually engage in combat, but they do like learning about their enemies and their battle tactics. They’re not usually ones to initiate but they’ll fight if they sense that their life is in danger.”
“That explains why it disappeared last night and didn’t come back”. Hope pushes her way in between MG and Jed at the front and center of the table. “Do you think it’s after something?”
“Maybe. I can’t imagine another reason why Malivore would’ve spit that particular monster out. They’re elusive, hard to kill, and they only come out at night. Their night vision is impeccable”.
“How do we kill it?”
“Well, they are giant, bipedal, flying snakes, but they’re still snakes. I think we all know what the easiest way to kill one is –”
“Cut off it’s head”. Lizzie deadpans. Everyone turns, and Lizzie stands on the other side of the table, looking intently at the picture of the creature on Wade’s book.
And Hope, looking at the magical artifacts on the far side display, slumps her shoulders.
“We’re gonna need a very big sword”.
------
[ 3 WEEKS AGO ]
“Is your name Lizzie Saltzman?”
“Yes”. Between two slender and shaky hands, an orb flashes blue.
Across the antique, expensive looking desk in front of her, and a family portrait in the space where a tinted window used to sit, Klaus Mikaelson looks at Hope with concern and curiosity. Hope, looking taller and prouder as her hand rests upon Klaus’ leather chair, gives him a side eye.
She remembers Klaus from when she was younger, just as intimidating and commanding as he had been the day he’d sought out their help to save Hope from the Hollow all those years ago. She also remembers the Klaus she’s read about, in the books tucked away in the very same library a couple of doors down the hallway; the tales about The Great Evil. The boogeyman to end them all. The man who had terrorized Mystic Falls and claimed New Orleans like a dynasty, the man who had courted her mother until the day he died — but she also remembers the Klaus Mikaelson that Hope had told her about. The father. The man weighed down by the consequences of his choices and the drive to ensure his family’s survival, their safety, no matter the cost. In one universe, it had already cost him his life. In this one, the story seems to have been painted differently.
In this story, Hope is different. She’s prouder, she wears a scowl like armor but not with the purpose of pushing everyone away. This Hope reminds her of an heiress. Someone destined to inherit something bigger and greater than herself. Maybe it’s all this, Lizzie thinks. The Mikaelson School. Maybe it’s another kingdom entirely.
She looks… Good. Really good.
“Are you Alaric Saltzman’s daughter?” Hope continues.
“Yes”. Blue again.
“That doesn’t make any sense”. Klaus moves to take the orb from her hands, but Hope is faster — much faster — grabs his father’s arm before he can snatch it.
“Dad, you can’t fool the magical lie detector. They’re simple yeses or no's”.
Klaus respects her, she can tell, because he backs off and opens a drawer in his desk, takes out a heavy looking file — and pulls out a picture of her dad. He puts it in front of her.
“This man is your father?” He asks her again.
“Yes”.
And like clockwork, the orb shines blue again.
“That doesn’t make any sense —” Lizzie goes to interject but Klaus holds his finger up, standing from his chair with his hands behind his back, circling around the office like a man with a decision to make. Technically he is… a man with a decision to make. About her.
Which really, really gives her the chills. The bad kind.
“— You see, Alaric is a slobber of a drunk man who unfortunately lost his wife on his wedding day. He was supposed to father two children, twins actually, and his psychopathic to-be brother-in-law murdered his fiancé at the altar. His daughters perished with her. He lost his Tenure at Mystic Falls High, now teaches a second-rate-history class at a local college, and he let the rest of his dreams die in the bottom of a bottle of stale whiskey and fatty liver disease. That man never got to father any children. He’s barely a man at all. No purpose. No drive”.
“Apparently not in this life —” Lizzie mutters. The orb flashes blue and Hope’s eyes immediately snap to Lizzie’s.
“What is that supposed to mean?” She’s the one taking the orb from her hands in a blink of an eye. She’s fast. Really fast. It takes her a second to realize, as Hope holds it between her fingertips and looks at her with blind distrust, that the Hope in this universe might not be jaded by the loss of her family, but this one might be jaded by something else.
Like her own death.
Oh.
“You’re gonna want to sit down for this one”.
------
The Mikaelson School library is even bigger than The Salvatore School’s. The Stallions were branded as the rich, spoiled, and troubled children of Mystic Falls, but the Mikaelson school rivals the self-made stereotype by a tenfold. Lizzie’s staring at a row of books about magic she could have only ever dreamed of reading — it’s obvious to her that Klaus Mikaelson’s vision for a school for the Supernatural was slightly different than her father’s. Somewhere witches, vampires, werewolves and others could live their powers to their full potential.
She picks a book from the rack, takes another one down with it, but Hope catches it before it can fully fall off the shelf — Necromancy: The Art of the Undead — and pushes it back in its place.
“If what you told me is true then your father built a school with the same purpose my father did”. She offers. This Hope, now a little less guarded and lit by the light of the full moon by the library window, is much softer, willing to momentarily let her guard down around the pretty stranger with the wavy blonde hair. “He wanted a place where I felt like I belonged. Somewhere he could offer a safe haven not only for me, but for all the witches, all the vampires, and all the werewolves who are forced to do all of this all on their own. The world is cruel and unrepentant. My dad knows that. So he and my mom bought this mansion, expanded it, and made it into a school for the Supernatural. It’s taken off since; we have a branch in Belgium and another one in development in South America. Argentina. Something about the wine…”
For the first time since she’d been blindly dropped into this dimension, Lizzie smiles. But after a much noticeable glance at Lizzie’s lips, Hope continues. “We thought all the Gemini witches were dead. They’re rare. Powerful —” Hope says. It takes a second for Lizzie to notice she’s sizing her down.
She doesn’t want to talk about how that makes her feel.
“You have to take someone’s magic to use it, right?”
And Hope offers her hand. Lizzie’s brows furrow, but she takes it anyway. She’s siphoned magic from Hope before, but not a fully triggered Tribrid Hope. When she drains her power Lizzie feels an adrenaline rush like no other, like sticking her hand directly into a fuse box and taking all the energy in Mystic Falls with it. She watches Hope carefully for any sign of pain, but Hope doesn’t flinch. She doesn’t move, only watches their joined hands.
Then Lizzie raises her wrist, flicks it, and closes all the doors of The Mikaelson school in simultaneous fashion, making the building tremble.
“Something like that”. Lizzie grins and Hope lets her hand go. She’s grinning back and Lizzie doesn’t know why that makes her feel drunker than taking all that power from her. “The stronger the source the stronger and the magic we can do, but we can take from anything that’s come in contact with magic. This building, for example. A vampire, a werewolf — miscellaneous…”
“Well, here at the Mikaelson school we’re always looking for other powerful witches. I know you want to go back home eventually, once we figure out how to send you back, but if you want to stay, we can make room for you.”
They walk past the archway, to a display case with magical artifacts and weapons of all kinds. Some she recognizes, like the dagger that had started it all that brutally eventful day when Rafael joined the school, the urn, an enchanted compass, Papa Tunde’s blade…
“We’ve collected those over the years”. Hope motions to the display case. “Some of them were already in my dad’s possession before we put them here. The display case was enchanted by my aunt, so it’s practically impenetrable and impossible to open unless you’re a Mikaelson, but my mom thinks it’s important to teach these kids everything we can about magic and everything that could hurt them. Some of them —” She continues, sliding her finger over a display case of weapons. “— are just purely decorative though”.
Lizzie watches Hope’s finger land on the glass over a large broadsword.
“What exactly do you know about my family?” Hope asks. When she looks at the display again, Lizzie can see her own reflection next to Hope’s on the glass, and when she looks closer at the weapon, their faces on the side of the broadsword.
“Oh, you have no idea”.
------
[ PRESENT DAY]
Sparks cloud Lizzie’s vision. At the old mill, in the dead of night, Hope sharpens a sword Lizzie thinks is larger than her standing up. She’d poke fun at her, for wielding such a big weapon for such a small person, but if the past few weeks — days — weeks — whatever, had taught her anything, is how immeasurable the power Hope wields at her fingertips is. Maybe she could provide them both with a quip, if she wasn’t so busy staring at her, agape.
God, get it together, Lizzie.
She clears her throat and Hope stops.
“Hey! I thought we could get a head start with this old thing. Your dad kept it downstairs but I think it’ll give us the firepower we need. It’s a shame though, it’d make for a nice decoration”.
Lizzie wants to laugh. No, it would make for an awful piece of decoration. She’d seen it displayed neatly on a case, but ancient artifacts and old swords make her think of ancient cursed castles and the ghosts within them.
“So asks-too-many-questions Hope has now become knight-in-shining-armor Hope. I gotta say, I think I like this version a little bit better”.
“Because I’m not asking questions?” Hope challenges.
“That’s part of it”.
They both laugh, look at each other as Lizzie takes her place beside Hope, until Hope goes stoic again. She puts the blade down, wipes her hands on her dark jeans.
“Lizzie, I know this isn’t by far the most threatening monster we’ve ever faced but, I think you should stay inside the school. Kaleb and I designed a foolproof plan to kill the —”
“Why are you sidelining me?” Lizzie frowns. “I was of perfectly good help last time you almost got sucked into a portal too, remember?”
“That’s not what I meant —”
“Then what do you mean Hope? I know this isn’t about glory. So what is it? Martyrdom? Pushing people who care about you away?”
And Hope is surprisingly calm, despite the tension in Lizzie’s voice, despite the way she raises it, despite the way it cuts through the sound of the chirping crickets in the woods. “No. It’s the opposite, actually. It’s about trying to keep the people I care about safe. I don’t want you to end up somewhere you won’t be able to come back to us if we risk it”.
“What about Kaleb, then? Surely you care about him”.
A beat.
“Not the way I care about you”.
They stand there, in the cold of the Old Mill, looking at each other as Hope picks up the sword on the table, and Lizzie realizes for the first time, Hope is making an entirely selfish decision… And it’s all about her.
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Hey!! Ok so about me ummm i have curly/wavy brown hair, a bit longer than my shoulders, and hazel eyes. My personality, im very talkative but still introverted and i get awkward at events where i dont know a lot of ppl (i still love partying and dancing w friends tho) so i am a fan of my down time that involves either reading, writing, or watching tv. i love talking to people and friends, I’ll always listen if someone needs to vent to me and I love hearing ppl talk about their nerdy sides lol. i also tend to ramble a bit in conversations and im open to sharing a lot of things about myself. I’m also a very honest person who keeps it real with people and is straightforward about how i’m feeling and i like honesty from other ppl as well. I sing in choir and love music, I’m also sort of into theater, I’ve watched a good amount of musicals and LOVE Funny Girl. I read a lot, mostly cheesy romance books like red white and royal blue or to all the boys i loved before. I also love Harry Potter and can talk about that for ages. Feel free to ship me w who you think is best I’ll love anything but if it helps, part of me kins todd bc of his anxiety, i really feel like charlie is my spirit animal at times, i just resonate with his vibe, and i love neil. Thanks!! :)
beth !!!<3 i hope i did justice with this and you like it just as much as the anderperry piece from the other night (; thank you for all you do. here it is:
ship:
going to ship you with the cutest little baby himself, todd anderson. even though you’re very similar in terms of personality, you were juuuust a tad more outgoing than him, which allowed him to open up really well because you showed him how (:
hcs:
neil would love talking theater with you. he’d try to convince you to come tryout for the upcoming play, but when you refused nicely, he took it in stride, just grateful that he was able to geek out with someone about something that meant a lot to him
he’d be so, so supportive of you singing in choir and would always take initiative in planning how he and all the other poets would get to and from your recitals
you and todd would grow together so much in your relationship, moving forward with your social anxieties, and making your bond that much stronger (see: “grow as we go” by ben platt)
you and cameron got on fairly well, mostly he just helped you with any school work you would get confused on (and he always found you cute, but never ever said anything in respect for both you and todd)
consider you and meeks the hugest harry potter geeks in the friend group, charlie giving you guys a hard time about it. but once you lent him your books, he would join the discourse between you and meeks, wanting to know what house he’d be in and talking about hp nonstop
having to encourage todd to trust himself as a person and open up a bit more was a hard task at times, but he’d just watch your example of how honest and comfortable you seemed with yourself, and it got easier as the months went on
sitting in a room with knox, charlie, and neil listening to them rant about how much they didn’t want to follow in their dads’ footsteps, and only giving advice if they asked (they were just thankful that you listened to them)
todd would fully understand and respect your down time/alone time, asking if there was anything you’d need to have a nice afternoon to yourself
even if you didn’t say you needed anything, a new book and a couple of hand-written original poems would find their way onto your desk while you were out (:
charlie always giving you a “hard time” for how you were so quiet in class, but would talk nonstop when it was just you and the poets (“do you want me to not be comfortable around you guys ? because i can make that happen,” you’d say. to which his response [slightly panicked] would be, “no ! of course not, i’m merely making an observation and commenting”
you and todd finding a nook somewhere on campus where you could just sit and read together, enjoying the silence and each other’s company
you and pitts would most certainly have a show that you would binge together; hours at a time. i mean seriously, to the point where meeks would have to check if you guys were still alive after he’d been in a study group all afternoon on the weekends
todd would also love to play with your hair because it was so pretty (i’m sure a description of your looks was utilized in countless poems of his)
blurb:
on the night of one of your choir performances, you had left the poets in the midst of an argument about how todd didn’t want pitts to wear his plaid blazer because todd wanted to wear his, claiming it was “his girlfriend’s performance and wanted to look good,” (which he always did in his plaid blazer and black slacks). neil was worried they’d be late, constantly checking his watch, and charlie was running around messing up cameron’s and pitts’ hair for fun.
