#if i can just translate my thoughts to words you'll understand but like. wine and katabasis and shit. that's venti
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if you only have to watch one (1) genshin lore video, I highly recommend this one. not because it's a beginner-friendly guide to those new to the lore (it's not), but because the vibes of this theory are immaculate and explains like... the kinds of things that fascinate me about the game
paimon is consecrated for consumption, in a eucharist way. blood is wine is memories is life is power. ambrosia for ascension. the blood to the traveler's bones
there are so many things in the game that seem like innocuous off-hand comments but when put into a bigger picture, is so ???
like. do you ever think about how paimon likes to eat slimes because they are pure elemental energy, and she functions as the traveler's conduit for the elements similar to a vision for vision-wielders (even though she is not a vision)
and what does this mean for the traveler who is hinted to be a star? how much can they consume before they "collapse under their own gravity", so to speak
I really have nothing to add, I just wanted to share how much I love the vibes of the content of this video. this is peak genshin theorizing to me
#mine musings#liveblogging genshin#the stuff about chaotic spacetime and block universe are interesting too but not NEARLY as fun as “paimon is literal emergency food” imo#also because like. time travel shenanigans and quantum stuff aren't that new in scifi so it's like. neat but whatever#personally i'm starry-eyed over the idea of “blood is wine is memories is life” like. the implicationsss of that in genshin#“death is a one-time loss of memory” like man if i can just translate my thoughts about how venti IS a psychopomp#like ashikai did a video on that too but i'm going one step further to say that if istaroth is kairos#then venti is orpheus. if not ORPHIC DIONYSUS#if i can just translate my thoughts to words you'll understand but like. wine and katabasis and shit. that's venti#as long as you view death as tied to memories and wind is the carrier of memories and kairos is both weather and time#and venti is a strand of the thousand winds if not a fragment of istaroth herself#and acts like the psychopomp to stanley and promotes wine and festivities#and also did you know western theater was birthed in dionysian festivals#and how orphic theogony talks about phanes as the primeval god if not dionysus himself and dionysus is the twice born god and--#anyway. yeah. i went off topic. i just wanted to say that traveler having communion with paimon as the sacramental offering is 👌 👌 👌#genshin lore
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deal - cl16 (1/?)
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it's his apartment.
Chapter Summary: The best tactic to defend yourself from a stranger? Being dressed only in a towel and having a newspaper in hand, of course.
Warnings: google translated French (I didn't put the translations in the story, but there's a reason to it! maybe you'll figure it out through the series!)
Word Count: 3.1k
series masterlist
A/N: here it is my friends! the first chapter! I'm not sure about tagging people. bad experience and stuff. I still hope you like it! feedback is appreciated! love ya.
The apartment is dead quiet when you get home. Tired, you flick on the kitchen light and toss your gym bag into your small bedroom before grabbing a wine glass from the shelf. You twist the cap off the cheap white wine sitting on the bottom shelf of the small fridge with your teeth, and spit it away. You wouldn't need the cap anymore. You would drink the bottle empty today.
The whole last week had been unbelievably lousy. Your boss had fired you for a mistake you weren't responsible for, and even though you didn't like working there, you were on the money.
A few months ago, you had moved to Monaco for that very job. You left your family behind. Built a new life here. Only to find yourself without a job, without opportunities, without prospects.
You sit down on one of the two chairs at the dining table and open your laptop. Since you were kicked out, the home page of your Internet browser has been searching for suitable job offers, but you haven't found anything yet. You're glad that you've put aside enough money every month to be able to keep this apartment for a few more weeks. And after that, it's either take the next best job, no matter how underpaid it is and no matter how unhappy it would make you, or move back in with your parents.
You'd rather live under a bridge than back with your parents.
Frustrated, you close the laptop. It's hard to find a job in Monaco unless you're already a big shot or born into a good family. And as a former, small-time magazine photographer, you're neither.
You leave the laptop and your sweaty gym clothes in the bedroom as you head to the bathroom for a shower. The warm water feels good on your skin and tense muscles. The lavender shampoo calms your senses and nerves a bit, but you can't flush that nagging lingering thought - what happens if you don't find a new job? - down the drain, unfortunately.
Ideally, you'd like to stay here, in Monaco. Why not? Life here is great and the people are so friendly that you don't even want to think about leaving it all behind. But the possibilities are limited. And time is running against you.
You step out of the shower, wrap your hair and body in soft towels, and walk out of the bathroom.
And just at that moment, the apartment door opens.
"What the hell?"
The young man suddenly standing in the hallway wrenches his eyes open at your words and winces. Apparently, he wasn't expecting anyone either.
"What the heck are you doing in my apartment?" you yell at him, grabbing the nearest object you could use to defend yourself from the intruder. Unfortunately, it's just a magazine from your old job. You roll it up and point it at him.
"In your apartment?" he asks, confused, dropping the large bag hanging around his shoulder to the floor. He doesn't take his eyes off you. It's like you're the crazy one standing in his apartment all of a sudden. "What do you mean?" He raises his hands placatingly as you take a small step toward him on bare feet with the newspaper.
"Are you stupid? What don't you understand about 'my apartment'?" Your voice sounds a little shrill. You roll the newspaper up tighter in your hands. Not that you can particularly do anything about the man. Just wrapped in a towel and with that little bit of paper. Besides, he's at least a whole head taller. And definitely stronger, judging by his stature.
The young man lowers his hand to let it disappear into his left pants pocket. You wave your arms behind your head - like Rapunzel with her frying pan. If he tried anything, you'd have enough momentum to maybe hurt him.
"Calm down. I'm not going to hurt you." He fishes something out of his back pocket and holds it up. Dangling from his finger is a jingling silver key. "This is my key. For my apartment. The one I bought." He enunciates each word one at a time, as if you're a child who must somehow be made to understand why two plus two does not equal five. Step by step.
You narrow your eyes. The newspaper stays in place behind your head. "I rented the apartment. A few months ago." You shift your feet apart a little to get a firmer footing. "If it really is your apartment, where have you been for the last few months?"
Confused, he looks at you as if you must know where he'd been. Then he rubs his forehead with his free hand. "Can I sit down? My day has been incredibly tiring and I'm exhausted." He takes a step toward the dining room table, where your wine glass still sits.
"If you take one more step, I'm going to scream."
He rolls his eyes, but stops anyway. "I'm too tired for this shit," he retorts, annoyed, running a hand through his brown hair. "This is my place. I don't know how you got in here or who's supposed to have rented it to you, but you pack your shit now and get out. Before I call the police."
"Why do you want to call the police? You're standing in my apartment!"
"This is not your apartment!"
Like two lions about to go for each other's throats, you stare at each other.
"You leave my apartment now before I call Joris and he throws you out," you threaten him. When he starts in with the cops, you continue with your landlord. If suddenly the cops are in your apartment, he would be informed either way. At least then you could give him a heads up if he really did call the cops.
Apparently your words triggered something in him, because he lowers his arms and his shoulders relax a little. "Joris? Joris Trouche?"
The fact that he knows your landlord's last name unnerves you enough that you lower your arms as well. The newspaper, however, you still hold in one hand. "How do you know Joris?"
The man no longer looks annoyed, but seriously confused. "Joris is one of my closest friends," he explains. "I bought the apartment in his name. Did he rent it to you?"
Friends? Bought it in his name?
"He did. A few months ago," you answer him. You're not facing each other like lions now, but rather like two deer who don't know exactly how to act. You chew on your lower lip, undecided about what to do.
"I'll call him." As the man pulls his cell phone from his back pants pocket, you can only stare at him in disbelief. If his Joris is really your Joris - what happens next? If he bought the apartment, will you have to move out? You have a valid rental contract. Will it be terminated then? Will you have to move under the next best bridge sooner than expected? Does Monte Carlo have any bridges?
"Good evening, Joris." You didn't even notice that he had already dialed the number. He's not holding the phone to his ear, but in front of his mouth, and you can see he's activated the speaker.
"Hi, buddy. Did you have a good flight?", Joris voice actually rings out.
Your heart stops for a moment and the newspaper falls out of your hand. The man takes one look at the paper and then at your face. "I did, thanks." He licks his lower lip once with his tongue. "I just arrived at my apartment. You know, my second apartment. The one that's in your name."
On the other side of the phone, it's suspiciously quiet. As if transfixed, you stare at the cell phone in his hand, hoping it's all a big mistake. That this already shitty week isn't about to get even shittier.
"I can explain." Fuck.
While Joris explains to his "buddy" what's going on - "I had rented out the apartment so that it wouldn't get miserably dusty. Besides, it would be completely stupid not to rent out a great apartment and let the money slip through your fingers. I couldn't have known you'd go there. I thought the apartment was only for emergencies." - you sit down at the dining table, still wrapped in your towel, and drink the rest of your wine in one go.
"C'est une urgence!" The man turns off the speaker and holds the phone to his ear. "Je ne peux pas et ne veux pas aller dans l'autre appartement! Tu sais pourquoi! Et maintenant, tu loues ma retraite sans m'en parler? Qu'est-ce que je vais faire maintenant, Joris?" His French is too fast for you to understand in the least. Judging by the wild flailing of his hand, he can't be saying anything good. He raises his hand, touches his thumb to his other fingertips, then holds it to his forehead. His face is flushed as he nags stressedly into the receiver, and you can even see the vein on his neck. "Je ne vais certainement pas à l'hôtel! Comme "pourquoi pas"? Parce que j'ai une résidence secondaire, espèce de crétin! Je peux difficilement l'expulser maintenant de l'appartment que tu lui as loué! Alors je suis le connard qui a jeté une jeune femme à la rue! Comment crois-tu que le gros titres vont suivre?"
While you understand a few words like hotel, idiot, woman - almost certainly meaning you - and headlines, your French is not so good, even after months in Monaco, that you could easily understand him.
