#i always let the person cut their own cards but then i draw the cards

[allroseshave-their-pricks]

my least favorite part of the [redacted] saga so far :)

[princessbrunette]

conversing with the kook drug dealer wasn’t exactly how you’d expected to spend your time at this party — but here you were, stood outside a locked bathroom door as the party ensues downstairs, waiting for your friend to finish throwing up all of her shots whilst none other than rafe cameron kept you company.

the older boy leans against the wall as you make small talk — his demeanour oddly chill. infact, more chill than you’d seen him before. you were guessing it was more of a weed night than it was coke.

you fix your hoop earring, tilting your head as you stare up at him in intrigue.

“so what do you do, rafe?” you converse sweetly and he inhales, reaching up to scratch behind his head like he was struggling with an answer.

“i told you. deal that yayo. someone’s gotta get the good shit round here—”

“no like what else do you do? for fun?”

rafe stops in his tracks for a moment, a smirk biting at the corner of his mouth at the innocent nature of your question. it wasn’t often someone asked him something like that — so whilst he wasn’t usually a fan of small talk, you were cute, and he couldn’t help but want to entertain the conversation. rafe leans against the wall some more, blowing out air and shaking his head.

“i uh, i’m boring baby i smoke, i deal i make money n’that’s about it. not much to it i’m uh… i’m afraid.”

you get all clammy and adorable over the ‘baby’ nickname, smiling and clasping your hands together like a little doll before he’d even finished talking. “oh okay!” you respond, seeming happy enough with his non-answer, and there’s even a pause — you seeming completely unphased by the gap in conversation as you continue to gaze up at him with giddy smile before the moment is interrupted by the door flying open and your friend bolting out— back towards the party.

your head whips round to watch her, probably about to ask her where on earth she was going — but your wonder is quickly remedied by her yelling out an incoherent confession regarding her heading back to grab more shots.

you let her go, deciding someone will get to her first — before you turn back and watch rafe swagger into the bathroom, quickly checking himself in the mirror before turning his body round to look back at you.

“you wanna… you wanna see how i do it?” he licks his lips, not too sure where this was going — but he knew he wasn’t ready for the interaction to end.

being the easy going person you are, you shrug with a happy smile — following him in and shutting the door. “sure!”

the two of you stand at the sink, and you watch the way the taller cameron boy fishes in his pocket, pulling out a baggie of white powder.

“i thought dealers weren’t supposed to get high on their own supply?” you pout questioningly through the mirror and he lets out a quiet chuckle at the use of the cliche saying.

“yeah uh, they’re not. but i gotta wake the hell up… n’plus i’ve got my hands on some of the best shit this side of the island. would be a crime not to sample my own goods, right?” he drawls as he prepares the line on the white marble, the movements almost second nature to him like he’d done it a bazillion times. you watch in intrigue, tilting your head. “smoked a shit tonne of weed before this so… not sure it’s gonna cancel out that mellow high. we’ll see.” he glances up at you through the mirror, talking in a knowledgable manner, leaving with you but no choice but to nod along in interest. your curiosity always did lead you to odd situations.

you watch as he cuts the powder into a thin line with his credit card before leaning over the sink and snorting it up. in the most nonjudgmental way one could muster, you blink up at him as he draws back, sniffing and wiping his nose like it pained him.

“woo, shit.” he coughs a little, shaking himself off before clearing up the residue and pocketing the baggie, moving around you to wash his hands and push his hair back in the mirror. “your friends don’t do coke?” he chats, seeming a little more amped than before, pupils dilated in his reflection.

“they do. just not around me. i dunno why.” you shrug a shoulder and he chuckles a little harder than necessary at the comment.

“yeah… you’re the innocent one huh?” he turns back to you, and you eye his pocket in interest with a hum.

“maybe i could change that. can i try some?”

surprisingly, rafe winces — wiping his hands on his pants, eyeing you.

“uh… nah, kid. you wouldn’t like it. trust me, shits not good for you.” he walks to the door, opening it and holding it open for you to walk through. you’re quickly distracted by the gentlemanly act and smile, though he mainly did it to get a look at your ass as you walk through. “why don’t you run along n’get another drink though, a’ight? you’ll know where to find me.” he briefly passes a hand over your lower back as he scooches past you in the slim hallway, looking over his shoulder as he heads off to find some clients to sell to.

you pout for a moment, feeling dismissed — but little did you know, rafe had listened to that quiet voice in his head that he usually ignores. the one that told him ‘leave that girl alone.’

[rainerioun]

𝖶𝖧𝖠𝖳 𝖣𝖮𝖤𝖲 𝖸𝖮𝖴𝖱 𝖥𝖴𝖳𝖴𝖱𝖤 𝖲𝖯𝖮𝖴𝖲𝖤 𝖫𝖮𝖮𝖪 𝖫𝖨𝖪𝖤? | 𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗄 𝖺 𝖼𝖺𝗋𝖽.

— Hi! Apologies for being a bit inactive lately. Been tied up with stuff, but I'm back with a reading for you all! Today, we'll delve into what your future partner could look like. Remember, just take whatever resonates with you. This reading is more so about what sticks out to you when reading.

ORIGINAL DATE POSTED : APRIL 26TH, 2024.

HOW TO CHOOSE A PILE : The outcome may vary based on whether you receive clear messages visually or intuitively. If you resonate more with selecting a pile visually, trust that inclination. Personally, I believe the notion that 'looks can deceive,' so I prefer to take a deep breath and close my eyes, allowing the pile I'm meant to connect with to come to me. You might see the color of the pile, sense or hear a number, or simply feel its overall vibe.

Please don’t redistribute or edit my content.

MUST READ + MASTERLIST | KO-FI

PILE ONE

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Virgo.

Your future partner likely has an oval face shape with a more narrow jawline and chin, contrasted by prominent cheekbones. They're likely to have a slender physique, though proportionate in any case.

Tarot. — Six of Swords.

They give off a moody or unassuming vibe, seeming as though they don't express much. Yet, they're quite proactive in changing their appearance, whether it's their style, hair, or even their athleticism. However, they'll always maintain that aloof, 'leave me out of it' demeanor.

Additional. Hermit — Light : Seeks solitude to focus intently on inner life. Serves personal creativity. Shadow : Withdraws from society out of fear or negative judgements of others. Refusing to help those in need.  Pioneer — Light : Passion for doing and creating what has not been done before. Shadow : Compulsive need to keep moving on.

As I mentioned earlier, they are constantly undergoing physical changes in some way. They have an introverted and withdrawn aura. They could let their hair grow out and become a bit scruffy before impulsively cutting it off. They maintain a rather deadpan expression when simply existing in their own world. The image of Edward Cullen specifically came to mind when pulling the cards.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. High Cheekbones, Heart Shaped Face, Pale Skin, Brown Eyes, Curly Hair, Cat Beauty, Honey Eyes, Thin Eyebrows.

Yes, very vampire allure-esque indeed. Their eyes could appear normally brown but take on a honey-like glow under certain lighting. Their eyes are quite striking, considering they have feline type features. Although hair color didn't come up during the reading, I pictured them with dark hair that complements their skin tone.

Apocalypse : Cigarettes After Sex.

PILE TWO

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Leo.

Of course, they possesses striking hair like a lion's mane—thick, unruly, perhaps even a bit frizzy, something that immediately catches one's eye, possibly long in length. Their eyes are equally intense, matching their strong jawline. They exude a fierce appearance that naturally draws attention, whether they seek it or not.

Tarot. — Four of Wands [Reversed].

Your future spouse might have a more mature-looking face compared to yours or for their age. They appear quite stressed, with heavy eyes and noticeable wrinkles, particularly around their eyes, such as crow's feet and frown lines.

This aspect also reflects in their demeanor. They might carry an air of disappointment, even if they don't necessarily feel that way—it's just a testament to what they've been through. They tend to go for neutrals in their clothing choices, not leaning towards vibrant styles. Despite appearing restless, they naturally possess an attractive charm.

Additional. Mystic — Light : Revels in intimate union with the Divine. Shadow : Delusional rapport with the Divine. 

They have a divine look to their appearance, regardless of their modest and simple attire or styling. There's a hint of mystique about them, but I feel it leans more towards a deity-like appearance rather than a witchy vibe. I imagine your future partner resembling a god/goddess, genuinely embodying timeless beauty.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Below Average Height, Legs, Medium-Length Hair, Prominent Mouth, Broad Nose, Copper hair, Medium Skin.

Your future spouse has a complexion you'd deem as medium-toned. When it comes to their hair, I envision it falling somewhere between medium to long length. Though a single color came out, you could interpret it as having hints of orange or red tones instead. Their mouth is defined by sharp, pointed features, while their nose possesses a broad, perhaps even slightly downturned shape.

Bernadette : IAMX. | Lucky Drive : Sarah Kinsley. | Who Is She? : I Monster. [ I think these songs perfectly describe their vibe. ]

PILE THREE

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Aries.

Your future spouse has distinct/sharp, broad features with thick eyebrows framing their face. Freckles, beauty marks, or subtle scars might adorn their face, too. Their shoulders are broad and sturdy. They could be tinged with red in some way. It could be in their complexion with rosy cheeks, hair, eyes, or they just wear a lot of red. Despite a muscular build, they still have curves, whether it's slim hips and wider thighs or a smaller waist and broader hips.

Tarot. — Three of Wands [Reversed].

It seems they may have a serious RBF, often appearing quite frustrated or impatient. There's a strong and confident demeanor about them. When envisioning their build or expression, I see Rhea Ripley 100%.

Additional. Hero/Heroine — Light : Passion for a journey of personal empowerment. Shadow : Escapism and a false sense of heroism. 

When we typically imagine heroes, we picture them as polished and composed. However, behind the curtain, they bear the marks of their struggles, with visible signs of stress etched into their body. Your future partner will be this way. Peel back their layers, and you'll uncover scars, calluses, and an overall roughness.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Gray Eyes, Hawk Nose, Thick Nose, Scars, Thighs, Neutral Tone, Square Shaped Face, Hands.

What did I say about scars? It popped up three times at this point. Their skin tone has a neutral undertone, not warm or cool. Their nose is large and hooked. And those gray eyes? Unwavering. You could simply like their thighs and hands specifically, or there's something significant about them.

Hey Sexy Lady : Shaggy. | Blood Sweat & Tears : BTS.

PILE FOUR

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Pisces.

Your future spouse has round, soft lips, with dewy skin and eyes shining with tenderness. They have a dreamy aura, perhaps lost in thought at times. Their hair may tend towards the finer side. I envision them as 'dainty' and clumsy.

Tarot. — Four of Wands [Reversed]. | The Star.

The Star card suits them perfectly. They radiate both warmth and serenity, their presence quite calming. This reflects in their appearance, with a lively step and a clear sense of purpose in all they do. They have a whimsical charm, very cute!

Additional. Child : Orphan — Light : Independence based on learning to go at it alone. Conquering fear of surviving. Shadow : Feelings of abandonment that stifle maturation. Seeking inappropriate surrogate families.

In terms of aesthetic, your future spouse has a more colorful style. They appear youthful without seeming childish, dressing without fear and staying true to themselves, free from judgment.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Alternative, Sparse Eyebrows, Long Eyelashes, Waist, Slim, Small Eyes, Green Eyes, Bald, Masculine.

This aligns with what I was getting at. They definitely have an alternative style. Although the energy initially felt 'feminine,' masculine came out. So, I believe this person is deeply connected to both aspects. They might also identify as queer. And while they could actually be bald, I heard in it a joking tone, given their naturally thin hair.

The Shining : The Neighbourhood. | Confidence : Ocean Alley.

PILE FIVE

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Capricorn.

Your future spouse is somewhat lanky but has hidden strength, almost described as lithe. They carry an almost stern and steady gaze, radiating seriousness and maturity. Their bone structure is striking, too. Unlike typical Capricorns, they move with a deliberate slowness, calculated in their actions. They are an alluring person. — I forgot to add that they have nice teeth!

Tarot. — Knight of Pentacles [Reversed].

I picture your future spouse as having a disheveled and unkempt appearance, but in a somehow intentional and controllable manner—it's a bit hard to put into words. Think of someone like Hozier in terms of what I mean. They might give off a slightly lazy energy, dressing in loose-fitting clothes. I don't think they enjoy changing their appearance much and prefer to stick to the same style. I imagine they lean towards neutral or dark colors, something easy on the eyes.

Additional. Messiah — Light : Serving humanity with humility. Shadow : Exaggerated belief that you are the only means through which a cause can succeed. 

This person is confident, fully aware of their own charm. I envision them with darker skin and dark hair. If you're attracted to men, I imagine them having some form of facial hair, perhaps a beard.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Eye Bags, Light Freckles, Prominent Nose, Full Lips, Short Hair, Dark Skin, Olive Skin, Monotone Voice, Puppy-Dog Eyes, Brown Hair.

I think your future spouse aims for that bad boy vibe but doesn't quite nail it. They naturally give off that vibe, but they try a bit too hard to make it obvious. Perhaps they have freckles that become more visible in the summer or are barely noticeable. They aren't very expressive with their voice, but their eyes more than compensate for it, being a bit pouty, too. As for their hair, while I initially pictured it as long, it likely varies based on personal preference since short hair came out. Generally, they have a darker appearance overall.

