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glitchyk · 2 months ago

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Okay so just doing this so I remember

My silly little internet/found family!

My wife

@unfunnyaceartist is my beautiful amazing wonderful wife, one of the best people you will ever meet, talented and smart and should really check out her stuff

(#Ace my love #Ace my wife #Ace my beloved #my wife #my wife ♥️ #funny wife #funny wife mention)

LITERALLY SO FUCKING AMAZING I COULD GO ON FOR PARAGRAPHS AND PARAGRAPHS ABOUT HER AND I HAVE BUT I DONT WANNA TAKE UP TOO MUCH POST SOACE- basically in general she’s so cool and has such good art and myhshshsjns I love my wife can you tell?

Siblings

@lilithloves-you my somewhat annoying but rlly I care about her older sister whom I know irl

(#It’s just Lilith being stupid)

They’re an amazing person which you should check out, they like to do art and story stuff, they’re a really great friend.

@pink-pkmn-trainer one of my little sisters of while I love dearly, and we look a bit similar with being people with horns and a fluffy tail! Silly resemblance

(Pinkky trainer) <- may change in the future

I don’t talk much with them, but they’re really cool and all, they’re a nice person and really talented in traditional and I literally LOVE their art style.

@yunfox00 my little fox sister whom is vibing, she’s chilling, she’s my bright pink fox sibling and Foxxine is so nice and caring :>

(#Fox sister)

She’s so cool! She’s my cool little sibling who is vibing :> amazing little sister who should have MORE CONFIDENCE IN THEMSELF also holy shit they’re so cool and can do really cool tweening.

@dia-smthidk I met them through their au and stuff but they’re really a great person even if most the time they’re a sarcastic bastard/aff/silly/lh they’re a silly enby/trans person and I would 10/10 put their sona’s face on a giraffe again

(#Hallucination buddy)

Has a cool au! Really good at digital art! Really good at tweening! Fun personality! Dia is literally awesome and talented, along with being a great person in general— like aside from one miscommunication I don’t think I’ve genuinely had an argument with em

@moshieee THEYRE MY TWIN WE LITERALLY VIBE ON SUCH A DEEP LEVEL ITS LIKE WTF I’ve literally guessed some shit so accurately from them and they’re literally so great and shhsnsAASHSHSJ

(#Goop buddy / #Goop buddies)

I met them through their tadc au and I really look up to them for so many reasons! They’re really creative and have such amazing characters and beings and we literally combined lore for our sonas because we unintentionally aligned so much, I love rambling with them, even if I haven’t talked much recently, but I still love talking with them and others and just know they’re REALLY good at what they do and everything sbshsn

@vexation-816 a silly/aff lil guy, he’s like a lil brother to me :>

(#my toony little brother)

Got a great singing voice, and he’s very versed in a toony sort of art style! He’s real good with traditional art and even if he’s a lil slow (had to search up what estrogen meant) he’s still out little guy and jokes aside, he is very smart

@neptunestoast they’re a really cool person whom I met through mafia sona stuff- but I enjoy talking to outside of that and all, they’re really sweet and snhsjsk

(#Tosty Blob)

They’re my cat/silly Jokes aside their stuff is AWESOME like OML it’s so good people plz go look at their stuff like their art and story stuff and oh my god it’s shshjs

Children

@acreepylittleguy I vaguely know them and they seem pretty cool— my wife adopted them, so now they’re somewhat my child! Silly lil guy/aff

(tag still needs to be made/needs to be remembered)

Yet again ANOTHER very talented artist, go check em out

@thepomniplush I met them really just through my wife ace and finding out they’re my child, I don’t see them often, but they seem sweet from what I can tell

(My plushy child)

My plushy child whom has been vibing around here and it’s nice to see them every now and again :>

In laws

@thisiswasabis is married platonically to my dear little sister Foxxine- and they’re really cool, you should check them out

(#thesis was a Abis)

They have a really cool series! Also their art is awesome, they have really cool characters and are really sweet! I met them through their work but I stayed because they’re fun. You should, if you can, send them commissions because they’re going through a bit of a time right now!

@chaos-ace name twin to my beloved wife Ace! Fun lil guy to chill with

(#Ace of the chaos variety)

I met them through the mafia au I unintentionally started- they’re pretty nice! They have some fun Sona aus and they’re just vibing, very chaotic in a /pos way

Questionable where they are in family

@candy-ac3 I don’t talk to them that much recently but they’re really nice and have AMAZING ideas for their own stories such as ‘Others’, and they have a really good art style in my opinion

(…their username changed recently so I gotta work on that-)

Just know they’re super nice and have good art so I can confidently say that if you did commission them, it would be good :> Do they count as a name twin with my wife? I think? But I’m putting them in this category just in case ♥️

@bixell-pixell sigghhjhh even if you use gen alpha humor and language, you’re still like family to me like a silly older cousin or somethin

(#bi-pixell 💃)

Literally so fucking great at 3D mixing and digital art like BRO I AM JEALOUS— despite using gen alpha language, they are definitely a fun person to be around trust

@gummy-axolotl I met them through them being a little simp and all for a character I enjoy, they’re really cool and their art style is so idk how to explain it it looks squishy and I love it

(#Gummy of the not bear variety)

AAAAAAA I BARELY TALK WITH THEM BUT THEYRE SO SWEET SHSHSJSJJSHSJSHS literally such a nice person and they’re also such a. Proud person as well they’re so cool

@nightmaretherabbit I mostly met them through Fnaf stuff and Chase/Chaos ace, and even if u don’t see them often, they’re really cool and nice!

(tag still needs to be made/needs to be remembered)

A rare but pleasant sight to see on my blog/dash! They have some really good art and they’re pretty nice in general :> most the times I see them they’re asking how others are abhshsjsbsnsnsnm and they’re so nicee

@tailsbot98761 THEYRE SO NICEEEEEE like they’re literally someone who would platonically kiss you (if you’re comfy with that) or latch onto you and be nice

(tag still needs to be made/needs to be remembered)

I don’t see much of their art and such recently, but I know they’re really nice in general and so fucking sweet like shsbs they even used to go on as an anon #fox anon and would be so sweet to me shsjsbhshs

@anxiouschoco RSAAHHHHHH I MET THEM THROUGH MY WIFE ACE and they’re literally so sweet and talented and sbsgsnan they’re so niceeee and when I have talked with them they’ve been an absolutely DELIGHTFUL person

(#Count coco)

Has such good digital and traditional art and holy shit their animations look so good and sgstvvsvsvb I haven’t talked to many of these people really but they’re so GREAT and you should definitely check them out fr

@ner5y no choice 🫵 you are family now and shillyyyy

(tag still needs to be made/needs to be remembered)

EXTREMELY FUCKING TALENTED DEAR LORD go check him out, they have amazing art and they make such good comics for stuff they like andbbsnsnsgs I don’t interact with them much publicly but like GOOOOO CHECK OUT THEIR STUFF

@theautumnaldemon I haven’t talked much to them recently but like AAAAAA fun person who it’s nice to see on my dash ♥️ silly little gay person

(tag still needs to be made/needs to be remembered)

COOL ART COOL STORIES COOL STUFF I haven’t been able to check up much in their blog for their hyperfixatjons but regardless I love seeing them because silly autumn friend. I still remember when you were a cat. You cannot escape/silly

Hurgh I have more friends I would add to this post but like I DONT WANNA CLAIM THEYRE LIKE FOUND FAMILY TO ME IF THEY DONT KNOW THAT—

Also I’m like half asleep so I’ll add more when I remember stuff

#sona family #glitchyk randomness #found family shenanigans

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jo-harrington · 4 months ago

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Corroded Coffin Fest - Day 31 - Your Song

Summary: Nothing like a bit of music to get the creative juices flowing on a hot summer night.

Word Count: 855

Rating: T

Warnings/Themes: Meta, Metafiction, An Illustration of My Mind Space, not quite about a romantic pairing but still a love letter of sorts, 1st Person POV, references to some of my old writing that you'll never find

Note: Thank you to @thisapplepielife for being an excellent host. Any event like this is huge and tedious to organize, and I truly am in awe of how you pulled it off and the tools you put together for everyone to be successful. Thank you!!!

Check Out the Main Post for @corrodedcoffinfest here! And ALL of the wonderful works that have been created for CCFest. (If we do it again next year, you’ll know where to find me.)

Tagging: @the-unforgivenn at her request.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

It’s a humid July night.

I’m on the third floor in a tiny bedroom that used to be for a guest but is now an office full of my shit.

The bed is still there though. Uncomfortable and laden with pillows and stuffed animals.

“Man it’s fucking hot in here,” he says as he flops onto the bed. I’m at the desk, ignoring him as I queue up a song to write this. He’s dressed in his S4E1 best, hair haloing his head. I could be kind to him and change his clothes. But I don’t.

I’m not a merciful god.

“Thanks, oh great and powerful sweetheart,” he deadpans.

“I need you in that outfit,” I tell him as Keane starts ringing through the speakers.

Beeps and boobs of the early 2000s. He groans.

“This song again? How about some real music?”

“This. Is. Music!” I mock him and he pouts prettily. “Come on, this is your song.”

“Uh huh.”

“Its about being stuck, about everyone getting older and changing, and leaving the singer behind.”

He hums and then shifts onto his side, precariously dangling over the edge of the twin bed; he reaches underneath to pull a scrunchie from the bin I shoved under there some time ago.

“Does that sound familiar?” I prompt him a bit more, but he’s too busy futzing with his hair, trying to put it up. He makes a bun about as skillfully as I can, which isn’t great, but he still looks good. Of course he does. “Hello? Asshole? Are you ignoring me or avoiding the truth here?”

I snap my fingers twice in his direction.

“…you can keep playing the song,” he agrees without so much as a glance my way.

So I hit repeat and he nods along to it this time, humming as it goes.

I can’t argue. It’s the closest I’m gonna get to him accepting that it hits home.

And it hits home for him because it hits home for me. We are one in the same, in one way or another. Some things quite literally, taken from source material. Others by my hand—such is the way when you pick a blorbo, you impart yourself onto them.

“Oh here we go,” he groans. “Waxing poetic about fanfiction and fanspaces.”

“You are just as bad you nerd,” I growl at him through gritted teeth. “You play DND! You quote Tolkien and Star Wars!”

The bickering goes on for a minute. Until I decide it needs to stop. He needs to behave if I’m gonna get this done and let him move onto real adventures.

“Maybe you’re the one who’s making me stuck,” he suggests. “What’s that verse? You’re gone from here, soon you will disappear, fading into beautiful light…that should be me.”

I grumble something about another story to him "if I can just finish this!" I need to get the thoughts out of my mind while they're fresh.

What he doesn't know, or maybe what he does because he's imaginary and does indeed live in my head, is that he's always up there. In there in some way, shape or form.

He's lucky to get the real estate, and there's such a vast amount of it, because the Kingly figure that used to occupy all of my thoughts is currently retired. Has been ever since June of 2022.

Eddie Munson is stuck.

Everybody changes and he just stays the same.

But he doesn't, actually.

In the worlds I make for him, he grows up, he travels the world...he actually does get stuck in a few of them and I will apologize to him profusely before I give him everything he ever wants.

That is my promise to him, my dedication to him, to give him every future that he deserves but will never get in canon--or might never get; whose to say, the damn show isn't done yet even though his asshole actor seems to be done with him--until I can't anymore. Because that is my lot in life as a fanfiction writer. That is all of our lots in life, to continue where the ones who created him left off.

Not because I wish I had him, even though I wish I did, but because it's what he deserves.

I let Thorin win the crown of Erebor. Let him grow old in the Shire with Bilbo. And I could have let him have forever with Lukhudin, had Eddie not walked into our lives.

But because he's here now, I will give Eddie everything. A thousand lifetimes. He'll never be stuck again.

"If you could just," I turn to him, "cooperate for me please?"

He purses his lips, furrows his brow, and then waves a hand dismissively.

I try to turn back to the computer, try to finish this entry.

But he stops me.

"Tomorrow..." he pauses and I glance at him out of the corner of my eye. "Tomorrow can I try that Mountain Dew Code Red you were thinking about the other day?"

And I can't help but laugh.

"Of course you can Eddie," I tell him. "Of course you can."