"Je me fiche qu'elle soit sexy. Tu ne peux quand même pas laisser quelqu'un vivre dans mon appartement!" He puts his thumb and forefinger to his nose bone. "I'm really too tired for this, Joris. We'll talk tomorrow," he ends the conversation back in English and sits down in the chair across from you. He places the cell phone on the table before drumming his fingertips on the tabletop. "We'll summarize. You have a valid lease on my apartment. I have nowhere else to go. So I have to stay here. What's the plan?" He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms in front of his chest.
You stare at him. "I should put some clothes on first." Wordlessly, you get up and disappear into the bedroom before he can say anything back. You quickly change, slipping into a dark green Adidas sweater and comfortable yoga pants, and quickly comb your hair. When you leave the room, the man is no longer sitting at the table, but stands in the small kitchen and - cooks?
"I haven't eaten anything today," the man says without glancing in your direction. "And you still had some stuff in the fridge."
You reach for the wine bottle and pour some more into the glass before taking a big gulp. "And you think you could just grab my groceries and cook yourself something?" you ask snarkily. He acts like he's at home. Like this is his apartment.
Well, it is, in theory.
"I'm making two servings. For you and for me. I'm not a monster." He glances at you out of the corner of his eye as you lean against the fridge to watch him. "Maybe we should start over. Completely new." He turns the piece of chicken in the pan. "What's your name?"
"Y/N" You tilt your head. "And you?"
He furrows his eyebrows in confusion before giving the noodles in the pot a single stir. But as suddenly as the confusion was on his face, it's gone just as quickly. "Charles."
Sharl. The French pronunciation of Charles. And you have to admit, it suits him. As he cooks, you watch him, racking your brains on how to proceed now.
The apartment is small, but living with two people in it could work. One would sleep in the bed, the other on the couch. There would have to be a bathroom plan. And a cleaning schedule. And-
"Can you pour me a drink, too, please?" asks Charles, spreading the food on two plates. He sets them on the table and pulls two forks out of a drawer.
"What would you like? Wine?" When he nods, you take a second wine glass and pour him the last of your wine. As he sits down, you look at him skeptically.
Charles raises his eyebrows. "What is it?"
You tighten your mouth into a thin line. "That's my seat."
"Well, there's another chair. Why don't you take that one?"
Uncertainly, you teeter from one foot to the other. You don't want to seem like a crazy person, but in the few months you've lived here, you've always sat in the same chair. You want to keep it that way.
When you don't move, he rolls his eyes, but then sits down in the chair across from you. "Better?"
His food tastes better than expected. To be honest, it tastes better than anything you've ever cooked. But you don't tell him that, of course.
"I don't know how much you overheard of my conversation with Joris" - you overheard everything, you just didn't understand anything - "but I'm afraid I have nowhere else to go. Personal reasons." He pokes at his chicken for a moment. "And I don't want to put you out on the street, either, of course. I can't at all. After all, you have a valid lease and I can't just kick you out, even if it is my apartment." He looks up from his food and looks at you. His eyes are an impossibly beautiful green.
"What do you say we live here together? Just until my situation eases up," he suggests. Before you can say anything, he continues speaking. "I know the apartment is small and there's only one bed, but if we agree on cleaning and shopping and everything, I'm sure we can work it out."
There's a sparkle in his eye. You'd like to know why he can't go to his other apartment. Why he can't go to a hotel. Why he absolutely has to go to his second apartment. But he said himself it was an emergency. And you've known each other for what? An hour? Even if you asked, he certainly wouldn't tell you.
Private is private.
And maybe it's not permanent. True, you could say on your own that you could go to a hotel, but on what money? For sure you could negotiate with Joris. You move out and stop paying rent. But what if you happen to find a job after all? Then you'd have to look for a new apartment again, because hotels in Monaco aren't exactly cheap. And you certainly won't get a cheaper apartment than this one.
"All right."
Charles doesn't seem particularly surprised, but relieved nonetheless. More like his suggestion wasn't a suggestion, but a fact you'd have to agree to. Which makes you very uneasy.
Maybe he's the kind of guy who takes advantage of his looks to trick young women like you and then murder them in their sleep. Or maybe he'll drug you and sell you to the nearest human trafficker. Or-
"Then maybe we should talk about the sleeping arrangement." He takes a sip of wine and screws up his face. "I thought this was dry wine."
"Dry wine is gross."
Charles exhales audibly. "That's debatable. Whatever." He puts the glass back, but a little farther away than you had put it earlier. "You can sleep in the bed for all I care. I'll sleep on the couch. It shouldn't be that uncomfortable. Except - if it's okay with you - sometimes I'd like to sleep in the bedroom to save my back." His offer sounds reasonable. Once you fell asleep on the couch from fatigue. You could have saved yourself the backache the next day.
"No problem." You smile kindly at him. "Thanks. For letting me have the bed, I mean." And for not kicking me out.
He nods before standing up, taking the two empty plates and placing them in the sink. Charles turns around, hands braced on the ledge behind him. "We can wash this tomorrow, if you like. I'm too tired for that now. And you don't seem like you're particularly up for it right now, either."
He's right. Although your fingers are itching to wash the dishes and put everything in its place, you're so exhausted from the day and the terror of suddenly having a stranger in your apartment that you could fall asleep standing up. So you just nod.
"I'll just go brush my teeth. Then you can go to the bathroom."
Charles sticks his thumb up before you disappear into the bathroom and quickly get ready for bed. Thank goodness you cleaned the whole apartment yesterday, so you don't have to worry about things lying around or dirt.
As you exit the bathroom, Charles is settling into the couch. "I grabbed the second set of bedding from the closet in the hallway. You certainly don't need that, do you?" he asks. You shake your head. "Great. I sleep without an alarm clock until 9 most nights. So would be great if you could keep it down until then. The walls aren't very thick, I'm afraid." He spreads out the comforter while you stand in the room, still unsure, watching him. "Do you have to go to work tomorrow? No? Great. Then we can talk about the rest tomorrow. About cleaning and stuff. We'll figure it out." His smile is almost infectious as he pushes past you to go to the bathroom. "Good night, Y/N."
Just before he closes the bathroom door behind him, you see him pull his shirt over his head and his back muscles move under his tanned skin.
Just at that moment, your cell phone rings. Without looking to see who's calling, you push the caller away. There is only one person who could be calling at such a late hour. And you definitely don't want to talk to that person.
A few minutes later, you're lying in bed with the covers pulled up to your chin and the door locked for safety - you never know - and you're racking your brains about what needs to be sorted out tomorrow. And whether the whole thing might not have been a stupid idea after all.
Living with a complete stranger? Who could possibly kill you in the night? Or worse - could put you out on the street from one moment to the next?
You turn on your side, one hand tucked under your cheek, the other between your knees.
Maybe Charles is nice enough and living together works out great. Maybe you'll even become friends. Anything is possible.
And apart from that - you don't have any other choice.
Neither of you can go anywhere else. You both need this apartment.
That you both also need each other, you don't know at this point.
next part
#Charles Leclerc#charles leclerc blurb#charles leclerc prompt#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc#f1#charles leclerc fluff#Carlos sainz#charles leclerc one shot#charles leclerc x reader#Charles Leclerc fanfiction
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Hey sorry to disturb you but can you write about reader trying to delete genshin because they couldn't download the update but for some reason they couldn't? The self awares are desperately trying to stop that. I wanna see the chaos and angst 😈
HEY GUYS LOOK
🎉MY FİRST ASK!!!🎉
İ feel even happier than a certain bard in wine festival--
İ was gonna send it earlier but i felt lasy to open my computer and draw ;;
Also im sorry if somethings don't make sense i used translator for some parts cus english isn't my main
More under the cut!
Reader deleting genshin
You took a frustrated sigh, another error, you wondered how many you've gotten in the past hour.
For some reason, your favorite games update is taking a bit long, crashing midway or giving an error that causes the download to restart again.
İnternet isn't giving much answers to you either. You tried almost everything you could try, to opening more storage space to deleting your game photo file, and at this point, you were growing desperate.
İnside the game, your characters were worried. You certainly took your time, they knew it was profably not too much of an issue and you were just busy. But for those who grow anxious EVERYTİME that you grow late, like Zhongli, Jean and Ninguang, it was a diffrent story...
Why are you late? İs everything alright in your world? Are you abandoning them? Did they do something not to your liking? Were their damage low? Will you log in faster if they do better?
Not knowing what you think or what happens in your world is killing them, they need to see you, HEAR you, so then maybe... Maybe you'll see them as well.
What took you so long? They need you...
When Buer was born, the first thing she could feel is how grass felt on her knees as she sat down, how flowers smelled like a dream and how vibrant everything was! She seemed to know everything, remember everyone and understand everything at that moment. While knowing nothing at the same time! How curious she was at everything she saw and felt!
But at the base of it all, she knew where all of this was created, she knew you.
She could only feel gratefull to you for creating such a wonderfull world, the world where countless travelers and artists fell in love. After all of the feelings she felt about you and your world, how could she say no when the Archons asked her about what they can do to meet you.
She wants to show people how perfect you are!
"Might as well delete it. Maybe that will fix all my problems?"
This was the first thing they heard you say. All of the Archons froze in their places.
Delete? What do you mean? Why would you.. no.. how could you?!
First person to finaly stop the dead silence in the area was the god of freedom, Barbatos.
"Delete it? Are they talking about... No that can't be! They love us! They said so themselves!"
"Barbatos-"
"They won't do it! İ KNOW they won't! They're talking about another world! Or, or..."
"what is.... İs that... Paimon? The travelers friend?" Buer looked at the big canvas (Or perhaps a window to another world). What is the meaning of this?
