#liSTEN i know im only outlining bUT :( im so proud of myself

[floralbfs]

honestly gdi i shouldve written bnha from the very beginning

[strawberrycamel]

Fic Writer Review

tagged by: @aj-itated <3

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 30!

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? 46,254 words

3. How many fandoms have you written for and what are they? based on my Ao3 and my old ff.net account: 3 - Fairy Tail, BNHA, DP (though I haven't written for Fairy Tail or bnha in years)

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos? in order, that would be How to Take Out a Ghost by TooFineFoley, Bad Luck Tuck: The Sequel, ignorance is your new best friend, What Could Have Been, and, surprisingly, A Connoisseur of Fine Art (all DP or DP crossover fics)

5. Which of your fic do you want more attention for? both they're siblings, your honor and Big Boy Tucker. i can't choose, they both need love

6. Do you respond to comments, why or why not? i used to respond to them as often as I could at the start, but i kinda slacked off sometime around the beginning of summer classes. I used to respond to them because they made me really happy and i wanted to let the commenters know I did actually read it and am very grateful for their comments, but after a while it became... idk, draining? I felt bad about leaving the same response to each commenter and got caught up in my own head so I just kinda,, stopped all together. I wanna start responding again at some point, but uh, probably not anytime soon.

7. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

oh definitely One More Time; I think that's the only fic I've written without some kind of happy ending (anything in the Not Your Son series doesn't count since it's not finished yet :3) and I can't tell you how much it pained me not to make it happy. Don't get me wrong, I loved writing that for going angst week but hole-y shit did it fuck me up

8. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you’ve written? I do write crossovers! The craziest, I think, is my Strange vs. Work: Wife Swap AU, it's not done because I'm seriously stumped for it right now, but it's essentially a DP Marvel crossover where Clockwork and Dr. Strange are forced by a TV host ghost to switch bodies and mentor the other person's 'apprentice'. Peter and Danny have to help them get adjusted to their new environments/bodies and they all have to figure out how to turn things back to normal. This whole series is meant to be based off the show 'Wife Swap'. I have fun making Stephen suffer >:)

9. Have you ever received hate on a fic? not that i can remember? like i think it was more grammar and dialogue punctuation nitpicking on my old ff.net fics, never hate

10. Do you write smut? if so what kind? not really, but i have a singular wip that im working on that's definitely spicy

11. Have you ever had a fic translated? nope

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before? no? (i was working on something a while ago but we havent finished so, I'm going with no)

13. What’s your all time favorite ship? i don't think I really have one. Usually I just read whichever fics have cool summaries or tags and just dive right in, ships be damned. Lately I've been reading a few TimKon fics and I've been thinking about Dark Ages, UFS, and Gray Ghost stuff a lot over the summer

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? oh, oh god. I'm going to say it and I'm going to feel real shitty about it because it's such a good fucking concept, but I can't bring myself to write anything more than what I already have written and all the notes I just randomly add onto it every once in a while. It even has a title: "Ectoplasmic Pudding".

It's a DP DC crossover fic wip and the plot is about Danny being called by Batman to help with a kidnapping case he suspects to involve ghosts; he needs Danny's expertise and help to capture the ghost. Danny agrees and he meets Batman and Robin (Dick Grayson) on the roof of the police station (after dropping face first onto it because he got blinded by the bat signal). They go by Batmobile and arrive at the scene of the crime where Danny confirms a ghost is involved. A bunch of different scenes of Danny and Robin having a blast while Batman's trying his best to stay on task and then, eventually, they find a warehouse where the box ghost is interrogating a bored looking Mr. Trand, the victim, about some fancy box commissioned by Vlad.

Danny figures out this guy is Bertrand in disguise and since Bertrand's essentially on vacation, they both agree to lie about how they know each other. And then I got stuck around here, but I imagine it just ends up being a series of dumb events where Batman, Robin, and Danny have to 'protect' Bertrand until they catch Boxy and throw him back into the Ghost Zone while the disguised ghost tries to make the most of the rest of his vacation.

Batman and Robin definitely don't believe whatever lie Danny came up with to explain how he knows Mr. Trand, but they go along with it until it's revealed in probably the worst way possible and leads to both of them trying to take the former kidnapping victim to the GIW while also trying to keep Danny from stopping them and barely listening to a word he says (maybe they think he's being threatened somehow or being controlled or smth, idk). Absolutely no clue how that whole fight goes, but in the end Danny kicks Box Ghost into the Zone and Bertrand is told very explicitly never to bring Spectra to Gotham.

15. What are your writing strengths? evoking emotion in my writing? yeah i'm going with that

16. What are your writing weaknesses? planning out plot ahead of time. I can write outlines and write a bunch of notes about what i want to include, that's not the problem. My problem is that all my motivation to write just drains away the moment I have a somewhat concrete plot planned out for a fic- this applies to one-shots and longfics exactly the same. And past that, sometimes I'll make one change to the planned plot and feel like tossing the whole thing out the window and going freehand without the 'constraints' of an outline or anything ..........

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? try not to offend anybody? like, look at good examples of how others have done it and do a lot of research and stuff. Also, be aware that not everything will translate perfectly from the original language you wrote the fic in and whatever language you're translating it to.

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for? Fairy Tail

19. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written? Hellbent. A few others come close, but I seriously cannot express the joy i felt writing that first chapter (and when I'm done my minibang fic, I literally cannot wait to get back to it)

20. What fic are you most proud of? that's a tough one, there are a bunch i fucking adore but i think it's tied between The Big Dipper and ignorance is your new best friend

Tagging: @guardianrex, @shinygoldstar, @cleanlenins, @princessfanonanona, and @ghost-pasta!

[anthonyed]

spent an hour crafting comment for a long winter (1/3 nec) and i still feel it's inadequate. dunno if i was expressing my love or reviewing or wtf i was doing but here (because ive just decided to flaunt my affection for this story publicly and shamelessly).

Hello, let me begin with a solid thank you, for writing this trilogy. For all the effort, time, sacrifices, pain, everything and all really.

That being said, I'm going to lay it out here so we're clear; I've fallen in love with this work of art. (I can't very well say it's a story knowing there are poetry woven within).

Allow me to point out exactly where I lost my heart: 1954. Everything leading to "He listens as Watkins, his voice shaking, calls it in. There’s no trace of the Soviet left. The wind screams." had me so captivated, word to word, and I am traditionally not a fan of long paragraphs (they make me itchy, my own physical default which I certainly am not proud of), but I was so enthralled that I didn't even realise I was devouring them. And at the end, when the entire action sequence is concluded by "The wind screams", I put down my phone which I was reading from and I inhaled.

I remember thinking, in that instance, very clearly to myself that, this is good. This is very promising and I was excited for it. My first reaction. Then I let that feeling sit in there and stir for a good half an hour while I distract myself with something else, trying to shake that excitement off, thinking it would pass but boy, was I wrong. 30 minutes to an hour and no, it did not pass. Breathlessly I realised, I've fallen in love.

With that realisation, I crawled back to where I paused and continued. (Two days later, after much introspection, I think this is the point when I became emotionally invested in this work. Another tid bit about me, I'm not a big stucky shipper, or steggy. I don't flirt with these pairings' works nor am I in any way biased towards Steve Rogers (note: it's true. im emotionally more compromised when it comes to tony stark). I feel the need to point this out because you have to know, I'm not marvelling at how well you've grasped the characters or justifying them. I'm marvelling at the writing, the plot outlining, the research and all the work that went in here. I'm marvelling at how cleverly you have inserted teasers for forthcoming events and instilled traditions. I'm marvelling at how you've emotionally gripped a reader; the way the story began, introducing our protagonist and then with that gripping description of the action sequence, you've got the readers emotionally invested in this story).

One thing I keep telling myself is how much of a good grip the writers have gotten in telling this story. You have a good grasp on the technicality of writing; when to introduce something, what good event should follow a bad event, how to transition and how to capture a reader, both attention and emotion.

Let's talk about the pattern of this story and how it carved out the curves for our protagonists shall we?

You start with a character, introducing him as a national icon and a war hero and he's wedded. Seems like a happy beginning, but it quickly follows with an event of his nightmare. He has struggles; rotting guilt which he cannot pry himself from but he has a support. His wife is good love and support and they're in love. He has a routine and a kid, and his wife shares trade secrets with him (shows that even if he's sort of retired from active duty, mentally he still isn't): he has somewhat of a stability and comfort in his life but he's still missing something which he seeks out in the form of field work later on (going on a mission while he has a kid? he very well knows the risk but he was willing because he has all these but they're not really what he wants).

So, we have an outline of his character which I can draw out as an acceptable straight line on the paper, for now. Then more events unfold; his once friendly acquaintance (Howard Stark) becomes unrecognizable, his wife keeps secrets, his daughter is growing up and that is his only anchor as things slowly start to wiggle out his acceptable straight line. And then, boom! The revelation of Barnes' letters in the worst possible form one can expect happens and the ink bursts, like a vessel; suddenly out of line, squiggling out of the paper, lost.

Then we see our protagonist, struggling to collect himself back, to get back onto the paper; all his travels and how it's told, leaving out a big gap of years, only telling us of some places can also be seen as the protagonist's mental presence. He didn't know where he was for how long and it's all a mess. I don't know if it was a conscious choice to do that but it's brilliant in retrospect. And then when he finally does pick himself onto the paper again, falling back in line with his wife on the street in that protest, it's reassuring.

But that line is no longer "straight". At this point, who cares, at least he's back on the paper again and not somewhere else, irretrievable.

Then he's let known about the winter soldier and this is what I was talking about teasing a forthcoming event. It dampens the shock appropriately, lending into confirmation of a needling suspicion and when the protagonist feels the furious need for rescue and retribution, we are hand to hand with him. Which is important because if only shock played a larger part, then we would all feel as if we're in a blind fury. This on the other hand, feels more rational, I don't know how else to describe it.

Speaking of poetry. Because when never?

It's there in the writing and Barnes' letters (prominently in the second part of this trilogy). It's there through description or events as well as emotions and it's impossible to not be swayed by them. Gritty, gravelly, raw and biting.

The sensation of falling in love for this story can be described to feeling my heart ripped out ragged and messy from my chest. It's not a clean cut: here, I'm giving this to you, you own it. But more of an ambush during a stroll and the feel of soviet metal fingers digging through the flesh of my chest to garner the "meat of my heart".

When I say I lost my heart to this story, I mean that.

[tokyoghoose]

is it hot in here, or is it just me?

pairing: daisuke kambe x reader

playlist: dirty dirty - charlotte cardin, so hot you're hurting my feelings - caroline polachek*, i touch myself - borns ( cover )

warnings: mentions of sex and dirty thoughts, fighting/violence, mentions of murder, the word slut ( towards reader ), daisuke being hot af ig

summary: while on an undercover mission you reunite with an old partner before things get 'frisky' and not in a good way.

announcements!

first full length balance unlimited fic! im actually quite proud of it even if the anime is postponed. I will continue to write for them 😌

feedback is welcome and appreciated! requests are open!

—————

The bar is more like a club, except for the fact there's no one so extremely intoxicated that they're acting a fool. No, it's actually quite prestigious for being underground. White and gold outline outline the area and it smells like expensive cigars and leather. Live jazz music plays in the background, setting the mood for the couples huddled together in love booths. It's nice, beyond nice— whose daddy paid for this?

In a red dress, you stir your gibson cocktail, awaiting the signal from your boss over the earpiece. It's already been an hour and there's been no sign of the suspect. Maybe you've been played. As time passes that seems more and more likely. At this point you were ready to turn in and call it a night. Places like this were no fun unless you had someone with you. And honestly, being alone in a place like this wasn't the most comfortable. There were eyes looking your way from singles and couples a like. Who knew there would be so many swingers.

There's a patterned knock at the door that makes you perk up and glance through your peripheral. The body guard looks through the slit in the door, moving to mention something about the password. The club was always tight on security, afterall. To get in you needed to prove you were coming with a member or waiting for someone who was one. The whole process is quite time consuming when you're faking your identity.

Finally, the door opens and you can see a tall man in a dark grey suit walk in. Curiously you turn your face to place your chin in the palm of your hand. Eyes travel up the figure before finally reaching the face of the mystery man. Not the suspect, but he's even better. A fond smile comes to your face at the realization of Daisuke Kambe. The name has a familiar taste on your tongue and it's honestly quite uplifting seeing such a 'friendly' face. He looks the same after three years and you wonder briefly if he's undercover too or if he has paid his way in. Daisuke was never frugal when it came to getting what he wants. Where he was lacking in words, he made up for it with expensive charm.

Oh how you had missed him.

Meeting his eyes, you raise both brows in question before turning away to down your drink. You push the glass to the bartender, holding a finger up before glancing over at daisuke, who sits in one of the booths across the room. He narrows his eyes at you in question, jutting his chin over to the bar before nodding to the door.

So he's on a mission afterall.

Your eyes shift to the door as well with a nod. He seems to understand well, but it's not a surprise after the time you worked together. It was a brief two years, but during it you learned to communicate in silence. His eyes told you much more than his mouth ever could. Now thinking of it, all the Kambes were better with actions than words.

—————

A few conversations have picked up after twenty more minutes of waiting. Perhaps if there wasn't another man in the area, the other's advances would have moved you. You weren't picky with your men, but you weren't one to settle for second place when first is still an option. Still, it kept you distracted for the time being. Besides, Daisuke looked was busy with a man himself.

You lean in, placing a hand on the chest of some patron with a giggle before the door opens once again. This time you're quick to look, seeing another man trail in. The static in your earpiece comes alive, the voice on the other side stating that it is in fact your target. The patron you were with turns his head as well and smiles before pardoning himself to shake the hand of the man. You briefly recall the suspects name: Vince Aiko.

Now the party was getting started. You wave them over, batting your eyes with a small smile. You don't miss the woman that walks in behind them, but she doesnt stop at the bar anyway. Instead, she heads over to the raven haired across the way. You resist the urge to follow her figure, instead keeping eyes on the two men and starting conversation.

—————

The goal was simple. Get the target alone and eliminate him. Usually you weren't one for death, but the police weren't helping in this case. The company you worked for took it into their own hands, given the okay. Even if it wasn't your task to kill him, someone else would. No jail time would follow as apart of the deal, so there were no repercussions against you for killing the scum. It's a win win.

The other man had gone to the restroom by now, leaving you alone with Vince. He smells lavish as well. It was clear he belonged here by the way his hair was combed back and how whitened his teeth were. He has money and it's not ruining out anytime soon.

It took you until he ordered a drink and didn't have to pay to realize he was the owner. The assumption that it was daddy's money grew stronger. He was outwardly trying to flex wealth he didn't even own. He wasn't trying to be subtle when he asked for the most expensive bottle or paid the band to play his favorite song. It was entertaining, yet disappointing. At least Daisuke spent the money without mentioning anything about it. At this point you just kinda wished the guy would shut up.

Placing a lingering touch on his shoulder, you lean in again. He smells like a new car. He places a hand on your upper thigh, quickly catching on to your advances.

"Why dont we go to the back."

It's not a question, it's a demand and it's exactly what you wanted. Right in the palm of your hands. With a giggle, you take his hand and stand while plucking the toothpick out of your glass and pulling the olive between your teeth smoothly. Walking past Daisuke and the woman at his booth, you wink.

The backroom looks like how it sounds. Behind another door and a pink curtains, you enter a red room. It has a single loveseat in the shape of a heart and there's champagne and wine on a side table. There's a dark blue light overhead that contrasts the rest of the room like a spotlight. There's no music except for the quiet hum behind the doors, but the further you go away from them the quieter they get. He takes your hand and pulls you to the loveseat.

"I'm can't say I'm surprised. My friend out there thought you were in to him, yet here we are... Is it the money that gets you going?"

His eyes trail over your figure and you understand what this room is for exclusively. You resist the urge to roll your eyes or push him off as his fingertips skim your arms and you play along.

"What can I say? Rich men are the sexiest."

You play with the collar of his suit, looking up at him through your lashes and parting your red lips. He stands up taller to glance down at you, trying to assert his dominance. It's sad knowing that's how he got off. He wants control and he wants you on your knees, the only other thing he could ask for at that point is for you to lick his dress shoes. It makes you sick.

His fingers stop at the thin strap on your dress, fiddling with it before starting to slide it down. You push him away and into the seat behind him. Taking a hold of his tie, you lean down to his ear to kiss underneath it.

"Why rush when I can give you a show."

He chuckles when you turn around and you roll your eyes. What an idiot. I almost want to laugh. You move your arms up, brushing your hair off your shoulders before reaching for the top of the zipper. Glancing at him with a smirk, you shake a finger and turn to face him. His fingers rake up his thighs, reaching out to touch you but you smack his hand away with a tsk.

"Lookie, no touchy."

You start to make a round behind the chair, fingers grazing his shoulders and pulling at the fabric. Once behind him and forcing his head forward you take out the earpiece and reach for your thigh. There's a gun there in the holster and a knife beside it, hidden by the red drapes. Thank god the for the slit. When rounding his other side you pull the firearm out and aim it at his temple, stabbing the knife into his thigh before he can jump up.

"Sit down, sicko. Don't try anything or I'll put a bullet through your skull."

You stick the earpiece into his ear, waiting for the receiving in to chime in.

"Who let you think a soundproof room was smart? It's like one of those double sided mirrors in here. Honestly, you're such an easy target."

His eyes glower at you like his expression alone will make you back down.

"You slut! I'm gonna kill yo-" He's cut off by the earpiece. They ask for information, stating that if he complys his life will be spared.

"I'm not stupid-"

"Beg to differ."

"-I know you'll just kill me anyway. I'm not telling you shit!"

The earpiece goes back off and you take it from his ear to listen to the other side. Two words is all you need to finish the assignment. Kill him.

"This could've been so much easier for you if you just listened. " You feign a pout, clicking the safety off. He struggles against the metal, rambling on about killing you and the company, finding you and blah blah blah. Having enough of his whines, you silence him with a quick pull of the trigger. You look down at the body on the floor and then at yourself, cleaning up quickly before leaving the room, making sure to step on his back in the process.

—————

There was maybe ten minutes before his bodyguards would notice he hasn't left the room. You go to make your leave, but not before stopping by Daisuke's booth. You stand a bit aways, watching him try to get information out of the girl before his eyes glance over to meet yours. A one-sided smirk creeps onto your face. He was never very shameless when it came to things he did and the way his eyes did a slow once over of your body was deliberate.

How you missed that look. It's the same bedroom eyes from the nights you spent together in the sheets. You start to wonder if the body under his shit looks the same and if his fingers still produced magic without even trying. Were his lips still as soft?

Now isn't the time for that. You narrows your eyes and go to slide into the booth beside the girl after you notice the disgusted look she gave you. Shame is her freshly manicured nails were to get messed up in a fight. Not that she was trying to pick one, but-

"Long time no see, Kambe."

Daisuke quirks a brow and gives you a warning look when the girl glances at him. You shrug, placing your head in your hand.

"You know her?"

"Of course he does! I miss the sex we shared every night."

He chokes on his drink, shaking his head. What has gotten into you? You're lucky he had finally gotten the break they needed in the case before you came over. Still, you were way out of line with that one.

"Y/N, this is Lily. Y/N was just kidding, we used to work together. "

When he scowls at you, it actually scares you because he means it. He could take you down with him if need be. He adjusts his suit jacket and clears his throat before continuing, "Thank you for your time, but I suppose i should get go-"

"Aiko's dead! Code red!"

