#in a way reminds me of this girl- although cis I knew

[primavras]

" 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒎 𝒊 𝒔𝒖𝒑𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒅𝒐 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒎𝒚 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒃𝒆 𝒈𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒏. "

(elle fanning, twenty-seven, cis woman, she/her) you do not know me but rest assured i know you, MISS LYDIA ELSWORTH. you are the GOVERNESS TO THE HOUSE OF CLAREMONT. you maybe be known for your SINCERITY but it is only a mask for the true nature of your CARELESS ways. however, i am not here to spread slander on the queen’s jewels, though i suspect you are her SUNSTONE. the ton says your name reminds them of CARRYING YOUR HEART ON YOUR SLEEVE, ALWAYS LEAVING SOMETHING UNFINISHED - YOU CAN'T BEAR FOR IT TO END, THE FLUTTER OF A BUTTERFLY'S WING, FALLING JUST BEFORE THE FINISH LINE. how scandalous! you have been warned, dear reader, that i will prove if this is true and share every last detail.

GENERAL

name : lydia elisa elsworth birthday: 8th march family: alexander elsworth ( father ), jane elsworth ( mother, deceased), sibling sexuality: bisexual, biromantic

traits: compassionate, caring, altruistic, charming, mealy-mouthed, careless, proud, brazen, hotheaded character inspiration : katara ( atla ), sybil crawley ( downton abbey ), gilbert blythe ( anne with an e ), lucy gray baird ( the ballad of songbirds and snakes )

BACKGROUND

☾ when you’re born, you know nothing but love. you’ve inherited your father’s smile and the softness of your mother’s love. you’ve always considered it a blessing but as you discover the cruelty of the world, you ask yourself, perhaps you’ve been better off if you never knew kindness. ☾

lydia grew up with love. although her parents’ marriage was one out of convenience, they were the exception to rule and truly adored each other. they always wanted the best for their children and although they might have been strict at times, lydia knew that they only were when they needed to be. her father was a doctor and a man who viewed both of his children as equal. whenever he’d have time, he’d share his knowledge. lydia would often accompany him and if not plucking flowers and herbs from their garden. studying them and making remedies out of them.   then her mother fell ill. with every passing day, becoming the shell of the woman she used to be. so full of life, and yet escaping with every breath she’d take. it was when lydia became obsessed with the thought of being able to find a cure. collecting all kinds of herbs and attempting to soothe her mother’s pain. in the end it wasn’t enough. she failed. of course. she was young, hopeful and naive.  her father was broken at every heartbeat,  resembling her mother in her last days. it wasn’t easy and more often than not she’d wish she could just be that little girl again asking her mother for help.  she wished she could’ve been stronger. but instead she sought some kind of stability in helping out those in need and those who were broken from the war. this wasn’t a place for someone like her but even when her shift would’ve ended, she’d stay secretly. giving them her homemade remedies and making sure they wouldn’t share the same loneliness when her mother died. this is when lydia dared to fall in love. something she told herself she wouldn’t, after witnessing her father become so empty by such a fragile thing. a mistake. they met when she was volunteering again. he was wounded and scared by war and lydia would treat him. it was all so simple despite the chaos and somewhere along the way she found herself falling for that person. 

( secret reveal )

but it seemed as if love was supposed to slip through her fingers, everytime she could grasp it. the illusion of choice leading her to be hopeful. it was just another night. a particularly bad one where he couldn’t fall asleep due to the pain. the weight of the past pressed on her. memories pushing through the darkness, as she was trying to find anything that could help him. mistaking a healing herb for one poisonous enough to kill someone weak, she gave it to him and before the night could even change he’d be dead. in the eyes of society he wasn’t important enough that his death would matter anyway. and being as weak as he was, most would’ve assumed he died because of the war and not her. when she looked in the mirror, lydia would her eyes reflecting the same look her father had. but she’d be stronger, close her heart and move on. perhaps it was better anyway. people like her weren’t supposed to be more anyway. this way she could ignore all those memories, only allowing them to haunt her in her nightmares. when she was accepted as a governess in the claremont house, she knew her heart would never be fully into it. a life so different from what she’d envisioned. but the payment was good. better than most of the other households and she needed it. for her family. the only ones who were supposed to matter anyway. 

WANTED CONNECTIONS ( these are just ideas , can be combined, tweaked and are not fixed or anything ! )

pen pal: someone she'd never met in person but who she dared to share her thoughts with and what she was going through.

someone she's providing medical treatment in secret: this person somehow knows that lydia has enough medical knowledge that she might help them. of course, she isn't a real physician but it's enough that it gets them by. lydia would've probably been reluctant at first, as she doesn't wish to get back into it and accept her life as a governess.

someone who is giving her books containing medical knowledge as well as knowledge about all kinds of plants, herbs etc. they could do it solely because they're kind but maybe lydia gives them something in return.

a slow-burn love, will they won't they vibes : this is someone lydia knows she could fall in love with but doesn't dare to. she'll probably tell them, she doesn't feel the same ( and perhaps it's true first ) to avoid being hurt. but there's always some tension lingering ( bonus point: they might've looked similar to lydia's past love for angsty reasons ) // or/and something based on this because i don't know happiness

best friend: lydia is very sociable and does have many "friends". but there are not many people she considers to be close. they're however, her closest friend, and while they love gossiping , they also enjoy shared silence.

someone who knew the person who died because of lydia and are also lowkey suspecting her

more tba

[ritual-misery]

18-10-2023 🎧

yesterday was very up and down 💀 and i knew it was gonna a mess the second i forgot my earphones at home. those shits r my lifeline. riding the bus in silence was torturous

anyways. yesterday something happened that hasn't happened in a while... i got gendered as female. usually, where i am now in my transition, i'd say i get gendered as male 99% of the time. ages vary; usually people think i'm some 13 year old LMFAO but chemically i am 13 so i mean... there u go. but nonetheless they read me as a guy

but yesterday was different. it was after my last class of the day and these girls started talking to me about the material and whatnot. then we went to some public event thing happening outside and as we're sitting there i get called "she" when one of the girls says something abt me to the other one. i thought, maybe i misheard. but then they started talking about the traits they hate in guys... then i was called a baddie... sooooo 😭

honestly i feel nothing about it. maybe a bit awkward cause eventually its gonna come up that im actually a guy. and its gonna be weird. but it kinda made me think. like yeah, i get gendered as male a lot, but honestly im still pretty androgynous. i have no facial hair yet, my face is still kinda round, i wear earrings (non-feminine ones), and i'm short. so someone could easily read me for a girl as much as they read me for a guy. i notice that when i do get misgendered, it's usually by girls. other guys always gender me right. the rare times i'm read as female it's usually by a girl. curious as to why

but nonetheless it happened. and it reminded me that i have a long way to go in my journey. and that i shouldn't get too proud and think that i'm mr. unclockable all of a sudden. i have some time to wait before my face changes dramatically or i grow facial hair (although im trying to get my hands on some minoxidil), but there are more areas where i can masculinize as i wait. like working out and doing different things with my hair. i'm gonna try and style it different because i feel like it makes me look so feminine and it bothers me lmao. it's this overgrown mullet thing, and the process of growing out the sides is making me want to go bald. in my deluded brain i feel that if i finally grow out my hair long it'll actually help me look more male? cause it'll cover my face and make me look a little older (i feel that lots of young boys have short hair while longer hair would indicate maybe an older guy? idk 💀)

it's easy to get discouraged, i think. i found my mind saying, "a cis guy would never have to deal with something like this." but then it occurred to me that i'm not a cis guy. i'm gonna have different experiences in life than one, and i shouldn't use the average cis guy's life as a marker for mine. it'll just leave me unsatisfied and feeling like a failure when i've failed nothing. i gotta focus on myself and what im doing. i'm not cis so my life is not gonna be similar to that of cis people's. and that's not a shitty thing

oh and here's my second problem. i ran out of testosterone. i'm with this specialized doctor right now and he's very hard to reach out too. long story short, the next time i see him is in november... i ran out of T last week. today's my shot day, actually. so i'm concerned. i know that nothing monumental will happen to me over 3 or so weeks, but the only thing i really don't want to happen is my period returning. which it surely will. so now i have to do a final hail mary: at the very beginning of this, i got a prescribed vial that i wasn't able to receive because of a problem with insurance. there's a chance that the vial is still sitting in the pharmacy now. will i probably have to pay? yeah. but i mean.. what choice do i have. i would rather pay and take the T than wait three weeks and have my body go through crazy mood swings and my monthly returning from the shadowy depths. so i'm about to call the pharmacy and see what they say. at least i can try. it's been one year, so the doctor is going to give my prescription to my family doctor to have him deal with it (special doctor only handles patients for one year), but my fam doctor will probably ask me to give it to someone else. so i should start researching some endos in the area

alas. weird life, weird events. today i got no classes and i'm gonna try and get stuff done. there's minimal things i need to do for school, so non-academic tasks are getting prioritized. ESPECIALLY my workout. it's been way too long, and i'm trying to get all buff now so when summer hits i'm chilling. plus it's winter coming soon so what else am i supposed to do lmao. also gonna try and buy some stickers to decorate my laptop today. very whimsical and fun ofc

[that-damn-girl]

(8) Bucky and The Bed

Completed

Chapter 7

Bucky and The Bed Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (cis)fem!reader

Words: 3100+

Summary: You and Bucky are stranded in the middle of a snowy nowhere when there is an ‘electronic blackout’ during your mission. With no back ups or any way to contact your team, you take refuge from the worsening weather in the only cabin you find  in miles. Not to mention, with no power, Bucky has become your personal heater and there’s only one bed.

Chapter type: Fluff.

Chapter/Trigger warning: Language? Like teensy weensy bit of angst?

A/N: Thank you for continuing to read this series still. After the end, which I will start on a Bucky x Rogers!reader miniseries. I am particularly excited to write the next two chapters. Hope you like this part!

Bucky looked at it. Kept looking at it. And looked at it some more.

The metal armed man was sure he couldn't ever get tired of the sight in front of him. It was simple and yet so complex he felt he could get lost into it and never regret a second. It might not be much, but it was enough for him to lose himself. He didn't know how to describe the sense of serenity it brought him. 

Peeking through the light fluffy clouds, the setting sun cast warm golden rays that gave every snowy surface around you a honey like glaze. As the time gradually passed, various colours in the most brilliant of their shades blended beautifully to embellish the never-ending sky. As the slanting rays of the sun flitted through the clouds, the yellow filter in the sky gave way to a graceful braid of pink and orange before shrouding everything is it's vermilion hue.

In the handful of days you had taken refuge in the cabin, not one day had the sun been kind enough to grace you with its presence. When today it finally did, you and Bucky realised it was too good an opportunity to miss the sunset view these mountains offered. Without any further ado, a bonfire was created outside the cabin with dry leaves and firewood arranged meticulously. 

The splendid view of nature in its finest forms was exploited to its full content. You and Bucky sat around the bonfire, taking in the furiously blushing sky and the snow covered peaks shining golden in the distance as the clouds traversed through them.

Bucky was taken aback by the raw beauty in front of his eyes. It reminded him of the sunsets in Wakanda. Sure it wasn't comparable to those in the futuristic and fascinating country, but it was a close second. He only grew more in awe of the view the more he looked at it. Majestic was one word for the sight in front of him. It wasn't the sky though. 

It was you. 

A small, unconscious smile took a hold of his lips as he took in your face, peacefully resting on his shoulder. Your arms were tightly curled around his vibranium one, your body leaning its weight on him. A shared blanket was thrown over your backs, trapping in the heat the fire provided.

For Bucky, it was majestic, really. How could it not have been, looking at your face, at the blend of the colours from the setting sun and the fire casting a beautiful glow to your already beautiful self? Your serene features were highlighted by the natural light and the dancing flames. You looked elegant and exquisite, more so than anyone he had ever known. As bewildering as it sounded, Bucky had met a god but the warm colours grazing your skin truly made you more divine than any other celestial being. 

Bucky was utterly whipped.

Sensing his gaze on you, you tilted your head to look at him. Bucky had always had an intense face, even when he was relaxed or didn't mean to do it. You had encountered it many a times and dealt with the increase in your heart rate it brought, but you could never get used to his soft smile and gentle eyes looking at you with such adoration, such love, such trust, as if you had hung the stars and the moon for him. It overwhelmed you, always, but in the best of the ways. Especially since you had discovered a couple days ago that it wasn't just in your head. 

Unable to stifle your own giddy smile, you reached up to kiss his lips. It was only meant to be a peck, but he drew you in even before you had the chance to pull back, always eager to taste you, to have you, to kiss you, to cherish you. You galdly gave into the kiss. It was soft and sweet, the way his lips molded around yours, moving in sync. The kiss slowly grew intense, but not heated. It was only filled with love and care, making him unable to put in the conscious effort of letting you go if you were okay with it. 

Instead his strong arms wound around you and brought you to him lap so that you were straddling his thick thighs. His lips moved slow but firm, just taking the time to worship your lips as they deserved to be. One hand tightened around your middle, keeping you secure in his hold while the other drifted down to your butt, his large hands kneading your cheeks gently with utmost care and fondness. You slid your arms up his broad chest and around his neck, holding him close. Smiling in between the kisses, neither of you were able to let go, clinging to each other as none could get enough of the other.

When you finally did let go to breathe in lung fulls of the crisp, cold air, you moved to relieve him of your weight. His arms tightened around you in a slight moment of panic, refusing to dismiss the comfort you brought him just by your touch, your closeness. "Stay, please?" He softly pleaded.

You looked down at the heavy log of wood Bucky sat upon. It was broad enough to sit, but not enough to be comfortable if he kept your weight on himself for long. "Your legs are going to hurt, Bucky"

"Y/N, I don't know the true limit of the powers the serum gave me, but I think it's enough to stop a helicopter from taking off. I think I can hold my precious girl without hurting myself." He smiled at you with the boyish charm and the innocence of a first grader announcing that he got A+ in an assignment.

"Show off," You chuckled, booping his nose with yours. "But an adorable show off."

"What?" Bucky quietly, softly muttered, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. "I like holding you, hugging you, having you close. That's all." Your heart fluttered in your chest, swelling with emotions. The simplicity, the vulnerability with which he admitted favouring your presence made you wonder just how much open and comfortable he was with you. You knew he liked you, trusted you, but it never ceased you from being overwhelmed everytime he expressed it.

Heart brimming with affection for the man in front of you, you didn't trust yourself not to confess then and there how deeply in love you were with him. Instead you said the only thing you could think of to draw the attention away from your racing heart. "You also like my butt."

The metal hand tenderly kneading your butt cheek stilled. Hesitance crept in every being of Bucky. He cursed himself, worried he had offended you or made you uncomfortable somehow. What he heard was unassuming, but he didn't want to take any chances if you didn't like it. 

Bucky realised that since the day you had agreed to be his girl, he had given an awful amount of attention to your butt. He'd always rest his hands there while cuddling or gently knead the soft muscles as he was doing then. He would never deny that your behind was alluring to him, but his touch wasn't meant to be demeaning or enticing, at least not until you partook in sexy times. He'd only ever meant for his actions to treasure you, admire you, but he would not do it at the cost of your comfort. 

You caught onto what must have been going inside his head. Bucky meant to draw his hand back and apologise, but you stopped him and quickly added, "I love the attention, honestly."

"You're not... offended by it?" Pulling back to look at you, he asked unsurely, making himself look as small as possible.

"Should I be?"

Bucky shook his head, "I like you and I respect you, a lot. You know that, right? I only do it, because...well, what's there not to like about your butt?" He emphasised it by giving a small squeeze to your soft muscles.

"I believe you," You chuckled, giving his plump lips a sweet peck."And I meant it, I love the attention you give it. But why do you like it so much? My ass is so-"

"It's perfect." Bucky finished your sentence before you could add in any negative comment about yourself. "You're perfect, doll."

"You're such a charmer." You mumbled, going for his lips with a wide smile.

"Only for you." Bucky replied, happy to taste you, feel you. When he pulled back, he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

With the fiery flames warming your back and Bucky's heated body pressed to your front, you snuggled into him further. Head resting on his broad shoulder, eyes closed, you basked in the comforting embrace, in the heat seeping into your bones. It was your own little heaven.

Feeling the sun on his skin after so many days had felt great. Although he was used to staying in the dark before he was rescued, he didn't like it one but. It felt good, immensely so. But with you at his side, with him, enveloped in his arms, your touch calming him, anchoring him, everything was better than never before. 

It didn't take long for Bucky to realise that you had dozed off on his shoulder, your chest tranquilly rising and falling against him. Chuckling, he gripped both the ends of the blanket and curled his arms around you again, the pair of you now cocooned in the heat of the blanket. 

