#it was actually a week ago and I just forgot to post it XD
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mokulule · 7 months ago
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I am required to inform you that months ago I found some of your writing, but accidentally refreshed my dash before I could do more than like it. And my dumb ass forgot that I could find you by going through my liked posts until three days after. When it was thoroughly buried
So anyway the squeal I let out after connecting The Epic Lost Writing My Friends Are Tired Of Me Lamenting About and you both actually hurt my throat and startled all four cats sleeping on the couch around me into fleeing the room in under one (1) second leaving chaos in their paths including but not limited to: chair relocation, end table now sideways, dog chasing cats, tv mysteriously turning on, cat fight in hallway, missing tv remote discovered under previously upright end table after four months, crashing in dining room, three chairs knocked over in dining room, dining room table void of clutter, dining room floor rapidly cluttered, dining room light fixture swinging, different cat fight in kitchen, and the baby (cat raised from one week old I co-parented with my dog, not a human baby) releasing her inner husky to the detriment of every resident's eardrums like the orange cat she is
You have a great power, is what I'm getting at here (worth every hour of clean-up this'll take)
ahdgshgjlbaflbvablafjdhakdjnfb OMG, this is absolutely amazing! The picture of absolute mayhem you paint here (and it just keeps going!) I don't even, I laughed so hard I needed to go find my inhaler XD
First of all I am glad you found your remote control asjdhgfeflgjrh (sorry I am still laughing here even days after you sent this, like I have been just been laughing and smiling every time I remembered this sat in my inbox.) Secondly, I am sorry for the mess? I am very happy and flattered though that you were so excited to rediscover my writing, I hope you enjoy it still :D Thank you so much for sharing this, I think this has about made my year <3
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zundamind · 2 months ago
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wow, would you look at that! it's been a full ass year since you fucked me over! september 29th.... yeahh..... XD our fuck-you-versary! hi clifford!
in case you dont remember, the name piko might jog your mind. yeah thats me!! hellwo!! honestly you shouldve known better than to stick with your old username but hey props on you for changing it last minute! almost didnt find you for a second lolll!!
i wanted to drop in and say HEY! HELLO! HI! and give you some status updates :3
update one: i'm getting better!! no thanks to you, of course. and actually i should say we're getting better. yep! thats what happens when you suffer so bad your brain cant take suffering solo! XD
update two: while my mental health has been at an all time low ever since you fucking dropped me like a fucking ROCK, ive been getting over things lately! my clean streaks are now longer than a week! i no longer want to kms! im even making friends again!
update three: while both of the above statements are true, you still live in my mind rent free. i remember when i first stumbled across your blog a few months ago, i had a full on spiral! not anymore, though. i am STEEL, BABY! also you spinning in the mental microwave rent free is why i'm sending you this heartfelt ask!
man.... even when i try, i still find you somehow and its never intentional. like imagine scrolling the tptm tag only to be straight up jumpscared by your ex best friend's username! how embarrassing!
also i'm sorry but i have to say the reason(s) you left are sooo fucking stupid..... what, cus i was weird? come on. everyones a little weird. even a little deviantart weird. oh and because of some stupid opinions that shouldntve even mattered if you were actually a friend? get real, trey. what if i left your ass because you had a fuckin biting kink? that wouldve been funny actually. like making a sad callout post on twitter thats just "my friend left me because i wasnt vanilla enough!" XDDD
oh, and if you ever see your "stalker" again, assuming you're not thinking its me and that its actually your previous qpr or whatever the fuck, say hi! i find it funny as FUCK, since, you know, you were considering cyberstalking me at one point. and tell chaos i said hi too. i'd also mention mayu, but do you two even keep in touch anymore? probably not, considering the weird things she's done.
anyways thats the end of my relay. if you dont want these kinds of asks again, i suggest either turning asks off or just straight up deleting your tumblr and/or making another one that is NOT connected to any username youve used in the past, because in that case i'll just find your ass again lmaooo. remember! every year on this day will be the day i remind you that you are NOT allowed to stay sane X3
sincerely, your most hated, piko. (i hardly use my old blog anymore, so have fun finding my current blog! and do what you want with this ask, make a callout post, scream into the ethers, reply to it, idc.)
this should stay private but idc
i know what i did was wrong piko! i was 12-13.
dont take this as me excusing myself. i had horrible emotional regulation back then, ive healed from everything back there. you dont deserve to be called out because ur like. 14-15.
do not bring mayu or chaos into this,weve all healed and forgot abt you.
i overreacted bc of very worthless things because i was basically obsessed witj you, you were my fp, if you didnt know.
completely forgot you even existed, i havent been checking your profiles at all in months. you shouldnt either, please forget about me. you'll drive yourself crazy.,
if you think im going to "cancel" you, no im not. for your sake, please dont interact with me anymore. i apologize for how i acted over stupid things, but we were both young and idiotic. im also a system, i dont even remember half of the things you did bc of that.
move on. ive moved on, weve all moved on.
dont bother yourself with me, you dont need to.
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orphicpoieses · 6 months ago
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Life Lately
Hey there! It’s been a while since the last time I posted something.
Life was a little bit of a rollercoaster in the last few months but more on that later. If you wonder what happened to my inbox and tags: I simply forgot.
No, seriously, I have no view over the activities on here since last year summer, I guess. So I will just drop all the asks and start new.
If you already know me: welcome back to my small blog. If you don’t know who I am:
Hi. My name is Mimi. I am an aspiring writer for (dark) fantasy series and pen and paper games. Normally, I didn’t do much besides talking about my writing, but since I shifted in my day to day life to a more and more challenging and exciting schedule, I will probably turn this blog into a life diaries or something similar.
To give you a short overview over the recent events in my life, I will briefly go over them:
I had quite a pause on Project Rosary, but started again a few weeks ago. There is not much to say about this project, besides that I somehow got to meet some of my future beta readers? I now have a list for all of those people (a total list of 5 - perhaps more). I haven’t even finished draft one… I don’t know if this is a good thing or not xD
I started programming my Discord bot again! Kupla will have even more features in the future, which are currently only accessible for my close friends (Guild ID is set to our main server), but maybe, it will be available for more people in the future.
University is going quite well. I have gained a lot of new friends over the past year. I would even go over to saying I know so many people right now that I am literally overwhelmed by it to a certain point. Nevertheless, I never want to miss any one of them. Especially that one friend I am happy to call my boyfriend 💕
To be honest with you, I started writing several life updates posts but I never posted any of them. Even though so much happened in the last year and even though I could tell you so many things about all these events (organizing a huge party, being part of an official conference, publishing my first self-designed and co-written thing, new relationships, being in an official political position at university and so on and so forth), I am not sure what to write.
I don’t know if anything of this is interesting for you, since I linger in the writeblr part of tumblr.
Nothing - at least the 95% of the long list of things - is not writing related and I haven’t got the time to actually write on my own projects, even though I set myself an unofficial deadline to be done with draft 1.
Most of my time at the moment is consumed by university work and my mental health.
The truth is: my mental health is struggling at the moment to a point where my boyfriend and I agreed on changing our both schedules around, trying to become healthier in our sleep cycle, activities and overall mindset. He is way more mentally stable than I am, which is good for someone who is constantly overthinking stuff but also sometimes very frustrating.
My goal to change my daily routine is one of the most important things at the moment and by far the most present topic in my life.
I understand that this is not the content you hoped for when you saw my blog in the first place. I mean, I am originally a writing blog and people subscribe for a reason: to see exactly the content they hope to see. But at the moment, this blog is more a personal diary, instead of a blog about my projects, doing fun stuff like tag games and shoutouts.
Yes, I still love writing. Yes, I am still going to drop content about writing in the future. But this is not the only content anymore for me.
I would go on and say “drop me in the comments if you are interested in following this new journey” but obviously I will find out over interaction and follower counts.
Perhaps, I will get active again, when I have more to tell than “yay, I worked on my project for two hours but unfortunately I cannot tell you what I exactly did because I cannot risk getting rejected by an agent because I told too much”. Because my writing project is exactly that: a secret so I have a chance to get published in Germany.
Anyway, I hope I didn’t bore you to death with my little life update or scared you away that my content will be changing if I am active again.
I hope to see you soon in either the comments, reblogs or in my inbox and I wish you a very nice day.
Group hug! 💕
Let me tag you for visibility (tell me if you don’t want that in the future!)
@thetruearchmagos @enchanted-lightning-aes @yourfriendlywriter @365runesofthesystem @midnight-and-his-melodiverse @mirrorthoughts @kaatiba
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magicalyaku · 7 months ago
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I wrote this weeks ago and forgot to post it, oops. uAu March was hard with work and con preparation so I didn't read much. I thought it'd get better afterwards buuut ... it's even worse now. xD Oh well. That's for later! Here's what I read in March:
The School for Invisible Boys (The Kairos Files 1) (Shaun David Hutchinson): It's been a while since I last read something by this author. Missed it! Though, this one is middle grade, so it felt a little different. A little less strange. Like, for once, the monster is an actual one instead of just a metaphor (not that it isn't connected to one. I also wonder if that whole Catholic setting is intentional because the Catholic Church and young boys don't have the best history together …). So, yeah, I like his other stories better, but this one was pretty good as well. I really liked the main character, because while he was timid of some sort, he also was easily brave and bold when he had to (that whole "he was mean to me, so I set his project on fire" is obviously not something to encourage in real life, but it is badass and I have respect for it in a a story xD), and he was able to apologise when he realised he made a mistake. I wonder what the next volume will be about.
Gallowgate (K.R. Alexander): So apparently, 'gay boys and ghosts' is a thing I'm into. The other two series I read, Oracle of Senders and Sixteen Souls, I like better, but this one is also middle grade while the other aren't, so they're not that easy to compare. Gallowgate starts out really dark, like really dark. Poor kid. It gets more whimsical afterwards with the school being run by ghosts and a general morbid decoration of which I've never been a fan, but most kids probably eat this up. Some story decisions are a bit questionable in my eyes like when the adults tell the protagonist to tell them anything strange that happens to him, but when he does they go "oh, that's not possible, you must be imagining things" … How did they think, that would solve any problems? It is addressed in the story, so it's not too bad, but still. Other than this, it was quite fun and I wonder if there's going to be a sequel.