Daisuke looks over with his tongue to his cheek as if to say you fucked up and you're not ever hearing the end of this if we get out alive. Honestly, he might just leave you behind if in sacrifice fkr the case. You shrug in innocence, already calling in help for an escape. Until then you'd have to fight them off. Apparently these dummies were smart enough to notice who Vince went in with and they are quick to lock eyes with you. And so did the rest of the club goers.

You make a move to get up, sliding out of the leather seat with hands in the air in surrender.

"Would you believe me if I said he did that himself?"

It starts with someone attempting to grab you before people go ducking under tables. All those grueling hours of training for really coming in handy now. You just barely miss the grabbing hands, taking the bottle of wine on the table and breaking it. Lily gasps at the shards, going to hide under the table as well and tugging on Daisuke to follow. You gesture the broken bottle about, thrusting it forward.

The men simply laugh and go for the kill. The bottle doesn't last long and you move away from the table for the fight.

Hell is broken loose and it isn't long before Daisuke resorts to joining the fight. It shouldn't surprise you, but it does. He punches one of the guys with a right hook, grabbing the collad of his shirt and throwinf him into another. For someone so weak looking, he sure was strong. It makws you swoon.

"I really do miss us, Daisuke. Just like old times."

He scoffs, continuing to fight beside you. He hates fighting and always has. He finds it undignified and perfers to just dodge and have them attack each other if he can't pay it off. But right now there was no room for negotiations.

"Now isn't the time to relive the past, y/n."

It stings, but you know it's true. Daisuke was the kind to get straight to the point. It's part of the reason he was so easy to work with. Suddenly, it makes you upset to realize that this was in the past.

You hear a car screech outside, trying to land one more punch on some bald guy before looking at the door. You tug at Daisuke's suit, practically dragging him towards the door before pulling out your gun and pointing it at the rest of the men standing. The hesitate. As much as they want to go after you, none of them want to die for it.

You push him to there door and nudge him to open it. There's a revved engine outside waiting for you, and apparently now another guest. He takes the hint, pushing the door open and taking the gun from your hands as you flee. There's one shot fired, but you know the victim won't die. He may seem heartless, but he wouldn't kill someone unlwss he had to. He knows when someone will save someone else and he knows what's in people's conscious. He had always been good at reading people when he cared enough to.

The night has turned from blue to black and you aren't sure when. It's suddenly too cold to wear the dress and it's starting to rain. This has really been one hellish night. The passenger waves you over from down the block in a hurry. There are sirens in the distance—they must've called the police to arrest everyone else involved. That's always how it went. They gave the company the ok to take the case and then come in to finish the job and take the credit because of the unsavory ways you deal with the suspects. If you weren't always in such a hurry and you didn't want to be arrested, you'd be pissed. With a huff you kick off your heels and run down the pavement with Daisuke hot on your trail. He didn't usually flee scenes like this, not anymore at least. He'd be lying if he didn't miss the rush of it. He'd be lying if he said he didn't miss the past life he lived.

When you get to the care, it starts to pour and Daisuke puts his suit jacket over your head and shoulders before pushing you into the backseat. Caring, yet impatient. His attitude makes you roll your eyes and shove him when he gets in.

The car pulls away just before the police arrive and it's quiet except for the low hum of some tape playing. The radio didn't work and the volume knob was stuck, so you'd have to strain your ears to actually listen. But it seems no one minds.

You take off the jacket, handing it back of to him and he puts a hand up to say you can keep it. He says something along the lines of, "It'll still be raining when you get out. Give it back later." Is he insinuating you'll meet again?

"Or I can give it back tomorrow morning, if you feel like staying over. "

The sudden bravery shocks you and apparently it takes him aback as well by the look on his face. His face drops back to deadpan almost as fast as it lifted and he scoffs, looking away and out the window.

"I really do miss you, Daisuke. In more ways than one," you say quietly, looking down at the jacket and running the fabric between your thumb and forefinger. He glances back over at you before dropping his gaze to your hand and with a sigh he places his over your own and squeezes. It's a conformation, a returned feeling, but of what exactly —you aren't sure.

It'd be enough for tonight.

[ughgclden]

bee, love, don’t apologise, please, it’s okay, and first and foremost, are you alright?? i hope you’re taking care of yourself, love, but i understand, i don’t think there’s been a year since third grade that i haven’t gotten pneumonia in the winter. I hope you’re feeling alright!!

honestly, dead poets society is one of my only personality traits anymore, i find myself drawing parallels to it constantly, for no reason but i love thinking about it. i’ve watched it so many times at this point, it’s,,, concerning. those tests always take me way less time than they give me, and i used to feel really awkward, i remember i took a bio one once, four hours they gave me, 45 minutes in, i was finished, and the moderator didn’t believe me. i aced it too, like the silly little neil kinnie i am. i’ve gotten used to the ‘worse’ side of being a neil kinnie, and honestly, now that my mum isn’t as controlling about everything as she used to be, it’s easier to deal with. i remember once, i’d gotten an 89 in algebra, and she threatened to pull me out of the fall show. that was a neil perry moment if i ever had one lol. the biggest thing these days is just imposter syndrome, imposter syndrome like oh you’re not hispanic enough, but also, you’re not queer enough, nonbinary enough, things like that. It’s exacerbated some days, but i try.

i watched the it movies on my cousin’s hbo,,, i may or may not have used it without her permission since she forgot to log out of my computer, but that’s neither here nor there. i remember having such a hard time taking the first one seriously initially, because of all the new kids on the block jokes, having a mum who was obsessed with them made it hard, especially when i actually got them all- in truth, the only midnight premiere i’ve been able to make was the force awakens, and i had school the next day too. i’m definitely a richie kinnie, and i have the internalised homophobia (only towards myself though) to prove it /hj my waterbottle has both a sticker of neil on it and a sticker of the r + e carving on it. in case there was any doubt about me lmao. stan kin makes sense for you, honestly, i can see it, i can see it.

okay so listen- no really, i’d bought them with the intention of only drinking half of one that night and spreading them out like that, but then came 9:45pm, and i had a research paper (on womens’ pockets/lack thereof) due at 10am that i simply hadn’t even started, so i downed them all in an hour and got the paper turned in at 5:56 in the morning. but i scare you huh? /hj bee, you’re too sweet, in truth, i’m fairly inelegant, but i try, as for the comforting and cosy, i’ll take you at your word, since that is something only someone interacting with me could discern. i do try to be kind to others for the most part. mainly i think because i’m usually on the other end of mean people.

i’m just perceptive like that bee, i dunno what to tell you, something just tells me, you know? /j and thank you, i always feel a little silly talking about it, because most of the tattoos i want are dead poets society tattoos, i guess some part of me, within the part of me that feels so incredibly tied to it, feels as if if i were able to get a tattoo i’d owe it to the movie in some way, if that makes any sense. i’ve already begged a friend of mine to go with me to get my first once i get to new york, the question though, is what to get first. i’ve got time to make a decision (for once in my life) i just spend a lot of time thinking about it.

honestly, i have never known a school rule to make sense. banning ripped jeans? banning dyed hair? it’s almost as if if they don’t stifle everything natural about kids expressing themselves they dont feel like they’re doing anything. but i digress. the same-sex couple rules were. awful. 12 year old me had enough going on without having an administrator yell at my friend and i for hugging in the courtyard and not leaving until we were a foot apart, but hey.

okay, jumping over a fence to go to a mcdonalds? how coming of age indie movie manic pixie dream girl of you /hj

200k words, is that a challenge? also ahaha not at all like my italian uncle up there just opened a ‘pizzeria’ /hj but mob!star au? might be a project i should start… granted, i’m not as good a storyteller as you, but i can try.

when i was little, i wanted to revolutionise things, i guess. i even actually wrote out a campaign, i wonder if its still somewhere. thank you for believing in me, but these days, bee, i’m thinking less about changing the world, and more about making it the next few weeks, and then the ones after that. little star was aware of so much, but also so little. i wonder what they’d think of me now, honestly.

i did, in fact, teach archery, it was so fun but my arms got SO SORE, and the kid who challenged my archery skills seemed surprised when i actually,, hit the bullseyes. my inner susan was happy then. incidentally the experience is also why i made a playlist called “touchstarved and wanting to teach you to shoot a bow” which low-key slaps when i’m lonely. and bee omg i cannot believe you said im better than susan pevensie i will be thinking about this for the rest of my life thank you- and yes, yes it was named aslan, however did you guess? /j prince caspian<33333

i’ll let you know my results from the tournament, as soon as they come out, and i say this having just put on pjs after taking off my suit, and sitting in the room with my cat in my dear evan hansen hoodie, frantically refreshing the results page because i’m anxious and impatient.

i hope you have a good night, with fitful and restful sleep, i’m sorry this got to be so long, but you know me, i certainly can talk. i’m honestly shocked i even made it to finals, considering i was running off four hours of sleep, having gone to bed at three last night. whoops.

all my love, hugs, and a warm mug of tea,

yours,

star✨

p.s i said yes so that?? happened?? it honestly feels surreal but we’re not gonna be in the same place anymore come the end of this year, so that’ll be something to deal with

P.p.s might just start adding spanish or latin or russian phrases to these if i keep having to translate your cute french bee /lh /hj

star my love, i know you said don't apologise, but i think the word 'sorry' makes up about 60% of my vocabulary. i'm okay!! was just a bit icky, but luckily i've recovered now!!

that's so nice - and again, makes so much sense for you. i think you would work perfectly in welton, i know it. i love bringing the messages from that film into my own life, as silly as it may sound. i'm astonished, and so fucking jealous of you. i used to finish tests maybe half an hour early, but hours is so impressive??? fun fact i did finish my physics final in about 45 minutes and slept for the other hour <3 neil would b proud my love!!! oh my god - i'm so sorry that happened??? but that is also so neil kinnie??? it seems futile me saying this, but i assure you that you are hispanic enough, and queer enough, and non-binary enough. you are enough, period. more than enough even. imposter syndrome is the worst, and i'm so so sorry you're dealing with it.

she did that to herself, you just saw an opportunity /lh a midnight premiere of the force awakens sounds so cute though omg - i hope you had the absolute best time. the r + e carving actually broke me. as a die hard reddie shipper since 2017, seeing the movie make it basically canon?! had me a mess in the cinema.

you are ridiculously comforting and cosy, everything about you feels like a warm hug from a familiar face and i love it. and the way you write is so smooth, it makes me think of a quill smoothly gliding across parchment, the deep black ink unsmudged and pristine. that seems a little pretentious of me, but oh well.

i also want some dps tattoos!! i desperately want "and still we sleep" from todd's poem, and was also so so tempted to get an outline drawing of meeks + pitts dancing on the roof. i love that, and i can't wait until the day you get it, whichever one it may be. my one concern is becoming addicted to them and making my bank account suffer - at least my piercing obsession is a little easier to fund /hj

i've NEVER gotten that - they claim it's 'distracting' but how on earth would it be?? when i got to college, no one was distracted by my dyed hair, and i certainly wasn't distracted by other people's outfits or painted nails. you were yelled at. for hugging. a friend.. what the fuck is wrong with these people??

just call me ramona flowers star /j it was possibly the highlight of my school career, sans hiding in the back room of the music room to avoid a maths test

i bet you're an amazing storyteller, if these letters are anything to go by. it would be a new york times best seller, i know it

we all have to take things one step at a time, i think. that's the only way i really get through things if i'm honest. one day after another and the cycle repeats. i love wondering what young me would think of me now - i'd probably be intimidated of myself, but i like to think i'd be proud that i'm still here, pursuing something i love

that playlist. sounds nothing short of sheer perfection. i too am touch starved and want to teach someone to shoot a bow - even though i.. cannot shoot a bow... but i can wield a sword so, it's close enough.

i saw your message about the tournament results - im so fucking proud of you!!!! you deserve it so so much and i couldn't be happier for you. see, your words and ideas are changing the world, even if you don't realise it.

ps; that is so fun???? omg im so happy for you star, you deserve tis <33 i hope towards the end of this year whatever happens leaves you both happy, no matter how far the distance.

pps; omg no.. please don't do that.. aha that would be awful... definitely wouldn't make my heart race.. haha not at all

all of my love, star. pardon the pun, but you are out of this world ;) i'll leave you with one of my favourite quotes;

il n'y a qu'un bonheur dans la vie, c'est d'aimer et d'être aimé <3

[manchesterau]

fic writer interview

thank you to the lovely @rosesau for tagging me to do this!!!

name: leedsau/aiienharry (on ao3 lollz)  

fandoms: I have onlyyy written for the one direction fandom so far and im a little apprehensive about writing for some of the other fandoms I consider myself apart of. I really just feel like I would butcher the characters dfghgdfdsf so im a little....not scared but wary of it rn

where you post: ao3 only!!

most popular one-shot: been waiting on you all my night which...I don’t know why but honestly im really proud of that fic so yay to that!!

most popular multi-chap: ummm for some reason all my fics are one shots, even my longest fic is??? I don’t know why but it seems like one shots are my thing....for now!

favorite story you’ve written so far: hmmm, I have to say it’s the fic that I am currently working on that will be up sometime in December. I just feel like it shows tremendous growth on my part, as a writer, and I really can’t wait for you all to read it. not saying I dont like my other fics but idk, I feel like they dont reallllyy show my true potential as a writer (they make me feel like an amateur, which I am but I hate that feeling)

fic you were nervous to post: honestly anyone else but you because I got it into my head that ppl wouldn’t want to read a story involving teen pregnancy even if it was based off a movie and that it would make ppl mad???? I don’t know why but I was soooo nervous dfghdsf

how do you choose your titles: okay, it’s actually very simple, I listen to a song and im like ‘oh...this fits perfectly’ like I chose a song that incapsulates my fic perfectly and chose a lyric from there, sometimes I will change the lyric to a completely different song

do you outline: yes!! before I didn’t and it worked out fine for me, but lately as I want my fics to get longer and longer I have started to write a very vague outline of mostly scenes I want to happen in my fic in the order I feel they should happen.

complete: 15 which is so insane to me like wow

in progress: right now only 1, but sometimes i literally am working on 345434 fics at a time which....I gotta stop doing

coming soon/not yet started: coming soon is a fic that I know everyone is not a stranger too seeing as I bring it up a lot mostly because im so proud of it and myself dgfhgfgdf but I should be uploading a little preview to it realllllllll soon ;)

prompts?: I was actually thinking about this today, and I wanted to do prompts, but then I feel like I just would NOT do them justice at all, like I find it so hard idk why. but I want to push myself to be able to do them

upcoming work you’re most excited about: my complicated dad au that’s really not about them being parents and more jsut them being...humans??? such a horrible description but it delves into things ive never written before and heavy topics that im so !!!!! for 

I tag (pls if you did this ignore me): @sunflowrsix @softfonds @zouissupremacy @quelsentiment @queerharry @bluejeanlouis @femstyles @britishlovers

[something-tofightfor]

He’s Not Here - Part 24

Pairing: Billy Russo x Reader

Word Count: 8034

Rating: M (language and violence)

Parts 1-23 + the interludes and NSFW alphabet can be found on my Masterlist (link in bio)

Summary: What’s in the box that Billy left for you? Why was it so important that you have it? Does it even matter? 

Author’s Note: I’m about to ruin your Saturday.

(Banner made by @the-blind-assassin-12)

It had taken you three days to go through all of the files on Billy’s laptop, starting with the videos in the folder he’d labeled with your name. There were plenty of them, and each one was like a punch in the gut, simply because with every word he said, you heard him in it, the way he’d been when he was with you, even though you weren’t together at the time. They followed a linear timeline - some of them were simply Billy talking to you through his webcam, staring at the laptop with wide brown eyes, features contorted in sadness as he reminded himself - and by extension, you - of what he was doing and why. You couldn’t watch them all that first night; you were crying too hard, and after calling your boss and letting her know that you needed a few days off, you pulled one of Billy’s t shirts on and crawled into bed, bringing his iPod with you and holding it with one hand until you fell asleep, the songs that had comforted him in the desert filling your ears. 

 You’d cried yourself to sleep, but had woken up early the next morning, determined to make more progress with the videos and the files. You made notes as you went through them, lists of what was in each file, and as you did so, the story unfolded, little by little. Billy had been involved with heroin smuggling, starting with the contact that he’d had with Schoonover when he’d been shot. The man had offered him an opportunity to work directly for him as soon as he’d gotten back overseas, and though Billy had been hesitant because he knew what hard drugs could do to people, he’d agreed. “I didn’t want to do it, you know? But it was good money, and if I hadn’t agreed, he woulda gone to someone else, and who knows what he woulda done to me for sayin’ no. I wanted Anvil, wanted to… just wanted to get started, and figured that once I was back here and could find a new way to… he’d go somewhere else after I’d done my part. He’d find someone else, and I could just…” Billy’s hand had been working the back of his neck as he spoke, still not looking at the camera. “I was wrong. I was so wrong, but by the time I realized it, we were already… it was about more than the drugs, it was … we were - me an’ Frankie were…” 

 Agreeing to help with the drug smuggling had been just the beginning, and while Billy had assumed that he’d be on the hook for that when he came home - using Anvil as a front until Schoonover could find another avenue for importing and distributing the heroin - things had quickly changed when he and Frank had been tasked with leading two squds of men in Afghanistan, turning from dedicated Marines into something more deadly, more focused - more wrong. “Cerberus, at first was just them tellin’ us to go in and do what was necessary. We’d all been asked to do a buncha shit before, shit that we didn’t agree with but didn’t question, and so it wasn’t anything different. It got bad, Orange… Rawlins had his own agenda, and we just did what we were told, and… and it got out of control. It wasn’t just Schoonover keepin’ an eye on me anymore, it was both of ‘em, and I couldn’t...” 

 The folders contained information about each of the men - dates and amounts, contacts, phone call logs, requests, meeting notes. “I couldn’t keep track of shit over there, but once I got here? I knew… I knew there was a chance they were gonna get caught, and I’d go down with ‘em, but I wanted to… I know I can only count on myself, yeah? But after Schoonover died … after Frankie killed ‘im, things got… things changed. Rawlins is so paranoid now, but he thinks that… it’s never gonna be on him, never gonna… but he… if he knew I was keepin’ track of things, makin’ these videos? It’s gonna cover my ass, but he’d kill me for it right after he made me watch him kill you.” 

 Billy outlined everything for you - the way that the operation had changed after Schoonover died and the heroin stopped coming in in the same way, the way that Rawlins stayed as far out of the spotlight as possible and still tried to control the narrative, sending Billy and his men out on missions that needed to be handled quickly and quietly. “An’ I know you won’t want it, but I can only use so much of this money, and if I’m… I’m doin’ all of this shit? I want it to mean somethin’.” There were things that Billy did that were legitimate - he talked about situations where the men and women of Anvil were doing real jobs, where the company was exactly what Billy had dreamed, getting recognition in the papers and in military and political circles. “It’s only been a year, only been… and we’re doin’ it. I’m doin’ it, and I want… I wish I could tell you about it, because I think you’d be proud of me, at least for some of this shit.” 