#corrodedcoffinfest #eddie munson #eddie munson fic

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prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 2 years ago

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(Vi)vianne Marie Zephyr (1/2)

----

Here’s a list of things that Vivianne Marie Zephyr knew.

One, she was twelve years old.

Two, twelve-year-olds should not be trusted to make their own decisions.

Three, twelve-year-olds didn’t know anything about themselves or the world. (at least, according to her extended family they didn't.)

Four, Vivianne is not a girl.

----

| Ao3 | Next -> |

Warnings:

Virgil gets deadnamed, mostly by himself but also by people who don't know he's trans.

Pairings: Virgil & Remus

Word Count: 5535

Notes:

This fic is basically exploring Virgil's story more or less up to the point of 'Mine is a World of Rooftops and Love Songs', the first chapter especially focuses on him discovering that he's trans. Because of this there's a lot of deadnaming/using the wrong pronouns for him at the start because he's learning.

This is also written from the perspective of a twelve-year-old learning about the idea of being trans for the first time, so obviously he's not going to get the terms exactly right, etc.

I'd also like to note that I myself am not trans, so I'll apologise now if anything here is inaccurate, feel free to correct me if the need arises.

----

Disclaimer over, this fic is a precursor to 'Mine is a World of Rooftops and Love Songs', the fic I wrote for New Years exploring Virgil's backstory. This one will(should) have two parts!

I'm hoping to write a similar 'backstory' fic for every side before moving onto oneshots in the 'present day'

I've decided to name this AU Forests and Rooftops, (at least for now, I might change it if I come up with something better lol)

I'll be tagging fics from this au with 'Rowan's F&R verse' on Tumblr, and they'll all be collected in a series on Ao3 :D

Happy reading!

(and apologies for such a long note

----

Here’s a list of things that Vivianne Marie Zephyr knew.

One, she was twelve years old.

Two, twelve year olds should not be trusted to make their own decisions.

Three, twelve year olds didn’t know anything about themselves or the world. (at least, according to her extended family they didn't.)

Four, Vivianne is not a girl.

Now Vivianne knows very well that she has girl parts and long hair and because of that everyone seems to think it’s ok to pester her-

Actually, if she’s not a girl, surely she shouldn’t use girl words to refer to herself, like those pesky ‘she’ pronouns that made her feel all icky and gross whenever anyone talked to her.

Maybe she should try ‘he’ instead. That’s what all the boys used. Now she- no, he - wasn’t sure if he - ok no stop that thought, the ‘he’ actually made her- him? Feel really good, all warm and fuzzy inside.

Ok, well that’s the first step. Vivianne was a ‘he’ not a she.

Obviously this revelation didn’t come immediately or all of a sudden.

She- he - had always hated it when her- his! ( Why was this so hard? It was what he wanted for gods sake!) parents called him a girl, especially hated it when they called him their little princess, or tried to style his hair or make him wear a dress for some fancy occasion. Couldn’t they see that he wasn’t a girl? Weren’t parents supposed to know that kind of stuff?

Oh well. Vivianne thought as he was going into his seventh grade homeroom for the first time after a summer moping by himself in his room doing nothing as usual. Maybe his parents just didn’t realise. Maybe he should tell them, but- uh- later. Once he’d figured out everything himself first.

Because at the moment, though he had concluded that he liked ‘he’ much, much better than ‘she’. Vivianne was still only twelve years old, and he still had a lot to learn.

—-

It took almost a week for Vivianne to get used to referring to himself with the different pronouns in his head but he was pretty sure he’d gotten it down by now. Despite that, though, he still didn’t tell anyone. He was pretty sure the other kids in his class would laugh at him, and he didn’t really have any friends he could talk to about it either. So for now, he decided he’d just do his own research. (Oh, he really really liked he pronouns).

So, that weekend, Vivianne walked to the local library, wearing the biggest and cozyist hoodie he owned (both for comfort and anonymity, even at only twelve years old, Vivianne knew that gossip at their school spread like wildfire and he didn’t want to be called a nerd on top of everything else). At the library he sat himself down at one of the old computers, pulled an empty notebook out of his bag as well as a few pens and started researching.

Now it might be weird that he did his research in the public library instead of within the safe confines of his own home, but he wasn’t quite sure about what adults would think about him not being a girl yet, especially not his parents. His parents were the last people he wanted to know about this right now, not when he wasn’t sure.

His researching took up a lot of the cool Saturday afternoon. He learned about a lot of new terms and ideas, things like ‘trans’ and ‘nonbinary’. He discovered that he wasn’t weird for not feeling like a girl and he definitely wasn’t the only one. He learned that there were also girls who had originally been boys, and people who didn’t feel like either. He discovered that there were people who sat at every point inbetween and even some people who didn’t fit on the spectrum at all.

There were so many more pronouns out there too, more than just ‘he’ and ‘she’. There was ‘they’, for starters, and then whole anthologies of other sets that he’d never even heard of. (He was a little intimidated by how large the list of neo-pronouns he found was, so he just wrote down the term and underlined it a few times in red, hoping it would remind him to come back to it later). He tried out ‘they’ pronouns on himself for now, by whispering them under his breath. They didn’t give him the same fuzzy feeling as ‘he’ did, but it still felt considerably better than the thought of ‘she’ so he would accept it.

The research session had been groundbreaking and he walked home swinging his arms back and forth, happy with the pages he’d filled up with notes.

—

“Vivianne?”

A few weeks later, when someone called him by his name he found himself so overcome with revulsion at the thought of that name belonging to him that he almost didn’t even respond to the teacher who had called on him. Because of the shock, he had muddled up the words he had been trying to say in response to her question and ended up being laughed at by most of the class. He shrank back into his seat, mumbling the last of his answer so quietly that the person sat beside him had to repeat it for the teacher.

So, Vivianne didn’t like that name. Which, now that he thought about it, actually featured in his research a little. He remembered a section about how trans people (which he had concluded was what he probably was) as well as other’s who didn’t identify with their birth gender quite often chose new names.

Now that he considered it, he hadn’t always been as comfortable with the name his parents had given him as he had thought. It was a nice name, objectively, it would have been a lovely name if he had actually been a girl and he was sure he would’ve loved it in that case. But… well he wasn’t a girl, he was aware of that much by now, so obviously ‘Vivianne’ didn’t fit.

For a few days, he tried referring to himself as ‘Viv’ instead. It was just a short version of ‘Vivianne’ and his parents called him that sometimes anyway, a nickname at best and it still felt pretty feminine. After that it was shortened just a little more to ‘Vi’.

‘Vi’ stuck for much longer than Viv had. He’d managed to co-erce his parents into calling him Vi as a new nickname and it felt good, much better than Vivianne, or even Viv. He liked the ‘V’ sound. For some reason there still felt like something was missing. Vi wasn’t his . Not in the way he thought a name should be. But it was good, better than Viv and definitely better than Vivianne. He liked it, even if it wasn’t perfect, he could search for something better later and use Vi for now. Until he found his name.

—-

About three quarters of the way through seventh grade, Vi cut his hair.

It had been in the spur of the moment and he regretted it immediately. Regretted it so much it almost brought him out of his current mental breakdown and into another one.

He had an awful day at school. The teachers kept picking on him to answer questions even though he could hardly ever find words to speak normally in school nowadays. At lunch a group of older girls had been picking on him for hiding himself away in the corner and he’d ended up going to the nurse with a scraped up knee where he fell trying to get away. His favourite hoodie had ended up getting covered in dirt and mud where he fallen. And then of course he’d had to go back to class, where everyone had laughed at him for not being able to answer a question he was picked on for because he just couldn’t force himself to speak.

During the walk home he’d worked himself up into a panic, thoughts spinning round and round his head and everything was just so much bigger and brighter than it usually was.

“Hey Vi!” His mother called from somewhere inside the house when he opened the door, “How was school, sweetheart?”

Vi didn’t answer, instead he burst into tears right there on the spot, unable to hold it in anymore. He choked back a sob and ran for the stairs, slamming his door and collapsing on the bed. He couldn’t breath, no matter how tight he curled himself he couldn’t get himself to take even breaths through the sobs.

And then he looked up, and though the tears he saw his reflection in the mirror.

He saw his long black hair, hair that fell in thick waves down his back. Now pooled around his tiny curled up form like a shawl. It made him sick. Every time he looked in a mirror, every time he saw his reflection, every time someone called him a girl .

Before he could think, Vi was standing again on shaky legs. He stood in front of the mirror, looking into his own wide blue eyes, his pale skin, his hair that fell over his shoulders. He looked like a girl. It made him so angry.

In one swoop, he grabbed the scissors from his desk and cut off the chunk that hung over his shoulder.

‘Her hair looks so beautiful!’

‘Such pretty hair for a beautiful little girl’

‘I would kill for hair like hers’

‘I would love to braid her hair…’

With each thought came another chunk, everything people would say to him, every comment about how lovely his hair was and how he should never cut it, until there was hardly anything left to cut. His hair made him a girl, and now it was gone. It felt almost a little like he’d cut away a part of himself. He felt lighter, almost, relieved, maybe.

And then he realised what a mistake he had made.

He stood in his room, finally calmer than before, but his floor was covered in hair, his hand holding the scissors was still shaking and all he could think was that his mum was going to kill him for this.

It looked horrific. He had cut some bits far too short and now they stuck out from his head, his bangs were now the only part of his hair that looked presentable, being the only part he didn’t touch. The rest of his hair made him look a little like he’d been mauled.

Some parts were cut so short he could see his scalp.

Cutting his hair hadn’t made him look like a boy. It had just made him look stupid, he would be a laughing stock.

He didn’t know what to do. So for a long while he just stood there, staring at his own reflection as silent tears dripped down his face. What the hell would happen now? What would his parents say when they found out? He’d get in so much trouble, and then- school was a whole other issue.

If he was already being bullied for barely speaking and altogether being skinny and small for his age, Vi would be bullied tenfold for this, he’d have the whole school after him, if his parents didn’t murder him first.

Speak of the devil, someone knocked on the door.

“Vi… honey? Are you in there?” His mother called through the door, “I heard you crying before, may I come in?”

“N-no-!” Virgil said as loud as he could, it was still barely an inside voice, “Please- don’t.”

“Alright,” She said, “I won’t come in, but… if you’re up for talking you can come to the door?”

Vi sniffed, before taking a deep breath that ended up choked by a sob. In the end he was able to step over the hair and sit down with his back to the bedroom door.

“I- I’m here,” Virgil said, resting his chin on his knees and trying to wipe some of the tears from his face. He could hear shifting on the other side of the door. His mum must be sitting down as well.

“Good,” She said, her voice quiet, “Now, are you ok?”

“No,” Vi said miserably, he wasn’t ok, he really wasn’t. Not right now. He knew by now that keeping his feelings a secret was no way to deal with them, this kind of conversation- with the bedroom door between them- had been happening since Vi had his own room in the house. There was no point keeping his feelings from her anyway, she could always tell, somehow, even if he didn’t tell her.

“Can you tell me what you’re feeling?” She asked, Vi squeezed his knees tighter to his chest.

“Upset, angry,” He mumbled.

“Can you tell me why?”

“School,” Vi answered, “Mostly- teachers keep calling me and- I can’t say the answer even though I know it a-and everyone laughs at me-”

“Oh sweetheart-” His mom paused, “Why are you angry?”

“At- at myself, mostly,” He almost whispered, “I… did something stupid.”

There was a long pause before his mother spoke.

“Can you tell me what you did, sweetheart?”

“I don’t- I don’t wanna,” He mumbled, “You’re- gonna be mad…”

“I won’t,” she said, “I promise you, whatever has happened I won’t be mad at you,”

“You promise?” He asked, he was still certain she’d be angry, one of his hands had come to clutch at the uneven strands of hair that jutted out from his head at odd angles now, she had always loved his hair.

“I promise,” She told him, her voice firm and reassuring. Vi still didn’t believe her, but she would find out at one point or another anyway. So he stood up, took a step back and opened the door.

She gasped when she saw him, hand flying to cover her mouth and eyes wide in shock.

Vi looked away, “I told you you’d be mad,”

“Oh honey I- I’m not mad,” She said, taking a deep breath, “Just- shocked! What happened?”

“I… I just got so angry- with- with myself and with everyone else and- I did it before I even realised what I was doing…” He said after a few deep breaths, looking away as he spoke so she wouldn’t see the tears welling up in his eyes again.