He rested his chin on your shoulder, his head leaning against your, and looked at the dwindling flames in the darkening sky. Nightfall loomed at the corners, impatiently waiting for the sun to complete its descent before it could take over. The lowering temperature was palpable in the chilling air. He knew he would need to carry you inside soon, but he waited for the soothing heat of the fire to die down before he would be forced to retreat inside. 

Looking at the sky in the far distance, Bucky took in the myriad of changing colours with time. He couldn't help but think about Steve. What Steve would have done if he would have been there. There was no doubt in Bucky's mind that Steve would have ran inside to look for a pencil and paper with the speed of a cheetah. 

He would have taken down the various shades on the trees and the mountains and the clouds floating above their heads with the monochromatic beauty of grey and created a masterpiece. Bucky smiled, thinking about the concentrated look Steve would have had in his face, brows furrowed as his eyes would have shifted like at a ping pong game between the sky and the paper. He remembered his days in the military camps with his pal, when the newly bulky man still testing his strength would sketch in any free time he got to deal with the stress he felt.

Bucky...missed his childhood friend very much. He didn't realise when his eyes had moistened when his vision grew blurry.

Not that Sam and you weren't few of the greatest friends he had had, but Steve was... something else. Steve Grant Rogers was his brother, truly so. 

Everytime Bucky thought about his pal, his Steve, limitless emotions flew through him, all different for different reasons. One of the most lasting ones though was that gratification. Bucky firmly believed he owed his life to Steve for saving him from the torture he had suffered from the hands of HYDRA. Not once, but twice, in Austria and in D.C., when that fool had nearly died instead of fighting him. Steve had also saved him from the governments of the entire freaking world, trusted in him when nobody else did. Steve had fought with his friends of the twenty first century, his only family, for him. The Golden Boy of America preferred his name being dragged through the mud and being counted in the ranks of the criminals he put behind the bars over losing Bucky. Though he knew it wasn't just for him, Steve had helped resurrect him and all the others when Thanos had snapped them dead. He didn't know how he could ever repay Steve for all that he had done, for all the sacrifices he had made for Bucky. 

Out of all those plethora of emotions, one of the few which weighted heavily on him was that of regret. For a man who had lived for over a hundred years, Bucky didn't have the chance to do as many things as he would have liked. Maybe it was because he hadn't lived as much as he had survived, but he didn't let that be the base of his excuses. He had meant to do many things right. 

Bucky never thanked his Ma for the man she had raised him to be. He was never there for his sisters when he had promised them he would be. He never properly thanked Steve for saving him time and again. He never thanked Howard for helping Steve save him when he was captured in Austria or for keeping Steve company when he couldn't. He never got to thank Tony for reversing the snap or apologise to him for all that he had done to his parents, Bucky's own friends, while in evil's control.

Bucky had always thought that he would have time; time which he lost partially because he had taken everything for granted, partially because fate had been cruel to him with a vengeance. Life of an Avenger was... unpredictable at the very best. They could be overly cautious, but never fully prepared. Many a times they had to deal with hostage situations or - Bucky still couldn't get used to believing it - alien invasions without a moment's notice. 

Bucky had learnt never to take things for granted the hard way. Now that he thought about it, lady luck had never been on his side for long. Everything even remotely good had been taken from him when he thought he had time to enjoy them and bask in their glory. 

He didn't want it anymore. Bucky didn't want the guilt weighing him down, knowing he could have done something or said something but didn't, because he thought fate would be kind enough to give him some time. 

He didn't want to take chances anymore.  

Glancing down, Bucky saw you napping peacefully on his shoulders, really making him a human pillow. Hot puffs of air fell on his neck through your open lips. His heart fluttered in his chest, mentally cooing at how adorable you looked.

He couldn't help but think back to the time he had first met you as himself. His metal arm was trapped in a hydraulic press in some abandoned factory. Both Sam and you had pure disbelief on your faces when Steve trusted Bucky enough to believe his every word...just because he could recall Sarah and how Steve wore his shoes. But then you had gotten to know each other, slowly but surely.

It hadn't been all rainbows and sunshine. The trio of you had had your asses kicked by the spider kid, a literal teenager. You and Sam had been imprisoned in the Raft and had to live a couple years as criminals because you had helped Steve in rescuing him. After Thanos happened, Steve had decided to go on his own journey, leaving Bucky with those who didn't really know him and neither did he know them.

But efforts were made on both the sides. You and Sam had welcomed him into the Avengers like your own. Sure he had been more open and closer to Sam first, but that hadn't deterred from trying to befriend him. 

Much like Sam, you had helped him through his night terrors. Been awake with him at odd hours of the night because he couldn't sleep. Helped him discover himself again. Listened to him when he needed an out without any judgement, or talked for the two of you when he wanted to communicate but couldn't. Trusted in him when he didn't even trust himself. Helped him believe in himself and forgive himself. You had helped him recover.

You were with him at the darkest times to guide him to the light, and celebrated with him when he did find his light. There were relapses, but you were with him to help him get back on track. 

You had trusted him enough to let him see your vulnerable spots, to confide in him, to let him take care of you, to let him help you just like you had helped him. You had trusted him enough to let him see you, the real you. 

But most important of all, you had been a friend before anything else. A friend whom he had needed had needed more than anything else.

Feelings had developed along the way, which he was glad for being reciprocated on both sides. The journey to where you and him were now had been a long one. It had never been easy, but it hadn't affected either of you. 

Bucky never wanted to lose you. He couldn't ever possibly lose you. You meant too much to him. He also knew he couldn't dare to think he'd have much time before something akin to Thanos happened again. Being an Avenger guaranteed that nothing was ever guaranteed. Most of all time, in Bucky's case at least.

Looking at you, Bucky realised he couldn't not let you know how he truly felt. No matter what your decision might be afterwards, he had to let you know. He wanted to be his own man, making his own decisions. And he wanted to love you, so goddamn much, if you allowed him.  His heart beat faster in realisation when he realised what that would mean. It made him nervous, but he was ready.

The risque wasn't lost on him. He was very well aware that you could run away in the opposite direction, thinking he was going too fast. You could break it off and your friendship wouldn't be the same again. If you wouldn't want to speak to him again, you would respect your wishes.

But if there was even the slightest chance that you felt the same, he needed to do it. Because the bliss of having you, being with you and loving you was worth every risk in the world.

The divider is made by @writeyourmindaway​

Chapter 9 

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[decodingellipses]

Modern Love: He Made Affection Feel Simple

[courtesy of Brian Rea]

"Dating as a transgender woman, in my experience, meant low expectations and casual sex. Then I met Jack."

This piece is part of the Modern Love column at The New York Times

by Denny

My bio on Grindr read: “Be trans friendly. Send face to chat.”

It was difficult to be on a gay hookup app as a trans woman. Most men in my feed desired to only sleep with each other. But I knew there were straight men on Grindr who hungered for a woman like me. I wanted them too.

That’s where I met Jack. At 22, he was a few months older than me, and, other than his age, his entire profile was blank, usually an indicator of a cisgender straight man who was guarded about his attraction to trans women. Typically, the messages I received would start with a vulgar sext, sometimes an unwanted nude photo.

Living in Morningside Heights, I was attending Fordham University for my master’s degree in strategic communication. One night I was up late working when I received a Grindr message from him, a selfie. Amid his light brown hair, two-day scruff and meek gaze, his lacrosse T-shirt stood out to me the most. He looked like a sporty boy I would have crushed on in high school.

He followed up his photo with “Hello.”

Messages in my Grindr inbox tended to cut to the chase: “Down for now?” “Car sesh?” Men who contacted me because they fantasized about trans women made it difficult for me to feel seen as a person in general, let alone a person worthy of respect.

Although my interest was piqued by Jack’s picture, it was his gentleness that drew me in.

Our sporadic small talk was harmless, spanning two months. I brushed him off, but as I commuted to school and spent hours in the library, he was persistent.

“My sex drive is pretty low these days,” I wrote. “Give me a bit and I’ll hit you up.”

“OK.”

When I turned back to my studies, he added, “Just so you know, we can do non-sex things and hang out too. It would be fun.”

This became our pattern: he being distant enough to show interest without pressure, and me appreciating his laxity, given my demanding schoolwork. His ease led me to trust him, so we set up a day to meet.

The first afternoon Jack came over, he admired my bathtub and drank his cup of water with two hands. His poised demeanor in a beige wool peacoat and long scarf reminded me, in a good way, of John Bender in “The Breakfast Club.” In my bedroom, he fixated on my yellow Power Ranger figurines, noticing my framed academic award next to them on the windowsill.

“You went to SUNY Oneonta?” he said. “I went to SUNY Potsdam.”

I pictured my friends who also attended Potsdam eating in the same cafeteria as Jack, getting drunk at the same frat party. Suddenly, the person I’d seen as a stranger now fit into my world.

I imagined what the deer looked like from his dorm room window, roaming the grass at dawn. Or how he spent his day when the school canceled classes because of snow. Or where he would have gone if his parents were able to afford private school.

We sat on my bed, my back leaning against the wall. He slouched his head onto my hip and wrapped his arms around my waist. “This is weird,” I thought. Aside from sexual intimacy, my hookups were typically aromantic, absent of cuddling and expressions of affection.

I kissed him and rolled on top. I took off my shirt and he hugged me tight. His face dug into my chest as he said, “I like you. I think you’re really cool.”

Unsure how I actually felt, I said, “Oh. I think you’re really cool, too.”

The next time I saw Jack, he spent the night at my place. It was then, awake in bed at 4 a.m., that I realized I had never let a guy sleep over before. His heat warmed the bed, so I crept to the bathroom to cool off. I Snapchatted a disoriented selfie to my friends, my hair messy and eyes bloodshot.

“How do you guys do this sleepover thing?” I wrote. “I can’t sleep at all.”

Customarily, my flings with strange men were brief. The men did not take note of my bathtub or my educational history before sex, and they did not linger after.

I came back into bed, disturbed by the rumble of his snoring, but his sleeping face on my pillow struck me. For the first time, the thought of sharing a bed with a man did not come from pure imagination. I now had a real image for this fantasy; I could pretend Jack was my boyfriend, reach for his face and whisper “I love you, good night,” then fall asleep and meet him somewhere in his dream as if we had done this a hundred times before.

The next day, he flew off to see his family for the holidays and the first weeks of the new year.

“merry crimmus,” I texted.

“u too, babygirl,” he replied.

After our sleepover, I didn’t hear from him unless I initiated — an unexpected change. Instead of giving in to my insecurity that the sleepover meant little to him, and therefore I meant little, I imagined other scenarios: him asking me to sleep at his place, for a change, or spontaneously calling me while I’m in line for my morning coffee. But because I had presumed a sex-only expectation from the start, I shamed myself for developing feelings.

“miss u,” he texted one random morning.

“really?”

We stayed in touch and occasionally saw each other, weeks in between. On a hot morning, he snored behind me as I sat on the floor beside my bed, working on my final thesis. He put his hand up to my face, letting me know he was awake. With my eyes on the laptop screen, I took his hand and planted kisses in his palm, wallowing in these ordinary joys — the kind of affection I slowly grew comfortable displaying.

Longing to be more than casual with him, I sought a therapist to guide me through my growing feelings.

Jack’s periodic “miss u” texts progressed with heart emojis, an unprecedented closeness. And I returned the sentiment. It felt thrilling to express my adoration so directly, until the weeks between seeing each other and texting ultimately turned into months of silence I knew to be ghosting.

I relied on Grindr as my safe dock because dating as trans is complicated. Sleeping around was easier for me. I had set the bar low, then met Jack, who saw me as more than a fantasized body, only to have his mysterious exit echo a looming insecurity I avoided for years: Being trans implies I am not real enough to deserve decency.

I broke down in therapy, mustering the courage to say out loud what was undeniably true: “He left me.”

“I don’t mean to put this on you,” my therapist said, “but could him being a cis straight man and you being a trans woman play a part?”

I didn’t want to blame Jack, who showed me a new realm of affection that made desire feel as simple as just a boy and a girl who liked each other. But he made leaving simple, too; all of this could still not be enough.

Deep down, I denied how my mere existence as a trans woman could ever cost him. Jack, in wooing me, nurtured the possibility that my romantic fantasies could come true, that I could be seen as a complex person rather than a fetishized token of someone’s imagination. After being deserted by him, I ruminated on my insecurity that being trans denied me of even a simple goodbye.

And yet I know myself to be real because my transition, as a teenager, required exceptional certainty. Doctors and psychiatrists double-checked my decision constantly.

“Yes, I’m sure,” I repeated, and I became more real each year. With Jack, I felt even realer. Not only had he seen me as a woman, but as a woman worthy of being held.

I could blame my being trans for Jack’s ghosting, but maybe it had nothing to do with that. Maybe he hated his job. Maybe his family fell apart. Maybe the pleasure we felt together contrasted whatever pain remained of our baggage.

On lonely days, I imagine myself at SUNY Potsdam. At a frat party, I drunkenly dance across from Jack, cheap blue lights grazing the curves of our cheekbones, sweat dripping like cyan fireflies. Neil Diamond’s “Sweet Caroline” roars through the party. “Good times never seemed so good,” everyone shouts. “I’ve been inclined to believe they never would.”

I put myself in the cafeteria, where Jack and I approach the salad bar at the same time. When he sees me, he steps back and says, “You go first,” with a grin so big I would need both hands to hold it.

———

Denny is a writer, actor and musician living in New York City.

[arceneades]

Why I Love She-Ra (2018)

I watched She-Ra after my YouTube feed had been inundated with She-Ra for a couple of years. I just sort of wanted to know what it was all about. People were talking. I was curious.

I think the first time I felt like crying was during the theme song the first time I saw it.

“We’re Gonna Win In The End!”

This was a queer show. I knew that. And... well, I grew up in the 1980s. And people, we are winning. We are winning this fucking fight with the forces of fucking darkness, some of which were in my own mind and heart, and it has been a long god damn slog but we are winning.

In the late 1990s and early 2000s, I worked for a company that published a phone book (yes, a printed book, with phone numbers in it that you could call. It was a different time, okay?) that was targeted to the gay community. Specifically, it was a yellow page directory with advertisements for restaurants, and florists, and plumbers, and towing services, and any other business that you could think of that were paying money to let gay customers know that they would be treated like fucking human beings by that business.

That book doubled in size every year for 4 years. Because we were winning.

It took decades to go from the Defense of (straight) Marriage Act to nationwide acknowledgement of marriage rights. But we got there. Because we are winning. And I care about this fight.

So, yeah. I’m in. Let’s go. We’re gonna win in the end.

The feels did not stop. I cried during “Promise”. Well, I mean, of course I did, I’m not an inhuman monster. I cried during the battle of Bright Moon. I cried for Catra when Shadow Weaver left her, when she hurt her friends, when her pain and rage tore the world apart. She just kept breaking my heart. I wanted her to make just one good decision.

She did, of course, and I cried about that too. I knew what was coming with “Corridors” but it killed me anyway, Adora’s “no, no, no” just bruised my soul.

And “Save the Cat”? Adora’s righteous fury and the power of her love for Catra... again. Tears.

Maybe it was just 2020. Maybe my emotions were just close to the surface. I don’t know. I HURT for those kids. I wanted them to be okay. I still want them to be okay.

But I also felt seen. Seen in a way that... was different.

I was a middle aged, cis-gendered, straight white male. And this show was hitting me, and hitting me hard, and I didn’t know why. I was invested in this love story. I was invested in the war. I knew they were the same thing.

Not unusual, I suppose. I’m a Jane Austen fan. I like love stories. I like it when main characters get together. I’ve read Pride & Prejudice more than twice. But I don’t feel seen when I do.

Part of it was Catra. We all probably have some Catra in us. I might have more than most. It’s taken a long time to get some of my more extreme behaviors under control, although my rage and trauma tends to direct inward, not outward.

Part of it was Adora. I love characters that reflect fierce protectiveness, a part of us that wants to stand between the universe and the people we love and say “No, You can’t hurt them. You can’t have them. They. Are. Mine.”

But hey, you know, Tony Stark has that vibe in “Avengers: Endgame” and even dies to protect what he loves and while that speaks to me, I don’t feel... seen.

Tony Stark is played by Robert Downey Jr, an actor I grew up watching. Avengers is essentially built for me to watch. Literally, I am the target market, me and the kids I’m going to bring to the theater. I don’t feel seen. Marketed to, maybe. But not seen.

Which led me to wonder why a love story about two lesbians who are too young to drink, set in a world where it is not only okay to be a teenage lesbian but it isn’t even worth commenting on, meant so very much to me.