by the time they had gotten to the performance hall and seated, the lights were dimming. neil was just glad that they got there on time, and todd was so excited to see you doing something you loved. needless to say, you were the star of the show, and todd’s eyes were gleaming as he watched you (later on he’d tell you that he’d never heard something so pretty come out of someone’s mouth ever). when the performance was over, they would cheer so loud, earning dirty looks from all the preppy parents in attendance. you’d be so excited to see the boys, but todd in particular. after you came out of the stage door, they’d all be waiting, todd holding a bouquet of flowers, and the other boys giving you a humongous round of applause (complete with “whoops”/shouts) and congratulating you on doing such a good job.
“you are amazing, beth,” charlie and neil would say, giving you big hugs. the other boys would agree, and you’d turn to todd who held the bouquet out to you, clearly speechless. he kept starting to say something, but could just give you the most humongous hug ever,
“you are everything,” he’d say quietly just so you could hear. he truly didn’t know how to convey just how much you left him in awe, but when you woke up to a poem about it on your desk the next morning, it meant that much more to have him in your life.
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Prompt #2: 49 and 80
“Take off your shirt. “You owe me.”
When Eddie had decided to take on a renter he’d been prepared for a lot of things. For his new roommates to be someone who was messier than him or who didn’t wash the dishes. He was ready to have awkward conversations and for them to drink all the milk and not buy more.
What he hadn’t expected was Richie. Eddie could never have predicated the loud obnoxious man. Or that he would fall for him, completely and utterly. At first, Eddie was sure that he was going to kill him. They were complete opposites, Richie was a night person and Eddie was a morning one. Eddie was mostly vegan and Richie couldn’t name more than five vegetables. He was shocked that they made it through the first few weeks without suffocating each other with their pillows.
But then, between movies and going grocery shopping together, they’d become friends. Good friends. Richie was funny- funnier than Eddie wanted to give him credit for- and Richie seemed to enjoy Eddie’s rants. Once they were friends it took Eddie only a little while longer to realize that he wished they were more than that.
Not that he’d ever act on it. He was Richie’s landlord, even if they shared his small condo. Plus, he’d met some of Richie’s one or two night stands, the ones who left before coffee was even started. He knew that he wasn’t Richie’s type. He’d made peace with the idea of being Richie’s friend and nothing more.
Mostly.
“Eds! Are you home?” Richie yelled. It startled him. He was in his room, trying to get some yoga in after work and Richie’s words nearly made him fall.
“Yes!” He called back, unwinding himself from his position and flipping off his music.
“Can you help me?”
Oh no, Eddie thought. Last time Richie needed help he’d somehow managed to get his hand stuck in the ice machine. He wiped his face then went to the living room, where he saw an unhappy Richie surrounded by what looked like a small, flour-centric explosion.
“What the-”
“I know! I know, I just- I fucked up. My shirt is ruined.” Richie looked down at one of his hideous Hawaiian shirts- his favorite if Eddie remembered correctly. It had a huge glob of honey on it and something that looked like cocoa rubbed in it. He looked so miserable that Eddie’s anger drained from him. He was used to Richie’s kitchen experiments by now, though usually he stayed away until all the cleaning was done. Richie was a decent cook, mostly because of his raw enthusiasm and willingness to throw himself into it, sometimes literally.
“Take off your shirt.” Eddie said, holding a hand out.
“Well now Spaghetti, I do declare. Take me out to dinner first!” Richie trilled, fluttering his eyelashes and putting a hand to his chest. It came away covered in honey.
“I’ll soak it for you you idiot. I can get the stains out.”
“My hero.” Richie shrugged the shirt off, leaving him in only a tank top. Eddie disappeared to put it in water and treat the stain.
When he came back Richie was still in the kitchen, furiously mixing something. He looked up when Eddie entered. “Will she live? Give it to me straight Doc.”
“She’ll live.”
Richie whooped, running over and picking Eddie up. “You little miracle worker! You’re amazing!”
“Yea yea, you owe me. No one can stain a shirt quite like you.” Eddie said, laughing as Richie spun him before putting him back down, rambling on about how Eddie made Mr. Clean look like Mr. Not-so-Clean. He hoped he didn’t imagine how Richie hung onto him for a second too long.
When they stepped back Eddie looked at what he’d been making. “Hot date tonight?” He asked, seeing a small cake cooling on the counter and other ingredients being prepped. “I can make myself scarce.” It was easier if Eddie wasn’t there for Richie’s wooings. He knew the drill, fancy dinner followed by slow dancing and then disappearing into the bedroom. As much as he tried to ignore it he could never fully block it out.
“Something like that.” Richie grinned. “It was supposed to be a surprise but-” He did some small jazz hands. “It’s for you. It’s our anniversary.”
His eyes snapped to Richie’s and Eddie frowned. “Our what?”
“It’s been six months since I moved in. I wanted to do something to celebrate. I was so sure I’d end up in some 300 square foot shithole and instead I’m here, with you.” Richie shrugged. “I wanted to thank you.”
It took Eddie a few seconds to respond. His mouth had gone dry. No one had ever cooked for him. Looking again he saw that it was all of his favorite foods. He didn’t know Richie listened so well.
“Well, I- thanks. I didn’t get you anything.” He was confused by all this, by Richie pulling out all the stops for him. It was a sweet gesture but the way Richie was looking at him- and the lengths he had gone through- it felt like this meant more. Eddie shook his head, refusing to let himself go down that path.
“You’re always doing shit for me.” Richie bopped his nose. “Let me do this. But you will need to shower, those shorts, while sexy, are not dinner appropriate.” Eddie fought a blush as he felt Richie’s eyes on his legs.
“I’ll just- go then.” Eddie said, resisting the urge to pull the hem down. “And thanks? For making dinner.”
“Anything for you Eds.”
@spastuetheobsessedphylosopher @chaotickaspbrak @wheezyeds @constantreaderfool @purplepoisonedgem @queen-sock @pink-psychic @bowersgangvslosersclub @jem-carstairs-is-perfection @reddie-to-cryy @moonlightrichie @eduardoandale @anellope @inthebreadbinwrites @sparklingrainbowdragon @madi-personal @lifesucksheres20bucks @appojoos-deactivated20200112 @upsidedownlosers @thorn-harvester-ven @eddiefuckinkaspbrak @andaleduardo @xandertheundead @state-of-longing @fandomgirllover @adhdtrashmouth @rielysian @uppperteeeth @s-s-georgie @for-peanutbutter @edstozler @s-onora @notmyspaghetti @twoidiotsinl0ve @spirited-marvel @lover-mouth @roobarrtrashmouth @njess04 @wilding-throught-thehallways @gloire-celeste @stansbooty @reddieobsessed @myeverythingisyourstruly @onlykatelyn @no-she-wasnt-reddie @isabelleritma @gczebos @ransonelovebot @kasp-brakz @animalfacts @vipphil @sourmoist @reddie4diaster @playing-jim @twistedrainbows8908 @princesass-theresa @theandrewhurley @littledancersun @fourtccn @quenchyourhonor @mimiharu @kaspbrak-tozier-reddie @hushfakeomens @notyourmom90 @nancynwheeler @elphiegoescraycray @finelinedwalls @call-me-bread @ultrapaninibred @chaoticeddie @nerdsarebetter @rebecca-the-queen @ticomat @icecreamcatt @juhavs @kaspbrak-king @eddiebearkaspbrak @trashmouthtozierr @lumiereandcogsworth @matuk-art superwholock-padawan-trekkie @photoboothreddie
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WIP Playlist tag
Thank you so much @kittensartswriting for the tag! I had hoped to get to this morning, but ended up running out on some errands with my roommate instead. My whole plan for the day was severely skewed, but hey I made it here eventually anyway!
Rules: list five songs that most encapsulate your wip/the most essential songs on your wip playlist.
I will admit I don't actually keep playlists for my wips, but I do have quite a few songs that make me think of The Corvine or some of the characters in it. And I have a tendency to ramble so my explanations of why are more detailed than they need to be, whoops.
I'll put the explanations (and links to the songs) under a cut, but here are the first songs to come to mind: Factory Girl - Kronos Quartet & Rhiannon Gidden, I Will Never Die - Delta Rae, Arsonist's Lullaby - Hozier, Riverside - Agnes Obel, Wanderer's Lullaby - Adriana Figueroa, and so so many songs by Cosmo Sheldrake.
Factory Girl - Kronos Quartet with Rhiannon Gidden
This song perfectly encapsulates the vibe of The Corvine both in how it sounds (the sombre, tense but hopeful and beautiful sound of the strings? so good and it feels like such an old song) and in the lyrics. Like the girl they describe is Cambridge to a T, and the factory burning down... the lyrics of the last two verses fit this story so completely that I've actually made an edit about it before
I Will Never Die - Delta Rae
"Spread my spirit like a flock of crows"... The vibes of this song, the determination... knowing that no matter what happens you'll be alive in the love of your closest connections. Again, an older sound. The fire, the willingness to burn the world down if that's what it took. This is all my kids and the love they carry for each other. But especially Avenir (she has fire powers and trauma around fire from when she was younger. She knows "the old heat of the raging fire" very well). I could ramble about this song in relation to my characters forever.
Arsonist's Lullaby - Hozier
If we're gonna talk about fire, we should talk about this song and how it fits Avenir. "But my peace has always depended/ On all the ashes in my wake"... it's her. She would entirely agree that all she has is her fire and her demons and everything she is trying to reach. And she's almost 16... it all fits. (Look, if it weren't the 1830s, Avenir would deal with her life through music, I can't help but associate more songs with her than any other character.)
Riverside - Agnes Obel
The vibes. Another kinda somber, slower, older sounding song. The want of escape, but not really knowing what you're doing or why. Cambridge definitely sees "how everything is torn in the river deep" (I'm just realizing now, the first time she sees the tear in the universe, it's actually while looking into a river/the canal... huh)
Wanderer's Lullaby - Adriana Figueroa
Listen to this song and associate it with your characters, I guarantee you you can in some way or another. And it will almost certainly make you cry if you think about it too much...
I want to sing it to all my characters to reassure them they're on the right path and things will work out. "You are the dawn of a new day that's waking". They're gonna change the whole world, save so many people. But they're uncertain and scared and and and- I could rant about this one too.
As a treat, honourable mentions, which are all songs by Cosmo Sheldrake because he is basically my favourite musician. "Come Along" and "The Moss" make me think of Lennox because of the optimism and the idea of learning from/pursuing/joining the stories we tell. "Egg and Soldiers" applies to all the kids, but also in particular to Lennox and his lack of forethought. "Solar Waltz" is all the kids and the pressures placed on them by adults and by life. And "Linger a While" is specifically the vibes of the time they spend in the middle of the book at the safehouse (those lyrics, man, so powerful).