Skater Boy (Anthony Nerada): What can I say about this one other than I liked it? :'D It's a pretty basic story: delinquent boy falls for someone who is like his polar opposite, in this case a ballet dancer, and wants to get a grip on his life for him. But it's done well, doesn't feel stale or anything. All of the characters are nice, even if they aren't, the protagonist is likable, even if he isn't the type of person one would like to hang out with (for most of the story anyway). Friends and family are just as important as the romance part. Hm. It's probably like this: There's more to the protagonist than meets the eye, and it's the same for the whole story? Sounds simple, but there's an honest heart in it.
Icarus (K. Ancrum): By chance, here's another one with a ballet dancer. :'D This one starts out really strange. The chapters are so short, at the beginning they felt a bit disconnected. It took me a while to find my footing in this. I had to ignore all the headlines to not always get taken out of the flow with every new chapter. Which also means, I probably missed a lot of the layers of the story, that are implied by the chapter titles. But it's worth it! It's kind of a strange story, but it gets really warm (there's romance, but the friendship part is also pretty strong). It has things to say (there's intersex rep for instance, and a genetic disease (was it EDS? I don't have my copy at hand to look it up, sorry) and the writing invokes that eerie feeling throughout. If you put it in a visual medium, you'd probably have to be very careful about the framing because it's about art (among other things) and everything feels very artistic and intentional. It's good!
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cryingatships · 1 year ago
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saw ur recent BMF post abt the post credit scene and that moment takes place 2 years before the future-timeline kawi arrives at or at least that's what i think is happening. this is backed up by the fact it's the 8 year anniversary (as kawi only time travels 10 years back and forward, meaning this moment is in the in between years we don't see). i could be wrong though!
Oh, yes, that may be it! I honestly forgot that he was travelling back 10 years each time. Me and my memory issues :')
I think it's probably the last (or the second last, maybe) 'anniversary' during which Pisaeng is still in contact with Kawi cause we know that he cuts Kawi and the others off one year back. (Really hope I'm not messing up the years again. The clown hat is always firmly on lmao)
Gotta give it to Pisaeng though, he is a VERY patient guy. Imagine gifting 'anniversary' gifts to your unrequited crush each year for 8 years straight. While he's still in a committed reationship.
EDIT- I was gonna end this here and post it but then, I suddenly had a thought and went back to the ep to recheck some stuff
So, in part 3/4 of today ep ie ep 7, during the confrontation (?? can we call it that??) with Pear, Kawi says that he signed with a big company 2 years ago. That should be in the same year Pisaeng gives his 8 year 'anniversary' gift to Kawi.
But, during the gift giving, Pisaeng says that Kawi has a day for everyone and everything—a 'band anniversary' with Fluke. So, apparently, back in year 8, during the time of Pisaeng's gift-giving, Kawi's band is still doing ok.
Then, where does the company come in?
We know that the members went their separate paths after the band broke up.
But acc to available info, 2 years back the band was doing ok still together, so why would Kawi sign up in the company as a soloist? But Kawi DOES sign with the company in the same year.
Timeline clash? Cos the time's not matching up.
There could still be many possibilities tho. Suppose the entire band signed with the company TOGETHER, but then they broke up. Some members broke the contract and went their ways. Or some members are still together with the same company but are working secretly. Or, the band breaking up and Kawi signing with the company was all done within the span of a few weeks to months. Possibilities are slim but endless.
I dunno what actually happened now XD I just wrote a lot of stuff and honestly reading back, the whole thing feels fuzzy to me.
My brain feels like soup and time related sums always gave me nightmares back in hs :')
But, I do love discussing my beloved shows, so lots n lots of thanks for telling me!! Have a great day/night, and may your weekend be full of lots of rest and good bls! <333
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wayshadow · 2 years ago
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So Way is too lazy to post. I made these A WEEK or even two ago! And since I always take photos of my drawings and only send them to my best friend, he forgot to make the adjustments and post.
A family drawing of Black Pearl, Captain Caviar and who would be his beloved little girl, Shadow Nacar, I don't have a better name, maybe I'll change it but it will be later, I'm literally dying of sleep and it just occurred to me to post xD
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Some context of Shadow Nacar: When Black Pearl got pregnant (I still don't know if cookies can get pregnant, I have my doubts but let's imagine if they can until they confirm if they can or not) Caviar didn't know about it until halfway through her pregnancy, well, history has shown that Captain Caviar is used for the Oyster trade, therefore he is someone quite busy so he cannot always visit Black Pearl /Way out of context, what a novelty~/ When he found out, I plan to take her to the Republic but there was a problem, she is trapped in the Duskgloom Sea thanks to the curse for the loss of her pearl, therefore it is almost impossible for her to be taken, unless she gets her pearl back. Curiously, and not because of the script, C.Caviar knows that Oyster has a Black Pearl, and since he knows of the myths about the fact that the House of Oyster had close relations with Mermaids, he thought of a certain possibility that, perhaps, maybe , that Black Pearl may be from BP.
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The Captain had to return to the republic as soon as possible, but not before having to tell BP about his Plan, who had his doubts because he did not believe that said pearl was hers, he could never follow the trail of it so he just He had to trust his beloved. When C.Caviar returned, he asked for a session with Oyster as soon as possible, the better, once in his session, he talked about the pearl, and having to reveal what was happening, telling him from his first visit to the Duskgloom Sea, up to the present. Oyster decides to cooperate, but he cannot deliver the pearl, since it is the one that made his family stand on top and he could enter the council of elders. They decide to take the Pearl to DS in order to get BP out.
The pearl actually turns out to be BP's, so they manage to get it out successfully(It has nothing to do with the script, not at all(?), but they tell him that they can't return the pearl to him for, uh, their reasons.
Once in the republic they pass off Black Pearl as a distant family, very distant from Oyster, although they have problems with BP since he had used legs in his life, therefore, he can't walk! It took him a while to think of the plan, Shadow Nacar had already been born in the Duskgloom Sea, so even Oyster is surprised that she is not only the Mermaid, but also a small cookie fresh out of the oven(?) (Imagine that they tell you about a problem which is recent, but it turns out to take time, what a surprise, right?)
How they pass off BP as a rather distant cousin/family, Shadow Nacar would be Oyster's niece, who, throughout her life, receives education from the Oyster House, and somewhat overprotected by Black Pearl, since, When she was born, she got her own pearl like her mother, who, not wanting her to go through what she did, believes that overprotecting her and talking about the terrors outside could help, but they only caused little S.Nacar to be someone who carries of curiosity and desire for adventures like his father
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I really love Tumblr, I can make a bible out of a lot of text with no problem!! But hey, I got my much text. I will upload more drawings in a while because I have quite a few (?
Sorry for the spelling mistakes, my English is not very good, my first language is not English
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beardedhandstoadshark · 1 year ago
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When did you realize that you were actually pretty good at something and what was it besides drawing?
Uhhhh I like to think I’m pretty decent at playing notes at first sight?
There‘s this school ensemble I‘m in and whenever something changes with who plays which parts, somehow it’s always me- and it used to make sense back when I was the only teen between kids who’re just too small to hold 3/4 instruments!…but when we became 3 post-teens and 1 kid it was still mostly just me jumping across seats XD
That + running around with 12 sheets of a piece that‘s only 3 long because it’s all different parts + actually not failing that horribly when having to play Beethoven on sight at the end of the annual big concert + accidentally playing the wrong part for half the rehearsal 2 weeks ago because I straight up forgot which one I was in but not even the teacher noticing cuz she thought she just wrote it down wrong = yea maybe I‘m not that bad at sight-reading actually!
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shadowsong26x · 2 years ago
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A week or so ago, I posted a summary of a BSG fanmix I made a decade+ ago. I made two other mixes around the same time, and yeah let’s go ahead and give them the same treatment XD
This one is Heart of the Machine, and it is a (mostly) complete set of all canonical ships* involving at least one Cylon.
Full disclosure: this one, I’d found at least the tracklist awhile ago, so there weren’t any Surprises on here the way there were for Days Upon Our Knees. And...like...there are a few tracks on here that I could have done better, for various reasons, but there aren’t any that Confused me the way there were on the other mix? I more or less can figure out what I was thinking with each choice. And there are quite a few that are just. Perfect. (I particularly like tracks two, ten, twelve, and sixteen)
*So, I don’t have any of the notes involved in Constructing this mix--it was done for a fandom charity auction back in the day, i think help_japan after the earthquake?--but to the best of my recollection the rules were:
1. Canonical pairs only; meaning the couple had to have an Explicit romantic or sexual encounter On Screen.      1a. There is a pair that I apparently forgot--I haven’t gotten there in my rewatch, but I am told that this actually happened and wasn’t just made up for a TFLN blog so whoops.      1b. Presumably there was a Threshold for what counts as a ‘romantic or sexual encounter’; because there are a few I can think of that are borderline ‘was this just general flirting or could I have included it’ (and there’s another that...even if it met the threshold requirement (which I’m not sure it does) it’s. Like. I’ve built Corinne/Armistice Station Six up in my head recently but she’s not really. Uh. We don’t actually know anything about her so...yeah. but I like her and her name is Corinne in my head which is the main reason I brought it up lol)      1c. There are two others that technically count that I don’t remember being discussed; I’m not sure why Caprica/Head!Baltar was excluded (other than maybe redundancy?); the other is a Spoiler for late S4 and was doing something Very Cruel and Specific and I’m not sure I could have found a song for it anyway.      1d. There were three that were specifically excluded for squick reasons; namely Gina/Cain; Cavil/Boomer; and Cavil/Ellen.
2. The pair has to involve At Least One Cylon.      2a. Fairly self-explanatory, lol.      2b. Eleven of the twelve Cylon models are included here nobody loves Doral      2c. If we count by model, the Sixes (unsurprisingly) have the most tracks, with six (heh) total.      2d. If we count by individuals, the highest number (five tracks) is not actually a Cylon. Three guesses. The first two don’t count.
With those rules in mind, I ended up with the seventeen pairs listed below. The mix is structured in model order--the Significant Seven in number order, then the Final Five. I don’t 100% know why I ordered them the way I did, other than I think I started where I did for Alphabetical reasons but then didn’t stick with it for whatever reason. With one exception, for Cylon/Cylon pairings, I went with the lower model number. That exception made for an Excellent final track, though, so there it is. Within a model number, I went more or less chronologically in terms of when in canon the relationship starts.
...I think that covers it, lol. Lots of notes on this one XD Tracklist (complete with youtube links, as before) is behind the cut! (I should dig up the covers for these, I know I have them saved somewhere...)