And thinking about that reminded me of something. Which is that when I was super into Second Life, a decade or so ago, I always used a female avatar. Always.

And it felt right. Perfectly right. And I had a lot of conversations with trans people who were also using female avatars because it helped them get along with their dysphoria. A feeling I don’t have. Of course.

I mean, sure. I prefer playing female avatars in games. That’s totally a cis-het thing to do, right? You know the joke, “If I’m going to be staring at an ass, it might as well be a nice ass.”

Okay, so maybe, just maybe, I did sort of decide that I wasn’t a man during that time. I wasn’t sleeping. I was depressed. I hated my job. Totally understandable. My friends straightened me out, shamed me out of that. Maybe that wasn’t the nicest way they could have approached that but I got shamed out of it, didn’t I? If I were actually trans, that wouldn’t happen. Right?

And I like being male. Well, I like the privileges that come with being male. I like having the upper body strength, and I find other men to be sufficiently terrifying that I wouldn’t want to... take off the armor. Not around them.

Yes, maybe, just maybe, I would prefer to have sex as a woman, given the option. That doesn’t make me trans, it just means that I really feel at home around lesbians and want to be a part of their world. Totally normal cis-het feelings there. It’s not like I would actually transform into a woman if I had a magic wand. I mean, not permanently. Not all the time. Just, you know, sometimes. When I wanted to take the armor off. Just when it felt safe.

Totally. Normal. Cis-Het. Feelings.

I mean, obviously I don’t want to be a woman. I don’t want to carry breasts around, for one thing. Looks uncomfortable. I like having just muscle up there instead, thank you very much. And I’m super comfortable with short hair and a beard. It’s a good look for me. I wouldn’t want to look different. I’m happy with my hormone mix. So, there you go. I’m a boy. 

So why don’t I want to be one?

This argument has been raging in my skull forever. Am I a boy? I’m not a girl. I like being able to grow a beard. I’m as Dad a Dad as any Dad on the face of the planet. I don’t want breasts. But... I sort of do want hips.

When I first started questioning my gender, as far as I knew, there were two options. And neither of them fit. Because what I am is non-binary. A fact I would not know if Noelle had not made SPOP, and I don’t know how I can possibly thank her enough for that.

And according to the kids on the enby lesbians server, I’m a non-binary lesbian, which explains the fact that I’m on my fifth Subaru, but doesn’t explain why I don’t currently share my life with a mixed breed Labrador.

I am queer. I felt seen watching She-Ra because I was seen. On Etheria, everyone would use my pronouns. On Etheria, my friends would have helped me through my gender crisis. On Etheria, even in a war, we love and accept each other for who we are. We see each other.

We’re not on Etheria. But I believe we’ll get there.

We’re gonna win in the end.

[obsssions]

━♡ guess the 21 YEAR OLD JUNE baby just arrived to dallyeog! it makes sense, because LEE JANGMI is just as EXTENDED as the month of JUNE. wait, why do they remind me of KIM JIWOO? beyond that, they seemed FAIR & APPRECIATIVE upon first glance. i heard someone say they’re sort of MELODRAMATIC & DEFENSIVE though. i hope they get acquainted here in COMPLEX #2 / APARTMENT #0612 / FLOOR #4 ; SHE seems to have a lot going on with HER job as a ZOOKEEPER'S APPRENTICE.

hi hi hi everyone. i’m hyacinth & this little june baby goes by the name of jangmi. she is really just a few bad personality traits and needless animal facts stacked up on top of each other and wearing a trench coat. (◠﹏◠✿) i love her very much and hope you all do too ( but if you do not i understand~ she is not for everyone. dare i say, she is for NO ONE?! ) tw: death mention below the cut. please, stay safe.

pinboard ♡ stats ♡ plots

BIRTH NAME *   lee   jangmi.

NICKNAMES *     “  mimi.  ”  

BIRTHDAY *    june    12th  ,    1999.

GENDER *    cis female.

WESTERN ZODIAC SIGN *   gemini.

EASTERN ZODIAC SIGN *    tiger.

BLOOD TYPE *   ab.

HOMETOWN *   jeju  island  ,  jeju-do  ,   republic   of   korea.

FAMILY *      lee   minseok   (   father  /  bed  and  breakfast  owner  )  ,  lee   (   formerly park   )   hyejin   (   mother  /  unknown  )

SEXUAL ORIENTATION *    bisexual .

POSITIVE TRAITS *      playful     ,     endearing     ,     engaging     ,     fair     ,     &     appreciative .

NEGATIVE TRAITS *      melodramatic     ,     temperamental     ,     headstrong     ,     finicky     ,       &     defensive .

                  JANGMI grew up rather sheltered, she was the apple of her father’s eye. his only child, his best and brightest star. jangmi never knew her mother -- and her father wouldn’t speak much about her -- which caused a young jangmi to imagine that the woman lived a rather luxurious yet daring life. the girl pictured her mother as everything from a spy to a diplomat to a professor to an astronaut. wherever the girl’s interests lay, that’s where she could find her mother.

                  HOWEVER, as she grew taller and wiser with age, the questions she had about her missing mother only grew and grew. she feared asking her father outright, sure that the reason he never brought her up was due to the crushing way in which he missed her. jangmi figured it was like the sea, ever-present and unchanging. jangmi grew curious; she grew imaginative. the girl always had questions regarding anything and everything. 

                  THAT BEING SAID, she was an inquisitive child, always trying to better herself and outdo her best. she maintained good grades throughout school and tried her hardest to be friendly to everyone -- even when that came at the cost of others whispering about her behind her back, saying she was too quiet, too odd, too set in her own ways. so what if she didn’t have many friends? it had never bothered her before and it wouldn’t bother her now . . . or would it? the loneliness got to be a little much and, whenever that happened, jangmi’s mind would wander back to her mother. where was she? who was she? why isn’t she with me? these three questions -- in varying ways and phrasings -- were what kept her up at night. she needed to know, and she made it her mission to find out someday. pushing things off for future occasions became something of her forte, her bread and butter. jangmi’s problems were tomorrow’s headaches.

                  BUT TOMORROW ALWAYS CAME, didn’t it? sure enough, the sun always rose and she was always forced to face her problems head on ( although she did not want to. no, not at all. ) the girl knew it would be in her best interest to follow through, to seek out new horizons and do her best . . . but why did it require so much work? why did everything worthwhile in life cause her such stress and too many headaches? jangmi found herself working twice as hard to get half the reward as everyone else, but that was until she found her true calling.

                  ALL THAT HAD BEEN SAID about her not being the best at making friends was true. her conversational skills were nothing to write home about, and she liked to daydream her days and nights away. that didn’t mean that she was opposed to connection. no, quite the opposite, actually. jangmi craved closeness and intimacy; she wanted people to like her in the same way that she liked them so much it made her soul ache. however, she knew her limits. she knew that she wasn’t the most exciting or important or even entertaining person. it��s only so long that people will want to hear fun facts about television shows, after all. but jangmi found her calling and realized that it was calling her to get a little . . . wild.

                  SHE APPLIED FOR A JOB AT THE ZOO ON A WHIM, a late night whim -- the type that typically found her eating ramen in her room at 4 am while watching hours-long documentaries about some odd topic that she’d only been interested in for the past twenty minutes. jangmi almost didn’t answer the call to schedule an interview, out of fear that it was one of those scams where the person sounded like her father calling from jail. however, she did pick it up to find that it was the real director of the seoul grand park zoo, asking about her references and such. jangmi couldn’t believe her ears -- had she really gotten the job?

                  YES. yes, she had. all of those nights at school, where it felt like getting a biology degree was getting her nowhere paid off and she was spending her days cleaning up after the cheetahs and helping bathe the rhinos. making connections with people might have been difficult, but it was all too easy for jangmi to fall in love with the animals ( and feel like they were falling in love with her, too. ) she felt a strong bond with the sturdy elephants and how they were constantly being misunderstood. of course, they had little in common besides that, but it was enough to bring some joy into jangmi’s life. of course, with the new job meant a new city. it was goodbye to jeju and hello to seoul. never in a million, billion years could she have seen herself living it up in the big city, but here she was. she finds dallyeog through an ad in the paper and, upon seeing it for the first time, mimi felt an odd peace wash over her. perhaps this was where she was supposed to end up all along.

               OF COURSE certain things still haunted her. she’d never been this far from her father before, but he was likely very busy with the tourism season coming up and the renovations that were being done on the inn. however, she always kept coming back to her mother. what happened to her? it didn’t make sense to jangmi and she was tired of having so much in her life going right ( or seeming to be close to heading down that path ) when that -- that all important thing -- remained a mystery. so, she reaches out to her aunt, figuring that the woman will give it to her straight. aunt hyehoon never minced words and, while it bothered jangmi when she was younger, right now, she needed the sour truth more than she needed a sugar-coated lie.

                  ALAS, what she came to find out was nothing of the sort and, actually, terrifying.

                  ❝  I KILLED HER?   ❞

no wanted connections yet because that would require me to be a human being and not the animal crossing villager that i am............................. BUT please give her some friends / enemies / crushes / exes / social media besties / people she loves / people who hate her .................. you know, the usual plot types. honestly if you come to me and say “i think jangmi and my muse should try to make up their own language and be those irritating neighbors who are running around speaking their made up language” i will say “so true bestie let’s do it.” i am down for anything! replies might be slow because i have a long shift today BUT i see you all and i love you all! i do! not making that up haha!

I PROMISE I WILL BE LESS OF A MESS TOMORROW :OOOOOOOOOO

[dinahperlman-sb]

I saw [DINAH PERLMAN] at a coffee shop in [MANHATTAN] today. I forgot how much [SHE] looks like [INBAR LAVI]. They are a [THIRTY-FOUR] year old [ASSISTANT DISTRICT ATTORNEY] who’s been in NYC for [SIXTEEN YEARS (ON AND OFF)] now. Every time we run into each other, they are always [INTELLIGENT & PASSIONATE] but I’ve heard people say they can also be [SUSPICIOUS & CURT]. [FIND AN ISLAND BY BENEE] reminds me of them every time it comes on the radio. — [gabs, she/her, 24, est]

it’s gabs again! finally presenting u my sad baby bean dinah! she’s a fairly new character so she is open for any connections y’all might need! | @villagestart

tw: death, emotional abuse

about —

full name: dinah jane perlman age: 34 birthday: january 6th, 1987 sexual orientation: demisexual/heteroromantic gender: cis female pronouns: she/her

bio —

tw: death, emotional abuse

dinah was the only child of adam and davina perlman, born in rochester, new york. she grew up a happy girl, with a close bond to both of her parents, who were also happily married. as a small girl in a situation as privileged as the one she was in, she had no idea just how rare it was. she attended many classes and spent all of her free time doing activities with her parents, it was almost a childhood out of a fairytale.

DEATH TW. it was unfortunate, but very early in her life, the peaceful and loving world she’d been raised in would be ripped away from her in an instant. she was ten years old when the accident happened. it was a head-on collision, and according to many, dinah had been lucky to have survived the hit, especially with as little injuries as she did. whereas her parents hadn’t been so lucky, and had died either instantly or before reaching the hospital. 

she had only ever been close to her parents, she had never even met any extended family. so it was a surprise when her uncle, her father’s brother, stepped up and volunteered to take care of his brother’s only daughter, just as he had done with his company — as a way to honor his memory, he had said.

ABUSE TW. dinah moved into her uncle’s house in hermosa beach, california, soon after all formalities were over and done with. lifestyle wise, it wasn’t too bad of an adjustment, maybe just the warm winters were the ones that confused her the most. but everything else... it was a very chaotic change in dinah’s life. to begin, her new guardians, her uncle and aunt... they weren’t nearly as kind as her parents had been. they would put her down with every chance that appeared, only to then tell her it was for her own good. not to mention they were so dead set on keeping up this... perfect family façade with her uncle being the new ceo of the family company and whatnot, especially when she knew how they spoke of everyone involved behind their backs, how they acted with each other behind the scenes... all the yelling, the blaming. it made for a very confused young dinah, when it came to social interactions.

dinah’s only saving grace growing up in california was her cousin, natalie. the two were close in age, and she found solace in the girl. natalie reminded her a little bit of what her life had been like in upstate new york, she had this soft character that reminded her of her mother. despite going through the same stuff, natalie had always chosen to be kind and remain herself, so she wouldn’t become bitter like her parents had. so the girls were best friends, and in all formality, they were like sisters.

in high school, dinah had no problems making friends — but there was always something missing. she had learned how to treat people and have them like her from her new family, but she had never really been able to have a connection like the one she had with her parents in her early youth. until alexander came around. he was going through a whole new kind of shit that dinah couldn’t quite grasp, but she understood the motions of grieving and losing someone you love. they became close friends, and eventually, dinah’s first serious relationship.

despite her new family’s thoughts, she moved to new york city with alex with the premise of going to college. it wasn’t a complete lie, but it was also an excuse to leave that home and build something with her love, something that could become what she had had in her childhood, to her future children. it all seemed like it was falling into place: her degree in psychology and an engagement to the love of her life.

of course though, based on past experiences, dinah had some suspicion with how well her life was going. it usually ended up a preface to something terrible, something she had no control over. and well, her suspicions ended up being correct — while she attended law school, her previously perfect relationship with alex quickly deteriorated... until there was nothing else to do. and the engagement ended fairly quickly after she realized they had reached that point of no return. 

very much in her feelings about the failed engagement, dinah began refusing the love and care natalie would always offer. it came as something hypocritical to her, as she seemed to be so happy with her partner, that her parents seemed to love so very much. why couldn’t they have supported her, too? and why hadn’t natalie defended her?

DEATH TW. the woman decided to stay in new york despite the clusterfuck that it had become, dinah refused to make any appearances in california, she hadn’t even attended natalie’s baby’s birth. but she would soon regret her choices, as a year or so after the baby’s birth, dinah received the news that both the baby and nat had died in a car crash. of all things, a fucking car crash. part of her felt like she held some curse, and maybe that was why alexander had fallen out of love with her so quickly.

these kind of situations will harden up anyone. the woman placed her focus almost entirely on her work, doing some paralegal work in a number of offices, until reaching the district attorney’s office, recently getting the job as an assistant district attorney.

after natalie’s death, dinah actually came to learn that her relationship with her baby’s dad wasn’t as accepted with their family as she had first thought (which infuriated her. how could she not have known? they did the same to her!) and how little her uncle seemed to care. how he was mostly angry at the inconvenience. since then, there’s been some alarm bell ringing every time she has to be in contact with the man. she’s turning a blind eye to the suspicion, but she’s starting to think that her parents’ death was way too similar to natalie’s.

 headcanons —

dinah has tried to channel her negative energy since losing natalie into self-defense. she’s proficient in krav maga and kickboxing!

very recently though, she realized aggression wasn’t the best way for her to go about things (although self-defense has proven to be useful in the city and in the courtrooms), dinah found a healthier way for her to let out her energy: dancing. nothing fancy, she attends some classes and loves throwing it back on the weekends lmao

her apartment complex doesn’t allow pets, but she’s befriended a feral cat that she feeds and pets every so often. still needs a name for the cat.

[dock-at-the-port]

𝔏𝔲𝔠𝔦𝔞 𝔜𝔲

｢ GEMMA CHAN, CIS FEMALE, 35, SHE/HER ｣ ⟨ ✽ ⟩ hey, you haven’t bumped into Lucia Yu lately, have you? they have been living here for the past 6 months and during that time, locals have gotten to know them as generous & dedicated. a little birdie told me they can be quite naive & neurotic though. explains why they’re a baker. they really remind me of the smell of freshly baked bread, dinner by candlelight, and warm hugs. if you’re ever looking for them, i bet you can find them around Māma’s.

further information under the cut;

[TWs: undetailed discussion of an accident, death, and grief]

- Lucia was born in a small flat in Southend-on-Sea, and named for the island country where her parents found love. Hau Lin Yu and Miles Haywood happened to meet at a resort - she was there on a volunteer project, while he was there for a wedding - and never quite forgot each other. For years after what they both thought would be a brief, fondly-remembered fling, they exchanged letters and parcels, until they eventually realised they couldn’t be without one another. After one trip together in England, and then another in China, Miles returned home and mailed off an engagement ring the same day he returned.

- Love was all Lucia knew in her infancy. Her parents were unendingly besotted with one another, and although her father’s parents hadn’t taken so kindly to the union, Lucia’s maternal grandparents fawned over her from a distance. Money was often tight; her mother was a schoolteacher, while her father was a postman, but rarely did anything feel missing in Lucia’s early years. She was a gregarious little girl, friendly to all and enthused by the world around her, with her loving parents encouraging and shielding her all the while.