I will tag @ratracechronicler (I know Factory Girl was recommended to me by you, and I think Delta Rae was too. wow!), @erinnharper, @vnsmiles @charlmtte No pressure to do it, of course, but if you wanna share some music that makes you think of your writing, I'd love to see!
#west answers#writeblr#amwriting#wip playlist#music#the corvine#lennox#cambridge#avenir#tag game#wait are two of these entitled lullabyes?#that is so wild#there are other songs that really fit the vibe of this wip but don't have the right lyrics#and others that have the right lyrics but don't have the right vibes yknow?#i love all these songs a lot#you can consider any song i talk about on this blog ever to be a song rec#but especially cosmo sheldrake#alll his music is so damn good!
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Gorgeous, galaxy, and masque! :D
Hi love, thank you for asking!
gorgeous; what do you like in a person?
I like kind people. Not people without some sass or snark or ability to drop a diss track so hot I will think about it a week later (especially if it’s on something I or they don’t like, share that tea and make it hot & strong), but the ones who will try to stop and think about what would be the kind thing to do in the situation, to help someone, to have consideration for a stranger.
I like people with whom I can talk. About everything and nothing. That random headcanon for a fandom we maybe don’t even share, but I just wanna hear your thoughts or you - mine. About random meme or what the food is like in your country. Countless little rabbitholes of worlds we can reveal to each other. It’s amazing if their world view and experiences are quite different, the way I get to see new angles of things, as long as it matches up on some core values.
I like people who are really passionate about things, the way they will start rambling and spin whole new dimensions to things I never thought about, I love when they get passionate and rant like this is wrong! and lean into the ridiculousness of the maybe minuscule detail they’re mad about. It’s beautiful and when they often say ‘Oh sorry’, I am so glad to say ‘Oh, don’t be, please tell me more’.
I like if I can know I can be myself with someone, without worrying (too much, because completely not doing so is impossible at this rate) if I am too loud or my humor is too weird or they will be put off by the stutter I sometimes get when I start to chatter, if we’re talking in real life, or that I skip words or mash them together. I like if I know they feel they can do the same to me.
Which leads to that I like if I feel like I can trust someone. Even if only not to gossip further. But on more friendship level, to know I can trust them with my silliest joke or the way I can tell them I am breaking apart right now and that maybe their words are only things keeping me tethered... That is precious to me.
I do like people who can make me laugh, that is true. Most often they do it being unabashedly themselves and I am caught up in delight over their thoughts.
I like all these things in people and it’s what I wish I could be more like, what I try to be though I often run out of energy.
galaxy; what fascinates you?
World. People. Cultures. Languages. Art of how we portray it all.
So much about what we learn about world is colored through the prism of people, their cultures and how they share it, how they depict their mountains or their early, foggy mornings that I, as someone traveling through, may never even see because this is their pocked of world and when they write of it, take photo of it or paint it, they grant me access to this private, gorgeous or sometimes horrible world.
I once had someone tell me ‘you can just google it’ when I asked about their country and their city and I think that it’s a good cornerstone of knowledge, it’s far from what I really want from conversation, from learning.
I am endlessly fascinated by how we all try to say these things, these feelings, and find the comfort someone else has stumbled through them the same way, the community we find with looking up to the sky and knowing someone a hundreds years ago did the same and then decided to build astronomy tower that we’re standing at the foot of now. The way we want to get to know each other - even now through ask games like these. The way we want to talk and communicate and how it is not even linear, because we look back into the past and try to imagine what they thought and felt and just what they saw on their streets.
I am fascinated by the way we love. I’ve seen so much of the opposite, in my small suburban town where there was no need for children to tear down lilac blooms and make for a trampled petal carpet to school mercilessly, that I am fascinated by just how much loving is equally intrinsic part of us.
The way we leave a little bit of us in everything. That little jilted sentence, because it’s closer to how you say it in your native language, the way you paint the ghost dog into the lonely scenery like the one from your childhood and for you it becomes a kinder scene, the way a ring or color or badge on your bag can hold a story, the mug shaped bookmarks of someone’s heart in their cabinet.
And more and more.
masque; what’s your skincare routine?
Honestly, I don’t have one. I am in possession of some Avon and L’oreal products, like scrubs and day cream and overnight mask but I don’t use them regularly by any means, whoops.
Send me a pretty ask?<3
#well I guess you caught me in one of Those Moods#didn't know I was feeling so soft for humanity today#ask games answered#lovely people#letters-to-theo#sent on a cloud#rainy rambles
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Shower Thoughts, to Love, and Back Again
!! gift exchange for @sanderssidesgiftxchange posting time! mines for @anxious-cherryblossom who requested “ A fluff oneshot of LAMP, Analogical or Royality! The tooth-rottier the better”
Summery: Logan and Virgil are awake at 1am. Virgil handles this by throwing out some random thoughts and being sappy, it's cute, I'm bad at summaries.
read on AO3 HERE
there is very very minor of talk about death and blood but its like one line of dialogue each ashjadbawkjaa theres also a smidge of angst whoops its cleared up real quick tho
or! its under the read more!
“Hey, Logan?” When there was no response, the emo gently poked the man lying next to him on the shoulder. “Logan.” Still nothing, Virgil poked a little harder. “Logan. Babe.”
Finally, Logan stirred, “Virgil?” He turned to look at the emo, squinting his eyes a bit. “What are you doing up?”
“Logan. Okay, have you ever thought about how at the end of the day, we’re just brains trapped inside a meat suit?”
“...Virgil, I love you, but what the fuck? Where on earth did that come from?”
“I’m tired, Logan, what are you expecting from me.”
“Okay, well, Virgil, could you please tell your meat suit to go to bed, because it’s one in the goddamn morning, and I would like to go back to sleep.”
Virgil looked a bit sheepish, “Ok, so, I get that, but also, like, anxiety says fuck that so…” Logan sighed, sitting up, knowing he’d be unable to sleep until his boyfriend managed to calm himself. “Ever think about how if you live on a farm and take care of chickens for a living, how that makes you a chicken tender?”
“You’ve been spending far too much time with Remus.”
“You’re probably right, but also, like, have you seen his face when you tell him no? He looks like a kicked puppy or some shit, how can you say no to that face looking right at you? How, Logan?”
Logan sighed, gently shaking his head. “It wasn’t intended to be an insult toward either of you, simply just an observation. I’m well aware that you and Remus see each other as brothers, of sorts, and who am I to take that away from either of you?”
“Cool cool cool, also, humans are frozen.”
There was silence. “I’m sorry, dear, what?”
“Well, you have a liquid, ok? So if you take that liquid and change it into a solid, you do that by freezing it, right? So if you have a solid, it’s safe to assume that it’s at or below the freezing point, right? So it’s frozen.”
“Darling, I’m still so confused right now.”
“Humans are solid, and solids are frozen liquids, so humans are frozen.”
“What on Earth is going through your brain right now, Virgil?”
“So many things, Logan. So many things. So many things and almost none of them are good.”
“Almost?”
“You’re doing the cute head tilt thing you always do when you’re confused, it looks kinda like a confused kitten and it’s absolutely adorable and it lives in my head rent-free at all times every day.”
Logan blinked. “Virgil, thoughts and ideas and the like aren’t living, they cannot live anywhere, much less pay re-”
“And another thing! It’s super adorable when you always take things so literally, like, you understand some idioms, but like, when you’re tired you just. You just don’t understand? And that’s super adorable? It’s also a great indicator of when you need to sleep, which is also a great indicator of when we can cuddle that won’t have you leaving after a little? Also, it makes you do the cute head tilt thing and I just, god I love you.”
“I love you too, darling.” The two of them laid together, appreciating the other’s company for a moment. “Wait, Virgil, you said you couldn’t sleep because of your anxiety, but what about?”
“Asking if someone has slept on something is the human equivalent of asking if they turned it on and off again.”
“Wonderfully cursed, darling, but you're avoiding the question. What’s got you so worried?” Virgil cuddled into Logan, burying his face in Logan’s neck, whining quietly. “You’re being very adorable, but you’re still avoiding the question, love.”
Virgil whined slightly louder, before running out of air. He sucked in a large breath and “ItotallymighthaveacrushonPattonandRomanbutlikeIstillloveyouobviouslylikeyou’reamazingIloveyousomu-” he was cut off when Logan gently placed a finger over Virgil’s lips, a small smile on his face.
“One more time, darling. Just a little slower, if you will.”
Virgil took a deep breath, calming himself slightly, still speaking quickly, though Logan could understand. “I totally might have a crush on Patton and Roman but like, I still love you obviously, like you’re amazing I love you so much.”
Virgil watched as Logan fumbled around for a minute, in fear that he had said too much, that this was the final straw, that Logan would– “Ah-ha!”
“Ah-ha?”
“I was wondering where it went! Right, so, back to your confession, Virgil, I believe that the term that I was looking for was,” he shuffled through his newly gathered flashcards before flipping one out towards Virgil, “is ‘same’. Or would it be ‘mood’? One of the two of them at least, from my understanding they would both mean roughly the same thing in this situation.” The two of them made eye contact for a moment before Logan glanced away. “Although, perhaps it would have been a better idea to have simply said that I… am in the same metaphorical boat. I too have a crush on Patton and Roman, as well as still loving you dearly. I am somewhat sure that I informed you of my being polyamorous when we started dating, didn’t I?” Virgil managed a small nod, somewhat confused and overwhelmed. “I thought so. Since I am polyamorous, it would be quite hypocritical of me to break up with you, or something of the sort, so of course I would be completely alright with you having crushes on others, even if I didn’t also share those feelings, and I’m rambling, aren’t I?”
“I… I mean, you are, but it’s still kinda cute? Also, I’m really confused? What’s happening?”
“What’s happening? Virgil, dear, I’m simply telling you that it is quite alright to have feelings for the others, as I am in the same metaphorical boat and share those feelings as well. In fact, there’s quite a high possibility that the others do, in fact, reciprocate those feelings. At least, they reciprocate them for you.”
“Wait, wait, wait, ok, ok, we have a couple things to address there, um. Let’s start with my gut reaction to hearing you mention that they may like me somehow, which is just: what the fuck? No. Wrong. No. No way. Uh, next thing: Logan, babe, why on earth wouldn’t they like you? You’re amazing, adorable, funny, witty, smart, wonderful, and more, I’m just tired and can’t english-” grabbing Logan’s shoulders and gently shaking him, Virgil continued, “-but you’re fucking amazing, and if they have any goddamn brain cells, they’d see that, and they’d love you, just like I do.”
Logan stood there, eyes wide, as he watched his boyfriend speak so passionately, being rocked back and forth as Virgil forgot he was still holding his shoulders. Virgil slowly stopped ranting, coming back to the present as he noticed his boyfriends eyes slowly begin to become teary.
“Babe? Oh, Logan, honey, why are you crying? Was it something I said? I didn’t mean to make you feel bad, or anything, oh god did I accidentally strike a nerve?”
Logan smiled, tears slowly falling from his eyes, “You didn’t do anything with an adverse effect, Virgil. In fact, you said what I needed to hear, even if I wasn’t aware that I needed to hear it. You know me, I don’t typically care for sentiments, but it is… nice. To hear those kinds of things, from someone that I ca-. No. Someone that I love. I tend to metaphorically fall into a rut, per say, where I can’t stop thinking about my shortcomings - Virgil, I love you, we don’t need to get into those right at this moment - but I get stuck thinking about them, and internalizing them to the point where they become so much of my personal identity, and hearing someone who I know logically will not lie about that sort of thing inform me that those perceived shortcomings are, in fact, falsehoods helps my brain, to logically understand that they are, and sometimes, that realization comes with a couple tears along the way. You didn’t do anything with any adverse effects, Virgil, I promise you.”
“You’re sure?”
Logan frowned, pulling Virgil into a close hug. “I’m absolutely positive, my dear. Just as I am certain about the existence of the stars above, I am certain that nothing that you have said to me today has had any negative effects, mentally or otherwise. I swear it.”