1/one/tough!six - so immortal (international victim)      so this is probably the weakest on the list, mostly because...they’re a hard pair to find a song for, lol. i do think it fits, and i don’t think i could do better, but it is what it is. (also i named her vera for serenissima and the name has stuck so whenever i see her i’m like “VERA! :D :D :D” anyway i love her)
2/leoben/kara - on the street where you live (my fair lady)      tell me i’m wrong.
3/d’anna/baltar - dangerous game (jekyll and hyde)      i go back and forth on whether this one works better when it’s gender-flipped or not, but the vibe works. i do think i could do better than this for these two, but i don’t have anything specific in mind, if that makes sense?
4/d’anna/caprica - strange and beautiful (drew sarich)      yeaaaaah i cheated again on the ‘no repeating artists’ rule, like i did with the other mix. i think i did for all three mixes i made...anyway, that aside. this is another pair that’s hard to find something for, because we don’t get much that’s about them. it’s all about either the triad as a whole or the baltar/d’anna arm. that being said, i do like this song for d’anna/for what little we do get of them. (do i remember why i split the triad and picked two songs? nope! but i am glad i did; i might even--if i were doing this now--do three songs; one for each arm (other than the one accounted for Elsewhere) and then one for the triad as a whole)
5/simon/gianna - the next ten minutes (the last five years)      i love this song, and i love the...simon knows what’s coming And Yet. that whole sense of ‘for as long as this lasts’ has a Whole Different Meaning in this context and i think it’s beautiful. basically, i love them, and i think this song really fits for them.
6/caprica/baltar - measure of a man (clay aiken)      so i think this is actually one of the weaker examples on this mix. not because it doesn’t work--it does; it fits where they land at the end of the series--but because there are so many better songs for them. i don’t know why i settled on this one specifically, but i think i’d pick something else if i were doing this now.
7/gina/baltar - lithium (evanescence)      it’s hard for me to listen to this song without thinking of these two and their Extremely Fucked Up This Could Never Be A Happy Or Healthy Relationship dynamic now. not because it’s a Perfect Match necessarily, but...just...the Vibe.
8/lida/baltar - crash and burn (savage garden)      i don’t have much in the way of commentary on this one but i like it. it’s a pretty song, and it suits what’s going on in-story here.
9/boomer/chief - without you (rent)      not much to say about this one, either. but it’s a good fit for how they are in the back half of season 1, after he breaks things off.
10/athena/helo - as long as you love me (backstreet boys)      shut up it’s perfect okay
11/sweet!eight/gaeta - hallelujah (jeff buckley)      i think this works really well for the two of them (and for my best beloved most ironically named man in the universe felix gaeta in general, i think). i don’t know that there’s anything better i could pick, but i almost wish i had found something different? this song is such a heavy hitter, and i wish i’d saved it for...idk, maybe the season 4 mix i never got around to making, or a gaeta mix? ah well.
12/anders/kara - smoothie king (bowling for soup)      HOLY MOOD WHIPLASH BATMAN XD
13/anders/tory - when i’m down (chris cornell)      this is another pair that’s hard to pin down. but they’re definitely sleeping together during crossroads when sam is at his lowest and they’re being pushed towards activation and...i don’t know, it felt right? still does.
14/tory/baltar - spy (carly simon)      don’t really have all that much to say about this one either, lol. but it Works.
15/chief/cally - nothing without you (vienna teng)      this song is less Frantic and Scared and Angry than the moment it lines up with in canon, it’s more...sad. such a hard bit to watch, though, and i can’t say it doesn’t fit. ...also i know enough of the behind-the-scenes about why cally left the show that. well.
16/saul/ellen - grace is gone (dave matthews band)      SUFFER WITH ME. also, fun fact--the recording i have goes ‘take my heart/take my eyes’ (which. i’m pretty sure is taken Way more literally in this context than in the original lol). but EVERY SINGLE VERSION, whether lyrics or an actual recording, that i’ve been able to find online says ‘take my eyes/take my heart’??? and since i got my version on a burned cd and i forget who gave it to me i will Never Know the original source or why it’s different, lol. it’s definitely not because it’s a cover, i know that much for sure. his voice is Distinctive. (i do think heart-eyes flows better than eyes-heart but that’s a separate conversation)
17/saul/caprica - and so it goes (billy joel)      look, we all know this is a find-and-replace relationship. explicitly so on his end, implicit on hers (as upset as she is with the corporeal version at this point in the timeline, head!baltar is still hanging around sooooo). also it’s...just a nice song to end the mix on, i think.
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bunnywabbit2 · 2 years ago
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I posted 42,473 times in 2022
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#you’re so lovely and kind some people think you’re too quiet but you’re willing to do whatever you think is right and try to see the best i
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
why are you friends with so many homphobes
what
2 notes - Posted July 8, 2022
#4
Bunny tell me about your OCs (this is Gleam I’m just too lazy to log in dhdjdj)
omg omg ily gleam ok ok so
disclaimer these r the characters I made with my elementary school friends in 5th grade but I’ve been talking to one of those friends and we talked a lot about our little guys and I just hold so much fondness for them
we would get on our family computers each night and type out roleplay stories on google docs (legit istg we wrote like 4 books (docs) that were like 80pgs each…where is that creativity and motivation now huh!!)
also ive forgotten a lot about them </3 but thats ok!
so. theres 9 of them. yea kjdshfsfdhdsjk XD 6 'good guys' (ivy, iris, alex, jake, christa, carson) and 3 'bad guys' (justin, jade, madison)
where do i begiN
oh yea also they all have powers and fancy colored eyes bc i mean thats just the fifth grade elementary school girl experience yk
also their base characters were created back then but a lot of the more specificy stuffs like heights and headcanons (which? ig would technically be canon since its our characters? but?) were kind of all thought up like a week ago at 2am on discord <3333 also friend & i queer-ified them
so!
ivy: wasian, pan, she/they, 5'5, libra, brown hair dark green eyes, plant powers i believe..?
alex: chinese, demiro, agender & transmasc, he/any, 5'11, capricorn, black hair black eyes, prob something like shadow powers or whatever i forgot
justin: chinese, aroace, nor/mal (/j), 5'9, black hair black eyes, also prob something like shadow powers
iris: wasian, bi, she/her, 5’3, libra, dark brown hair purple eyes, light powers???
jake: cishet white man (derogatory). 6'0 but says he's 6'3, august leo. blond hair blue eyes. gym bro. i forgot powers lol
jade: east asian, lesbian w major comphet, they/fae/she, 5'7, black hair green eyes, ice powers prob
christa: southeast asian, she/her, omniro, demisexual, 5'9 (taller than justin), aries, black hair red eyes, fire powers??? mayperhaps???? forgot
carson: white boy, bi, 5'1, gemini, brown hair something eyes, something like poison powers idk
madison: hispanic, aro, she/any, 5'2, red hair brown eyes, animal powers??????
they're all like 18 ish except justin whos early 20s prob?? ivy & iris are twins, alex and justin are siblings uhhhhh
ivy and alex are in a wonderful very soft and sweet relationship <333 ivy makes alex flower crowns and alex paints her nails and does her eyeliner and <3333 its kinda prep(?) shy cottagecore girl(?) x goth yk
so in fifth grade we made this whole iris jake jade love triangle thing and i think we were giving jake too much credit back then. jade gets one of those incredibly Gender haircuts and iris has her bi awakening <3
christa and carson! are also together i believe..? mwah i love them very much <333 christa is buff and is on some sports team prob basketball or whatever and carson is just this little guy. she gives him her sports jackets to wear. the height difference my beloved. girlboss x little loser man.
but also carson had his bi awakening from jake which is. so funny to me like jake is one of those flirts with his friends and says 'no homo' except it actually made carson Feel Things and that was a dark time <3
and justin and madison are just too cool for this <333
im prob missing a few things but yea :D if you actually read this far wow lol sorry for this being so long <333
2 notes - Posted November 14, 2022
#3
for context, the ad title is 'let him in'
credit: @gleam-and-darken
2 notes - Posted May 7, 2022
#2
GUESS WHO JUST FINISHED AOC AND IS STARTING SKYWARD SWORD >:D !!!!!!!!!
3 notes - Posted January 5, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
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I HATE YOU.
3 notes - Posted September 21, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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voyeuristicvixen · 3 months ago
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Captns Log 45_ Its what you make it
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So far I have begun my quest to travel all the seas of SL, this is what ive done. A cute solo trip with Orion my lil furbaby. I discovered a few dope spots along the way, which is the most fun part of exploring the mainland. There was an actual indian temple playing recordings of old hindu stories being narrated on the land that was a vibe... and I also found a really pretty European looking beach town, and squatted at this gorgeous villa on the water for a couple days. XD
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I had a time, no one owned or bothered me either it was pretty abandoned XD I forgot I had some company also... did some fishing, and fryin.... and other things...
*Alexa, play "crepuscolo sul mare" * https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1SuUe4HC0T4
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I also ended up discovering other islands that is also lots of fun! & Places that the moles built long ago... really feels like being a explorer of lost worlds...
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DAMN to be honest this was months ago, i havent blogged in a while but I got to get my creative mojo jojo poppin , juneteeth at Meroe was poppin as always!
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FAHKDAFHJDHADJ July I was just being a homebody and my highlight was getting this poster of Mamia Orio for my room her ass clapps its a moving gif XD its on the marketplace ( I just realized she has a signed version now! ) : https://marketplace.secondlife.com/p/Mamia-Orio-Poster-Pack-Signed/26209494
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Homebody Foxey, I really will just log in once a week to pay rent and thats it, thats been my SL for a few months and a couple sexy pics here and there for proof of life XD and here we are updated, we went in for Black August , honestly put it all together last minute, I am becoming more reliable and learning about ADHD and how to tackle certain ways my brain functions lmaoo that is also helping me with the things that matter to me to show up for them. Meroe Museum is a legacy, its a time capsule for the entire black and brown diaspora. It is a place that represents unity and love and healing.
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I am so proud of myself because this year I finally did something that was put on my heart to do years ago when I first joined up with Meroe, to hold meditations on the campus. I recorded a special mediatation for ancestral healing and posted it up, it took me a lot of courage to do, which I didnt realize I needed. But it went really well and the meditation is really powerful, so much changed in my own life since I did that meditation. I was working a big ritual for ancestral healing in that week and all of it is now embedded into that recording which is now available for anyone to listen and tune into...