- Food was at the heart of their household. Lucia first learned to cook alongside her dad, who often finished work far earlier than her mum. He would sit her on the counter and let her be his little helper, passing ingredients and utensils, narrating everything as he went until the meal was done, and they could all enjoy it together. The kitchen was a place to share yourself with others, he would tell her - the route to the heart would always lead through the stomach. On weekends, her mother would still wake up early, and together they’d make breakfast - pancakes in silly shapes that they’d decorate together, bacon and egg smiles, the works. Preparing food was not only to show your love to others, but to yourself. There was no greater act of self-nurturing than preparing a meal or a treat to enjoy. Baking came next, mostly at the behest of her grandmother, who often mailed over packages of delicious Chinese treats rarely found on the coast of England.

- Lucia’s experiences in school were a mixed bag. Friends came and went, often fighting over petty things like borrowed toys and losing games, which left her in the lurch - conflict of that sort was new to her. Her family couldn’t afford all the latest gadgets and crazes, and so there were moments where she felt a bit left out, but her kind and outgoing ways won over most people in the end. The occasional class bully would pull her hair and call her names, but she had friends to fall back on and a family who soothed all woes - what more could she want?

- ...Well, kinder teachers, perhaps. It took a grand total of 15 years for anybody to realise that Lucia was dyslexic. Up until then, she’d heard the same things over and over - she needed to try harder, she just had to apply herself, maybe if she talked a little less in class and raised her hand a little more, she wouldn’t be so stupid. The diagnosis almost felt like too little too late; sure, she’d get extra time for her GCSEs, but her confidence in her own intelligence wouldn’t be so simply won back.

- Still, Lucia spent those formative years growing and learning, in and outside of the British education system. The most significant milestone of which was her first visit to her grandparents in Yantai, China. Her Mandarin was shaky at that point, but her family were warm and welcoming. Her grandfather worked on the docks and knew the town inside and out; immediately, she was the apple of his eye, and all of his fellow retired fishermen knew it. Going out in one of the old boats was a particular highlight - one they’d promised to keep a secret for the rest of their days, lest her grandmother had a fit on finding out. Her grandmother was absolutely the head of their household, but she led it with love first, something she had clearly passed down through the generations. The recipes, however, might have skipped one. Lucia’s mother wasn’t much of a baker, but her grandmother was, and they spent a large part of their visit together in the kitchen. Lucia was a natural, apparently - she had a patient, delicate touch, and plenty of treats to take home with her once all was said and done. Those plane tickets were expensive, but Lucia left with a solemn promise that they’d meet again, as soon as they had the means between them.

- When they returned home, Lucia’s mother decided baking would be a weekly tradition, since her daughter took such a shine to it. Being in the kitchen together became all the more sacred; now, it tied Lucia to her heritage as well. Lucia’s family had grown, their connections had deepened, and everything else felt secondary.

- Baking went from a weekly tradition, to a way of life. First it was the occasional school fundraising event, next it was friend’s birthday cakes, next it was their parents offering money for cakes of their own for parties and the like, then neighbours, until she was almost overrun. Her mum would help - although by that point, her involvement stopped at pitching ideas for decorations, and helping with the dishes afterwards. Her father, proud as ever, snuck supplies home from work to help with deliveries, and Lucia knew what she wanted to do with the rest of her life.

- Academics had always been a bit of a struggle for Lucia as a result of her dyslexia, but that wasn’t so much of a deciding factor for culinary school. The day her acceptance letter from Le Cordon Bleu London arrived was a whirlwind, filled with celebration and joy, long phonecalls with her grandparents and, for the first time in a long time, a cake she didn’t have to make. Her mother had been practicing, apparently - sneaking in attempts here and there, until she finally managed to make a cake of her own. Lucia took a photo of it, one she framed and hung up in her new student accommodation with teary eyes, after a watery farewell from her family. It was the first time she’d ever been away from them, and although the programme was only meant to take 9 months, she knew she’d spend it with a heavy heart.

- Things grew heavier still when, one Tuesday evening, her weekly call home wasn’t answered. Her friends told her it was probably nothing, they were just caught up somewhere, she should just join them for dinner and forget about it - but she knew something wasn’t right. Her fears held true, and finally at two in the morning, one of her phonecalls received an answer. There was an accident, her father told her, through words he could barely string together; her mother hadn’t made it. The only consolation they had was that the paramedics suspected it had been quick for her.

- Despite a wealth of encouragement and support, finishing the programme was just too much. Her father welcomed her home with as much joy as he could muster for somebody suddenly without his soulmate for the first time in years, and together, the two tried to figure out where they fit in the world without its centre. Most of Lucia’s days for the following month involved waking up, making sure her father ate, and crawling back into bed with no further sense of how to go on.

- The funeral was full of friends and family, including Lucia’s grandparents. Being with them felt like home again - and for the first time in a long time, Lucia felt warm in their arms. She felt loved, cared for, like she hadn’t lost everything - and it seemed she and her father did the same for them. A week passed with them staying, and then another, and eventually it was decided; they were family. They had to stay. The elders sold their home, pooled together what savings they had, and emigrated for good. It was nice, to have their constant presence around. It took a year for her father to smile like he meant it at all again, but he got there, and they still had each other.

- Eventually, Lucia realised she had to start working - but baking didn’t feel like an option anymore. It would be years until her grandmother managed to convince her to try it again, and in the meantime, her father knew their local post office was looking for more clerks. She started up, and didn’t look back.

- It wasn’t until she came home from work one evening to find her grandmother baking with her mother’s favourite CD playing in the background (an ABBA album, of course,) that Lucia returned to her rightful place. With a gentle goading, and the revelation that her grandmother baked to feel more connected to her family. It wasn’t long until the rest of the family joined in, rolling out pastry and singing the lyrics they knew, until they’d completed a tray of egg custard tarts with candles in their centre. It felt like the right way to celebrate her late mother’s birthday.

- With her passion rekindled and slowly catching alight, Lucia began indulging in her baking as a hobby once more. It was almost the same spiral as before - it started off with the occasional treat she shared with her coworkers, then she was the designated cake-provider for any work celebrations, then for their families and friends… So on and so forth, until everybody around her was raving about it. She didn’t think of pursuing it any further until one day, before she clocked out for the evening, her coworker Linda stuffed a stack of papers in her hands, and told her she wasn’t allowed to leave until it was all filled out. By 6pm that evening Lucia had completed an application for a popular baking TV show, and mailed it in under the assumption she’d never hear from them again.

- But hear from them she did. One very unexpected phone call later, the cameras turned up at her door, ready to collect some B-roll footage of her doing what she did best. That summer, the competition began, and by its end Lucia had a diverse range of lifelong friends, and a trophy she’d keep forever alongside that framed picture of her mum’s homemade cake. Lucia made quite a name for herself during her time on the show too - her habit of humming as she went and getting distracted by helping out her competitors earned her quite a bit of public favour, along with her Chinese twists on British classics, and vice versa. There were upsides and downsides to being a household name throughout the UK - her life story being close to common knowledge, and strangers asking her about her mother was a particularly strange drawback - but the opportunities it presented to her were invaluable. The most tempting of which was the offer of her own show on the Food Network, but she couldn’t possibly leave her family and jet off to the states… Could she?

- They insisted. The anxiety Lucia felt leaving her family behind for the second time in her life was gargantuan, but they wouldn’t hear of her staying behind to take care of them any longer. They had each other, and they’d still have her - her grandparents would figure out videocalls eventually, and they’d be watching every second of her show.

- America was very different to England, or even Yantai, and working on her own show was demonstrably different to competing in the last one. Hair, makeup, scripts, assistants following her around, taking care of her prep work, keeping her on a schedule she didn’t get to make. Hell, they insisted on changing her name - Lucy Yu’s Desserts of the World just had a better ring to it than Lucia did - and she went along with it, keen to live up to her promises. Filming and baking was fine, but everything else felt like a little bit too much. She was lonely too, aside from the few hours she managed to sneak to herself to share with her family, and Lucia found herself longing for something more.

- [WC incoming!] Ever since she was a little girl Lucia wanted to find her soulmate, the same way her mother and father had, and she was convinced she’d achieved that the day she first appeared on a late night talkshow. She’d gone on stage grinning like a giddy schoolgirl, and on more than one occasion during the interview she’d gotten distracted, thinking of them, even though they’d only just met. Her management gave her hell for it later, but she still had their number in her pocket - she sent a text, they set their first date, and the rest was history.

- For three years, Lucia lived in bliss. The first season of her show went over phenomenally, and she secured a contract for two more before it had even finished airing. As a result, she had enough to fly her family over to visit, and to make sure they lived comfortably for the rest of their days. They were proud, she was in love - she missed her mother dearly, but those emotions had a place in her life. Everything had - including the engagement ring she’d taken to carry around in her back pocket.

- She never got to use it. She wasn’t sure what happened - everything had seemed so perfect until they turned around and told her they couldn’t do it anymore. She just wasn’t an option, or something like that; honestly, with her heart pounding in her throat, she could barely piece together the reasons she was given, let alone her heart. She was in the midst of filming the third season at the time, and the following week when the idea of her contract being extended floated her way, she declined. The press were everywhere, swarming her, lapping up her tragedy for clicks and views - Lucia had never known anger quite like it. LA didn’t feel safe anymore, and her heartbreak kept it from feeling like home. Their name was on the lease, and they wouldn’t answer her calls, but she knew she had to move. Once again, Lucia packed up, and decided to focus on the love of her life that she could actually trust: her baking.

- There were properties all over the country she could have chosen, but Port Briar fit just right. The coast reminded her both of Yantai and Southend-on-Sea, the same way it did for her family. The apartment above the property was big enough for them all, and they were perfectly eager to help her launch something of her very own. It was another year in the making, of her and her father flying back and forth to renovate the place, and her grandmother poring over old and new family recipes, but before too long, Māma’s was open for business.

- Māma’s is a quaint, family owned bakery and cafe. Located on Dalry hill t hey serve a mixture of sweet treats from different parts of the globe, with a rotating treat of the week shelf to keep regulars coming back for something new - but their specialties are British and Chinese classics, with a few American favourites sprinkled in for good measure. With a range of delicious desserts for all occasions, and enough hot drinks to soothe all of Port Briar through the winter, Māma’s is slowly cementing itself as a must-visit spot amongst residents and tourists alike.

[that-damn-girl]

(7) Bucky and The Bed

Completed

Chapter 6

Bucky and The Bed Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (cis)fem!reader

Words: 4000+

Summary: You and Bucky are stranded in the middle of a snowy nowhere when there is an 'electronic blackout' during your mission. With no back ups or any way to contact your team, you take refuge from the worsening weather in the only cabin you find  in miles. Not to mention, with no power, Bucky has become your personal heater and there's only one bed.

Chapter type: Soft smut. Fluff. Teasing.

Chapter/Trigger warning: Smut. 18+ only please. Language.

A/N: Thank you for continuing to read this series. Hope you like this part!

Laying on your side, as consciousness slowly sipped into you, you noticed a few things around you before you could open your eyes. A heavy arm laid on your middle, not exactly clutching you in its grasp, but rather just holding you close, safe and sound in its hold. A warmth, fulfilling and rich, cocooned your body. Low and soft, broken moans and grunts poured right into your ears from behind as short gusts of warm breath tickled your cartilage.

Most prominent of them all though, was the hard length nestled bare in between the soft skin of your butt cheeks. The gentle rutting of Bucky's cock on your ass ignited a desire to flow through you. Although half asleep, the feel of it all was too overwhelming to ignore. Half, incomplete moans in your ears in his morning gravely voice were much more delicious than ever.

Somewhere in the back of your head, you could sense that he wasn't awake, grooving his member against you in his sleep. That somehow made it that much more intimate, to know that even when unconscious, he sought for you and your warmth. That even when unconscious, in his most vulnerable state, he trusted you with every part of himself.

You couldn't help but buck your hips against Bucky, relishing in the way the grunts behind you sounded heavier with much more feels. It only caused your core to tighten, a heat to pool between your thighs. Even though you weren't fully awake yet, your brain still unconscious enough to not remember much in clear details, your sleep laced mind knew who it was behind you. Holding you closely, giving you a sense of security,  making a wave a pleasure course through you and he pleasured himself. Almost as if thinking of anyone else but him in that moment would feel wrong.

"Bucky," you moaned as he humped harder against you. Hearing your sweet voice calling out his name sinfully, something propelled him to clutch his arm tighter around you and bring your behind closer to his. As his length pressed more firmly against you, telling you just how hard he was, you unintendedly moaned louder. 

His name leaving your lips in such an erotic manner gradually roused him from his sleep. As the haziness cleared from his mind, Bucky immediately stopped what he was doing, quite ashamed of himself for taking advantage of you like that, wondering what he started doing it in the first place. 

Bucky noticed the feel of your smooth skin bare under his touch. He couldn't help but drag his curious hands across your torso but stopped when his fingers touched the underside of your breasts. He blushed quite hard too. Despite the blankets covering your forms, he could see your bare shoulders peeking from underneath. 

He blushed even harder as he realised neither you nor him had any layers on beneath the blankets. It didn't help his case when he realised his member was settled quite snugly between your ass cheeks.

Bucky wrecked his mind to remember why the pair of you were in such a state of undress, until the last night came back to him. The confessions, the moans, the words, everything came rushing to him, to remind him how lucky of a man you had made him by accepting to be his girl. In an instant he was overjoyed. Overjoyed to know that all of it was real, to know that none of it was a dream. 

"Y/N," he said, bending down to place a trail of soft loving kisses on your shoulder and along the curve of your neck. 

Now nearly awake, you tilted your head to give him more space and gingerly brought his arm from underneath your breasts to upon it. Taking the hint, he kneaded and softly squeezed your boobs. You bucked your hips against his again, but his hands stopped you from taking anything further.

He let out a sigh before turned you on your back and looked deeply into your eyes. For some reason, his eyes looked regretful to you, "I am sorry, Y/N. I didn't know I was doing it in my sleep. I don't want you to think that I was taking your advantage or anything. You have to know I'd never do anything like that-"

Smushing his face between your palms, you quickly cut him off with a kiss. Bucky was taken aback for a second, but he took a hold of his bearings and kissed you back passionately. A hand looped around your waist and he rubbed your back which led him to palm your ass fondly.

You pulled back and leaned on your elbows to look at him in the eyes. How much more perfect could a man be? Caressing his cheek, you tucked a loose strand of hair behind his ear, "I was enjoying it, Bucky. And I know you'd never do anything of the sort. Why do you always forget that I told you," you leaned forward and pecked him on the lips slowly, "I trust you."

Bucky smiled widely in between short kisses, thanking his stars for finally letting him have someone as precious as you. You kept kissing each other for a while, drunk on the newfound love between you two. Hands roamed the other's body slowly, sensually, appreciatively.

Bucky had never been as close to heaven as he had been in that moment. His warm body bare against yours, not separated by any nonsensical thing; you in his arms, taking comfort in his hold while giving him some too. Kissing you, touching you, loving you. Really, this was no less than heaven for him.

You trying to rub your thigh against his erection was a wonderful bonus.

Putting you back on your back, Bucky slightly leaned over you as he laid on his side. You swore you could see stars alone from the way his plump lips kissed you, his tongue caressing your inside your mouth.

"Can I touch you this way?" You asked, carefully laying a hand on his shaft under the blankets. 

Bucky drew in a sharp breath at the touch, a bit surprised but loving it nonetheless. "Trust me, it’s more than okay," he said. He was about to ask you something too, but you beat him to it.

"You can touch me anywhere anyway you want to, really. I'm comfortable with it as long as you are." 

You delicately wrapped your palm around him and started pumping him slowly. His member throbbed under your touch, making you feel immensely good for having such an effect on him. Gently sweeping your thumb over his head, you used the little beads of precum to lubricate his shaft. Bucky hid his face in the crook of your neck as you did so, a lewd Ah escaping his lips.

He soon brought his fingers downward to your sex. Running them through your slit and finding it wet, he seductively whispered in your ear, "All of this for me, doll?" 

"Everything, for you." You whispered back. He collected your on his fingers before taking them up to your clit, stroking it tenderly, making you only wetter by the second. You bit your lips as a new wave of desire coursed through you. 

You focused on pleasuring Bucky as good as he pleasured you. Holding his member a little more tightly, you flicked your wrists with every up and down movement as much as your cramped up position allowed. Your thumb caressed his head every so often, making him moan obscenely every time you did that.

And his moans, oh god his moans.