A little snicker, then, “You sound like Princey when you get sappy.”
“Falsehood. Though we all sound somewhat similar, due to us being parts of Thomas, we also do all sound different. I was not making an effort to impersonate Roman, so I still sounded like myself.”
“Babe, I meant, like, the grand gestures, flowery language, and shit, not your actual voice.”
“Oh. I see.”
“Yeah, anyway! Massive subject change! Nothing’s on fire, fire’s just on things.”
“Ah. Back to this, I see. You’re technically not wrong, I suppose.”
“A ton of people is just like… 10 people.”
“I believe it would be closer to anywhere between 12 and 15, based on average weights, yes.”
“Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed.”
“Horribly cursed, yet someone true. Stomachs don’t have brains, and therefore cannot think, but if they could, they likely would believe that.”
“When you brush your teeth, you’re cleaning your skeleton, and it’s the only time you ever do that.”
“A little fun fact for you, Virgil, your teeth? They aren’t actually bones.”
“I’m sorry, they’re not what?”
“Teeth contain collagen, when bones do not. Teeth are more similar, though not identical, to finger or toe nails, or even hair, due to the keratin contained in all of those, though it is in significantly lower levels within teeth.”
“Logan, I think that is, no contest, the worst thing I have ever heard anyone say. Ever. That’s worse then something Remus would say on a bad day. I hate the idea of teeth just… being hair. I hate that. I love you, but jesus Logan, what the actual flying fuck? You’ve sent me into a crisis, Logan, a crisis. About teeth.”
“As Roman would say, Virgil, you are usually experiencing some form of crisis, this is not a new phenomenon.”
“Roman would not say the word phenomenon, and would throw in a nickname, so that was not what he would say, that was the idea in your words.”
“I suppose that is true, yes. Would you like me to provide some more facts? I promise they won’t be teeth related.”
“I… sure? I’m still lowkey reeling, so go for it? I like hearing you talk. It’s nice. Soothing.”
“If you’re being this one, you must really be tired. Hm, let me think. Ah, yes, around 17 milliliters of human blood can function as an egg substitute when baking.”
“Why the absolute fuck is that a fact that humanity knows.”
“I honestly could not tell you. There’s a town in Norway where dying is illegal.”
“That’s a segway, what the fuck? How do you outlaw that?”
“I’d imagine that it is quite a difficult law to enforce. There are more bacteria living in a human's mouth than there are humans on Earth.”
“That’s… a lot of bacteria.”
“Approximately 50 billion would be considered a lot, yes.”
“What the fuck.”
“A quarter of your bones are located in your feet.”
“Okay! That’s enough of that for like… what time is it now?”
“I believe it’s 1:36.”
“Right! That’s enough horrible thoughts for 1:36 in the fucking morning, so it’s bedtime! Come cuddle me again and lets fucking go back to bed, holy shit.”
“Didn’t I mention that we should try that over half an hour ago, my dear?”
“Hey, Logan? Starshine? Love? Yeah, shut the fuck up. I love you, so fucking much, but shut the fuck up, and cuddle me. We’re sleeping, and you’re either turning off your alarm, or setting it for later, you’re cuddling me until I say we’re done, okay? Okay.”
“Alright, love.”
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for the hc/drabble meme: sunlight and/or relax! seperate ideas or together, up to you!
Sorry for the late answer, work has been hectic the past two days ;; Thanks for the prompt dearie
Relax
It wasn’t often that the Companions ever got a moment to rest but after a dry spell of jobs swept through the mead hall, the warriors found themselves underwhelmed. While most saw it as a terrible thing, Saoirse found herself relieved. Despite being among the ranks of the other whelps for a few weeks now, she couldn’t help but yearn for a break.
“And just where are you going, mutt?” Vilkas nearly barked as his least favorite person walked past the dining hall table. She was half way into a braid as she waltzed past, not paying anyone any amount of attention and it drove him up the wall. Glowering now, Vilkas cleared his throat.
“You were asked a question, do you not have the sense to answer?” He barked again.
“Couldn’a tell if you were speaking to me or just barking at a rabbit outside.” She cooed between pursed lips. She wrinkled her nose in delight at the angered expression that slid onto his face. Giggling, she finished tied off her braid and turned around on her heel.
“But if you must now, I’m going on a picnic.” She continued once Vilkas finished ranting at her about respect for the third time that week.
“A picnic?” Asked Ria as she made her way up from the sleeping barracks. Late to the party, she sheepishly grinned to the other guild members as they snickered at her tardiness.
“Aye! Not like we have anything better to do and I’m starting to feel stuffy in here.” Saoirse chirped to the other whelp. The cheeky smile that followed earned her loud grunt from Vilkas, though Ria seemed curious.
“I haven’t been on one of those since I was a child….” Ria trailed off, looking around sheepishly until finally letting them settle on Saoirse who chuckled. Ria wasn’t pouting by any means but she had a certain twinkle of hope in her eyes that was charming in it’s own right.
“Would you fancy to come along?” Saoirse asked though she already knew the answer before Ria had a chance to reply. Smiling, Ria excitedly ran off back to the barracks, shouting about grabbing her knapsack.
“If anyone else wants to join, you’ll have to pitch in for food, now. I’ve only got a bit of bread and cheese and I’m far too stingy to pay for more specially when you lot have more money than I do.”
The remark earned her a chuckle from Kodlak of all people, earning him curious looks for the other Circle Members, save for Farkas who seemed rather amused by the idea of a picnic.
“I like food.” The bulkier of the twins said with his brows raised. Far more laid-back than his brother, Farkas tended to be the Circle Member most whelps were most comfortable with. “I’m sure you do. Healthy as you are.” Saoirse said with a wink his way, making him grin. “Why don’t you tag along then? Carry our things like a man ought to do.” She continued once Ria scrambled back up the steps. The brunette was frantically stuffing things into her knapsack and looked rather encumbered by it all.
“I-I’m ready!” She shouted happily after tucking the last of her daggers into the bag, shooting Saoirse a smile. The red head across the way couldn’t help but snort at the sight but never-the-less motioned Farkas over.
“Good, Farkas wants to join, too. He’ll carry our things while we worry about more important things.” Saoirse said while Farkas haphazardly helped Ria fumble around her various weapons and things.
“More important things?” Ria asked after strapping the last of her things to much taller male who stood still and waiting the next part of the plan. Vilkas, from the table, rested his head on his hand in disdain at the sight.
“You look like a pack-mule, Farkas. Please, do you really want to follow her around all morning?” Vilkas sighed, giving Saoirse a dirty look before glancing to his twin. The two were very close but in recent weeks he found himself rivaled for his brother’s confidence and it made his blood boil.
“If you want to come you’re more than welcome to but otherwise why don’t you mind your own?” Saoirse scoffed back before Farkas could reply. Vilkas could have jumped over the table.
“I have half a mind to-” The oldest twin started to yell, only cut off by the sound of the Hall door’s shutting. Flabbergasted, he stared at the empty spot ahead for a moment more until Torvar’s snorting caught his attention.
“I like her. Needed some spice around here…” The drunken Nord said with a snicker making Vilkas groan. While everyone else seemed to be warming up to the idea, he couldn’t help but feel something was off about Saoirse. Call him paranoid but she was hiding something.
Outside near the city gates, the trio of picnic goers talked casually among themselves, dodging the children that ran the streets. The weather had been lovely the past few days and despite the chill in the air that swept in from the mountains it was a good day for a trek.
“I’m excited! I haven’t had a day off in a few months now…” Ria said, counting on her fingers while she thought. “It must have been six now…”
“Far too long, I say. Never been a fan of being cooped up.” Saoirse chortled. “Makes me feel anxious.”
“Sitting at the dining hall gets stale. Fresh air is good.” Farkas said from behind the two women, contently listening to them ramble and following along. Quiet as he was, he was an earnest man and said what he needed to when he did speak.
“Aye it is, well said Farkas. Stale air cannae be good for you to breath.” Saoirse began, nodding to a few guards in passing. Never one to enjoy the idea of a guard, let alone more than one, she was on her best behavior until further notice.
“Besides it’ll do us good to relax a bit, after all that training…” Saoirse cooed, rubbing her shoulder. Never in her life had she trained as much as she had in the past three weeks as a whelp and it was killing her slowly she was convinced. Farkas, however, seemed more amused by the thought that she expected. Curious, she and Ria turned to look at the large male who was snickering to himself.
“I wouldn’t call running your mouth while the others practice training, Red.” He chuckled deeply.
It took a moment for it to settle in but once it did, Ria burst into a fit of giggles, quickly covering her mouth when Saoirse scoffed, smiling in disbelief. Mouth agape, the red head couldn’t help but raise a brow and let her lips curve into a cheeky smile. Whipping around on her heels again and continuing the trek out of the city, she chuckled some.
“I knew you had some fire in you, brute~”—Whoops that’s more than a drabble but I was feelin’ it so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
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A Bag of Tricks (One-Shot)
🎃 Happy Halloween, Mythical Beasts! 🎃
Proud to announce this morning that I’ve written a new one-shot fic, which is now available below or on my AO3 page! Hope you like it, have a great day!
❤️ Sage
(Shoot me your ideas for future fics in my ask box!)
Summary: In a sudden turn of events, middle schoolers and best friends Rhett and Link receive a bit more than just candy on Halloween night.
The scent of warm sugar and burning wood permeated through the dimly lit streets of Buies Creek, as children of all ages, dressed in costumes from such hit movies as Terminator and the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, scoured doorsteps for seasonal treats. A full moon hung above the horizon, shining a faint light on the neighborhood’s many rooftops, each letting out puffs of chimney smoke that soon vanished into the cool autumn air. Already hoisting large bags of goodies over their shoulders, a group of enthusiastic eighth-graders approached their next house.
“Hurry up!” one of them hollered back toward the rest of the group that dragged on behind him. “I heard this house gives out mega-sized Push Pops!”
“You’ve said that about nearly every house!” a girl chimed in, causing the first boy to mutter under his breath as he raced ahead of her to the front door. At the rear of the group trekked two slender boys, the taller one dressed as Batman and the shorter as Robin. Shaking his pillowcase, which was nearly filled to the brim with sweets, the smaller brunette looked up at his friend.
“Whadd’ya think, bo? Y’think I got enough room here for another bag of Sour Patch Kids?” Link chirped.
“D’ya even like Sour Patch Kids?” the blonde laughed. “Yer gonna have a lotta candy to sort through once we get back, and I bet’cha half of it’s goin’ t’me!”
“You wish, McLaughlin!” Link retorted, grinning widely. “Race ya t’the porch!”
And with that, the two boys nearly tripped on the lawn on their way to beat each other to their neighbors’ patio, with Rhett just barely pulling ahead due to his long legs.
“See, what’d I tell ya? Y’owe me two Airheads fer that one, bo,” Rhett claimed, to which Link rolled his eyes. As the group held out their bags to be filled, another boy looked at the brightly-colored Surf Leash Shark watch on his wrist.
“Hey, it’s gettin’ t’be pretty late, m’legs are startin’ to ache,” he announced to the troop of kids surrounding him. “Should we head back t’my place?”
Nodding in agreement, the band of exhausted children made their way to the boy’s parents’ house, descending into the basement to exchange prizes and enjoy the rest of their evening.
“Annnnnd I’ll be takin’ those!” Rhett stated, scooping up a red and blue Airhead from Link’s pile.
“Hey! I didn’t think y’were serious!” Link frowned.
“I won fair ‘n square, bo!” the older boy answered. “Don’t worry, I’ll give ya my box of Nerds for ‘em.”
The blue-eyed boy smiled at Rhett’s gesture, face reddening slightly at his kindness. The group soon found themselves immersed in The Goonies, which played on the large box television set in front of them. As the two boys sat next to each other on the couch, surrounded by their classmates, Rhett draped one of his lengthy arms over Link’s head and behind the cushion. To anyone else, this would mean nothing. However, given their proximity, Link found himself blushing an even deeper shade of pink. He tried to focus his gaze on the screen and silently prayed that his sidekick mask shielded his now-rosy cheeks. He occasionally peeked up at his superhero counterpart through his peripheral vision, who was seemingly unaffected by their closeness.