 The money that he’d been putting into your account - that he’d opened by using the signature on the contract that you’d both signed for the Anvil party - was, according to him, from Billy’s portion of the legitimate deals he’d been doing, the training and the protection, the missions. “I’m usin’ the blood money, and that’s more than enough. Everything that goes to you? That’s… that’s what I woulda been doin’ for you if we were still together.” But there’s no way to verify that, I don’t… all I have are these records, but… But you realized that there’d be no reason for anyone to look into the account; it had been opened in your name, and the signature was as close to your own as you’d ever seen. You went back and forth about how you felt, knowing that the money you had access to could have come from illegal activity, but at the end of the day, you decided it didn’t matter. 

 I can… I can use this to help him, I can get him a lawyer, I… You’d actually laughed when he explained what was going on with your rent amount being deposited into the account in one of the earliest videos. “I told you we’d be livin’ together as soon as I came back, that I wanted to… well, since I’m savin’ money by living in the apartment next to my office, instead of paying my rent, I’m paying yours… kind of, even though you don’t know it yet.” 

 Billy had moved out of his apartment and into the building that he was leasing only a few months after Anvil opened. You weren’t surprised by it - that meant he could be close to his recruits, close to the company, always available, and even though you knew that him doing that would have consumed him, you also knew that it was what would have kept him sane - and too busy to really sit back and think about how far his life had spiraled. 

 The videos continued, Billy talking about the things that Rawlins and Wolf had him do, the meetings he had with Bennett and the other men, the promises they made him. “I know I can’t trust ‘em, and at this point, it’s more about me bein’ able to somehow cover my own ass when this all goes bad. Not if.  I’m guilty, I’ve done a lot of bad shit and I know that, but it didn’t start out that way, and now… now they’ve got me in so deep that… I don’t know what else to do, except make these videos and talk to you like you’re really here because it might matter someday, even if it’s only to you.” 

 You’d seen the progression in Billy as the time passed. His first video to you, he’d been distraught and angry, trying to explain everything to you in a way that made sense while coming to terms with the fact that his life was exploding. The video after the Castles had been killed had been difficult to listen to, to say the least, but he’d been a combination of heartbroken and pissed, and you’d seen the fire in his eyes, heard the edge to his voice. The one from after Anvil’s opening had been short, but Billy was simply resigned in that one - he’d  talked about your kiss, talked about saying goodbye. “I shoulda done it like that in March. I shoulda just been more honest, been more… but if you’ve made it this far, you know why I couldn’t, you know the risk. You know how dangero… You’re right. I have to let you go, I can’t keep pullin’ you back in. I already did, and it’s too dangerous, even though I tried not to, I … The next few, he’d been more calm, matter of fact - you could hear in his voice that he’d accepted his new reality - a life without you, without the Castles and without anything meaningful in it, aside from Anvil - something that had been his dream but that he’d allowed to be corrupted. 

 Billy had laid out everything for you - the reasoning behind your breakup, the reasons that he’d acted the way he had, the motivations for how hard he was working with the company, the need for him to try and help Frank in any way that he could… and even the ways that he was trying to make it seem as if everything was normal in his personal life. You’d assumed that Billy hadn’t been celibate after ending things with you, but hearing him talk about it? Seeing him looking at the camera and then away from it while he talked about the fact that he had to keep up appearances by being seen with other women, that he’d had to sell it by drawing them in and then cutting them lose? It hurt, and no number of apologies would ever make the feeling that you’d had in the pit of your stomach while you heard him apologize for sleeping with other women - and then remind you that he was doing it because he loved you disappear. He’s not wrong, though, it makes sense, it just… 

 You believed him, believed every word of what he said, because the things he said in the videos lined up with the other files on the computer - the pictures, the spreadsheets, the documents. They even lined up with the phone calls and the text messages, and you knew without a doubt that they’d line up with Anvil’s records, too. Billy had had to do a lot off the books, but it seemed like before he’d turned over the invoices to whoever it was that had paid him for the ‘special’ missions, he’d made copies of documents, made notes of the transactions. Though Anvil’s headquarters was nothing but a smoking pile of ash, there was a separate portion of the hard drive dedicated to it - and to the records. I have everything. Everything he worked for. Everything he was. “I know that my discharge papers say somethin’ different on record, but I have the real ones, I asked for ‘em when I came home. It was before Rawlins got to… he’s gonna use the ones he did, the ones… but I know. These are real, and you’ll have em, they’ll… they’ve gotta be good for something, right?” 

 As time passed, you could see that for Billy, things were falling apart and he didn’t know how to deal with it. Frank’s supposed reappearance - and the fact that Madani was also looking for the man weighed heavily on him - you watched the look on his face change, the fear in his eyes grow. “If Frankie’s really back, he’s gonna know, he’s… I’m not gonna be able to explain, because how do you… how do I explain that? How do I get him to listen for long enough to...” Billy had wanted to see Frank again, had been both relieved and afraid to learn that the man was still alive, but it presented him with a lot of problems, too. “I didn’t want to turn him over to Rawlins, but I couldn’t… I couldn’t tell him no, because I’m in too deep now, he still has leverage on me, and I can’t… I won’t risk it.” Billy had been relieved that Frank hadn’t shown up at the docks, and then the bombings and  hotel attack had happened, exposing him to both Madani and Frank at the same time. “That’s not how I wanted him to find out, not how I wanted her to find out, either. I don’t… she was a means to an end, but I didn’t… it was never supposed to happen like this, I shoulda known that Frankie wouldn’t let it… fuck.” 

 There was no doubt that in the few days leading up to Billy showing up on your doorstep, he’d been trying to make sure that you had everything you could ever need on the laptop - and on the phone, which is where the call logs and text messages still were stored, along with audio recordings of meetings that he’d had with Rawlins and other men that you didn’t recognize - because while most of the information was organized, there were also things that were messily added, not labeled thoroughly, just put on the computer so that it would be there after he wasn’t. 

 But it was the last video - the one that you watched, curled up in bed, wearing his sweats and clutching the dog tag in one hand - that forced you into action, caused you to start thinking about what you could do with the information you had. In it, Billy was in a dark room, and he was wearing the outfit you’d last seen him in, hair hanging over his eyes and his skin pale, but his voice was sure, and he’d done something that he hadn’t in any of the previous videos: he stared directly into the camera for the whole thing. 

 “So this is it. I’m meetin’ Frankie tonight, and it’s… it’s gonna be one of us or neither of us. I gotta fight, I’ve always fought, and even though after what I did, just lettin’ him have me is what I deserve, it won’t… he won’t… I can’t just lay down and die.” He’d run his fingers through his hair, taking a deep breath. “I gotta say this now, because it could be my only chance, and if I say it to you when I come there in a few hours, you won’t let me leave.” Your heart was pounding as Billy leaned in, staring at you through the screen. “He thinks I’m somethin’ that I’m not, at least not completely. I did a lot of bad shit, a lot that I wish I wouldn’t have done, but it’s always been about survival. For me, for you, for him, for… fuck. You know how I get, so I can’t… I can’t promise you that I’m gonna make it through the night. Frankie and me, we always… we bring out the best in each other, but we also... “  Billy shook his head. “I told you I’d come back to you, no matter how long it took me, but I can’t… I don’t think I’m gonna be able to do that after tonight. I don’t think I deserve it, because this whole fucking thing is just… I just tried to… I’m tired. I’m tired of things bein’ like this, tired of… this isn’t me. It can’t be me anymore.”  

 He stood and walked away, coming back with the book you’d made him in his hands, holding it up for you to see that it was tattered, the pages bent and ripped at the edges. “I think you coulda forgiven me for the drugs, even though you would have been mad. And I know you woulda told me to … to warn ‘em, instead of… but I couldn’t. I tried to tell you without tellin’ you, but now I’m… You loved me, and I think you still might, but you need to know that it didn’t matter who I was with or what I was doin’, or what any of them say.” Billy tore the last page from the book and held it up, turning it so that you could see the words, even though they were backwards. “I just love you. I always have. And if you love me, you’ll use this - everything I gave you - not to clear my name, but at least to… explain why I did what I did. Maria’s parents, maybe? Frankie, if he makes it… if… fuck. Just promise me that you won’t blame yourself. I didn’t give you a choice - I made it for you.” He sighed, looking down, and you saw that the bloody fingerprint was on the card. “Make it worth it. Help him if you can.” Billy licked his lips, saying your name and holding his hand up to the screen - much like he’d done when he was overseas. “I love you, and I’m sorry.” 

 The video ended there, and you sat staring at the screen - his face frozen in a mask of sadness, his hand against the screen with his fingers splayed. He thought Frank would win. He didn’t think he would… Without thinking, you reached up to mirror the motion, tears streaming down your face. “Oh, Billy.” You took a deep breath, eyes finally moving away from the screen and down to where the rest of the items from the box  were spread out on your bed, thinking. He told me to make it worth it, but the only thing… You shook your head. Frank was still alive, that much was for sure. He deserves to know, he needs to… this can clear his name, too, give him closure, it’ll… You took a deep breath, still thinking. But Billy’s still alive, too. 

 As much as you hated Frank for what he’d done to Billy, you understood it. From where Frank stood, Billy was solely responsible for the deaths of his family, and there’d been no reason for it aside from Billy’s own selfishness and his desire to become wealthy and respected. That has to change. He needs to… Your breath leaving you in a shudder, you closed your eyes. Billy was in the hospital, clinging to life, and when he woke, he’d have Homeland and the rest of the government pinning crimes on him that he hadn’t been responsible for while overlooking the part that their own men - and women -  had played. You knew that they’d likely frozen Billy’s bank accounts; despite the fact that he’d included his own credit and debit cards in a separate envelope, as well as information for two offshore accounts, you were wary of counting on any of that money to be there when and if Billy needed it. But my account, he’s... I can use that, I can... You climbed out of the bed, crossing your arms over your chest as you paced your room, thinking. 

 Billy would have a public defender, a lawyer that was likely going to be able to be intimidated, one that wouldn’t work hard to save the life of his client - someone that he didn’t care at all about. And he’ll lose. And he’ll go to jail, or worse. He’d said it himself - he was guilty of a lot of things, but in all of the coverage you’d seen over the past week and a half, there had been no mention of anyone government or military being involved, aside from Billy and Lewis. He’s going to get blamed for everything, even the things he didn’t… Even Frank’s name had been scrubbed from the narrative; he’d saved the lives of two teenagers as well as Madani’s on the carousel, but after that, nothing. He can’t just… he’ll have to… “He said to help him.” You spoke out loud to your empty apartment, blinking away more tears. Billy had meant Frank, you knew that he had, but you didn’t know how to get in touch with him - and if you were being honest with yourself, didn’t know if you could face him, knowing what you did. I had no idea, I didn’t… You stopped in your doorway, looking back at the bed, and then looked down, realizing that you still had Billy’s dog tag in your hand, uncurling your fingers and finding that you’d been holding it so tightly that there were indentations left in the skin of your palm. I guess you had a preference, Billy. You just didn’t… you didn’t realize it until it was too late. 

 Taking a deep breath, you slipped the dog tag into your pocket, squaring your shoulders. Figure it out. He did. He … Your eyes landed on your phone, which was sitting on the nightstand, and you hurried back to it, picking it up. Who can I trust? You didn’t know where to begin; you’d never needed a lawyer, never been in trouble with the law, never had to think about what you’d do if you ever needed to defend yourself in public. There has to be someone, but… Leaving Billy’s laptop and everything else, you walked back into the living room, eyes moving over to the TV stand, where the pictue of you and Billy had been, though you’d moved it. That picture started it, it was… Shaking your head to clear it, you moved to the couch, perching on the arm and holding your phone. Focus. You didn’t even know what time of day it was; you’d been in a haze since you’d opened the box, but as your eyes wandered again to the TV stand, you pressed your lips together. It’s only noon, it’s the middle of the day, it’s what, a Friday? You unlocked your phone, opening the browser and took a deep breath before typing ‘criminal defense attorney New York City’ into the window and hitting search. 

 There were hundreds of results, and as you scrolled through them, you frowned. I can’t trust them, I don’t know if… they won’t take it seriously, they… You set the phone down, closing your eyes and rubbing your fingers over them. You were exhausted, and even though you’d been sleeping, your dreams were once again filled with Billy’s face, with his voice - and even though you had no clue what Frank had truly done to him, the dreams often featured Billy with injuries - scars and raised skin, bandages covering wide swaths of his face. You felt guilty - more guilty than you’d ever felt in your life, and you knew that you wouldn’t be over that feeling for a long time, especially not when you knew that Frank was still - “Frank.” You dropped your hands, picking your phone back up and typing again. This time, the search was more pointed - ‘Frank Castle defense attorney’ - and your eyes widened as you scrolled through those results. Matt Murdock and Foggy Nelson’s law office was known for taking on difficult clients, and the two men were also known for getting results. “Can they help me? Help...Billy?” You swallowed, eyes scanning the page and you gasped when you saw a name that jumped out at you - Karen. 

 Frank had mentioned someone named Karen when he was talking about Billy, and the fact that she was associated with the lawyers couldn’t have been coincidence. You remembered Curtis mentioning her, too, both men saying her name with reverance. She helped Frank, she… You closed your fingers around your phone, squeezing your eyes shut. If she helped Frank when he was accused of… she might… You knew it was a long shot - if she was invested in Frank’s wellbeing, she’d likely be hesitant to listen to Billy’s side of things without rushing to judgement. But she doesn’t know, none of them do. Your heart pounding, you backed out of the news article and typed the woman’s name into your browser. She’s a reporter. You took a deep breath, scrolling, and saw that along with her email address and the newspaper’s phone number, she had her extension specifically listed on her profile. That has to be… You swallowed, memorizing the four numbers and biting your lip. It’s a long shot. But it’s the only… it’s the only one I’ve got. 

 You started the call before you could question yourself again, taking a deep breath and repeating the extension number when a man answered. As you were transferred, you felt your heart in your throat, foot tapping against the floor rapidly. “Karen Page, New York Bulletin.” Freezing, you didn’t respond right away. “Hello?” You made a split second decision, closing your eyes briefly and then opening them, your eyes landing on the decorated tree in the corner. I have to do this. “Hello? Is there -”

 “Miss Page?” Your voice shook, and you paused, swallowing before you introduced yourself. “I… I think you can help me.” 

 “You’re…” She paused. “I know your name, you’re Billy Russo’s…” She stopped herself and you heard yourself laughing quietly. “I’m sorry, that was… how can I help you?” 

 “Miss Page… Karen…” Your eyes went back to your hallway, the corner of the laptop just visible. “I didn’t know who else to…” You fought to keep your voice even, trying to figure out the best way to continue. Just say it. “Billy Russo isn’t the person that you think he is.” You heard her exhale, but continued before she could say anything. “I have… I have some things I need to show … someone, anyone that can help, I…”

 “Why do you think I can help you?” Her voice was slightly colder than it had been previously, but you heard the interest in it too. “I don’t -”

 “You believed in Frank Castle.” She sucked in a breath loudly. “You knew there was more to it than what they…” Now or never. “There’s more to this, too.” There was a long pause. 

 “I’m listening.” You let out your own breath, which was more like a sigh of relief before you closed your eyes, nodding. That’s all I needed. 

--- 

 The next day, there was a knock on your door, and when you opened it, you forced a smile at the blonde woman, inviting her in. You hadn’t slept well the previous night and were nervous - not because you feared what Karen would say in response to what you showed her, but because sharing what Billy had left you was opening up the remnants of your relationship - of his life - to someone on the outside, someone with an allegiance to Frank. But she’s … I have to. “Hello, Miss P-”

 “Call me Karen, please.” She stepped into your apartment, shaking her had. “So many people out today, you’d think they would have gotten it all out of their….” She trailed off, noticing the confused expression on your face. “Yesterday… was Black Friday?” Karen cocked her head to the side, frowning slightly. “Day after Thanksgi…” You shook your head, brow furrowed. I didn’t even realize. I missed…  You watched her as she watched you, her eyes raking over your body. You’d showered, changed into clean clothes and made an attempt to improve your appearance, but knew that you still looked rough. “You love him.” She swallowed. “Still, even after -”

 “I do. And I owe him.” There was no shame in your voice, nothing but the truth in it. “And you’ll understand better once…” You gestured to your kitchen table, where the laptop was sitting, open and unlocked. “Before I show you what he left me, I need to tell you… do you want something to drink?” 

 Over the course of an hour, you filled Karen in on your history with Billy, starting with how you’d met and ending with the moment he’d left you for the last time the night of the fight with Frank. She’d listened, her eyes growing wide at certain parts of the story, but hadn’t interrupted, a pen held tightly between her fingers as she took notes. You were honest with her, telling her details that you wouldn’t have told anyone else, because you wanted her to know the Billy that you knew, the man that you’d fallen in love with. “And he left me a box, telling me it was the truth… but I didn’t open it, I couldn’t, because it felt like…”

 “Like moving on. Like… ending that part of your life, the part that was with him.” She spoke quietly and you nodded, watching as she set the pad and pen down on the coffee table, next to her empty beer bottle. “You opened it, though.” You nodded, recounting Frank’s visit to you a few days after the fight, followed by your trip to the hospital and the encounter with Madani. “I’ve met her. She’s… she saved Frank’s life, her and Lieberman, after…” You watched her eyes flash. “After he killed Rawlins, and again after he fought with…” Karen bit her lip and used her fingers to wipe beneath her eyes. She loves him. You felt a chill run through your body at the realization, but you knew that you were too far in to stop things. “He’s gone, he’s not in the city anymore, you know that?” I didn’t. “He left Madani to look after Billy, told her to call him if anything changed, said he’d come back if he needed to, but even… even after what Billy did to Frank, to his family, he didn’t… he couldn’t kill him.” Karen shook her head. “I don’t know how he… Frank’s a good person, but, Billy, he took -”

 “He didn’t do it because he wanted to.” You spoke quietly. “He never wanted to hurt them, never would have…” You met her eyes, feeling yours flooding with tears that you didn’t even try to hold back. “Rawlins gave Billy a choice, Karen. And I didn’t know it until I watched…” You gestured to the laptop, shaking your head back and forth. “Rawlins wanted Frank dead, not Maria and the kids. Billy thought…” You looked down and then back up at Karen, who was watching you silently, hands clasped together on her lap. “Rawlins told Billy that if he warned Frank, if he tipped him off in any way, that he’d…” Your jaw worked silently, but you only paused for a moment before continuing, saying the words out loud for the first time. “He said he’d kill me.” 

 --- 

 Karen had been on the phone moments after watching the first video that Billy had recorded for you, the woman pacing back and forth in your living room as she talked with somone on the other end of the line. “I need you to pack up everything - not the clothes, but the laptop, the other stuff, the papers… and you need to come with me.” Shocked, you’d nodded, slipping Billy’s laptop and phone into your own bag, adding in the paperwork and few envelopes along with it. By the time you’d finished, Karen was sitting on your couch again, head in her hands and her long hair hanging through her fingers. “We’ll figure this out.” She looked up at you, and you saw that her eyes were shining. “I trust Frank. He’d never… he’s never…” She shook her head. “But that didn’t seem like…” No, it didn’t. She stood, pressing her lips together and  then she crossed the room to you, putting her arms around your shoulders and pulling you close. Though you were surprised, you hugged her back, feeling a sense of comfort for the first time since Billy had walked out the previous week. “Matt and Foggy will know what to do, they’ll… Matt will be able to…” 

 So the two of you had taken a cab to Hell’s Kitchen, entering a large and open apartment. You recognized the man that opened the door as Matt Murdock, and though blind, he’d reached out for your hand before you could say a word, introducing himself. “Karen tells me you have a case...or what you think is a case?” He smiled at you, and out of habit you nodded, opening your mouth to speak. 