"Barbatos are you seeing what im seeing..?" Spoke up the god of contracts. Pointing out a big picture with some words on it, and on the picture there was...
God of justice looked around, and saw a triangle looking white thing fly across the artwork that is displayed infront of them.
Their thoughts were cut short by the sudden feeling of emptiness and screams they can feel from their followers.
Buer fell to her knees with a scream, it sting, it hurt to breath, the very feeling of the things she hold near being tore apart broke her heart and her core.
She felt the trees get reduce to nothing, something big and dark swallowed everything,
She saw her people, her first followers, trying to protect their nations with everything they got,
General Mahamatra moving people away from the empty, dark spaces to 'safety', Dancer Nilou helped him with controlling a huge crowd,
Forest ranger Tighnari's situation was worse, he tried to stop the hatred from spreading even from plants,
the academia has just Heard of all of this but the unforgiving wrath of the creator was too fast, Buer felt their followers' bones get crushed with force and skins get stretched in impossible ways. She died with her followers, countless times, but all she could do was watch as you took away the world she fell in love with..
"why are you angry? Why are we the ones that are suffering from it? Do you hate us that much...." Was all of the questions that she wont have the time to get them answered.
The second to grow affected was morax, before reaching out to help his friend he instead fell to the ground, he was... Crying.. he could hear and feel his peoples painfull cries and prayers for him. And yet he couldnt move, couldnt breath, what is this power? İs this what it feels like to suffer from his gods wrath?
He worshiped you the longest, she knew about your presence the longest so... Why?
He saw xiao, trying to keep the void from reaching wangshu Inn, by nearby monsters, weapons, ANYTHİNG to stop it from reaching the öne place he could call home. Some of The things he threw didnt got deleted and stayed in that position, but some were stuck mid air.
He saw liyue, as ninguang tried to stop the void by sacraficing the jade Chamber again, it got deleted and everything was destroyer before even reaching to the ground, including people.
"How could you do such a thing? Were we not enough? Even so, we didnt deserve it, no, They... They didnt deserve it. Please hear our prayers, they dont deserve to die your Grace, not like this... Please not like this"
Beelzebub tried to run away, to her own people, but was stoped by the god of natlan, what is the point? İt is in ruins now, it cannot be saved.
Her knees gave up as the harsh truth hit her, she promised her people a dream, a dream that their nation will reach eternity, live longer than gods and all the nations combined.
She saw yae just sitting near the shrine and enjoying tea, perhaps she didnt knew, but she doubted that she would do anything if she even did.
Kujou sara and sangonomia kokomi joined their powers to make sure the losses were minimum, but before they could even begin the plan...
She lost everything once again, what did morax say about you? How kind and forgiving you are? İf it were the case, why would you take everything from her for the 5th time?
"....i have failed.... Them..."
Before all of the gods got to the ground with a burning feeling accross their chest and their body, the god of justice turned to the painting of you and put her head on the ground,
"Your highness please, please forgive us and our followers for our sins, if the fault is ours we will pay it with our blood, but please... Don't take your anger from us, your followers, please dont destroy the world please PLEASE WE BEG OF YOU-"
"İt is futile...." Buer managed to speak, pain worsening by the second "they... c- cant hear us without.... Without the aid of our own world..."
"They're praying to us.. to THEM! We have t-to do something!!" Barbatos screamed, he was always there for his nation when they realy need it, he won't let it be the first time he wasn't!
He can feel the Tevat strugling to breath as all plantlife and elements are being corrupted.
He looked up from where he is, at your painting, you helped his people once, made them live another day, he was eternaly gratefull to you for it.
But why? Why are you taking back what you once gave without even thinking? İs this all a game to you? Do they even matter to you?
He listened to his followers last thoughts, they too were asking the same.
"All of them gave up their freedom for you, for you to explore this world to your hearts content. What made you so cruel to them?" Jean asked while trying to protect the last citizen of Mondstadt, despite her invisible limbs she kept on fighting nothingness, even if that meant angering you further.
They screamed untill their throaths bled, trying to get your attention in anyway possible, but you weren't paying them any mind. You were busy looking at another painting.
Untill they.. stoped.
.
.
.
.
.
As the deletion bar almost filled up, all of their pain seemed to vanish. Asking themselves;
Why... Why were they here?
They wanted to protect someone? Some... People? But how?
As far as they can remember, its always been them alone.
They were sad and angry but why? They cant even remember anymore.
As the last archon stood there to look at you, they could only say nonsense that theyre not even sure what it means;
"i hate you, creator"
-------------------------------------------
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Quick scetch of the currently known archons being traumatised BC of us ;; (i always delete my game and re install BC of the update oop-)
Mfs trying to confort you about it but was too stuned to speak
#genshin sagau#i honestly feel bad for my characters now#sagau#sagau brainrot#sagau x reader#self aware genshin#genshin x you#genshin isekai#genshin impact sagau#sagau cult au#genshin x reader#genshin impact venti#genshin ei#genshin nahida#genshin zhongli
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probably a strange question but: how did you develop your style when it comes to poetry? I really appreciate how you write and how it's vague and specific at the same time? don't know how to express what I mean exactly, but it's like phrases that you feel more than you really understand them sometimes, and that don't look like they should make sense at a glance but when you really read them they do. maybe you'll know what quality I mean 🙈 I feel like I'm way too literal when I write and I want to be a little more abstract in a say less, convey more kind of a way?
hey anon, thank you! not a strange question at all - it’s actually a very good question, and one that i was asking until recently as well (and to be honest am still asking!). i totally know what you mean.
i guess the shortest answer i can give you is that i think ‘poetic feeling’ is best felt full-on, but expressed to the side. it’s also something that genuinely does get easier the more you try to do it, i.e., is a skill that can be sharpened; to start with, everything feels like nonsense, or not quite right, and i felt like a bit of a fake initially, but as i did it more and more i had more and more tiny breakthroughs and gained confidence (which is a genuinely such a large part of any creative endeavour), and this can happen surprisingly fast and snowball; i switched up my style in maybe 1-3 months, just trying a little bit - maybe 15 lines - every couple of days or so. and i didn’t put pressure on myself, deciding if i hated it i’d delete it and reminding myself that no one had to see. i find writing short poems also really helps with practising: they can help you focus more intensely on each choice.
it’s also not a solo thing, or at least doesn’t have to be - i use random word generators, to different degrees depending on the poem, and also it’s surprising how much even just picking words off wikipedia can help, especially with themed poetry. recently i wrote a poem about the medieval period, and threw in words that came to me with terms from wiki pages about the medieval period (history, art, medicine, etc), to make noun phrases like ‘kaleidoscopic altar vision noise’, ‘law texture’, etc etc. the thing that’s helped me most, though, is reading other poems which i think have this quality, which tends especially to be image-heavy poetry: will stone’s translation of trakl completely changed the direction of my poetry, and lorca, rilke and seferis have also been invaluable. i also find authors that do weird things with syntax interesting, like e. e. cummings and j. h. prynne, but don’t go quite as far as them. i have a list of favourite poems which might help, and which i re-read regularly ❤️
something else i enjoy doing is practising reading and misremembering, which sounds like cheating but is actually an excellent way of generating new material. i remember reading (i think it’s this article) alexandra cook’s 'creative memory and visual image in chaucer’s house of fame' and it was a breakthrough for me. from memory (ironic - wish i still had access so i could properly quote from it/check stuff) it talked about how one dimension to medieval creativity was misremembering - that new ideas and originality came from the gap between what the work actually was and how another writer remembered it. trying to deliberately misremember is a lot of fun; a poem is then borne out of an interesting intersection of skill and contingency, which gives it an energy, i think.
on a kind of separate but related note, the classical ars memoriae, or ‘art of memory’, might be quite an interesting thing to play with in relation to writing poetry. what it is, for anyone that’s not familiar with it, is basically the notion that the way to remember things is by having some kind of system in your head - like spatialising the material (so you think about the room you first encountered it in and all the details to help you better remember it), imagining it in a sequence, breaking it up into sets - there are absolutely loads of ways. if this seems weird or alien, we still use mind maps all the time, which is a great example! to deliberately twist, literalise and tbh actually invert the art of memory stuff (i know this is a bit abstract eek), i’ve been thinking recently that it might be fun to distort ideas (themes, an image you like, a line you like) by running them through various ancient memory systems, because i think medieval thought had a point that these systems subtly distort things even as and precisely because their function is get us to remember them accurately (paradoxically, we bend them to our chosen way of thinking/remembering stuff, which alters the material). using ways of memorising we wouldn’t normally use, and forcing them to interact with material much more literally, can yield quite interesting results. in any case, it introduces different ‘head spaces’ which can be quite useful to take in a very loose way when trying to ‘think to the side’: here’s a starting list. to give quite a crude and simplified example, let’s say i’m obsessed with homer’s wine dark sea and want to write something based on it, but also different and original. what if i try to think of ‘wine dark sea’ as sequential (thinking of material in a sequence being one way of remembering things listed on the above wikipedia link)? i’m honestly not sure what that means, and i can’t envision that. it doesn’t even make sense, and is a deliberate perversion of what memorising things in a sequence would actually look like - ‘wine dark sea’ would be one chain in a sequence if the sequence was, e.g., ‘favourite quotes’. ‘wine dark sea’ itself can’t be a sequence; this would turn ‘wine dark sea’ into something logical, mathematical even. but then the phrase ‘mathematical wine dark sea’ is interesting and unexpected. and you can then play with that or variations of it - ‘wine sea: dark, mathematical’ would make a great opening line, and ‘wine sea mathematics’ and ‘wine dark mathematics’ are really interesting phrases (you know actually i quite like this - might go and write a poem about it now... lol).
that last bit is very speculative and i’m kind of thinking out loud, so feel free to ignore haha. i wrote a post on writing poetry a couple of years ago, too, which might have a couple of useful tidbits. i hope some of this is helpful!!