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Secondlife is changing, but its really how you use it that makes a difference, just like everything else in this world.... thats why nothing can be over saturated because every person has their own perception, lane, and function of being.
Its unfathomable sometimes, how vast the combinations are in this reality to create a new element.
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saheira-dreams · 10 months ago
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22/01/2024
Happy belated new year!!!
So I was abroad this holiday and basically FORGOT that Tumblr existed and that I had even started a blog which, now that I think about it, really annoys me. Like, how do I forget about something like that?
Anyway, school started a couple weeks ago and I'M WRITING MY IGCSEs THIS YEAR. I have like 8 months left which actually seems like such a short time and I'm not JUST a science student so if you put together bio + chem + physics + comp sci + HISTORY (there's an actual shit load of content there) + all that french VOCAB + those 15 poems for literature which I haven't touched since last year along with a novel, and two other plays we'll be doing this year, all for literature, I get a TON of stuff of study.
And because it's our IGCSE year, our teachers are taking things really seriously-- we've got afternoon lessons and Saturday classes. This is all really hectic and tiring but you know what?
I actually enjoy it.
I feel like, we're making valuable memories which I may think back to a decade later. Who knows where I'll be?! My friends and I try to be there for each other, make jokes, chat in between (and sometimes during) classes, pass notes and just have a good time together through the dreary lessons. Honestly, when I think back on it now, the events of today, of Saturday, of Friday last week, my heart feels...warm?
I don't know if it's like 2024 energy or something but I think I decided to better myself, for myself. I started journalling, I think. I made a pretty cover for the month and a habit tracker to track my daily goals like drinking more water, studying and reading every day etc. And honestly, I'm not doing too bad. I was pretty consistent in recording during the week and only did none of them on Sunday which is now my only weekend day so I shall forgive myself for missing Sundays.
I've been obsessed with green and stem academia more (I even edited my intro). I don't know why, green academia kind of just resonates with me and STEM academia just gives me motivation. For the longest time, I just didn't know what I wanted to do, despite taking quizzes and stuff, but finally decided that I would be a doctor or somewhere near to that. But I didn't know what kind of doctor I wanted to be, nor did I have any motivation, and STEM academia just gives me an insight into the life I may lead by pursuing medicine which gives me motivation to work hard now rather than to regret it later and get a life I will be proud of. Chaotic academia is still a part of me, no question! I'm generally chaotic so my lifestyle just has chaos integrated into it. I can't get rid of it anytime soon XD
Anyway, that was a long rant. I'll try to post more often so that my posts will be shorter and not as long as this XD
To all the students out there, good luck with your studies, exams, homework and school life in general!!
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blueberry-demon · 6 years ago
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This is my pup named Oliver, and it was his birthday, so I wanted to post some of my good pics of him :3
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asterekmess · 3 years ago
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20.000 people probably already answered this but the Sheriffs actor is named Linden Ashby. What a name to have.
I'll be real, at the time i first saw this message, nobody had given me the name yet. XD i've only seen one mention of it in the replies on the post. You're a lifesaver. Linden Ashby.
You know he played a firefighter in 'the good witch'?
Im Dying at the idea of stiles' dad being a fire chief instead of a sheriff. Imagine how much more involved/devastated stiles would be about derek's return to Beacon Hills.
"Dude, that was Derek Hale. His whole family died in a fire like 6 years ago. Dad said the flames burned so fast that most of the house's foundation is still standing. But the Smoke was insane: Dad Swears there had to be something fueling the fire, instead of the electric accident the insurance said caused it. Tara is the one who pulled his uncle out of the flames, said she couldn't believe he'd survived for so long in the heat."
Just like, all Stiles' fear abt his dad's job. Now move it from 'getting shot' to burning to death. He and Derek would both have that anxiety about the fire going.
Imagine how much more MESSED UP stiles would be after s1, after he lights peter on fire.
The fire marshall's Son flambe'd a man.
Stiles still being obsessed with police stuff, but with a Very healthy dose of acab. He gets his info similar to danny, hacking the accounts. Or just pickpocketing the bastards. Has Zero respect for cops because his dad gets in fights with them regularly about doing stupid shit.
People STILL call his dad 'sheriff' only it's an affectionate term bc they call him when they need cop-type stuff done instead of the actual police. The actual sheriff hates his guts. Noah is A-Okay with that, cus that fucker reminds him of his own dad.
And it'd highlight stiles' bad-assery with rulebreaking too. Bc we find out the only reason he got caught so damn often was bc it was his own dad catching him. His record is almost squeaky clean with the actual cops bc his dad and he both know he's going to get Shafted if he gets in trouble, so he just Cannot get caught.
He Loves outsmarting the cops bc he sees how they treat his dad and he likes proving that he's better at their jobs than they are.
Stiles being known as the Bad kid instead of getting his misbehavior buried under 'sheriff's kid'. Stiles is genuinely Feared by some people. They say he does the same exercises as the firefighters (he does but it's to be moral support for his dad). Stiles has this whole second family with like Tara and stuff, but they're all firefighters. He sleeps at the station at least once a week.
Also. Stiles as someone who can fucking pole-dance (as an exercise, Tara taught him) and he does shit like in the first episode hanging from stuff All the time bc he's got insane leg grip from climbing up and down the fire pole all the time.
I forgot what we were talking about. I need to go write this au XD
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lieutenantselnia · 2 years ago
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Finished drawing from a sketch that I posted not too long ago :) I actually had this lying around lined and coloured for weeks, but I forgot to add the pocket on her hoodie (like all the time😂) and didn't get to fix it until now because I have so much work to do for university :')
I have so little time to draw these days :/ Drawing is always one of my ways for me to feel close to Heinz, but since I barely get to do it recently I really miss him🥺 But I'm also ambitious to complete the semester with as good grades as possible, so I'll have to focus on my exams and projects for a few more weeks. Maybe I can just imagine how he'll support me during this time xD and then I can return to just drawing him as much as I want💕
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symphonyofthewrite · 4 years ago
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If These Walls Could Talk 
Freaking GORGEOUS cover art by Junki Sakuraba on Instagram and Deviantart!! Definitely go check him out!! His art is incredible, and from what I can tell he’s really nice dude. He absolutely went above and beyond with this prompt. 10/10 would commission again. (And probably will once I save up enough money XD)
The wonderful art later in the chaper is by niuan_ on instagram!!
It wasn’t made/commissioned for this fic--(though I’ve since commissioned her to make cover art for me, so stay tuned for those!)--but when I saw it I couldn’t believe it!! That’s one of my favorite images in this chapter, and I couldn’t believe another artist made a piece for the same idea independently!!
I'll put the links to their profiles either in the replies or a reblog (since tumblr is dumb about links)!!
Also, FYI, I'll be using this post as my "reblog post" meaning I'll reblog this post with the later chapters of this fic, so they're all in one place. So if you want to read more of this fic, check the reblogs on this post, chances are more chapters will be there!!
Comments and reblogs are MORE than appreciated!! If you have a spare minute you will really make my week, and motivate me to keep writing!!
Fandom: Castlevania Netflix
Summary: Vampires do not have reflections, and castles do not have hearts. But Dracula is no ordinary vampire, and Castlevania is no ordinary castle. If castles can fight, maybe they can think too.
The series, and Adrian’s childhood, told from the perspective of the castle.
Chapter Summary:
“My mother’s name was Lisa, and she was mortal…She actually showed up at his front door. She found the castle and banged the door with the pommel of her knife…She was remarkable. She beat on the door until my father let her in, and then demanded he teach her how to be a doctor.”
Chapter 1: "Lisa”
“Is this how the castle felt to you before my mother first arrived at your door?”
The castle doesn’t like children.
Well, maybe that’s too strong to say. It simply isn’t the place for them. Its existence is a signpost: leave me alone. It is not used to having company—much less a family—inside it, nor is it ready to welcome for a crying, puking, giggling thing into the world. It does not intend to be a cozy place to coddle him into adulthood.
The castle itself pierces the sky, its turrets and towers the dripping stain of the sun’s blood across the moon.
The bare walls hold no colorful tapestries for a child to enjoy, no paintings of its many inhabitants to tell of—for there was only ever one (and maybe that ought not change. It is safe to say the castle doesn’t like change). The royal red and gold carpets are more suited to kings; not designed for spit-up, mud, and scuffing. ‘Don’t play with that’ would be a motto around here; so many contraptions either easy to break, or which could break the child. The fireplaces, while almost always lit, only ever coughed warmth onto the floor before them—they provided no snug space to curl up on a winter’s day. Even the mirrors here are empty, holding nothing but a reflection of the bare walls they sit upon.
There are certain people who were seemingly born as they are; they never owned toys, never crawled on the floor, never walked with clumsy steps—their footfalls were always this calculated count—never burped on their mother’s nice shirts, and surely never had anything so dull as a childhood. They were always just…here, on the world. There was no innocence, and no losing it. So it was with Dracula.
The very thought of Dracula ever owning toys, even in some nice cottage far away from here, with a doting mother and an absent father, with a funny last name like Cronqvist, defied sense to the castle. So no, no toys here, nor any simple charts for learning; the books divulged their secrets to more mature minds. Just blood and books, gold and gears, forgotten magic means, mirrors that reflect nothing, and a pile of prayers to a good God they used to justify their ungood, and ungodly deeds.
All these things—or their absence—do not make for the picture of a baby-proof home.
The castle has grown accustomed to being cold and dark, and listening to one master alone. It’s not a quaint place lovers look on and think we’ll raise our kids here someday.
Its master isn’t the ideal father either—after all, the castle only reflected its king. Its master knows only of blood and nails, fangs and wails, words too big for a child’s mouth, and worlds too dark for a child’s heart.
Can he be soft? Can he be gentle? Can he keep those claws, which have ripped out better men’s hearts, from piercing a child’s—his child’s…how could one who killed so many have a child?—skin? He knows many spells, but is there one that can turn those screams into laughter?
He has been soft before. Once. And that is with this woman.
Many women have walked the castle’s halls: shivering, shrieking damsels at his feet; cold and calculating queens; fragile bodies on the floor, that he broke with the same regard a child does a vase that matters to someone else.
Those ordinary people who do come often have pitchforks in their mouths, and fiery words in their closed fists. Curses stacked on the end of stakes, banging like the castle is the church bell signifying their own funerals.