Beautiful Is Boring : BONES UK. | Judas : Lady Gaga. | Too Sweet : Hozier.

PILE SIX

Zodiac Dice Roll. — Sagittarius.

Your future spouse has a wider face and a welcoming, cheerful demeanor. I see them with a cute button nose, sparkling eyes, and a pretty smile. They are bubbly and curious, with chubby cheeks and a curvier frame. Their expression reminds me of Armin Arlert. AHHH, I LOVE ARMIN! I HAD TO BRING HIM UP. T-T

Tarot. — Ace of swords [Reversed].

This person tends to get easily distracted, often appearing spaced out. Their appearance mirrors their emotions, reflecting whatever they're feeling that day. They're not one to settle on a particular style, constantly changing their look.

Additional. Shape-Shifter — Light : Skill at navigating through different levels of consciousness. Ability to see the potential in everything. Shadow : Projecting any image that serves your personal agenda in the moment. 

Yeah, they seem like a real shape-shifter. Always evolving, whether it's their physical appearance or their mindset. One day they might be all about frills and pastels, and the next they're wearing dark, sleek attire.

Specifics. — Take What Feels Right. Hazel Eyes, Button Nose, Tattoos, Neutral Tone, Fingers, Freckles, Hips, Round Shaped Face, Slim Nose.

It's kind of spooky how tarot readings can be so consistently on point with their messages. Hazel eyes were mentioned, but even if not, they have lighter eyes. They might have tattoos, but I'm not sure of what. You might find yourself drawn to their fingers or hips. I envision them as more heavy-set.

Primadonna : MARINA. | Paris, Texas : Lana Del Rey. | Black Friday : Tom Odell.

[ozarkthedog]

𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞

summary: it's been years since Dieter last saw you, his childhood friend and the unrequited love of his life. still, he doesn’t blame you for leaving.

pairing: Dieter Bravo x gn!childhood friend!reader

warnings: angst but with a happy ending! mentions of drug use and alcohol but nothing graphic. w.c: 1.0k

an: for @punkshort AU August writing challenge, I was given the prompt, “childhood friend with Dieter Bravo” thank you so much for hosting! huge thanks to @ghotifishreads for letting me talk your ear off about this little idea that took on a life of it's own and for reading this over. ilu!

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋅ 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐫𝐲 ⋅ 𝐃𝐢𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐁𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐨 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭

Dieter rubs a hand over his face as he steps from the SUV into a throng of flashing lights and frantic screaming. It was the premiere of his first directorial and writing debut; a lot was riding on this.

Sure, he'd won an Oscar and various other award nominations, but this was an entirely different beast. This movie was special to him. It was the first script he wrote after getting "clean." He always scoffed at that word. Clean. Was he pure and holy now simply because he kicked hard drugs to the curb?

He takes a deep, slow breath, adjusts his velvet purple suitcoat, and moves down the red carpet. He autographs cards and pictures, takes selfies, and banters with a few fans before moving on to the press.

It doesn't feel right being here alone, he thinks, his left side feeling raw and exposed like a wound that never healed. 

After rewriting the script several times, he has his assistant mail it to a few studio execs before having them print out one last copy. He wrote down your name and told them to send you the script. He wanted to deliver it to you in person; it felt like the right thing to do, but he couldn't be sure you ever wanted to see him again after what he put you through.

He's stronger these days. Mentally and physically healthier. He's lost a bit of weight now that he's no longer downing pills and chasing them with alcohol. It took him a while to get used to feeling again. Sitting with the uncomfortable thoughts and not letting them take control. He's proud of himself. He thinks you would be, too. 

You.

Seeing a large open field littered with red flowers while driving home from rehab for the second time kicked him square in the gut. Flashes of his youth came back in vivid, blinding colors.

Chasing his dog, Dali, around the yard. Playing with you in the field of wildflowers behind your house. His throat tightens.

You.

You were his reason. The sun he revolved around—inseparable childhood friends.

When you first met Dieter, he was covered in chalk dust, drawing funky, green aliens with big eyes on the sidewalk in front of his childhood home. You'd just moved in next door, and your Mother told you to go make friends. He looked at you in awe as you stood before him, the sun creating a golden crown around your head. "Wanna be friends?" you blurted before kneeling and pestering him about his chalk alien.

From that moment on, you were forever linked. Dieter never wanted anyone else.

From scabbed knees and hide & seek to strange body changes and long school days. Consoling Dieter after he's pushed into a locker, copying each other's homework, watching Dieter shine on the theater stage, and spending almost every minute together that you could.

He wondered if you ever felt the love he held for you—the love that surpassed sibling bonds and grew stronger every time he laid eyes on you. The love that made him self-conscious and shy away from speaking his truth despite years of yearning. He couldn't convince himself to jeopardize the friendship or that you might possibly feel the same.

Cut to Dieter asking you to move to LA with him to be his assistant once his star power steadily rose. 

To the elaborate movie sets and lavish premieres, to the long nights and unspoken feelings. 

To find Dieter on the floor with vomit spilling from his lips to the empty bottles of pills and booze splayed around his Hollywood Hills home. 

The bickering, the raging parties, and the friendship that was slowly dying. 

The shell of a man he used to be. 

You were never around when he needed you the most after he drowned himself in booze and pills. He never blamed you. He was often inebriated, covered in a mess of sweat and other fluids. You could only stand to see him self-medicate for so long. 

"I can't keep doing this," he remembers you saying as tears welled in your eyes and your bottom lip trembled while he sat in a crumpled heap at the foot of his unmade bed with that usual glazed look. "I can't keep trying to save you."

He remembers wanting to argue, to save whatever piece was left. He tried to chase after you, but his brain and body were still under the haze from the night before, limbs heavy as lead weights, and they no longer listened to his commands. 

How your face twisted with a devastating sadness made his heart shatter. He never meant this to happen, for it to get this bad.

Had Dieter known the repercussions, that the last image he'd have of you would be wiping fallen tears that he caused from your cheeks, he would've gotten clean eons before. He would've let this version of himself die without a second thought. He wanted to be the man you counted on, with your best interests at heart. 

The man you knew him to be.

—

Just as he's about to step into the theater, he hears a voice call his name—a voice that would wake him from the dead. 

You.

His heart aches; it bursts with unnerving energy as he watches you approach. His gaze never leaves you as you glide across the room to where he stands, frozen. Could he be hallucinating?

"Hi D," his nickname sounds like heaven as it leaves your lips. He never wants it to end; he wants to hear it forever. "I'm sorry I didn't reach out sooner. I needed to make sure I was in a good headspace to see you again." You nervously wring your fingers, and Dieter can't stop himself from reaching out and locking your hands together, calming your combined anxious energy.

"It's okay," he whispers, throat tight, holding back elated tears, "I'm glad you're here."

A smile tugs at your lips, eyes shiny with your own tears. "Me too."

feel free to scream at me -> 💌

reblogs & comments are extremely appreciated! follow @ozzieslibrary for new fic updates!

[katelynnwrites]

You Kiss Me In A Way (That’s Gonna Screw Me Up Forever) | Sydney Lohmann

warnings: smut so read at your own discretion

word count: 898

summary: sydney's kisses are something else and have screwed you up forever

a/n: smut for syd that nobody has been writing and that nobody has asked for but was the product of my procrastination yesterday so here you are

Sydney’s always been good at kissing you. She gives tender, loving kisses and soft, affectionate ones. She is amazing at delicate good morning kisses and magnificent ‘I’m sorry’ kisses.

The blonde has gifted you with so many of them over the years. From the messy, exploring ones of your childhood to the smooth and confident ones she grants you with today.

You know she’s spoiled you with them.

She is doing it now, languidly letting her lips slant over yours, leaving you breathless and desperately wanting more.

Her fingers slide themselves into your hair and her hips press against yours in the best way possible.

Syd isn’t a patient person by any means, her collection of yellow cards from arguing with referees can attest to that but she has all the time in the world for you.

Your girlfriend’s lips trace a path down your throat and across your collarbones, drawing needy gasps from you.

She smiles against your skin, moving lower down your body and reaching your stomach.

You tense, your muscles going taunt.

The blonde eagerly scatters more kisses on your exposed skin, adjusting herself as she goes.

Syd eventually reaches the waistband of your sleep shorts and she teasingly slips her fingers under it.

‘Sonnenschein please.’ You whimper.

She laughs, placing placating kisses onto the inside of your thighs.

You groan as she sucks little marks into your skin.

‘Sydney…Sydney please.’ You beg.

Your girlfriend hums, tapping your thigh gently in a way that you know means have patience.

Huffing in frustration, you sink further back into your girlfriend’s bed and bring your arms up to cover your eyes.

‘Hey none of that. I want to see your face.’ The midfielder insists.

She lightly tugs your arms down, giving you one of her ‘I’m sorry’ kisses.

When you open your eyes again, it’s to Sydney smirking cockily down at you.

‘Want to see how pretty you look when I make you come.’

You blush bright pink in response.

The Bayern player then follows it up with teasing kisses and reverent touches, eventually giving you what you want and taking both your shorts and underwear off.

She holds your thighs open, hands both firm and gentle.

‘Love you.’ She promises, right before she properly puts her mouth on you.

Any answer that you were formulating is cut off by the sharp, pleasured gasp that spills forth.

Sydney takes her time, switching between licking and kissing.

Kisses pressed against your clit might be your girlfriend’s way of sending you to heaven.

Your breathy moans of the blonde’s name grow in volume and that spurs her on to fully commit to making you come with her tongue alone.

You are not even aware of your hand finding its way down to Sydney’s head and tugging lightly on her hair until she groans right into you.

The vibrations make you whimper and the German woman takes full advantage. She sucks harshly on your clit, relishing in the way your hips jerk upwards immediately.

‘Syd!’ You cry out.

Your girlfriend continues on, her mouth working wonders. Her hands have tightened their grip on your legs, keeping them as still as she can.

‘Feels so good. S-So good.’ You stutter.

If you weren’t so drawn in by the pleasure the blonde is giving you, you would have rolled your eyes at how pleased she looks with herself.

You moan loudly again as her tongue circles your clit.

The midfielder has completely dedicated herself to your climax now, touching your body in a way only she knows how and pushing you over the edge in a way that only she can.

The whimpers and cries that escape you as soon as that happens make Sydney smile. Her name is mixed into those and she loves how wrecked it sounds as it falls from your lips.

Your girlfriend slowly works you through it, licking you lightly and placing a series of gentle kisses onto your cunt as your thighs tremble around her face.

‘Sonnenschein.’ You sigh contentedly when she finally sits up, wiping your juices off her mouth with the back of her hand.

She grins widely, moving to lie down beside you as you catch your breath. Sydney reaches for your hand and intertwines her fingers with yours, bringing your hand up to her lips so that she can place a kiss onto the back of your palm.

That’s another kind of kiss that she loves giving you.

It’s subtle enough that she can do it on the pitch and on team walks so she does so all the time.

Sydney has ruined you with her kisses, properly screwed you up forever with them.

She has the ability to make your heart race, to steal the air right out of your lungs and to comfort you with them.

You’ll never be able to kiss anyone who isn’t her because there is no one who will be able to make you feel the way you do when your girlfriend kisses you.

She makes you feel safe, protected, cherished and loved. So incredibly loved that it’s like you are the only girl in the whole world.

When your chest finally rises and falls evenly, you squeeze the blonde’s hand before moving to straddle her.

Syd’s pretty eyes widen considerably and you giggle.

‘It’s my turn to help you out of your clothes now no?’

German Translation:

sonnenschein - sunshine

[the-one-who-lambs]

"Propose," for @bamsara

HI YOUR DOODLES INSPIRED ME HERE'S A POETRY ATTACK. rambling below the cut.

At first, the death waltz is a misstep.

A sickening skeletal crack, a shape of an invisible scythe.

Sincerity is too kind a lie, but His sacrosanct

Protection (you think)

Lets you rise once more.

Death cannot keep you, but you would let Him

If he welcomes you.

You only believe what He thinks you should know.

The flames engulf you after the smoke does,

But your soul has nearly shed its corpse when you see them.

You stand in the vast chain-bound sanctuary and breathe

Fully (your lungs don’t remember being choked).

It is the first of a fitful of

Scorn and surprises and bone fingertips pressed against your skin.

He helps you to your feet.

Your heart should not beat here. In the infiniteness of your bosom it awakens.

The very semblance of the jagged-bare flesh

Encircling your neck is an intimacy in itself.

The blissful torment of the swordsman’s blade

Releases (so close to peril)

And He is already in your periphery.

Call it duty. Call it love.

Choose it as the last decision you’ll ever make.

Fate’s a tarot pull. You draw your card with eyes sealed shut.

You are a disgraced, depraved approximation of a person.

The chill of his embrace is warmer than the hands

That build the bonfire. It is in the name of

Someone (you shan’t say who)

And in the ashes of your grief your reflection

Stares back with three eyes.

The temptation to burn yourself seeps out,

Ichor-like. You don’t die tonight, not yet.