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Challenge 1
Special thanks to @damian-schreave and @hadleyjaneharper for the rps.
Also the last section is not in fic format because its 2am, im lazy, and you get the gyst from the RP. Apperantly this is too long so part 2 soon.
The Prince was off in Paloma for a bit so we were of little use in the Palace, no idea why they had us move in so early. Therefore, I’d spent most of the day with some books I’d grabbed from the library. Primarily they were legal books since it never hurts to brush up. But every once in a while, such as now I’d need to go and grab some food.
I brought my notepad and a book on contract law with me and walked into the kitchen. There was another girl also in the kitchen. We haven't spoken to each other, she didn’t seem unfriendly or particularly awful company, just hadn’t really had the moment to. I grabbed a plate of fruit and wondered if she would say anything. After a moment I sat down and resumed reading.
Then a small sad sigh came from the young woman who was looking down at her phone with a sad face. It wouldn’t be too bad if I took a break for some conversation. However, the young woman looked troubled, she may not be in the mood. I yawned and stretched then mumbled, but loud enough for her to hear, “God, I could use a drink.” and wondered if the other would take the bait.
There was a beat before the other spoke, “Long day?”
“More or less. Lots of reading, missing work. How about yourself?”
She shrugged “Its...different than what I’m used to. Lots of sitting still when I’m used to spending my days moving around.” SHe grimaces then sighed, “The adjustment period is always the toughest, though.”
I thought for a moment trying to remember the occupations of the selected, “The dancer?” I asked.
She grinned “Yeah. Hadley.” She raised an eyebrow, “And you?”
“Lawyer.” I said and stood from the table, walked over to Hadley and held her hand out, “Savannah Mars, Labrador, three.”
She shook my hand, “Nice to meet you.” then thought for a moment, “You said you were missing work? Do you work at a law firm?”
“Kinda. I work for the Illean Civil Liberties Union in their legal division. It's a non-profit which focuses on civil rights and for me civil legal cases. Lgbt+ rights defense, domestic defense, that sort of thing.”
“Oh, that’s really cool.” She said, seeming actually interested in my work. “Are you missing the casework, or something else?”
“It's pretty hard for me to step back from my work. Since I'm kind of left worrying about my clients. A new guy took over my cases but I'm trying to still work in my own way by studying up on some legal sections I work in less frequently but still may come up. Such as contract law.” I explained not fully hearing her other question.
She nodded, “I understand, sort of. I’m left worrying about how my ballet company is going to perform, with somebody else taking over the role in the Nutcracker that I’ve had the past few years.”
“Yeah the transition really is nerve wracking. Have you seen them perform though?” I asked hoping that could at least provide some solace.
“I’ve seen pictures on Instagram, but no videos yet. We were just finishing up our performance of Cinderella when I left. Nutcracker rehearsal started a few days after, but it’s a show we do each year, so... “ She sighed “ It /should/ be fine.”
I nodded, “well if they assigned them the role try and have faith in their qualifications. That's what I'm keeping in mind for mine. They did go to law school so it's fine. They got the role so it’s fine.” I said partially for her and partially for me.
She sighed a little hesitant, “Yeah, you’re probably right. Competition is just gonna be a bitch and a half when I’m sent back.” She chuckled wryly.
“Well maybe you'll win and then you won't have too. Who’s gonna take a role away from the future queen of Illea.”
“That’s extremely unlikely to happen.” She then almost smirked “What about you? If you win, nobody’s going to tell you no in a courtroom.”
I laughed, “If I win I'll kill myself.” Then I realized how dark that sounded, though it didn’t seem to phase her.
“I hate to say that I feel the same way, but…” She shrugged and nodded, “I feel the same way” For a moment I was confused, why would she join if she felt the same way? Then it clicked, a dancer would be a five, lower class, need the money.
“You're a five right? Did you apply for the money? If you don't mind my asking that is. It would just make sense why you'd dislike to win.”
“It…” She bit her lip, “Kind of? It’s a long story involving a deadbeat mom, a shitty health care system, two starving artists, and a kid with leukemia.” She said with an apologetic smile. Whatever she’d be apologizing for I can’t say.
“Well shit man, I'm glad you got in then. Both for the money and for a break from that. I know this society fucking sucks and we've got a likely shit for brains hier, but if you ever need a lawyer I'm here to help. Hopefully, being a three now will provide some help for you too.” I said then caught myself making a mental note to not be so vulgar with my language.
She gave me a small smile, “Thanks. Now I just have to figure out what I’m doing with the rest of my life, after throwing my career into dance, only to become a Three.” She laughed, “What about you? Why did you enter? It sounds like you had a pretty cushy gig going on.”
It wouldn’t be smart to tell the truth, but lying when Hadley had been so open felt wrong, I sighed and said, “My brother. Basically he forged my entry and I didn't want him to get into legal troubles for that. He's a fucking idiot.” I sighed and let that last cuss word slide as he is a fucking idiot.
She snorted, “Men really do only have two brain cells.” She gave a small smile, “I’m sorry that you ended up in that situation, though. That’s rough.”
“Yeah. I tried to beat him up but my other brothers stopped me. It was really a mess. Had to find out from a waitress asking for a photo with me.”
She shook her head, “My best friend told me that he was so upset to see me, “throwing my life away,” as if I hadn’t entered to help him and his brother.” Sounds like an ungrateful ass. She sighed and looked down at her fruit, “When did life get this messed up?”
A question with too big of an answer. A bit panicked and not knowing what to say I took a strawberry off my plate and held it out to her, “Fruit?”
She chuckled and took the strawberry, “Thanks.” She takes a bit, chews, and then pauses, looking at Savannah, “You know what I could really go for right now, though? A good gin and tonic.”
“God that'd be great. You know what, let's make some. One glass can't hurt.”
She shrugged, “Sure, sounds fun. I’m down.” She looks around, “I know they keep the wine in that cabinet, but I haven’t found the liquor yet.”
After gathering our ingredients we get to work making the glasses, “so, what's your plan in all this?”
“In the selection?” She raises an eyebrow and then shrugs, she starts pouring things into the mixer bottle, “Stay here for as long as I can so I keep making stimulus checks, and then get sent home before I’m stuck spending the rest of my life here.” She finishes pouring and looks at Savannah, “You?”
I sighed, “about the same. Give the money to the non-profit I work for. I was hoping I could root for you to win, you seem like you have a good head on your shoulders to influence him, but the more I think about it the more I realize that's like damning to hell.
She snorts, “Well, I still appreciate the compliment, and I would’ve said the same about you.” Then she sighs, “I’ve always known that it’s been like this, though. He gets to squander every penny he has on luxury shit, whereas my paychecks…” another sigh, “But life isn’t fair.”
“Yeah. And then waste the money on useless shit and trying to pass dumb laws like making 'cats' illegal instead of actually fixing the problems in this country.” I said and poured myself a glass of the drink.
She poured some for herself and then shook her head with an eye roll, “Don’t even get me started on that debacle. Why even joke about things like that?”
“Because he doesn't comprehend how the people of his own country are suffering. He's just so blind with privilege. Not that I have much to speak on but at least I freaking try to think about others in the country and their situations.”
She gave me a small smile, “You didn’t seem like the type to blow your money on worthless things to me, at all. I don’t even know what I’m going to say to him when we have that interview in a few days.”
“Yeah I think im just gonna be polite for the sake of not causing a scene that'll haunt me my whole life” I said and took a sip, then clarified, “polite though, not kind.”
She nodded then drank too, “I really went from putting on one type of show for Twos to another.”
“Any idea what you're gonna do as a three?” I asked.
She pursed her lips and shook her head, “I haven’t taken a science or maths class since I was eleven, and I don’t have the money for university. I guess I could work as a translator, or if that doesn’t work out, marry a five and go back to dancing.” She took another sip of her drink, “Hopefully I’ll be here long enough to figure it out.”
“Do they not have like threes who are dance teachers? I haven't really looked much into the area myself but it may make sense.”
She shook her head, “For me, at least, it was mostly Russian immigrants who were former dancers themselves, so Fives.”
I thought for a moment, “Well if you ever need history lessons, english, or legal aid I'm around. I dug into my pocket and pulled out a business card, since it’s not like either of us plan to be here long, “Just all the way up in Labrador. Where are you from again?”
“Allens. So, not too far. Thanks.” She replied and looked at the card.
“Welcome.” I replied, finished off my drink then wrote down another idea.
Hadley narrowed her eyes curiously, “What are you writing?”
“Just an idea for a proposition with the ICLU. There are probably other girls in a similar situation as you being lower caste now upper be it through marriage or selection, it may be helpful to talk about implementing a caste readjustment program.”
She lifted her head, smiling just a little, “That sounds like a great idea.” Then a little quieter she added, “I'd appreciate it.”
“Hopefully my boss will agree and pass it onto the innovation department. I'll write a quick memo about it to her later.” I smiled happy to have something to do.
“You really love your job, don't you?” She asked.
I nodded, “It makes me feel like I have some kinda purpose. As cheesy as that is to say.” Making actual change in Illea instead of just prancing around doing whatever else I could have grown up to do.
“No, I get that.” She looked down, “As a kid, I never really felt like I belonged, but on the stage, dancing?” She looked a little distant, “Standing out was a good thing.”
I nodded, “Mhm. Have you thought of ways you could continue working while at the palace?”
She smiled, “Actually, I had a conversation with Prince Eaton about that, and I’ve been able to work out a schedule that allows me to still practice, even though I have to do a little more work to catch up on lessons.”
“That'll be good. If you wanted too you could put on a performance and donate the profits. That way you could be working towards a goal too instead of general practice.”