“Oh, darling that’s ok,” She said, crouching down to look up at him, “What were you so angry about?”

“Just- just the way everyone talks- and- how my hair looks so girlish and makes everyone say stupid stuff about how pretty it makes me a- and I don’t like it- so- so I just-” Vi cut off, he hadn’t meant to say that, he was trying to keep all this boy stuff a secret until he was sure about it-

“You don’t like being pretty?” His mother asked, Vi shook his head.

“No- it’s- it’s not about being pretty,” He sniffed, wiping away more tears, “It’s- it’s um, it’s that pretty is a girl thing…”

His voice was barely audible now, but she heard him and smiled fondly.

“So you don’t like girl things?” She asked. Vi nodded, hand fisting in the hem of his sweater, “Any reason why?”

“They- they make me feel uncomfortable, all icky and gross, like I’m sick,” He mumbled, oh well, he was deep enough into it now, “Cuz I’m not a girl,”

“I see,” She nodded, “If you’re not a girl, then what are you?”

“A boy,” He said, before pausing, “I think- I um- I didn’t want to tell you until I was sure… but…”

“I understand,” She nodded, before tapping his head lightly, “Now, we can fix this.”

“We can?” He asked, “Wait- you’re- you’re ok? With me not being a girl?”

“Of course we can,” She nodded, “We might need to wait for it to grow out a little bit, but we can take you to a hairdresser who can cut it however you’d like, ok? And- of course I’m ok with it! What sort of mother would I be if I stopped caring for you because you’re not a girl?”

Vi sighed in relief, slumping forwards and hugging her around the middle, she returned the gesture, squeezing him tight.

“Now, lets clean up this mess together and you can tell me all about not being a girl, okay?”

—-

The next day, Vi wore a beanie to school to cover up the absolute mess that was his hair.

He’d left his bangs out, and actually he quite liked how it ended up looking. He didn’t look as much like a girl with the beanie, and that felt… really nice.

It was weird, not having all of his hair anymore. It was weirdly relieving, even if he was absolutely terrified all day that someone would ask him a question or a teacher would ask him to remove the beanie. Or worse, that someone would take it off by force.

Which, of course, because Vi can never have a nice day, is what happened at lunch.

He was cornered by the bullies again. They were taunting him about his new lack of hair and had backed him against the wall. One of them had reached forward and snatched the beanie whilst he wasn’t looking at her and all four of the girls had gone silent before bursting out into peals of laughter. Vi had ran, trying to hold back tears until he’d gotten somewhere away from people. He’d ended up hiding himself away behind the bushes surrounding the old bike shed- it was usually quiet at this end of the school and he hoped no-one had followed him as he sank to the ground and tried to fight back tears.

“Hey!” Someone called, followed by the sound of said person forcing their way through the bushes despite there being a path just on the other side. Vi’s head snapped up to look at them and they grinned when he met their eyes, “Hey! I got your beanie back!”

Vi blinked slowly, he’d never seen this kid before, so they must not be in the same classes even though they looked the same age. He had a white streak in the front of his dark brown hair, which was cool. Bright green eyes and a curly mustache that looked to be drawn onto his face with marker. He was holding Vi’s beanie, just like he’d said, and was still grinning ear to ear.

“Oh right, you don’t talk much, do you?” He said, “I heard rumours, but anyway, here,”

He came over and held out the beanie. Vi hesitated, before reaching out to take it. The stranger grinned, before turning and slumping down next to him with a thud, making Vi jump.

“So! What’s the story with the hair?” He asked, leaning forward, “Oh, wait, what’s your name? I’m Remus!”

Vi made a quiet noise, trying to collect his thoughts. Should he tell Remus his name? He should tell him his real name, right? But then Remus would call him that- but then what if he changed Vi and then- well, Remus probably wouldn’t stick around long enough for that anyway, so… maybe it didn’t matter what he said, or, didn’t say because no matter how hard he tried, the words ‘I’m Vi’ wouldn’t make their way out of his mouth. He huffed, before reaching for his bag and grabbing a notepad and opening it to the front page. He turned it to face Remus and tapped the inside front cover, on which he’d written ‘Vi’s Research Notebook’.

“He speaks! Speaks through the book, at least!” Remus cheered and Virgil was immediately stunned by the use of ‘he’ because to everyone else he was a girl, being called ‘he’ by someone else felt almost like a metaphorical punch to the gut, but… in a good way? “Um- why’re you looking at me like that?”

Vi shrugged uselessly, though he couldn’t seem to get that astounded expression off of his face.

“Was it cuz I called you ‘he’? Cuz that’s just what I thought you were- I couldn’t really tell by looking at you-”

Virgil cut him off by shaking his head, frantically tapping the book where, underneath his name he had written down ‘He/him’. Well, at least this book was coming in useful now.

“Oh great! Me too!” Remus grinned, “Wait then why were you looking at me weird?”

Vi paused, taking a deep breath before flicking to the back of the book and grabbing a pen, writing quickly: ‘Most people think I’m a girl, that’s why I cut my hair.’

“Oooooh!” Remus nodded after leaning forward to read the words, and Vi was once again stunned, because… that was ok? “Well you did a real shoddy job but I respect the effort! So, Vi, what’s school really like? I’m new see and I’ve just gotten out of doing tours and stuff with my stupid brother cuz for some reason they thought it’d be best to leave me with someone I knew even though my brother’s a donkey.”

Vi couldn’t help but let out a soundless laugh, something he tried not to do in school- mainly because people would prod at him for it. He hated questions from them most of all. He grabbed his pen again and wrote down ‘Why’d you join late?’ on the line below the previous statement. This was actually a pretty good way to communicate with someone who was actually willing to wait a second for his answers. Maybe he should talk to his parents about it.

“Oh ‘cuz a few years ago I skipped a grade but like all this year I’ve been in hospital so they put me back where I was supposed to be cuz I missed most of this year.”

He hummed, nodding along while he fidgeted with some grass, before flicking through the book and opening it to a double page on which he had written down things he’d noticed about the teachers- which would let you off with homework, who was best to go to with problems, who was worst. Once Vi was pretty sure Remus had read enough of the page to get the gist, he flicked back to the back and wrote ‘I can show you all the good hiding spots are too.’

“Perfect!” Remus grinned, bouncing a little, ��I think we’re gonna get along great, new friend!”

—-

It turned out that Vi only shared one of his classes with Remus, which was annoying because he might have been able to get through all of the bullying about his hair if he had a friend with him (he’d never really had one of those before, wasn’t that exciting?). But for now he was stuck being passed notes with horribly ugly drawings of him, or whispered name calling and even more notes that called him mean names.

At least even after learning Vi’s real name Remus kept calling him Vi, and kept using ‘he’ too, even though people called him weird for it. It made Vi very happy, which was all that seemed to matter where Remus was concerned.

—-

It was only a few days later, after he’d spent lunch behind the bike shed with Remus (it turned out to become a good meeting spot) that his teacher had arrived late to class.

Usually a teacher being late would mean extra time to chat with your classmates. Usually the three kids who already had phones would be gathered around while they played some stupid video of kittens chasing lights, or something else that they considered funny enough to save to their phones.

Not today though, because a teacher being late to Vi’s class meant that the kids in the class who liked to pick on him could gang up on him like they did during lunch.

Someone spooked him from behind his desk, making him flinch and cover his head.

“Not even gonna stand up for yourself? Scrawny little freak?” Someone called from over his head, Virgil only squeaked pathetically and curled up further in his chair as someone pushed him roughly, almost enough to move the chair itself, “Look at her! She’s so pathetic!”

“What’s wrong? Cant hide behind your hair anymore?” Someone else mocked, “Oh yeah, cuz you hacked it all off, what’d you use again, a hedgecutter?”

“She does look a little like a dead bush,” A boy commented, “She looks a little like the thing my dad ran over in the road this morning!”

The people around him broke out into noises that were a mix of disgust and laughter, Vi just curled further into his seat, gripping his own arms in a death grip as the other students continued to poke and prod at him.

“Hey!” Someone yelled over the noise of the students, Vi shuddered, even without looking he could feel the magic from whoever this kid was, and Vi doubted he was even doing anything right now, “What’re you all doing? Get away from her!”

Most of the students paused then, turning to face the voice, some of them whispered.

“It’s him!” They said, “The kid who lives in the forests with the faeries !”

“Really? I thought that was just a rumour!” They said.

“I’ve seen him going with my own eyes!” They said, “It’s true! He goes in and comes out, every time, completely fine and safe!”

“Is he cursed? Does he have magic? Is he a faerie himself?”

“No need for all the whispers,” The someone they were all talking about called over the frenzied whispers, silencing them immediately, “Why don’t we all calm down and go to our seats, ok?”

“Or what?” Someone with more bravery than common sense yelled from the crowd, “You’re gonna get your pixie friends to come and giggle at us?”

“You’d probably be smarter not to insult the fae,” The person said, “They don’t like being mocked, and they have ways of finding out…”

Most of the class had scrambled back to their seats by now. Now that the crowds were gone, Vi felt that it was safe enough to look up and when he did he saw that the only students who were still standing were Kailee, one of the girls who liked to bully him, and a boy. The boy must be the one speaking, because who else could it be. He was short, but nowhere near Vi’s level. His eyes were blue, but not in the same ghostly-pale sometimes creepy way Virgil’s were, they reminded him more of a sunny day, kind and warm, though Virgil felt the tingle of something supernatural when he looked into them too long. Instead he looked at the other boy’s hair, dirty blond and falling in waves down to his chin. Most notable, though, was the brightly coloured flower crown he wore atop his head. Intricately weaved better than anything Virgil had ever seen with what looked like real flowers, pink and baby blue and a soft yellow.

What really surprised him was the magic, though, the feeling of magic rolling off of him. Vi knew he had some kind of… sense, for magic, but it had never felt half as strong as this before… whoever this kid was…

He and Kailee stared at each other for a minute before she gave up, rolling her eyes and stomping back over to her seat. When their eyes met, the other boy smiled and gave him a thumbs up before walking away and sitting down at the edge of the room just before the teacher had come in.

…No matter who he was, Vi thought he couldn’t be anything but trustworthy.

—-

Vi never talked to the faerie boy, to be fair on him, he never talked to anyone. He also didn’t like referring to him as ‘the faerie boy’ because even though the kid was easily beautiful enough to be, he wasn’t actually fae, he just lived with them, but he didn’t have a better name to call him and Vi was far too anxious to ask. He really wanted to thank the boy for standing up for him, both the first time and the few times it happened afterwards too. Vi was so grateful to him, and probably owed him a whole lot- which might be bad, actually, if this kid really did live with the fae- but because of his intervention people had started to leave him alone.

There was always the occasional thing, someone would trip him or push him or throw little taunts or quips, but the majority of people had decided to leave him alone for the most part. It seemed that knowing Virgil was protected by the boy who befriended the faerie courts was enough deterrent for the most part.

Vi still couldn’t speak and school still wasn’t great. He and Remus still spent lunches behind the bike shed because even though Vi wasn’t followed by bullies everywhere he went now, people still stared and whispered and it made him uncomfortable. Teachers still found amusement in picking on him during class and watching him struggle to answer, in classes he didn’t share with the faerie boy people still laughed at him for it.

But it was… better. Vi decided it was much better than it had been.

—-

The rest of seventh grade passed in a blur for Vi.

Somehow, he had managed to remain friends with Remus. The rumours that had been spread hadn’t scared him off and somehow neither had Vi’s inability to speak nor his limited fashion sense (Remus had tried to persuade him to wear something other than hoodies and baggy trousers a few times to no avail over the time they spent together).

They had quickly started hanging out outside of school too, since it turned out that both of them had a lot of free time on their hands. His parents had been ecstatic to find out that he now had a friend and Remus said that his own parents were glad to have some peace and quiet for once. They’d started slowly, just with Remus coming over for an evening after school one day or another, but that had very quickly become them spending every weekend they could together. If the weather was good they’d go out, to the park mostly where they’d get ice-cream or a chocolate bar and then sit and just exist together for hours. If the weather wasn’t so good they’d spend time in Virgil’s house, or at the library- though Remus didn’t like the library that much- or the coffee shop near the school.