If you thought his morning voice was sexy, his moans and grunts were another level entirely. Listening to his gruff, gravely voice repeat your name  with Ohs and Ahs - uncontrolled, purely on instinct, just for your ears, was a new high for you.

Your need to see him was just as bad as your need to hear him. Gripping the blankets with your free hand, you pushed them away from yourselves as your legs worked on kicking them off. Cool chilly air hit your exposed heated skin when Bucky wasn't covering you in a much more merciless manner than you had anticipated. But one look down your body to glance at his member being stimulated by you; to glance at the drops of precum escaping his slit as you worked on him was worth it.

It didn't last though. You couldn't help closing your eyes and tipping your head back in pleasure as Bucky stepped up his game. Switching between massaging your sensitive nub in various invisible patterns, he had already increased his pace as he put just the right amount of pressure. When you pushed the blankets off of you though, it was a different story. 

He raised his head from your neck to glimpse down where you stroked him and he did to you. Realising that you liked watching it as you played with his shaft, that you loved to see his thick throbbing member let slip precum under your touch, it did something to him, igniting something raw and carnal inside him. 

In an instant he worked his fingers harder and faster on your sensitive clit. Increasing his pace further, he put all of himself into stimulating you, bringing you closer to the edge. The world, the surroundings, nothing mattered to him. It was you and only you on his mind. Being ravished under his fingers, seeking him and his touch to achieve that ultimate goal. 

Closing your eyes, you relished in the feels Bucky was giving you. The scent of your arousal lingered heavily in the air. His full lips attached to your neck, lightly nibbling and sucking the most sensitive of parts. Overwhelmed with all the sensations being bestowed upon your body, you desperately needed to clutch onto something, to keep yourself anchored to the real world. With nothing else to hold onto, you bunched up the sheets in your hand.

Bucky noticed the pace of your hands on his cock faltering for a few moments as your moans rose in volume. He didn't mind it though. It must mean he was doing something right. He was quite proud of it.

"Bucky- ah - it feels so good," you said with your eyes shut tight, desperately trying to focus on pumping Bucky but his fingers worked so well on your pearl that it was hard to concentrate on anything else.

"You are so good," Bucky mumbled in your ear before littering your neck with hot wet kisses, his warm breath pounding your neck. He loved listening to the gorans and mewls falling out of your lips, loved knowing that he was the reason behind them.

The coil in your belly was tightening more and more, yearning to finally be able to let go. You arced your back as he played with your clit, massaging it with expert roll of his fingers. It was dizzying, the rush of feels which followed soon after. 

Moaning helplessly, you let the tension in your abdomen uncoil as you came in Bucky's fingers under his ministrations. Pleasure coursed through your veins hot and fast as you withered next to him.

Your hand unintentionally gripped Bucky's cock harder. Bucky groaned, unbelieving how good it felt. His fingers rubbed you some more, determined to prolong your orgasm. You mewled as his fingers kept teasing you, stretching your orgasm.

You stroked him faster, driven to get him to orgasm as well, deploying all the tricks you could think of. You whispered sweet nothings into his ear, telling him how good he had made you fell, how good you planned to make him feel. 

Reaching the edge himself, Bucky bucked his hips into your hand, desperately awaiting to climax, your touch bringing nothing but delight to him. A few strokes later, Bucky too let himself go, finally tipping over the edge, groaning obscenely. Hot thick ropes of his cum landed on your torso in short bursts, painting your skin with his release.

Panting heavily, you both tried to calm yourselves down from your high. You turned to look at Bucky. Smiling candidly, wide and bright, his expression mirrored your own. Despite your cum-stained selves, the moment felt so raw, so pure, it was heartwarming to say the least. If it were possible, you had already lost yourself in his eyes.

None of you had to say anything to know how wonderful it had been for the other. Your gazes showed everything there was to be known. Holding your hand in his, he interlaced your fingers with his before bringing them close his lips and softly kissing your knuckles. 

Something tugged at your heart from the way he looked at you, his gaze looking deep into your soul with all the love he held for you. Only you. As if you'd hung the moon and the stars, as if you'd bring them to him if he asked you to. Glancing into his gentle blue orbs, you realised you just might. 

Overwhelmed once again with the intensity of his gaze, your chest rose and fell and breaths quickened. And here you thought you were calming yourself down. But how could you, when he was looking at you so lovingly? You knew you were in love with this man. 

But now you knew you were deeply and irrevocably in love with this man.

You couldn't, however, tell him that. Not outright, anyway. While you wanted more, so much more, things needed to be escalated at his pace. His comfort was just as important as yours. If he wanted your relationship to go slow, it'd go slow. Moreover, you were much too afraid to lose something as precious as your and his bond.

Afraid you'd do something, or rather say something you'd regret later, you attempted to divert his attention from your face. Swiping his cum from your skin on your finger, you lewdly licked his cum off your finger, all the while holding his gaze, appreciating the tangy yet sweet taste of him in your moan. 

Watching you, Bucky groaned, "You're going to be the death of me," Cupping your face, he smashed his lips against yours. The kiss was rather hard, hot and heated, and you loved every second of it.

Pulling back, gleeful, bashful smiles once again took a hold of his handsome face. You couldn’t help but let them take their hold on you too. 

You were happy. You were very happy, in fact. But the universe was set on making you feel anything but that.

The near empty cupboards in the kitchen stared back at you, as if mocking and teasing you, challanging  you to somehow improve their state. From the scarce number of jars and cans there were, at least half of them were already expired or not at all edible. What little food was left, it was just that. Little. 

Since day one you and Bucky tried to ration what was left, but even then the daily rations were too small. Normally, the lack of food wouldn’t have bothered you much. Though it wasn’t ideal, you could’ve hunted wild animals to survive. However, where you were stuck seemed to have little to no fauna. You only consoled yourself by reminding your panic stricken mind that if FRIDAY's calculations were true, you'd only have to for half a week more to get back home. 

If.

You didn't doubt Tony's creation, god you didn't at all. But your brain only conjured the worst case scenarios every time you thought about getting out of your predicament. 

You were soon put out of your misery as a pair of strong familiar hands closed around your waist from behind. The wall of Bucky's body pressed firmly against your back. His head dipped to place soft comforting kisses on the curve of your neck, his long locks ticking your skin as he did so. Leaning back against him, encompassing your arms around his own, bending your neck, you greedily took the calm and comfort his presence provided you. 

Oh what a pleasure it was for Bucky! To be able to hold you, cherish you in his arms as and when he desired too. He didn't need to restrain his a-little-too-friendly touches anymore, fearing you'd deem him too forward. He could kiss you sweetly and passionately to his heart's content - and receive the same from you.

A heaven, really.

Resting his head in the hollow of your shoulder, Bucky tightened his arms around you some more. He didn't like the thick heavy layers which were separating you from him. He much preferred feeling your skin against his, your warmth pressed into him without any barriers. If you needed anything thick and heavy, it should've been him covering your body like in the between the sheets that morning, or the night before.

Shaking his head mentally to clear off the creeping ideas, Bucky wondered since when he had become so possessive and territorial. But you were in his arms, safe and sound. It was all that mattered.

"Hey there, is something wrong?" he asked, remembering you seemed distressed a few seconds ago.

"It's-" you started, but stopped yourself before you could continue. Maybe you were worrying for nothing. Maybe all would turn out well and fine as FRIDAY had said. You didn't want to worry Bucky too with your panic laced thoughts. "It's nothing."

Even you could tell how unconvincing that sounded. Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, his voice taking a serious note, "You know you can talk to me, right, doll? You can tell me if something's worrying you."

You leaned into him more, thankful for his comforting presence behind you. "It's probably nothing, but…" And you proceeded to tell him all about all your worries.

Bucky turned you around, keeping his hands on the small of your back. Cradling your face in his metal palm, he said, "It's gonna be alright. Don't worry about it. Everything's gonna be fine."

You were about to say something, but he continued, "Even if things don't turn out as they're supposed to, we'll find another way. We'll work something out. We always do." Looking softly into your eyes, he added in a gentle voice, "I'll take care of you."

Smiling, you circled your arms around his torso and laid your head on his chest, "I know, me too." 

Bucky kissed your head before tucking your head under his chin, "I know you will."

Snuggling closer to the warmth he offered, you said, "It's just so fucking cold." 

"Well, I know of a few things that we could do to keep ourselves warm." 

Pulling back a little, you tilted your head up towards him, your mind thinking of one thing only to keep yourselves 'warm', "You are one insatiable man, Bucky. And I'm loving it."

Bucky looked at you amusingly, his sugary sweet smile replaced by a smug one. Bucky lowly spoke in your ear, "As much as I'd like to undress you and take you apart by my fingers right here, right now, again," Your cheeks flushed as you remembered the fun you'd had that morning right after your supposed breakfast, "I didn't mean that." 

Looking at your confused face, totally not admiring how cute you looked, he continued, "I meant we could spar. It's been a while, you know?"

Cheeks still tinged with your blush for taking his words in a completely different way, you nodded your agreement and moved to the living room. The couch was already moved towards the fireplace, leaving which there really wasn't much furniture to move around to get some open space in the middle. Shrugging off a few layers, you stretched - Bucky totally didn't ogle at your ass while you did so, and started sparring with him.

The atmosphere was light and fun like it had always been with the two of you. Kicks and punches were thrown and dodged, different techniques were applied and rendered useless as each tried to out do the other. The offences were serious though, just enough to tease and enjoy the physical back and forth. After a while of dancing around each other with hits and jabs, it finally looked like one had attained the top hand.

Bucky had your head in a lock with an arm circled around your neck and another across your waist, keeping you immobilised. Though it didn't sound bad. On the contrary, you very much liked the position he had trapped you in.

"What're you gonna do now, Y/N?"

If only he knew. 

Biting your lips, you started wiggling your hips in front of his crotch, pushing your behind back and lightly twerking your hips as best as you could. Bucky wasn't hard then, but you knew if you continued like this it wouldn't take much time.

Catching onto your play, Bucky chuckled, "Oh, that's playing unfair, doll."

"Are you telling me you don't like it?" You asked with a smug smile.

"Quite far from it, baby. I love what you're doing to me." He quickly turned you around without letting you leave his grasp and swiped your leg from under you, letting you fall on the rug below - but gently, of course. "But I won't let you win because of that." He trapped you underneath him by sitting atop your torso, his weight managed on his legs while one arm pinned both your wrists above your head.

Just what you had been waiting for. Jerking your wrists and breaking your hands out of his hold, you grabbed his collar before using his weight against him, throwing him to his side. It didn't take you long to mount him just as he had mounted you before. You didn't pin his hands though, opting to lean forward and run a finger down the side of his face instead, "You sure about that, Mister?"

Flipping you on your back again, quite easily since you didn't restrain him - not that you were trying to, he took the upper hand again and fixed you under his weight. "Quite sure about that."

"Oh, just come here," Smiling unabashedly, you pulled yourself up to sit  on your hips. Your arms curled around his neck as you kissed his full lips lovingly. Though short lived, Bucky enjoyed the kiss thoroughly before he stood up, pulling you up along with him. 

Bucky was walking backwards, you hand clasped in his, dragging you to the couch for an afternoon of cuddling. When his leg hit the corner of the couch at an awfully bad angle, he realised too late he had miscalculated the distance to the couch as he tumbled to the ground with a thump and groan, his eyes contracting in pain.

"Bucky," you shrieked, eyes widening as you saw his descent. Rushing to him, you quickly knelt by his side and raised his head to your lap. "Shit, you alright?" You stroked head gently, looking for any injuries. You'd admit later you were a little too worried.

"Yeah, I'm okay," Buck muttered, "Just didn't expect that."

Suddenly he heard laughter from his side. Peeking open his eyes, he looked at you laughing hysterically. Confusion crept on his face, unsure whether you were trying to take care of him or make fun of him.

"What? What is it?"

In between laughs, you panted as you said, "The Winter Soldier, the White Wolf, one of the most skilled men to walk on this planet, undefeated by an Avenger but defeated by a rusty old couch."

As Bucky heard the irony roll off your tongue, he couldn't help but chuckle alongside too. That, however, wasn't long lived as he was once again enraptured by your beauty. The grin stayed on his lips, but for a different reason then.

Your eyes crinkled beautifully in mirth as the harmonious sound of your laugh filled the air. You were clearly enjoying yourself, while he was enjoying watching you being happy his heart thumping wildly. Looking at you in that moment, Bucky knew he'd do anything humanly possible to keep that radiant smile on your face.

Man, he really had fallen hard for you.

The divider is made by @writeyourmindaway​ 

Chapter 8 

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Thank you for reading!

[maskved]

*inserts incoherent sentences and bad jokes here bcs u know me* shipped miray and vika straight to ketterdam for my girl sora lol so here is my intro and pls plot with me although i suck at getting to my messages, but it’s my toxic charm #yolo (making it cool again).

[ sora nam ], an [ twenty-six ] year old grisha in the little palace. she is a [ inferni ] and are known in the little palace as the [ the taciturn ]. they are known to be [ loyal ] and [ tactless ] and vaguely resemble [ kim jisoo ]. + (she’s a blacksmith sucking at her job but i’ll explain it later)

pinterest

𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏  : mikasa ackerman (snk), kuroko (kuroko no basket), ty lee (atla)

𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐬

full name : nam sora 

age: 26

gender & pronouns : cis-female , she/her

sexuality :  bisexual

grisha type : inferni

occupation: former aerialist, blacksmith

hometown : kabu, shu han

𝒃𝒂𝒄𝒌𝒈𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒅

sexual harrassment tw, death tw

- her story starts the way many others would do. a girl, bright eyes and smiles born in shu han is welcomed by the world. she isn’t born into money and wealth but she the love she receives easily make up for it and she wouldn’t choose any other life.

- yet, sora knows fate has planned more for her; to widen her horizon, see the world beyond the bubble her parents raised her in. she didn’t know how but one day little sora would stand between a spellbound crowd, stretching her little body and tiptoeing to spot what had enchanted them. her eyes would set on a woman, grabbing a trapez bar and swinging through the air, so effortlessly as if it was something natural everyone was supposed to do. - and from this day on she wanted to do the same.

- it didn’t take her long, that she’d become part of a travelling circus. of course she wasn’t perfect at first but she was still a child and whatever a child would do was endearing enough to make people stay. something the owner knew.

- so it would continue until sora would perfect her craft, dreaming of becoming the woman she witnessed back then. yet, it seemed that this barely mattered and even if she became better there was something the director’s eyes, an everlasting displeasure about what it seemed like an empty everything. and how was she supposed to know what this everything was ?

- truth to be told, as always money was the culprit, the root of  greed and the catalyst for atrocious acts by a merciless man claiming it was the world that corrupted him and not his very own tainted soul. 

- it started with him wanting his artists to steal from the crowd when they were enveloped by a stilted dream. yet, his hunger would never be satisfied and soon he’d command his performers not only giving up their body for the circus but also for other purposes. fortunately, sora would only hear from it, noticing the way her friends usually so calm in the air, heights separating them from the ground would shake when they’d talk to her. yet, she could do nothing, they didn’t have a home or a place to go to. sora knew that one day she’d be the same as them and that day would soon come. and when it came moments would turn into a second. dim candle light, a spark, fire everywhere and then she’d run, not knowing what had happened, but continuing to run without looking back.

- in the back of her mind, she knew that it was her, and she shouldn’t have felt bad for getting rid of the people who tried to hurt her. yet, even she couldn’t control the fire, and it wouldn’t differntiate between her resting friends and them.

- she was a criminal, worse, grisha and she knew there was no place for them in shu han, so she planned to go to the little palace, knowing that she’d be safe her. however, even when she arrived, she couldn’t bring herself to let the truth escape from her mind, after all if she didn’t say it, it wouldn’t be real. so she lied, about everything, where she came from and what she was. and most importantly she wasn’t grisha.

- luckily, a friendly blacksmith noticed the desperate girl and without asking too much, they took pity on her, noticing the distraught look and offering her to help them out, tryign to teach her to become a blacksmith.

𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚

- though very quite in nature, almost appearing detached from any situation, sora is quite soft-hearted. taking everything to heart and probably trusting people way too easily. yet, people rarely get to know this side of hers as sora isn’t someone who usually would approach people. adding to her natural introversion, her way with words is improvable to say at least as she tends to be a little too forward. since she’d been young she only interacted with the people she grew up with and therefore did not really learn other and more polite ways to communicate. 

𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒏𝒆𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔

- childhood friends (can be from anywhere) she met when she was performing but they obviously couldn’t stay in touch but they were super close, someone she was supposed to steal from but they noticed it, people who are suspicious of her and think she’s a spy, people who try to actually make her a spy because she might be useful to them but also for comedic purposes she doesn’t notice it, exes for the angst !!!, relative to the people she whoops accidenally killed, friends in general, enemies, listen a first love and they meet again at the little palace, unrequited love bcs i love pain, people from the circus (pls) or someone who sneaked into the circus and witnesses the scene and almostgot killed lol

𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆

- okay, i have that headcanon, that people are generally super suspicious of her. because she is constantly found lurking on the roofs of random people’s houses but also she just generally gives super suspicious vibes due to her personality

- adding to that, she claims to be a blacksmith but all the weapons she make suck tbh. ( also i have that one cute headcanon where a childhood friend (wc) taught her how to forge knives but they also didn’t know how to make them correctly and sora just assumed it was the right way and still thinks it is, so all the knives are crooked)

- also she hates being an inferni as it’ll always remind her of the incident (aka the burning circus part 1) but sometimes she also uses her abilites to cook water for her tea (bcs i need to make my muses dumb as always)

- although she’s a (former) aerilist, as elegant she migth appear in the air or when she’s doing her monkey stuff, for some reason she is the opposite *rose vc* on the ground. also that’s probably the reason teh circus owner stopped the stealing shit from ppl thing bcs sora would always accidentally expose them--

- but also here comes my kuroko inspo where ppl actually don’t notice her bcs she makes no noise until she runs into the darkling’s favourite tree or something

- also i love superstitous muses but she’s into tarot cards

- is the worst at judging people’s character. she thinks yeva is a nice person bcs she once did a card reading for her aka (yeva: “this card says grisha suck... i mean it’s not my opinion but that’s what the card says” sora: “cool that was lit, live laugh love

idk but her 

[joleness]

hello everyone! i’m glad I actually have some free time this sunday to come on & introduce myself + jolene to all you wonderful muns!! I am very excited about this group !! just a quick little introduction my name is gabbi (she/her pronouns), i am 21 years old & my timezone is cst!!

[ cis female, she/her, danielle rose russell , twenty-one ] i can’t be sure, but i think i just saw JOLENE STEVENS drive onto the parkway. don’t they know we’re not supposed to be driving on that haunted road right now? maybe it has to do with the fact that they’re so RESPONSIBLE and STUBBORN that makes them feel CONFLICTED about everything going on. i guess we could also chalk it up to the fact that they’re always reminding me of READING IN A QUIET LIBRARY, CROSSWORD PUZZLES & A RAINY SUNDAY AFTERNOON. either way, i hope they get back safely.

FULL NAME: JOLENE MARIE STEVENS

NICKNAME: JO

AGE: TWENTY ONE

GENDER/PRONOUNS: CIS-FEMALE, SHE/HER

JOB: BARISTA AT LIFE CAFE / FREELANCE WRITER

HOMETOWN: REED, VA.

ZODIAC SIGN: CAPRICORN

when reading there is a warning for mention of death & murders 

jolene stevens was born to walter & annabelle stevens on a cold winter night on january 15, 1999. the two were young, but thrilled to have a child of their own. things were going very well for the family until one night her mother picked up left the small town to expand her horizons. turns out the thrill of being a new mother only lasted her so long. that left walter and jolene on their own figuring the world out together.

the difficult part of living with a walter is that he isn’t your average father figure. he is passionate about his work and tends to throw himself into whatever he does. he’s an inventor by nature, always coming up with new gadgets and gizmos to make the world better— but from jolene’s point of view none of his inventions ever seem to be that ground breaking. with her father being the ‘town kook’ it became jolene’s responsibility at a young age to be her own parent. she would cook dinner for them, remind walter when bills were due and keep track of his well being as though he was her child. she loved her father, but he was not the easiest to live with. she always pictured herself as belle. a wonderful but quirky father who the town seemed to sweep them both under the rug as being too different.

as she grew older though people in the town started to take notice of jolene for her talents. she was a wonderful writer and a very smart girl. they would always compare her to the mother she never knew. too big for the small town she felt stuck in. even teachers of her high school would pity such a bright girl with being left taking care of her father. 

oftentimes you will see her at the town library reading a book or writing a novel no one was ever allowed to read. her dream was to become a professional writer. whether that be on her own accord or for a large newspaper. —right now her dreams seem unattainable as she works at the local coffee shop trying to save up enough money to attend university. it was no hard task getting accepted, she had wonderful grades and plenty of recommendations. the difficulty came with the financial restraints and the guilt that came from not wanting to leave her father. although, she would never share that with anyone.

when the deaths started occurring on the parkway jolene was as concerned as any rational townsperson would be, but where her conflict of the situation started was with her father. instead of throwing himself into his quirky inventions his interest then moved to solving the mystery of who done it. walter turned their basement into a detectives dream with pin boards and biographies of the victims as he tried to piece together the puzzle. jolene was worried about her father being so invested in the crimes as she didn’t want him to get into trouble.

lately as the deaths rise her father has become particularly chaotic. accusing and questioning everyone— at one point even accusing her of being the killer. she has become concerned that her father’s behavior has turned from silly inventions to something much more serious and she’s not entirely sure what to do about it. now her dream of leaving the town and moving on with her life is moving further and further away, but her mother’s actions of picking up in the middle of the night is becoming more and more appealing.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

best friends — these are jolene’s closest friends who have stood by her through thick and thin. they are not exactly who you would expect her to be friends with, but they are a tight knight group who would do anything for each other.

new friend with a secret agenda — jolene is not one for putting herself out there, but when this friend came into her life she was pleased to find that they were a joy to be around. they were always spending time together and had no problem being at the house with her dad who seemed to oftentimes scaring people off. —but lately this friend has been more interested in her father’s theories about the case and it seems to jolene that they might have befriended her for the wrong reasons. whether this is actually the case is up to the mun!

an ex — dating in high school is always hard, but as a girl with a lot on her plate jolene found it difficult to keep it going. she had too many things to do and it was too difficult to make time for a significant other. this person might still hold feeling for her or maybe they’ve moved on to someone new but there will always be that awkward “what could have been” feeling whenever jolene sees them around the town.

coworkers — pretty self explanatory !! jolene works at the modern new coffee shop in town and works quite often. they can be work friends or maybe they dislike each other because of different work ethics! up to the mun!

romantic interest — this is someone who jolene sees around town and has her eye on. their might be a few flirtations, but no matter how hard this person tries jolene will never accept their invitation for a date.

also any other plots I am totally down for these are just the first that came to mind!! like this or dm me to plot something out with your character!!

[millliad]

Writer’s Month Day 7: Hurt/Comfort

Word Count: 691

Warnings/Tags: Modernau!Hux/Reader, being stood up at a party, long-distance relationship, based on Taylor Swift’s “The Moment I Knew,” anxiety spiraling, Rose comforts you, reader should be gender-neutral/isn’t really described (but I’m a white, cis girl so I could have unintentionally described something that pulls you out of the story - please let me know if I do!). This could be considered a continuation of this other drabble that I wrote.

Rating: General

He said he’d be here.

Your eyes always seem to find their way back to the door, eagerly waiting for Hux to come through. Your heart leaps each time that the door opens, but the person who steps through is never the one that you’re waiting for. Although you’re glad to see them because they’re your friends, they’re not who you’re really looking forward to.

Today is your birthday, and he had promised you that he would fly out to see you tonight, after his meeting. You hadn’t seen him in months, with his busy work schedule and the fact that you live so far apart from each other.

But he had said that he’d be here hours ago. At first, you had hope – he normally was chronically early, but flights always get delayed, right? Now, you’re pretty sure that he’s not going to be here.

Your friends are happy to see you, and they greet you with warm hugs and kisses on your cheeks. They compliment your outfit, telling you how great you look. You had spent the day getting ready, picking out your favorite clothes and cosmetics and decorating the party room of your apartment complex that you had booked just for this event.

You’re prepared to push down the disappointment and deal with it later, after the party.

That is, until Rose asks you where Hux is.

You know that she’s just trying to be sweet, asking about him because she remembers that you were excited that he was coming to the party.

Maybe it’s something about the way that she asks you, or that she’s been gushing to you about her new relationship lately, but it breaks the seal on the emotions that you’ve been keeping locked up inside of you. You can’t stop the tears from leaking from your eyes. You cover your mouth as you sob, turning from her and making a quick exit to the bathroom before anyone else can notice.

You’re happy for her, you really are.

You sit on the floor of the bathroom, leaning your head against the tiled wall. It’s cool in here, and you appreciate having somewhere to cry in private.

But you feel like Hux has been distant lately, and you can’t help but feel like you’ve not been the best partner – he’s so stressed, and it feels like there’s nothing that you can do about it, he just tells you not to worry about him.

But you do – you can’t stop, in fact. It doesn’t bother you so much that he can’t attend the party. But the fact that he hasn’t said anything to you since yesterday, hasn’t responded to your text messages, hasn’t even wished you happy birthday – that’s what gets to you. You worry that something terrible has happened – his plane has crashed, he’s received a ton of new work, he’s decided that he doesn’t love you anymore –

Your bathroom angst session is interrupted by the sound of knuckles rapping against the solid wood door.

Rose calls your name, asking if you are okay. You tell her that you are fine, but she insists that you aren’t and that you let her in. You stand to open the door, eyes puffy and tears streaking down your face.

She enters the bathroom and her eyebrows furrow as assesses the situation. Rose wraps her arms around you. “I’m so sorry,” she says, rubbing your back. “You can’t keep it all bottled up, you know? You have to let it out.”

And you do. You hold onto her and cry, letting out all of the sadness that you’ve kept under wraps inside of your heart.

When you’ve slowed down and run out of tears, she helps you straighten out your outfit and clean up your face.

When she’s done, you can’t even tell that you had cried in the bathroom.

“Oh, I think it’s almost time for cake,” Rose reminds you. “They want to sing happy birthday – we should go back.”

You groan, but allow her to steer you back to the party room.

You’re not enthusiastic, but at least you’re not falling apart in the bathroom anymore.

[cursebreaker-lilith]

I only posted her original profile in September, but I’ve changed some stuff and wanted to do a new drawing. Lili was pretty new to me then, and I’ve found her voice a lot more since so it only felt right to have a do over on her profile.

This is all up to the beginning of year 6.

EDIT: Some formatting changes made 5-12-21

BASICS

Name: Lilith Silvia Vesta Brooks

Nicknames: Lili, Pipsqueak, Pip

Name Meaning: Lilith references a figure from Jewish folklore, Silvia comes from her grandmother’s name and references a figure from Roman mythology, Vesta was also chosen by her grandmother and references the Roman goddess of the hearth.

Gender: Cis Female 

Pronouns: She/Her

Age: 16 (Variable depending on what year I’m writing about)

Birthday: October 19th, 1972

Zodiac: Libra

Blood Status: Half-blood

Ethnicity/Nationality: White Brit

Sexuality: Self identifies primarily with queer but is okay with being called bisexual. Is also probably on both the asexual and aromantic spectrum, but the words for them hadn’t been coined in her time period. 

Appearance

Body:

Height: 165cm / 5′5

Build: Average to stocky, hourglass shape

Eyes: A bright yellow-green, noticeably a bit big and round.

Hair: Pale blonde hair that is very thin and fine. She likes doing it up in different ways, from ponytails, to pigtails, to braids. Right before starting her 6th year, she cut her hair short and permed it on an impulse encouraged by her Muggle friends.

Skin: Pale skin that burns easily but quickly fades into a tan

Misc: Small and usually unnoticeable scars scattered across her hands and face from ice in the Ice Vault that will fade wholly with time (most already have by 6th year). Pierced ears--one in each lobe as a teenager but adds more as an adult.

Material Items:

Clothing: As a young child, she tried to keep up with mainstream Muggle fashion. She preferred lots of bright colors, stripes, gaudy jewelry, and scrunchies. Dear lord she loves scrunchies. As she got older however, she began to phase out of the bright colors and mainstream fashion into something which would soon be called grunge. Not completely grunge however as she still loves her statement earrings and scrunchies. Usually wears baggy/non form fitting clothing.

Accessories: Almost always wearing some sort of dangly and obnoxious statement earrings. Always has at least three scrunchies on her person.

In her school bag: Her wand, at least five scrunchies, school books and papers, books Rowan wants her to read, an old crochet penguin for good luck (her first attempt at crochet animals), crochet hooks and yarn, journal and papers related to Cursed Vault plans, at least three cool looking rocks she found on the ground.

Reference:

Face Claim: N/A

Voice Claim: N/A

Personality

Traits:

+  loyal, friendly, extroverted, responsible, mature, kind, adaptable, quick learner, resourceful, hopeful, courageous

+/— determined, good liar, intense, clever, intelligent, independent

— obsessive, untrusting, secretive, forceful, quick temper, angry, abrasive, single minded, rule breaker, rude, spiteful

Description:

Lili has a lot of pent up anger and a quick temper. She’s angry at her family, at authority, at the world. She’s not good at processing this anger and thus tends to lash out at people very often and often very cruelly and violently. She knows this and tries to keep in check but isn’t very good at doing so even as she ages. Because of her anger, she also tends to keep grudges for quite a while, even for stupid or petty reasons and is slow to admit she’s wrong.

In a better world, she would be known for her friendliness. Lili can be very friendly and relaxed. She talks first and makes a judgement second, trying to be as open minded as possible. She’s very casual yet polite and likes people being the same back to her.

Lili is determined in a way that tends towards the negative. Her laser focus on things tend to quickly become obsessions if someone she trusts doesn’t intervene quickly enough.

After her mother stopped being a parent towards her at a young age, Lili learned to take care of herself quickly. She’s become clever and resourceful in her steps to becoming independent. It’s left her mature and responsible for her age, but also untrusting and secretive, convinced she can do it on her own (or with Rowan only).

Lili is very loyal to those that earn her loyalty. For those she cares about, she would do anything. If you do something to lose that loyalty, expect harsh treatment after if Lili even deigns to speak to you. She’s not afraid of cutting people out of her life if they betray or anger her.

Other:

Likes: crafts (crochet, knitting, sewing), Rowan and Barnaby, scrunchies, dangly earrings, being busy, collecting things, fashion

Dislikes: Merula and Ismelda, Rakepick, Snape, most other Slytherins, people who get in her way, Dumbledore, Doctor Who after the 5th Doctor, not getting enough sleep, flying class

MBTI: ESTP

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Hogwarts

Hogwarts House: Slytherin

OWL Classes:

Astronomy: 6/10 (E)

Charms: 9/10 (O)

DADA: 9/10 (O)

Flying: 2/10 (A)

Herbology: 3/10 (A)

History of Magic: 2/10 (A)

Potions: 4/10 (A)

Transfiguration: 7/10 (E)

OWL Electives:

Ancient Runes:  9/10 (O)

Arithmancy:  6/10 (O)

Care of Magical Creatures:  6/10 (O)

NEWT Classes:

Ancient Runes: 9/10 (O)

Arithmancy: 6/10 (E)

Charms: 9/10 (O)

DADA: 9/10 (O)

Transfiguration: 7/10 (E)

Extracurriculars:

Clubs: Dueling Club (3rd-4th year), Fencing Club (2nd-5th year), Transfiguration Club (occasionally from 2nd year on)

Quidditch: N/A

Prefect or Head Boy/Girl: N/A

Best Classes:

Charms It’s the one class she’s very naturally talented at. She never needs to study much, but she barely has to try with Charms. Someday she’ll beat Ben and be the best in their year at the class.

Defense Against the Dark Arts She’s not good at this because of any professor, she’s good at this because of her excursions into the Cursed Vaults giving her practical knowledge.

Worst Classes:

Flying Listen, if people were meant to fly, then they’d have wings, or a spell letting people properly fly would be created by now. Lili will be staying on the ground, thank you very much.

Herbology She’s lived in the city her whole life and being around so many plants is strange. She doesn’t hate the class, but she does use it to catch up with her friends rather than study.

Potions She doesn’t have the patience for potions, and that’s even when she doesn’t have Snape refusing to acknowledge her existence.

Favorite Professors:

Flitwick She thinks Flitwick is great. There’s not much more to say. He’s responsible but not smothering, and still thinks well of her brother. If she ever had to pick an adult to trust, it would be Flitwick.

Kettleburn She had taken Care of Magical Creatures because Rowan had wanted a third elective and Lili didn’t want to take Muggle Studies or Divination. However, she ended up loving the class and thinks Kettleburn is hilarious. She honestly wished she could take the class NEWT level, but her schedule was already full.