It is for this reason that the castle does not like outsiders, does not open its doors easily. But it cannot deny anyone entry. Unlike the humans’ doors, which find his master guilty until proven innocent.
They always came at night. At night, when the loudest sound is your own breathing. At night, when their fires echoed loudest, and their shouts burned brightest.
They came when the flowers were closed, when only the most eerie and vicious of animals played with the skins of their prey, and the moon waxed the world in cold, drunk shine. The sun could not watch them, could not show their blood-struck hands in their full glory.
She came at sunset. When the sun still glazed her deeds in sanguine auburn, but was just deciding to turn its gaze and let the kids have their fun. Not quite day, when the sun would kill things like Dracula, but not quite night, when the hours are named after witches, and lust is strongest—be it for the body, or the blood within it. Somewhere in between death and life, violence and peace.
This woman came with a knife in her hand, yes. But a knife, at least, was not a sword. It was not a pitchfork, a spear, a whip, or a stake; all weapons that signify, if the fight wasn’t there, you were bringing it with you. Not a war-starved weapon, pointing with mal-in—and -con—tent towards the castle doors and all the things inside it. Not a thirsty thing. Something that by default faced the other direction. Something that can start a fight if it wants to, but doesn’t crave it.
The golden woman came at sunset, with a knife in her hand, and looked upon this thing, this castle that others called ‘ugly’, and ‘monstrous,’ and ‘grotesque,’ looked upon it with awe, and gasped in wonder.
She knocked. She didn’t bang her fists upon the stone, didn’t ram pitchforks and assorted insults against the innocent doors, like how-dare-they protect their master.
She knocked, and the doors opened before she could raise her fist a second time. Maybe, just this once, not because they didn’t have any other choice.
The doors—foreboding, menacing, and all the other spooky -ings one can think of—opened to a world strewn in light; the demon’s castle looked brighter, more beautiful, more alive, than half the churches she’d been to.
Her footsteps were gentle against the castle’s floors. Not a slow, forced gentleness, but also not a piercing, purposeful march. There was no apprehension to her footsteps; her feet carried her as if anxious to take her to as many rooms as they could.
At first her steps were the only sound, enough to fool some into thinking they’re alone.
And it became clear both that she was not alone, and not a fool.
But when she saw the demon, she put the knife away, and used her words.
She used her words to repeat those she herself had heard: stories. But not the kind that make monstrous men run at the doors with naughts and crosses, the kind pious people buried along with all evidence that the world wasn’t made of black and white.
Not all the stories told that this place was cold and dark and full of death.
Amongst all the stories about death, there were others that said Vlad Tepes brought this castle to life with science, forbidden knowledge, and a little bit of lightning. Stories that say there is life here.
And, in exchange for proof that these life-stories true, Dracula asked for a trade, a trade that would prove the other stories true too. He gave up the killing a while ago—(the castle has been in one place a very long time)—but he was still not used to giving for free, and definitely not used to getting for free. Vampires trade in blood and names, not diamonds and declarations. Vampires trade in things they can swallow. This castle, too, had been a gaping hole set to swallow the world and everything that entered. Never once had it given.
And she dared to say, that this place, its master, should learn to give, when the humans have done nothing but take from them—or try their best to. He ought to be the one to invite her in, to ask what she would like, to dispense pleasant words and kind actions, when the humans forgot they invented hospitality, and showed no invitation for him to even enter their homes.
But she didn’t come with a mouth full of garlic, and hands full of superstition. Her feet did not drill holes in the floor with their sharp toll, they wandered the scenic route.
She was used to being cheated. Dracula and his castle were too. But that was not why she was there. She was not there for cheap tricks, or death. She wanted something real. A little bit of the life the castle has to offer.
Her defiance wasn’t that of a terrified citizen, or angry queen, either; rather the calm resolve of someone who is asking for something they know in their heart is good, and knows they will get it. The kind of person who believes there is good in everyone, and that this good will ultimately always win, and who won’t leave until they convince this good to show its face.
The castle has watched countless men and women cower at the foot of count Dracula. Some, do have a measure of god-sanctioned defiance; they come with whips and scourges to defeat him. The castle and the king are bound together in their resolve against them.
Except one. Except this woman. One human whom both master and castle found themselves reluctant to deny, cast away, or kill, maybe even…taken with.
She may be human, but she was not like the rest; she did not light the night on fire with her thirst for blood.
So maybe, just maybe, they could let one ray of sunlight slip through the cracks.
She was also not devoid of life, and maybe that was the key.
‘Devoid of life’ was an accurate portrayal of the castle. Bats flying out of blackness is a good description of a cave, and caves don’t usually come with the brochure ‘teeming with life’, or ‘great place to take your kids!’. The castle had a soul-sucking quality to it; those who entered often found themselves leaving less alive than they arrived. It took after its vampire master. Those who didn’t actually lose their lives within its walls, often remarked upon leaving that the flowers bloomed brighter, the birds sang louder, the grass was greener, and that they missed the sunlight.
Sunlight. Such a base thing; vampires don’t need the light or warmth to be happy.
Sunlight. Such a base way to die; wanting to get out of the cold and the dark.
“Is this how the castle felt to you before my mother first arrived at your door?”
Castlevania was alive once. Once Dracula set the pumps, and its heart began to beat. He turned the gears, and its lungs inhaled. He forged the lightning, and it began to think. Once the books, full of unknown knowledge, jumped off the shelves to get the vampire king’s attention. He filled the bottles and beakers, and they bubbled, as if laughing at a joke only they shared.
They were both alive, once.
That waned, with time. The gears got arthritis, the books caught pneumonia, the experiments atrophied. The castle ached before she came.
And Dracula, alone in the halls, picking up books and putting them down again without so much as a polite glance through them, because he read them all before. Dracula looking into fractured mirrors that could take him anywhere, but deciding there wasn’t anywhere he wanted to go. Dracula, looking into old mirrors that don’t reflect him—like there was never anything to reflect, nothing alive here to begin with, and there isn’t a master for this castle after all. Nothing but a grave. Dracula sitting alone in his study, staring into the fire. No one to talk to. No sound but flipping pages and crackling fires—nothing alive. Alive but dead. This castle. Its master. Undead is the proper term.
The other women who came through here reflected the castle, or else the castle took the life out of them the moment they entered. Queens with malice-stained past, and cracked, icy future in their eyes. Just as cold as the walls. Subjects, humans throwing gruesome insults, silky flattery, or fluttering pleas at his feet. Just as empty as the mirrors.
Only one refused the castle’s bite. Only one walked in looking for life, rather than death. Looking for a thing no one thought existed here. Already presumed dead. Put six feet beneath the ground. But maybe it was here all along; maybe the light hid in the castle’s corners while the dark came out to play, and she just had to coax it out of its hiding places. Maybe the bell was ringing all this time, she was the only one who came close enough to hear it; the only one who came to put flowers on the grave.
Maybe when she felt the machinery pumping she knew the rhythm was a heartbeat. Maybe when she heard the gears clanking she knew it was the sound of inhaling and exhaling. Maybe when she saw the lightning, she wondered what it was thinking. Maybe she looked at these books, these instruments, and saw what the vampire king saw once; something alive. They weren’t dead yet—un- or otherwise. Just sick, and in need of proper treatment. She was a doctor after all. Maybe her first subject was the very books she learned from.
Lisa, who looked at this blotch on the sky, with Death in its towers, and darkness splattered on its walls, and thought that’s where I’ll learn to heal people. Lisa, who gaped in amazement at the beast of a building. Lisa, who didn’t shudder upon entering. Lisa, who didn’t scream when its master touched her, but turned to him with calm resolve, and told him she’d teach him to be more human. Lisa, who’s life eclipsed the undeath in this place.
And there was a trade that occurred that day. For Dracula’s immortal knowledge, Lisa would teach him how to live a mortal life. To travel the world as a man, to walks as a man, to eat and drink, laugh and cry, as a man. Immortality for mortality. They gave each other the world, as so many lovers promise to do. Vlad would make her immortal, and Lisa would make him mortal, with no exchange blood.
(Except to create a thing with both their blood running through it.)
So maybe, after all this talk of life, it is fitting that she wants to create life inside this castle.
Fitting, maybe. Fitting for her. But the castle is not mortal yet, and wishes it could protest that it isn’t the right size, refuse to try on the idea.
Dracula is apprehensive as well, for the castle and he are used to each other, they take after each other, because the cold, and the dark, and the death, and the alone does something to you after a while; you start talking to the walls. After the cold queens and quaking colleens leave, or leave their bloodstains the floor. After the beasts and their silver-stained bullets turn back into righteous men in the sun. After he simply outlives everyone else. When all the living things hate, fear, or else betray you, when all the living things can die, and you, who are undead, cannot, it’s the lifeless things that stand firm by your side. When the day ends and the shadows come out to play, when you’re the only one left, in the end you still have the walls. And then…the walls are all you have. And if you talk to them long enough you make a sort of pact, spoken or silent, with those speechless stones: ‘you’re the only one I can trust.’
Dracula speaks to them one day, says he wonders if he can do this, be a father at all, not to mention a good one. The castle cannot reply. But something deep inside the walls wonders if it might be nice to hear Dracula laugh. It might be nice to put on some different clothes. It might be nice for someone new to listen to from time to time. It might be nice to live again.
The castle is concerned. Used to doing things one way, being one way, and only hearing one voice. But that doesn’t mean it is unwilling, that it intends to kill the child.
It never kills anything—Dracula does that. It cannot do anything on its own, and that includes change.
The castle doesn’t like change.
…But that doesn’t mean it won’t.
And if its going to change, its master must change first. They must change together.
Vampires do not have reflections. But Dracula has a castle, and that castle will be damned if it isn’t his mirror.
Reflections are simple to change; put on some makeup, some war paint, a new change of clothes, get a piercing somewhere. Simple, yes, but not easy, to change completely, because that doesn’t mean anything’s changed inside.
The castle did not come equipped for child-rearing; there are no rooms full of toys and cradles and school supplies.
So if this is to be, they must build their son’s world themselves.