 “I do, Mr. Murdock, I -”

 “Matt. Call me Matt. If we’re going to be working on this, you should…” He led you deeper into the apartment, asking you to set up the laptop and play the video you’d played for Karen. You watched him with interest as he listened to Billy’s words, his face giving nothing away. It was one of the longer videos, but as Karen pressed the pause button at the end of it, you felt like it wasn’t long enough. “And he recorded that when, Karen?” 

 “The date of the file is from about a week before the Castles were killed, Matt.” She sighed. “I mean, we’d need to check it out, and make sure, but… the other videos, they all have dates that line up with things Frank told me, things that we looked into for his case and with The Blacksmith. I mean, it… there seems like there could be a lot of truth to it, and if…” She trailed off. “If there is, then this could get interesting, Matt.” She believes. 

 “Russo’s voice… he believed what he was saying.” Matt frowned, shaking his head. “He was genuinely upset.” You leaned in, reaching past Matt to open up the file from the day that the Castles had been killed, pressing play. Just keep going, that’s all you can do now. When that video ended, you glanced over at Karen, whose eyes were read, tears streaking down her cheeks. You were crying too, but you were spent, your body almost too tired to produce any real tears. “He really didn’t know.” Matt’s voice was filled with surprise. “That changes things. If there was proof that -”

 “There is. It’s short, but there’s a recording on Billy’s phone, I don’t know how he got it, but it’s…” You swallowed. “It’s Rawlins and Billy the day of the…” You pulled the phone out, going through it. “Rawlins tells Billy that there are men outside of where I work, and if anything goes wrong, if Frank isn’t there, or if he seems like he was tipped off, they’ll grab me when I go to lunch.” You pressed play, letting Matt and Karen listen. Some of the audio was garbled, since you assumed that Billy had had the phone in his pocket, but most of the words were clear.

 “Does R… Billy have a lawyer?” You told him you didn’t know, and Matt nodded. “We’ll look into it. They can’t try him, or even charge him with anything formally until he wakes up and they assess… his brain function.” You gasped and Matt continued. “It’s been all over the news, I’ve… kept up with it.” Of course you have. “We have time, but we can’t… we can’t let anyone know that this information exists, not until we go through it, and…” Matt sighed. “Karen, can I talk to you for a minute?” The blonde nodded, and Matt pointed at the refrigerator. “Help yourself, we’ll be right back.” They  walked slowly away and down the hall, and you turned the laptop to face you, staring again at Billy’s face, paused on the screen. I’m going to help you, Russo. Even if they won’t, I … A few minutes passed and then you heard your name, Matt stepping back down the hallway in front of Karen, who looked determined. “We’ll need to keep the laptop and the phone, it’s evidence. Once we can verify that things were created on the days that … that he says they were, we can move forward.” You agreed and Matt took a deep breath. “I still have to talk to Foggy, but… I think that we can help Billy, and maybe Frank, too.” 

 You felt yourself deflate, your knees growing weak. “You...you believe him?��� That time, your voice shook, and as you gripped the edge of the counter, you felt Karen’s hand on your back, heard her murmur your name. “I know you guys believe Frank, and you trust him, and…”

 “Frank’s entire… everything he ever did was to… was for the people he loved.” Karen shook her head, and for the first time, you noticed the faint scabbing on her face, the scar next to her lip. “If Billy really did that for you - and there’s proof? Proof that he…” She shook her head. “They’re going to try to bury him, and no one will ever know the truth if they have it their way. Sweeping what Rawlins and Bennett and Schoonover and Madani …what all of them did under the rug to save face?” Karen shook her head. “That’s not right, that’s not what .... Not what people like Frank and Billy fought for.” Karen nodded, her eyes clear. “I believe Frank. I believe that Frank did what he thought was right because of what they did to his family, but … but that doesn’t mean that I don’t believe Billy, too.” 

 “There’s a lot of work to do.” Matt spoke again, drawing your attention. “If Billy wakes up, we’ll need to be there almost as soon as Madani’s guy is, so we need to get to work on this.” You nodded, forgetting again that Matt couldn’t see it, but he grinned, continuing. “We need to go through all of these files, and start working on a strategy, figure out what we can…” 

 “Matt?” You swallowed, eyes moving back to the laptop. “If… if he doesn’t wake up, that laptop… the phone… it’s all… it’s all I have left of him, and it’s the only proof that he…”

 “We can make you copies of the videos.” Karen’s hand rubbed against your back, her voice quiet. “I’ll do that right away and get them back to you, just in case.” 

 “Yeah.” Matt cleared his throat, nodding his head. “It’s probably good to have backups anyway.” 

--- 

 Things moved quickly, and over the course of the next few weeks, Matt, Karen and Foggy worked tirelessly on the case, categorizing all of the information and printing things out, connecting dots. Karen’s position on the paper allowed her to dig into files and reports, getting them more information on the men that Frank - and Billy - had killed. It had only taken a few days for them to come to the conclusion that nothing on the phone or laptop had been fabricated, meaning that while the truth behind Billy’s words couldn’t be validated unless he woke up and remembered, he’d recorded and saved things as he went - not all at once, and not after the fact. It made you appreciate what he’d done for you even more, and it made you hate Madani and the government more, too. 

 Though you weren’t allowed in the room with Billy again, you visited him multiple times a week, sitting quietly in the hallway in a chair that faced his room, waiting for any sign of change. 

 Nothing happened - aside from the bandages on his face getting thinner, the bulk disappearing as the wounds beneath them healed. Madani was in the room with him most of the times that you were there, and while you couldn’t hear what she was saying, you watched as she spoke to him, the anger on her face and in her posture palpable. She’s going to try everything to … to ruin him. You kept it together, taking everything in, and reported back to Matt and Karen, letting them know if you overheard anything from Madani or the doctors, but it wasn’t until the beginning of the third week of December that they had to take action. 

 Billy’s court appointed lawyer had visited with Madani, and though you didn’t catch all of their conversation, you watched the man shake hands with her and heard him say that when Billy woke up, things wouldn’t take long to wrap up. I knew it. You texted Karen as soon as you left the hospital, and not less than 24 hours later, you received a message from Foggy, telling you that he and Matt had officially taken on Billy as a client, letting Madani’s team know that the court appointed lawyer would be replaced, pending Billy’s return to consciousness. You felt relief, but it was short lived, as the next time you showed up at the hospital Madani refused to speak to you, instead glaring at you as she walked by, going back into Billy’s room and blocking your view of the man by closing the blinds. 

 You weren’t allowed into the room - aside from a short visit on New Year’s Eve, something Karen had advocated for once she’d found out it was Billy’s birthday, but nothing changed with him. He was still out, still unresponsive, and even though you could see that he was healing - bruises and cuts fading from his arms, the doctors (and his own heightened senses) telling Matt that the other injuries on his body were getting better, too, you were beginning to worry that Billy wouldn’t ever wake up. 

 Even after the bandages came off, exposing the thick and jagged scarring on Billy’s face to the open air, he didn’t stir. You watched his chest rise and fall through the window, watched the monitors, eyes on the numbers, listened as much as you could to the doctors and nurses … and hoped. By the end of January, even Matt had said that things were changing, and he could almost hear Billy’s body as it healed, but he still didn’t respond - not to Madani, not to Detective Mahoney, not even to the medical staff, when they poked and prodded at him, examining him or manipulating his body so that he didn’t remain in one position. His arms and legs were thinner than you ever imagined that they could be, but they were nowhere near as thin as his face; Billy’s eyes sunken in, the raised and angry pink skin stretched tight over his skull. He looked nothing like the man that you knew, but that didn’t change the way you felt. This is because of me. Frank fighting him is because of me.

 While at work on a Tuesday in February, your phone rang, showing Karen’s number on the screen. You answered, unsure of why she was calling - but you didn’t have to wait long for the answer. Karen said your name, and at the sound, your grip on your phone tightened, chest growing tight. “He’s awake.” 

 You made it to the hospital in record time, and even though Karen met you at the front doors, you barely stopped until you were in the elevator, foot tapping on the floor. “Is he -”

 “I called you as soon as they called Matt.” She swallowed. “Madani’s been trying to get in there, I guess, but the doctors won’t let her, since Matt and Foggy are his legal council, and she’s not even technically supposed to be in the room.” I didn’t know that. “The cops will usually let her in, but if Mahoney’s here, she stays away, and now that he’s awake…” Karen shook her head. “You can’t go in, not yet, but maybe if he… if he sees you? Sees someone familiar that isn’t… her?” You nodded, nearly sprinting out of the elevator when the doors opened, but stopped in your tracks when you saw that Billy’s blinds were closed. That’s new. Madani was pacing in the hallway, her arms crossed and she swore when she saw you, rolling her eyes. “Agent Madani.” 

 Karen’s voice was frosty, and you and the blonde woman stopped in front of Billy’s door, waiting. “The lawyers are in there now, along with one of the -” Madani rolled her eyes. “You’re not going in there.” 

 “I know.” You eyed her, not saying anything else. It didn’t feel any different in the hallway, even though you knew that Billy was awake, but you could feel the anger rolling off of her, saw the way she was looking at you and Karen. “I -” Billy’s door opened and the officer stepped out, talking to Madani. 

 “He’s lawyered up. We can’t speak to him again unless they’re present, but the doctors also said that he needs some time to recover. He can’t -”

 “I don’t care. I want to see him now.” Madani pointed at the door, whch was still open a few inches. “I want to go in -” 

 “No. Agent Madani, we’ve allowed you to go in up until now, but there’s nothing we can do, both doctors as well as I heard him agree to let Murdock and Nelson -”

 “And Page.” Karen spoke up from next to you. “I’m a junior partner, we’re just waiting for my cards to come in.” She shrugged. “I’m on the team too, so I’ll have access to Mr. Russo.” Madani’s face turned thunderous, but the officer nodded. 

 “Murdock and Nelson and Page represent him, so unless one of them is present, you won’t be able to be in the room with him, and neither will we, except to guard the medical staff.” Swearing under her breath, Madani spun on her heel and stormed off, leaving the three of you - and the single guard outside the door - standing in the hallway. “Ms. Page, if you’d like you can join them in the room.” Karen nodded and squeezed your arm before she stepped away, slipping into the room and closing the door behind her. I just want to see him, I want to see him awake, I… “Take a seat, it might be a while.” The officer - one of the guards that you’d become familiar with sighed as you shook your head. “Suit yourself.” Minutes passed and then the door opened again, a doctor and a nurse leaving and shutting it behind them, walking down the hallway and  talking quietly between themselves. What is happening? What… You stared at the window, eyes unfocused, and then, after what felt like a long time had passed, you watched as the blinds rose, Karen’s worried face inches away from yours. She was blocking your view of Billy, and waited until you’d met her anxious eyes and nodded once to step to the right, letting you see him. 

 His head was turned to the side, looking away from you as he talked to Matt and Foggy, but after a few seconds, Billy’s head moved, even though it didn’t lift from the pillow. Oh, God. Things seemed to be happening in slow motion, your heart thudding behind your ribs as you watched him move for the first time in months. Billy’s head stopped, his cheek resting on the pillow, and you stepped closer to the window, staring at him, even though his eyes were closed. He finally opened them and you felt your eyes widen as you saw them through the glass - the same brown eyes that you’d gotten so used to staring into looking at you as if they didn’t see you at first. Billy it’s me. It… You watched as his eyes widened, eyebrows rising, and for the briefest moment, a flash of recognition went through them, his jaw twitching. Hi. But then it was gone, Billy’s brow furrowing as he kept staring at you. No… what… he doesn’t… Unwilling to give up, you raised your hand to the glass, pressing your palm against it and tilting your head to the side. Come on, Billy. It’s me. 

 For the span of a few seconds, you thought he was going to respond, but then Billy closed his eyes again, turning his head back toward Matt and Foggy. Feeling crushed but trying not to show it, you stepped away from the glass, dropping into the chair you typically sat in and putting your face into your hands. It doesn’t matter. He’s awake. He’s alive. Nothing else matters.

 ---

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[asbcblog]

TOP SONGS OF 2020 WRITE UP!

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/6WDeuRMOV8neAhU2zd193d?si=lZ9gDIp0TsCCEOeCS7_QGw

1. I remember everything - John Prine

I was going to write an incredibly earnest and long review of this song that outlined just how much John Prine meant to me. I can’t really do it and I think this song probably says enough alone. With only a few chords he always manages to express all the little things that make love what it is, all different kinds of love. Long lasting, short moments, love with places, sounds, going places and staying home, endless family ties, and the often fragile but in the end tenable love between all human beings in the face of catastrophe. The pandemic stole a lot of things from a lot of people this year, including John Prine, but he will remain one of the greatest songwriters of all time and his songs will live on forever.

2. Dream Palette - Yves Tumor

I can’t drive but let’s pretend I’m driving, I’m in LA and it’s night time or something, my elbow’s out the window, don’t know why I’m wearing sunglasses, this song comes on the radio, I’m the coolest person alive.

3. Boylife in EU- Yung Lean

Not to repeat my review of Garden but when the chorus comes I feel like I’m on top of a really big hill and its pouring it down with rain and im screaming but this time its because of a no-deal Brexit.

4. Garden- Joseph Futak

My review was already used as part of Joe’s promo campaign and it said: “feel like im on top of a really big hill and its pouring it down with rain and I’m screaming when the drums come in x x”

5. Circle the Drain- Soccer Mommy

I like this song because I too, am often alone in my room, and I have also become obsessed with subtle breakbeats to an extent where people around me have become very bored of the subject.

6. The Brothers William Said- The Innocence Mission

I listened to this song over and over when I was travelling round London in January just after my birthday, it felt like I’d been listening to it for years, like it was in a movie I’d forgotten. It felt at the time like I was saying a lot of goodbyes, recognising that things weren’t really like they used to be.

7. On the Floor- Perfume Genius

Say it with me ladies: I CROSS OUT HIS NAME ON THE PAGE!!!!

8. Shameika- Fiona Apple

She may not believe it but I bet Fiona Apple looked tough with a riding crop.

9. Song for Our Daughter- Laura Marling

Everything about this is fantastic, mellow and bright at the same time. Every part is brought forward individually and no part of this song gets left behind. A stunning vocal from Laura Marling and purposeful lyrics set to a cinematically emotive instrumental. Pure magic as always.

10. Building site outside- Piglet

Not going to lie, I was in a very vulnerable emotional state when I listened to this song for the first time, but I think that makes it no less powerful and just, sad. The lyric ‘she smiled at me so much last time’ is just so simple and devastating that you forget this would’ve been on every indie film soundtrack from 2000-2008 if Piglet was an industry plant.  

11. I wonder- Shamir

One word: EPIC

12. Crimson Tide- Destroyer

Listened to this every time I came on my period this year.

13. In the Dining Room - Joe Pera talks with you

Adam showed me Joe Pera when I really felt incredibly sad at the very beginning of this year. It’s a show that’s made me feel good, no matter the circumstances. This moment in the show made me smile, and I love hearing Gene come in a bit too early.

14. Stupid Love- Lady Gaga

Shakin my little booty in the kitchen to this x

15. Might bang, might not- Little Simz

Livid we didn’t all get to go to End of the Road and see all the hot dad’s loving Little Simz.

16. Fire- Waxahatchee

A truly insane vocal. I listened to this song on my way to work almost every day from September to December and fantasised singing back up at some kind of outdoor gig in the summer and it made everything significantly less bleak.

17. Hannah Sun- Lomelda

This song is too nice and genuine for me to say anything other than, “really lovely song :)”.

18. Scroll of Sorrow- Machine Girl, guayaba

Listened to this a lot this year while sitting on my kitchen floor staring into an empty oven, wondering if I was ever going to go to a party again.

19. Build a nest- Jeff and Ruby Parker

Have put this on in the flat because the guitar solo reminds me of everything my dad listens to at home. A really great piece of music that kicks off a really exciting album.

20. Kiss me thru the phone- That Kid

Ned said yesterday that he thought it was funny how much the original of this song is so foundational to hyper pop and I agree. Also I’ve started saying ‘Bitch’ like That Kid does every time I stub my toe.

21. Cuckoo- Sam Amidon

I am punting down a creek, looking in the branches that hang over the water for the bird that shall lead me to my next clue.

22. Places/ Plans- Skullcrusher

Used this song to comfort myself in moments where I also just don’t understand why I’m not famous.

23. Sweetjoy- Jam City

Finally….. HAIM for dudes.

24. Clean Living- Slow Weather

I saw someone listening to this on the side of my Spotify so I decided to give it a go and it was a fantastic decision. It’s mental that half of this song is an outro.

25. Summer All Over- Blake Mills

Along with the music video visuals and the dampened piano tone, this wins the competition for least summer-y song with the actual word summer in the title.

26. Ready Cheeky Pretty- CHAI

All of my joy this year has been brought to me by CHAI. I have nothing negative to say about CHAI. If you have anything negative to say about CHAI you’re gonna have to go through me.

27. Diaphanous- Land of Talk

This band was recommended to me by a guy I was trying to flirt with at rough trade east but everything closed before I could impress him by saying ‘I think they’re really cool’.

28. Anything - Adrianne Lenker

Anyone who has ever attempted to write a song with me knows how much I simply love rhyming. Seriously though, every thing rhymes, brilliant stuff. (It’s also such a brilliantly full and constant song that still manages to move and remain exciting from start to finish. I imagine this is partially due to Adrianne Lenker’s almost nursery rhyme- esque structure and also due to her beautifully colloquial approach to family dynamics.)

29. Blow- Dj Gigola, Kev Koko

This song makes me wish I was Jason Bourne- just wanna jump really far while something explodes behind me.

30. Money Can’t Buy- Yaeji, Nappy Nina 

‘Well I’ll buy some Yaeji tickets, they’re for NOVEMBER, there’s NO WAY they’re gonna get cancelled’.

31. Only the Truth- Johanna Warren

When I first listened to this song I felt like I was floating in the ocean looking up at the stars as the drums came in on ‘what more can I do’. An incredibly beautiful and careful song.

32. Gasoline- Haim

2020 could probably be summarised with the phrase ‘WHY AM I NO LONGER IN CALIFORNIA? WHY DID I LEAVE CALIFORNIA?’ And this song is the 3 minutes 13 seconds seconds of escapism I needed to not topple into a full spiral.

33. Mapuu - Ic3peak

No one can convince me that Ic3peak are real people. They are a collective made up of child ghosts.

34. Don’t Worry- Bladee

Whenever I have an anxiety attack in the night I wake up and see Bladee’s ghost of the future over my bed, he says ‘Don’t worry’ and mumbles for a bit as I fall back into a peaceful sleep.

35. The biggest tits in history- The magnetic fields

The most relatable magnetic fields song imo.  

36. Sand Castle- nijuu

Yujin is a genius and my answer is yes, I do want to just walk for a while.

37. Curl Up- Darren Hayman

Ned reminded me how much I used to love Darren Hayman, and both of them have been a pretty big part of my year.

38. When Will Death Come- Sarah Mary Chadwick

‘Wow, mental voice’ - Ned, while doing the washing up.

39. Dear Dad - Sylvie Wiley

‘But I didn’t cry, you’d be proud’ Sylvie, I’m weeping forever.