About an hour of the film went by before one brown-haired girl dressed as Scarlett O’Hara yawned and suddenly spoke up.
“I’m bored!” she exclaimed. “Anyone wanna play a game instead?”
Almost instantly, the movie was paused and the children debated on what they should play, suggesting games such as hide and seek versus truth or dare. Finally, somehow, the group unanimously decided on “7 Minutes in Heaven,” much to Link’s chagrin. He had never kissed anyone before, despite previously having one girlfriend. Therefore, he was wildly inexperienced when it came down to it. He wasn’t sure if the same applied to Rhett, who normally shared everything with him. Still, it was possible Rhett would have kept the details of his love life a secret from him up until this point…
The pre-teens sat in a large circle in the center of the room, placing an empty Coke bottle in the middle. One girl started the game and, soon enough, one by one they paired off, disappearing down the hall and into the large closet, only to return minutes later. With each spin, Link’s heartbeat increased, using all of his mental energy to wish that it wouldn’t land on Rhett.
As they went around the room, it seemed that the dark-haired boy had gotten his wish, as no girl in the room landed on his taller friend. Rhett pouted, eager for it to finally be his turn.
“Hey, what gives?” he whined. “How’s it we’ve been at this fer nearly 30 minutes, and no one’s picked me yet?!”
“Quit yer wailin’, Rhett,” another boy rebutted, handing him the bottle. “S’yer turn anyway!”
Rhett just gawked at it, quickly becoming very quiet. Link watched him in suspense as Rhett gulped, almost loudly enough to be the only noise in the room. The green-eyed boy felt the area around his brow become damp, not letting it show since he was wearing what was almost a full-face mask.
“S’matter, McLaughlin? Y’chicken?” the boy taunted, clucking as their classmates giggled along.
“No way!” Rhett countered, snatching the bottle out of the boy’s hand and planting it in front of him. Link’s eyes widened as he spun it swiftly, unknowingly gaping at it as it slowed down and at long last landed on…
...him.
Link couldn’t do anything but just stare at the glass bottle pointed directly at him, as if he was frozen in place. The other children let out a gasp as Rhett bulged out his eyes in terror.
“Ha! Rhett’s gotta kiss Link!” another girl declared, allowing the other children to whoop loudly. Link began to panic, slowly raising his head to meet his best friend’s equally-stunned gaze. Rhett, his best friend since the first grade… and now he was supposed to be his first kiss?! Both completely unsure of what to do in that moment, they were soon blindly lifted off the floor by their friends and shoved down the hallway toward the walk-in closet. They didn’t even have enough time to process what was happening before they were pushed inside, hearing a boy’s voice on the other side of the closed door.
“Yer seven minutes starts now, don’t come out until yer time’s up!” he teased, cackling as he walked away.
Inside the closet, the two friends could barely make out each other’s faces in the dark. The shorter boy trembled, feeling like he was going to implode. Rhett was just as overwhelmed and the two just stood there in silence, letting some minutes pass before deciding to take action. As Rhett was about to speak up, the other boy began rambling.
“Hey, uh, listen Rhett,” Link ranted. “I know they threw us in here expectin’ us t’do somethin’, but you should know that I don’t expect nothin’ from ya! I dunno what you’ve done before or who with, but I’ve never kissed anyone and was kinda hopin’ it would be somethin’ special… not that it wouldn’t be with you! I’d actually really like t’kiss ya, only if that’s what you wanted, but- oh gosh, this is comin’ out wrong… y’know what I mean, right? I don’t wanna make y’do anythin’ you don’t wanna, or if y’do at least not like this, but-”
Ripping off his bat mask, the brunette was suddenly cut off by Rhett’s soft lips pressing against his, startling him as Rhett moved to embrace the shorter boy. The kiss was awkward at first, with both of them not knowing what to do next. A brief moment passed before they eased into it, and soon Link’s own arms were wrapped around the taller boy’s neck to bring him closer as their lips moved slowly in perfect rhythm. Link’s tanned skin turned a bright shade of crimson as Rhett craned his neck down to deepen the kiss.
Needing to catch their breath, the duo finally separated and looked into each other’s eyes beaming.
“Wow,” Link breathed out, causing Rhett to chuckle.
“Hey, if m’bein’ honest, Link… that was my first kiss, too.”
“Really?” Link questioned. “...well, what’d y’think of it?”
“...y’taste like Nerds.”
“Shut up!” Link squealed, playfully smacking Rhett’s arm as they both chortled, leaving the enclosed space to regroup with the others.
Ironically, Halloween had never been so sweet.
#MY PRECIOUS SHY BABIES#tooth-rotting fluff#rhink#randl#Rhett and Link#Rhett & Link#rhett mclaughlin#link neal#fanfiction#college#fluff#halloween#halloween costumes#middle school#trick or treating#7 minutes in heaven#first kiss#gmm#Good Mythical Morning#youtube#mythical#R&L#good mythical shipping
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27. Tell me I’m wrong (old friends)
“You’re in love!” Tony burst loudly into Steve’s apartment, the door slamming into the wall and bouncing back with a deafening slam.
“Whoops,” Tony halted in the hallway with a sheepish grimace at the noise before he shook it off and continued into the living room where Steve was staring up at him with mild impatience across his face. It was a sad fact of his life that Steve was more than used to these interruptions of his best friend barging into his life. There wasn’t much he could do to stall Tony now, so Steve merely closed his book on his fingers to mark his page and leaned back into the couch cushions expectantly, waiting for Tony to explain himself.
“I worked it out! You’re in love! That’s why you’re so grumpy all of a sudden; it’s quite obvious that something’s wrong when Steve Rogers stops smiling. And that’s the reason that you have loads of ice cream and cookies in the kitchen instead of your usual health shit. You’re sulking.
“It has to be love because there’s nothing else that would get you down. The only thing would be one of your friends being hurt, but we’re all fine, so it has to be a you thing. And your job is perfect and your apartment is perfect and everything else is shipshape, so it’s gotta be your heart.”
Steve lifted an eyebrow in surprise. He knew Tony cared passionately about his friends, but such a display when Tony was normally as observant as a tea-spoon was definitely a shock.
“And obviously that person doesn’t know because, hello, have you met you? There isn’t anyone who would turn you down. No one,” he emphasised, gesturing at Steve’s everything and making Steve blush a scarlet red. Taking a deep breath, Tony launched back into his rant.
“So,” Tony continued, drawing Steve’s attention back to him, “if you could have said something, you would have because you’re brave, even if you thought you’d have been rejected. And you haven’t, so there has to be some reason that you won’t say anything. Because you’re a good guy, I’m going to guess that the person you love is in a relationship with someone else. Yes?”
Despite the rambling, Steve followed along brilliantly and didn’t that just give a sad statement about his life? Tony didn’t give Steve a chance to answer before he began again, pacing further into the living room and coming to a halt in front of Steve. “It has to be someone you see all the time because you’re so bummed, so that is making me think it’s someone in our little circle.”
They weren’t really a little circle; there were eight of them that were like family. Tony and Steve had met in their very first year, hating each other in their Monday morning 8am class until a project had thrown them together and they’d realised the other wasn’t actually so bad. They’d met the others in college, each of them dragging new people in from classes and the cafeteria until they’d formed a perfect group full of a very weird blend of personalities. Although they’d added a few extras in the form of partners as they got older, they were the same core they’d always been and Steve loved every single one of them.
“And that majorly sucks because everyone in our group is in a loving and committed relationship with someone else in the pack. Unless you love Bruce.” Tony paused and looked at Steve in consideration, eyes narrowed and head tilted to one side, “but I really don’t think that Bruce is your type. So. Tell me I’m wrong.”
Tony ended his speech there triumphantly, his chest sticking out in pride despite the panting slightly with the force of his rant. Spreading his hands out to the sides, Tony beamed at Steve as if begging him to prove him wrong. Steve waited for a long moment and when he was sure that Tony was done, he shrugged, dropping his gaze back down and reopening his book.
“You’re wrong,” Steve said simply.
“What?” Tony cried loudly. He dropped down heavily next to Steve on the couch and grabbed his arm. “No,” he continued forlornly, dramatically. “No, I can’t be!”
“Well, you are,” Steve said lightly, body swaying as Tony shook him. “Trust me.”
“Tell me then.”
“Tell you what?” Steve asked, finally looking up from his book in confusion.
“Tell me where I went so wrong,” Tony clarified, settling back into the cushions and holding Steve’s gaze. “I want to know. I want to know what’s wrong with you.”
“No.”
“Why not?” Tony asked.
“Because I don’t want to,” Steve said simply, turning back to his book but not actually reading anything.
“Just tell me which part was wrong,” Tony maintained. “I know it wasn’t the love part.”
“This is very personal,” Steve said casually, but there was a tight undertone to his voice hinting that Tony should drop it.
“I know,” Tony said. “I’m sorry, Steve, but I just want to help.” Tony fell silent for a moment before swallowing and speaking softly. “Was it the love part?”
There was a long pause before Steve sighed. “No.”
“Okay,” Tony said, a smug smile clear in his tone. Steve rolled his eyes, albeit fondly. “Was it the friends part?”
“No,” Steve admitted in a small voice. He couldn’t lie to Tony, no matter how much he wanted to, especially about this. It was not a discussion that he wanted to have, not with anyone but definitely not with Tony.
“So which part was it?” Tony asked in confusion. “There wasn’t another… wait. Was it the single part?”
“Yes.” God, this was like pulling teeth and Steve wanted to sink through the floor.
“Everyone is in a relationship though,” Tony continued, talking more to himself than Steve until he rounded on the other man with a confused look on his face. “It isn’t Bruce, is it?”
“No!” Steve stressed. Steve adored Bruce, that was for sure, but he had never felt anything romantic towards the man. Yes, he liked his partners shorter, nerdy and dark-haired, but there was only room for one in his heart at a time. He didn’t know why it was so important for him to make Tony so damn sure that he wasn’t interested in Bruce. Well, he did know, he just didn’t want to think about it right then. “What is it with you thinking I’m in love with Bruce?”
“Well, everyone else is in a relationship!” Tony said, throwing his hands up. “And you love Bruce! He’s a logical choice!”
“He is not a logical choice,” Steve said.
“Well, that’s rude–”
“And not everyone else is in a relationship,” Steve barrelled over Tony’ interruption, taking a deep breath and deciding to be brave for once.
“Yes, everyone is. Unless someone broke up! No, my phone would be blowing up.” Tony froze and grabbed his phone, frantically checking it. He relaxed when he saw that he had no new messages, but stopped again as another thought hit him.
“Wait, no. You don’t mean…?” Tony hesitated, turning his gaze to look back up at Steve slowly. Steve didn’t meet his gaze and stared hard down at his book instead.
“Steve,” Tony said insistently, tone actually serious for once, “did you mean me?”
Steve sighed to himself before closing his book once again. He leant forward and placed it on the coffee table, taking a few moments to steel himself before he sat back, twisting himself to face Tony fully. “Yes,” he said, voice so much stronger than he felt. His hands were shaking, but he managed to sound somewhat steady. “I was talking about you. I’m in love with you.”
“What? No, I mean… what?”
Steve huffed out a weak laugh. That response was just so, well, Tony.
“You love me?”
Well. He’d said it now. No taking it back. “I do.”
Tony smiled, a wide beam lighting up the whole room. He was so beautiful that Steve couldn’t help but stare at him in wonder, drinking in the sight of his happiness. When Tony reached out a hand and took Steve’s in his own, Steve’s hands stilled.
“I love you too.”
Steve smiled back, a hesitant smile which grew to match Tony’ when the other man’s words really sunk in. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
Although Tony moved first, Steve met him in the middle and pressed their lips together passionately, his mouth opening immediately to swipe his tongue along Tony’s lower lip. The taste was so perfect that Steve couldn’t help his groan, pushing even closer to Tony as he lifted his hands to cup the man’s head.
“I knew I wasn’t wrong,” Tony whispered when they broke apart.
“You kinda were though,” Steve countered with a smirk. “It took you a while to work it out.”
“Meh, I got there in the end. And you love me.”