A careful drip of poison. The aftertaste of iron

In your mouth: communion seeping into your own goblet.

A moonshine moment of annihilation, however brief

Before (infectious, echoing, comforting)

You bleed out. You hope you die today.

He hopes you die today. It’s an

Ambrosial veil between you.

You slip beneath it with a sweet hello.

It’s never quite intentional until

The myths surrounding Him fall away.

The secrets you keep are shared, kept safe

Until (your reunion, this time, was not quite an accident)

They are intertwined: you are inescapably

Lonely and in your separate spheres

You vie for dominance. It’s a furious, bloodsoaked rendezvous.

It was always He who waited, but you’ll be patient.

He feels you in every dream. You

Stop time with your voices.

It’s His frustration melting away

With your kisses (you’re not there yet)

And makes Him yours, in freedom,

Dependent on nothing nobody you himself

The fetters are invisible but you hear them

Rattling every time your heart beats.

Your breath need not return anymore so you

Relearn to dodge the aim of an arrow, the pierce of a blade.

Living is foul, a promise half-hidden,

Desperate. (It lingers on your tongue.)

Death bound you together. You know how to die.

You have to remind yourself that heaven lays barren.

It will not hold you

Should Death keep you apart.

Get appreciated idiot /pos /lh

So, this was inspired by this post, which was super wholesome and sweet, but I couldn't write this without infusing it with the urgency and anxiety and sense of danger that looms over The Rehabilitation of Death. Bits and pieces of references to your AU are sprinkled in throughout. I hope you (and my readers and your readers as well) enjoy picking apart the themes here!

I actually wrote this live on stream last night! I made sure none of my friends were streaming before I started because I didn't want to miss anyone if someone was already live, but then you started streaming like 10 minutes later and I was like FUCK now I wanna watch you. But after a couple of hours on my new extra-hard CotL save (OUCH), I switched to writing and just... hoped you wouldn't pop in because I wanted this to be a surprise. For most of the writing part of the stream this poem was titled "IF SARA STOPS STREAMING SEND ME A WARNING."

Anyway, we don't usually get to talk more than a couple times per week because we both have Shit To Do, but you are SO FUN to be around and I am so so glad I met you!! Your friendship is a blessing and your creativity is a gift.

Also posted to AO3 as onethirdofimpossible here!

[ceasarslegion]

By the wishes of a few people, here's my advice post about living alone. Keep in mind I'm speaking from the perspective of a canadian urbanite, so this will not apply to absolutely everybody in every kind of culture, economy, living situation, those in rural areas, etc. This also is not assuming wealth disparities are a matter of personal attitude, i KNOW it's complicated. Get back with that shit right now, you know damn well this advice assumes you are able to achieve the financial means to live on your own and is not disparaging anyone who legitimately can't.

Let's cover the basics first.

Source of income:

This seems rather obvious, but your income should be regular and reliably the same or similar on a monthly basis. The most obvious way to achieve this is with a job, and I'm sorry but minimum wage is not going to cut it on your own anymore, which means you're going to have to swallow your pride and accept that you'll likely have to work for some industry or corporation with a dodgy moral record. Get used to it. There is no point in self-flagellation, the world is complicated, just take the 50-60k a year office job, no one actually expects you not to and nobody will hold it against you when the "moral" option is soul-crushing retail. The real world really doesn't give a shit what you have to do to afford a comfortable lifestyle as long as you do what good you can within your abilities, no one in the real world expects you to sacrifice your own wellbeing for a cause.

Salaried positions are your most reliable because you'll always pull the same amount, while hourly pay comes with the ability to pull overtime pay in exchange for more shifts, but if you run out of sick days you'll have to spend the rest of the year taking unpaid time off when you need to call in. Whichever one you choose depends on what's available to you and what's right for you physically and mentally, I can't make that call for you.

You also need a credit card. That is non-negotiable. If you don't have a credit score, you can't sign a lease. Bad credit is better than no credit. We can argue until the cows come home whether or not credit scores are good or bad, but it's just reality that you're going to need one. The good news is it's fairly easy to build credit from no credit: you just have to pay off your credit card in full on time every time. The bad news is it's equally as easy to tank your credit score, you just have to miss one or pay it too late, and it's very hard to build good credit back from bad credit. So don't see it as free money, only spend as much as you can pay back, and if you don't have credit right now, start with small things like lunch and little treats that you immediately pay off.

Looking for a place to live:

Once you have your regular and reliable source of income, you can start looking for your place. There's a few things you should keep in mind:

-Draw up a budget for how much you can spend on rent and bills. That includes all basic living expenses: rent, utilities, food, internet, phone, hygiene. Compare how much you make per month to what you can spend. 1/3 to 1/2 of your salary is a bit more realistic to expect to spend on rent alone nowadays, so work within that range when you apartment hunt. Think of everything when you're budgeting, like how much do you spend on haircuts per month? You probably didn't think of that, because I didn't either at first.

-Apartment buildings with some/all utilities included often have higher base rents. You have to keep in mind that this is so the landlord can balance out the utility bills of the whole building, which are unpredictable expenses and on them to pay every month. If you don't know how to budget yet or don't know how to do so with unpredictable bills, I highly recommend trying to find a place with utilities included so you know EXACTLY how much you'll need to pay every month and can plan in advance

-Older buildings tend to be both cheaper and more likely to have centralized utility systems, which means they have to include it in the price of rent because there's no way to tell who used how much of something. If it's your first place alone, you'll probably be tempted to get the brand new, expensive building down the road, but it won't actually make much of a difference when you move in. You will love it regardless.

-Never ever sign a lease until you've either seen THE unit you're considering, or one of the show units that is exactly the same layout. The last thing you want is to go off online photos only to move in and find out the building has a mold problem. You can arrange personal tours by contacting the building manager or the landlord directly. Phone calls are the best way to do this.

-If you want the unit after seeing it, you know you can afford it, there's nothing funny about the place, apply IMMEDIATELY. Places are usually on the market for a few days before they're snapped up by a new tenant, you have to strike while the iron's hot.

-If you've decided on the place you want and had your application accepted, read the lease carefully before you sign. Many places require tenant insurance that meet specific policy requirements, have registration rules about long-term guests, outline how the parking works, quiet hours, smoking rules, mail, laundry, all the way down to what kind of barbecues are allowed on your deck in the case of mine (I am in a wildfire danger zone, so any types that produce embers are strictly prohibited for fire safety reasons). Ask any question that comes to mind about the lease. Not everything in a lease is some human rights violation just because you don't like landlords, keep in mind you're living in the same building as dozens of other people, so there has to be ground rules established for everyone's sanity.

-Internet is often not considered a utility so you'll have a hard time finding any place that includes it. You can arrange to have your wifi set up in advance of a moving date on a specific time and date, do this right after you sign a lease so you don't forget. They won't charge you until you're actually hooked up to the network.

-If your utilities are NOT included, get those set up in advance too. The main ones are HVAC, water, and electricity. The companies that do this vary depending on where you live and what's available, so shop around online once you've signed your lease and sign up as soon as possible. The last thing you want is to forget this and then move into a dark freezing apartment with no water.

Budgeting:

After your living expenses are covered, you should have a comfortable amount of financial wiggle room leftover. If you wouldn't, the place you're looking at is either too expensive, or you're being overcharged elsewhere. It's completely normal for living expenses to take up most of your budget these days, you're doing just fine in the same boat as everybody else if that's the case, so don't panic yet. If you have absolutely NOTHING leftover though, then you're out of your price range.

You also need to set money aside for fun and saving. Do not forego fun money, your brain will try to kill you with hammers and knives if you never get or do things for yourself. And if you're on your own, you're the only one providing that for yourself now. And a solid building base of savings will only help you in the future, whether you lose your job, have an emergency, or even need a down payment on a house later in life. Don't be a doomer about your circumstances or the socioeconomic and generational cards that were dealt to you, chip away at it a little at a time. And don't fall for social media's insistence that anybody with anything at all is some bourgeois degenerate or that being fortunate enough to be able to have upward mobility makes you some ultra wealthy shithead, working towards a comfortable standard of living for yourself does not make you a rich elite or a bad person. You're working towards the standard we should all live as, not exploiting the poor or being a class traitor. I feel the need to add that last part since we're on the website of "struggling art students in NYC are bourgeois that are just bad with money and having a gaming computer makes you upper middle class." Don't listen to a word any of those people say, I know it comes from a place of very real hurt and pain for them but that doesn't make it grounded in absolute reality for absolutely everybody.

Social needs:

If you're by yourself, there's gonna be a lot more work you have to put in for your social and entertainment needs. I can not stress enough how important it is to give this the time and work it needs, do not neglect this.

Lots of libraries have clubs you can join that will get you out of the house and meeting new people regularly. They're either free or very inexpensive. This is a great place to start.

Take advantage of technology we have now. Hop on discord calls more frequently, make sure you're talking to your friends on the regular and try to make plans as much as you can.

Also, I advise finding lots of things you can do by yourself. You will be spending way more time alone than you ever have before, so find single-person hobbies. Go thrifting, get into knitting, go explore the city, read lots of books, do puzzles, just don't lock yourself inside all day in your free time. Even if you're doing it alone, going out and seeing that the world is bigger than your apartment and your workplace is very good for you.

Misc advice:

You don't need a conventional coffee pot maker. Single serving will suit you just fine.

Cleaning is easier when you have a routine. It doesn't all have to be done on the same day of the week, but having a regular schedule of what gets cleaned when for non-daily chores will help you keep on top of it. And please, god, don't neglect your cleaning and hygiene just because no one lives with you to see it. On that note, spray bottle all purpose cleaners are your best friend for daily spot cleaning and you should deep clean your washroom around every 2 weeks in my experience since that's where you'll be doing most of your personal hygiene. Also make your damn bed, yes you'll just get back into it at the end of the day but having a major part of your space neat and tidy will do wonders for your mental health.

Don't buy the cheap garbage bags. Some things you really do want the expensive shit for.

If you don't have a car, delivery service/rideshare subscriptions ARE worth it and legitimately economical in the long run. I do wanna circle back to square one and say that yes, most of them like prime and uber do have dodgy moral records, but sometimes you just gotta swallow your pride and accept that. Once again, no one in the real world expects you to spend your entire day on public transit looking for toilet paper that isnt 30 dollars a pack or lugging 50 pounds of groceries back on a bus just for a cause. It's not the fault of someone who needs these services for their quality of life that they do the things they do, don't put that responsibility on your or other's shoulders when the fault lies at the top of the corporate ladder.

When you're budgeting for living expenses, expect your income to be at the lowest and your expenses to be at the highest. I expect 2 call ins per month and to need to spend the max amount i have on groceries every time, that way I never fall short and never have to cut into my savings that I've dubbed my "oh shit, I'm broke" money. Your emergency reserve may look tempting to you, but as someone who has been in a position where they had to drain it to nothing in the past because of an unforeseen financial emergency, you REALLY are gonna want that untouched if and when shit hits the fan. Life is unpredictable, prepare to roll with the punches so they don't knock you out.

A few people wanted to be tagged in this, so here you go @lilsnatch and @kisstheashes <3

[am3li420]

Remus Lupin head canons i’ve been collecting for 10+ years

- this hoe loves books, i know that’s a common head canon but let me dive deeper;

- he definitely is checking out matilda level amounts of books from the library every week before going to hogwarts.

- homeschooled by his mother 100% and she would make him write book reports so he learned to love annotating books

- cut to lily seeing him writing in a book in 1st year and being absolutely disgusted but eager to make friends so she asks him his favorite books and authors.

- remus goes on like an hour long tangent about tolkien and c.s. lewis and how much he loves fantasy and how he’s so excited he gets to be at hogwarts because it’s so close to his escape from his lycanthropy as a child.

- lily tells him all about literature and they start a book club right then and there.

- remus also studied piano from his mom as well, and then eventually when she couldn’t teach him anymore his parents saved up to pay for a teacher.

- he loves his piano teacher and over summer breaks goes back and takes lessons

- bonds with sirius because of this as sirius had to learn violin to become a “well rounded heir”. they play duet covers as entertainment for gryffindor parties and everyone fucking loves it.

- eventually mary joins in and plays guitar and they have a cute little peter paul and mary vibe going on.

- remus is so outspoken, and truly always the first to be informed on politics or news

- was very forthcoming on his views about the war, along with james and sirius. i believe remus was the most “radical” of them though, and wanted freedom/ equality for all creatures not just wizards.

- he also felt unease at the ministry and wanted systematic changes as well as wanting to fight against voldemort.

- extremely distrustful of dumbledoor towards the end of the war, and it caused division between him and sirius until the second war when sirius realized remus had been right.

- remus had a magical proclivity for defense, and was a great dueler. the only person who he was evenly matched with in his class was sirius. they often fought to draws. they absolutely keep count of their wins.

- remus, lily, and mary all collectively give james and sirius their music tastes. they have new records every time they come home from break.

- remus is absolutely a stoner and loves smoking joints, reading, and listening to music during his free time.

- him and sirius smoke together sometimes but remus smokes a lot more than sirius because it really helps him with his chronic pain and depression.