She tilted her head, “That's an interesting idea. I’ll keep that in mind.”
I nodded, “Well it was nice meeting you, Lady Hadley. But it is probably time for me to get back to work.” Then held out my hand to shake goodbye.
She took it, giving it a shake. “Nice to meet you too.”
It was pretty late in the afternoon by the time I was escorted to the interview room. Damian was in a navy blue suit jacket, dress pants, and a white button up shirt. He smiled at me as I got closer. His eyes flicker to my nametag for a second before he speaks, “Hello, Lady Savannah. It’s a pleasure to meet you in person.”
I smiled trying to stay polite, then gave a small curtsy, “The same to you, your highness.”
He smiled back, taking a few steps back and gestured for me to go into the interview room. In the room is a sofa, surrounded by stage lights and a few cameras, what a romantic first meeting. There is one camera on a swivel stand, that is currently focused on Damian and I. He starts walking into the room, looking at me as he talks, "How have you found your first few days here, so far?"
I debated giving him a short one word answer of 'fine' but Danny's words of 'don't ruin your own happiness" slipped into my head. "They've been fine. I've enjoyed your library. It's helped me feel like I can in some ways continue working by catching up on legal matters normally outside of my areas of expertise."
He nodded while smiling then took a seat on the sofa, "So you're a lawyer, then? What kind of law do you practice?"
Reluctantly I sat next to him, hopefully I wouldn't catch an STD from proximity alone, "Yes, I practice primarily civil and criminal law with the Illean Civil Librities Union. So primarily defending people who are in bad situations due to outdated laws which need amending." My tone came out more passive aggressive than intended, but it was slightly justified as he should have been working to amend said laws and help people instead of partying.
"That's a great thing, to be doing. What got you into law?"
"Well I was at the University of Labrador. My best friend I'm the sorority I was in decided to go to a protest over women's rights in illea. We went, someone man came and antagonized some women, she defended herself verbally, got arrested, felt up by the officer, then was unable to do anything legally about it. I felt that was unfair so I decided to look into being a lawyer, liked the process, graduated in 2 years, went to Yale and here I am."
He lets out a low whistle, looking down for a second. I couldn't help but be a but prideful at my accomplishment, then looks back up at me, more serious than before, his jaw tense, "I'm really sorry that happened to your friend." He said and fell silent. What a conversation killer.
"It's fine." I said trying not to dwell on it, "How was your time in undergrad? Partied a lot, I saw." I said the passive agressiveness coming out again.
He smiled, a little more relaxed than before, but not as relaxed as he was when he first entered the room, "I enjoyed my last few years of freedom before entering the real world, yes." He then raised his eyebrows, grinning a little wider, kind of teasing, "And what about you? Being in a sorority and all, I doubt you were much of a homebody yourself."
I couldn't help but completely flush and bit down my urge to absolutely smack him upside the head. "It was a brief phase. It was fun. But also a waste of time." I chuckled a bit remembering my airheaded behavior in that year, "had I already been working harder I may have been able to finish faster and help more people."
He grinned a little at how flustered I was, which just made me want to punch him more, then smiled a little more genuinely towards the end, "We're still young. We have our whole lives to keep fixing things."
i frowned, "That isn't true. We never know when we're going to die. Something could always happen so we should be trying to help as much as we can. Not to mention while we" I paused after my slip of the tongue, but didn't correct it "partied in undergrad people were suffering who could have been helped."
There's a flicker of a frown on his face when I mentioned how short life is, but he lets it go, tilting his head when he looks at me, "We can't save everyone. That's impossible. We can try to do as much as we can, but there will always be more people in need of help.
"Partying isn't trying."
He raised his eyebrows, "You didn't even know you wanted to be a lawyer, back when you were partying in college."
I got kinda flustered again, he's right, there's no logically sound way to win. Yeah but I should have, I wish I had. Would have made the time a lot less regrettable." I said then cleared my throat, "Though, this is a bit of a heavy topic for our first meeting, don't you agree? Your- Damian." I barely corrected myself from saying Your Highness.
He chuckled, "A bit, but it's different from the surface level talk about work and provinces." He inclined his head, "Though, if you think about it, you never would have discovered your passion for law if you hadn't joined your sorority." He shrugged and gave a stupid grin which made me blush even more.
Finally I snapped and turned to point a finger at him, "You won okay. I can't regret something if I didn't know to do something better, but that doesn't make topless jello shots any less of an embarrassing memory." I exclaimed then heard what I said and wished to curl into a ball and die.
He chuckled a little, "We all have our moments. It's okay."
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door then, and a guard pokes his head in. Damian nods at him, then turns and looks at me, "Unfortunately, we'll have to exchange stories another time. It appears our time today is up."
I sighed in relief at my rescue, then mumbled under my breath, "Thank God." I stood to curtsy, "Your-" I cringed a bit at the error, "Damian."
He chuckled again, "It was a pleasure to meet you Savannah. Until next time." He smiled at me when we got to the door, and stopped in the doorway.
I smiled back politely, "Thank you for the conversation. Till next time."
*savy was taking a break from her work and decided to out for a walk in the gardens. She had always been a fan of taking runs when stressed snd the gardens were providing a peaceful alternative. She was walking around when she thought she saw a bunny in the bushes. Being the gal she is she wanted to see it closer so she stepped off the path and walked into the gravel. Immediately her heel sank in the gravel. She lost her balance for a moment but didnt fall. Instead she panicked. She debated stepping out of her shoes to get it out but she didnt wanna hurt her skin on the gravel. Instead she tried to wiggle it loose and hopped no one was near*
*rip savannah, but Damian is out distressing by playing basketball at that point in time, and from where he's standing as he shoots this basket, he can see someone clearly struggling with something in the gardens. he can't see who it is, or what the problem is, but he figures he should go check it out. he tucks the basketball under one arm, jogging towards the person he can see, calling out* Hey, everything okay?
*savannah hears him call out an knows immediately it's the last person in the world she'd want to find her like this* Absolutely peachy! *calls back and debates ditching the shoes*
*he slows to a stop when he gets closer, his eyes going from savannah's face to her foot* Mmm, looks like you've got yourself in a bit of a sticky situation, there.
*is extremely flustered* no situation at all. I said I'm fine. *aggressively wiggles the heel and almost trips so she squeaks but manages to catch herself*
*when he sees her almost trip, he lunges forwards to catch her before she hits the ground, but then she catches herself, so he's like "oh was that for nothing?" he looks down at the shoe, furrowing his brows, thinking* Here, let me help with that, before you actually fall.
I'm not going to fall and I don't need your help. I'm perfectly capable of defeating some gravel on my own
*he takes a step back* Alright... if you insist... *hes not going anywhere, just watching her, waiting to see what she'll do*
*huffs when she doesnt hear him walk away and continues to wiggle then huffs when shes not getting anywhere* Fine. If you're just going to stand there anyways you may as well help.
*he chuckles, setting the basketball down on the ground, kneeling down to look at the gravel and the heel, before beginning to dig the heel out with his fingers* Not the best shoes to walk off the path in.
*rolls her eyes* I didn't think about that. I thought I saw a bunny and got distracted
*he can't help but raise his eyebrows at that, grinning, twisting the heel a little to unscrew it from the gravel* Was it at least a cute bunny?
*his tone is a little teasing*
It was cute, be careful with your tone though when your face is near my foot. *once its free she steps back on the path so she doesn't sink again*
*he chuckles, joking* What, are you planning on giving me a royal nose job with your shoe?
You could probably use one. *offers a hand to help him stand back up*
*he picks up his basketball, taking her hand, still grinning at her, teasing* Maybe it's just the angle you've been looking at it from.
*stands on her tiptoes looking at his nose* Nope. It's a little off. Nose job it is.
*she pinches his nose* its a big flaw. Doubt you'll be able to get a wife like that
*he chuckles* I don’t know, my nose has never gotten in my way before
*considers* You're right, I'm sure that was just your sense of responsibility that got in the way.
*he raises his eyebrows* You know, I’ve never turned in an assignment late, or anything for work late. Never asked for an extension.
I somehow find that doubtful. Your reputation of being a loose partier precedds that of a responsible duitiful person.
Well, it’s the truth. *he shrugs* If you’re really curious, you could email my professors. It’s all about finding a balance. *he smiles*
*grumbles because he seems to be honest about it* What did you even study?
I dual majored in political science and marketing. You?
*sighs in relief* at least you werent a buisness major. Political Science and History for me on a prelaw track.
*he nods, smiling, genuinely curious* Did you prefer one over the other?
Probably political science. I mean I love history it's why I added it. For fun since it's just like learning stories and seeing the modern day impact of said stories. But political science felt more efficient. Like it helped me have a better understanding of the philosophy of political thinking which has helped me a lot in law. Plus I just liked the professors more.
*he smiles* Understandable. Good professors make it so much easier to learn the content
*smiles* yeah and lots and lots of highlighters. Did you have a favorite topic in political science?
*grinning* I took a really cool course on comparative political economies - I really like the economic side of things. That, and the classes I had to take on international politics. *he looks over at savannah* What about you?
Probably civil politics. I've always been a fan of civil work. I honestly thought about working for the AFEI instead of the ICLU but decided I wanted to do more personal legal work than policy legal work. But it's always been the work that has interested me more since it's important to bring up civil conflicts within the country and try to help as much as possible. But learning about where we came from in terms of The United States vs the civil policies of Illea was an interesting course for me, especially because of the overlap of History and Political Science.
*he nods as she talks, thinking that all over* I think work guided what classes I liked as well. Because beyond national politics, I also have to think about international politics, trade agreements, and maintaining Illéa’s position in the world.
*seems slightly surprised* so you actually liked your major? I assumed you just were kinda forced to pick it
I was kind of forced to, but I could still pick the classes that interested me more. *He shrugs* Plus I really enjoyed my marketing major.