“You did,” Steve said happily, not resisting the urge to catch Tony’s lips again. When he realised that he didn’t have to stop himself from doing that, he kissed Tony again and again and again. “And I do. So much more than Bruce.”
#i wrote a thing#stony september#stony au#i already wrote one about friends#my b#stevetony#stony fic rec#stony fic#stevetony fic rec#steve rogers#tony stark#stony#stony ficlet
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(for that fic commentary thing :) ) Mush tried desperately to make eye contact with Blink to see if it was real, but Blink stubbornly kept his head down. Mush felt hot tears in his eyes. Surely, this wasn’t how they would end, this had to be a dream. He would wake up any second and Blink would put his arms around him and hold him close and reassure him that he would never leave him.However, it was not a dream, and Mush found that out the hard way when Oscars knuckles connected with his skull.
I should really title my shit
comments in these bad bois ()
_________
Mush had been on edge all morning. He listened to Jack ramble to Weasel about the strike, scanning the crowd of newsboys for a familiar head of sandy hair. Blink hadn’t been at the lodge that morning and Mush was beginning to get worried. What if he had bailed on them? (Welp that’s a terrible opening, it doesn’t even establish if they’re at the actual strike or not but yolo I’m leaving it)
Mush’s worst fears were confirmed when he saw his boyfriend walking up to the circulation gate amongst the other scabs to buy papers. His stomach sunk down to his shoes. (is that a term? isn’t it sinking to the floor? they’re outside there is no floor….Wait is it your heart?) Surely Blink wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t betray all of them. Would he? (oh yes he would)
Mush tried desperately to make eye contact with Blink to see if it was real, but Blink stubbornly kept his head down. Mush felt hot tears in his eyes. (ew that’s cringy. can tears even be hot? I don’t think I’m using this correctly…..) Surely, this wasn’t how they would end, this had to be a dream. He would wake up any second and Blink would put his arms around him and hold him close and reassure him that he would never leave him.
However, it was not a dream, (no shit) and Mush found that out the hard way when Oscars knuckles connected with his skull. (that was a disgusting intro argh I regret writing this)
•••
Hours later, after getting beaten beyond recognition by the bulls and the brothers, Mush staggered into an ally to rest a moment. (wait what injuries does he have? im confused, should I work those out...nah) He was trying to get back to the lodge, to all of his brothers whom (is this an instance where I should use whom, idfk but it sounds cool) he knew should be worried about him, but he lacked the strength. (seriously what happened to him??) All he could hope was that one of the boys found him.
And someone did, eventually. But it wasn’t the someone he had been hoping for.
“Mush?! Oh my god. Mush, can you hear me? Oh my god, oh my god.” (ah yes I forgot to add those italics when I published whoops)
Mush blinked open his eyes to see the one person who, until this morning, he had trusted more than anything. Blink was kneeling down in front of him, concern and worry clouding his face. (I use the word clouding way too much) Mush wasn’t sure if he was relieved or terrified to see him.
Blink reached out his hand to touch Mush’s face, but he flinched away. Blink looked hurt. “Mush…” he whispered in disbelief. (awwwwwww)
“No,” Mush croaked out. “You don’ ge’ t’ touc’ me an’mor’.” (Argh stuttering and slurring is so hard to write is that even legible)
“Mush, listen I-” (sHuT uP bLinK)
“No,” Mush said again with as much force as he could muster. He paused to spat some blood out of his mouth. (Seriously boi What happened to you? If you’re that badly hurt Blink should havebrought you to the lodge instead of talking) “You b’tray’d us. You shoul’n’ e’en be ‘ere. Jus’ -”
“Michael Myers, will you just shut up and listen to me?” (FUCK IS HIS NAME MICHAEL SHIT FUCK CRAP I NEED TUMBLR)
Mush was so startled by the use of his real name that he paused his rant.
“Oscar and Morris,” Blink began, “they cornered me yesterday. Offered me three dollars (is three dollars even a lot back then?) and a promise that they wouldn’t hurt you during the strike if I became a scab. As I didn’t-” Blink paused, sniffling slightly. “I didn’t want you to get hurt. And money’s been tight at the lodge recently and I knew we would need some to buy medical stuff and food once the strike started. And I didn’t want to, believe me it was the last thing I wanted. But I had to keep you safe, I had to at least try, I can’t….I can’t lose you too.” (too? Who else have you lost? Idk but I’m putting it in) Blink wiped at his eyes with the bottom of his shirt. “But it looks like it was all for nothing cause they beat you up so bad I barely even recognized you coming in here. It was all for nothing and now you probably hate me and the boys all probably hate me so I’ll just bring you back to the lodge and then I’ll be gone, okay? I’ll leave and never come back. None of you guys are going to want to have a traitor there anyway.” (awwwwwwwwwwwww soft soft boyo I love you)
Mush stared at Blink in a stunned silence for several long seconds before reaching out his less injured arm to clasp Blinks hand. (Less injured arm? Has this kid gone through a war or something?) Blink looked up in surprise at the contact.
“I firgiv’ ya,” Mush slurred. (fuck more slurring) “Ya did th’ wron’ thing fir th’ righ’ re’sins. An’ ‘f any uh da fellas can’ see tha’...” Mush trailed off. There was so much more he wanted to say. Blink had been so brave, doing something he knew might get him kicked out of his only home just to protect him. Admittedly, it hadn’t worked in his favor but it was the thought that counted.
“Thank you,” Blink whispered, curling his fingers gently around Mush’s potentially broken ones. (pretty sure I stole this from a fic oops) “I love you, Mush.”
Mush was too tired to say it back, but he squeezed Blinks hand ever so slightly. Blink seemed to notice Mush’s rapidly deteriorating physical state (oh finally? It’s not like he’s half dead or anything get him back you moron o wait I’m the author I have the power to do that oops) because his eyes widened and he gently picked his boyfriend up. Mush let out a few pained moans, but remained otherwise quiet.
“C’mon babe,” he whispered. “Let’s get you home.” (that could have been longer but I’m lazy argh)
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An insight into Cristina’s life by C. Bonadincel
You wake up to 45 text messages from your son Máximo waiting to be answered on your phone. Check your facebook/twitter/Instagram and you have 450 likes on the selfie you took of yourself with a caption making fun of our current President. You want more attention though, so you take a shower, put on a shirt that whoops! accidentally lets the side of your bra show, put on 4 whole pencil’s worth of eyeliner to go from a 9.5/10 to a 10/10, and snap a quick selfie of yourself that you quickly upload to your social media accounts with some sarcastic emojis. Maybe this one will get you 4500 likes.
Your driver takes you to the Senate in a car that cost 365,283 whole Argentinian pesos. Before you get out you make a quick video complaining about all the injustices done to you by Federal Justice Claudio Bonadio : ( Got to keep the public talking about you! you laugh to yourself. As you walk into the Congress building, you pass several Federal Justices on the street. They all stare at you as you pass. Most of them are actually concerned with bringing justice to the nation of Argentina and punishing its most heinous white-collar criminals. Gross! You ignore them. These losers spend their whole adult life jerking off to persecuting their political opponents, and they still only earn one million pesos per year—legally.
You stop to get your usual morning diet fruit salad on the way. Have to maintain all 140 pounds of you! The good-looking boy serves you and tries chatting you up again, but he’s too good looking, nothing like your crude, hulking son Máximo or the rotting corpse of your dead husband who it’s time to get over. You know he’s going to ask you out one day, but you’ll end up rejecting him because you only fuck people with the last name of Kirchner. You don’t mind the attention though.
Several men stare at your cleavage and the bruises on your leg that conveniently show through your tights as you resume your walk. It’s so hard to be such a radiant goddess. You enter your 106,000 pesos per year Senate job which you had to get by manipulating the voters due to being a mentally ill degenerate with no competence or leadership skills who’s thirsty for power. You notice many of your male political opponents are there. The Senate is sexist. Typical. You greet all of your coworkers: Máximo’s handsome young friend from La Cámpora, Axel Kicillof your young, brilliant Chad former minister of economy, Máximo’s other handsome young friend from La Cámpora, Hot Blonde Female Senator who you’re probably fucking, and nemesis from the opposing party Vice President Gabriela Michetti (in a wheelchair, so she can’t even sit on the special throne!) Of course the “less corrupt” political party is currently in office. They get all the good jobs now! But that would change. We’re fighting to get me—I mean, us--back into power! You remember how Kim Il-Sung of North Korea is still considered the leader of the nation even after his death. Good on him, you think to yourself.
You ask the Vice President to shut up and let you speak and she immediately does so. You cut a grape from your fruit salad in half because grapes have such a high caloric content and demand that a bottle of low-sodium mineral water be brought to your desk. Máximo’s young Chad friends have to come over to flirt with you, so you make the entire Senate wait for you to begin your egocentric ramblings. Then you take the floor and talk for 45 minutes about how you’re being persecuted for your beliefs and then answer another 45 texts from Máximo. Then leader of the majority Miguel Pichetto asks to speak. He can be so conceited sometimes thinking anyone cares what he has to say! But at least this gives you time to go to the bathroom. You stand up and make sure to announce how unfair it is that the bathroom is so far away while you pretend to be leaving the room quietly and respectfully. Before you know it, it’s lunchtime and you hide in your office and stuff your face with your favorite fried pig intestines so no one sees you eating anything other than fruit salad and grilled chicken.
Around 2pm another senator from your party comes and jokingly asks if you’re doing any work. You laugh and tell him you don’t need to work to make money and smile sexily at him (because you’re talking about all your laundered money). You spend the rest of your time in the Senate ranting on Facebook about how Federal Justice Claudio Bonadio has accused you of colluding with Iran. What an ugly, fat son of a bitch he is! Your post from this morning now has 450,000 likes. You have several text messages from Máximo letting you know he wants to get dinner tonight. So far, he’s asked for dinner 3 times and for pre-dinner drinks 4 times. You check Página|12, the one news site in the country that understands how oppressed you and other Kirchnerite policians are (but especially you). You see an article about how Federal Justice Claudio Bonadio should be removed from the Iran case because he holds a grudge against you and is very corrupt besides. You share the article and say how hard it is for you that this competent, experienced judge is persecuting you and your family. You get 45 likes and 45 comments agreeing with you and saying that this innocent and ruggedly handsome enforcer of the law of the land should go to hell.
After work you head back to your apartment and do 30 minutes of running on the treadmill with smoke pouring out of your ears while watching the news anchors on TV talk about your criminal behavior. You notice your personal trainer Luciana staring at you from the weights section. She’s pretty hot, but topping you is a privilege that she has to repeatedly earn, so you put your headphones in to listen to the Gladiator soundtrack. You wouldn’t dare take a selfie when you’re done with the treadmill, because you don’t want the public seeing what you look like with most of your eye makeup sweated off. You head off to the water cooler to drink another glass of low-sodium mineral water. Luciana tries to make conversation with you. She’s hot and attractively younger than you, but her last name isn’t Kirchner, so you politely make it clear that you’re not interested (today).
You already have several more likes on your reposted article about angel of justice Bonadio and more comments about how heartless he is to persecute the best president the country has ever had. Máximo has now asked you to go out for dinner with him 6 times. You text him 4 times and organize the night and make sure to use lots of heart emojis. You get home and say hi to your poodle Lolita and ignore your daughter Florencia. She’s 27 and still a vegan. She’s always cared about the environment, stood up for the rights of dairy cows and shit like that. Now her baby daddy dumped her because of how obsessed with soy milk and social justice she is. Maybe if she showed some ambition like you did. You got into politics relatively early on because the electorate noticed how charming, sexy, and honest you are. She was always Dad’s favorite though, and never appreciated you enough before he died. She could be such a selfish bitch sometimes.
You call your 89 year-old mom and tell her that you want to buy a new Birkin bag but don’t want to use any of the funds you’ve thoughtfully embezzled from public works projects. She gives you 6,088,350 pesos that she earned from scamming the Post Office. You say thank you, even though you know you don’t really need it because you recently had a net worth of 80 million USD. You deserve it for simply being Cristina Kirchner.