- oh remus rolling a joint is like the most sexy thing anyone has ever seen. sirius frequently uses those memories for….personal time.

- remus uses an expansion charm under his bed and grows his own weed, eventually becomes hogwarts resident dealer and always puts freebies in his deliveries

- the freebies include:

- little drawings made by sirius

- chcocolates

- sometimes if he’s hanging out with marlene and has to deliver an order she’ll draw a tarot card for the person and write down a little reading for them!

- remus’ own handmade stickers!

- yeah he’s everyone’s favorite drug dealer seriously 10/10.

- he operates this all under minnie’s nose and is forever smug about getting away with it.

- i could probably think of a million more because i just love him so much but ive been hitting my pen while writing this so i’m gonna go make a snack!!!

[neiptune]

the best of you belongs to me

c/w: 2k wc, strangers to lovers, so fucking self indulgent, nagi exceeds all expectations and is actually the perfect boyfriend <3

There are quite a few things that people who know Nagi Seishiro don’t believe he’s suited for.

College, because he’s in his mid twenties, already works as a professional football player and wouldn’t be interested in pursuing anything else.

Friendships, because every person in his life has found themself there by mere coincidence and he definitely doesn’t look like the kinda person who would care whether they’re there or not.

Living on his own, because god forbid someone as lazy and demotivated as himself should be looking after a whole apartment and his persona at the same time. Not that he needs to, with all that money, but he’s surely way too lethargic to even consider going through the hassle of hiring someone to do all those things for him.

Relationships, because Nagi Seishiro isn’t interested in other people, let alone women, and he would be incapable of committing to the effort needed to even think about dating someone.

Some people, none of his closest friends, believe his unnatural talent at succeeding is outrageous: the boy is just insanely lucky and gifted with a golden instinct that saved him from becoming a complete waste of space. Underneath all the admiration Nagi is flooded with each day there’s raw envy and bitterness because such is the human nature. But why should that even matter? Even if he knew, Nagi Seishiro wouldn’t bring himself to care. It’s just how he is.

Except he went beyond all that in no time, when you first had met him at Isagi’s birthday party.

Yoichi’s always been one of your closest friends, ever since high school, and although the years and your respective busy schedules have played their bitter part in keeping you separated, you knew as he knew you were always just one call away from each other. When you had casually texted him about being in town, you didn’t even expect him to be in Japan as he’s almost always traveling overseas. But he was and to make it up for the fact that he couldn’t join you for coffee because he had practice, he invited you to his apartment for the birthday party he was planning to have the following evening.

“Yeah, not sure that’s a good idea”

“It’s the perfect idea! If you’re worrying about bringing a gift, I don’t want one”

“I’m worrying about not knowing any of your friends!”

“You know me! C’mon, I really wanna see you”

And so you picked the only dress still neatly folded in your suitcase, packed just in case, and made your way downtown a few hours prior to the party to hopefully find a birthday present Yoichi would actually like. Eventually, you settled for a full grain customizable leather backpack: the shop owner was nice enough to add a laser engraving of your friend’s initials, which you thought was a nice, thoughtful touch.

You slipped a card inside the classy bag the gift was packaged in, one with the drawing of a soccer ball and “hope you have a ball on your special day!” written underneath it.

So that it doesn’t get mixed up with someone else’s when you travel! Happy birthday Yoi, love you x

Too fucking bad the weather decided to take a completely different turn as soon as you stepped out of the subway to make your way across the urban oasis that’s Shirokane, which resulted in you arriving at your friend’s apartment absolutely soaked. You patiently ignored the stares collected while waiting for the elevator in the luxurious entrance lobby, too busy making sure you were able to keep Yoichi’s gift dry.

When he opened the door with a warm smile splitting his face right away, arms were closed tightly around you in a second, warnings about being drenched swallowed by his usual affection. He did, however, take a small step back, surprised as his black button down was no longer nice and dry but still cut off your apologies by quite literally dragging you inside.

“Come in, you have to meet everyone!”

“Yoichi, wait—”

“What’s that in your hand? I told you I didn’t want anything!”

“Yoichi!”

All your protests and resistance proved to be absolutely useless as you found yourself thrown in the middle of a sparkly living room, filled with men scattered everywhere. The soft background music coming from your friend’s portable speakers wasn’t enough to tone down your entrance and, suddenly, most eyes were on you.

Isagi, ever the trusty man, stayed by your side when he introduced you to the whole goddamn room as one of his oldest best friends as you stood there embarrassed and anxious, with droplets dripping down from your clothes and hair to the parquet floors.

“Hi! It’s so nice to meet you!” a short giggle followed an enthusiastic, thin voice and you turned to your right to find a friendly guy smiling fondly in a way that seemed so genuine you couldn’t hold back a smile in turn.

“Uh, hi, I’m happy to meet you t—” but his ochre eyes cut you off as they left your uncertain features to glare at Isagi, still standing proudly next to you with an arm around your shoulders “hey, this sweet girl’s gonna catch a cold, give her a change of clothes”

As realization finally dawned on him, your friend opened his mouth and then closed it a few times, taken aback.

“Oh, fuck, right! Wait, gimme that” he gently took the bag from your hands and placed it on his coffee table “but what could I lend you? I don’t have any clean clothes, just some tank tops and—”

Bachira’s impatient huff was interrupted by a gentle voice coming from behind him.

“I have an extra change of clothes” the white haired guy sitting on the couch bent down to zip the black bag left next to his feet open “me and Reo had practice today” he said while casually getting up with a slight groan to hand you neatly folded sweatpants and a black long sleeve shirt.

“Why do you have an extra change of clothes?” Bachira looked at him with a skeptical frown that was barely acknowledged as the stranger let himself fall on the couch again.

“I sweat a lot”

“Who cares?” Isagi stepped in, irritated “she’s gonna catch a cold! Go change in my room and get a towel for your hair” with a gentle push to your back, he shooed you out of the room and towards the stairs.

You looked every bit as ridiculous as one could guess, clothes way too baggy and long as your poor dress was left to dry in Isagi’s bathroom. While you patted your hair with a clean towel, you couldn’t help but cautiously pinch the collar of the shirt and sniff at the soft fabric. It smelled nice, of a fresh cleanliness that reminded you of baby powder.

When you sheepishly made your way back downstairs, the overall welcome was far warmer and already filled with a sweet, familiar flavor. Isagi’s friends were nice, funny in their excitement when having debates over matches and considerate when it came to not making you feel left out.

You sat on che couch opposite to the one where your savior was chilling, lazily listening to whatever his buddy was telling him. You had to inch forward and gently graze his knee to bring his attention to you, hazel gaze shortly traveling from your features to how his clothes sat on a body that was definitely not meant to wear them. Nagi just shrugged at your “thank you”, he didn’t mirror your smile nor he introduced himself, but he kept his eyes on you as Bachira resumed his questions about how Isagi was in high school and Kunigami offered you a beer to warm you up.

It was a nice night, one that left you with your cheeks hurting from how much you had been smiling. Catching up with Isagi was nice and even if to this day you still have no idea how he managed to sneakily save his number in your phone under the name of “Bachi”, getting to meet him and everyone else filled your heart with comforting joy. Finding new friends as an adult can be hard and having moved to an entirely different city definitely didn’t help, but the atmosphere in Isagi’s apartment served as a wonderful reminder of how, sometimes, the best surprises are just a text away.

That’s what you thought, while having casual conversations with men you had never met before and the eyes of one of them were so intently focused on you it was as if they were asking for some of that attention, of those questions, to be directed their way as well.  

So you complied and, much to Isagi’s and everyone else’s quiet astonishment, Nagi actually spoke and replied and nodded and turned his body towards you and even offered a hint of a smile when Yoichi started teasing the hell out of your high school self, all worried about grades, clubs, extra curricular activities.

The reason why Nagi kept observing you throughout the night, was mere curiosity. Contrary to popular belief, there were things that could spark his interest outside videogames and football. Someone able to enter a room full of strangers and attract their sympathies right away. Someone with a pretty smile, terrible jokes and a kind spirit that resembled Isagi’s. Someone who looked way too good in his clothes, so good he was tempted to blurt out a “keep them”.

Someone who accepted a ride home from Chigiri and Kunigami at the end of the night, exhanged a long hug with her best friend and endured the one Meguru forced on her with a laugh so sweet he wished he was the one offering you a ride home.

So you were gone, dress still not entirely dry tucked in your backpack and a shy wave of a hand, one promising “I’ll give you these back as soon as I can!” that wasn’t enough to stop him from casually asking Isagi if he could’ve held another party soon enough.

“Why?”

“So you can invite her again”

He doesn’t let the laugh he receives upon the request nor Bachira’s you should’ve asked for her number, idiot embarrass him. What would he know? He’s dated sporadically, things always kept very low effort and casual, girls asking him out and him saying yes because he wanted a spark, that something to be ignited, just like it happened whenever a ball touched his feet. He didn’t like being lonely.

So you and Nagi met again, over a coffee you insisted on buying to thank him for his kindness. His freshly laundered clothes were given back to him in a yellow bag, he still remembers the disappointment of not being able to find out how your scent would feel on his shirt.

His questions about your life were genuine, despite his monotonous tone you could tell he was making an effort at doing something he was not used to, which you found sweet.

Coffee turned into a stroll to get ice cream and when it felt like you had walked for miles through Sumida park, as he asked if you wanted to get dinner you couldn’t find it in yourself to refuse.

You liked listening to him, still tall and broad even when sitting in front of you but presence so oddly soothing you couldn’t stop asking and asking and asking. About his family, best friend, football journey, favorite games to play, that whole blue lock madness Yoichi has already told you all about. Nagi was always part of the “freaks” in his stories. It was never derogatory, he only used the term because “prodigy” would’ve been way too spoiling. Classic Yoichi, still managing to forget that he’s part of the freaks as well.

In the end, he did follow Bachira’s advice and asked for your number.

“I’ll give it to you but I’m leaving tomorrow”

“Leaving?”

“Yeah, I don’t live in Tokyo anymore”

He stared at you with features impossible to read, then took a small step and curled his body forward just enough to be closer.

“Nagoya, right? I could visit. Wouldn’t be a pain”

His straightforwardness was surprising and rendered you speechless for a few seconds, because this was not the guy Yoichi has described to you.

One year into your relationship and Nagi Seishiro couldn’t be more different than how he was presented to you by your friend. He’s sweet, considerate, never fails to ask you about your day and will get offended if you forget to text him goodnight.

When he’s overseas, he only facetimes if he’s absolutely certain you’re not too tired. If it’s too late in Japan, you’d have to be the one facetiming him because he never wants you to stay awake for too long, especially if you have work the following day.

He visits often, always insists on paying for your train tickets whenever you visit him. Loves spending time with you just resting in his arms, big hands sneaking underneath your shirt to gently trace your spine and massage your back if you’re lying on top of him, content sighs escaping his lips if his head rests on your lap and you run your fingers through his snowy hair, gently scraping his scalp.

He plays games on his phone while you read but will get up to help you as soon as you head to the kitchen to start putting dinner together. He wraps his arms around you and rests his chin on your head, if you're not holding a knife he'll start tracing your neck and jaw with sweet kisses until you giggle and turn around to pull him closer.

When he has to leave for practice, he always asks if you have plans because he hates the idea of leaving you bored and alone. If you don’t and you feel like to, you’re always invited to go with him, so often that by now you’re the one casually asking Reo to come over to have dinner together after training sessions.

Nagi talks about his friends a lot, especially when he’s eating. He’d tell you about how Chigiri needs to stop putting too much pressure on his injured knee because it would be such a shame if a player like him had to stop for good. He thinks Isagi’s mind is incredible, albeit a little scary, just like Kunigami’s extra powerful left leg. Reo is the most important person in his life and you always make sure not to overstep, because you’d hate to intrude in a relationship as special as theirs. They both know.

Nagi doesn’t think loving you is a hassle, nor that it’s too much effort. He finds it surprisingly easy, actually. Caring for you and craving your touch feels natural, as if he was born to experience the simple joy of having hushed conversations with you in the dark of his bedroom when you’re both on the verge of drifting off. He's not scared you'll make fun of him so he tells you everything that’s on his mind, including the idea of getting a college degree eventually, maybe in history, just to give it a go. He discovers the wonder of taking care of someone else for the first time in his life, and just how good it makes him feel. He loves attempting to cook for you, brewing tea, heating soup and then feeding it to you if you have a cold. The blissful squeeze of his chest and stomach whenever the soft touch of your lips meets his is a prize he wouldn’t give up for all the world cups and top rankings and golden football career paths offered to him.

There are quite a few things that people who know Nagi Seishiro don’t believe he’s suited for but oh, what a delight has been to prove them all wrong with such ease and so much love not even he was aware he had it in himself to give.

[artsyhamster]

Decided to start drawing tarot cards (Major Arcana) with Disco Elysium characters. I have almost all of them mapped out, but let’s see if I will finish them. Will link them together if I actually do end up drawing more.