*thinks for a moment* Can I ask you something and have an honest answer? No bullshit PR answer. I'm just trying to figure out if we can trust you to be our future king through this, at the very least.
Sure *he nods, pursing his lips a little* Ask away.
Do you actually want to be the king of this country? Like aside from the perks you have from it, do you care about the work?
I do care. *he pauses, swallowing* I really do. It’s just...it’s a lot of pressure to accept from a young age.
*she thinks for a moment* Noted. Thank you for your honesty. *Looks at the basketball* Do you play much?
*he smiles kind of sadly* Not as much as I used to. I’ve gotten a little busy helping to run the country, and such.
*gets an idea* Do you wanna make a bet with me?
*he grins* Depends on what it is
Basketball. I'm working on a program right now with the ICLU, a coworker wants to come visit me and discuss about it but appreantly work visits aren't allowed during this. If I can get more hoops in you'll arrange that?
*he furrows his brows* Better yet, I could just organize for your coworker to visit under the guise of another event going on. Just give me a few weeks to work out the details.
*kinda chuckles because shes competitive* oh? Youre scared you'll lose? But if that's what you prefer
*he laughs* No, I just know I’d win, and I’d hate to deny you the ability to see your coworker
Fine. You'll set up the meeting, then I'll just prove to you that I would win had their beem stakes.
*he narrows his eyes at her, extending a hand to shake, still grinning* Deal
*shakes it firmly then kicks off her heels planning to walk to the court barefoot.* Would be an unfair advantage for me to still be in them
*he raises his eyebrows* Why, they helped square up the height difference between us, at the very least *he chuckles*
*almost elbows him over that but barely stops herself* I don't need that help. I'm perfectly capable of crushing you independent of my shoes
*he laughs* I played basketball in uni, you know?
As did I. Well- not in a club. A guy who I was *ponders for a moment* acquainted with, played it therefore I played with him and his friends fairly often
*he raises his eyebrows* And how tall was your acquaintance? Because I’m used to playing with people my height, but also my mom and sister, who are - *he puts his hand somewhere around his shoulder because they’re 5’4” and 5’5”* - about this tall
He was around 6'3. His friends the same or more. Don't worry I'm well aware of the disadvantage of my height and very prepared to utilize it
*he chuckles* Oh, I’ve got to see this. *when they get to the court he starts dribbling the ball casually, walking towards the middle of the court* Do you want to start with the ball, or should I?
*thinks for a moment and puts her shoes down on the edge of the court and rolls up the bottoms of her dress pants a bit* You can start with it.
*he raises his eyebrows at her rolling up her dress pants, but he nods* Okay, if you insist. *he waits until he’s ready before starting the play*
*she walks up prepared to steal since she cant block*
*he starts dribbling more seriously, quickly maneuvering around her, taking three large steps with the ball, and then shoots a basket, and it goes in*
*she kinda huffs about that dislikes. But once he has the ball again she tries again, this time getting it and doing her UNDER THE LEGS MOVE AND SHOOTS*
*he turns around, a little in shock* That is not a legal move!
Hmmm *puts her finger to her chin very smug* I dont think it explicitly says in the rules that you're not allowed too. You use your height I'll use mine *VERY SMUG*
*he narrows his eyes* Fine, best 2 out of 3? Whoever gets this next shot wins, then
*SHES BEING COCKY NOW* Aw is the wittle princey calling it quits so soon? His fragile ego damaged? *bats her eyes teasingly*
*he narrows his eyes* Fine, best three out of five, then. *he starts dribbling the ball right from here he is, and it’s a long shot to his basket from there, but he’s pretty confident, so he goes for it, and somehow it actually goes in. he raises his eyebrows at her* Still think you’re gonna win?
*crosses her arms* That was luck. *goes to get the ball since shes closer*
Or just sheer skill. *he smirks a little*
*turns to face him just to roll her eyes and gets the ball. She then dribbles it back to the middle or something idk how basketball works*
*he follows her to the middle, standing in front of her, knees bent in that “ready” position idk wtf it’s called lmao*
*that position makes knees wide so she dribbles and goes to do her fast under the leg move again*
*he sees it coming this time, and takes a few steps back, keeps his arm in front of him to reach for the ball, which he gets, and then dribbles across to the the hoop he has to score in, taking the shot, and watching it go in again. he grabs the ball as it bounces back up, raising his brows at savannah* One more, or are you good? *he grins a little*
*huffs again and crosses her arm* Fine we'll call it at 3 to 1. But in my defense it's been awhile.
*he grins* Well, you’re always welcome to practice out here with me, if you want.
I can't tell if you're being taunting or not *rolls her eyes and walks up to him then holds out her hand to shake for the end of the game*
*he takes her hand and shakes, then gives her a genuine smile* No taunting. I mean it. I’d love to have someone new to play with.
I'll consider it then. I am getting slightly bored of your homes running path for exercise.
*smiles back even tho she doesnt wanna because it was a nice offer*
*he tilts his head from side to side* Yeah, the running trail through the gardens is kind of short. There are better ones /in/ Angeles, if you ever want to check them out
Not sure I'm allowed to just waltz on out of here, but I'd love the names of any you know. My grandmother lives near her so I'm sure I'll be visiting soon enough after this if not immediately so.
*he shrugs* I could also drive you sometime, if you want. I /do/ have a car.
*seems a bit surprised* You know how to drive?
*he furrows his brows* Of course! I got my license as soon as I was legally allowed to.
But its not like you need too? Don't you have like drivers?
*he looks a little confused and taken aback* I’m sure some exist, but why would I want someone else to drive me when I could be free and drive myself?
I'm not sure. I just know rich people, like for example my cousin *mumbles for a moment to find the phrasing* So my grandmother is in charge of the Mars Candy Corporation. My mom's older brother Nathaniel will be taking over it, his kids also my cousins all have drivers. They're like twenty something now but Jackson is always bragging about how he doesn't have to take the effort to drive himself places. I just assumed other people who could afford them would have them, especially busy people who could work instead of drive.
*he blinks* Wow, I never even would have considered that. *he shakes his head* No, I like driving. Being able to roll the windows down and blast the music...it’s like a few moments of freedom. *he shrugs, smiling a little sadly*
*she noticed the smile then something clicks* so freedom is your vice. You act out to feel free, thus the partying. You mentioned earlier the responsibility of being a prince being am influence on the partying. A lack of freedom makes sense. *she knows shes getting too personal but her curiosity and worry for the future gets the best of her* But what does that mean you're going to do when you're king? You'll have even less. How do you plan to maintain that restriction without bursting and needing freedom?
*he stiffens a little at her analysis because damn it’s spot on, but sighs towards the end* Getting as much out of life as I can now. I always knew what my future held for me. So I can plan accordingly. *he forces a small grin, trying to joke* Besides, with any luck, I’ll be old and almost out of energy by the time I’m king.
*furrows her eyebrows concerned* That doesn't work. *sighs* Believe me I'd know. But we aren't wired to run off memories. Instead we develop habits and coping mechanisms. Everyone snaps from time to time, you'll go back to what made you happy last. For you I assume that'll be partying. Which is something you can't do as king, and assuming it wont be till your old isn't right either, regardless of if that was a joke it's not something that you can lean on since millions of people could be relying on you and you'd be unprepared. You are going to be king, You are not going to have freedom, you are going to be under immense pressure and responsibility, honest answer, what are you going to do when you need to snap?
*he narrows his eyes at her, this time more out of irritation than anything else, and he’s a little sarcastic* Gee, thanks for the reminder. Though, for the record, I /haven’t/ partied since uni, and I have no plans to in the near future. So perhaps I’ll rely on my other coping mechanism, such as basketball, or taking a drive.
Yeah well it's the truth and uni wasn't that long ago. It's hard to break habits. I mean I partied like 4 times a month in undergrad and I still use it. That was forever ago but that's not how humans work. You're gonna lean on what you've leaned on. You're going to get shitfaced, you're going to want what you used to have, you're gonna idolize those times in uni and want them back. But you're not going to have it and it's going to be hard and shitty but you have to tough it out because of the country that relies on you and this is proving to me that you're not going to be a reliable King for the people who need you.
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jealous boy - thomas shelby
word count: 2,9K
a/n: hii! i just updated a headcanon yesterday i know but i’m working on this one for a while and wanted to share it with you quickly. i wrote this in my mother language months ago so i thought i can try to translate it. i ended up changing the end but i think this is a good one. i’ll work on the requests for a while from now. let me know what you think, i love y’all.
'Ada, no. There's no way I'm wearing this piece of shit, it's fucking too short.' You looked at the dress on you with a disgusted face. It revealed your body and you weren't going to wear it for a first date. 'Don't talk like you're a priestess or something, will ya? Just wear it and fuck off.' Ada frowned and when her door opened, she became angrier, if that was even possible. 'Have you heard what is knocking in your life??' John didn't answer to her sister, he just smirked and entered into the room while throwing his cigarette. He scowled when he saw you, 'Jesus! Fuck Alfie Solomons, take off that fucking dress.'
You grinned, finally, someone agreed with you. Ada screamed and threw you a black dress, 'What's next, ay? You're gonna join the church choir or something?' You rolled your eyes and went to the bathroom to try the dress. 'She'll look like going to a funeral John.' You heard Ada and opened the door, the dress was simple yet elegant. It looked classy. 'Fuck, the only funeral she's going to will be Alfie fucking Solomons'.' John winked and you reddened a little. 'Eh, not so bad. Come'ere, you need some makeup.' You followed her commands and after ten minutes, you were ready with your cherry red lips.