40. 34+35- Ariana Grande

Hehehehehehehehehe

41. Garden Song- Phoebe Bridgers

Phoebe Bridgers is a pretty unparalleled lyricist and this song feels like a disconnected series of thoughts that somehow all make sense together and come to create something that doesn’t build, but all just kind of sits? What I’m trying to say is that I don’t really know what she’s talking about but like, I get it.

42. Ringtone (remix) - 100 gecs, Charli xcx, Kero Kero Bonito, Rico Nasty, 

I love the way it sounds like everyone got just one take and had to improvise all the lyrics but it still bangs.

43. Changer- Andy Shauf

Thank you lord for another album about a smaller than average man overthinking all of his social interactions with lots of lovely clarinet parts.

44. What’s your pleasure - Jessie Ware

My pleasure jessie? Probably just sitting by the fire with a tough crossword and a glass of merlot x

45. Slime- Shygirl

Shygirl’s series of singles this year made me even more livid that I had to take out my eyebrow piercing for my new job this year.

46. Sears Tower- Salem

Perfect halloween release.

47. Title track- happyness

Ned turned to me and said: ‘so is their new thing that they sound like Elliot Smith’ and I said: ‘and that’s a bad thing?’

48. Cross-sound ferry (walk on ticket) - Hamilton Leithauser

Have found unbelievable joy in chopping veg and shouting GREEEEEEEN PORT, NEEEEEEWWWW YOOORK alone in my kitchen.

49. Lowswimmer- Hailaker

I’ve loved hearing Jemima’s voice when I haven’t got to see her much this year. I normally take the piss out of the Hambledon line but I haven’t seen that this year really either. I guess we find sentimentality in strange places.

50. XS - Rina Sawayama

This song made me feel very decadent on those days where I didn’t wash.

51. Emily- Clem Snide

Let’s be more kind and brave in the face of it all.

52. Building a fire- Bonnie ‘Prince’ Billy

P.O.V you’re doing bushcraft in the garden with your husband Bonnie Prince Billy and he’s here to protect you.

53. Asexual Wellbeing- Okay Kaya

This song absolutely bangs but I am truly bewildered by the way they singled out the line ‘if they could put a pulse into a spinach leaf, can they turn the two of us into a tree?’ in the production as if that was a true piece of genius. As I say great tune tho.

54. Anthems- Charli xcx

The soundtrack to couch to 5k

55. Never Better- Kitty Fitz

A SE London queen bringing us huge pop tunes in 2020. So so excited to see what 2021 brings us from Kitty, she’s gonna be a real force!

56. Deep in Love- Bonny Light Horsemen

This is such a delightful song which (mainly due to the time I actually got around to listening to the whole record) for me really rang in the spring. A beautifully recorded testament to the feeling of love getting stronger meaning you have a lot more to lose.

57. Malibu- Kim Petras

My song of the summer, made me feel like I was at the beach when really I was in Lewisham.

58. Like I’m Winning it- Girlpool

I’m so delighted that the turn girlpool have made this year is towards dramatic goth music with breakbeats. Their voices both sound amazing and they look simply incredible.

59. Azad- Frazey Ford

I have no idea what she’s saying as always but I love it.

60. Helio- Charlotte Dos Santos

I’m literally so excited for what Charlotte Dos Santos is gonna put out next. The production is fantastic and her aesthetics are flawless.

61. Lost in the Country- Trace Mountains

‘I checked my email twice as I cried’. Safe to say we’ve all been there this year amirite girlies x

62. Unfold You- Rostam

I hated this at first, I thought, what’s this lo-fi beats to study to shit, but it’s now my classic ‘I’m just gonna pop to the shops, anyone want anything? x’ song. Huge.

63. Oh Yeah- A.G cook

One of 2020s realisations is that me and A.G Cook kind of look like we could be cousins.

64. Can’t cool me down- Car Seat Headrest

I would like to personally thank will Toledo for giving me a tune that got me off my ass when I was too warm to do exercise this summer.

65. Take back the radio- Katy J Paerson

In love with Katy J Pearson’s voice and the way this song builds. Just pretty flawless and feel good in my opinion. I think she’s such an exciting new artist who’s gonna be around for a very very long time.

66. Good Woman- The Staves

‘I’m a good woman’… speak for yourselves.

67. A Little Love- Jack Francis

Feel like I’ve been singing this song for about 5 years! It’s amazing and I’m so excited about what Jack’s going to bring out in 2021, he’s a genius and also the nicest man on the planet.

68. Lullaby No.4 - Snailbeach

This song makes me feel like I’m being hypnotised on a haunted carousel in a very relaxing way.

69. Boyfriend in every city- Roma Radz

Sucks that she can’t see any of her boyfriends cos of covid :(

70. Jaja ding dong- Will Ferrell

Get back in there and play Jaja Ding Dong !!!!

71. Highway- Jonatan leandoer96

Man, would be pretty sick to have 20 boys outside the club but alas the clubs are dead and I’ve only regularly texted about 4 people this year.

72. De nadie- Kali Uchis

Felt v sexy listening to this for the first time in a Morley’s in Honor Oak.

73. Weird Fishes- Lianne La Havas

This album was a pretty triumphant return for Lianna La Havas and me teenage self simply couldn’t be happier.

74. Micro Creature- Aya Gloomy

Love that despite everything about this song telling me otherwise, that the artwork for this single looks like Aya Gloomy is just chilling in the fields by my family home in Hampshire.

75. Si Ella Sale- Bad Bunny

Better get on the duolingo now if I’m gonna know what this guy’s saying at Porto next year.

76. Through my sails- Mountain Man

Truly gentle reimagining of an already incredibly beautiful song, mountain man make every word seem new!

77.Christmas Day (get me outta this funk) - Baggio and Blue 5 Years- Bath days

In joint 77th place are two banging Christmas songs that have soundtracked a pretty bleak Christmas period and have made me feel pretty joyous in their ways, despite one literally being called Blue Five Years.

[mother-snake]

promised story 1-

(this one is an origional and first chapter to a book im going over at  the minuet, any constructive critisism would be nice and anything you liked about or didnt like would be good for me so i can perhapse change certain things in future!) -if you guys like it enough i might post the other chapters as i work along them. and if youd like, i can tagg you in!-

UNLOCKED: kurbose words: 3641 warnings: small fight thing happens at begining.

chapter 2-  n/a

chapter 1 -I will eat this sandwich; fate just has other plans.

At least crows don’t judge people for doing the bizarre things they do, I suppose. For example; the fact that I was sitting down on top of the rather worn-down churches roof that lay in the dead centre of the village, slowly turning into a town. Very slowly... I’d blame me getting up here on my habit of using my, not so useful, skill of getting into trouble; but in all honesty that excuse’ became unreliable since the tenth time I’d deliberately made my way up here. Not that I minded much.

Ten or so crows were lined on either side of me cawing loudly at one another trying to get closer, hoping that they could snag some of the sandwich I was eating. It had been wrapped up and stayed in my pocket since the morning. I had always left then in the early hours and barely came back until nightfall. the murder was slowly becoming more and more agitated as they looked at the sandwich with a keen eye.

lunch I had to skip due to them… I don’t mean the birds of course. not the birds. Never. Ever. blame the birds.

the night air was always calming. The stars seemed to look down upon me with a curious gaze, as if asking why I was still in the melancholy village. Living in such a boring place for years. sometimes it felt like hundreds of eyes were on me. that’s why I always sat on top of the roof. And when I did, I couldn’t help but feel a form of freedom I couldn’t get anywhere else. Mayhaps that was because I wasn’t supposed to be up there in the first place. Alas. We shall never know.

sure, some people would enjoy the normal life. Not worrying about what would be around the corner. But I I’m not like that, when it’s all you know. You’d wish for something to change.

I surveyed the area in my line of vision. It was slowly becoming dark enough that everything was blending together. But I could still see the outlines of everything. the sound of the canal that split the village up in sections was only a couple streets away.

I could recognise some of the people lined up by their houses getting the final things ready. And those who were wondering the streets were making their ways home. it was fairly easy to remember everyone in the town. No one really moved here, and if they did, they would mostly stay till they were old and grey.

One of the many people I could see from where I was is Miss hazel. I could see her picking some of the herbs and flowers for her medicines and potions. She was our physician much to many traveller’s surprise.

Then there was Mr. jackal who was sitting on his doorstep. A small wooden pipe in hand, a faint smoke ring coming from the pipe. Sometimes I felt that I’d never seen him going anywhere without it.

The brother and sister, Lawrence and Catherine were running after one another, up and down the street below. They were five and seven. Catherine being the eldest. She was very much a saint in many eyes. Learning how to climb into small places for things we had lost.

Her brother Lawrence had been practicing magic as far as anyone knew. He was getting better as the year continued to pass. He had started in early spring and not seemed to have stopped since. He had a wizard’s soul, that’s for sure. Only one in thousands seemed to appear.

Mrs. Evelyn was looking around the streets from one of her windows waving down to everyone, looking up and spotting me, I gave a quick wave back. I couldn’t hear her but I could tell she was laughing as a crow hopped up onto my lap and stole a slither of meat from my sandwich.

Sometimes it was nice to see a familiar face, but when you know practically everyone who walks the street daily. It can get rather boring, their conversations tended to repeat with nothing interesting happening most of the time.

I was cut from my thoughts by an annoyingly familiar clink of something hitting the roof grabbed my attention. I quickly wrapped my sandwich back in its paper bag and placed it into my cardigans pocket. I turned my attention to the gutter, a small sharp stone that hadn’t been there before laid on top of some moss.

The murder realising what was going to happen fluttered away in a frenzy, cawing in disarray. Not wanting to be caught in the stupidity that laid below me in the church garden.

Preparing myself as best as I could, I looked around and caught sight of the gargoyle sitting perched slightly off from where I was positioned. If I miss this, well… I either die or break my legs.

The gargoyle itself had a monstrous face, baring fanged teeth and its wings spread out, poised to strike. another rock landed near my position. deciding to take the risk, I pushed myself slightly in the direction of the beast. landing with a small thud behind it, I let out a breath. Two more stones were thrown in my direction, the sound of them rolling onto the gutter caused me to flinch.

They were too close. One thing I could say is that the people below were getting better at their aim and way of throwing.

There was a slight warmth coming from the gargoyle, they were in hibernation. They would remove the stone shell around them late into the spring most likely. But they were still aware of what was happing around them. “sorry Mr gargoyle, I hope you can forgive me for using you as a shield…again,” I muttered as I sat behind it. it was hard to keep myself completely hidden. My height being the main reason. Why on this planet did I have to be one of the tallest people. Why? What reason was there for someone to be over six feet? What reason was there?

A couple more stones landed on the roof. I grumbled to myself and peaked over the wing, trying my best to be as careful as possible.

A rock soared over my head causing me to duck slightly. A small part of me was proud. That was the closest they’d gotten in a long time. After all this had been a weekly routine for a while now. A bit inconvenient when trying to eat. But at least it kept my somewhat self-preservation skills usable.

A small cackle came from down below. I rolled my eyes. If only they were as smart as their egos. Their rich snobbish attitudes had been like this for years.

“is poor goliath too scared to come down?” Jonathan yelled; the noise being muffled by the distance. “sorry! It’s not my fault I’m allergic to social interaction” I hollered back; I peeked back over the wing, slightly thankful for the small heat it gave off the cold winter air biting my exposed skin. Wearing knee length shorts in winter is not advised for a reason. That’s the joy of being a dysfunctional mess such as myself.

Anyways, as I peeked over the first thing, I could see was his obnoxiously blonde hair, it was almost three shades close to white. I would have easily called it fake if it wasn’t for the fact that I hadn’t grown up with him. the blonde hair was held in a ponytail today.

My eyes also caught sight of the two figures standing either side of Jonathan. Both recognisable by the way they looked. the ginger on his left was always known for her seemingly endless collection of silk blue dresses. Each one would have cost my family a year’s worth of food.

Then the boy on his right was a lavante, he had been one of the few to move here. His species are known for the fact their basically living lava, skin ossified by the oxygen. His eyes were pools of red lava. His hair was like living fire. the older they got, the bluer their hair became.

He looked a bit conflicted to what they were doing. He always did. We were mutual friends. He gave a weak smile and waved. To be honest I forgot his name years ago… too late to ask now.

“you’ll come down eventually!” blue dress screeched as she readied to throw a stone in her hand.

“you underestimate my pettiness, I've got food in my pocket, I could stay up here longer that you could down there!" I yelled back; my pettiness was something barely anyone was able to match.

Seeing her pull her arm back to throw, I ducked myself behind the wing one more time. soon one after another, a barrage of rocks was being thrown my way. one sailed over my head; I could feel the air move as it ruffled my hair. It rolled down and landed by my foot. I picked it up and threw it back as possible.

I looked down to my other pocket. reaching in I pulled out a bronze pocket watch. The lid had long since came off, according to my dad it was the day he met my mother. I chuckled to myself as I remembered the story.

 “what on earth do you think you’re doing?!” I sighed in relief as the voice of the father reached my ears; even if the malice in his voice sent small shivers down my spine.

Is wrath being something to fear. They could try anything they wanted. But as soon as the father got involved then they were very much screwed over.

I tuned out the shouting down below me, sitting in a better way that made my lanky legs sigh in relief. I looked into the gargoyles eyes and mouthed a quick thank you.

As the noise went silent, I looked over the wing to see them walking away out the garden and back to whence they came, a wave of ease flooded over me. At least I would be home in time. Hopefully.

I stood up, stretching and listening my bones crack as I did so. Clapping my hands together I turned around and climbed back onto the top of the roof struggling to get a grip as I did so. I shakily stood up, trying to balance myself in hopes I didn’t fall over.

I walked over to the edge of the building, I crouched down and grabbed the rope I had long ago tied to the building. holding on as tight as possible, knuckles going white in the process, I swung my body over the edge. The rope swayed from the motion. I wrapped my legs around the rope, hoping and praying I didn’t mess this up. taking a deep breath, I let slightly let loose of the rope. Gravity swiftly dragging me down, the rope slightly burning my skin in the process.

I quickly held onto the rope tighter as the ground came too close for comfort. it was that moment father Francis turned the corner. I gave a nervous chuckle as my body hung in the air. “what are you doing,” he groaned. “you know, just hanging around,” I responded, getting a smack on the back of the head causing me to spin slightly in the air.

Planting my feet firmly on the ground, I stood up and rubbed my hands on my shirt, getting rid of the small amounts of dust and mud that clung to them.

He began to walk away, waving for me to follow. I jogged to keep up as best as possible. He didn’t say much anymore. But he was one of the best people in my mind. before he had joined the church, he had been working in the north. He had been one of my inspirations growing up. the stories he told about dragons and monsters he had seen had filled m wonder and desire to see what was beyond here.

People would joke around that the reason he had grey hairs was because of me. I didn’t blame them really. “sorry about that father Francis… again…” I sighed as I averted my gaze. he let out a small chuckle and patted my back, “only a gentle giant like you could hie instead of bashing them in,” he gestured for me to begin moving, “only you goliath.” “why won’t you let that die?” I muttered. he let out another laugh. “I’ll walk you back to your home, make sure you dad knows that they were back again,” there were very few things that could make me shiver, but having my family know about this was one of them. “or, you don’t tell them?” he only gave a deadpanned look in response. I wasn’t getting out of it.

It withing a minuet we were out the garden and onto the streets. The greys and browns of the buildings seemingly blending together in the darkness. we walked in silence turning when needed. The sound of the canal getting closer. brass lamps were lined neatly on each side of the streets. Fireflies the size of a grown adult’s hand laid inside, buzzing away to one another. the people in their homes slowly turning of their lights in hopes of falling asleep. I’d never understood why it was always this time of night that they locked everything up. weather it was a habit or just a bizarre timing factor.

I reached up to my hair and pulled down the bobble keeping my hair up in a simple ponytail. My brown locks dropped down to my sides. I ran my hands through my hair grumbling. I stumbled for second after tripping on a rock. Barely stopping myself from tumbling over.

 The darker and closer we got to my home; the more noises filled the air. Small neon bugs lit up houses and other buildings. Small mice with glowing whiskers would scuttle past us as quickly as possible. The vibrant colours would almost leave a blur in their trail, making them easy to spot in the dark.

Small groups of night birds flocked around piles of litter left by merchants that had been wandering the streets. Nibbling or defending pieces of food, or guarding small shiny things they found on the ground. Like children defending their own things.

So much happened in the night, so much happened and I only get to see a portion of the neon lights, I wished I could have seen more sometimes.

Soon we were out of the main village turning town and making our way down a mud and stone covered path towards the farm.

 Soon enough, but not long enough to gather my thoughts and mentally prepare myself. we arrived at a metal gate surrounding what looked like a nearly collapsing house. I stepped forwards and opened the rusty gate, the hinges creaking with the movement. I had been needing to oil them for a while and had been putting it off for around two weeks now.

The house looked barely liveable. The roof looked both old and new in patches. the chimney looked cracked and ready to fall on the house. the porches roof looked close to caving in as well.

But sill it was home. I took a deep breath and made my way forward towards the door. Hoping with every fibre of my being they were all asleep by now for the sake of my sanity.

As I got closer, the porch light flickered before turning on completely and giving off a small hum. A small dread filling up. the light could only be turned on from the inside after all.

I quickly checked the time on the pocket watch. Oh… I was late. Not too late, but just enough that I was going to get chewed out at most.

The door swung open. A figure walked out and stood in the doorframe with an icy glare directed at me. “where have you been?” yeah, I wasn’t going to survive. the figure let out a sigh, “come in, you will have some explaining to do whilst Eric gets you both some tea.” “sorry for being late…again miles,” I chuckled as I rubbed the back of my neck.

He steppe bac and walked into the house. I let father Francis go in front of me as we made our way inside. I would have taken my shoes of if I had worn them today. I gave a small weak smile to Francis. If it were my dad that we had been greeted with he would have to only stay for five minutes. The twins on the other hand were another story… they had been like this for as long as I could remember. They had always been protective of me. I was sixteen. Yes, it was strange but the reason behind why they were so overprotective is a story for another time.

The entrance was small. Barely able to fit the three of us. Miles made his way up to the first couple steps on the staircase to give more room. I looked to the right; the lights were off witch was probably to save energy. I made my way into the left room. The fireplace warmed up the room, relaxing my body compared to the cold nipping air that was outside.

There was a figure identical to miles, the only difference being their hair partings. They had both their own unique skills, that was one other way to tell their differences.

The cardigan that I was wearing was knitted by Eric. It was at that moment I remembered what was in its pocket. I quickly reached down and pulled out a slightly squashed paper wrapped sandwich and sighed, putting it on the kitchen table that was one wrong move away from losing a leg.

The door at the back of the room shuttered. Looks like it was going to be a long night. the room was slightly crammed, but I didn’t mind that much.

Pulling out a chair and sitting down, I looked over to where the twins were arguing silently. miles had his parting on the left, the smaller part was cut off, it was the same for Eric except with his parting on the right. their hair was an inky black. they glanced over in my direction as I took a bite out of my crushed sandwich.

Red and green heterochromia. One eye green, the other a blood red.

“so, what are you two thinking about?” I said before taking another bite. “why we put up with your antics every day,” miles deadpanned at me. “you love me. That’s why,” I grinned as they sighed. “you’re ten minutes late Charlie, where have you been,” a voice forms the entrance. I looked up to see a scruffy looking man and grinned, “hey pops. And I think the pocket watch may be on the fritz again if that’s the case. It says I should be on time.” “either way, may I ask why the father is currently in our home? Again.”