Anyway, explanations for choices underneath the cut, because I feel the need to explain myself and I actually spent a lot of time on distributing the roles hahah

(1) THE FOOL / THE MAGICIAN / THE HIGH PRIESTESS | (2) THE EMPRESS / THE EMPEROR / THE HIEROPHANT | (3) THE LOVERS / THE CHARIOT / STRENGTH | (4) THE HERMIT / WHEEL OF FORTUNE / JUSTICE | (5) THE HANGED MAND / DEATH / TEMPERANCE | (6) THE DEVIL / THE TOWER / THE STAR | (7) THE MOON / THE SUN / JUDGMENT / THE WORLD

I am going to cite this homepage first, to showcase the whole journey, because this one helped me a loooot with figuring stuff out. Will also quote a lot from there. Anyway!

THE FOOL - The major arcana represents the stages of the Fool’s journey, and since Harry is both the protagonist and a fool, this choice was a no brainer. I specifically chose his Tequila Sunset moment, because at the beginning of his journey, the fool is still oblivious to everything that is about to happen, and Tequila Sunset has Al Guhl and drugs to thank for this obliviousness.

[In the Fool’s Story, the cards appear in chronological order as he meets them, but since Disco obviously follows its own story, I can’t follow that chronological order, but I’m hoping the characters make sense anyway. :D]

THE MAGICIAN - “The Magician is the force that allows us to impact the world through a concentration of individual will and power.“ I had a hard time picking another character for this role, because to me this felt like forces coming from within the protag himself. So i chose SHIVERS and INLAND EMPIRE as representatives of Harry’s skills instead.

THE HIGH PRIESTESS - “The High Priestess is the negative side. She is the mysterious unconscious.” I guess it goes without saying, that Dolores Dei has a negative impact on Harry’s subconscious. Like THE MAGICIAN, I also see her as part of Harry, because she... is not really a person. More like a fabrication, or echoes of memories, which might even be distorted memories.

Not to go off on a tangential rant, but I love the concept of Dora, because we don’t really know her. :D All we know is what Harry remembers in his subconscious, and this might just be Harry projecting his insecurities onto this literal goddess, who echoes his insecurities back at him. 

I also wonder if Harry always had the skills or if they just appeared one day, as his mind shattered.

Anyway, see you at the next rambling.

[thollandneedy]

The homecoming trick- Peter Parker

A/n: I took the inspo from a "Never been kissed" scene.

Warnings: Language

Summary: Peter comforts you after you get tricked by the popular guy from school.

Don’t forget to share, like, comment and leave your ideas here

Bellah’s Masterlist 🪻

Running footsteps could be heard from the empty corridor where Y/n was hurrying to find his best friend, Peter Parker. Looking quickly through the small rectangular windows of the classrooms, she finally found the room she was looking for, opening the door without worrying about the people in the class. The girl caused a bang, causing all the students sitting around the chemistry table to withdraw their attention from the teacher and turn to Y/n. 

“PETER PARKER. YOU DON'T KNOW WHO ASKED ME TO THE HOMECOMING DANCE!” Y/n almost shouts, causing the brunette to blush as he realizes that the prying eyes have turned their attention to him.

“Miss L/N!” The middle-aged teacher who was teaching the class calls out to the girl, who straightens her posture while biting her lower lip, realizing that she had made a mistake by shouting into the classroom.

“Sorry.” The girl says quietly. “Peter?”

The brunette stands up promptly, removing his transparent goggles and positioning them under the massive stone desk. Parker asks his teacher for silent permission, who only answers him by rolling her eyes and looking down. Leaving the room to find her best friend, the door closes behind the pair and Y/n is able to express her happiness without being judged for her outbursts. 

“Who asked you to the dance to make you act like that? Harry Styles?” Peter asks, drawing a laugh from the younger girl.

“You know I've emailed him several times, but he always ignores me.” Y/n replied, crossing her arms. “Cody Taylor” The girl breaks into a huge grin, jumping up and down with joy that almost causes Peter to overbalance and fall against the chain of blue lockers positioned on the walls of the little-trafficked corridors. 

“Ah... Cody”

Peter hated Cody Taylor, and he had a reason. It wasn't because he was popular, and therefore extremely popular, but because he didn't have a good feeling about the boy with the light brown eyes and wavy blond hair. Cody had a bad reputation with girls, and some might even say that he just uses girls to “get what he wants”, and then disappears off the map pretending that he never met the person he got involved with. Even so, he attracted rivers of girls who would even give their souls so that he could have a day with this Cody Taylor. 

“You don't seem excited.” Y/n tilts his head to the side, frowning as he realizes the frustration in Peter's voice.

“Y/n, I-” Peter tries to say, but is cut off by his best friend.

“I got a letter with his name on it, but I thought it was a bad prank. When I was going out for lunch, he called me over and said he'd had his eye on me for ages, but I'd never noticed him. So he asked me out at the last minute. Isn't that great?” The girl nods as she remembers the previous events with Cody, looking away and thinking back to the boy's voice calling her to the dance. 

Peter stays silent, pulling Y/n back to reality.

“I don't like Cody, Y/n. In fact, I've never liked him, and that's nothing new. You know about his fame.” Peter crosses his arms, looking down at his own feet. 

“Welllll, but you like me. Then you should be happy.” The girl tries to reverse the boy's thinking.

Let's put the cards on the table 

Y/n wasn't the type of girl that Cody Taylor was interested in. Whenever he showed up with a new girl, she was wearing short clothes and big necklines, even though the school didn't allow it. They were sexy women, who could attract a man by their body and their manipulative eyes, while their manner was petty and extremely needy of attention from other men who could fuck her with their eyes. Y/n was part of the book club on Wednesday afternoons; she had a limited group of friends; she always wore colorful socks with characters on them and she didn't like being the center of attention. 

For Peter, she was perfect

Y/n didn't let school influence her to be sexier or more mature than she needed to be, and that's what made her stand out among all the girls who once stayed with Cody.

But Peter would never admit that to her.

At least not when he was competing against the most desirable boy of the last year.

“And you accepted?” Peter asks, even though he already knows the answer.

“Of course I did!” Y/n says excitedly.

“Well, then it's a deal.” Peter nods, continuing with his arms crossed. 

“What about you? Have you called Liz yet?” The girl puts one of her hands on the teenager's arm, who undoes his posture looking for the right words to lie.

Liz Allen had rejected Peter, and he had no one to go to the dance with except Y/n, who now had an unexpected date. However, it was no surprise that she would reject him, since he had never had a gallant enough track record to get a girl to agree to go to the dance with him. Once again, he was going to sell his ticket and feign a mysterious illness the day before the event.

“She said she already had a date, but if she didn't, she'd go with me.” Peter lies.

It was much nicer to say something like that, than to repeat: “Not even if you made a pig speak my full name and shit out a golden invitation, would I go to the prom with you.”

“I'm sorry, love.” The girl took pity on her best friend, then slowly approached him until she was around him in a loving embrace. “Tell me a color. Any color. I want you to choose what I'm going to wear to the ball. So that you can take part in it even a little bit.” The girl asks, drawing a silly laugh from the brunette.

“Y/n...” Peter tries to say, but is cut off by a hand that flies to his mouth, preventing him from saying anything.

“Just say it.” The girl asks insistently.

“Green. You look beautiful in green. Especially dark green, like that dress you wore to May's brunch last year.” Peter recalls the dress his best friend was wearing for his aunt's birthday.

That day, Peter was sure that Y/n wasn't just a friend. Parker sketched the girl's body with his eyes, making his heart beat faster than usual and his throat go dry as he noticed her toned legs. He had always known that he liked Y/n, but after a lot of research with his friend Google and his friend Buzzfeed quiz, what he felt could have been a lack of affection for the loss of his parents. For weeks he tried to deny his feelings, telling himself that he was lying to himself and that his friendship couldn't be ruined by a desire he didn't even know was mutual. 

“Do you remember me from that day?” Y/n shrugs at his friend's comment.

“I do. It was when you started to like wearing dresses more, and you bought this one after I told you it would look perfect on you.” Peter comments, causing the girl to smile without showing her teeth.

“Liz is an idiot not to go with you to the dance, you know that, don't you?” Y/n tries to cheer Peter up, causing the boy to smile sideways as he agrees with the girl in front of him who was wearing a gray sweatshirt and ripped jeans. 

“I like to believe so.” Peter looked away from the teacher who was calling to him through the window, asking him to return to class with only a reproachful look for spending too long outside the classroom. “I need to get back to class, but will you wait for me so I can take you home? My lesson finishes at 4pm.”

“Sure. I'll stay in the library.” The girl replies, and then Peter reaches out for the door handle. “Wait!”

“What?” Peter throws his head back, pretending to be annoyed by Y/n's presence.

“I love you, Peter. Cody will never take me away from you, as much as I'd like him to.” Y/n touches the student's strong muscle, making both their hearts race at the subtle but tender contact. 

They both blush, and Y/n quickly removes his hand and puts it in the pocket of his jeans. 

“I love you too, Y/n.” Peter smiles blushing, silently says goodbye to Y/n and enters the classroom again. 

(...)

The pink speaker was positioned on top of Y/n's bedspread, playing “Drunk in Love” at high volume. Y/n was sitting next to the speaker, hunched over so that she could reach the strap of her silver high-heeled shoes, which she would be wearing tonight. The week had passed quickly since the day Cody had asked her to the dance, even after Peter had sent her countless hints that she shouldn't go to the dance with a boy with such a reputation. As much as she knew it, her need for a teenage movie experience was greater than her rationality. Just as Parker tried his best to blur Y/n's mind of the unrealistic and sexual wonders that Cody could offer, she tried to take him to the dance as an extra chaperone. 

The sound of a knock on the door was heard, and Y/n stood up promptly, quickly turning down the music. Fixing her loose hair in a curling iron, the girl looks at herself in the dressing table mirror, searching for any lint that might be out of place. Her mother's voice says loudly:

“Ah, Peter! You look great.”

The door closes and she hears heavy footsteps coming towards her room. The brunette opens the door slowly, as if asking before entering, but without words. A part of his face is seen by Y/n, who laughs at the boy's action, saying:

“You can come in, Peter. I'm not without clothes.” The girl says, picking up her cell phone to locate the car in which Cody will pick her up in a few minutes.

As soon as her eyes wandered away from the cell phone screen, her stomach seemed to drop like when she was on a roller coaster. There was Peter, wearing a black tuxedo and a green striped tie to match Y/n's dress, which covered her breasts with a corset decorated with flowers in the same dark shade, while the skirt descended between several layers of silk fabric. The girl gave a slow smile, moving towards the boy who seemed at a loss for words at the sight of Y/n dressed like a princess.

“Yeah, Parker... You don't look half bad.” The girl approached him, placing one of her hands on his tie and stroking the fabric with her fingertips.

“You look great.” Peter smiles, making Y/n look away in a nervous smile. “If I hadn't agreed to go, I would never have seen you like this. Apart from the many photos I know you'll be taking to post on Instagram later,” he comments.

“You look really great, Peter.” Y/n says again in a sweet voice. “I've never seen you like this before.”

“Do you like it? When I become rich, I'll make a point of only wearing a tuxedo to please you.” Peter tries to charm him, only to receive a low chuckle.

The weather seems to be getting hotter than usual, as if something is descending into the air and making it hotter, even though it's not summer to feel such heat. The sound of a loud horn interrupts the gazes fixed on each other, causing the couple to move away quickly and Y/n to run for the front door, while Peter grabs the bag hanging from the chair on the girl's dressing table, then rushes after the girl. 

The black car stops in Y/n's driveway, and then Cody Taylor gets out of the car. Peter grimaces as he notices the visible ego of the boy, who didn't seem to care about the brunette's opinion. Cody adjusts his light gray blazer, allowing room for the car door to swing open, hinting that Y/n could say goodbye to get into the vehicle. The blond smiles without showing his teeth, and before Y/n can do anything, the boy stops her from speaking:

“Sorry I'm late. I had to stop by the market to pick up a few things.” Cody says with a satisfied smile.

Two more girls and a man come out of the vehicle. They're all dressed as if they were in a gang looking for a victim to torment. Y/n frowns in doubt, turning his head away when he notices that there are more people than expected. Those girls and that boy were part of the little group that hung out with Cody in the corridors and threw huge parties for the children, whom they thought were enough to sit with him. Peter put his hand on Y/n's shoulder, realizing that something was wrong.

“I thought we were going alone.” Y/n says, causing Cody's girls to laugh quietly.

“We? No, Y/n. There is no we.” Taylor gets into the car again, as the boy in the red tie pulls his cell phone out of his pocket to record, while the girls pull out open egg cartons from behind their hands, which turned out to be used as weapons against the girl in the green dress. 

The eggshells broke easily against Peter's chest, who stepped in front of Y/n to protect her from the thrown eggs, but his chest burned when he realized that only he was being soiled by the yellowish yolks. Y/n positioned herself next to Peter, feeling the hard shell break on her chest and her newly rented dress. Thinking it was over, the same boy who had recorded the scene pulled out a packet of wheat flour from behind him, which was thrown at the couple standing in front of the entrance to Y/n's house. As soon as the box was empty, Cody's friends got into the car, the door slamming shut quickly and the sound of screeching tires screeching against the asphalt as they decided to flee their cowardly act. 