Together they set aside a room for the child’s arrival. Just one, single room. And the castle too knows, from the start, this room will be different from all the rest. They will put paintings on the walls, and banners in the halls; things to interest him, to tell him of his parents, at least, even if there are few other relatives to spend Christmas with. The carpets will be darker, instead of the stringent red, and they will make their words smaller, the books easier to understand. The rest of the castle is warm in color, but cool in atmosphere. This room will be cool in color, but warm in atmosphere. The fire will always be set in its place, and they will try their best to make sure the warmth reaches him; if the fire fails, they will knit blankets; if the blankets fail they will make him tea, or warm milk with honey; and when everything else fails they will hold him. If there are tears here, scornful stares will not greet them, instead, kisses and lullabies will be behind door number three. If this room lives, it will be because of something much softer than pounding metal and lighting.
If a child is to live here, they must change that reflection. Everything Dracula’s castle appears to be, this room will be the reverse. Separate. Something… other than the castle.
This room will bottle all the laughter had in this castle. This room will be made of and for living, not the death the rest of the place is steeped in. So much so that this room will not stand for bloodshed.
Lisa brings in supplies from her town; color and cloth, boards and brushes, needle, and thread, and paper; all the things one needs to build a universe.
It is Dracula who takes the paint, who changes the color to something other than the blacks and reds of the rest of the Vampire’s world, cementing on the walls themselves You will not be dark here, my castle. You will be kind to him, Castlevania. The castle doesn’t know its master to work with his hands like a human, but Vlad is not the same within this room either—this room is part of the trade. He doesn’t use magic, or science, as if he is telling himself with every hammer that they are going to change together, the way one does when talking to the mirror.
Lisa sits in a chair and stiches together cloth and fur to make little creatures, toys for the boy to play with. Soft things, not sharp. They are reflections too, littler, simpler ones, of the creatures howling and prowling outside the castle’s walls, or scurrying within them.
But it is the ceiling that is the crowning jewel of the room. Something they paint together—splashing it onto each other’s clothes and noses.
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His parents love the stars. They often walk outside the castle walls, fingers knit into each other’s, to gaze at them. They are scholars at soul, and have charted the constellations. They want their child to be able to do the same, to watch the stars, even if he’s not outside. At the end of every day they want him to be sung to sleep by the symphony of the night.
For them, maybe, but to the castle, one of the most interesting things about this room, is the mirror. This is strange, as, while there are other mirrors in this house, they are nothing more than a silver decoration; they have no purpose here, unless they float in shards and possibility. This is an ordinary mirror. It does hold something now, however, and that’s Lisa—only giving more credence to the idea that she is the only living thing in this castle. The castle wonders if they think it will reflect the child, as if they are hoping he will take after his mother and the room.
The mirror, and the windows. In the rest of the castle, the windows are always closed, curtained, or too small to let any real light in. But here they are big, and inviting to all the wiles of the day. Dracula protested—fearing he would burn. Lisa insisted—hoping he would shine.
The mirror, the room, are empty now. The windows closed. The books and charts dormant as the rest. It is not dead, but it’s not alive either. Not even undead. Just a question. An almost.
The room lays on Frankenstein’s table; just one lightning strike—(or one child’s laugh)—away from breathing.
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casifer-is-king · 4 years ago
Text
Private Investigator
Pairing: Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales x fem!reader
Rated: T
Warnings: some language, infidelity.
A/N: This is my first piece of writing in like five years.... I'm gonna warn everyone right now that this is probably not great hahaha. But it was impossible for me to get this idea out of my head and once I started writing it just kind of kept going.... And since it's all written out now, I might as well post it. So if you read this, thank you so very much 🥺💜 This is cross posted on AO3 under my username BlondiMarie.
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You always gave your husband the benefit of the doubt. Even when all of your friends warned you about their suspicions. So, when it came down to you telling them you weren't going to confront him about anything without proof, they took it to heart and got planning.
That is how you found yourself in a crowded coffee shop during the lunch rush. Your two best friends, Ashley and Erin, sit across from you as you all wait for the Private Investigator that they had found who knows where. Supposedly, though, he was very qualified. And prompt, you noted, as the man you assumed was here to meet you walked up to your table three minutes before the appointed time.
"You must be my 12:30 meeting?" he asks."I'm Frankie Morales."
"It's nice to meet you," Ashley speaks up, then goes around introducing you all.
Frankie shakes hands with each of you before taking the empty seat next to you. In the crowded room, his chair is set close to your side and you can feel the heat of his body next to yours. He's definitely a cute guy you notice, in a rough, outdoorsy kind of way. His hair curls out from under a worn baseball cap and his facial hair is scruffy, but kept short with a patch along his jaw that doesn't seem to grow.
“So how can I help you ladies?” he asks.
“Well it's really for our friend here,” Erin states, gesturing to you. “It's her husband. We are pretty certain he's cheating on her.”
Frankie glances over at you. “Pretty certain, huh?” he asks as the waitress brings a cup of coffee over and places it in front of him. You find yourself suddenly distracted as he tears open two sugar packets with long, deft fingers, then picks up the spoon to stir it in.
Realizing that he's probably waiting for an answer, you feel yourself blush faintly. “They are pretty certain. I just want to be sure either way. I don't have any specific proof that he's cheating,” you say, finally tearing your eyes away from his hands. He's thoughtlessly twisting the spoon between his index finger and thumb. It's somehow entrancing, the way his fingers move.
“But he's definitely pretty shady,” Ashley steps in. “Suddenly he's working long hours at work, coming home late from the bars and claiming he's with his friends. Plus when is the last time he even took you out?”
The question is pointed at you, but you ignore it by looking into your tea cup instead. It had been months since the two of you had gone on a real date. It's something you both enjoyed a lot in the early years of your relationship - going out to a new restaurant every weekend and ordering three course meals just for the fun of it.
"Yeah, I see this shit all the time," he assures, saving you from having to answer. "If he's doing anything he shouldn't be, I'll find out."
Your friends and him discuss his rates and when payment is due before they rush off, both having to get back to work.
"Did you have to get going too?" Frankie asks you when it's just the two of you left at the table.
"Not yet," you reply.
"That's good." He ducks his head a little so you can't see his eyes anymore, "I was wondering if I could ask a few more questions. Like about your husband's schedule and where he likes to spend his time."
“Of course. He works at an architecture company downtown. It used to be a Monday through Friday, 8 to 5 type of job. But the past few months he's been working late, sometimes he's even going in on Saturdays. Says it's some big project and he's expecting a promotion by the end of it.”
Frankie takes note of your husband's workplace on one of the tiny napkins. When he sees that you're watching him, he ducks his eyes from view again. “Forgot my notebook,” he says sheepishly.
You crack a smile at his embarrassment, but don't say anything, not wanting him to feel uncomfortable. You continue on like nothing happened. “He goes out with his friends a lot, but he's always been that way. I stopped going with him a while ago. He said it brings their team spirit down when he always has to explain the game to me.”
“Not big into sports?” Frankie asks, and you can detect a bit of teasing in his tone.
“Not even a little bit,” you laugh openly.
Frankie makes a little bullet point on his napkin and writes, ‘X sports,’ on it. “Any specific places your husband goes to watch the games?”
“Usually Sally's, over on 7th street,” you provide.
“Yeah, I know it. They do the karaoke after the game,” Frankie states nonchalantly.
“Yes! That's why we agreed on that bar. I'm a sucker for bad karaoke,” you laugh.
“You should see my friend Pope after he gets a few drinks in him,” Frankie chuckled. “Man can't even sing when he's sober, let alone drunk off his ass.”
“Those are just the best performances, though,” you say with a smile.
“It's definitely something,” Frankie nods with a snort.
Your phone chimes an alarm, alerting you off your next meeting you need to get to. "I'm sorry, I actually do have to go now," you apologize, actually feeling sorry that you had to leave this conversation. Frankie is easy to talk to, and an attentive listener.
"Oh, right. Well maybe I could get your number? Ya know, just in case I have any other questions as I go?" Frankie asks quietly, dipping his head again and fiddling with his long-empty coffee cup.
"Of course!" You agree readily, taking his offered phone and adding your details into his contacts. "And thank you again for doing this. It may end up being nothing, but my friends are very overzealous."
"It's not a problem. Just doing my job. I'll let you know what I come up with either way," Frankie replies with a small smile.
As you walk out together, he holds the door open for you and your turn to him once you both come out onto the sidewalk. "Does it often end up ending well? For people you've looked into in the past..." you ask.
Frankie squints a little and his eyes show flecks of warm caramel in the sunshine. "Not often," he replies finally.
You nod, your heart dropping faintly. His honesty is appreciated though, so you grace him with a small smile. "Thank you again."
You don't hear from Frankie for the next few days, but you do think of him. Especially any time your husband does something that makes your gut do that little tug of dread.
It's five days later that you get a text.
Game night tonight. Did your husband happen to say if he was going out? Frankie asks.
You reply maybe a bit too quickly, of course he is. He's leaving here soon to meet up with the guys.
You feel a little less self conscious when it's barely a second later and Frankie is already typing back. Well let's hope that's where he'll actually be.
He'd never miss a game XD, you reply. Sports are like religion to those guys. So you get to just go to the bar and watch them watch the game? Sounds fun hah.
No one ever said it was a glamorous job, Frankie sends back. But it's always a perk when I can drink and watch some football while I'm at it.
You send back some laughing emojis, and set your phone down to heat up some dinner.
Your husband sweeps through the kitchen, grabbing his keys and jacket. “I'm meeting the guys now,” he says.
“Ok, have a good time,” you reply, turning to face him. He nods, pulling on a hat. “I love you.”
“You too,” he replies briskly, dropping a faint kiss on your forehead and walking out the door.
You sigh, plating your food and wandering back to the living room to watch something on TV while you ate.
Your phone flashes a notification and you look down to see Frankie had sent another text.
How have you been doing? He asks.
As well as can be expected, you text back.
Try not to stress too much. I'll let you know if I find anything out, he replies.
It makes you smile, even if you know there's no way you'll stop stressing at this point.
The weeks went by and texts from Frankie became more frequent. He'd ask a few questions about your husband, then branch off into asking about your day. Those conversations then opened up to you both telling stories about your jobs, which would lead to talking about other aspects of your life. You talked a lot about your pasts - he tells you about how he grew up, some funny and interesting stories from his time in Delta Force, and about his best friend's MMA fights.
You tell him about your family, tell him stories about all the ridiculous people you come across at your job, and do a lot of venting about your crumbling marriage and husband.
You feel bad every time you bring it up, but it's always so much easier to talk to Frankie than it is even Ashley and Erin. At least with him, each of your concerns weren't met with a look of pity and “I told you so,” retort.