“Jonathan and the other two again, I simply came to make sure she got home safely instead of running off.”

 They began to talk, leaving me to my own devices. The sandwich that had only one or two more bites worth lay on the table. A half-drunk cup of tea next to it.

Standing up and cracking by back, I made my way past the gossips and made my way to the living room. The light now on as dumbass one and two sat on the floor with cards.

Falling on the sofa backwards, the two who were absorbed in their game gave a little squeak and flung back. I let out a chuckle and stared at them with a curious look as the grumbled curses and words that would put sailors to shame.

“so, what has caused you to grace us with your company?” “if you were in the room with those two gossips, you would leave after a while too.”

Eric laughed and reached his hand over to the small wooden table in the middle of the room. “shift over goliath,” Eric muttered pushing me up. I swung my legs from the arm of the sofa and crossed my legs as I felt a pair of hands running down my hair before getting caught in a knot.

“I swear your hair is worse than ours on a good day,” he groaned before he began to brush my hair. “you do know I could do this on my own, right?” I said. “yeah, but it’s not like I’ve got much else to do in the first place.”

It was another fifteen minutes before I heard the noise in the kitchen slowly rise into the room. the three of us looked between one another with concern. They hadn’t fought before as far as we knew.

“she can’t know!” the voice I could clearly tell was my dad yelled. “she needs to know sooner or later, the sooner the better.”

I stood up from the sofa and slipped into the hall and peaked my head into the room. I could see my father’s face, eyebrows knitted together and eyes glaring at the father. His knuckled white from gripping the cup.

“look, I get why you don’t want to. But all your doing is speeding up the inevitable.” “I know… I’ll tell her soon. I promise.”

I walked into the room and locked gaze with my dad, “or you could tell me now instead of hiding it.”

“how much did you hear,” his face paled. “enough.”

[blondecarfucker]

Bed of Roses (1988 Special)

Roger Taylor x Reader BoRhap!Roger Taylor x Reader

Fic Summary: It's 1971. You just moved to London to study, and you find a band on a local pub after a bad date. The encounter doesn’t go the way you expect it, and neither does what follows this evening as you try to deal with loving Roger Taylor.

Fic Note: So I’ve had this story in my head for the last three weeks and finally decided to write it down. It’s completely planned. It will have 21 chapters and it’s divided in three acts: Dusk, Night and Dawn. It’s will be a bit angsty in the future, and it will most likely have some smut as well. I hope you guys enjoy it! Tell me what you think about it in the asks/comments/messages. If this is your first time stumbling upon Bed of Roses, thank you for stopping by! The rest of the story is in my masterlist, the link is in my bio - can't put the link here or else the post will disappear from the tags.

Chapter's notes: so this is not even a real chapter??? i mean, it doesn't have a number - it's really a reallll epilogue, you really get to know what happen in the eleven years that follow the end of the story. this wasn't really on my outline - i just kept thinking about the characters cause theyre SO CUTE and DESERVE THE BEST and im an absolute softie so i couldnt help but write this. its probably a bit messy cause im tired atm but im happy i wrote this and i want to share it with you guys already. im curious to know what you guys think about it! - also, just making it clear, there's no story for a sequel, so there's no sequel coming. just so you guys know. thanks again for stopping by and reading my story and being AMAZING. im a bit rusty i guess so sorry about the size of the chapter

Words: around 2.8k

1988

You heard Roger hitting the drums as you opened the studio door.

"Hey, Y/N", Freddie said, coming to hug you. "It's your man recording", he told you, and you nodded.

"I see", you answer, and Jim comes closer to Freddie and says hello to you. You really like the way they feel at ease with each other - it just looks natural. It's been long ever since you saw Freddie so peaceful.

But Roger soon showed up in your field of vision, having just left the recording booth. "Babe, it's so good to see you", he said, hugging you by the waist. "Good seeing you too, Rog. What are you guys recording?, you ask, and Deacy answers.

"It's 'Rain Must Fall', just wrote it with Freddie", he says, as Freddie listens to Roger's recording.

"It's still not right", he says, and Roger sighs. "Be right back", he tells you, going inside the booth.

Now that you're paying attention, you realize it's latin percussion. "This is really nice", you tell Freddie, and he smiles. "Thanks, darling. How's the museum? Did it fall apart after you spent a month away?", he asked, and you laughed.

"Actually, they've been holding up quite nicely", you say, referring to the period you've just spent with them in Montreux. "They're getting used to it, I suppose", and he nods.

You and Roger have been taking turns the last decade on who's gonna spend time along with the other, but now, after you've got your PhD and was promoted to Senior Curator, your job could be done without official office hours, so you've been following Roger around a bit more - which is nice, especially when he's in Montreux, such a calm place you thought about retiring there, in the future.

"And this outfit, too, I love it. You look like such a serious business woman" Jim said, pointing to your tailleur. "I have to look the part, Jim", you shrug, and Brian laughs. "I miss your yellow Chuck Taylors days, Y/N", he says, and you laugh. "These shoes are killing me, so I do, too", you tell him.

"I won't invite you to dance, then", Freddie said, and you frowned. "Please do, Freddie. You know how I love these latin inspired songs of yours", you pouted, and Freddie laughed, extending a hand to you.

You could feel Roger's eyes watching you through the glass as you danced with Freddie. Rain Must Fall reminded you of Cool Cat, and even though the Hot Space days, in 1981 were complicated, it reminded you of an afternoon with Roger on a yacht on Lake Geneva, the two of you drinking mimosas and sunbathing as Montreux glimmed under the Riviera sun.

"God, I hate this fucking song", Roger said, sipping on his mimosa.

"It's not the best", you agreed, and he laughed.

"This fucking album, I swear to God. If it wasn't for you here, I would've dropped this", he said, and you got up to prepare another mimosa for you.

"Don't say that, Rog. You wouldn't drop the band", you said, and he sighed.

"You're right. But I would drop this album, though. This song, even - I didn't take part in anything regarding the production. I just watched, like you watch a car crash", he says, and it's your turn to laugh.

"You're so dramatic", you tell him, mixing the orange juice and the champagne. "But seriously, babe. Do you even like the songs we're making now?", he asks, and you take a sip of your drink.

"I like Under Pressure", you say, and you're happy to see his face lighten up as he laughs. "Of course you do. I'm impressed you didn't ask Bowie for an autograph yet", he said, and you laugh along. "I have to stop myself from fangirling every time he's around, you know. It's pretty hard, but I do my best not to embarass you", you told him, sitting by his side.

His sun kissed skin made his eyes even brighter than usual - like lapis lazuli on bronze.

"Like I try not to embarrass you by looking stupid when we're on one of your fancy dinners?", he asks, hugging you by the side. "Exactly", you told him, pressing a quick kiss on his lips. He tasted like orange.

As you now kept dancing with Freddie, Jim pulled Deacy for a dance too, and eventually everyone was dancing to Roger's percussion. Each had a different level of success, and you were trying to help Brian when Roger finished his part.

It made you happy to have moments like this. After A Kind Of Magic, in 1986, the band was fighting constantly - it made you sad to see such thing. Roger even created a side band, The Cross, and he worked with them for a while before reuniting with Queen for this new album.

You were always a huge fan of his solo work, but you never connected with The Cross - and you felt like he didn't, either. They never really challenged him, and anything only gets better after receiving honest feedback.

But now Freddie wanted to produce again with the rest of the band - as much as they could, non-stop. They wouldn't even tour after this album, The Miracle. You felt like Roger knew exactly why these changes happened, but he didn't share them with you. You didn't really mind - it was not only his privacy, but the privacy of the rest of the band members. The fact that he was trustworthy enough to keep his friend's reasoning behind a polemic decision private only made you love him more.

"Babe", Roger called, walking over to you. You hugged him, his known smell now more refined, cologne mixed with the patchouli and substituting the cigarette smoke - you both quitted smoking, since you heard it could be harmful for little ones.

"The kids are with their nanny, right?" Rog asked you, and you nodded.

It was 1982 when you realized you couldn't keep your breakfast - you vomited every morning, almost religiously, twenty minutes after you ate.

Roger was immediately concerned on the phone - you spent two weeks in Mexico for work, and it was only when Roger spent a weekend there at the end of your trip that he told you not to drink the tap water. So you were both convinced you had some parasite, and Roger took you to a doctor - he liked to spend time with you when you were both in London, even in boring activities, since you still lived in separate flats, always trying to take it slow - even though you felt like a teenager when you had to pack to stay a weekend at your boyfriend's house - and you considered talking to Roger about moving in together again.

The doctor soon realized there were no parasites inside you, but there was a baby - a 3 months old little boy, in fact, as the doctor confirmed after taking you two to the ultrasound room.

You could never forget Roger's face once he understood what the doctor told the two of you. He was going to be a father.

But the realization that you were going to be a mother took a little longer to hit you. It was only when you heard the baby's heartbeat that you really understood what was going on inside you - a baby. Your baby. Roger's baby.

Proof that you were together, proof that you belonged to each other, that you loved each other.

"This is the most beautiful sound I've ever heard", Roger told you, and you smiled in agreement.

Nine months later, Apollo was born.

You agreed on Apollo because you always thought about how Roger reminded you of Apollo, and it did remind you of New York, too - the Apollo Theater was a landmark only a couple dozens streets above the apartment you grew up in.

But Apollo was much more like you than he was like his dad. He inherited his dad's dirty blonde curls, but his eyes were just like yours, and so was his personality - he was very determined, liked to be alone, and a full blown nerd. He taught himself to read when he was four, and now, at age 6, he liked to read The Hobbit by himself.

He didn't speak with an English accent, oddly enough, even though he was raised in London - he spoke water like his dad, but copied your accent in every other word.

Roger would hold him and hug him and always spend time with "his little guy", always telling him how proud he is to be the father of a genius, and Apollo's cheeks would be flushed pink, just like yours did when Roger told you how smart you are.

When Apollo was born, you both agreed to move in together into a big family home, but you filled the walls with artwork and tapestry, and Roger made sure there was always good music playing - it didn't feel like you were abandoning your old selves to become parents; it felt like a natural step.

And for financial reasons - mostly to protect Apollo and to make taxes easier - you and Roger decided to get married. He tried to play the practical part, reaffirming marriage was just a title and the two of you were way beyond that, but you knew, deep down, that he was incredibly happy to get on his knees and propose.

It was a simple ceremony in 1984 - close friends and family under the hawaiian sunset, the Lana'i Island's atmosphere made you feel like you were in a dream. With a simple cotton white dress, you reunited with Roger - in a half open, white cotton button up - in front of a licensed marriage performer, and you became Ms Taylor.

Roger used any excuse to call you Ms Taylor, savoring the name on his tongue just like he did with your lips on honeymoon.

Apollo was 2, and stayed with his grandparents for a week as the two of you enjoyed your honeymoon on paradise. "It's funny how this is like, the millionth time I feel like I'm on honeymoon with you", you tell Roger, and he pouts. "If you consider honeymoon everytime we go somewhere amazing alone and keep fucking like teenagers, then yeah. But this is special. This feels more… I don't know. Official", he said, and you agreed.

And all that young love had a result - you soon found out you got pregnant again after a routine blood test. Roger was, again, the happiest man on Earth.

You felt calmer this time around - a kid and responsibilities didn't ruin your relationship with Roger the first time around, and you were actually pretty good parents.

So when Live Aid came about, you were huge - you enjoyed the many performances, but when Queen was onstage, it felt different. You could remember when, almost fifteen years ago, you saw these guys broke, rehearsing and travelling around in a van.

Now they were here, and in a day filled with performances from stars, they shined the brightest.

You don't know if it was all the emotions you felt watching them, but once you finally got home, the sun about to rise - Apollo long asleep - you sat down to prepare a warm bath for the two of you, but you felt something warm running down your legs. Your water broke.

You and Roger ran to the Hospital, and after a few hours, Artemis was born.

She screamed, not cried, once she first looked at you and Roger, almost annoyed - like she was sad she missed the show.

Artemis was a logical name choice - Apollo's twin in greek mythology - but the kid also got her strong will. She looked just like her father, big, round blue eyes and pink, full lips soon learned to express what she desired and complained when things seemed wrong in her perspective.

At the early age of three and with a reduced vocabulary, she convinced the two of you to get the smallest drum set you could find, and she tried to repeat her fathers movements on it, still too small for her tiny kit, but proud of the loud noises she made, hitting it recklessly.

Roger looked at it as if he was seeing a miracle.

The kids were raised primarily in London, but they spent some time in Montreux, when the band was recording, under their father's care, or on tour when you could stay with them - tour made the kids so confused about their whereabouts that it needed a conjoined effort - but now that the band was recording in London with no plans for long periods away, it was going to be interesting.

Apollo was just getting started in school, and soon it would be Artemis turn. They still had no dimension of their fathers - or their "uncles" - importance, but you and Roger talked about this, waiting for the day you'd have to explain your life for the kids, who you were before you were their parents.

You wondered if Apollo would think back on the time he went to dad's work and he was dressed as a woman - he couldn't recognize Roger when he was Rogerina while recording the video for I Want To Break Free until he took his wig off.

It was a better reaction than John's kids had, screaming in fear of the old, scary and tall lady that tried to pick them up.

The latest video recording was incredibly sweet, actually - it was for The Miracle, the single, and the band was going to be interpreted by 11 year olds. The kid that played Freddie was absolutely brilliant, mimicking all of his signature moves.

But it was the kid that played Roger who stole your heart.

As you watched the tiny Rog rehearse, you couldn't help but imagine Artemis hitting her drums - maybe in a few years, she'd be able to actually play something.

You also thought about Apollo, how he'd look like an even younger version of Roger if he was sitting on the stool, bouncing his curls and pouting in concentration.

You really loved the life you lived now, and when you looked back to all the drama that went between you and Roger so you could get here - two happy, fully realized people; and two great parents - you'd do it all again.

You kept thinking about it as the kid rehearsed Roger's part in the song, until you felt a familiar smell fill the air around you, and an arm snaking around your waist.

"Hello, beautiful stranger. Are you lost?", Roger whispered, his husky voice still able to give you chills.

"I am, actually. I can't find my husband, and I came here just to see him before work", you said.

"How did he get so lucky to have you?", he asks, and you turn around to kiss him.

"Actually, I'm his good luck charm", you say, pulling him closer to you.

He was ready for the shoot, so you felt bad when you broke the kiss and realized you transfered part of your lipstick to his lips.

"Shit, your makeup artist is going to kill me", you say, trying to wipe it away.

"It's fine", he says, kissing you again. "So I'm picking Apollo from school today, right?", he confirmed, and you nodded. It would always amaze you how you found your own level of responsibility, of the feared and dreaded domesticity, without losing the passion you had for each other. Taking it slow.

But now, back in the studio, you said goodbye to everyone, and followed Roger to a limo.

You always had your nights out - nights where you'd stay in a fancy hotel room just for the sake of being together in different ambiances. You two learned from your trip to Paris how it makes you more in love with each other, the new place making you fonder of what you know and love - in your case, Roger.

So when he popped open a bottle of champagne while you undressed, and once you were only in your lingerie, Roger took his own shirt off, knowing to pass it to you - a ritual, really.

You both went out, relaxed and comfortable, and enjoyed the view.

The Thames was below you, and you could see the entire city - if you tried, you could point where the bar you first met was, and Kensington Marked, and the first flat you shared. London was a huge part of your story.

"Let's make a toast", Roger said, and you nodded. "To what?", you asked, but you knew the answer.

You've been together for almost twenty years, now, so it's normal for you to know what to expect from Roger. But it doesn't feel boring - it feels like home.

"Us", he says.

-

Taglist: 

@taylorroger-s @sarai-ibn-la-ahad @its-nessi @anamcg317 @frenchieswiftie @queen-danielle-dani-dan @minihemo @shutup-sorry @theyrealllegends @killerqueenisthebest @ashagracelove @hardy-s @fuckinghurricanesoul @secretsweetscollectionblog @mrswinterhater @11mb0 @tamtam-go92 @derptatosaur @brianandthemays @phantom-fangirl-stuff @the-hysterical-queen @rogerofmylife @notevenlxvely @discodeakyy @x1975sos @16wiishes @jennycidesstuff @partydulce @melros-e @onevisionliz

[the-little-prophet]

BDRP Questionnaire 2019

Posting this on Charlie since I actually talked about him quite a bit! Let’s gooooo

Characters: Berlioz, Hades, Kiara, Nala, Andrina, Merida, Charlie, Apollo, John, Su, Ashleigh, Nemo, Jun

Pick one of your characters and talk about their growth (we recommend choosing an older character, but it’s up to you!) What about their story has surprised you? What are you proud of? How have they changed from their original inception to now?

This one goes out to Charlie. I pitched Charlie very deceptively-- claiming he was a prophet, aligning him, at first, with Calliope, making it look like Charlie’s magic was of the classical, Cassandra-inspired kind. But all along, I knew that what I wanted Charlie to be was more of this sci-fi/fantasy blend as an homage to his movie’s sci-fi bend too. This year, I got to actually reveal that Charlie is a time traveler after two years!! This is very exciting for me! I’ve enjoyed being able to lean into Charlie’s new image systems with this reveal, even though I’m out of my depth and breaking like 67 different time travel rules, probably lol. Still, it’s been great to take him to that place, and to invent Future-Charlie as both a deux ex machina and an expression of identity/choice/free will etc etc. I did not have Future-Charlie in mind when I created Charlie, so that was something I was proud of coming up with!

Pick another character and talk a little about where you WANT them to go. What are your plans for them going into the new year?

I’m going to talk about Nemo if only because everyone else feels like a spoiler lol. Nemo, as a relatively new character though, is still full-speed-ahead on his initial goals that I outlined for him in his application. Now that Nemo’s been established in the school and he has this little group of buddies, I want:

To focus on his wing. I want Nemo to push himself, get himself in a spot of trouble, potentially injure himself.

Reveal his wings to at least one mundus friend

Continuing to infuse his posts with body image issues. This is a slow build kind of plot that really is like...the broth of Nemo’s plot-soup, lol, while training for his placement is the chicken and belonging at school is the noodles….it needs to be this throughline more than like, para a, para b, para c. at least for now.

Pick a thread or a plot that you’re proud of and talk about why you loved it.

I could pick a lot of threads here lol it’s honestly so HARD. But I think I want to shout-out to the Charlie/Jim first kiss thread because it surprised even me and Hannah. We initially planned for the first kiss to be just that-- one kiss, then we done, Jim and Charlie go on to be friends. But like in the best of cases, Jim and Charlie’s palpable chemistry actually informed more of Charlie’s arc and opened up avenues previously closed to me/Charlie since Charlie had been so SHUT to the idea of love. So! I really loved that thread. Also because like, I literally made Charlie experience the big bang after his first kiss. And THAT’S the BEST way to use magic in my opinion. Like when you can infuse magic with an emotional catharsis-- I think the other time I did that super well was similar actually, when Herc kissed Kiki’s cheek and she grew a tree in his room lol. So yeah! Some of my best writing in that thread, amazing chemistry, big surprises. It was an absolute pleasure.

In terms of your own writing, identify 1-3 strengths and talk about why you think it’s one of your strengths.