You decide it’s time to meet up with Máximo. You need protection out on the street though in case the people who have seen through your grating charisma and realize what a sexy piece of shit you really are decide to throw eggs at you again. You text some of Máximo’s buff, Chad friends from La Cámpora to come walk with you. You take fifty selfies and a dozen videos for your YouTube channel while you’re walking down the street. Some men who also happen to work as federal judges and prosecutors call out to you about how immoral you are, and you and your Chad posse laugh hilariously. All these guys aren’t getting laid, right? Like, why do they even bother?
As soon as you get to the restaurant Máximo comes to greet you and plies you with expensive wine. You don’t really plan on staying though because you want to have a private night with your good for nothing Chad son who’s never had a job interview in his life. You make sure to keep his handsome male friends from La Cámpora there so they can protect Máximo’s blubbery body and lack of a law degree too.
After 4 men come to talk to you and tell you they definitely don’t believe that you allegedly ordered the murder of a prosecutor who was about to accuse you of collusion with Iran, which gets them kisses on the cheek from you, you abandon the restaurant and head off down the street with Máximo. People greet him with respect even though he has no degrees from institutions of higher learning and owns 45 SUVs purchased with stolen money. Your Chad bodyguards get in between you and Máximo and the innocent Argentinian citizens who you proclaim to love so much who are demanding you answer for your disgraceful crimes and complete lack of disrespect for our justice system, especially learnèd and powerful Federal Justice Claudio Bonadio. Máximo takes a video of you two walking down the street while ignoring the demands of your countrymen. You can’t stop laughing at how empowered it makes you feel to ignore this persecution. This is great!
At home you and Máximo sit close together on your expensive imported couch and talk because literally no one matters to you other than the degenerates in your family. Máximo tells you how he’s broken up with his latest girlfriend, just another one in a series of girls who look like a broke-ass version of you. You tell him how you approve of this because she was a distraction—Kirchners need to stick together. That’s why you refuse to testify in your court appearance and won’t meet Federal Justice Claudio Bonadio’s eyes when he greets you. Some guys can be so pathetic. Your lawyer Gregorio is texting you. He is a pretty hot Chad and you’ve considered ****ing him to see if that will get you free legal representation and perhaps inspire him to bribe the jury (with his own money, not yours). Your degenerate son Máximo gets jealous so you stop replying. The only thing you love more than defrauding and deceiving an entire country while dressing like an oversexed mom is your son who always seems to get girlfriends even though he has accomplished nothing in life (certainly nothing like going to law school and becoming a Federal Justice, anyway). You make plans to have Máximo spend the night. You ask him which of your apartment’s 5 bedrooms he’d like to sleep in and he says he wants to sleep in yours. Gregorio is still texting you but you have long since stopped replying. Even your Chad lawyer is kind of acting like a loser right now. You tell Máximo that of course he can sleep in your bed with you because he’s such a big strong boy who spends Mommy’s laundered money so well. He is a literally perfect Kirchner. You remember Florencia telling you that it’s weird that Máximo still likes to sleep in your bed at age 40, yet she’s the one sleeping alone tonight. You laugh to yourself. She must be doing something wrong. She’s obviously not worthy of the kind of love you and Máximo share.
After a night as deviant as you are, you wake up to Luciana asking if you’ll have hot girl-on-girl sex with her today, your mom sending you her fraudulent money for your new Birkin bag, and 450 comments on a leaked photo someone took of you on the treadmill saying you look good even with your 45 pounds of mascara smeared all over your face. It’s only 9am. Máximo brings you cake in bed and you post another article trashing the blameless silver fox Federal Justice Claudio Bonadio on all your social media profiles. Today is going to be a good day!
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HI!!! i like to request ALL of the flowery asks! btw i LOVE ur blog and maybe u????? idk 🌸🌸 (jk i love u alot)
who is this????????/ under cut bc i get rambly
azalea: what’s one word that describes you?
lame lmao
baby’s breath: what did you want to be when you were a kid?
honestly? my answer’s like yours jen because i wanted to be an astronaut but also a vet and then a few years later i wanted to be something else of a whole different profession but now i know what reality is like and i have no clue what i wanna be whoops
begonia: are you a messy or clean person?
i hate seeing my desk/workspace be messy but i cant bring myself to clean it up either???? bc im lazy
bleeding heart: has your heart ever been broken?
hMMMMm mmm idk i dont think so
bluebell: do you drink tea or coffee?
i drink tea more than i drink coffee but i drink water more than i drink tea i drink water like. everyday lmao obviously but i drink a lot of water its my brand now
buttercup: what are five things that make you apologetically happy?
what does this mean why is the word apologetically there i cancelled it lmao no negativity in this house
my favorite people (u know who + my friends)
when people answer my anon asks and . they respond with a long reply/seem really happy responding thats my fav fam
this is getting real anime but when i get an UR/4* from scouting
finding an anime/manga/book that perfectly suits my taste
im very tempted to just say water bc idk what else 2 say
calla: what’s your favorite book?
ive only read 3 whole books this year but i recommend all of them
challenger deep - neal shusterman (i could go on about this book for days honestly its so interesting and even though its told by the same person it has two kind of perspectives because there are two settings, that didnt make sense but this book is my new favorite)
see you in the cosmos - jack cheng (i love this one too because its just so warm? made me a little emo but its really good and i love how unique it is, text type wise)
a monster calls - patrick ness (this was something i heard from my school first so i didnt know if i really wanted to get it but its actually pretty good?)
carnation: what are your five most played songs?
i cant really check using the music app bc i added the songs at different timings so itll be inaccurate ill just do most played song from each band/group
again - astro (this is their best song dont @ me)
letting go - day6
all in/stuck - monsta x
death by a strawberry - dance gavin dance
check yes juliet - we the kings
chrysanthemum: what are you afraid of?
i may not b a child but im still afraid of the dark bc my imagination is wild im also afraid of bugs and disappointing others nice oh shit im also afraid of asking for things
daffodil: what’s your astrological sign?
capricorn
dahlia: what’s your favorite band?
this question was made for me its day6
daisy: which ‘friends’ character do you relate to the most?
ive never watched friends
dandelion: are you an extrovert or an introvert?
in between!!!!!
geranium: how has your day been?
its been good!!! i managed to ask my mum 2 take me to hair place so i can get it cut finally and im working on updating my tumblr pages and doing all my tags
hydrangea: what’s your dream job?
pass
iris: who’s your celebrity crush?
pass
lavender: what’s one of the best gifts you’ve ever received?
oH FUCK FAM my friends got me a kermit toy for my birthday i lvoe it 2 dEATH
lily: what’s something you’ve achieved that you’re really proud of?
i got first in my class once wow amazing that was 2 years ago i wish i was as good as the me from 2 years ago
marigold: what would you like to do more of, but don’t ?
well i want 2 b more hardworking but guess thats too late
morning glory: are you an early bird or a night owl?
now that school is over and i have no reason to wake up early ive become neither which is saddening because... i like waking up at 7am on weekends and doing things early but now i wake up at like 9-10am and i still sleep at 11pm
orchid: what’s the last movie you saw?
i really dont remember?? maybe uh guardians of the galaxy?? i dont remember who i watched it with and when but it was good actually i remember who i watched it with nvm
pansy: do you believe in love at first sight?
i dont really believe in romantic love anymore
peony: what does your url mean?
chicken fetus means an egg
periwinkle: what are you thankful for?
god get ready folks im gonna go on my biggest boxy rant ever...
so boxy is my friend who ive been mutuals for over a year and our first common interest is love live and haikyuu so we had that to talk about but im bad at keeping conversations with ppl on tumblr so that ended quickly but earlier this year or late last year i made a twitter and told people on here about it and she followed me and i didnt really mind/pay attention to the stuff she posted/rted uNTIL. until that fateful day... june 25th... at like 8pm? she rted a pic of mister brian kang with dumb minion glasses on and ok maybe i do believe in love at first sight? bc wow!!!!! whos this dumbass with minion glasses and the fluffiest hair ??? so i slide into boxy’s dm.. expecting an explanation and she gives me a good one saying how brians from a band (i would later find out), day6 and im not a fan of kpop, never have been.. ive only watched like some kpop mvs bc i love my friends so i expect myself to listen to them and get over them as soon as im done. boxy my friend, bless HER she sends me all of their mvs from congratulations to i smile and i watch the first one - i smile and me? i start smiling and i can feel myself getting excited because holy fuck theyre a band! they play fucking instruments??? and at this point im already whipped then i move onto how can i say and that shit blew my mind let me tell you.. so because of boxy... i get to where i am now, proudly stanning 3 groups and if it were not for her i wouldve never gotten into mx as well... boxy is just?? really important to me her impact is just that great?? so im super!! sUPER thankful for her and i dont think she’ll ever see this but boxy i love u thank u so much!! boxy gave me more than one reason to live, and not just exist?? without her i wouldve never been able to make so many (like 2 but hEY) new friends and this probably got so long idk im just really thankful for boxy thank u lord for blessing us with boxy (@/youngkwhom on twitter) (kittenma on tumblr) i hope shes happy forever and i also hope she has good days for the rest of her life?? boxy deserves it i lvoe u boxy
petunia: where were you ten years ago?
10 years ago i was like 6 probably watching pokemon or some shit and getting glasses
poinsettia: where would you like to be in ten years?
dead thanks
poppy: what’s your online persona?
i dont understad the meaning of persona but an egg??????
rose: who’s the last person you spent quality time with?
all my classmates in an exam hall for 2 hours, quality time indeed
snapdragon: what are your goals?
pass
sunflower: what’s your favorite quote?
i think i had one before but i forgot so maybe it wasnt my favourite lol idk i dont have one now
tulip: if you had three wishes, what would you wish for?
for all of my favourite people to be happy forever
a good future
i want astro, mx and day6 to get an award for all of their hardwork thanks
violet: what’s one thing most people don’t know about you?
i was gonna say smth negative but lets not hm m m i? ?? ill put smth irl ppl probably dont know either uh hhh i guess?? that i eat a lot?? but also get full really quickly but then really hungry right after that idk thanks digestion
zinnia: do you believe in magic?
no ????/ idk is there any evidence that magic exists
JEN !!! thank u so much for asking even tho u probably asked just to get back at me but this was still fun ask memes will never get boring bro,. i love u and i hope u have a good evening also i love ur blog too moon anon probably already told u
to anyone who actually bothered reading through this mess - thank you and i hope you have a good day/night too!!
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💕 crush stories p4 💕
My relationship with my crush is a little complicated lol she's the softes bean ever and has a lot of problems she doesn't wants to talk about and I'm the only one who's there for her but last year everything just went down because i needed a friend to be there for me but she treated me like shit so i turned to another friend and we started dating. While i was in this relationship my crush got a boyfriend (who treats her like shit) After 6 month of dating my gf me and my crush became best friends again and i spent a lot of time with her. I broke up with my gf last week because i had to realise we only dated because we were both lonely. Now I'm back at pining over the smallest cutest girl in the whole world while i have to take care of her or she would probably die dnkdks i actually got her to watch httyd with me as her bf was being an ass and she loved it even tho she usuall hates animation movies lol
you’re right this is complicated lmao so she’s still with her bf ??? even though she’s cute and has her own problems you don’t deserve to be treated like shit so i hope you cleared up whatever that was,,, i suggest you take a little time to enjoy being single before you start thinking about dating this crush now because i’ve seen people date for the sake of not being lonely and it usually isn’t good in the long term but good luck!! and i don’t know how bad her bf is but she should dump him
He's not texting since 3 days ago (our first date)... I think i don't like him any more 💔😭 we've been friends for 5 years...