Peter looked at Y/n, dirty with eggs and wheat flour. Her eyes shone and her mascara ran down in the shape of a black drop. The girl took a deep breath, straightening her hair and removing the small white pieces from her dress. 

“You were right.” Y/n mutters quietly, taking a deep breath to stop herself from bursting into embarrassed tears in front of Peter. “Cody is pathetic.” His jaw clenches.

“Y/n...” Peter put one of his hands on Y/n's dirty cheek, pulling her into a warm embrace.

The crying was low, but Peter could hear the sound of her heart breaking into pieces. The boy ran his hand through his best friend's hair, trying to make sure that their bodies made as much contact as possible through a gesture of care. Peter looked at the horizon, still able to see Cody's car driving away. As much as he thought about chasing after it to get revenge, Y/n needed someone right now. The girl's chest heaved as she coughed between loud cries of pain. 

“Let's go in.” Peter said into her ear, kissing her forehead afterwards. 

“I don't want my mother to see me like this.” She said through heavy tears.

“Let's go around the back then. Up the tree that leads to your bedroom window.” Peter holds her hand gently, trying to guide her somewhere that isn't soiled with the remains of her shame. 

(...)

Y/n lay with her head on Peter's outstretched arm, who lay behind her stroking her hair. The brunette replayed the scene several times in his mind, planning future revenge in whatever form, but one thing was certain, Cody Taylor would regret it. Over the younger woman's shoulder, the brunette could see that she was watching several stories of her friends at the party with drinks in their hands. Y/n wasn't going to admit that she felt pathetic for being carried away by her silly desires to go to the dance with a popular guy. On the other hand, she didn't feel sad about the situation itself, but about having embarrassed herself and probably becoming a walking meme when the video was leaked. The smell of shampoo was present in both of their wet hair, but even the clear smell couldn't cover up the egg smell.

“Watching videos of them won't help, darling.” Peter said in a low voice, causing Y/n to snort low.

The light from the television shone against the faces of the teenagers lying on Y/n's bed. Fortunately, Y/n's parents thought they had already gone to the dance and left the house alone a few minutes after Peter and his best friend went up to the girl's room. Everything was dark, but the heavy atmosphere between the two was clear. Y/n put her cell phone face down and tried to focus on the Star Wars episode on television. Peter's tuxedo and Y/n's dress were placed in a large bag in front of Y/n's bed so that they wouldn't forget to take it out to wash during the week. After much insistence, Peter had finally persuaded her to watch the third one in an attempt to distract her with the thousand and one facts he told her about the movie for more than half an hour. 

The girl in the cherry-print pyjamas turns to Peter after picking up the remote control and turning off the television. Y/n stares at him with watery eyes, and allows her head to rest in the passage between his shoulder and neck, as if it were a place of safety. Peter hugged her, closing his eyes and thinking of what he could say to cheer up his friend in some way. His head was screaming for him to be able to confess the way he felt, exposing that he would never put her through anything like this if he were hers. 

“I feel terrible.” Y/n proclaimed.

“At least we have enough eggs to make an eggnog.” Peter says comically, failing to get a smile out of Y/n. 

“I'm not sad. But it's like I've been exposed. My innermost and most genuine feelings have been trampled on and pushed aside as if I'm not human enough to feel anything.” Y/n cringes. “Have you ever felt that?”

Peter denies silently

“It sucks.” Y/n says at last.

Silence

“Too bad you couldn't take a picture in the dress.” Peter says quietly, remembering the many times during the week that his friend had commented on the many beautiful photos she would take when she arrived at the ball.

“I did, but you hadn't arrived yet so we could take one together.” Y/n says, feeling her knees touch his.

Silence

“Cody's just another rich piece of shit who got into school because his dad is friends with the principal and he wants to get into an Ivy on a sports scholarship. He's dumber than a door, so don't think he won't end up falling after all this. It will take time, but it will happen. And it's going to be beautiful.” Peter says as if there's poison in his words. 

“I'm dumber than a door. I shouldn't have let my illusion cross the line.” Y/n says, moving a little away from the brunette who was staring at her, deep into her eyes. “You have beautiful eyes. They've always reminded me of those little chocolate balls in cookies.”

“I think that's hunger.” Peter laughs quietly. “Are you okay? I mean, fuck. I'm sorry. Of course, you're not okay.” The brunette in the gray shirt and striped pants closes his eyes tightly, placing one of his hands on his forehead as he says it.

“It's okay, Peter.” Y/n's voice was soft, but faint because of the involuntary tears that ran down her makeup-free skin. “We're still in the first year. Worse things will probably happen.” The girl shrugged, even though her spirit was still sick with shame. 

Peter nodded, looking away for a few seconds and carefully picking up the words he was going to say to his weakened friend.

“How well are you coping?”

“You taught me. That day at May's brunch. When my aunt died and I just told you at the end of the day, and you told me that I would never be strong enough to cope with everything in life, so if one day I was about to break down, let me remember that everything can be fixed. My aunt wouldn't come back from the dead, but I know she wouldn't want to see me in a bad way.” Y/n comments. “I know I'm in a bad way, but if I think I'm going to be okay, I'll heal faster. Positive psychology, huh?”

Parker smiles without showing his teeth, silently agreeing. A warm feeling embraces his chest, making the air less heavy than it was. The sound of the wind beating against the window and the leaves of the trees rustling against each other was what made the silence soothing. For a moment, everything felt like a peaceful sea, where the moon was present and commanded the slow waves. They both felt connected to each other, but the commotion wasn't usual, but a line of various emotions that curled into a tangle of desires. Their breaths seemed to be merging slowly, and neither side intended to move away. 

“I got jealous.” Y/n confessed quietly. “When you asked Liz to the dance instead of me that week before Cody asked me.”

“What?” Peter makes a confused face, not understanding why she would be jealous of him, sitting back against the pillows of Y/n's bed.

“Last year we went together, and then Liz joined the school. You only talked about her, so I got busy obsessing over someone else too so it would hurt less that I wanted to go out with you, but you were immersed in the Liz Allen world.” The girl sat down next to Peter, allowing their shoulders to touch briefly as they spoke to each other.

“Shut up,” Peter replied, disbelieving what he was hearing. ”Why didn't you tell me this before?”

“Maybe because you spent hours talking about how beautiful her skirt looked on her body, or how you'd sell your collection of Legos to get a sexy compliment from her.” Y/n recalls Peter's words.

“Okay! I exaggerated about the legos, but all that was platonic.” Peter defends himself. “I didn't want to call you because I didn't want to seem weird, especially because...” The dark-haired man tries to say, but loses his words in the middle, noticing that he was about to say something considered his personal secret.

His face reddens, and even if he tried to tell Y/n so that she would forget what he was about to say, she wouldn't. The pyjama-clad girl sat down in front of Peter, crossing her feet and projecting her posture forward in an attempt to listen carefully to what he had to say. Peter nodded, looking at nothing and turning his attention to the girl in front of him, who was staring at him expectantly.

“I like you too, Peter.” Y/n proclaimed before the brunette could say anything.

His eyes sparkle, and his mouth goes dry.

“D-do you?”

“I do. Do you?” Y/n asked fearfully, thinking that perhaps she had misunderstood the teenager's signals.

“I do”

“Why did you talk about Liz then?” Y/n bites her lower lip as she asks.

“Why didn't you ever give me any signs that you liked me back? You always hugged me and kissed me, but I never felt it was anything more than friendship, also because you do it with all your friends. You don't show it when you like someone, apart from when you said it about Cody Shitty. You're an enigma, and that's very attractive. Apart from the fact that you're the person I trust most in the world, even though you have terrible taste in socks.” Peter confesses, playing with his fingers as he says it.

“Peter...” Y/n touches his striped pants-covered leg, sliding his hand up the inside of his thigh.

Parker's chest juts forward, gently grasping the back of Y/n's neck as he moves in for a kiss. Their moist lips complete each other, pulling their bodies together as if they were magnets lost long ago after failing to connect with each other. Y/n's breasts are pressed against Parker's strong chest, at the same moment that the girl climbs onto the boy's lap, releasing the weight of the feeling she was carrying with her to deposit it in synchronous movements with his lap. The brunette placed one of his hands on the girl's waist, guiding her sloppy movements as the kiss continued to escalate.

Their tongues wore each other out, seeming as if they had known each other for ages. The fit was perfect, and the movement of their mouths had the same hot desire for more. Their chests shared the same heart rate because of the excitement. Their movements became faster, and their clothes seemed to jump from their bodies to the floor without even touching them. In the midst of kisses down their necks, the sound of a key banging against the front door was heard, causing the couple to move away in fright.

“My parents are back”

“At least they don't know we're here.” Peter says low with his body paralyzed on top of Y/n.

“Y/n and Peter. Can you come down here please?” Y/n's mother's voice echoes loudly.

“How the fuck does she know we're here?” Peter says in desperation.

“Sixth sense. All mothers have them. You may be Spider-Man, but she knows a lot more than you do.” Y/n gets up quickly, looking for her blouse lying on the floor.

“How do you know I’m...” Peter puts on his rolled-up gray shirt

“Peter. You don't know how to hide secrets.” Y/n laughs, opening the door next to Peter and closing it behind him. 

[itgirlgyu]

SUMMER CAMPUS LOVER. choi beomgyu.

PAIRING: beomgyu x reader GENRE: fluff WC: 1007

"duped by some jaded adults in your college you were led to believe the tales of the beautiful boy who haunts the hallways of your university, infamous for his love that took place in the summer, until you found him, and he's very much... real?!"

"Are you the ghost of summer campus lover?"

Beomgyu turned around to take a better look at you—cutting amidst the newfangled autumn air with the remnants of summer still tucked underneath the space of his eyes, and the wonderment twirling around the corner of his lips. An expression of bewilderment—despite doused in amusement as he assessed the ridiculously worded sentence that left your mouth, not even delayed within the gates of hesitation.

"Can you—" a broken chuckle left his mouth, as his eyes crinkled in futile attempts to conceal his delight, "Can you repeat that?"

You frowned, holding the rolled manuscript of literature club's new fiction close to your chest to strengthen your resolve. You nodded your head with conviction, although it lacked a little less spirit compared to yourself that had marched behind the person whom you considered your only chance of campus adventure that you were going to remember till you take your last breath before you graduated, and busied yourself with the grueling daily routine of a working adult.

"Are you-" you halted, suddenly the wording drawing its sharp realization upon your throat. Panicked eyes flitting from the shadow underneath the setting sun, or the sweet scene that drifted from his body at the proximity you two had finally shared—all of it were awfully human.

He's a real human.

The veracity of the fact that you were being played into an elaborate rumor. on you finally settled on your nerves, and the panic soon seeped in as if it had been waiting for its cue on the line for a long, long time.

Should you run?

"Come on," Beomgyu prodded at you, taking a one step— two step closer to where you were standing, bending his neck a little downwards to meet your downcasted eyes, an impish smile imminent on lines of his pretty lips, "I want to hear it."

"Were you in on it?" Your voice was meek, laced in many components of embarrassment, fear, and rage— so, so much of rage. You were seething; you were angry at yourself for ever believing in some groundless rumors made by bored adults.

Whilst you were tasting the layers of acrid concoctions of those awful emotions, Beomgyu busied himself with the task of counting how many times your eyebrows furrowed as the dots connected in your head one after another; the redness of your bulging eyes once you decided on which reigning emotion you were going to act upon and he soon realized that anger had taken the trump card.

Beomgyu could sympathize with that.

"Were you in on it?" You questioned the long haired boy again, the determination in your opaque tone sending tingles down his spine, and he straightened his back, feigning a look on his pretty features pretending to think of the answer you were demanding out of him so nicely.

"At first? Not really." Beomgyu answered truthfully, shoving his hands into pockets, stumbling backwards with rhythmic lull to his unpredictable steps, "But then you kind of just figure it out, don't you?"

Beomgyu looked at you, as he stood against the burning orange figure of the sun, barely human— looking much akin to the ephemeral phantasm as everyone had made up rumors about, as much as you hate to admit your own ignorance you could not help but accept that such beauty could not exist within the threshold of this universe.

"How did the rumors come to be?" You inquired, your voice louder for him to hear you clearly. The usual sweetness of your tone swirling back in as you let the whole ordeal simmer within moments basking in the magical sun rays—something your grandmother had always suggested to you when saw you huffing and puffing in rage that was far too great for your little mass of body. The anger that was collecting your gut sort of fizzed away as the ridiculousness of the situation started to appear more, and more vitreous.

"Guess I am just too beautiful!" Beomgyu boasted, doing a whole demonstration of his beauty by flinging his hair back, before breaking into soft giggles. Bending across the railing of the rooftop, his laugh eased, and you found yourself stalking towards him. A strange rhythm danced underneath your feet as you contemplated the amount of distance you were supposed to cross over to stand next to him, or if you should at all.

Beomgyu noticed that too—for being a supposed rumor, he was too perceptive of others notions, but you had not expected him to urge you to stand close to him; closer than you had seen anyone get to him.

Dithering footsteps delaying as you waited for the unspoken approval; despite the deplorable feeling of rejection building up inside you. Beomgyu broke through the barrier of your thoughts with a swift gesture of his head and pressed smile, showing off that little dimple of his.