The marriage has been spiraling for several months now, and maybe hiring a private investigator was the push you needed to really bring the issues to light. You noticed more often when your husband chose to spend nights out “with the guys” and when he'd go into the other room to check his phone. And when you finally point out the lack of time he spends with you anymore, he gets automatically defensive.
You felt alone in your relationship and it was starting to make you feel bitter. He was definitely hiding something, and you trusted that Frankie would find out for you.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Frankie had been working this job for a few weeks now. He'd worked a ton of infidelity investigations since he'd lost his pilot license and finally got clean. But this one was different. He wasn't sure what drew him to her, but he couldn't help but want to know her.
Was it professional to text your client every day asking her if Sally from the overnight shift left a pile of work behind for her to deal with for the fourth day in a row? Probably not. But that didn't stop him from trying to glean any little piece of information about her that he could.
He kept it friendly, though, trying not to cross farther from that line between client and something more. But she was a sweet woman, and she had seemed so quiet at that first meeting in the coffee shop. And sad. Like she didn't want to get caught up in the things her friends were saying, but somewhere deep down knew what they were saying was true.
And, dammit, Frankie always had a soft spot for sweet, sad women.
Which is why he is spending his seventh night in a row sitting in his car across the street from her husband's workplace. During their earlier conversation she had mentioned that her husband claimed he was working late tonight. But in the weeks that Frankie had been on this case, the man never worked late once.
Right on time, his target exited the building. He was not alone this time, though, having his arm around a brunette that Frankie recognized as one of his co-workers that he had gone to lunch with a couple times.
Frankie snapped a few pictures of them together, the target’s arm pulling the brunette closer than appropriate, in Frankie's opinion. They both got into his car and Frankie began to follow behind.
Just as they parked at some restaurant across town, Frankie's phone rings and Benny's name lights up the screen.
“Hey,” Frankie greets.
“Dude, where are you?” Benny asks, his voice pitched a bit higher than usual.
“I'm working,” Frankie replied, keeping a close watch as his target is sat conveniently at a window table.
“Come on, Fish, it's Friday night! Will and I are already at the bar drinking.”
Frankie checks the clock and scoffs a bit when he sees it's only 1830. “Sorry, Benny, but I have to work late tonight.”
“You make your own hours. Isn't that why you chose that damned job? So you can decide when you do and don't work. So just decide you can't work tonight and get your ass over here!” Benny all but whines. “What's the deal with this case, Fish? I thought it was a simple cheating husband. You're not usually so obsessive over these ones.”
And leave it to Benny to call him out on his abnormal behavior. “I'm gonna close this case tonight, I have a feeling. Sorry, brother, but I'll see you tomorrow afternoon for practice,” Frankie placates his best friend.
“Sure, ok man. See ya then,” Benny finally gives in.
It's another boring hour of staring at his target before they are finally on the move again. Back to what Frankie assumes is the brunette's house, where they both go inside and Frankie adjusts himself in his seat to find a comfy position for the foreseeable future.
It's another two hours later when the door finally opens and Frankie scrambles to get his camera up, keeping his head down. He hopes for a little luck and is rewarded when both parties enter the doorway and embrace with a final, passionate kiss.
Frankie's camera keeps clicking away, even as his anger continues to rise. He has to hold himself back from throwing himself out of the car and punching his target in the face. He wants to know why her husband would bother with another woman when he has her at home waiting. Wants to know why her husband would throw away everything he has with the sweet woman who was so trusting at the start of all this. But that would definitely be crossing a line, and Frankie has never felt the need to go that far before. So he reins himself and waits until the target has driven away and the brunette has closed the door behind her, before he drives home himself to develop the pictures and complete his paperwork.
Developing pictures at home can be time consuming, but Frankie usually finds comfort in the task. It's a hobby he took up to distract himself from his cravings, and the darkroom usually brings him comfort after particularly stressful days. Tonight, though, watching these images fade onto the photo paper, he is angry. He knows this news is going to crush her, regardless of her suspicions. And while this is usually the case with clients, Frankie isn't sure that he could handle it if you broke down in front of him as some women have in the past.
He's learned so much about her in the past few weeks, from her favorite color to her favorite song when she was 10, and all of these things have endeared her to him in a way no other person has before. And he's opened up to her in return; in a way he hasn't any other woman in his past. But she makes it easy.
It's late when Frankie has finished compiling the file, so he decides not to text her yet and strips down for bed and drifts off, hoping for at least a few hours of restful, dreamless sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You got a text from Frankie late the next morning, hey, dulzura. What are your plans today?
Finally my day off lol, you text back.
Think you could pencil me into your busy schedule? Say in an hour?
Frankie had yet to schedule another meeting, opting to ask any questions he had between texts about their days. With a sinking feeling, you quickly type out, definitely. How about the same café as before?
Sounds good. I'll see you then.
You got ready with a sense of dread. You knew that this meant Frankie had found something. There was that small chance that he came up with nothing in these past few weeks, but the more realistic side of you knew how this would end.
The drive to the coffee shop was short, and the parking lot was thankfully much less crowded than last time. Walking in, you spotted Frankie right away at the same table by the windows. You placed your order before heading over to the table. He was stirring a cup of coffee again, but quickly turned his whole focus toward you as you sag across from him.
“Hey, how are you doing?” Frankie asked. “Your friends couldn't make it?”
“I'm good. It's nice to see you again,” you answered. “I actually didn't tell them. I kinda wanted to find out the truth privately. I'll tell them as soon as I've processed whatever you have to tell me. I'm assuming that's why you wanted to meet? You found what we were looking for?”
Frankie's hand moves to the back of his neck as he gives a slow nod. He pulls a yellow envelope from the chair next to him and places it on the table between you. “Yeah. I have some pictures here.”
You begin to reach out, but stop short before touching the folder. You know if you look now, in the middle of this café, you'll just break down when you see the proof of your husband's affair.
“Please just tell me,” you implore, eyes looking up, but not quite reaching his.
Frankie is quiet for a moment, studying you with his chocolate eyes. Finally he lets out a short sigh and responds, “Andrew's having an affair with a coworker. Looks like it's been around five months.”
The news hits you directly in the chest. It makes it hard to breathe. Knowing it was likely that he was cheating and having picture proof of it are two different things. You feel like it shouldn't hurt this much, but can't help the way your body collapses into itself.
“I know it's not the news you wanted,” Frankie starts, but you cut him off.
“No, but it's what I needed to know. So thank you. I appreciate all the work you put into it. I'm really sorry, but Ashley just went out of town and she won't be back for two weeks. I can get Erin's half of your fee, then get the rest as soon as Ash is back.” You quickly switch to the business end of the meeting, hoping to delay having to come to terms with this new information.
Frankie looks a little whiplashed at the sudden change in topic, but catches up quickly. “It's really not a big deal. I'm not too worried about two weeks. How about we just meet up again once you all have everything together. No stress.”
His hands are fiddling with his coffee cup again, and you focus on them as one index finger absently caresses the handle of the cup, the thumb of his other hand moving up and down the opposite side of it. You're caught off guard again by the movement of his fingers. It's sensual, how his large hands and long fingers massage the warm ceramic.
You're distracted from your observation of those hands when the barista sets your to-go tea in front of you. Finally looking up again, you see Frankie's brows have pinched together, forming a little worry line between them.
“I'll get it to you as soon as possible,” you finally fall back into conversation.
“That's fine. Really, don't stress about it,” Frankie reiterates.
“Can I ask you something?” You ask softly after a brief pause.
“Of course, hermosa.”
“Why did you become a private investigator?”
The question catches Frankie off guard for a second time; you can tell by the subtle widening of his eyes followed by a brief knitting of his brows. Then he quickly hides his eyes behind the bill of his baseball cap, feigning stirring his coffee a couple times. Not used to being able to see his face when the two of you have conversations, you realized he's actually quite expressive. He must know it too, because you note his hidden eyes as something you'd seen him do the first time you met him.
“You don't have to tell me,” you extended a way out for him, noting his sudden discomfort.
“No, it's fine. Um, remember when I told you before how I moved on from being a pilot to this?” At your nod, Frankie continued on slowly, like he was forming each word in his head twice before speaking it. “Well, it was less that I moved on and more that I lost my license. Uh, addiction issues. I know how that sounds! But I swear I'm clean now and -”
You can sense Frankie spiraling, so you impulsively reach out and place one of your hands on his large one. “You don't have to plead your case with me, Frankie. I'm not judging you.”
Frankie freezes momentarily, then relaxes. You feel one of his long fingers twitch on the tabletop under yours and quickly remove your hand. There's a little sigh from him before he continues, “well, anyway, this was kinda just something that fell in my lap. My friend, Ironhead, works with enlisted still and heard it's pretty easy to get into if you have the background and patience for sittin’ around and waiting. Well, I had the experience with my past in Delta Force, figured the patients would come along as I go. Never did like surveillance gigs.”
The last sentence seems like an afterthought, but you catch the mild disdain in his voice and it makes you smile to see the man in front of you sounding so petulant. “Ok, but Ironhead is an interesting name,” you comment.
Frankie huffed a laugh. “His call-sign actually. Most of us had one on my squad.”
“Oh really? And what was yours?”
“Catfish,” Frankie responds immediately.
“Catfish?” You repeat. “Where did that one come from?” you laugh a little bit.
“And that's a story for a different day,” Frankie responds with a laugh of his own.
After another small pause, your eyes drift back down to the inconspicuous envelope sitting on the table in front of you. With another small smile and a nod, you reach for the envelope. “I better get going. Lots of errands to get through on my day off.” It's a lie, but you figure a swift exit is necessary in this moment.
Frankie nods, then shifts his hat to run a hand through his already messy curls. Hat back in place, he stands and gestures that he'll walk you out.
Back outside, in the bright afternoon sun, Frankie looks down at you as he walks you all the way to your car. His eyes are caramel again, but they hold a bit of something akin to sadness in them. He drops his head, those eyes disappearing behind the bill of his cap, and slides his hands into his pockets, shoulders curving inward. “I really am sorry,” he begins. “I had hoped it would be different this time. You deserve better than some cabrón who can't see that he already has something great right in front of him.”
Frankie sounds so sincere that it stops you short. You look up at him as he peeks from under his hat. His mouth is twisted into a frown under his mustache. And that's all it takes for your eyes to begin to fill with tears.