:’( either he treats you better or you drop him bc you deserve better than that ♡
I think im a little strange, there's a guy that i like(a lot) he is really cool, funny and smart, but i think he is gay. Rather than i'm being sad or something alike, i ship him with his friend, but i still liking him. I'm getting crazy :')
ohhhh does he actually like his friend though or do you just ship them because you think he’s gay ?
aaa, so i've liked this guy for almost 3 months and i did the Thing where i told him (which never happens, because i'm usually way too shy and i tend to want to tamp my feelings back to nothing). that night, we spent hrs walking blocks and blocks and he told me he doesn't like anyone atm, which i understood 100%. after that, it really wasn't bad and we actually hung out at a lookout point for a few more hrs into the morning before he took me home. he's the first person in a while that made me feel so nervous, excited, fluttery, good about myself in a long time. i think (i hope) that i'll be over him soon - at the end of it all, he's still a good friend. the butterflies haven't left yet though - my lil heart won't stop hoping and he's not gonna stop being cute and gosh darn attractive and lovely anytime soon 😫 (ty for letting me rant through this! you're one of my favorite blogs 💝)
THIS IS SO CUTE ahh im glad you went for it!! even though he told you he didn’t like anybody it’s better that you know and don’t spend all this time being hung up on him and wondering about What Ifs so i’m happy for you ♡ he sounds like such a nice friend though so i’m glad you have a person like him in your life and hope that you get over him asap (and thank you !! you’re so sweet 💖)
My crush is an asshole who played push and pull with me for 3 years and recently decided to declare that he likes me, but he's still not sure about us. He said, i quote: 'what if i ask you out and then change my mind' . So we're at square one again😂 he is such an attractive guy, i can't give up on him😭
NO no matter how cute he is you should get rid of him omg what an asshole-ish thing to say,,, trust me even if it’s hard at first you’ll be way happier when you’re over him !! he doesn’t deserve you!!!! ♡
My crush is actually in Korea for the summer (no lie, he's an exchange student at my school). He's so adorable and sweet, but we almost never talk or hang out, and whenever we do I'm always the one to initiate :c Just trying to be optimistic and open about everything rn :s
optimism is good!! hopefully it isn’t because he isn’t interested or already has someone but i guess the best way to find out is always to hint at it or outright ask about his love life ??
Does it count if my crush and I recently married? lol because even though he is my husband not a day goes by that my heart does not flutter with something he does. Wether it be hugging, hand holding or even a smile directed my way, I still get butterflies like crazy. He is the most kind caring and thoughtful person I have had the pleasure of meeting. He is silly and loves laughing. He has the most beautiful eyes and smile I have ever seen. But maybe I'm just being biased lol I love my crush 💜
AWWW CONGRATS ON YOUR MARRIAGE this is so nice ✨✨✨ i love this n hope you’re happy together for As Long As You Both Shall Live
The last time I had an actual full blown crush on someone it was in seventh grade and Jesus Christ let me tell you I was so dramatic over it?? The dude's initials are M.J and I once burst into tears cause I saw the letters on my tv once and we had these letter stickers back then so I put M and J together next to the Pc and whenever someone asked about it I was like it's Michael scofield bc that was back when prison break was ongoing. God I cringe so much now when I look back at it lmaoooo
you burst into tears when you saw his initials fjngjnfjgfn
Okay so my crush is a girl and omfg, she's so pretty?? Her hair falls just above her shoulders and she has brown hair & brown eyes and I take most of my classes with her, but we have the most fun in German, Economics & Managment and Organisation. So she has a lot of... character (idk lol). She is hella stubborn and takes shit from no one but so do I so we banter and insult each other A LOT, but it's always playful so we never feel insulted. But the thing is that i'm a girl too And I didn't even know I liked girls too until I met her lol (so now i'm a closet bi girl). But the thing that gives me hope is that we low key flirt? We send each other snaps stating how much we love each other and always call each other bae/babe etc. I know girl friends do this but it's different I don't even act that way with my best friend and neither is she? And she once confessed to me that she kissed a girl when she was really drunk, but didn't feel anything with it And once we were hanging out with friends, she was drunk and this guy was lying on top of her (a friend who gets real touchy when drunk, but it was all good no harassment of some sorts) she like kept calling me to help, nothing real big. But she also got jealous once when I send a snapchat to her best friend (she was with her @ the time) & she was like why didn't you snap me? So i'm really confused and idk if she likes me too? Sorry for the ramble :(
i relate to this so much lmao i found out i was bi through my first gf too so this all sounds AWFULLY familiar,, i’ll just say if you joke about being in a r/s all the time it’s a sign that you should level it up to a real one but from what you’re telling me i have a good feeling about this!! i hope she really is into you and that you end up dating ❤ (and that you keep me updated whoops)
so im in marching band and there's this one guy in color guard who's really good and the way he can move his body is just like impossible to look away from? and he's really attractive like the other day he was wearing a shirt that had kind of a low neckline and his collarbone was really prominent and i just ahhh??? im not sure if he knows i exist but he's just really attractive help
I LOVE IT I HOPE HE NOTICES YOU AND IT’S LOVE @ FIRST SIGHT
im crushing on this guy for over 3 years. he is a meanie but i like him a lot :') this past week he confessed and said he liked me. but he is not sure if he wants a relationship. we even went out on something like a date :D im very confused rn ahahaha
you need to be clear with this kind of stuff in a r/s so just ask him!! trust your gut though, no matter how much you like him i think that if you don’t think you’ll be happy dating him then just don’t do it :’( ♡
Hey it's the anon that may or may not be gay who has a crush on the girl named Ramona. So.... I think I fucked up. A few friends of mine threw this huge party this weekend and I made sure to tell Ramona so she'd go (I mean goody2shoes at a party come on how cute is that?) So about an hour or 2 into the party she shows up with some friends and I hang around her most of the night, and when I'm not WITH her I made sure I knew where she was. See the part where I messed up is that Im not the best with alcohol... And I drank a bit much. Now I remember kissing Ramona. And that's it. However according to some friends I kissed her she slapped me I pushed her... into the pool and she left crying. Now its Monday and she wont look me in the eye (it's lunch rn and English is next) what do I do?!? I'm an obvious drunk asshole, BUT THATS THE THING! I was DRUNK! I mean I wanna apologize but I can't even get close to her with her friends there
NOOOOO oh my god you really did fuck up ;; can’t you text her asking if you guys can talk ?? tell a friend what happened and hope she’ll understand and let you explain?? honestly i have no idea but i hope you sort it out and let her know how sorry you are but also don’t beat yourself up too much!! accidents happen even if they are bad, it’s ok in the end as long as you apologise,,,,, good luck ♡ and don’t drink around her again ;;
#ask game#these are the last ones i have rn lmao#u can send more if u want !! and bc i love reading them but ill just publish now#unless it's a follow up then u Have To tell me what's going on#also disclaimer i have No idea what im talking abt so u can ignore me kfnjdknfj
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Kings Masterlist
Kings Part Four:
Camille sighed as she looked around the slowly emptying bar. With the witches preparing for Roman’s arrival and Marcel protecting them business was slow but still pretty exhausting with just Camille and the chef in the back who had bunked off and hour before hand.
After a while Camille sat down to read, the only sound was the gentle chatter of regulars while rain pattered down the window. She smiled when her phone lit up and she received a long-rambled text about something irritable that Klaus had done followed by several of how sweetly he’d made it up to you.
For some reason a sudden feeling of dread settled into Camille’s body, which was when she looked up to find Roman leaning on the bar, smirking at her. She hadn’t heard him come in and no one seemed to notice him.
“Hello Camille.” He drawled making her clench her jaw.
“Why are you here Roman?” Camille sighed, glancing around to see if there was anyone who could over power Roman if he decided to turn on her and the regulars.
“(Y/N).” He snapped, glaring at her as she fixed him with a blank look of careful calmness.
“What about her?” Camille sighed and watched as the boy tried desperately to remain calm.
“I know she’s here Camille, she isn’t with Tyler so she’s got to be here with you.” He smirked again when she glanced at the door as a couple walked in and took a seat near the window.
“I knew where she was this morning, I don’t know where she is now.” Her reply frustrated Roman to the point of him jerking money out of his coat and slamming it onto the counter.
“Tell me where she is.” Roman slid the money across to her but she remained silent, staring at him blankly as the door opened again but this time Klaus walked in and Camille could only hope Roman wouldn’t notice him but Klaus seemed determined to make this worse.
“Well look at that, my favourite bar serves children, pretty unethical Camille.” Klaus called, smiling to himself when Roman shot him a look.
“We’ll make it a grand, tell me where she is.” Roman snapped, sliding more money over to Camille who shook her head.
“Leave or I’ll call someone one who will make you leave.” She warned and the look in her eyes told Roman that she would so he growled under his breath and pushed off the bar, childishly storming out to his car which was pulled up onto the curb.
“Well I’m sorry about him, so Hayley… Jackson, you’ve worked with the Godfrey’s?” Klaus asked the two wolves as he sat down in front of them.
“No, my cousin lives in Hemlock Grove and knows their illegal dealings pretty well but everything above board isn’t really dumped in the woods for wolves to find.” Jackson sighed, watching Hayley stare out of the window until Roman’s car squealed away from the pub.
“Why is he here?” She asked Klaus who tutted as he sighed.
“He believes he’s misplaced something in the city.” The answer wasn’t enough to stop her suspicions but it was enough for both wolves to realise that Roman could potentially be sticking around.
“Look none of us want Roman here, we’re willing to help you get rid of him but we don’t want him to know the packs involved… the Godfrey’s aren’t exactly known for living in peace with wolves.” Jackson grumbled and Klaus nodded.
“For now, I need to gage how long he plans on staying and figure out how to get rid of him but your compliance is greatly appreciated… well as long as you can get along with the vampires and witches but seeing as you love my city as much as I do I’m sure that won’t be a problem.” Klaus smiled with a look of mischief in his eyes and Jackson had to grip Hayley’s arm.
“Your city?” She asked.
“Yes mine, now run along and play the good puppy and I’ll see if Marcel will lift the ban on werewolves in the quarter.” He motioned them to leave which they both did, chuckling when he heard Hayley angrily ranting as they walked away.
“Wow, (Y/N) being stolen from you might actually unite the factions of New Orleans.” Camille hummed sarcastically as she brought Klaus a drink. “How will the wolves react when they find out he’s here for your girl?”
“I have no doubt that they already know, but they also know what the Godfrey’s are capable off and wouldn’t dare hand her over.” Klaus smiled smugly to himself.
“I suppose you are the lesser of two evils.” She sighed and sat opposite him. “I had hoped she’d fall for Tyler, they get on and he care for her…”
“Ah yes but I believe he was, as he put it, friend zoned.” Klaus muttered, both laughing as they watched the rainy city.
TO Tags: @nettuskainen, @justfangstvdto-mia, @daddyobrienx, @proffesionalfangirl223, @laserchick101, @myangelarcade, @kellinsbesitos, @dionnemaria, @eternalmikaelson, @werewolvesplunderedourcameras, @brok3nsurvivor, @raggedymans-lover, @heyitssilverwolf, @sawyerjeann, @a-perks-of-being-a-ravenclaw, @yourphotographyteen16, @diva8302, @bookswillfindyouaway, @holyfuckinghale1975, @updradebitch, @peice-of-whoops, @thequeen0fh3ll, @penguimo10, @megs4real, @lolsavheda, @littlemsdemon, @cheydenise5sos, @anoriginalvampirediary, @cutepuppy1303, @alexa040004, @just-your-average-fangirl07, @laeyly, @5seconds-of-fandoms, @akshi8278, @langdonsgun, @geekoftv , @emmabaker34, @awkwardlyadorkablepanda, @frenchtherainbow, @fashionlive15, @drewkelliii, @galaxychipmunk, @unic0rn-taking-0ver-th3-world, @therealmrshale, @sad-eyes-smiling-lips, @icharleecongreve, @mikealsonlover, @wrapbuckyinablanket , @totallovelesson, @cantdealwithyourshitcarl, @miikayywhocares, @evillightwood, @shayx5, @imnotafraid4, @typicalweirdbookworm, @sheridandwyer, @fangirling-over-all, @zachmantle, @isabellanagasaka, @ogstydiashipper, @givemesomehybrid
Hemlock Grove tags: @penguimo10, @shee-it-skarsgard, @sydneyhlove, @5seconds-of-fandoms, @brok3nsurvivor , @totallovelesson, @evillightwood, @imnotafraid4
#klaus mikaelson imagine#klaus mikaelson imagines#klaus mikaelson x reader#roman godfrey imagine#roman godfrey#kings#klaus mikaelson#the originals#hemlock grove
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