-Image systems. I dragged myself for this, but I think it’s something that really helps me find a character’s voice and make myself excited to RP them! Also, I think it’s what people like about my writing sometimes. Maybe. IDK, lol. -Complex Emotion: I’m stealing this from my mentor who said I’m good at creating complex emotion and so you know its true. My most introverted characters get the bulk of this naturally--they are introspective and feely and give themselves the space to think and feel. But I really want to try to inject more into my extroverted characters. I think I’m doing well for Nemo, who had undiagnosed anxiety and so that informs a lot of his personality in very interesting-- very OPPOSITE-- ways as Berlioz; Nemo struggles with being alone because ‘alone’ means he gets too in his head. That’s been really fun for me and why he’s quickly become one of my fave voices to write (I know, u all thought it was because I am in love with Jimin (true), but no its bc Nemo is an anxious, big feeling baby and he’s always so Alive to me, plus i was made to write a fairy it was always my destiny.)

In terms of your own writing, identify 1-3 areas of improvement.

-Dialogue: PERSONALLY I feel like I’m not great at dialogue. Some posts are better than others and I think I’m good at like…..texting dialogue? IDK. I feel like I struggle in paras though to craft good dialogue. It’s just, rn, average dialogue. Of course not every post needs to have hilarious, punchy, great dialogue. But do my characters sound different? Am I doing all I can to create rhythm and speech patterns? -Filtering: Im being very picky rn, because actually I don’t do this too much, but I do it enough where I’m like, I gotta go read some really stellar writers adn ban myself from using “Feel” and “think” for like a whole month. What I’m talkinga bout is like: Ber realized/ Ber thought / Ber knew. That kind of writing is totally fine, but that’s about it. I need to come up with more creative ways to talk about feelings and abstract concepts!!!

-Character: I know everyone is probably like………….how dare lauryl put this here. But listen. I don’t think I struggle with character on RP. But outside of RP? Oh boy! The THING about RP is you MUST create a character, that’s your vessel for writing here, and so you do all that development plus u got the four years of worldbuilding informing that character, and literally EVERYTHING CHARACTER DRIVEN ITS...THERE IS NO OTHER WAY.  Outside of RP though I think I have struggled because my natural affinity is worldbuilding and shit like that. I’m type 5 baby, I am attracted to characters who let me poke at things I don’t know anything about, like even Jun, part of it really is like, petitions and grocery store management lmfadsofij. SOOOo idk I just need to be able to focus on crafting characters that are compelling vessels for the cool shit I like to do outside of RP.

Pick one of your plots, or even just a character, and come up with a list of 3-5 “mentor texts” where you can look for inspiration or research, then write a short (2-4 sentences) why you picked those texts. JOHN DARLING BREAKS INTO FAERYLAND 1. Call Down the Hawk/Raven Cycle: It’s no coincidence that my reread of Raven Cycle last winter played a pretty big part in inspiring this new version of John. The descriptions of the magical forest Cabeswater and the hunt for Glendower have the same kind of contemporary fantasy vibe that I really like for John. And of course, Ronan’s dream magic is very much intertwined with the faery realm feeling like a dream (and Ashleigh, obviously, as a dark faery who can manipulate them). More than that though, the attention paid to the psyches of each character and how they drive the plot forward is just… /chefs kiss. 2. The Mabinogian: I want to draw from these classic Welsh/British stories and incorporate them in creative ways! Or just as, like, motifs are something. :) I have tried to do this but would like to be a lot more intentional, instead of just being like lmao let me look up some random shit for this one reply~ 3. The Hazel Wood: This book deals with characters coming into the real world from a book world! This kind of goes along with the Mabinogian as I kind of ish want to do something similar, only treating the Mabinogian as a historical, cultural text as opposed to a fiction. This book also focuses a lot on fairy tale tropes (like numbers) which I really want to incorporate in John’s stuff. I want to ideally write some of my own fairy tales-- I have one in mind actually through Ashleigh but it’s related to John too since he’d the scholar of said stories.  

And now, a wishlist!

-Exploring Nemo’s disability. This is slightly challenging for me since we don’t have many fairies, but I’m brainstorming some ideas and hope to really kick it off in January, leading up to his Talent Placement Test.   -I really want to have a lot of town-centric plots for Jun. Would love to rp with the police officers! I want to have Jun try to get some ppl arrested tbh ahah, like, Fflew for loitering, or maybe reporting Mitte. I would love some arch nemeses tbh-- Mitte does seem like a good one. AND I want to submit at least three petitions next semester!! Maybe i should make that two!! Still!! -Do some Bonfamille plots. I already have something I’m really excited about and have already planned here so this is a teaser… -Keep writing essays. The fairies have been great, getting me really inspired to do these.What’s been an amazing mental exercise, and why I cannot stop writing these, is thinking about how the political philosophy of Pixie Hollow informs how it functions: technically, socioculturally etc. It’s really fun for me to basically build a communist thought project and then enact it for real. I feel like I’m learning a lot about...well, societies, lol, and how the material factors endlessly bleed into, and shape, ideas and beliefs (and vice versa). Also, I literally have to do these because when Nemo is IN the Hollow and I want to write him getting a glass of water, I’m faced with a lot of technical questions: do fairies have running water? Does he have to get it from a stream? How do they keep things cool? Etc etc. And that’s why I go off on these, and I’m excited to keep doing them, as many as I can, with feedback from my fellow fairies. Also, do want to do ones that are NOT fairy related, so we’ll see about that. -Write John backstory. He’s gone on a few other adventures and I’d like to actually one-shot those maybe lol. -Alternate Charlie Timeline: This is something that’s bopping around in my head and I haven’t found the perfect way to make it happen, but I want Charlie to travel to an alternate version of his life and get stuck. When I figure out the right way to do this, my partners will also get to rp alternate versions of their characters lol. That’s fun right!! Of course it is, we do it all the time with AUs, but this one obvi be more personal and more closely tied to canon.

OPTIONAL: Why do you RP? First and foremost, I RP because it’s writing for the sake of writing-- joy for joy. I think this is even more important this year as I’ve had to focus on mentorship writing outside of RP. RP became the place where I didn’t have to think so hard about making everything make sense, lol. It gave my brain a break so I could be less judgmental of myself and just have fun and do the most ridiculous stuff...and some of my fave stuff iS ridiculous because of that...like Nemo and Sindri making flower crowns or the ASC nonsense. It’s this kind of light, fluffy, low-stake (but still High Stake) stuff that provided me endless joy when I needed it the most. Second of all, I RP because I really want to invest in people’s creative energy. I think doing so gives back to myself. Building canon, helping people brainstorm, seeing people grow-- I feel like a proud mom when I get to have this kind of mentorship role myself. I talked to MK about this, but even though Sam left to go off and do greater things, that’s like-- to me, it was a lot like he was graduating from this weird BDRP school I’ve helped create. I felt nothing but pride and happiness for him and really felt like, if BDRP was to explode tomorrow, I ACHIEVED the thing I set out to do when, four years ago, I sat on my computer and drafted BDRP’s mission and vision and committed myself to this admin role. And THAT’S what I want ideally-- for BDRP to be this collaborative place that doesn’t focus too much on what makes sense, on sitewide plots that force people into roles. I have always wanted plots like ASC and John’s search for Excalibur to be able to exist side by side, and I think we’ve done that. Now we just have to tend this garden, don’t we, haha? May BDRP bear many delicious fruit.

[html-fuck-blog]

Dissertation Outline

Look, man, I know I’m supposed to be meeting ur deadline and writing ur 50 million words on why I wanna fucking stay in this course, cause that’s what it is, isn’t it? I mean, in this day and age, what is the dissertation really for if not for hitting ur grade quota.??

 We all know u folk have a job to do and targets to meet, but I refuse to believe that means fucking us about and making us feel like the tiniest Lil bitches on the planet when, in reality, have u watched ur selves?? Eh, Jim? Have u watched the Lil video of ur ‘performance’ on Micheals y2k phone?? Nah, I bet u haven’t cause u just know for sure it was the best piece of work you’ve done and ur so proud u did that in front f ur students, the people ur supposed to be inspiring, well do u know what u inspired us to do??? Become stand up comedians bc honestly, there’s nothing else we can do with the amount of content u gave us.

 I cant find value in the dissertation. I cant find value in the course. And I can’t see value in yourselves.

 “I cannot tell u what u should write about.” – Jon Blackwood

 “let’s be pragmatic about ur beliefs”- Jon Fucking Blackwood.

 U know what big man, it was condescending, it was fucking rude, and I can’t get my head around someone of ur stature saying something along those lines to a student. I think most of u forget ur are teachers and not just full-time artist’s “living their lives” we are here for nothing other than learning, not becoming ur friends, or bitching with y’all while smoking. Now yes, I know that’s fun and might be the only bonus of being an artist, y’ know the community we all have, but that community has to be built on respect, and y’ ain’t gonna get it if u don’t listen to what we are laying down. It is not about u guys. It’s not about “who” taught us, it’s the fact we got educated.

 Its not happening tho.

 We’re becoming Glasgow School of Art, money, and grades over actual fucking humanity.

 This is art school mate, not everyone is here to get an A, some of us are here because we have something to say. And this is the only space we have. Do not make that space smaller for ur own benefit.

 Here’s the problem, I’ve presented my issues with both sides. With students and with lecturers. The students get it. They get the idea, they get the problem, they get several solutions, they are open-minded and supportive. The lecturers, shut u down, tell u that you’ll be eaten alive, say ur ideas aren’t realistic because people might not understand, make sure u don’t wanna have an original idea again, will never open a book and teach themselves something new. 

 Like are u afraid that if u learn something else that u might explode? Are u seriously worried that u might step out of ur fucking comfort zone and realise that the sky is more than just blue, it is not a colour it’s a scientific reaction that means more than any atom in ur body ever could. The grass is not just green, it is a life force determined to cover this earth with more knowledge than u could fathom. But no one is asking u to be einstien or hawking. They are asking u to be human. To care enough. To look at the planet that u live on and beg that there is more than u can see. Honestly, it’s not much. If u just spent one minute on wiki-fucking-pedia, u would understand that u are not some petulant teenager who knows everything. The world is spreadin around u faster than u can blink. So take a minute. It might change ur perspective.

 I know I probably come across like a teenager myself right now, and I have a few responses,

I am closer to being a child than anyone else ‘teaching’ us

Im fucking stressed

This art school is becoming a shambles

I literally don’t care

Soz not soz 

I want to be able to give more than a thousand-word rant about this situation, but there isn’t much to say.

 I can only say that being part of the “snowflake” culture is weirdly inspiring bc at no point before us would we be able to come forward IRL, sobbing and still be angry. We got our emotions, and we ain’t afraid to show them. So, here I am, sobbing and fuming. I do not want a tough love approach, that will make me do nothing but drop out. I am a fumbling mess who looks for reassurance at every turn and if I don’t get it? This petulant teenager will throw a tantrum, alone, in the bathroom, then pretend nothing happened.

 That fact of the matter is, I don’t have a problem with writing or reading, or studying or whatever, I enjoy it. I type fucking thousands of words just to rant about one shitty meeting, u think I wouldn’t love writing eight thousand words on something I’m passionate about? Ur right, I would love it; what I hate is someone literally shitting on OG ideas just because he can’t wrap his little baldy brain around it??? Like how does that seem fair?? Did u think I was born with this knowledge? Or do u think I went out and learned something new for myself because im a fully(*) functioning adult??? Oh yeah, I did, fancy that. I’m sure someone with a Ph.D. could get to grips with reading a new book, couldn’t they? Sorry if I’m coming across condescending, I’m just saying what I think. I think, Jon, that maybe u worry every day that someone might come along and be smarter than u and trust me I ain’t saying that it’s me, that would be a whole other level of egotism, but I am saying that u are not the smartest man in the world, in fact ur probs not even on the list. But that’s not a bad thing, it just means u need re-evaluate ur stance in society, cause u ain’t up there with them, ur down here with us sweetie.

(*) I bought a vegetable once – receipt lost -2018 

[ughgclden]

bee, love, i am so happy you had a good first day, you deserve calm and loving days, and you deserve people, deserve friends. i’m so happy for you.

as for apologising, i’m a terrible hypocrite every time i tell you not to worry about it, as i also apologise for anything, most notably existing, but i want you to know you don’t have to apologise to me, i understand the impulse but there’s no obligation or anything.

i’m glad you’re feeling better, and that it was just a little ick, well not glad that you were ick but glad it wasn’t too bad.

when it comes to being in welton, i fantasise a lot about these things, i think something especially about boarding schools is appealing to me. being away. that’s why my plans are new york or wales or if my friend is to be believed, quebec. sometimes though, those realities all feel more and more like tissue paper soaked in water, just waiting for a reason to fall apart

i read really quickly, it’s probably an issue, i read red white and royal blue in about an hour and fifteen minutes. neil and i. kindred spirits. today at lunch i watched the last thirty minutes of dead poets society, going back to rewatch “i was good, i was really good.” like ten times.

imposter syndrome is slowly getting the better of me.

i actually dressed up as leia for the midnight premiere of the force awakens. i’m that person. if i’d been with you in the cinema i would have cried too, you’re not alone there, i cried watching it on the floor.

i don’t deserve the nice words you give me, but i’m happy i make you feel comfy and cosy, and ironically enough, writing with a quill or fountain pen never ends in pristine and unsmudged ink, you can thank my being left handed for that. i think there’s something nice about writing with fancy pens, maybe that makes me seem pretentious as well. oh well.

as for dps tattoos, if i can ever get any tattoos, i want the neil crown, “i was good, i was really good.” somewhere, probably my wrist who knows, and some art that alludes to the first unmanned flying desk set. among others. the “and still we sleep” thought, and the outline of meeks and pitts both sound so lovely. so so lovely. i really hope you can get every tattoo you wish. although your bank account may hate me for saying so /j i want more piercings, mainly on my ears, i have something of an earring addiction, my favourite pair at the moment is probably my howl drop earrings that look like howls from howls moving castle.

honestly the outfit/hair colour distraction rule is dumb. it’s dumb. i just don’t get it. abuse of power ig. and yeah. we were like hugging and sorta just leaning on each other while talking and the administrator got angry, for whatever reason. the straight couple making out behind us, she didn’t seem to mind, however. it’s dumb, and im glad i don’t go there anymore.

im clearly very articulate today (sarcasm) my mind is ehhhhhhhhhhh and feels like a squirrel laying on its stomach.

maybe i will call you ramona flowers, bee /j did you know the original name for pac man was puck man… /j hiding in the back of the music room to avoid a maths test sounds like something i would do. i say this, knowing full well that i’m such a neil kinnie that i end up feeling like a teachers pet because i want to do well, both for myself and simply to avoid trouble with my mum.

a new york times best seller, huh? well if i ever publish anything i’ll dedicate it to you, both for being the only person who thought i could be a storyteller, but also for being a lovely person in general.

sometimes one day after another feels impossible. tomorrow feels impossible. but oh well. i think younger me would be disappointed, to some degree. on the other hand, i think they’d think it’s cool how much i know. if nothing else, they’d love that i have a typewriter. also, i’m sure young you would be proud of you, i am. i’m so proud of you.

i mean bee, i could teach you to shoot a bow /hj YOU CAN WIELD A SWORD????? here i was thinking you could not possibly get cooler or hotter omg i’m in love /hj

thank you for being proud of me, really bee, thank you. and thank you for being the only one. i’m hardly changing the world, but i guess if i don’t burn out and lose this fight, changing a few points of views in the process of growing wouldn’t be terrible.

p.s. it’s certainly something, i feel bad because i always pull away from people when i get numb and it’s so new that me doing that could be detrimental to everything, but me forcing myself not to could have a bad effect on me. who knows what’ll happen. i’m just gonna try and keep them happy no matter what.

p. p. s. bee you brought this upon yourself /lh

all my love, bee, and that pun was the out of this world part of that sentence. you’re so cute omg.

that quote is beautiful, and since i, once again, had to translate french and smile about it, i’ll leave you with this

no importa que nos separe la distancia, siempre habrá un mismo cielo que nos una.

p.p.p.s. thank you for saying what you do, and i know that i don’t owe you anything, but writing to you is easy, and makes me happy, when i manage to get myself to sit down and think about it. i’m sending you back hugs, gentle forehead kisses and mugs of tea, a soft blanket and a narnia movie marathon, where we argue about how i am definitely not better than susan pevensie, but you almost certainly might be.

i’m so happy uni is going well thus far, love. and i hope you love your classes. learning.

thank you for everything bee.

yours, always,

star✨

star sweetheart, thank you so so much, honestly. i can't tell you how much that means - i know you said not to apologise, but an apology seems in order for the lateness of this message- im terrible i know /lh thank you sm though.

i'm writing this whilst listening to one of my favourite albums (hypersonic missiles by sam fender, if you were curious) and curled up in bed, so this really adds to the comforting vibes.

i'm with you on that, boarding schools do have a certain something about them, don't they? i hope you can get to one or all of these places in your life - i can speak from experience wales is especially beautiful, but i can really see you in new york, too. wherever you end up star, i truly hope you're happy there.

an hour and fifteen mins?!!? the fastest i've read something was a clockwork orange in two and a half hours or so- you are so strong star, i've watched that film 20+ times and only watched the last half an hour maybe 4 /lh

that is SO CUTE oh my god- i will admit, for it chapter two i did channel my inner bill denbrough and wore some flannel (i luv that limbo <3)

you deserve all of these words and more, i promise you. you deserve something a lot less clumsy, but i offer you my best. left handed.. you rly are neil huh? /j

all of those ideas; absolutely lovely. the i was good tattoo breaks my heart in the best way possible. im hoping you get all of these tattoos, love. you'd suit them more than anyone, i'm sure. those earrings sound like the coolest fucking things ever? i did have a pair that had a little vodka bottle on, but i lost one in a club and haven't gotten round to replacing them. i definitely want more piercings too,, my conch is looking pretty bare as of late...

that is just. so disgusting? im so- god that makes me so angry i can't even explain. i think i should punch all homophobes straight in the mouth, actually /hj

love, i bet younger you would be so so proud of all you've achieved. from only what you've told me, i am. they'd be over the moon at how intellectual, kind and strong you are, i know it.

I CAN!!! ITS ONE OF MY MOST ESTEEMED TALENTS!!! lets make a deal. you teach me to shoot a bow, i teach you to wield a sword.. we're giving very narnia power couple if i may say.. /hj

i will always be proud of you star, for even the smallest of things you achieve. you're actively making a difference and a change, take bringing this positivity into my life for example. you've got this, star. i know you have.

ps; im wishing you all the best my love, seriously. take every day as it comes, and listen to your mind and wellbeing. im sending you so much love

pps; that quote. is so fucking cute. god im breaking down,, its so pretty and so DHJHFJKNFKKN yeah.

this is me, making you a cup of coffee and your favourite comfort meal, with a kiss on the top of the head. we will have this argument - as much as i love susan, she's no match for you <33

all of my love and happiness, star. you truly are one of a kind.

if i may, i'd like to leave you with an excerpt from a poem i saw earlier that i fell in love with;

"and you laugh. / loudly- / head tipping back. / and while your eyes / are on the ceiling, / i am mouthing / something too heavy even / for this steady night to shoulder. / "this is not a joke." i mouth. / "love me. love me." - letters from medea, salma deera

[glove23]

EVENS

2: one of your favorite comments/reviews on this chapter/verse?mmmm for meeting your maker (literally) would be a review i got the other day and it jusg. amuses me so much. “Such a great way for me to start the new year: Reading another of your wondrous chapters! I’m beating myself up because I don’t know who Sirius is going to contact. Andromeda maybe? It make me mad that my knowledge doesn’t allow me to have Harry’s understanding. Oh well.”