Vi really thought this whole thing was brilliant. He had someone he could connect with, who wanted to spend time with him. Someone who was loud and boisterous and downright intolerable at times to make up for Vi’s quiet and anxious dimeaner. They balanced each other out perfectly. Vi’s mother said it was fate, Vi didn’t believe in such things, but… he couldn’t deny that having Remus as a friend was… pretty cool.

And even more importantly, now he had someone to study for his finals with.

Since 6th grade was ending and exams were almost on top of them, Vi, of course, was already getting incredibly stressed over them. He’d found- after finally getting Remus to sit down to study after half an hour of insistence- that ssitting in his bedroom and listening to Remus ramble about whatever units they had been learning was far better in comparison than making notes on a textbook for the hundredth time. Listening to Remus made it interesting, like he was using the biology they’d been learning to tell a story without leaving any of the gross bits out. Vi had found himself laughing so hard he wheezed by the end of it and came out confident that he wouldn’t forget the bio content any time soon.

Every exam came and went with just as much stress as usual. Vi was sure he’d had more panic attacks than last year- not that he was keeping count. Even with the increased amount of panic, though, he found himself going into every exam calm- or as calm as he could, given the circumstances- after Remus found him and talked him down from his worries every time.

Having a friend made the problem so much easier for him to deal with and Vi couldn’t be more grateful for it. Remus managed to drag Vi out of his little ball of stress after every exam he had and take him to get ice-cream (something else he’d definitely had more of than last year) all whilst saying with no hint of a doubt that Vi aced them.

As summer began and Vi prepared to have Remus breaking down his door every morning for the next eight weeks, got ready to be busy over the summer for the first time in his life, he couldn’t think of anything better that he could be doing.

Finally, his life was just a little bit better.

And all it took was the knowledge that he was not a girl.

----

| Next -> |

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #Rowans R&F verse #NewYears Verse #gpnna put the old and new tag on there in case anyone is confused #sanders sides virgil #ts virgil #virgil sanders #remus sanders #ts remus

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josiehook200 · 2 years ago

Text

I posted 397 times in 2022

That's 397 more posts than 2021!

55 posts created (14%)

342 posts reblogged (86%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@descendantofthesparrow

@harriyanna

@ishiphumasohard

@worm-in-a-trenchcoat

I tagged 65 of my posts in 2022

#the invitation - 43 posts

#the invitation 2022 - 40 posts

#walter de ville - 26 posts

#youtube - 26 posts

#thomas doherty - 20 posts

#walter deville - 19 posts

#tumblr milestone - 9 posts

#descendants - 8 posts

#harry hook descendants - 5 posts

#harry hook - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 74 characters

#seriously guys go and check out sparrow’s stories for the invitation(2022)

My Top Posts in 2022:

Nuptials Of Blood, Chapter 6

Kasey

As the last verse or two of the song plays, the manor appears in our view. Holy crap! That's not a manor, that's a mini castle!

"Nadia! What website did you find this on?"

"Technically it was Jeremy that found it."

"Okay, what website did he find it on and how did he find it?"

"Technically, Jeremy didn't find the manor. The manor found him."

"Excuse me? How did the Manor find him?"

"I dunno, but somehow the Manor found him." Oh my God, there is a good chance we may die here. I got to stop watching True Crime. The driver stops the car and helps us get our stuff out. I try to a picture of the license plate when I bumped into someone behind me.

"Oh, sorry Sir!"

"You really need to watch where you're going." Asshole!

"Sorry, didn't even though you were behind me. You don't need to be rude about."

"Ma'am--"

"Renfield, be nicer to our guests." I look over at the people walking towards us. I'm going to assume that's our hosts. I see the dark-haired woman walk towards me. I put my phone in my purse to hold my hand to shake hers.

"Hi, you're Viktoria Deville?"

"Why, yes I am."

"I'm Kassandra Larson. The two that are dancing like lunatics are Shannon Fuller and Nadia Larson, and the girl that needs to get off her phone for ten minutes is Sienna Fuller." We stop shaking hands.

"Ah, Kassandra. The one who's been Mr. Brooding for the past month is my little brother, Walter." I shake his hand. Wow, really strong grip. Grandpa would be proud. Although he has a firm grip, there's something off about him. I mean there's something off about all three of them but, he's making me really wonder if we should just go back home now. He doesn't seem like a bad guy but, there's a reason why the term, Devil in disguise exists. I stop shaking his hand.

"And the Pomeranian is our baby sister, Lucy." I end up getting hugged by her.

"Wow, you give really tight hugs. You would get well with my Uncle Rhett." The woman known as Lucy stops hugging me when she gets pulled off by her siblings. So, Viktoria is the oldest, Mr. Deville's the middle, and Lucy's the baby. Interesting.

"Thank you for understanding when we had to change the reservation three weeks ago."

"Not a problem. I'm sorry about your cousin's situation."

"Thank you, I mean." I kinda look at Nadia while talking to Viktoria.

"She was with him for 2 years and she did really love him. She seems to be getting over him, but it will take a while." I notice Mr. Deville's expression towards Nadia.

Viktoria

"She was with him for 2 years and she did really love him. She seems to be getting over him, but it will take a while." I notice Walter's expression towards Nadia. I also notice that Kassandra seems to be very wary about Walter. As much as I love my brother, I wouldn't blame her. Especially since I can now tell that Mr. "Can't keep it in his pants" is out and Mr. Brooding is gone for now.

"I see. Reinfeld, will you escort our guests to their rooms? So they can unpack before Supper."

"Of course, Madam Deville."

Kasey

"I see. Reinfeld, will you escort our guests to their rooms? So they can unpack before Supper." She have something in common with Grandma.

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4 notes - Posted October 3, 2022

Nuptials Of Blood master list

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

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5 notes - Posted October 2, 2022

Nuptials of Blood, Chapter 1

Kasey

"Miss. Larson, we liked your manuscript but,the events in your memoir seem all too fictional to be real." Fictional? FICTIONAL! Please, I wish it was all just fiction. My family is as messed up as it is written in my memoir, but whatever, I guess. I toss my original copy of my manuscript onto the front passenger seat of my car. 10th publisher that has rejected my book. I open my glove box and pull out one of my many packs of gum. I open the pack I grabbed and grab a stick of gum. I put the pack back and close the glove box. I unwrap the stick and stick it in my mouth. I begin to chew it furiously. I hear my phone buzz. I grab my purse and dig through it to find my phone. When I find my phone, I see a notification from Instagram. I open it and see it's an instant message from a user called Greek Warrior?

Greek Warrior: Hey Cutie 😘 Ugh. It's from Andrew, my ex.

"We broke up two years ago, Andrew! Move on!" I toss my phone back into my purse and turn the car on. Andrew and I broke up due to personal reasons, mainly because I thought he might have been cheating on me but I can't prove whether or not he was cheating. After we broke up, I started to work on my memoir that I'm having a hard time finding a publisher that’s willing to publish it. I've been on the journey to get this publish for at least over a year now. Took me a year to write it and now it's taken me a year so far to get it publish. I pull out of the parking spot and out of the parking lot. I hear my phone buzz a lot but, can't look at my phone right now, I'm driving. While driving home, I see a billboard for an upcoming rom-com. Another cheesy romance movie...Maybe I've been single for too long. Haven't really dated anyone since Andrew. Maybe I can find a date for Nadia's wedding? How am I going to find a date in three weeks?

After a few red lights, I finally pull into the parking lot of the apartment that I currently share with Shannon and Sienna. I moved out of my parents house when I was 22 after I graduated college with my English degree. That was 4 years ago which means that I'm currently 26. I had originally bought the apartment for myself but, a year into me living there, Shannon and Nadia moved in with me much to my Aunt Felicia and Uncle Knox's forced advice. So, Shannon's been living here for 3 years and Nadia moved out a year ago to live with her soon to be husband. Shannon's a 25 year old freelance animator while Nadia's a 25 year preschool teacher. Shannon got their degree in art and went to art school while Nadia got her degree in education and early childhood studies. Sienna moved in 2 years ago, shortly before I broke up with Andrew and after we met Nadia's soon to be husband, Jeremy. My aunt Felicia bribed me to let her move in with me. Sienna is a 23 year old professional cheerleader for one of the minor league football teams. Sienna, I guess, went to college. Her major I believe is still along with what she does for a job currently. I love Sienna dearly, but I do tend to tune her out a lot. While I'm trying to find a spot, I see Nadia's car? Why is she here at 10:30 at night? I thought she would be at home with Jeremy. I finally pull into a spot, turn off my car, take off my seatbelt, grab my stuff, and get out of my car. I walk over to my apartment building, unlocking it so I can get in. I walk up the stairs to the 3rd floor and walk to apartment 3D. I unlock the door and walk in.

"Hey guys, I'm home." I put my stuff down and why do I see Nadia's stuff here? I look up and see Nadia crying on Shannon's shoulder. I put my stuff and walk over to the couch where they're sitting. Sienna's busy doing something on her phone, as usual.

"Nadia? What's wrong? Why are you here at almost 10:40 at night? Shouldn't you be at home with Jeremy?" Nadia breaks out into a loud sob before she answers my questions.

"WE BROKE UP!"

"You what now?"

Next Chapter

6 notes - Posted October 2, 2022

Kasey(Kassandra Larson) and Walter Deville from my current fanfic, Nuptials Of Blood. Made Walter look more like Harry Hook but, luckily that both characters have the same actor.

6 notes - Posted September 30, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Nuptials Of Blood, Chapter 11

Walter

I've been trying to find Nadia all over the estate and so far, I can't find her. I'm guess she might be in her room. I open the door without knocking because what I need to discuss with her is very important.

"Nadia, there's something important we need to discuss..." I just walked in on Kassandra being nude.

"Nadia, what have I told you about —KNOCKING!" Kassandra covers herself with the towel. Because of what I have seen, I have already forgotten why I even came in here.

Viktoria

"Nadia, what have I told you about — KNOCKING!" And he did it again. Great. I put my book down and stand up.

"Lucy!"

"Yea?"

"Come along."

"He did it again?"

"Yes, he did it again." I head for the Larson's room with Lucy right behind me.

Kasey

Oh shit, I just flashed Mr. Deville! Great. Flashing one of our hosts was the last thing I wanted to do this week. I'm already red from embarrassment.

"Mr. Deville, why are you in here? Besides this is your home but, still. Why are you in here?"

"I uh, uh." Has he always have fangs since we've met him? Because I don't remember seeing those on the first day we got here. I make the mistake of looking down and well, we don't have to figure out if he's a biological guy or not. Even though that was never a worry since I don't think any of us were planning on sleeping with him. Lucy and Viktoria come running in.

Viktoria

Lucy and I come running in. I see that we're too late. Walter is already mentally gone.

"I'm sorry about him. He does have manners but, tends to not use them."

"Quick question, do all three of you have fangs?" And Walter just almost outed that we're vampires. Okay, need to think of a quick lie which I know of one I can use.

"Yes, it's hereditary. We come from a long line of-"

"Canines." Really, Lucy!

"We're not dogs. Great Grandpa was not a dog. There were rumors about him having relations with a dog but, he was not a dog."

"Wasn't he also accused of having relations with some one who acted like a-" I cover Lucy's mouth with my hand, mainly because I know what she was going to say.

"Yes, he was. But, even then that person wasn't a dog." I uncover my hand from Lucy's mouth and make the mistake of looking down at my brother. Well, we know what sex of the human species he prefers and that part of him isn't dead.

"We're sorry about him and we will going now." I grab Walter by his shoulder and just start dragging him with Lucy trailing behind.

Kasey

Viktoria, Lucy, and horny Mr. Deville leave the room. Lucy closes the door behind her. I lock the door. Don't want to take a chance that Nadia or the others aren't going to barge while I'm not decent. I take off the towel, change into the clothes that I grabbed from my bag, hang up the towel, unlock the door, walk out of the room, and close the door behind me.

Viktoria

I don't stop dragging my brother along until we get to his room.

See the full post

8 notes - Posted October 5, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #false #That’s a lot especially since I’ve been only been back on Tumblr since September

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kaleb-is-definitely-sane · 1 month ago

Note

I am CURIOUS what are YOUR favorite modern and historical theologians and specific works you like and why?