In an instant, Frankie's arms are around you. He doesn't hesitate to pull you into a loose hug. One you could easily step away from if you had the care to do so. Instead, you step forward and accept the comfort. In a second, his arms close around you tighter and you're wrapped in his warmth, face pressed into his brown jacket. Trying not to fall apart right here in the parking lot, you catalog how his arms feel around you, and how warm his chest is.
His jacket smells like an auto garage, faintly like oil, but his shirt underneath smells woodsy - probably whatever cologne he sprayed on this morning - and, underneath that, clean like fresh linen. It's a comforting scent, and you breathe it in for a second longer than probably necessary before you finally lean back. He drops his arms immediately and takes half a step back.
“I am so sorry,” you apologize instantly.
“No, don't be. You have no reason to be. Just, um, get home safe ok?” That worry line is present between his eyes again. “Text me when you get home.”
“I'll be ok,” you assure him. You climb into your car and allow him to close the door gently for you. He steps back and gives a tiny wave before he turns and walks over to his own truck.
The drive home is a bit of a blur. You call Erin and Ashley on the way to tell them the news. Erin is instantly in her car and on her way over. “We are gonna change the locks and have ourselves a movie night,” she proclaims.
Ashley frets over not being there, but you assure her you're okay and she should enjoy her vacation. You only called because she'd freak if you told Erin before her.
Erin gets to your house 30 minutes later with a box of cheap wine and a bag full of snacks. You talk her out of changing the locks, but it doesn't matter either way because when you text Andrew to tell him you're having a girls night he tells you he's going to be out late anyway and not to wait up.
Your heart drops the way it always does when you suspect a lie. This time, though, it's not just speculation. You have the proof right in front of you, in an unopened manila envelope partially covered in chip bags.
“So is that them?” Erin speaks, noticing your gaze on the offending envelope.
“I guess so. Pictures and proof of my husband's affair with some front desk girl at his office.” Your tone is mild, but you feel a pressure building behind your eyes once more and that crushing weight settling over your sternum.
“Have you looked yet?” Erin asked.
“Nope.”
“Are you gonna?”
“We can open them together,” you suggest.
But before she can answer, your phone beeps to alert you that you got a new text message.
Hey, bonita, is everything ok? You never texted me… You safe?
His words bring a small smile to your face. Frankie always has a way of making you feel like he truly cares. Checking in often, but never overstepping into being overbearing. It's a warm welcome compared to the icy breeze of you and your husband's cohabitation of the same home, but never really living together.
You type out, yes. Sorry. Erin insisted on a girls night, and hit send.
That's good. Did she bring the salsa verde doritos?
Your smile grows at the mention of your favorite chips. Of course he'd remember something as silly as that. Frankie had a knack for remembering little details. Things you sometimes even forgot to had ever mentioned he would bring up weeks later in a random conversation. It's probably just a Frankie Morales thing, but it still always made you feel just a little special that he remembered such details.
“What has you suddenly shining like the sun?” Erin questions with a raised eyebrow.
“Nothing,” you know you're blushing, but you try to play it cool. “Just Frankie checking in. Making sure you're taking care of me.”
“Um, of course I'm taking care of you! Who else is gonna do it?” Erin jokes, pushing your shoulder teasingly. “Unless Mr. Morales was trying to volunteer for the job?”
“He's just being kind,” you roll your eyes at Erin's implication. “He's been very supportive through this whole thing.”
“Supportive, huh? And what kind of support might he be offering?” In a swift motion your phone is suddenly in your best friends hands and she's danced off to the other side of the room. Ignoring your protests and attempts to claim back your property, she starts swiping through weeks of conversation between you and Frankie. “Holy shit! Have you two even stopped talking since you met?”
“Come on, Erin,” you beg, “he’s just been asking for more information for his investigation and making sure I'm okay.”
“Two days ago you told him about the goldfish you got in college that died within the week. Was that pertinent information to his investigation?”
Seizing an opportunity, you snatched your phone back, clutching it to your chest. “Shouldn't you be trying to cheer me up?”
“Looks like your new bestie Frankie should be here instead,” she snarks with a raised eyebrow.
“Oh shut it and pour me some wine,” you reply with an exaggerated eye roll.
While your friend is busy you quickly type out a response to Frankie. She's pretty much the worst. Brought bbq instead even though she knows I hate them.
Frankie's reply is quick, or maybe that's why she brought them. So she wouldn't have to share with you, avara.
I don't know what you just called me, but I know I'm offended.
Frankie's reply is a long string of laughing emojis.
With the photos forgotten, you let Erin put on some 80’s movie and tried your best to enjoy the night. The envelope would still be there tomorrow, so for tonight you just relax.
It will probably be the last time you'll be able to in a while anyway.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Frankie hasn't heard from her in a few days. She doesn't text as often and it doesn't feel like his place to bother her.
Today, though, he woke up late after being out late on a surveillance job to a text from her. I'm kicking him out. I can't stand to live here with him anymore. I just want him gone and out of my life.
Squinting down at the bright screen if his phone, Frankie replies, is there anything I can do for you, bonita?
Recommend me a great divorce lawyer? Is her response. He knows it's sarcasm, but he shoots her a list of a few lawyers he knows of and trusts anyway.
Frankie was glad she wasn't going to stick around with the bastard. He'd seen that enough times to know it never works out anyway, and always makes things worse in the end.
You're amazing Frankie. Thank you for everything. I also have your payment in full btw. Do you have time this weekend to meet and grab it?
You really don't need to thank me, dulzura. I just want to help. This Sunday is good for me. At the café?
Her reply takes a little longer this time, so Frankie finally drags himself out of bed. A quick look at the time tells him he barely has time for a shower before he has to meet Ironhead and Benny for their planned fishing trip. Once Frankie is back, she had finally replied with a simple, yes.
She had rarely been short in her texts before, and it made Frankie's stomach sink a little. Shooting off a quick, let me know if there's anything you need, he pockets the phone and heads out.
A few more days pass with minimal texts. Frankie makes a point to text at least once a day. Maybe it's intrusive, but she never complains about it. And, if he's honest with himself, he misses her too much to stop now.
He realizes that she has become a fixture in his life. Going from texting multiple times throughout the day to barely a good morning text over his morning coffee makes him twitchy and he feels like he's always wondering what she's doing.
Sunday finally comes and Frankie is at the café ten minutes early, ready to finally see her in person. Ready to hold a conversation with her, even if only for a moment. But the ten minutes pass, then another ten and his leg starts to bounce under the table. She's never been late before, and Frankie checks his phone for a 20th time to make sure she hasn't texted to tell him she's had a change of plans. He decides to shoot her a text himself to make sure she didn't forget about their meeting.
Twenty more minutes with no response to his text and Frankie is back in his truck. He's already talked himself out of driving to her house and just knocking on the door several times. But as his truck rumbles to life and he exits the parking lot, he ends up turning left instead of right. Going to her house would be viewed as crossing some line in Frankie's eyes. He's never gone to a clients home without invitation before. Generally it's best to go about as if you don't even have that information, just to keep people from getting creeped out.
Frankie justifies his actions now by telling himself he just needs to see that she's okay. That her not showing up is abnormal and thus deserving of investigation.
When he pulls up to the curb across from her house, he notes the two cars in the driveway. His heart drops as he sees that one of them is her husband’s, parked neatly behind hers. Frankie knows she had told him she was kicking Andrew out, but his heart drops as he realizes maybe she had reconciled with him and he moved back. Frankie wonders if that's why she had been so distant lately.
He's about to just pull away when he notices the front door open and there she is. She has her arms full of boxes which she unceremoniously drops onto the sidewalk outside. She looks frazzled, but unharmed, Frankie takes a mental note. But she's yelling back into the house, her face red with anger.
Andrew shows himself in that moment, coming outside to scream something in her face. In the next moment, he's grabbing her roughly by the arm and trying to force her back into the house.
Frankie is out of his truck before he really has time to think. He's across the street and reaching them with quick, efficient steps in only a moment, which causes a pause in the fighting for a second. Frankie takes advantage of their confusion to gently pull her away from Andrew's loosened grip and moving her so that he is between the fighting couple.
Andrew, for his part, still has a look of surprise that has rendered him frozen in his spot. Whether that's from the way Frankie had barged into the situation or the pure anger that is radiating off Frankie's body, it's hard to say. But it gives Frankie the window he needs to pull back his fist and firmly plant it into Andrew's nose. Frankie hears the snap and feels the familiar give of a nose breaking under his knuckles.
“Get the fuck out of here,” he growls. “And I suggest not coming back around. Don't come near her, don't call her, don't even think about her.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Once Andrew has run off, finally taking the remainder of his belongings with him, you're left alone with an angry Frankie, his fists still clenched and his shoulders tense.
Honestly, he's sexy as hell and you definitely notice. Anybody would be blind not to, you think to yourself.
You usher him inside, through to your kitchen, and pour two glasses of whiskey, sliding one over to him.
“I'm sorry I barged in,” Frankie apologizes after he takes a large gulp of his drink. “I didn't hear from you today and wanted to make sure you were okay.”
“Shit, your money! I am so sorry.”
“It's fine, hermosa. I'm not worried about the money. I was worried about you.”
His declaration freezes both of you for a moment, before you lift your own cup to your lips and take a sizable sip.
“He was supposed to come by while I was out today, but he showed up early. I guess he's been trying to get ahold of me,” you finally break the silence.
“You guess?” Frankie repeats back.
“Well, I blocked his number cuz I got tired of his constant calls and texts. He thinks I'm being irrational and we should work this out. But I've also heard that he's been staying with his side piece ever since I kicked him out, so….”
Frankie shoots back the rest of his alcohol. “I can get you paperwork for a restraining order,” he offers.
You smile at that because of course Frankie would offer you more help. “I think you already did enough for me,” you reply.
Frankie's hand goes to the back of his neck and his head dips low, “I shouldn't have hit him. That's just gonna cause you more trouble.”
“Don't worry about that,” you chastise gently. “He got what was coming to him and he knows it. It's just that, you have done a lot for me in general these past few weeks. A lot more than I think I can pay you back for.” Speaking of which, you turn to your purse on the counter, digging through it to pull out the check written out to Frankie.
“Maybe you can pay me back with dinner,” Frankie aims for nonchalants.
It draws a breathy laugh from your throat. “It would take a lot of dinners to cover your fee.”
“Well, we could start with one and see where it goes from there.”
✨✨Part 2✨✨
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