"I don't bite." Beomgyu jokes, with his smile deepening and pulling the corner of his eyes in mirthy mischief. You mirrored him, and skipped past the remaining distance.

"I skipped school a lot," Beomgyu broke the tranquility first.

Within a split second, the moment felt all too real.

You had known nothing but whispers of corridor about the beautiful ghost haunts the story and how those rumors had spun itself with pretty threads of romantic fables—that's all you knew to the man, yet in this moment, with him so close to you—it felt real.

His name— Beomgyu, had blanketed himself with untamed wildflowers that others only preferred to look from afar and weave tales of, but never dared to approach.

You turned to look at him—his elbows perched on top of the railing, and eyes staring ahead into the drowning sun as the evening zephyr caressed his cheeks, and told wispy secrets to his fluttering locks—you nodded.

"You skipped school a lot." you repeated after him, and his dimple on his cheek deepened, "okay, it's normal to skip a lot."

Beomgyu giggled, turning around to meet your stare, and nodded in agreement.

AN/// yes this is my come back IM SO FUCKIN SORRY FOR DISAPPEARING ALL OF A SUDDEN!!!! hopefully this is a sign I'll be back soon and kicking like a horse.

COPYRIGHTS TO ITGIRLGYU, feedbacks and reblogs with lil thoughts are always appreciated!

PERM'TAGLIST @impureperhaps @jisungsdaydreamer @wonioml @1921choi @ox1-lovesick @forever-in-the-sky2

[leithillustration]

Chivalry is (un)dead

Help! I need your opinions!

I haven’t made any moves yet to add Simon into this piece yet because, frankly, as much as I love the guy, my urge to draw Baz fan art is so much stronger and visualising him as a knight was very much the driving force of this piece. I’m a terrible person, so I also can’t resist a pun, thus why I’m now considering editing this illustration so it looks more like a tarot card with the ornate words ‘Chivalry is dead’ (or undead, haven’t decided yet) in the background.

What do you guys think? I’d like to maybe do some prints of this piece, but without any kind of framing or text it feels a bit unfinished.. but I’m worried adding a pun makes it a bit more niche given you need to know this is an image of a vampire knight to get the play on words. Should I make his teeth pointier and bigger to make it more obvious? Or perhaps writing ‘The Vampire Knight: Chivalry is Undead’ would work better? Both??

I’m not so fussed that on its own, this isn’t obviously a Baz fan art. Like, with the pun you don’t need to know it’s specifically Baz to get it- but if you do know, it adds a nice extra layer to it..?

(For those who didn’t see the original post about how this artwork came about, it was part of 2023 @carryon-reverse-bang)

Tags under the cut

If I’ve tagged you, it’s because you’ve tagged me in things and even though I am awful at keeping up with posts, I am so so excited whenever I get tagged and I love seeing your posts, so thank you!! ❤️❤️❤️❤️ Or if you haven’t tagged me, I may have added you because you liked my work at some point and I thought you might be interested/willing to share your thoughts. As always, no pressure at all to reply and if you’d rather I didn’t tag you, please let me know. No hard feelings 🥰

@you-remind-me-of-the-babe @youarenevertooold @iamamythologicalcreature @alexalexinii @rowynnellis @hattedhedgehog @that-disabled-princess @orange-peony @cutestkilla @rimeswithpurple @larkral @best--dress @scribble-tier @theimpossibledemon @katatsumuli @artsyunderstudy @raenestee @nightimedreamersworld @itriednottothinkaboutit @elfvictory

[putschki1969]

2024/06/10 Blog post by Wakana おしゃべりガーデン第10回目‼︎〜みんなのお父さん話と梅雨対策！横須賀ジブリ編その１〜

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Talk Garden Vol.10‼︎〜Stories About Your Father/Rainy Season Precautions! Yokosuka Ghibli Edition Part 1〜

Vol.#10 of Wakana's Talk Garden has been uploaded~😊We have successfully reached a big milestone, the 10 episode mark‼︎ It's all thanks to everyone who always listens and sends submissions…✨I am very grateful😊 I would like to continue posting my podcast at a leisurely pace, so please look forward to future episodes‼︎‼︎＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／

One of the topics for this episode was "Measures against the rainy season". Here's my favourite umbrella which I talked about in the podcast☂️💕It's very cute. I want to use it a lot during the upcoming rainy season🙄Someone mentioned in their message that "the air pressure during the rainy season is tough." I feel the same. During this time of year, the air pressure and humidity are likely to make you lose your energy. Don't forget to stay hydrated and it's best to do some light exercises to get through the rainy season in good health! 🥺

And since it is also Father's Day, I wanted everyone submit "Stories about your father" as a second topic for the podcast. By the way, I had completely forgotten, but my father was really into magic 😅He liked to do magic tricks with cars ♧♤♡♢Here is his very own card set. He would always bring out playing cards and perform some tricks wherever he was. He would even do little performances in front of my friends 😂He never let me in on the mechanics behind his tricks but he was definitely really good. Now I really want to see my dad's magic again 😊One day when I get to see him again, I'll ask him to show me~💫

So, for the next episode of "Wakana's Talk Garden" on July 10th, there will be no specific talk topic. You are free to submit anything you want me to talk about or you want to ask me･:*+.(( °ω° ))/.:+ The deadline is June 30th!! Please send your submissions!! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／ Thank you so much to everyone who sent messages this time!!!

Now, I would like to talk some more about my trip to Yokosuka‼️⛱🏄🌊I already talked about it in my podcast so in this blog post I want to share some photos from the first big part of my trip when I visited the "Toshio Suzuki and Ghibli Exhibition" held at Yokosuka Museum of Art! (I'll post about my experience in Sarushima=Monkey Island in a few days!!) Speaking of Ghibli, some people were curious if I had gone to the Ghibli exhibition so yes, you finally have your answer😊 You are greeted by Chihiro at the entrance. My excitement skyrocketed right from the start😊The curtain leads to an exhibition of 8,800 books displayed in a huge bookshelf. Each book is believed to have influenced Suzuki in some way. Another source of inspiration is his collection of movies which contains a whopping 10,000 films. I was surprised at the number of movies, he must have absorbed so much information from all these works. I want to become a part of the Suzuki family. It's cut off, but at the top of the photo there is Teto's beautifully drawn paw. I also really liked the drawing at the bottom center signed with "Miya-SAN on the Cliff by the Sea". Then I I met Totoro and his friends surrounded by a starry sky♡ I should have taken this photo with an umbrella~😭Here I am looking up at The Bathhouse with Chihiro. While I was there, I imagined Haku getting mad at me and telling me to get back right away because I shouldn't have come! Next I got myself one of Yubaba's fortune telling slips. What an impact😂 You pull out a numbered tag from Yubaba's mouth and then take your fortune slip from the drawer according to the number. It looked like I was trying to floss Yubaba's teeth. I got a half-blessing related to tidying up and becoming clutter-free. Last but not least, I enjoyed the wide and open sky on the rooftop 😂

This time, I bought a file, a letter set, a keychain, and postcards at the souvenir shop 😊 I love the keychain of San's mask😍 I will send one of these postcards to everyone whose messages I've read during the podcast😊 ...And with that my Ghibli story comes to an end. Or not!! Actually, my Ghibli adventure isn't over yet😇 I still have a few Ghibli photos and stories left so I will post a Part 2 some time soon!! I also have a story about a crazy stamp rally that felt like a sports competition😂

All right, I'll leave it at that for today!! Until next time~☆( '▽')/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

2024/06/07 Instagram post by Wakana 2024/06/09 Intagram post by Wakana

Wakana’s Talk Garden #10

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Episode #10 »»—— CLICK ME 🎁 CLICK ME ——««

・Stories about your father ・Measures against the rainy season

For next month’s episode which is scheduled to air on July 10th, the following topic has been chosen:

・Anything you'd like to ask Wakana/Anything you'd like Wakana to talk about

The submission deadline is 06/30.

[sl-newsie]

American Woman (Thomas Shelby x American OC) Ch. 27: All In The Same Basket

Masterlist: https://www.tumblr.com/sl-newsie/739551758747090944/american-woman-thomas-shelby-x-american-oc?source=share

Thud.

The door shuts and footsteps approach me. Thomas hasn’t been home all night and I don’t think twice about what happened. That bloody bastard. Of course he slept with her! May isn’t enough so he’s desperate enough to have a married woman! Perdition surely waits for him now.

“Morning,” I greet lightly when he walks in, bitterness hidden beneath. “Have some eggs.”

He looks even happier now. If I feel awful it’s my fault alone. I’m the one chaining myself to this, not him. 

“Do you plan to tell May?”

It’s asked so simply yet held with so much emotion. Thomas doesn’t ask how I know. 

“I do. I won’t string her hopes out.”

“At least you have the decency to do that,” I mutter.

“Grace mentioned New York,” Thomas says and I can tell what he’s thinking. “Said something about the people in Brooklyn being less friendly than the others. Know anything about that?”

I huff and all but throw the frying pan into the dish water. “No offense Thomas, but I do not bring my work home with me. I do not want your problems following me to my home. I simply requested that she stayed away.”

Instead of yelling Thomas stays calm. “Grace doesn’t mean any harm.”

“I know. She’s a nice person. But after the lies she told, I don’t want that in my life. The only way I will let this business into my life is if you agree to partner with my father.”

Have a taste of your own medicine, Thomas Shelby. How do you like it when someone pretends to care only for profit? Only instead of extracting sexual pleasures I am acquiring benefits for my family.

“I see.” Now his voice changes to the cold tone I remember. “He needs business just as much as I.”

I shake my head. “Prohibition hasn’t done well for my family. Capone only trades with the Italians and hates the Irish with a passion. If you partner with my family it would help a lot.”

“He’ll do it.”

We both look to see Polly standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips.

“Oh really, Pol?”

“You make a deal with her or Verena gets a 20% cut,” his aunt orders.

My eyes widen and I wave my hands. “No. No. We don’t accept handouts. We just want to sell whiskey. Even if it’s slightly illegal.”

“So you shall,” Thomas announces, looking between both of us with annoyment. “When do we draw the contract, eh?”

“After the race,” Polly says.

Right. The race. Another derby day full of crowds, gambling, and drinking. Just like the stories of the Sheepshead races Uncle Steenstra talks about. If John plays his cards right then Arthur will be joining us.

I finish putting the finishing touches on my makeup and yell out the door. “Ready, Finn?” 

A scampering noise gets closer and closer and Finn all but crashes into my room. He hastily adjusts his coat and stands to attention.

“As always,” he pants. “Maybe this time you can actually see the race. Nice hat.”

A lovely addition, if I do say so myself. Who knew Polly had such nice hats hidden in her closet? “I thought I’d dress for the occasion. Where’s this race?”

“In Epsom. I promised John I’d escort you to the meeting so you know the plan.”

“Is Ada coming?” I ask as I follow him to the door.

“Yeah, but Tommy’s meeting with her. Said it’s private.”

Don’t be mad. She’s his sister. You just work here. Forget all about Thomas and enjoy yourself for once.

Out in the street we see the cavalry has arrived and is waiting next to a covered truck. Along with John.

“Is Arthur meeting us there?” I ask.

“You tell me!” Arthur walks out from behind the truck, arms spread triumphantly.

My face breaks into a smile. “Arthur! You son-of-a-gun! How was prison?”

“Fucking Hell.”

Another man walks up and I recognize him from the horse sale Thomas took me to. A member of the Lees, I think. An odd man, wearing a patterned ascot.

“Johnny Doggs.” He tips his hat. “Ms. Steenstra. The boys and I must apologize for the last time you met us. Let it be known that today we’re all on the same side.”

Some of the Lees remove their hats while others give me friendly waves.

I give John a cheeky grin. “You told them to say that, didn’t you?”

The Shelby brother rolls his eyes. “They wanted to say sorry. Can we move on?”

“Here comes the boss,” Johnny points to someone behind me.

The handsome gangster struts towards us, cigarette in hand. Being surrounded by the Shelby brothers and Lees really helps distract from any previous emotions for him. It’s time to get my head in the game and be a valuable part of this team.

“There he is.” Thomas opens his arms and embraces his freed brother.

Arthur huffs. “You’re late.”

“I had business.”

“How the fuck did you get me out-a that?”

Thomas claps his shoulder. “I need you today, brother. Pulled some strings. You alright?”

Arthur’s frown is replaced with a grateful smirk. “I am now.”

“So he’s in charge now?” John asks.

“That’s right. And you two are in charge of him,” Thomas clarifies. Finn starts to object but gets cut off. “Finn, you don’t obey orders, you don’t come.” He turns to Johnny Doggs. “Will the Lees be there?”

“The Lees will be there, captain.”

Thomas squints. “Captain?”

“Aye, we promoted you. The boys decided you’re no longer like a sergeant major, fucking them fancy women and using those fancy words.”

I hide my laugh along with the rest of the men. This is hilarious! Thomas is getting joked on and I’m allowed to find it funny!

“Fine, but I’ll take it as a compliment,” Thomas complies. “Just don’t shoot me. Let’s go to the Derby, boys!”