You must forgive me for taking ages cause I am very bad at answering these lol. I am also not especially well versed in theologians but even those I haven't read, I am still pretty familiar with their philosophy

Okay so my favorites are

Athanasius: He's first cause he's my new hero. I adore him. Arianism sucks and my guy got exiled repeatedly trying to put a stop to it

Timothy Makie: Yall knew he would be here. The only reason he's not first is because Athanasius is an icon. Tim Mackie is my absolute favorite I watch all their videos, listen to their podcasts, watch his sermons, etc. He has completely changed the way I read and think about the scriptures and he always has great book recommendations. He's also why I want to go into Biblical Studies.

Julian of Norwich: Maybe I'm being fast and loose with the term "theologian" but... I don't really care. She's here because "all is well and all shall be well and all manner of thing shall be exceedingly well" is something I repeat on an almost daily basis. Her Revelations of Divine Love is marvelous. And the way she manages abstract thought all the while keeping the incarnate view of Jesus in mind is also incredible. Also: the earliest known woman writer in English. Also, also: She's a mystic. Ofc I was gonna mention her

N.T. Wright: Gosh I love this man. He's been very influential on my reading of Paul and of the resurrection of the dead (by which I mean, causing me to realize it was a thing to begin with). I firmly agree with him that we have to ground Paul in his First Century Jewish context to understand what it is he's saying.

Paul: The multi-ethnic family of God. His efforts towards ensuring that Christianity was not just a Jewish religion but a catholic (universal) religion are unparalleled. Now days people love to hate Paul, but no one ever could make me do so. He worked so hard to create peace and order in what was and still is the most diverse religion in the world. Also, the man loved hymns lol. I don't believe he wrote the hymns we find in his letters (something about Paul doesn't give me "hymnographer vibes" iykwim) but he definitely has good taste. "The Image of the Invisible God" is my favorite.

Esau McCaulley: I heard him speak one time and was sold. He thinks very similar to me on quite a few topics but, being schooled and more learned, is able to bring them to levels I had never even considered. I love his use of Revelation in his political philosophy because it is the bedrock of mine lol. Also I loved him laughing at the British for saying that Paul's tone in Galatians was the problem. Like WHAT!? Never have I ever read Paul and went "Oh Paul's problem is his tone." That is THE MOST stereotypically British thing someone could ever say lol. Also Paul talks the way I do-

John: I have an entire tag dedicated to him. John the Apostle. John the Theologian. John the Son of Thunder. John the Witness. John the Undying. John the Visionary. John the Elder. John the Youngest. John the Mystic. John the Poet. John the Beloved. John whose name means "Graced by Yahweh". John who begins and ends his gospel with moments of intimacy. John who's life is like thunder: filled with love and death. John was in Jesus' innermost circle. John who rests his head on Jesus' bosom while he speaks, listening to the heartbeat of the Lord. John who needs to remind everyone that he is the one Jesus loved. John who stayed with the women during the passion and wasn't ashamed of sharing their pain. John who was the only one who wasn't martyred. John who was the one martyred at Jesus' crucifixion. John who is trusted to take Mary as his mother. John who beat Peter to the empty tomb. John who is the first one to see Jesus from the boat post-resurrection. John who's symbol is the eagle, marked for clairvoyance and observation. John who saw a vision of Jesus with breasts. John who was gifted an apocalypse where he saw Jesus and his followers conquer the world through their deaths. John the patron saint of love and friendship and loyalty and writers and poets and mystics and theologians. Also he's an INFP like myself lol

C.S. Lewis: As If I need to freaking explain. I wish to read everything he's written. I can only name one thing he's said that I disagree with (he's anti-pacifist) but even then I can fundamentally understand where he's coming from.

Augustine of Hippo: I have a love/dislike relationship with him. Much of Protestantism and Calvinism get's it's philosophy from him... and much of it I disagree with (see: Original Sin or Just War for example). But like his moral philosophy is splendid! His theodicy helped me develop my own (we both agree that evil is lack and is un-real for example. Moral evil is disordered love). "God is more intimate to me than my most intimate being." "The only way to have all you desire and want no evil is to have God" !!!!!! Like!? Also I love a good quality "rake to saint" story also while he was *kinda* sexist, I deeply appreciate how he never blamed women for his lust and sin, always maintaining his own responsibility. Icon.

Thomas Aquinas: Gosh I love this man. His arguments for God's existence. His moral philosophy. His political philosophy. His reconciliation of Aristotle, ARISTOTLE!!!! His explanation of transubstantiation. Need I go on?

Haven't read John Piper (and he's Calvinist so. There's that.) but he's got a concept called "Christian Hedonism" in his book Desiring God and I just love a good quality provocative name lol. (Inspiration between eventually naming my book on the theodicy "God is Un-Real"). I also would fight back against his critics who say that there is no similarity between his concept and philosophical hedonism. If Epicureanism can be considered hedonism, so can this. And I myself am a Christian Hedonist. In Greek philosophy hedone/joy/pleasure was the product of love and the soul. If God is Love, I find this equation of love + human = pleasure still tracks because God + human = joy. Both Aristotle and Aquinas believed that happiness was the highest (natural) good. Aquinas took it farther to say that the highest spiritual good is "joy everlasting". The concepts are quite similar.

@eesirachs. I love here lol. The way she approaches scripture is quite different from me, but one thing certainly cannot be denied: you never read her writing without coming away with something to contemplate or meditate on. Also she always gives marvelous answers to my inquiries

Some names of the top of my head: Tim Keller; Hildegard of Bingen; Crispin Fletcher-Lewis; Andrew Rillera; Amy Peeler; Josh Matthews; Gustavo Gutiérrez; Peter J. Leithart; Scot McKnight; Ray Lubeck; John Sailhamer; Adele Berlin; Brevard Childs; Morna D. Hooker; Karl Barth; Michael Fishbane; Abraham Heschel; Richard Bauckham; Michael Heiser; Robert Alter; J. Richard Middleton; Christopher J.H. Wright; Richard B. Hayes

I haven't read all of these (obviously) but I know from a very trustworthy source that they are very good

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limelited · 4 years ago

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happy valentine’s day, heather. i’m at a loss for words but hopefully the flowers make up for it. ❤️

- erika @kamauea

she didn’t expect the bed to be empty first thing in the morning. or, maybe she just hoped it wouldn’t be cold to the touch. sleep still heavy on her eyelids, she stumbles her way through the chilly apartment, bare feet padding against the wooden floor in her search for caffeine. and while she didn’t expect the bed to be empty, she could have never imagined such a beautiful bouquet would greet her instead.

in the solitude of her own home, her eyes fill with tears, obscuring the scrawl on the note attached. she wipes the emotion from her eyes away as she pulls the bouquet close, breathes in deeply before exhaling with a grin. all she needed to do now was decide on the appropriate response.

#( ❀ ) well you got your answer. ( *IC ANSWERED )#( ❀ ) maybe i can be someone’s old lady some day. ( *SOA VERSE )#000 #kamauea #kamauea // 002 #oh god i need to change all her verse tags now #CK I GOT OUT OF BED FOR THIS

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 3 years ago

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story page | talk to me/join the tag list | the playlist

wc: 5.3K

PART 19

Sweatpants low around your hips, a pair of biker shorts underneath for when you got too hot in the rented warehouse space. Luis clapped his hands and shook his head, the band fell apart and the sound died out before you could even take the microphone out of its stand.

“What on earth did I fuck up in those two seconds?” You laughed, a playful glare at your choreographer when he came closer to your mark on the floor.

“Nothing, nothing,” he promised. “But if we’re going with the change in the setlist that you mentioned the other night we’ll have to rework the end of this.”

You nodded--your musical director was over near the makeshift sound booth and seemingly too distracted by whatever a soundtech was pointing at. A problem for later. Luis agreed with a smile. “Can someone jot that down as an issue to address at tomorrow’s run through?”

An intern with a clipboard nodded quickly and you smiled, looked down to the floor and lined up your toes to the blue tape that Luis had laid down a few weeks ago.

You leaned into the microphone, your voice echoing through the rehearsal space when you smiled. “For the eighth time, if Luis can let go and just see how we do.”

Your band laughed, the lights dimmed a little and you heard the count through your in-ears.

The opening verse was easy enough: stay in one spot, bounce to the beat until the pre-chorus hit and you were set to pull your mic from the stand and head down the catwalk out front. Which, for now, was simply a six-foot wide lane marked by neon pink tape on the black floor.

You did as you and Luis had planned, headed down closer to the sound booth and smiled at Mia when she looked up from her phone. It was Wednesday, your third day this week in the giant warehouse somewhere West of the city. Things were coming together: choreo, the band, the lighting cues and video graphics that would play on the giant screens overhead.

Tomorrow would be a dress rehearsal, everything moving in the right direction now that wardrobe had been finalized and the band had their last fitting a few days prior. So you shook your hips and made a funny face at Mia, your eyes trailing over to the corner of the space when a door opened and a familiar face took in the sight of the whirring and buzzing and overall rocking in the room.

He had a baseball hat on, smiled over at you when your eyes met.

You fell out of step for a second--something Luis would be sure to mention later when he gave notes--but were quick to fall back into the beat when you clipped your microphone in a new stand at the end of the pretend catwalk. A guitar tech appeared, magically, as planned, and helped slide a guitar strap over your shoulder before you played along with the band.

Jason, who had now found a spot beside Mia and watched you bounce along with the music, adjusted the hat on his head before he clapped his hands together once the song was finished.

Mia did the same but you leaned into the mic. “Applause is not necessary for that trainwreck.”

Luis pressed the button on the mic pack on his hip, letting his voice carry out into the big room. “Couldn’t agree more--let’s take five, okay?”

He walked a few steps over and you handed the guitar back to the tech who was waiting to fetch it. “Okay--so, don’t forget that you need the mic to be back in the stand before you get to the second verse, you don’t have all day to get down here.”

“I know,” you breathed out, a quick smile when you glanced over to where Jason stood. “I was mildly distracted during that one.”

Luis looked over his shoulder, rolled his eyes when he noticed the new audience member. “Oh my god,” he teased. “You’re crazy and unprofessional.”

“Can we make that take five a take ten?” You offered your pleading smile, one that Luis had been seeing for the last ten years in your career.

“Fine,” he groaned. “But only ten!”

“You’re the love of my life,” you told Luis, a pinch to his side when you headed towards Jason and Mia. He hadn’t said for sure if he’d show up and say hi, mentioned last night that he might get out of filming early and wouldn’t be too far from the rehearsal space.

He smiled when you approached, Mia looked between the two of you when you told him: “You’re gonna get me fired.”

“Me?” He asked, a finger at his own chest when Mia stifled a laugh.

“Yeah--can’t keep my focus on the dancing and shit when you show up mid-song.”

“Oh, boohoo,” Mia chided with a smirk. “You guys are disgusting.”

“Fine, then we’ll go be disgusting in my dressing room,” you rolled your eyes at her. Jason fell into step behind you, you took a gulp from the water bottle that Mia had been holding for you as you led him out of the big room.

“You realize that they can’t fire you, right?”

“Sounds like you know it’ll be your fault if they do,” you eyed him over your shoulder.

You pushed open the door, a small room with a couch and a makeup counter that was currently stocked with water and snacks. He stepped inside, took a look around the room before his eyes landed on you.

“What?”

“You looked really good out there.”

“Thanks,” you walked over to the counter and hopped up. “We’re still ironing out the smaller details but we have all of the songs choreographed and we start with full wardrobe tomorrow.”

He smiled, you took another swig from your water bottle.

“No, like, I mean you looked hot.”

“Oh,” you made a face, feeling anything but in your sweatpants and sports bra and with the probable layer of sweat over your forehead. You reached for a bag of cheez-its, tugged it open. He watched with a smirk as you threw a handful into your mouth. “I wouldn’t say this is my sexiest outfit.”

“You don’t have a least sexy outfit,” he flirted, a few steps closer.

You chewed and let your eyebrow quirk up. “Are you trying to have sex with me right now?”

“Well--I mean, I wouldn’t say no to a little afternoon delight.”

“Oh my god,” you laughed, hopping down from the counter. “I smell. I’m sweaty.”

“I don’t smell anything,” he laughed.

“You’re not close enough,” you warned, a sidestep towards the couch. “I only have ten minutes.”

“Yeah?”

“I’m eating cheez-itz,” you held the bag up and dangled it in front of his face.

“Save the rest for me for when we’re finished,” he smiled, another step towards you when you giggled and gave in. His lips were on yours and his left arm snaked around your waist, you tossed the snack aside and smiled against his mouth.