Least Favorite Professors:

Snape She has a very complicated relationship with Snape. He hates her because of her brother (who he did not get along with), because she reminds him of James Potter, and because her nickname, Lili, reminds him of his lost love Lily Evans every time he hears it. Lili, of course, does not know any of this and thinks he just hates her for no reason. Jacob thought he was a Death Eater (he got that from whispers older kids who Jacob knew were definitely Death Eaters), so Lili uses that as justification to not like him.

Rakepick She never trusted her and barely liked her, even before she became a professor. Her opinion didn’t go improve any time in fifth year.

Magic

1st Wand: Blackthorn, unicorn hair, 11 3/4 in, shiny and slightly flexible

“Blackthorn, which is a very unusual wand wood, has the reputation, in my view well-merited, of being best suited to a warrior. This does not necessarily mean that its owner practises the Dark Arts (although it is undeniable that those who do so will enjoy the blackthorn wand’s prodigious power); one finds blackthorn wands among the Aurors as well as among the denizens of Azkaban.”

2nd Wand: Aspen, phoenix feather, 12 in, fairly rigid

“In my experience, aspen wand owners are generally strong-minded and determined, more likely than most to be attracted by quests and new orders; this is a wand for revolutionaries.”

Special Abilities: Natural Legilimens, Occlumency

Boggart

Form: Jacob telling her she’s useless and unwanted and that everything she’s doing is for nothing.

Riddikulus: Has not found anything yet that works

Amortentia

What they smell: the Owlery, Standard Ingredient, and something else, something she can’t figure out

What they smell like to others: Lavender, hot chocolate, campfire smoke

Patronus

Form: A goshawk. Independent and intelligent hunters who focus intently on stalking their prey.

Memory: A childhood memory of going to a fair. Jacob looked after her the entire night, and it’s one of the last times she remembers seeing both of her parents laugh.

What they see in the Mirror of Erised: Herself with her family–Jacob is there and looks like how she remembers him, and her mother and father are holding hands and smiling. As she ages, her mother and father are phased out of the image and replaced by her friends, her new family.

FAMILY

Father: David Brooks

Muggle

b. 1943

Works at an accounting firm.

In theory, he was alright with magic and the wizarding world. In practice, it unnerved him more than he could say. When his children started doing accidental magic, and when Jacob came home from Hogwarts talking about nothing but spells and magic, that was it for David. He filed for divorce in 1980 and hasn’t spoken to his ex-wife or children since. He has since married to a fellow Muggle, treating her children as his own and speaking rarely of his biological children. He doesn’t even know Jacob disappeared.

Mother: Carina Flora Brooks (nee Braddock)

Pureblood

b. 1944

Ravenclaw

Works for a wizarding travel magazine as a photographer, travels around the world frequently

She was perhaps not meant to be a mother, and would have been happier following in her brother’s shoes of travelling the world with no responsibilities. However, her mother was insisting she marry and Carina, in a fit of rebellion, decided to marry a nice Muggle she knew instead of the purebloods her mother had picked out.

Carina was never very good with either of her children, and in particular could never get along with Jacob, resorting to abuse (emotional and physical) to try to get him to behave how she wanted. Despite this, she totally shut down when Jacob disappeared, feeling like a failure. This led to her severely neglecting her daughter to wallow in her own misery day and night. It also led to an irrational hatred of Hogwarts. She refuses to read any letters sent by them and has made several subtle attempts to make Lili miss the Hogwarts Express.

Brother: Jacob Seraphinus Ulysses Brooks

Half-blood

b. March 8th, 1967

Slytherin

Currently missing.

Never able to make friends easily or keep his mouth shut, Jacob always had a hard time fitting in, so he turned to books. He preferred fiction over nonfiction, but one history book’s mention of Cursed Vaults on Hogwarts’ grounds led to a search that would dominate his, and his sister’s, life.

He was an outcast in his house and Hogwarts, besides for a few acquaintances, and instead focused on reaching his goals. He was reckless and brave (the Sorting Hat considered putting him in Gryffindor), but obsessive, secretive, and increasingly dependent on the idea of “the end justifies the means.”

Grandfather: Ambrose Braddock

Pureblood

b. 1903

Ravenclaw

Deceased

Known for being Britain’s first natural Legilimens in a century. The Braddock family is known for being a line of natural Legilimens, but none in the family had had the ability in five generations before Ambrose was born. This ended up leading to an offer of marriage from the Malfoy family who wanted the connection to this rare ability. Later realized his grandson was also a natural Legilimens, but died before he could teach Jacob more than the basics on how to control it and never realized his granddaughter also had the ability.

Died of sickness in 1975 at age 72

Grandmother: Silvia Braddock (nee Malfoy)

Pureblood

b. 1911

Slytherin

Never worked, has always been a housewife

Your typical upper class, conservative grandmother. She may not believe that strongly in pureblood mania anymore, but she still believes in things like “children should be seen, not heard,” and corporal punishment. Was in an arranged marriage to Ambrose and never really grew to love him feeling she was marrying beneath her Malfoy heritage. Fairly reclusive nowadays, only entertaining old friends for brunch and going to the occasional pureblood party.

Uncle: Victor Felinus Braddock

Pureblood wizard

b. 1940

Gryffindor

Has a different job every few months, deosn’t really needs to have one and his work ethic shows that

Considered a fun uncle by his nephew, and an annoyance by his niece. Has a lot of stories, and a slight drinking problem.  While his mother was annoyed at him for having a dalliance with a Muggle-born, she was even more furious that he refused to marry Suzie. Victor didn’t want to be tied down, and left her to raise their two daughters only appearing in their lives every few years.

Cousins: Donna and Caroline Jones

Half-bloods

b. 1960 and 1975

Both Gryffindor

Welsh

Their mother Susan Jones was a Muggle-born Sorted into Gryffindor in the same year as Victor Braddock. The two have had an on again, off again relationship since their Hogwarts years that has resulted in two daughters.

Donna was sorted into Gryffindor in 1971 (meaning she would have been roommates with Lily Evans which is a coincidence I swear) and it’s easy to see why. She’s confident, brash, and blunt. She has many problems with her father and refuses to interact with that side of the family. Works in the Department of Magical Law Enforcement for the Ministry.

Caroline is the opposite of her much older sister and was surprised to find herself in Gryffindor (Sorted there in Lili’s 3rd year). She’s timid and quiet, but with a backbone hidden underneath. She wilts at any negative tones, but is always ready to extend a hand to anyone who has hurt her, even multiple times.

Step family: Sabina Brooks, Ioan and Luca Ciobanu

Muggles

b. 1949, 1975, and 1980

Immigrants from Romania to England

After divorcing Carina, David began dating Sabina shortly after and later married her, acting as a father to her two young children. The four of them live together in London.

Pets:

Alfred An easily frightened black cat that once belonged to Jacob

Doctor Hoot A large barred owl that frequently forgets it’s an owl and not a lapdog

FRIENDS

Best Friends:

Rowan Khanna Her best friend!! She originally befriended Rowan because Rowan reminded her of her muggle friend, but it soon blossomed into a different, much closer relationship. Whenever Rowan is gone, Lili doesn’t really know what to do (”I’m going to cut all the sleeves off my robes.” “Why??” “Rowan left an hour ago and she’s like 85% of my impulse control.”) and Lili would never have made it through any of the Cursed Vaults without her. She probably also would have gotten expelled for brawling and dueling in like second year without Rowan. I’m not joking about that impulse control thing.

Barnaby Lee Lili didn’t like Barnaby at first. Even before he worked for Merula, she thought he was nothing more than a stupid jock and made fun of how Snape would pick on him in Potions. Then she actually talked to him and did a complete 180. “I’ve only known Barnaby for an hour, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and them myself.” She liked how sweet and genuine he was despite his awful upbringing. He’s always there to support her, and she’s really grown to love him for that. He once thought he had a crush on her, but it wasn’t really romantic (”The feeling was friendship but he had never experienced it before.”).

Good Friends:

Bill Weasley He’s like the big brother Jacob should’ve been. She was not thrilled to have a complete stranger helping with the Vaults, but in hindsight she’s so very glad she listened to Rowan. Lili isn’t sure she could have gotten half of what she’s done done without Bill’s help and steadfastness.

Charlie Weasley Their friendship kind of crept up on Lili. Charlie was closer friends with Ben and Barnaby, so while Lili had a passing familiarity with him before the Forest Vault, she wouldn’t have called them friends. She was surprised when she turned out to really enjoy his company when he started helping with the Cursed Vaults.

Chiara Lobosca Chiara was someone Lili tangentially knew due to people confusing them for each other (the hair color; once Chiara hits a growth spurt and Lili doesn’t people stop). Then Lili is forced to partner with Chiara in Herbology in 3rd year, and besides seeing her Herbology grade go up the slightest bit, she finds a friend in Chiara, appreciating the girl’s seemingly infinite kindness.

Friends:

Nymphadora Tonks They get along in classes, but Lili doesn’t trust Tonks with anything serious.

Liz Tuttle The two have many overlapping friends but don’t really hang out with each other.

Badeea Ali She really respects Badeea, but they just don’t have many reasons to be around each other.

Jae Kim Lili thinks he’s hilarious and very smart, but doesn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

It’s Complicated:

Ben Copper Probably the most complicated relationship here. She befriended him out of pity and continued their friendship because of his skill at Charms. He’s had a crush on her since they were 11 when she stood up for him which no one had ever done before. Then the Red Robed Wizard Reveal tm happened and Lili dropped him and ignored him, though he tried to make it up to her. 6th year only drives a deeper wedge between them as Lili can’t stand his recent behaviour. Ben finally confessing about his love for Lili in 6th year didn’t help mend anything either.

Tulip Karasu After finding out that Tulip had purposefully not told her about Jacob’s room, Lili instantly decided she was an undesirable but necessary ally. Lili does not like Tulip for most of their time at Hogwarts as she’s really pissed that someone would keep her brother’s things from her. Lili will talk to her about the Cursed Vaults, but they do not hang out and Lili does not consider her a friend. This really, really hurts Tulip’s feelings but Lili doesn’t really care. The relationship does get a bit better in 6th year, but it’s never going to be a close one. In a better world without the Vaults, they’d probably get along smashingly as while Lili isn’t a prankster, she has no problem egging them on.

Love Interests:

Penny Haywood Her first, longest, and most confusing crush. She was wary of Penny at first. Popular girls were rarely that 100% nice, but Penny truly was. She also had a nice smile and pretty hair and soft hands…. It took Lili quite a while (like four years and Bill telling her) to figure out it was a crush and then….she did absolutely nothing. She panicked and stopped talking to Penny for a while before sheepishly apologizing when Penny confronted her. They went to the Celestial Ball together, but “as friends.” That did not stop them from having a Moment that Lili interpreted completely wrongly and she assumed Penny didn’t like her romantically. Penny in fact did, and since Lili never reacted to their Moment in the proper way, Penny assumed that Lili wasn’t interested. The two continued having crushes on each other for the rest of their time at Hogwarts and remained close friends after they both graduated.

Talbott Winger Her second, less confusing, crush. Similar to Barnaby, Lili didn’t think much of Talbott at first. He was that one kid who was talented at Transfiguration and she once saw him chatting casually to an owl in the Owlery. He was weird and she ignored him. Then she was paired with him on a class assignment in 3rd year and a friendship bloomed despite Talbott’s protests. It was a casual thing at first, but then Lili helped Talbott find his mom’s necklace, and their talk under the stars about family and the past and future deepened their friendship. Having already figured out she had a crush on Penny by this time, she managed to get the signs that she now also had a crush on Talbott, which made her panic, again. However, since Talbott is even worse with emotions than her, she didn’t do anything drastic like she did with Penny. They went on one date in 6th year but that was going too fast for Talbott and they decided to stay friends until Talbott felt more comfortable being around people. Lili took this….mostly gracefully.

Diego Caplan The two met in the Dueling Club in 4th year. Diego was impressed with Lili’s skill and tried to befriend her and also maybe flirt with her a bit. Lili, who tends to gravitate towards people who are unashamedly themselves, found his over the top flirting hilarious and was instantly endeared to Diego. She really enjoyed being around him, finding his lightheartedness helped her forget some of her troubles with the Cursed Vaults, especially in 5th year. He asked her out on a date, her first one, and she agreed. She enjoyed the date, but 5th year was the peak of her obsession with the Cursed Vaults so she broke it off. They later dated again during 6th year, after Lili’s one date with Talbott.

Dormmates:

Rowan Khanna see above

Desdemona Selwyn An OC. Their entire relationship can be explained with that one text post that’s like “Bitch.” “Blocked.” “Wait unblock me I need to tell you something.” “Unblocked.” “Bitch.”

Vidalia Barrows An OC. Lili has said like two sentences to Vidalia and she plans to keep it that way. Vidalia just eats and sleeps and does whatever Desdemona says to do.

Doesn’t Interact:

Murphy McNully/Skye Parkin/Orion Amari/Erika Rath She’s not involved in Quidditch.

Andre Egwu I just can’t think of a way to work him into the plot lol They would get along somewhat well otherwise.

Enemies:

Merula Snyde Hated each other’s guts for a while. Then Lili gave up her Frog Choir spot and Merula gained a small crush (even if Lili was a total ass about giving it up). While they’ll never be friends, by the time of 5th and 6th year they’ve become reluctant allies similar to Lili and Tulip above. Lili will probably never totally befriend her, but she’s learned to be civil and that’s progress.

Ismelda Murk Lili doesn’t really like Ismelda but she considers her all bark and no bite. Ismelda hates Lili because she thinks Lili and Barnaby are gonna end up dating and is jealous.

Desdemona Selwyn An OC. See above.

Most of Slytherin House Lili has never been shy about being half Muggle and being proud of it, and in a house that still worships Voldemort, that sets her apart. The few that don’t find her being pro-Muggle distasteful don’t want to be exiles in their own dorms and avoid talking to her.

Story

Childhood:

Lili’s childhood was never that great. Her parents fought frequently over her and Jacob’s use of accidental magic, and this eventually caused them to divorce when Lili was 9. Her mother in particular was emotionally and physically abusive but Jacob spared her from the worst of it.

Jacob was always the best part of her childhood. She loved her parents, but Jacob was the person she always looked forward to seeing. When he went to Hogwarts, she was upset for weeks, and when he went missing, she was devastated (especially as he went missing the night of her birthday).

Her mother didn’t take it well. Carina was not particularly close with Jacob, but this obviously big failure of her as a parent hit her hard. She became very emotionally withdrawn from Lili and threw herself into her photography work, leaving the country, and Lili, for weeks at a time.

Lili had to become very independent very quickly after that. That, plus the fact that she didn’t have any non-Muggle friends meant she trusted very few people and lied often. Getting her Hogwarts letter was a relief and a promise of freedom

Hogwarts:

: )

see here: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1467043

Adulthood:

Lili is very distraught after graduation and leaves everyone she knows behind to travel Europe and find herself. She spends several years doing this, helping people and doing odd jobs.

Eventually, she finds that she has a talent for languages, picking up a few easily in her travels, and starts to consider possibly doing something related to language whenever she goes back to Britain.

Miscellaneous

She fuckin loves scrunchies.

Has lived in a Muggle neighbourhood her whole life.

Likes muggle TV. Grew up watching Doctor Who. Not impressed with the 6th Doctor, and glad she was away at Hogwarts during his run. Favorite Doctor is the 4th and she knit herself her own version of his scarf.

Likes collecting things! She loves cool rocks on the sidewalk, tacky tourist souvenirs, and things you find for $1 in a thrift store.

She can knit, crochet and sew. She likes making little crochet animals and giving them to friends (or just keeping them and having a plushy empire around her bed).

Loves having her photo taken and has a whole collection of photos, but hates taking photos. It reminds her of her mother.

One of her Muggle friends got her into fencing. She thought it would be useful to hone her athletic skills with, so she continued doing it when she went back to Hogwarts in the fall.

The type of person who needs to be doing something 24/7. When she doesn’t have anything to focus on, she tends to be all over the place and rather annoying.

Quieter and more complacent as a kid. it was after her family broke apart that the need to be so driven started to become a part of her personality.