He waves for them to jump in the truck but hesitates when he sees Finn helping me up.

“She’s coming too. I promised she could see a race,” John says.

He thinks for a second. “Very well. Stay in the back while we rally the others.”

Screw you, Thomas Shelby. I’m not waiting around for you to permit me to help. This American can’t be tamed by your charm.

“My God, this place is huge!” I marvel at the elaborate racetrack. “Where are the horses?”

“Over there.” Thomas points to a series of white tents. “You can come with me to see her, if you’d like.”

“Won’t say no to that!”

I don’t wait for him to catch up. This is what a real horse race is like? No wonder Thomas loves horses so much. He shows me to a tent and I spot May waiting inside next to a very sturdy speckled horse.

Thomas wastes no time and begins inspecting the animal. Brushing her coat and checking her eyes.

“Looks in fine shape. Hello hello hello. Kushti bok. Kushti bok, eh?” He murmurs to the horse. “Any troubles?” 

May, still with her arms crossed, shakes her head. “Not at all. Go, drink and enjoy the race. I’ll join later. It's fine, I’ll stay down here in the mud.”

Her words draw out a dose of sympathy from me. Oh, May. You got caught in this too. Unfortunately none of us will be the last to fall for him. We just need to pick up the pieces and move on-

Just then Thomas leans in and presses a kiss on her surprised lips. I take the time to wander off to the corner and inspect the other horses. After everything he still shows affection to any woman but me. And he- He left. He forgot I was even here.

“Sorry about that.” May walks over showing no hostility. “I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”

I try to stay positive. “Hello, May. Lovely to see you again. Good news about the horse, I hope?”

She nods at the magnificent beast. “Grace’s Secret has done a wonderful job. She’s a very sturdy animal.”

Her words cause me to stop stroking her mane. “What’s the horse’s name?”

“Grace’s Secret.”

He’s still thinking about her. I can’t just say nothing. May deserves sympathy, rich or not.

“I’m sorry about…”

“About Thomas breaking off?” she fills in.

Quite witty. No wonder Thomas took to her. “Yes.”

May looks at me with an expression I can’t quite place. “I can see he treats you well. But you’re smart enough to keep him tamed. Keep up with that. You best get back to your party. I’ll be fine here.”

She waits for me to leave but I see no reason to. “No. They have their own business. I can stay here for company, if you wish.”

Her eyes soften at my kind gesture. “That’s gracious of you. Thanks.”

The announcer’s voice overhead says the race is about to begin. Where is the best spot to watch?  I look out and see Thomas standing on the steps with- With Grace. She came here. Of course she did. Wearing a nice pink dress with a matching hat. Looking how any woman wants to be with the man all women want.

“You alright?” May asks when she sees my pale face. “Thomas must be waiting-”

“He’s perfectly fine,” I grit my teeth. “He has plenty to occupy himself with.”

She sees where I’m looking. “It’s the other woman, isn’t it? The one sailing away?”

“One would think.”

Thomas leaves Grace at the bottom of the stairs and I spot Jerimiah sending Lizzie up to Thomas. That son-of-a-! He deals with literally any other woman. Anyone but me.

“He mentioned you once.”

May’s words shake me from my angry thoughts. “For what reasons?”

“Said you made him change his mind about Americans. About educated women. Personally I believe he thinks you’re too innocent for his business. Why stay?”

I keep watching Thomas until he disappears into a bar. “My father once said to me ‘Verena, life is too short to never take chances. With a little luck and the love of God, set your mind to do anything.’ After everything I’ve done here I can’t think of a place that would offer anything so… adventurous.”

May chuckles. “That’s Thomas, alright.”

“Ladies and gentlemen, the race will begin in four minutes. Please be upstanding for the pledge.”

Oh, alright. I’ll respect the pledge of the people who dominated my own country. Why is May not watching?

“You don’t want to watch the race?”

May sits down on a haybale and avoids my gaze. “She’ll do fine.”

“And they’re off!”

There they go! What powerful beasts. So graceful and yet they can decapitate you with one kick.

“Come on, girl. You can do it,” May mutters.

Something else catches my eye. It’s Lizzie again. Leading a stranger away to the barn. Why is she going with…? I thought she gave up being- That man is armed. Oh no.

I keep my eyes on her and start walking out of the tent. “May, I have to go stop something.”

Walking. Jogging. Sprinting! Have to get through this crowd! Where’s Thomas? Arthur? Anyone?

“John!” Thank God! “Have a spare gun?”

He gives me a funny look. “You know guns aren’t allowed. Who says I’ve got one?”

“Please!” I ask urgently.

He takes off his hat and pulls out a small pistol. “Use it wisely.”

I snatch the weapon and weave back into the sea of people. Lord, help me find her! I know we don't always see eye-to-eye but she can be a good person! Don’t let me be too late-!

“Get the fuck off me!” Lizzie shrieks.

I turn the corner and find the uniformed man shoving her against the wall, the wood slicing into her skin.

I cock the pistol. “Step aside. Now!”

A hand from behind pushes me aside and Thomas steps up with his own gun. “Russel!”

The gun clicks but no bullet fires. The man groping Lizzie ducks down and barrels into Thomas, knocking my gun away in the process. I rush to Lizzie’s side and help her stand. She’s reaching for something- 

“It’s ok, Lizzie,” I whisper. “Give me the gun-!”

She shoves me over and tries to fire it herself. It misfires again.

“Tommy!” Lizzie screeches when the man tries to push his own gun against Thomas’ head.

Bang!

But it’s not Thomas who drops dead. It’s the man called Russel. His brains are painted everywhere.

“Where were you?! Where the fuck were you?!” Lizzie rages hysterically and points the defective gun at Thomas.

Death. I just saw someone get murdered. Life taken. I know it’s not my fault but why do I still feel a fraction of the blame? Could I have stopped it, or did he deserve to die? 

“Just go. Go!” 

Lizzie pushes away and storms back to the bleachers. 

“You too, Verena!”

Thomas grabs my hand but I don’t budge right away. How can I? There’s a fresh corpse right across from me.

“Verena.” He kneels in front of me and makes me look at him. “Darling, it’s alright now. You’re safe-”

“It’s not my safety I’m concerned about. It’s him.” I point to the corpse. “I could’ve stopped him, and now he’s dead.”

“I killed him. Not you.” He rips the gun from my limp hand. “What the fuck were you thinking, Verena?!”

“I thought I was helping! I’m sorry my feeble reaction is too soft for you but I’m not a bloody criminal!”

“You’ve kept above water this long! What happened?”

I gawk at his arrogant face. “Oh, like you’ve never made a mistake! You don’t see me rubbing your bad choices in your face.”

We both know what I’m referring to. 

“Get back to the others,” Thomas orders, still glaring straight at me.

Fine. Very well. Fine! I’ll leave you to get killed or whatever bloody plan you’ve got!

I pivot and march through the muddy stalls back to the roaring crowd. By now the coppers have caught on to the gun violence and are swarming everywhere.

I hurry past the group of Peaky Blinders and Arthur leans in to whisper: “Better duck, Steentra. ‘S about to get messy. Tommy’s about to meet with Sabini.”

Someone walks up behind and I see it’s May, now wearing a beautiful red dress. She seems distracted and points to someone in the crowd. “Who is that?”

John looks over and recognizes who she’s pointing at. “Grace. Tommy’s old flame.”

“I see. Have you known her, Verena?”

My eyes sharpen. “Briefly. She’s the one I saw with him earlier.”

“So we are all part of Tom’s basket of women, are we?” May comments.

I nod towards the table where Lizzie’s hunched over. “Lizzie’s in it too.”

More cops brush past and in the chaos I hear May whisper: “At least he hasn’t broken your heart yet.”

The mention of it makes my blood run cold. “Don’t speak too soon.”

May considers something and gets past me. “I’m going to go talk with her.”

“You’ll play nice?” I joke.

“No hostilities, just an introduction.”

“She may not be so gentle.”

@meadows5

[soupbtch]

I’ve been having a really tough time parsing through my feelings about this because they keep changing. It’s kind of silly, too, when you put it under a microscope. All love is, I guess. That’s what this is. And I’ve had a lifelong track record of loving things too hard. Not to say that it isn’t always worth it, though it’s hard to feel that way in the immediate aftermath of things coming to an end before you’re ready.

(Putting the rest of this under the cut because it is entirely too long and personal and self-indulgent. Yes, this is about the OFMD cancellation.)

I’m not a superstitious person, with the exception of talking about things I’m excited about. If I’m waiting for an offer letter from a new job, or to hear from someone, something to happen, I have the constant feeling that if I open my mouth and express my excitement out loud, put my intentions out into the world with my own breath and teeth, push it out with my tongue, it means the thing won’t happen. My words will shift the air and it will bite back. There is shaky, empirical evidence for this. I know that, logically. In my heart, though, the fear of vulnerability lives on. Of being known and seen and disappointed.

The last several years, I got better at guarding my heart. I built strong walls. I’ve kept myself from touching things I know will draw me in too deeply, avoided looking at things I knew would break me in half. Preemptive measures to avoid potential heartbreak. (A large reason for this, I’m sure now, was the long-term (bad) relationship I was in until 7 months ago, which demanded all of my attention and emotions to maintain to the point that anything more pressing to my heart would cause the whole house of cards to collapse around me.) I kept my distance from OFMD until I was sure it wasn’t queerbaiting, after season 1 finished airing. And even as I watched it and immediately after, I kept my mouth shut about wanting a season 2. I wasn’t back on tumblr at the time (another instance of me keeping myself from touching things that will pull me in with crushing force). I only had one real life friend to talk to about the show, and even then, I held back. Only let the words whisper out of the corner of my mouth, eyes shifting. I didn’t want to let myself slip. I didn’t want to show my heart for fear of it getting ripped out. I kept the walls up.

When the season 2 trailer dropped, I felt it creeping in, despite my best efforts. I craved it. With an affable hand, it was tapping on the gate to my heart that had been shut since I left the depths of fandoms in 2013. My bad relationship had ended just a few months prior to this. I was free-falling. Vulnerable.

Season 2 reached for my heart. Tentatively, I opened the gate. I invited it in. I dove towards it. I rejoined tumblr. The brainrot set in not shortly after, a familiar friend. The truth is, it could have been anything. It could have been Good Omens, had I opened the gate a few months earlier. It could have been fucking Doctor Who again. But it wasn’t. It was the gay pirates, the middle-aged men, the nonbinary actor playing a nonbinary character, the people of color, the music, the writing, the story, the actors.

Stede and Ed were experiencing identity crises and so was I. One of the reasons my ex cited for dumping me was that he wasn’t attracted to me anymore after the years of me slowly discovering I was queer and nonbinary while we were together. After I had top surgery, he didn’t love me anymore. He broke up with me during pride month. My identity was coming into focus gradually as the foothold slipped out from under me. Simultaneously, on my TV screen, I see Stede realize he’s in love with Ed. I see Ed lose his grip when his foothold slips out from under him, too; his shaky, fresh identity and bravery free-falling around him under the words “I should have let the English kill you,” spat at him for being soft and vulnerable. I see him lose himself in suicidal patterns, familiar. I feel unlovable, and I hear Ed echo my thoughts. I see him come back from the ledge, healing slowly. I see budding happiness. I see love and self-acceptance. I see the crew experiencing so much queer joy it makes my heart ache. I see the fandom experiencing queer joy around me, too. I experience unbridled queer joy for the first time in my life.

I start reading fanfiction again (a door I kept firmly shut and locked for a decade). I want more, to chase the high of queer joy as I read Ed and Stede finding each other and falling in love again and again, in a million different universes. I deepen my connections. I’m finding my foothold again. I form tentative friendships with other people in the fandom. We excitedly post about the season 3 renewal announcement we’re certain is coming. We laugh. We count down the hours together every day for the first week and a half of 2024. A shared delusion, maybe, but all signs were pointing north, and we were traveling there together. I stand up a little straighter. I feel less afraid of being vulnerable. I feel a little bit more lovable.

I let myself hope. I get excited, confident. I talk about the show and the impending renewal announcement with my own mouth and teeth and breath to anyone who will listen. I push the words out with my tongue as the walls around my heart are reduced to rubble against my ribcage. My heart beats defiantly for the whole world to hear.

We know what happens next. I’m free-falling again. It’s silly, right? I wrote all this out to help myself process my emotions, why the cancellation hit me like a wrecking ball, and I feel sillier for it. I feel silly for my heart being so large, for feeling things too much. I feel silly for letting my guard down and letting myself get hurt. For loving things too hard with no plan of how to let go. After a lifetime of this, I should know better.

This show doesn’t define who I am; I already had a pretty firm grasp on that before I ever hit play on the pilot. It’s not life or death. But it helped me find my tender heart again, the me from 10 years ago, the fearless one. It made me fearless again. It made me love again. And at the end of the day, season 3 or no, that means the most to me, and I am endlessly thankful for this heartbreak.

If we’ve never talked before, hi, I’m Danny. Thanks for reading this. I love y’all, crazy little gay people in my phone. I will keep talking about OFMD until the day I die. Hold my hand, let’s be fearless together.