“I don’t think this door locks,” you told him.

“Extra risky,” he pulled his head back and looked over to the knob. “I like it.”

You shoved at his chest, pushed him down onto the couch and straddled his lap when he looked up at you with wide eyes.

“You have to be quiet,” you nodded.

“I am quiet,” he said, a look of mock-offense on his face.

You pressed another kiss to his mouth, a soft whimper from between his lips before you pulled away again.

“Really?” You laughed. “Because you’re already being too loud.”

“I can’t help it that I just want to fuck you,” he said with an innocent smirk, hands already creeping up to the elastic band of your sports bra.

You could feel him growing beneath you, you buckled your hips against his just to watch him squirm. You slapped his hand away from your bare skin, tugged your bra off yourself as he smiled at the sight of you.

He pushed his mouth against yours quickly, your fingers fumbled with the hem of his shirt as he leaned forward to provide better access as you pulled it over his head. Layer by layer you giggled as he tossed your clothes across the room, a look of ecstasy on his face when he pushed into you on the couch.

“This is definitely your kink,” you breathed out, a smile as he kissed your face. “Almost public sex.”

He laughed, rhythm as his hips knocked into yours. “It is not!”

“SNL, now here,” you reminded.

“You’re awfully chatty for someone who said this sex had to be quiet,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, felt the friction of your skin against his as he pumped into you and pressed another wet kiss to your mouth. “Not my fault that you feel so good.”

“Yeah?” He asked, voice low and breathy as he sped up.

“Yeah,” you smiled up at him.

“You feel even better,” he flirted, a kiss to your jawline when you let out a whimper of pleasure. “Does that feel good, baby?”

“Mhm,” you tugged him closer, let your legs tangle with his as you arched your back.

“Are you gonna cum for me?”

Too much adrenaline in your body for words, another whimper as you chased the high of orgasm, breathless and desperate for release when he moved harder and faster against you.

You giggled into his shoulder when he followed close behind, a moment of reprieve when he smiled down at you joked: “I think you have some more ass shaking to do out there.”

As if on cue, a knock on the door, Mia’s voice was muffled from the other side. “Luis is gonna come in here himself if you don’t get a move on!”

Jason’s eyes went wide. “Told you so.”

You stole a glance up at him, across the table as Mia dozed a few seats over. The cabin of the jet hummed when you looked back down at the book you were trying to focus on.

The air shifted in the room, a cool breeze through the doors before…

Another glance up at him. Computer on his lap, airpods in, apparently he was having no trouble focusing.

You sighed, looked down at your book. The air shifted in the room, a cool breeze through the doors before…

A third glance, this time his eyes flickered up and he pulled an airpod out, a smirk on his face when you offered a guilty look.

“Y’alright?”

“I’m nervous,” you whispered, lips curling up in a smile when his eyes went wide.

“You? Nervous?”

“Yeah,” you laughed a little, voice still quiet to avoid alerting Mia to the anxiety that was climbing up your throat. “Just a little.”

“For The Grammys?”

“Yes,” you rolled your eyes.

He tugged the other airpod out, shut his laptop and adjusted in his seat. “Why on earth are you nervous?”

A shrug, you shut your book and tossed it onto the empty seat beside you. “I don’t know. Last year was way different, way less of a spectacle.”

He nodded. “You also went solo last year--and the years before that.”

You smiled a little. Was it weird to bring him? Weird to walk the red carpet with him by your side as if your relationship wasn’t already a hot topic on talk shows or tabloids alike?

“I don’t have to come,” he echoed the same sentiment he’d been saying from the start.

You asked him one night over a glass of wine, sat on the couch when Mia sent an email about your penultimate dress fitting. Of course he could go, of course the internet would lose it’s shit but Kailyn offered reassuring words: it’s a big night, you deserve to have your person there.

So he found a suit and accommodations were made, but now the reality of the weekend was setting in as you sat--30,000 feet--over the East Coast.

“I want you to be there,” you nodded. “I just want people to be nice to us.”

“Well,” he let his head tilt to the side. “We don’t have a lot of control over that. And I, personally, think the focus of the night should be celebrating you.”

You let your head rock back and forth, hoping that if you pretended to believe him, you’d start to feel it in your bones.

It wasn’t your first Grammys, wasn’t your first time being nominated in the Big Four either. In 2011 you took home Best New Artist, in 2013 you won Album of the Year for the first time. It happened again in 2017, and there were a few smaller awards in between.

Which is exactly what Justine reminded you when you sat in her chair on Sunday afternoon. A bathrobe, under-eye patches, an extra large coffee, and--on top of that--a knot in your stomach.

“You’ve won eight Grammys before,” she commented, “but you’re shaking like a leaf and I need you to hold still.”

“I can’t,” you laughed a little.

“Then I’m taking this away from you,” she snatched the coffee, placed it on the bathroom counter out of reach. You let your shoulders sink in disappointment, her voice much quieter when she asked: “Wanna talk about it?”

You cleared your throat. Mia was running around like crazy, Cara was somewhere out in the living room of your suite. Jason was doing this thing where he came in every ten or fifteen minutes, asked if you needed anything, then went back to pacing the suite or distracting himself with his phone.

“I just want it to go smoothly.”

“The awards or bringing a date?”

You laughed a little, she rubbed moisturizer on your forehead and smiled. “Both,” you admitted. “But the latter in particular.”

“Fuck anyone who hasn’t gotten on board with it yet,” she said simply, eyes scanning over your face absentmindedly when she reached for another bottle of something.

“No, I know,” you agreed, a quick exhale and a nod. “You’re right. It’s not like I’ve never dealt with this type of shit before on a big night and—“

She pulled away from you, brush in hand when her eyebrows knit together. “You are so anxious you’re talking yourself out of it.”

“What do you mean?”

She shook her head, opened the primer she held and dabbed some on a pallet. “That’s, like, stage four anxiety for you.”

“What is?” Mia popped into the bathroom, phone in hand as she hung your dress up on the back of the door.

“Nothing,” you made a face at her. No. No way did Mia need to get all keyed up because you were all keyed up.

“She’s freaking out.”

You shot Justine a look. Thanks for nothing.

“No I’m not.”

Mia’s eyebrows lifted and she eyed you for a second. She glanced over to the coffee that had already been confiscated, then put a hand on her hip in suspicion.

“I’ll be fine.”

“Do you need something?”

“No,” you shook your head quickly, embarrassment washing over when Justine kept brushing your cheeks. A moment of silence.

“You seem like you do.”

“I’m alright,” you tried to sell it, a smile in her direction.

She let out a sigh, one that said she wouldn’t fight you on it before she looked back to her phone. “Well, it’s almost five, have you eaten anything since lunch?”

“No.”

“You should have a snack.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Justine tucked her chin towards her chest. You? Not wanting a snack? Something was up.

Mia gave you another look: you’re being ridiculous and we both know it. After a deep breath, you looked up at her: “Can you bring Jason in here and can we have a minute?”

Justine dropped her stuff on the counter and smiled over her shoulder. “Not to rush you, but I’ll give you 10 minutes.”

Mia smiled and followed her back to the living room of your suite, she reappeared with a hand on Jason’s shoulder after roughly thirty seconds, barely enough time for you to slow your heartbeat.

“Hi,” he greeted, a concerned smile when Mia shut the door behind him. He hadn’t started getting ready yet, still in a sweatshirt when he scanned your face.

“Hi,” you offered a smile.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you shifted in the makeup chair. “I just wanted to talk to you about something.”

He came closer, leaned against the counter and crossed his arms over his chest. “What’s up, baby?”

“So,” you exhaled. “Sometimes, before events like this, I get kind of freaked out.”

He nodded.

“And sometimes, when that happens, I take something to help with anxiety.”

A smile, “okay. What do you take?”

“A beta blocker—propranolol, I think.”

He nodded again. “You should take it today.”

“Yeah, Mia and Justine seem to think so.”

“I trust Mia and Justine,” he laughed.

“You don’t think it’s fucked up?”

“That you need something to take the edge off before the biggest night in the music industry? No.”

You smiled a little, looked down at the fresh coat of nail polish that had been swiped on this morning.

“Taking it will help you feel better. You should do whatever is gonna help you feel better.”

“Okay, alright,” you relented.

“Why are you against it?”

“Cause I wish I didn’t need medication to handle my anxiety.”

He shrugged, leaned forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “There’s nothing wrong with that.”

A knock on the door. Justine poked her head through. “I lied, I’m back, I heard laughter so I figured we were all good.”

Mia came in behind her, orange bottle in hand before she shook it and smiled.

“Let’s take some drugs!” Jason teased.

You rolled your eyes, popped one and swallowed after Justine finally gave you your coffee back. Mia held out her open hand, taking it again before she smiled.

“I don’t know about you,” she smiled, “but I feel better already.”

You stepped up onto the red carpet riser, Jason’s hand steadied you but he stayed behind. Laverne extended her arms, it’s so good to see you! before the man behind the camera gave her a signal, you smiled when the light above the lens lit up.

“Alright, look who I have here with me--you know the party has started when Y/N L/N arrives on the red carpet! Y/N how are you feeling tonight?”

“I’m pumped!” You laughed. “This is the hardest part, the carpet, honestly!”

“It is,” she nodded, “you’re right. But at least you have a very handsome date with you tonight! Jason Sudeikis, I see him back there, are you hiding him?”

“I’m not,” you laughed, looking at him over your shoulder. “I’m not hiding him, he’s hanging back though, look at him.”

“Jason get up here,” Laverne smiled. “Come say hi to the people at home!”

He laughed, stepped up beside you but was careful to avoid the train of your dress.

He gave her a hug, “it’s so lovely to see you!”

“It’s lovely to see you!” She beamed, “and this is your first event as a couple, congratulations! We are so excited to see both of you, we love you so much!”

“Oh, thank you,” Jason nodded, an arm snaking around your waist. “I’m not cool enough to come to stuff like this,” he leaned in when Laverne held the mic up to him. “This is my first Grammys, so I’m living it up!”

“Your first?” She asked.

“My first!”

“And it’s your millionth!” Laverne smiled at you. “You’re a regular here.”

“Which is amazing in and of itself, I’m just happy to get to celebrate a lot of talented and wonderful people.”

“And we are dying to know, what are your after party plans tonight?”

“What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas,” you laughed. “Which means we might end up asleep before midnight, truthfully.”

“No Vegas chapel wedding? No wild night?”

“You never know,” Jason shrugged, your eyes going a bit wide at the remark.

“You never know,” you agreed. “Anything can happen!”

“Well thank you so much for saying hi to us! Y/N, break a leg tonight, I’m sure we’ll see you holding some awards on your way out. Have so much fun tonight, guys!”

You hugged her again, stepped back down to the carpet to find Mia and Kailyn with smiles on their faces.

“She made a marriage joke,” you whispered to Kailyn, who’s eyebrows shot up at your words. “Implying we could get married in a chapel here.”

“A la Sophie and Joe,” she nodded. “Interesting.”

“Are you talking about the chapel joke?” Jason leaned in and smiled.

Kailyn looked up at him. “Let’s keep it tame tonight, okay, guys?”

“Hey, I would do it if she would--”

“No you wouldn’t,” you laughed, an eye roll as Mia tugged you further along the carpet.

Photos and friends as you made your way towards the theater, you introduced Jason to music industry execs that wished you luck on your nominations. You were seated at a table in the front and after glasses of champagne were delivered, Mia and Kailyn briefed you, found their seats out of camera view, and bid farewell.

Maybe it was the fact that he was sitting beside you, simultaneously calming your nerves and sparking anxiety in your chest. You nursed the champagne in front of you, laughed when he leaned over and whispered jokes in your ear.

The first time your name was called you sprung up with excitement, Camila Cabello pulled you into a hug before you climbed the stairs to the stage, Best Pop Vocal Album. You thanked the producers, the engineers, the people who answered your anxious calls in the middle of the night as you finished it in London last spring.

Ushered backstage by headsets and clipboards, you returned to your seat and he hugged you, a proud smile on his face when Mia bent in front of your seat, 90 seconds until the commercial break was over.

“Do you need another drink?”

“I’m good,” you told her, waving at a familiar face a few tables over.