4: what time of the day/night do you like to write? mmm literally whenever i get motivation and thats usually around midnight

6: hardest/easiest character to write for?Lily Evans is the hardest, i just feel like i can never get her right. Percy Jackson is the easiest bc ive just known his character for so long its like second nature to me

8: (if you have either or both) how do you manage time with writing, work, school etc.? I DONT DO EITHER AT THE MOMENT and i still dont write as much as i should,,,,while i was in school i feel like i actually wrote more tbh

10: any writing advice?honestly jusg fuckin do it. even if u donf really have any inspiration going in, just write and if it sucks who cares at least ur writing

12: anything you would do to make archiveofourown different/change it?not anything i can think of at the moment, tho im sure theres something

14: what is the arc for this character (redemption, etc.)? JAMES POTTER??? to not be a fuckin bully anymore jesus christ im gonna have some WORDS with the boy

16: do you ever hand write? why or why not?yeah sometimes and its usually bc i cant get to my computer or phone or thag i just feel like actually Writing with a pen

18: any fanmixes you’ve made for this fic/verse?nope

20: what songs were you listening to during this scene/chapter?i almost always either listen to the pride and prejudice 2005 soundtrack or either how to train your dragon ½ soundtracks. i cant listen to music with words while writing i canf concentrate.

22: favorite line/quote/inner monologue from this character?im gonna just keep going with james for these“James nodded. "Yeah, he did, but he could’ve seen them die as a baby, or something. Just because they don’t remember knowing them, doesn’t mean they weren’t there.”“ bc james u right

24: do you outline?nope

26: anything you’re planning to write in your fic that you’re worried readers might like?YEAH BUT I AINT SAYIN cuz thats spoilers and ive been planning this forever

28: any scene/line you wrote that you didn’t expect to write/that surprised you once it was written?the entire fic of mym(l)

30: any backstory questions about characterstheir backstory is literally all 7 hp books

32: what are your stats for this story/verse?(55264 words)Subscriptions: 309 Hits: 8573 Kudos: 387 Comment Threads: 84 Bookmarks: 139

34: a scene/paragraph you wrote that you’re proud ofevery time one of the trio freaks out at hogwarts bc of all the war memories they have associated with there

36: any scenes you wrote that parallel the canon verse?probably

38: do you title your chapters? what’s your favorite chapter title? what’s its significance/why did you choose it?yes and its between Mission Status: Broken and Of Nightmares and Men. mission status is bc theyre on a mission and sad things happen and nightmares is bc harry literally has some bad nightmares

40: chapter you’re most proud of in this verse?all

42: five songs that this character has on their iPod/iPhone?james1- mr brightside by the killers i dont CARE when it came out james potter has this on his ipod2- revelution by the score 3-how to save a life by the fray4- nine in the afternoon by panic! at the disco5-youre gonna go far kid by the offspring

44: have you shared your outline with anyone? if so, what did they think of it?nope

46: story with the most kudos (AO3)?mym(l) only bc its been up for three years

48: a happy future moment you’ve written/have planned for this ship? (will post under read more for spoilers)them being alive (i REFUSE to give spoilers for this part ive kept it secret for too long to give in now)

50: this character’s guilty pleasure?james: idk man he eats ice cream on his broom in midair this dude doesnt care who knows what he likes lbr

THANKS BABE

[winalou-blog]

Introduction to my simple mum life of four.

Day 1.

Well hello there. I am coming to you live and almost falling off my bed due to the tiredness and illness that creeps within.

Im no writer. I do like to tap on this new laptop once in a while tho, just to keep me in this world of tech and this mind altering cyber world.

I would like to tell share moments with those that are reading. Not everyone's cup of tea but just a daily insight to me, someone you don't know from a world of weirdness and just stuff.

I am simple girl (In life not mind) born 36 years ago to my only parent (my beautiful mum) who took it upon herself to raise me because my dad was off having affairs and many more children, so my mum looked after me, my sister and 2 brothers until we all became old enough to discover this huge wide world that is really a hidden enemy disguised as "The land of opportunity".

My brother died when i was 5 years old due to having a brain aneurysm when he was 8.....what a sad day that was. Perhaps i will go into that later, now however.....moving on *tears*  i just wanna outline the start of many things that for me.....has turned me into a overbearing mum who stays at home while panicking over silly things like, whether my child is breathing or did they have food in their mouth somehow when they went to bed? are they going to choke? is the duvet over their head? have they got their head stuck inside the pillow???? at 4am while im laying in bed and thinking about the million things that will make me NOT fall asleep.

I am not even joking, being a mum is some hard work and so much brain usage. It would be funny if it wasn't so tiring.

So anyways, i had my first daughter at the tiny age of 15! Yes you read that right 15. I was young but "spoiler alert" she is almost 21 now and an amazing girl/friend/soulmate pregnant with my first grandson :)

Then years later after becoming a full time mum and taking on 2 full time jobs to cover everything you need to get by in life ie: BILLS BILLS BILLS! (i wrote that in capitals because its a massive pain in this world of money hungry Corporations and Government extortionists)......i went on to meet the man of my "lack of dreams" but my man none the less and i had 3 more babies who are now 10, 11, and 13.

Its a strange world we live in nowadays isn't it? I am not very good putting things down.  I left school at 15 and pretty much taught myself  LIFE and WORK......I am proud of how far i have come but disappointed how many people left me behind to fend for myself.

Without these people tho i wouldn't be who i am today, i just wanna be able to get some stuff out of my brain and on to some world wide web somewhere buried deep as a kind of self therapy, i might even help the one person that actually might read this lol.

What ever i get out of this Blog/Diary i hope to look back in a year an see that i am not really that girl people make me out to be. I am not a bad person......I am not worthless.....I am not the abortion my dad hope i would be.

Its real, the struggle with our our mind sometimes. We are our own worst critic at times.....Just remember There is always someone out there willing to listen.....Even if you dont know it yet.

Web hugs, your internet friend Lou x

[lilacsfallentoheaven]

Snipets of Myself

12/27/18, 4:36 am

Today I recalled something. A tale.

There was a boy I used to like, long before you, named Declan. He liked me, for a long while, but then things would eventually find themselves changing. But, nonetheless, he liked me a lot, and this is how that all changed.

You know the expression “Don’t stick your dick in crazy”? Well, Declan was the opposite believer of such an anecdote. And he was intent on doing exactly that.

I met Declan when I moved schools in year four. We started at that school on the same day - though I had arrived 15 minutes later - and we sat across from each other, as the teacher thought maybe we could bond together with our shared arrival. That’s how I considered it at the time, now I see that my teacher had set the two of us aside together as a quarantine, as if we were to be examined as though we would infect the other children with our other-schooled germs. It was funny, actually, because we took a liking to each other from the start, though it was a platonic appreciation of each other. I remember he told the story about putting roaches in his sister’s bed to the class, and I was the only one who had laughed at such a vial thing. And at that, he smiled.

I have a few fleeting memories of our time, seated at a table-group of four together. I asked the girl beside him, who had been my friend at the time, to borrow a red correcting pen, and he was quick to offer it. He gave one to me instantly. He gave me his, furthermore, and took out another one for himself. I had been his priority at that moment. I remember him drawing in his book, and being so surprised when I knew who his favorite superhero, Aquaman, was, far before it was mainstream knowledge. He was his hero, and I was the nerd who knew him. And at that, he smiled.

There was a time when I pretended to be afraid of knives for the purpose of allowing him to use it on pancake day, so he could feel proud and brave in front of our group. He was so proud of himself and he showed off to everyone how superior and better he was, or at the very least felt. I knew it would make him happy, even though it was childish. it was year four, we were ten, that stuff is important to people, and I knew that. He did too, I think, because he was always the confident, smart one, even if I saw him frown sometimes when he was on his own. And at that, he smiled.

But then the next year came along, and with that came Lilac. We started hanging out, and we would roleplay that we were traveling all around the world with our crushes. She chose a boy she was pining for, and I chose Declan. I didn’t have a crush on him, but he was my favorite boy in our grade. When we grew out of make-believe, or at least grew it in separate directions, we began to play games and started talking about boys, and only then did I begin liking him more than a platonic sense. It had been very well known, apparently - by everyone except me - that he had liked me for some time. It explained what had happened when we went to camp and his friends made me sit next to him during archery, and how when someone took my canoe his friends were insistent that he took one with me. Maybe it was a kayak. I can’t tell the difference. It didn’t matter, though, because Declan and I were friends. And we were both happy with that, because we didn’t want to ruin our friendship by confronting the other with obvious feelings. And, as everything proceeded, things weren’t weird for a while. The four of us - Lilac, her brother Luciel, Declan, and I - would all hang out together. Luciel was two years older than us (we were around 12), and though he was too young to drive he would take the car out late at night and pick us up, first Declan than Ime. We would hang out in the early mornings, past midnight when the owls gleam at the stars and the sky is clear of the bright clouds that block other galaxies from looking into our globe. At first, when we were younger, we would talk whilst watching movies and playing silly games. But you’re reading about how everything changed, and as such you, my love, already know the basic outline of the next part.

We created a game - the intensity game, I called it. The game was simple enough in theory, but we never expected it to go as far or for as long as it did; Whoever could do the most horrifically outrageous, daring feat, and accomplish it, would be the winner. We played this game over several months, despite the fact that we intended for it to be about a week or so before we all gave up and forgot about it. It ended up changing our lives.

It started out small. A cigarette for Lilac, something heavier for Luciel, my infamous priest story. It wasn’t all individual things, though, because if we couldn’t match it or top it than we would lose points. We had a board where we would keep track, which was left underneath the chair in the back seat of the car Luciel would take. The very same car that Luciel and Lilac would crash in, eight months after we had started the game. Their last place where Lilac had ever been conscious. And I had put them there.

Regardless, we got intense. Late nights became early mornings, and we were spending a lot of time together without anyone else ever knowing.

So it was weird for me, one day, to walk away from the group for one moment to use the restroom (an empty bottle we would bring on the hill cliff) and come back to weird silence. Three glares, not directed at me but at each other. Lilac’s eyes focused upon the ground as if she had been damning Satan below her to a second eternity of himself. The other two shot each other confused glances when I had returned, and they spoke into each other’s eyes in what I had originally assumed was male-speak for something. Lilac, sweet sweet Lilac, looked up at me for just a moment before returning a softer gaze unto the dirt. I was stupid to ask any questions, because I should have left it alone.

Lilac was bisexual, and she had received a text from a girl who was crushing on her, She insisted she didn’t like the girl but confirmed to me she was, in fact, bisexual. When they had told me, I just looked at everyone and sat down on the rocky dirt. “Alright, cool. Glad you got it off your chest. I’ll keep your secret and kick their asses if they don’t.” We resumed life as it had been, but the effects would eventually wear. 

I was always around everyone, and that’s my justification as to why this happened. That, and if a bunch of early teenagers hang out late together at night in secluded areas, sharing secrets and pee bottles alike, people are bound to leave with pounding hearts that break when they hit the sharp knives of the rib cage.

On one particular day, it had all began with my insistence on feeling cold. 

Roughly, our night had proceeded:

“Luce, did you bring a blanket?” I had asked, my exact words. He smiled back to me and confirmed he had. I noted that was great, cool, something like that, and stood up. All the three had stood up and insisted they get it for me, and they gave each other pointed looks as if accusing each other, and each in a heartbeat insisted on getting it for me. I told them all that I would get it, though I ended up telling Luciel to get it because he had the car keys. Lilac sat down and pulled me with her. Declan insisted on going with Luciel to get more snacks, and I thought little of it so I waved my thoughts away from it and toward the stars that Lilac insisted I look upon. I was looking up at them, but my neck hurt so I instead chose to lay on her shoulder, then more comfortably on her lap. She smiled down at me and played with my hair, but exhaled and peered back toward the endless sky of wishes in dense lights.

The boys came back with displeased looks on their faces, evident in disagreement with each other. I told them to lighten the fuck up and that they could dick each other down later when I wasn’t there, then I closed my eyes because I felt tired. I had waited a while asI listened to them talk about me in whispers, as if I could only hear if they spoke louder than the crickets. They argued, too, and it was awfully unpleasing to listen to. It felt like a moment in a terrible fanfiction, which goes with my theory that I live inside the book of a sickly twisted author. I must have been based upon the writer, except been placed in one of those “everyone loves the main character” self-inserts you find on Wattpad at 4 in the morning before questioning what the actual hell you are doing with your time halfway through and go to sleep. Heaven knows I would have preferred to sleep through it.

At one point, the point I really remember, Luciel had insisted that he had a right to ask me out because I was old enough to be in the grade just below him, but Declan countered that by declaring he shouldn’t date someone younger than him and that he himself had known me the longer than Luciel, and if anyone would date me it should be him. Lilac insisted she had spent the most time with me and likewise knew me through and through. The boys retorted by both saying I was a lesbian. Lilac returned with a joke I will never forget, about the two of them not being disappointed in seeing two girls make out. It rendered both of them silent for a moment, and I almost laughed. I turned a little, in my faux sleep to muffle my smile, and accidentally turned more into Lilac’s lap. Luciel made a crude joke, something about having me between legs, which would have earned him a slap from Lilac should I not have been there, she assured him. Luciel mentioned to check if I was awake yet, and with the certainty I wasn’t they proceeded with a plan.

These jokes had sparked an idea. A new game. A game of me. Who could claim me, they wondered. We would play truth or dare tonight to prove I wasn’t a lesbian, and that Lilac and I had no chemistry together. I knew, from this, that I owned each of them in that moment, for as long as this game would go on. Even though I would not win the intensity game in their eyes, I was the true winner because I had the nerve to screw over each one of their hearts and twist them into divides.

I pretended to wake up with the general “How long was I out? Must be late” spiel, and they pitched the game to me. Declan seemed hesitant but was swayed easily. Lilac more so.

I wrapped the blanket around me and we fixed the rules to match our intensity game. Everyone had to match the dare done. We played a few rounds, and Lilac was dared to kiss me. She looked nervous as it was pitched to her, but I stared her in the eyes and almost let it happen.

We stared at each other. I could see the pure guilt in her irises be tainted by the fear that I knew; that I knew she liked me, that I knew of the game, that I knew because I could hear everything. I almost took pity on her, but when I moved away and insisted it wasn’t fair upon me because I couldn’t match the dare. Luciel hovered over me; he could see right through what he thought was the real bullshit: I had never been kissed and didn’t want my first one to be with Lilac, a girl.

If I look further back, my first kiss wasn’t my choice, but a quick peck on the lips by a prick of a boy named Calvin when I was 6. I was scared because I had thought that that meant I had to marry him, but I was quickly assured otherwise. After that, Luciel didn’t know that Declan and I had almost shared a kiss, but I had my first kiss with another boy, one whose name I will never want to mention. The one who shared a name with an angel. 

And that, he knew, was himself. Because moments later, he did something to alter the course of our dynamic. His eyes peered down at me, and he leaned down to take dominance over the situation. I leaned on the back of my heels, staring up at him as he drew my face to his with a finger below my chin. I will not share the hypnotizing words he spoke to me, because those thirteen words cursed me for a long time. We were locked together by those words. He threw the blanket off me and pushed me back onto it, pressing his lips to mine. I don’t know if I wanted to get away, but even if I had wanted to push him away, wanted to get up and tell them all how fucked up this was for them to make me their object of prize to satisfy themselves without considering what I would’ve wanted - I don’t think I would have been able to. I know that underneath his kiss to me, my first kiss, I didn’t want more than that. I felt for the first time the odd heat that had flushed submissively to my face, an odd desire which I learned was arousal. On that blanket I was his. No one else’s. When he pulled away, he held a pleased smirk on his lips which played in tugs, and he lingered for a moment above me, before he sat up. Even as he had left, the air of him stayed behind. It felt like him, everywhere, and I couldn’t sit up.

It took a while for the air to fade, but it happened. The spell was lifted, my hypnosis gone. He had, I theorize, actually doe something to me to make me submit to him. He insisted I just wanted him, when I had asked later about it. Do you remember when I mentioned I had a friend who was in the habit of practicing hypnosis? I found out much, much later, after he had killed himself following Lilac’s death, that this magically enrapturing kiss had not been my first with him. He had made me forget it. 

But I went to bed that night thinking of him, after quickly insisting that we all go home because I was tired and it was 2 in the morning. When I stared at the ceiling I could feel him pressed against me, above me, a finger below my chin and the other hand below my breast, tracing down to my waist and his lips led mine into his spell. Do you remember when we first started dating and I would hold your hand away from my breasts every time you played with them? This was why. He was why. At first I hated the feeling above me, but it faded and I felt happier. When I closed my eyes and it was you above me, however, I smiled, and I felt loved as a human and not a prize. Now you can do whatever you want to my breasts.

But this isn’t about you, my breasts, or Luciel. Declan made sure it wasn’t about Luciel.

The next day, Declan was talking to me through all our lessons. You know how people pretend that they’re sad or upset to gain the attention of a particular person? Yeah, it was a situation like that. He told me he was feeling depressed. Naturally, I wanted to help him.

In doing so, he made sure I ignored both of the Reid’s at all his costs. Even when I was texting Lilac, he took my attention. When I was sitting with my normal friends, the ones who knew nothing of the situation, of my friendships with these people, the ones I would spend my school time with and talk to for Skype when I needed normalcy in my life, he took my attention away from him. 

You see, the four of us didn’t sit together. Luciel and Lilac went to a different school, and Declan was a popular guy who would play sports and do social things. The four of us were a separate relationship, an external entity. It was weird for everyone else to see Declan and I talking to each other actively and not just because we were forced to sit next to each other due to alphabetical ordering in our classes. It was weird for them to see such a popular guy talking to the known strange girl who had gotten into a fight and broke some guy’s wrist, which had actually been for him.

When I pointed out that he shouldn’t be talking to me, he suddenly became aware of himself and waved goodbye to me. There was nothing left to be done, I had decided, and went to the library with my school laptop to talk to Savanah, one of my other friends.

Even when everyone had called me odd, even when I had created an outcast of myself, he still managed to find a way to like me, but soon after he had realized all of this the illusion of hidden love and beauty fell apart.

Lilac would now bring Jim, her boyfriend, to our meet-ups, and so our intensity games were put on hold. You already know how they end, with Lilac hanging off the bridge I swam under when I had tried to kill myself one knight, where Luciel had saved me. Declan, through active awareness of social hierarchy, decided our game was immoral, and he dropped out long before any of that. He dropped out of our lives.

Time grew, and I still had a thing for Declan, but Luciel and I had grown closer than anyone else. We started dating, and everything else proceeded as it did. Even then, I still looked back to Declan on occasion, even though we could hardly be considered friends anymore with his newfound social awareness and spite for us all represented in filled time. I had always, even when I crushed on him, thought that he and Rachael Sullivan would get married. I wonder if that will happen. Last time I checked, they were at the very least rather good friends.

But you see, my sweetheart, there’s a hidden story that given reasons to the things we do. The snipets of myself, the ones that make up many aspects of my life, hide within these words, within the hell that binds itself to my story.