The reflection on the mirror pleased you, you wore your black high heels and turned to John, 'How do I look?' His smile widened, 'Hot as fuck. He won't be able to keep his dick in his pants.' You blushed, 'Ew, I won't fuck him.' With your words John's face became serious, and that wasn't a normal thing when he was around you, 'y/n, I'm gonna ask you a question and I want you to be honest. What do you really think about Alfie?' He looked at you with expectation. You couldn't help but wonder why was he asking that, you answered anyway.
'Well, he seems like a nice man. But you know what? I don't see him as a date, he is just a friend to me. The only reason I'm keeping my word is that Tommy told me to do him a favour. Why did you ask by the way?' He saw the curiosity in your bright eyes, 'Nothing special, just wondered. Now, go and fuck him.' You laughed, he always knew how to make you smile. Ada hummed about you could be a lot sexier but you didn't mind her and went downstairs. Polly scoped you out but didn't say anything. You felt odd because she was the one who always makes good comments about your outfit.
Arthur's reaction was more different... 'For fuck's sake, does that fucking Solomons have something we don't?' You smiled, 'Definitely not, Arthur.' When you blew him a kiss he smiled and continued to drink his whiskey. Thomas was also there and you were sure that he knew you came. He didn't say anything and he didn't even bother to look at you, what was wrong with him? Usual Tommy, you thought. Pretending like I'm not here, stone-hearted arrogant.
That was impossible that he was acting like that because you were going on a date, he was the one who accepted when Alfie asked him to take you on a date. When the doorbell rang, Arthur answered it. You looked at John immediately, 'Should I remove the lipstick?' He shook his head, 'Nope, I'm pretty sure that there will be no lipstick at the end of the night.' You sighed and turned around.
Alife was talking with Arthur, then he saw you and gaped. 'God, you're so beautiful.' You blushed uncontrollably and hummed a quiet thanks. Ada pushed you a little and you found yourself walking to him. 'Hello to you, too, Alfie.' You froze with Tommy's cold voice, but Alfie didn't give a damn about him. 'Hello, Tommy, my friend!' They shared a quick conversation and Alfie nodded to John.
'Now leave and take your hot chick with you, Solomons.' Arthur joked and you slightly blushed again. Alfie offered you an arm, 'Shall we, love?' You nodded and took his arm. You felt a pair of eyes on your back until leaving the house, they felt like knives and you knew that they could belong to just one person, Thomas Shelby. He didn't even say goodbye to you and now what was that? Alfie's voice interrupted your thoughts. 'We have a quiet one'ere, don't we?'
'No, I was just thinking. Sorry.' He smiled, ''s okay, love.' You continued to walk and arrived at an expensive and lux restaurant, he said that he made a reservation. You sipped red wine while waiting for your orders. 'So, you are here, in Birmingham for just a few months and already earned Shelby family's trust?' You answered simply, 'Yes, it's no big deal.' He continued to talk, 'What about Tommy? How did he accept you easily?' You sighed, was he questioning you? 'I don't know, maybe you should ask himself.'
You felt uncomfortable and he noticed, 'Okay, relax.' He kept trying, 'I'm sure that everybody noticed you with your beautiful face, don't you have someone with you?' You sighed, 'Maybe I'm not that sympathetic, you know?' You sent him a threatening look, hoping that he won't piss you off more. 'I don't agree, you are cute.' You forced a smile and you two continued to talk. He could be a good friend, you thought.
When your meals finished he suggested to go to Garrison, you accepted willingly. He was trying to flirt with you for minutes and you knew that Shelbys will be there to save you. The cheque came and you said that you can pay for your food but he refused and laughed. You stormed off and waited for him outside, liting a cigarette. You were a businesswoman and you hated getting into bad situations like this.
You couldn't help but compare him with Thomas. You remembered the time you went to dinner with Tommy. One of your friends went on a date with Michael and she asked you to look after her. You accepted and you knew that it would be suspicious if you go alone so you asked Thomas to go with you. He accepted and you brought work that evening. However, you two opened as time passed by and you never wanted it to end. That evening you spent time with a whole different Thomas, the one he chooses to hide and you loved that man. You knew that you could do anything to talk again with that chatty, kind Tommy again.
He let you pay for your meal and you saw the respect in his mesmerizing eyes that night. He was impressed by a powerful woman who was able to handle herself, he admired you. Alfie came to you and you pushed your thoughts, started to walk with him. He made some jokes and you laughed, talked a little. When you finally arrived at Garrison, you walked to the table where the family members were. You sat next to John, started to chat with him. Alfie was watching you.
'Let me look at ya,' John whispered and you turned your face to him. He looked at your lips and frowned, 'Lipstick is still'ere, what a pity.' You rolled your eyes playfully, 'Of course, it is. I don't look him that way, John. By the way, where's Tommy?' His smile disappeared and you felt nervous. 'Oh, don't ask me, please. He is there, snogging with that sticky barmaid.' You couldn't believe what you heard and looked at the direction he showed to you.
Thomas was there, the barmaid was trying to kiss him hard but he was still the dominant one. You noticed that he was definitely drunk, that wasn't a thing that happened often. Polly once said that he rarely gets drunk and when he did, it was because he couldn't control his thoughts. What he couldn't control? you thought. Then you saw that the barmaid was playing with his hair and this sent a shiver down your spine. You knew how much he hated when someone touched his hair, but he was there and saying nothing.
You couldn't help but feel awful, you knew that you were never more than a friend to him but you felt awful anyway. 'Disgusting.' You murmured and John nodded, 'Go get us some whiskey.' You stood up and went to Harry to ask for a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. He handed you the things and you came back to the table. John immediately poured two glasses and you drank it quickly. You had no idea about Thomas was watching you.
John hugged you with one arm, it meant nothing more than a friendly hug but Alfie frowned. 'Jesus, what a whore.' You looked at the other table with John's voice and saw that the barmaid was now sitting on Tommy's lap. He leaned back his head and her lips were going down on his neck. You felt sick and averted your gaze, didn't want to see the scene. 'I can't watch it anymore.' Arthur nodded and continued to smoke.
You noticed that Polly was looking at you, so you turned to her. She shook her head and didn't say anything. 'Stop watching, John. People said that he wasn't with any girls for years and now look at him, letting a sneaky barmaid touch him. Why do you think he is acting like that?' You asked and his eyes looked directly at you. 'Are you really asking that? Oh, y/n... I don't think that you'll be happy when I tell you the truth.' You didn't understand him, what was he talking about?
You smiled, 'Spill the tea, Johnny boy. Nothing can surprise me more now.' Oh, you were wrong. 'We all thought you knew this but it seems like you have no idea. Just wondering, are you blind?' You gestured him to continue and he sighed, 'Tommy loves you.' You couldn't breathe and gasped for air, 'Excuse me, what? Stop kidding.' You coughed again and a small smile played on his lips. 'That's the truth. He was mad when he came home and told us Alfie will take you on a date. Then he forced himself to hate you and didn't even look at your face today.'
'But when you left with Alfie... We struggled at stopping him, he was too angry for his own good. He is with that evil since we came here. There's no doubt that he is dead drunk now. He tries to forget you or make you jealous, maybe both. We... didn't know what to do, y/n. He's too stubborn to tell you the truth.' You closed your eyes, you had no idea about what you were going to do. The man you liked for months had feelings for you but... Could you trust him after what he had done? Was it his fault? Definitely not, you knew this at least. You should have refused Alfie's offer at first, and tell him that you'd prefer a date with him. You sighed, opened your eyes and took a long sip from your drink.
'Bored, are we?' Alfie smiled across the table and you didn't smile back. 'We can leave, y'know? I know a good place nearby and would like to take you there, ay.' You glared at him, 'Did I get that right, Alfie? You think I'm gonna sleep with you?' He laughed, ''course it is. What did ya think, doll?' His careless words made you angrier, 'You think I'm a whore?' He threw a look to you, 'You tell me. Tommy said that I'm free to do everything with you. Isn't it make you one?'
'Fuck off.' You raised your voice, 'I'm not a whore. You're looking at the wrong place, I'm sure that you can find one in Thomas Shelby's lap!' Everyone was watching you, including Tommy and Grace. Questioning eyes turned to them and Thomas told her to leave, gaining a slap from Grace. She left the pub and Alfie followed behind her. John grinned, 'Can't believe you did this.' You responded sarcastically, 'Did I do something wrong?' Ada smiled warmly, 'I'm glad that blonde bitch left 'ere.'
Thomas came to your table and you ignored his eyes. The family got up and you left with them. You all walked quietly, the cold wind blew to your small frame. John took off his thick coat and placed it to your bare shoulders. You murmured a simple thanks to him. 'I'll go to my place, good night.' Ada stopped you, 'There's no way I'm leaving you alone this night, sweetheart. If you don't come with us, I'll make you come anyway.' You didn't try to refuse again, you knew she was as stubborn as his brother.
Arthur took a sip from the whiskey bottle he carried, 'What were you doing with that girl, Tommy? Are you insane?' He laughed. 'I wanted to have fun.' You turned your eyes to the ground and avoided his gaze, knowing that he was mad at you. Polly took another drag from her cigarette, she made an unhappy sound. 'You don't look like you're having fun, do ya?' John asked, knowing exactly his brother was everything but happy. 'Actually, I could enjoy my night if someone didn't make her angry.' You felt a shiver down your spine and your stomach ached but you didn't even look at him.
Then you finally arrived at the home and you immediately climbed upstairs to go to the room Polly gave to you since you started visiting the house. You took off your high heels and tried to open your zipper. However, you couldn't do it and sighed. Your door opened and you thought it was Ada, 'Can you help me, please?' You said and the person closed the distance, a hand pushed your hair to your neck and revealed your back. Then the fingers touched your warm skin and they found their way to the zipper. You noticed that it wasn't Ada, the hands opened the zipper slowly and the long fingers traced your skin. 'Don't you fucking dare to touch me again.' You hissed, turning back to face with him.