“Bathroom? Might be a good time--”

“I could use the bathroom,” Jason leaned forward and told her, a guilty look on his face. Mia laughed and led the two of you out of the event space, hallways and signs on the walls pointing people in the right direction, stage, performer dressing rooms, bar, red carpet.

Walkie-talkies beeped when he took your hand in his, following behind Mia as you wove through crew and photographers and fancy dresses. Once you re-emerged from the bathroom he was waiting a few steps over.

“Where’s Mia?”

“She went to find someone to take us back--she had to find Kailyn.”

“Okay,” you nodded, a quick glance around the busy hallway.

“Hey,” he said, pulling your attention back. “I’m proud of you--that was so fucking cool.”

“Thanks,” you smiled up at him. “It’s always a blur.”

“I know--you kind of black out in those moments.”

“I always get so anxious giving speeches,” you admitted.

“You sounded like a pro,” he reassured. “Almost like it was your eighth time doing it or something.”

“Seventh,” you corrected. “If I win anything else it will be eight.”

“My apologies,” he teased.

“I won’t win anymore though,” you shook your head.

He smiled a little. “Sounds like anxiety talking.”

You didn’t reply, once again got distracted by the bustling of people all around.

“Hey,” he reached for your arm. “If you need something, you know, to take the edge off--”

Your eyes went wide and you stifled a laugh when he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Did you bring a joint?”

“No,” he looked at you like you were crazy, pulling something out from his interior breast pocket. “It’s a weed pen, I’m not classless, Y/N.”

You rolled your eyes and watched as he brought it to his lips, a smile as he inhaled and then held his breath for a few moments. Too busy in the hallway for anyone to notice.

“I don’t think I’m going to win Album of the Year,” you shook your head. “I think I’m done for the night.”

He narrowed his eyes at you, let out his inhale and coughed. “You just want to smoke weed.”

“I also mean it--I don’t think I’m going to win. Have you seen the nominations?”

He nodded, “you’re going to win it.”

“No I’m not,” you reached for the pen.

His eyes got wide, watching as you brought it to your lips and did exactly what he’d just done. “If you go up on that stage high and accept an award I am going to lose it,” he stifled a laugh.

“Hey,” Kailyn hissed behind you. “What are you two doing back here?”

You had already taken an inhale, turned quickly to see her with a guilty look on your face when you exhaled quickly, but probably too late. You let out a cough, tried to avoid her eyes.

“Nothing,” Jason said quickly.

“Oh my god,” she looked at the pen in your hand. “Did you just do that?”

“Yes,” you admitted. “Because I’m not going to win Album of the Year.”

“You don’t know that, Y/N--are you serious? You’re gonna be stoned now? Jesus--”

“Hey, hey,” Jason held up his hands. “It’s fine, she’s fine. You’re fine, right?”

“I feel fine,” you nodded, another laugh threatened to escape when Kailyn gave you an evil look.

“Helps with anxiety,” Jason reasoned. “She needed it.”

“Look at me,” Kailyn grabbed your wrist. “Short and sweet, if you win, okay? Do not get wordy or talkative. Short and sweet.”

“Short and sweet,” you nodded obediently. “Got it.”

“Go get back out to your seats,” she rolled her eyes.

“Yes ma’am,” you saluted in jest. She pointed in the direction you needed to go, watching with wide eyes until you fell into step behind another woman with a headset. Jason followed, leaned down to whisper in your ear: as if we’re the only ones here on something.

He followed you back to your table in the front, smiled at you when an announcement came over the speakers, cameras rolling in five, four, three…

You pulled your chair closer to his, cheered for the presenters and winners and watched in awe of your colleagues as they performed songs you wished you wrote. It was easier now, just a bit, to relax and let go and sip from your champagne flute that was always full.

Another commercial break towards the end, you chatted with John Legend before the same warning announcement sounded. You hurried back to your seat only two tables over, Jason pressed a kiss to your cheek when you sat.

“This is about to be the best moment of my life,” he watched you, a smug look on his face.

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to win this and you’re going to go up there stoned--”

“I’m not going to win,” you laughed, shook your head. The music filled the room, cameras buzzed overhead and Dolly Parton stood in the center of the stage with the final envelope of the night in her hands.

“The end of the night is always so fun,” she said into the microphone, the crowd applauded her presence but nervous silence fell over the room. “Especially here in Vegas, where the end of the night is really just the beginning!”

You laughed, reached for your champagne and took another gulp. You weren’t going to win. No way.

“And I’m lucky enough to be here tonight and to announce the winner for Album of the Year, here are the wonderful nominees.”

Footage rolled on the big screens: snippets of songs and clips of video and then, finally, yours. The montage made your heartbeat climb, Jason stole a glance at you from the corner of his eye and you did what you had been trained to do for years. Smile graciously and watch with intent as she opened the envelope with her perfectly painted nails.

“Oh this part always makes me so excited,” she squealed, ripping it open and looking down. “The winner is….Y/N L/N!”

Jason was on his feet before you were, a look of shock that you tried to hide, a smile when he wrapped his arms around you and kissed you on the mouth with force.

“Holy shit!” He said, “go get up there!”

You headed for the stage, a hug to Lady Gaga when you passed her table and a hug for Dolly when you tried to slow your pulse. A woman in a black dress handed you a golden trophy, you walked up to the microphone and looked out at the crowd.

“Oh my god,” you laughed, “I really thought I was done for the night after the last one.”

The audience cheered and laughed, you swallowed the nerves and remembered what Kailyn had said: short and sweet.

“Thank you so much to the Academy, this is always such a special one to win. Thank you to my team, everyone at my label, to Max and Laura who produced this album with me, to Chris, my manager, to Kailyn and Mia, my parents and my brothers--who would kill me if I didn’t thank them. Thank you to the nominees, who make such amazing music that I seriously did not think I’d be up here right now, to my boyfriend, to my friends, yeah--wow--thank you so much!”

You were ushered off camera as the music played, a whirlwind of excitement and stimulation as you stepped over wires and under platforms backstage. Mia and Kailyn magically appeared, smiles on their faces when a woman in a headset congratulated you but tugged your elbow to lead you out of the way.

“I heard you’re stoned,” Mia laughed, a glance up at you as she followed behind.

“My speech was fine, right?!” You looked at her and then Kailyn, who smiled despite still offering a disapproving glare.

“That man’s a bad influence on you,” she giggled, snaking an arm around your waist.

He was waiting in a green room with champagne, production crew and other members of your team buzzed around as a few friends stopped by to squeeze you in celebration. Tugged in different directions, the notorious red carpet poses after the show ended, trophies in hand as you grinned.

An afterparty with more liquor before you finally ended up in the backseat of an SUV. “I’m proud of you,” he said, a hand on your thigh when Mia scrolled on her phone in the row ahead of you.

“I can’t believe I accepted a Grammy high,” you shook your head.

“I told you he was a bad influence,” Kailyn turned around and offered a smile.

“I am not!” Jason defended. “She took the pen right out of my hand!”

Mia rolled her eyes. “Well, we had a wild night, so, let’s just be glad it ended on a good note.”

“Does this mean no chapel wedding?” Jason looked over to you with a smirk.

“Hmm,” you went along with it for a second, he winked and egged you on, presumably to see what type of reaction the two of you would get.

“You would seriously go get married right now?” Mia turned around and looked at both of you with wide eyes. “No family? No friends?”

“No ring,” you held up your hand and waved it in Jason’s face.

“I wouldn’t put it past them at this point,” Kailyn laughed.

“We can rain check tonight,” Jason rolled his eyes. “Give me some time to get all my ducks in a row.”

“Deal,” you smiled over at him. “Rain check.”

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blossom-hwa · 3 years ago

Text

so I joined an ateez collab yesterday and was yelling to mai about a possible elemental kingdom au kind of like avatar but also not really anyway it doesn’t fucking matter mai was yelling back and now we have this. you have been warned

(I have bigger plans for seonghwa mostly because he’s the one I'm writing for this collab.............. seonghwa brainrot commence)

tagging: @applejongho @mangomingki @wingkkun because all of you need to see this SUFFER

anyway without further ado

ATEEZ ELEMENTAL KINGDOM AU OR WHATEVER IDK WHAT TO CALL THIS

tw: cursing

seonghwa

magma prince, born of an earth/water dalliance gone too far :/

lives in the water but is an outcast, so he’s forced to live on his own by the underwater volcanoes except when he has to come to the palace for ceremonies and such

doesn’t really manipulate water specifically but can control magma hence why I'm calling him a magma prince

he’s a prince because his mom was ocean royalty, anyway she disowned him so we don’t really care about her (fuck everyone who made seonghwa feel like an outcast :/)

has scales on parts of his body like the rest of the ocean dwellers because they descended from sea serpents, his range from black to deep royal blue which INFURIATES the court because those colors are the purest meant for ROYALTY like even his mom’s scales aren’t as deep/pure as seonghwa’s so ha in your FACE

except seonghwa isn’t a fan of the scales because it just makes him feel even more like he doesn’t belong in his own skin :///

friends with fire prince hongjoong and ocean prince san, both of whom are some of the few who treat seonghwa like an actual person and not just an outcast :/

takes very good care of the animals who live around the volcanic vents! a lot of the other ocean dwellers are scared of them because they look so different but seonghwa knows what it’s like to be an outcast so he keeps his little area as clean and welcoming as possible :)

it gets lonely around the volcanoes but honestly seonghwa prefers that over when he has to be at court for ceremonies n stuff. like yeah there might be water snakes around his place but they’re nothing compared to the snakes in the palace badum tss

hongjoong

fire prince of the dragon clan

there are two clans of the fire kingdom, one descended from dragons and the other descended from phoenixes, and they’re Rivals

dragon clan is allied with the ocean dwellers since sea serpents are related to dragons, phoenix clan is allied with the air dwellers because they all can fly n stuff

but anyway more on phoenix stuff in mingi’s part

has scales too, though his are more on the neck while seonghwa’s around around his ribs/waist, also they’re bright red/orange not blue

can produce and control dragon fire, which is destructive and primarily used for offense, so hongjoong’s been trained for an early age how to use it for max power/destruction

meets seonghwa on one of the few times hwa comes to the surface to chill in the sun and he’d just accidentally set fire to a small part of the beach and when he sees hwa he’s like HELP ME PUT THIS OUT

except hwa can’t control water he can only do magma so. yeah

san was nearby though and helped deal with it and later joong was like what the fuck kind of ocean dweller can’t control water and seonghwa was like. I'm half you dickwad

obviously they become friends after that. if they didn’t I'd give you permission to slap my face

but also after that hongjoong learns to keep a much tighter rein on his powers, like yes he’s being trained for destruction but he has masterful control over his abilities

could be considered a fire prodigy in all honesty

yunho

earth boy!! very powerful earth bender

can definitely do a lot of destruction with his powers but prefers to help things grow instead! talks to his garden and swears up and down that his plants grow bigger and taller when he does

good friends with both mingi of the phoenix clan and hongjoong of the dragon clan

earth dwellers aren’t allied with any side of the fire rivalry so they serve as the arbiters/judges when disputes come into place which is fair because earth is solid and stable and just (most of the time)

which is why yunho is able to balance this sort of friendship between the two boys :) does NOT meet with them together though that would be a recipe for disaster (not necessarily because of hongjoong/mingi themselves, they know how to behave, but the neurotic clan elders would throw a hissy fit)

runs a small restaurant in the capital that mostly caters to the working class, people always ask why yunho doesn’t try to do “more” with himself, that he’s wasted potential running a restaurant when he could potentially be a general or something in the army because of his earth bending prowess

but yunho doesn’t care, he’s happy where he is and he develops his bending as a way to protect and help himself and others, and from his friendship with hongjoong/mingi he’s pretty sure he wants to avoid clashing with earth royalty at all costs ksjndksjh

yeosang

air prince :) also he’s blond in this au you can’t change my mind

not particularly one of the strongest benders, but he’s very intelligent and wise which people value a little less than they should but yeosang doesn’t really care, he’s just going with it

imagine! yeosang in flows white robes!! floating on the wind!!!

yes air dwellers can fly sobs because they control the wind

and while yeosang isn’t necessarily the greatest at using his powers for fighting or whatever, he’s very good at flying and has a lot of fun with it along with air noble wooyoung

best friends with wooyoung by the way, no one really gets it because yeosang is quieter and doesn’t yell as much while wooyoung is the definition of Chaos

but wooyoung brings out the rowdy side in yeosang and their screams/yells echo in the air when they get together

a little wary of wooyoung’s friendship with san mostly because he’s a prince and understands the consequences of wooyoung, an air noble, being friends with the allies of their supposed enemy (water is allied with the dragon clan)