Love Like You from Steven Universe is a song for her and Jacob (from Jacob’s POV)

Chameleon by Michela is a song that fits her

Tropes:

Big Brother Worship

Determinator

Family Eye Resemblance

Good is Not Nice

Hair Trigger Temper

Jerk with a Heart of Gold

Parental Neglect

[stxrrynlght]

{ cis woman, she/her } ❝ one more sip, it feels so helpful in my need for some long overdue respite ❞ huh, who’s JEANINE MASON? no, you’re mistaken, that’s actually URSULA VANE. she is a 30 year old HALF-BLOOD witch who is A RADIO HOST. she is known for being CYNICAL, MOODY, OVERCRITICAL, POSSESSIVE, and ALOOF but also INDEPENDENT, RESPONSIBLE, SKILLFUL, TRUTHFUL, and LEADING, so that must be why she always reminds me of the song REASONS I DRINK and A PILE OF CIGARETES, COMFORTABLE CLOTHES, RINGS AND BRACELETS, SOMEONE DANCING ON THEIR OWN, EARLY MORNING CRICKETS, A WALL FULL OF PAPER CUTOUTS, HALF-FINISHED JIGSAW PUZZLES AND WORN OUT COUCHES. i hear she is aligned with THE ORDER OF THE PHOENIX, so be sure to keep an eye on her. 

Being raised by parents that weren’t married and didn’t even live together became the norm for little Ursula, although her mother preferred calling her Romina, a few letters short from her mother’s own name. It’s safe to say she wasn’t planned nor expected, but she happened anyway, and after her, her siblings came along. 

It was no secret to anyone that she would have much preferred being an only child, but just the same became extremely protective of her little siblings, after whom she cared whenever their mother was too busy. With what, exactly? It never really became clear, although Ursula knew full well it was work related. Romilda worked tirelesly for her family and the least Ursula could do was ensure everything was kept from falling apart at home.

The responsibility as a second mother was only lifted from her shoulders when she left for Hogwarts where she was sorted as a Ravenclaw. Her attentions began shifting to subjects she found much more interesting than school subjects. And soon she became known as a huge flirt, not unlike her own mother, but also as a meddling girl of sorts.

By the end of her school stay, Ursula had decided to monetize the things she did best; talking people’s ears off and telling people about other people. And what better way to accomplish just that than by becoming a radio host? It took her quite a while but finally she managed to find a spot in the WWN. The only problem with that is that her bosses gave her boring tasks; weather, quick quidditch comments, lottery ticket announcements, sales being held at Hogsmeade. That stage just wasn’t meant to last, so instead she convinced someone to give her a program of her own instead of being a part of someone else’s. 

On her radio program, Ursula gives out romantic and family advice, plays popular music and every now and then has a juicy story to tell her audience. She’s received mixed critiques about it but it’s not like she ever intended to stop with that last part. Housewives and bored teenagers love her, that’s for sure. 

She doesn’t like the current climate whatsoever. Perhaps she’s shallow, perhaps she doesn’t give out the image of being someone who cares, perhaps she’s selfish, and loud, and cynica, Alright! But unfortunately Ursula has a conscience and that alone forces her to help out the good side, through whatever means they find necessary. Ah, well, it was a good what... ten, almost thirteen years without any responsibilities besides her school work? 

[holdvns]

hi friends ! i’m farah nd im coming at u live frm the pst timezone to bring u a new muse of mine. so excuse me as i ramble abt holden under the cut. like this post and i will come bother u for plots?? that or u can im me on here or on my discord (farah#1263), whatever works rlly! anyways, super stoked to be here and to get to write with u all!!!!

(TOBY WALLACE, CIS MALE) - Have you seen HOLDEN DONAHUE? HOLDEN is in HIS JUNIOR year. The PHILOSOPHY MAJOR is 21 years old & is a TAURUS. People say HE is QUICK-WITTED, DARING, IRREVERENT and DETACHED. Rumors say they’re a member of CALLOWAY SOCIETY. I heard from the gossip blog that HIS FATHER PAID OFF THE SCHOOL TO CHANGE HIS GRADES AFTER HE FAILED FOUR CLASSES LAST SEMESTER FROM NEVER SHOWING UP.  (FARAH. 22. PST. SHE/HER.)

pinterest board / tag

holden grew up between upstate new york and manhattan in an extremely wealthy family. from the outside, his family had the appearance of perfection, but underneath that facade lay years of shocking and hidden family secrets that one way or another got out into society, even if his family tried to put them down as merely rumors.

his father is a highly respected but also deeply feared business man/media magnate known for his cutthroat attitude in his business dealings and personal relationships. he had an extremely difficult childhood, having been orphaned at a young age and passed from relative to relative around europe, many of whom were not very kind to him. still, he was incredibly intelligent and wanted to make something of himself, having this belief in the american dream and wanting to move there if he ever got the chance. after attending college on a scholarship, he was able to use his connections and move to new york, where he founded his own start-up that eventually led to him building his own personal fortune.

his mother was very much a hustler. she grew up poor in new york and at an early age, learned how to use her good looks to manipulate men for the finer things in life. she had a short stint as a model before she met holden’s father, charming him enough to call it quits with his first wife. underneath her obvious beauty, however, was a fiery temper and substance abuse problem. the thing about her was that she really wasn’t made to be a wife and mother. holden’s father thought he could turn her into this perfect socialite/housewife (marrying her and then proceeding to have his older brother, cal, and holden in a very short span of time), but the task proved impossible. she was always only looking out for herself and didn’t enjoy being tied down, certainly not with kids to take care of despite the nannies his father provided. they fought constantly, and their home life was extremely unstable. it was a normal occurrence for holden to see his mother being dragged off to an institution by his father’s security guards or for his mother to use him and his brother as bait to get his father to give her money for drugs, to leave him, or sometimes just to try and get back with him.

eventually, she finally did leave, having told holden and his brother the three of them were moving to los angeles, but leaving without them and dying of a drug overdose shortly after. holden was about six at the time and thinks he has successfully hidden this entire episode from his memory, but it’s definitely something that affects him whether he likes it or not.

although his family claims this was merely just a rumor, it was often said that there was some foul play behind her death and that his father had some involvement, not wanting her to ever leave him and move on with her life. while holden deep down may admit that this could be the case, it’s never something he would really say.

at this point, his father rarely talks about his mother and when he has, he has poisoned her memory so much, holden feels like he never really had one. when he was younger, he’d often make up stories about her in his head, which were far different than who she actually was. it helped at the time, but after a while it was easier to just forget her altogether.

while his father cares deeply for his children and has provided them a life of ease and luxury, he’s certainly not innocent in all of this mess. he’s extremely manipulative and often psychologically traumatizing to them as well. he often finds his children to be lazy and ungrateful and resents the way they’ve been raised (even though it was his own doing), while he suffered from poverty and abuse in his own childhood. he often pits the two of them against each other, always trying to see who’s the stronger, smartest, who will do whatever it takes to be the best, especially because there’s always talk about who’s going to be the one to be the one who’s going to take over when he retires. it is usually said to be his older brother, because it’s no secret that he’s his father’s favorite.

because of this, holden and his brother never really got along. or so it seems. they did when they were younger, but their hatred runs so deep that the even thought of that feels like a distant reality. they’re only two years apart, but they couldn’t be more different. while his brother is a complete perfectionist and will do just about anything to please his father, holden gave up on that idea along time ago. it didn’t matter what he did, he never seemed to be able to measure up against his brother. maybe it was because he was younger, maybe it was because he was more sensitive and seemed to feel things at a deeper level, maybe it was because he wasn’t as competitive, or maybe there was no explanation why his father simply liked cal better. holden’s never seemed to figure out. he’s always felt like the screwup of the family, so eventually that’s what he became.

he started drinking and using drugs at an early age, basically trying anything to mask his pain and trauma. while his brother excelled academically and in sports in high school, holden never applied himself. he fell in with the wrong crowd and gave up his spot on the football team to run around the streets of new york and engage in all kinds of debauchery. it was common for him to disappear for days on end, spending his father’s money and racking up drug and gambling debts. obviously his father wasn’t happy about this and would constantly remind him of that, but he didn’t exactly do anything to stop him either. if this was a cry for help or attention, it didn’t exactly have the desired effect and only left holden feeling empty. 

he started dating this older hippie girl who was in college while he was a senior in high school who influenced him to want to detach from his family and money and the crowd he was running in. he kind of... took it to the extreme and started talking like timothee chalamet in lady bird lmao, even though he reeked of privilege. honestly, it was just another way to annoy his father and brother, which was always his goal at the time. they ended up breaking up because he cheated on her, but he kept some of her ideas and mindset afterwards.

after high school, he wasn’t really sure what he wanted to do. so he ran off to europe for a year and didn’t talk to anyone from home. just traveled around by himself with little money and getting into all kinds of trouble. he probably would’ve stayed longer, but one morning he came across an american newspaper while he was in greece reporting on how his father had suffered a heart attack. he rushed back to the states and luckily his father has survived, but in that moment of weakness he manipulated him into attending college. his father pulled some strings and got him into yates, and while it isn’t exactly his idea of fun, he’s taking it day by day and looking it as another way to push back actually having to enter the real world.

~ personality wise ~

acts like he hates his family, new york, and everything that comes attached with money and privilege, but completely reaps the benefits of all these things when he can. claims everything having to do with high society is vapid and that he wants more out of life.

a bit of a compulsive liar. will make up fake identities and pretend to be other people or tell people he doesn’t know some sob story about growing up poor. rlly just gets off on stuff like that and doesn’t tell the truth. like ever.

doesn’t always like people knowing how rich he is or who his father is. for those that do know, he doesn’t like to talk much about his family. probably won’t ever say a word about his mother.

has no real ambitions in life or any sort-of life plan. has switched his major at least 10 times and never goes to his classes.

very much a hedonist. likes to party and hates being alone. hooks up with too many people and finds it very difficult to be in any sort of real relationship. he’s just not reliable or faithful enough.

also goes through phases where feels like he doesn’t connect with people? or that he hates everyone?

always attracts chaos of some kind. black eyes from a fight over kissing someone’s girlfriend or owing his drug dealer money.

lives life day by day. doesn’t plan for the future. usually always drunk or high.

kind of... morally ambiguous. with the way he was raised, he doesn’t see life as black or white. it’s sort of grey. usually doesn’t do the right thing, usually doesn’t feel bad about it... but there is a heart there somewhere. he just doesn’t usually care enough to use it.

rlly tries to avoid feelings as much as possible. he’s actually quite a sensitive person, but after being constantly told that makes him weak by his father and having a robot of a brother he’s always felt ashamed by that. so he uses his vices to try and not feel things.

wanted plots

hook ups, fwbs, exes, someone he cheated on, friends, enemies, someone he owes money to, someone who knew him grew up and knows his family, someone he actually rlly cares about (romantic or platonic)...i’ll add more to this when i think of more things!

[demolover]

ive seen ur posts mentioning u have thoughts on queer perspective towards death and how mcr fit into it so. if u ever decide to share other ideas on the topic id love to read it! (i think ur really good at getting your thoughts accross) (u dont have to answer btw i just wasnt sure abt shooting a dm abt this)

it’s been so long i’m so sorry um i have a lot of thoughts idk if u still want them here’s an attempt at a short version... 

edit: changing this to under a cut cuz it’s insanely long. if u don’t feel like reading almost 1.5k words probably don’t read it.

basically i think that mortality and death are very common things for all humans to think about and make art about because we’re kinda... obsessed with and extremely afraid of death. which (i think) stems from how death is one of the few things we know is going to happen to us, and yet we can’t understand it really. we know it is the end but we cannot know anything about it because it is the end. so that intrigues us (and makes us afraid) and then u can add in how we see other people in our life die before we do... basically it all adds up to us being obsessed with understanding and defying our own mortality somehow.

we can see this theme in mcr a lot, the interplay between mortality and defiance and hope... i call it hope vs inevitability and i think it’s especially noticeable in bullets and danger days, because in the other two they’re not really fighting so much as existing side by side... i wrote in notes once that in those albums, the hope is in the inevitable...

in black parade it’s pretty much totally like this; after you die you join the black parade, and your memory will carry on. there is fear going into it, but it very much feels like an album accepting and even embracing the end, not fighting it. accepting it and embracing it with this crazy tone... come one come all to this tragic affair. wipe off that makeup, what’s in is despair... (note: i used to think that line was what sin is despair and i still wonder if that was on purpose). revenge is a bit more complex but i have always thought that beyond the hope of getting the girl back, of bringing her back to life (against the end, against death and mortality) there must also be some relief in death for the guy demo lover... if you would kill a thousand men to get your lover back from the dead, would you die to meet them there? <- maybe i’m wrong; there is still hope vs inevitability here.

in danger days and bullets, though, is where i feel like we see those things ultimately fight; in bullets we have this desperate desire to be immortal and mean something, coupled with the strong feeling that you will die with nothing. that you will die. (i have a post on this theme in the song demolition lovers). then, in danger days we see this theme come with this absolute denial of mortality (killjoys never die) coupled with this intense fear of death and being remembered wrong or not at all. and of course this culminates in them dying. (here is my post on this theme in danger days it’s kinda a mess but so is this post so whatever).

right so we’ve established mcr (and humanity in general) is obsessed with mortality we already knew that though. what does it have to do with queerness.

basically there’s a couple things.

1. the connection of both otherness and love with death (note: this also applies to a lot of minorities but queerness is what’s really applicable to mcr specifically). the extent to which mcr intertwines narratives of love and otherness with death and violence is.... a lot. we see it in every album, i believe; it’s most noticeable in bullets in drowning lessons and demo lovers, in revenge in so many songs i’m not going to try to list them, in black parade in cancer, wttbp and my way home is through you, and in danger days in save yourself, only hope for me, and scarecrow. this was just off the top of my head; there’s probably more songs with examples of this.

this is very queer (at least when done by mcr; as most of mcr is white the issues that come with things like the history of interracial marriage, etc. don’t really apply) because of how for queer people our identities and love can be deadly to us... the history of queer love and identity is obviously marked with violence against the people displaying that love and identity.

straight cis white guys don’t usually talk about death with the connection with love at the forefront, at least not that i’ve seen. every once in awhile they do, i guess, if they’re talking about grief, but otherwise, no. demo lovers is my favorite example of the connection of love with death; especially in the first couple verses, the two seem so linked. the first 2 mentions of death or the end in the song are immediately followed by “with you”... “i’d end my days with you in a hail of bullets,” and “i would drive on to the end with you.”

in the whole demo lovers arc, through bullets and revenge, the themes of death and love are so intertwined it’s impossible to untangle them. if i tried to make a post of all the times in revenge death and love are talked about in the same lyric, as if one thing, i would be screenshotting lyrics all night. of course, if we bring in gwgt theory, and start thinking about how the girl and guy demo lovers are a metaphor for gerard’s relationship with his gender, we can go way further with this too. the simultaneous love story involving these parts of himself, and intertwined violence and death. the fear present... the lyrics that talk at the same time about hurting yourself and being hurt by others... but that’s a different post, really. i’m gonna try to stay more surface level. no speculating on metaphors (today).

in black parade i think we see the connection of otherness with death a lot more than the connection with love, although they’re both still present... in danger days the concept of otherness when associated with death is super clear: killjoys defy the city and become something “other,” which is scorned and hated by BLI/nd, and they get killed for it. love is also a pretty common theme in danger days songs, often intertwined with death, though less obviously than in revenge.

2. just... the extent to which this idea of mortality and death and immortality and memory is talked about is interesting in itself i think. this obsession with our legacy and our mortality is present in a lot of stuff, not just queer stuff, but it’s just everywhere in mcr’s discography (and a lot of the subsequent groups of music related to/associated with mcr, which are also often known for being queer). they constantly talk about how they’ll die, and how they’ll die sooner rather than later, and can they live forever anyway, what does immortality mean after all, will they be remembered, what will their legacy be... etc.

memory and legacy is something i haven’t really talked about, but i think it’s also essential to the conversation. for obvious reasons queer people (and people of a lot of other minorities but i’m only talking about the queer part cuz it’s the most/the only applicable thing here) have a more complicated relationship with how we’ll be remembered and whether we’ll be remembered than cishet people do. how mcr talks about this reminds me a lot of the sappho fragment tumblr passes around ever so often... “someone will remember us / i say / even in another time.” (comparison/parallels post of mcr lyrics and that quote by @milfygerard (and added onto by me) here.)

and that brings us back around to the theme of hope vs inevitability... as i mentioned earlier, this theme isn’t necessarily totally queer on it’s own, but as with talking about memory and legacy the way mcr does, if you talk about it so much that it becomes a core theme in all of your albums it ends up feeling a lot more queer than before. hope vs inevitability in mcr’s work connects to love and death and both at once and is just everywhere. and it ends up connecting to the way a lot of queer people think about our death and our mortality and our hope. and how the future and the past are thought about in connection to these themes i think is kind of queer too — when your history is barely spoken and your present is in hiding, of course you look to the future. despite that that means looking towards the ending. and maybe you embrace that ending, because what else is there to do?

i’m very sorry. this was not short. if you have questions, or want to tell me how i’m wrong, or have your own thoughts, do not be afraid to dm me or send me asks please... fascinating topic.