He was in front of you now, Tommy. His drunk eyes and sad face hurt you in a way you couldn't explain. He took a step closer to you and you stepped back, 'Please, don't touch me. I don't want to see you.' The dress loosening around your curves and showing your skin, his eyes lingered on your body for a second. 'y/n, what's the problem?' He asked slowly, his face softened. His pure voice making you swallow, you answered. 'You tell me, Tommy. Do you think I won't notice? You're not talking to me since Alfie asked me out, you didn't even look at my face. What's it?' He opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, then closed. You gestured him to speak.
'You think I don't look at you? Jesus, are you joking? Your face is the only one I want to see all day, every day. But, I'm not going to confess my feelings now. I'm not spilling my secrets to you, I won't give you the chance to learn my pathetic intentions. The big Tommy Shelby, ay! Falling for a girl he knows for months and desperate for her love. It hurts, y/n. It really hurts. You don't even like me.' You listened to him open-mouthed, trying to choose what to say for a response.
'You're stupid, Tommy. You believe that I don't even like you? Do you have an idea about why did I go out with that fucker? Because you fucking wanted me to do, because I care about what you want! I care about you. I tried to tolerate him for hours just for you and what happened? I found you with a girl on your lap!' Now, it was his turn to be shocked, was he imagining things or were you really standing there? He shut his eyes and opened, just to see you again. 'I... I'm sorry.'
'I wish you had talked to me first, y'know. I'd prefer learning what you feel from you, not from your brother. If I need to be optimistic, at least we spoke. Now go to your room and rest, you'll have a hell hangover. We're gonna discuss these later, alright?' You looked at his beautiful face, he seemed like a Greek god to you with his sharp cheekbones. 'Promise?' He asked like he wanted to be sure. 'Promise, Tommy.' You gave him a sincere smile. 'Okay, I'm leaving but first..' He paused, not sure about what he was going to say. You felt nervous.
'Where's my goodnight kiss, ay?' You couldn't help but chuckle, you weren't waiting for this. 'C'mere.' You said and he closed the distance again, smiling lightly. He closed his piercing eyes, you enjoyed the view of his long eyelashes. You had to stand up to reach his height, you left a small kiss to his right cheek. His smooth skin warm under your lips, you cherished every second. Then you took a step back and looked at him for the last time that night, 'Goodnight, Tommy.'
He walked to the door and talked quietly before leaving your room, 'Goodnight, love.'
#peaky blinders#peaky blinder fanfic#peaky blinder imagine#tommy shelby#alfie solomons#thomas shelby imagine#thomas shelby#john shelby imagine#john shelby#peaky blinder headcanon
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I wanted to take some time to reflect on my thoughts and write about them.
Sorry for not appreciating you more. You deserve so much more than I gave you. Sorry I became someone you couldn’t love anymore. I spent too much time focused on the things that I thought mattered but instead I was drifting further away from you. I was self-centered and arrogant, and I used you as a crutch to carry me and validate myself. One of my biggest regrets is using you to justify my 2018 Fall semester. You're right. It wasn't your fault. I ruined that semester for myself. I'm sorry for doing that to you. I spent so much time feeling bad about myself and never did anything about it. I spent so much time doing that, I didn’t have enough time to pay attention to you and your needs. I was selfish. I just kept lying to myself, telling myself that I needed time to relax instead of going over to your place. I let you come over to spend time with me while I did who knows what instead of cherishing what little time we had in our busy schedules. I'm sorry that it always takes you getting fed up with me for me to start changing. I'm sorry that I'm all talk and no action. I want to reevaluate my own life equipped with the understanding that I have gained. I want to start being true to you and myself again.
I want to work on myself and us in the Fall. Sometimes I say things are impossible, because I don’t believe in “nonsense”. When I saw that our schedules didn’t line up, I made plans. But, I was so stupid so I just skated by on the easy answer and said, “I guess we won’t see each other” when deep down, I knew that I could damn well get off my ass and go over to your place and cook you dinner, have some wine, and play a board game. I'm sorry about that.
I know that my lifestyle has been a large issue for you. My energy level has defnitely decreased since we first met, and I have gained a lot of weight since then. I feel tired a lot more often and lead a sedentary lifestyle because of it. I don't want to make excuses to you saying that I have been lacking as a boyfriend because I gained weight and feel bad about myself. I'm making it a goal to get back in shape this summer. Not just for you, but also for me. I miss when I had an abundance of energy and my body felt like it was healthy. I'm pretty sure you know, post workout high is real. I felt like I had so much more energy in the Fall that we met. I also know that I'm kind of a slob. It's a really bad habit of mine, and I'm trying to change it. I hope you'll stick around to see me throw away my trash in the fall. I also want to work on my mental health. I haven't been in a really good mind state and instead of facing my issues, I've packed them away and let them sit there. I want to take control of my life again and deal with the problems that I've been having. I'm sorry that all of this has had this effect on our relationship and you.
I think that there was something lost in translation in my head when I thought that I wanted to date someone completely different from me. I initially wanted to experience new things and get into new interests. But instead, as time went on, I ended up interpreting that as I can have my interests and she can have hers and that’s ok. I somehow twisted that thought into the idea that I don't need to show interest in what you show interest in. Having that talk to you was very eye-opening when you said all of the things that I like and I was, but I couldn't say anything about you. That is one of the emptiest moments of my life. And I'm deeply and extremely sorry about that. I want to take time to learn about you and your goals an passions. It's not you job and not fair for you to just be my cheerleader. Every time you would plan someone or want to go do something, I would’ve just rather stayed in my room. I was comfortable there. I became too complacent in my life and our relationship to see that I was tearing us apart. I can’t change the fact that I never went stargazing with you after that night in the beach. I can’t change the fact that I couldn’t get the idea that you loved that moment through my head. But trust me when I say that I want that. I realize now that there are experiences that I will never get to have if I don’t do them now, while I’m still young and here. I want to share these moments with you. I want to dance around on the beach at 3 in the morning and stargaze. I want to point at the whale that showed you the goods at the aquarium. I want to take a walk in the park. I want to stomp in puddles. I want to hype you up when you walk out into the room with that new outfit on, or when you cut your bangs, or when you're doing drunken history with your friends. I want to travel to new places and see new things. I want to go see a show at the Fox. I want to lean how to stop chasing the money and start chasing my dreams. I want to sing to you, your music or mine, but mainly Ed Sheeran. I want to slow dance in your room, because that shit is cute, and I love you. I want to cook for your again, good food or bad (I know you would prefer good, but sometimes it just happens). I want to talk more. Not about our days or what we want in the future. I want to talk about things on your mind, the whimsical ideas. I really miss just talking about nonsense. I want to surprise you with flowers. I want to show you new foods, hopefully ones that you'll want to eat! I want to take out out to so many more anniversaries. I want to send that good morning/ good night text. I want to ride that huge ferris wheel that we see every single time we try to leave campus. I want to get drunk and go watch comedy. I want to go on weekend trips with you, just us two. I WANT TO TAKE YOU ON DATES AGAIN. Not just dates at Chick-fil-A. This list could go on and on so I think you get the idea. If you want to hear more let me know! I want to stop buying your love, and be your love. I understand that just paying for things isn't good enough. I want to stop protecting you and start loving you for who you are. I want to stop taking myself and my life to seriously. I want to work through my own problems, so I can be better for you. I want to take more interest in your goals and aspirations instead of being so wrapped up in mine that I don't pay attention to you at all. I want to hear your plan to create your own company. I want to see that drawing of a snail that you drew an hour ago, no matter how bad you think it is. I want to become friends with your friends. I want to learn how to care for you again. I want to be there for you, no matter how hectic my life gets. I want to stop taking myself so seriously and love you unapologetically. You make me a better person. If I am able to get one last chance from you, I will turn all of the "want to"s into "will"s. You have my word, however much that means to you now. But know that I am adamant to get my life together and be the best I can be.
I’ve had a girlfriend for the last six or seven months, and I understand now that I want a relationship instead of just “having a girlfriend”. I'm sorry again that it took me this long to realize this when we've been arguing about it for the past couple of month. I'm sorry that I have been reluctant to change. I know this puts you in a hard place, and I'm also sorry about that. I want a relationship where we both contribute to create a rich and meaningful bond between us. I want to communicate effectively. I know that you need your space right now, and I understand that. Please do whatever you need to do to be happy. I want that for you. I want you to reunite with your friends, and discover new things about yourself. But, I want to be a part of your life again if all possible. I want to show you who I really am. Who I am out of my shell. Who you fell in love with in the beginning. It's not your job to coerce me out of it, I just needed a wake up call. I don't want to lose you because of my own inadequacies. I know you said that a relationship shouldn't be this hard. Please let me show you that ours isn't. It has been my fault this whole time. I understand and can admit that now. I want to show you what this relationship could be. Like they say, hindsight is 20/20, if I knew that my actions would cause this, I would've faced myself and forced myself to change for the better a lot earlier. I was lost. Very lost. I now see how much this has affected you and I want to make it up to you. Please call me if you need anything, I just want to chat, as friends no strings attached. You can even set up ground rules. Once again, I'm sorry that it had to come to this for me to realize that without you, nothing else really matters that much. Please don’t cut me out of your life. I can and am going to do better. I know that this is all talk right now, but I'm thinking of this post as a road map to what I need to do to be the best me I can be. I hope I can ask you on a date again come fall and show you how far I've come. Until then, please don’t forget about me. You are the most important thing to me, and I'm sorry that it took me so long to understand and appreciate that. I want to be with you, I want to stand by you, and I want to love you. I want to kiss you and hold you. I will be better. I love you. I love you so much, honey-bun.
P.S. Please call me if you see this, I miss chatting with you.
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