(maybe he’s a little jealous too)

but in the end it’s always still woo + yeosang against the world, floating in the sky and doing what they can for their people <3

san

WATER PRINCE WATER PRINCE WATER PRINCE

he’s actually the reason I birthed this au I couldn’t get ocean prince san out of my mind

flowy clothes and a crown of shells and pearls! likes shiny things and will trade with earth dweller merchants for new bits of crystal and jewelry!! tell me he isn’t a dream!!!

one of the beloved princes of the ocean, honestly probably the most loved because he’s so smiley and handsome and all around a very good boy until it’s his turn to perform the ceremonial dances and he turns into a demon

the brightest blue scales run up from his waist to his ribs, another one of the purest colors of royalty

uses his status to get away with being friends with seonghwa (aka people won’t yell at him if it’s obvious he disappeared for a while to the volcanic vents) but keeps their friendship kind of under wraps because hwa is afraid of retaliation when he has to visit the court :/

truly does not give a shit about hwa being half earth, if anything kind of envies it because he’s always curious to explore the volcanic trenches but as a normal ocean dweller the heat would be too much for him if he stayed too long

kinda scared of the animals near the trenches but he warms up to them after some periodic visits

friends with air noble wooyoung! even though it’s kind of (?) breaking alliances but neither of them really cares because they’re so much fun together :D

mingi

phoenix nobility, not quite a prince but close

phoenix fire has defensive and healing properties, so it can’t actually burn people but it can heal and protect from dragon fire/regular fire!

mingi is well-versed in the art of healing even though he’s a little clumsy sometimes :/ luckily phoenix fire doesn’t burn or there’d be major issues skjnsdkjh

can fly! phoenix descendants have a limited ability to fly, not as much as the air dwellers who can literally control the wind to help them, but it’s often enough to get them out of tight spots

only problem is mingi doesn’t like to fly very much skjndgjhn heights kinda suck

but when he does it’s fucking majestic, these orange flaming wings extending from his arms that clash beautifully with his red/orange hair

imagine seeing it at sunset oh my god that’s a dream

the phoenix and dragon clans are in negotiation with each other most of the time because ~hostilities~ but mingi doesn’t often participate in the direct talking because he’s better at working behind the scenes

ridiculously smart and likes to debate with yunho over things because seeing issues from a neutral perspective is very helpful and something mingi doesn’t think people do enough

what he’d really love to do is talk to hongjoong because an opposite perspective would be even better, but people don’t like that happening :/

secretly admires dragon fire because it’s so cool how dragon descendants can control so much destructive power with such ease

(he doesn’t know it but hongjoong admires phoenix fire just as much because god damn sometimes he wishes he was born to heal rather than destroy)

wooyoung

air noble!!!!! bitch if you thought I was making this man ANYTHING but an air dweller you do not know me

likes to watch the sunrise from his vantage point in the mountains :) sometimes wakes yeosang up to watch with him but only when he’s certain yeo won’t cut off a limb if he does skndjsgh

if yeosang is like the soft sea breeze against your face in the summer, wooyoung is the biting, almost playful nip of wind against your nose and cheeks in the winter

very playful! loves to make collect friends!!

can play the flute and absolutely 100% uses it to annoy said friends

you can often hear his screeching laughter and the yells of yeosang + others bouncing off the mountains skjdnsgk

is always on duty for patrolling the mountains because he’s one of the best at flying, but it’s fine because wooyoung enjoys being able to make his rounds and talk to people along the way

sometimes gets a little sidetracked with talking (and maybe eating the food people sometimes give him) but wooyoung is a lovable person no one can get mad at him for too long (which is a problem because he knows it)

thinks the rivalries between elements is dumb af, is literally friends with ocean prince san and earth dwellers 2ho and would like to make friends with mingi (yunho has mentioned him before) if he could just stop being in twenty places all at once

(mingi’s a busy guy wooyoung give him a break)

almost lost his shit when san told him he knew a magma controller, but hasn’t met seonghwa yet because hwa is shy and not very open to strangers

anyway I just think wooyoung air noble who has a personal mission to make as many inter-elemental friends as possible. shrugs

jongho

IF YOU TRY AND TELL ME THIS BOY ISN’T EARTH I WILL CLOCK YOU

earth boy and a prodigy at that! his bending is more advanced than some people twice his age

originally got stuck in training for the army because his bending was just that good, however he really hated having to use his powers solely for fighting so he left and became a blacksmith instead

why a blacksmith? here’s a secret

jongho can metalbend

which is why he sort of has this very good touch with metals and which types to use with which sorts of crafts

in very high demand for weapons like swords and such, but also makes jewelry and toys and pots and pans for regular day to day life

he also gets the “wasted potential” thing that yunho deals with a lot, but jongho has thick skin and those sorts of comments roll of his (broad) shoulders very quickly

LOATHES IT when generals and officials come to him with commissions and expect them to be done first and foremost like jongho doesn’t have around ten other projects hanging out in the background, but he just has to receive them with a smile

(maybe leaves a tiny unnoticeable dent in a general’s sword or something bc even if it’s unnoticeable, jongho knows it’s there and there’s some satisfaction in that)

friends with air noble wooyoung mostly because he is able to deal with woo’s bs, air prince yeosang is always asking for tips

meets yunho through wooyoung and 2ho strike up a nice friendship!

really just jongho stronk boy who can move the earth and will not hesitate to cause a subtle earthquake if some official gets uppity with him <3

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sevlgi · 4 years ago

Text

bubblegum pop

requested: no

group: twice

pairing: sana x fem!reader

genre: fluff

contents: rich girl!sana, college!au, cashier!reader.

warnings: none

synopsis: An unfortunately hostile encounter with the school’s sweetest rich girl might just lead to more than you ever expected.

a/n: inspired by @pearicot‘s mean girl rosie series! (by the way, i’m not trying to feed into the “dumb sana” stereotype with this; i just thought that her personality fitted the character i was trying to achieve! does anyone wanna request continuations or scenarios in this universe 👀

word count: 3.3k

Something about Mondays the week of finals always got you in a bad mood, especially when you had to work double shifts at the same stupid ice cream shop you’d worked at for the past 2 years of college.

So maybe, just maybe, there was reasoning behind you snapping at the love of your life during your first meeting.

Actually, there really, really wasn’t.

There were plenty of mean girls on campus who you wouldn’t regret yelling at whatsoever, but you just happened to blow up at one of the considerably nicer rich girls.

Minatozaki Sana didn’t mean anything bad when she innocently held out a hundred dollar bill to pay for a $5 ice cream. She didn’t mean to seem pretentious, nor did she mean to mock you and your minimum-wage job, but you just so happened to take it that way.

“Really? You have to rub it in my face like that?”

Sana stared at you, the money that she held out wavering in the ear. “Sorry?”

Pinching the space between your eyebrows, you huffed out an exasperated breath. Luckily, there was no one else in the shop about to witness the stupidest meltdown of your life. “You think I don’t know that I’m poor? It’s five dollars for God’s sake, no need to bring out the big guns. Oh, or are you doing this to avoid seeming more pretentious with your daddy’s black card?”

The brunette’s hand retreated quickly, the heels of her Louboutins clacking softly against the pastel-toned linoleum of the ice cream shop. Fuck, you hated that linoleum. “I... I didn’t mean any of that, I swear! Um, is there an ATM near here?”

Once again, the girl meant well, and you took it badly. You scoffed, glaring disbelievingly at her. Some part of you was screaming out that you were putting your entire job at stake, and your morals as well, but you disregarded any common sense remaining in your brain. “An ATM for 5 bucks? Dude, just don’t.” Dipping your hand into the tip jar, you scrounged out a lousy crumpled bill and threw it down on the counter, shoving the bubblegum-flavored sweet to Sana. “Okay? Now get out, I don’t want to see your privileged ass anywhere near here.”

The dense gray clouding your mind somehow missed the hurt expression on the girl’s face as the staff door swung open. Wendy’s hands, though gentle on your shoulders, shoved you behind her with surprising force. “I am so sorry, Sana, it’s finals week. Surely you can understand? The ice cream’s on the house.”

“No, of course it’s okay!” Sana sounded genuine enough, that was for sure; you caught her glancing worriedly at you a couple times, nothing malicious whatsoever in her eyes. “I can pay though, are you sure?”

“I’m sure. See you in class,” Wendy called out, smiling all the while until the girl disappeared into the Lamborghini parked by the curb. As soon as that happened, she turned back to you, concern tugging at the corner of her lips. “Y/N...”

“Yeah, I know,” you mumbled as you crossed your arms. Already, you were regretting what you said, though you were far too stubborn to actually apologize on the spot. “No arguing with customers about capitalism. Sorry, Wendy.”

The girl bit her lip, scanning the store to make sure that there wasn’t about to be an influx of customers. Usually she enjoyed working with you; you just had absolutely terrible mood swings sometimes, and those days were nothing short of hellish for her to deal with. “Just head home. Focus on your finals, and come back next week. Okay?”

You hesitated to agree, knowing that you needed the money, but the grim expression on Wendy’s face told you that you had no other option. “Okay. Sorry.”

As you snatched up your stuff and shoved the door to the street open, you missed the sight of Sana watching you through the tinted windows of her 6-figure car.

“Really? Sana?”

“I know,” you groaned, biting down on the plastic spoon in your mouth. The flavor of the month (the only one you could eat completely free) lingered unpleasantly on your tongue, the taste of it oddly salty. “She was so nice about it, too.”

Jeongyeon and Mina exchanged glances, not touching their respective cups of “Ocean Caramel” either. It was extremely kind of them to come and accompany you on the slow days, both of them even offering to suffer through the gross ice cream with you. “If it was Park Roseanne I might understand, but Sana,” Mina winced. Jeongyeon nodded in agreement; after all, everyone on campus knew about the reputations of Roseanne and Sana.

On one end of the “rich girl” spectrum, Roseanne was quite possibly the bitchiest one of all. She and her Bugatti Veyron, the college upgrade from her old McLaren, absolutely weren’t to be messed with. People who went to high school with you often told story of the G Wagon she smashed, the locker room she lit on fire, and so many other horror tales of a spoiled girl gone wild. You were sure that had you gone off on her, even Wendy wouldn’t have stopped you.

But on the other end, Sana was notoriously kind. Sure, her family raked in an income close to that of the other girl’s, and her wardrobe was just as expensive, but she made a point to donate to charities every time she went shopping. She tipped in the hundreds, and she didn’t ever ask for her designer clothes back when she lent them to strangers. She paid any dinner bill in full when she was there, and sometimes even when she wasn’t invited.

No one was entirely sure about the relationship between the two, but Roseanne seemed to hate Sana more than she did other people. The two fought publicly occasionally, but Sana’s kind heart made it so that even Roseanne couldn’t carry a fight very long. She didn’t respond to insults, it seemed, nor did she ever seem to actually take them personally.

Stirring her half-melted soup, Mina continued, “Hopefully she doesn’t hold it against you. She doesn’t seem like the type, but...”

Jeongyeon shook her head, opening her mouth just as the doorbell rang. You froze when you looked up to find a designer-dressed bombshell, a sweet smile outlined in Chanel Rouge Allure. She looked completely out of place amidst tired college kids spending their last paycheck on ice cream, white gauzy sleeves and blue dress shimmering under LED lights. If you were being honest, you’d say that she was the most beautiful person you’d seen in your life, but you were always well versed in lying to yourself. “Y/N, you better go.”

“Why?” you whined, pouting at your much more responsible friends. They ignored your puppy face, though; Jihyo was usually the only one you could sway, Momo sometimes if she was feeling merciful. “I’m on break.”

“Only when there’s no customers,” Mina argued, shoving you to stand. Jeongyeon smiled at you, waving you away. “Go, and don’t screw it up this time.”

You forced a smile onto your face when you reached the counter, bowing and adjusting your name tag. “Hi, what can I help you with today?”

“Hi, Y/N!” Sana grinned, bowing back. The fact that she remembered your name only made your guilt worse; if she forgot who you were, you could at least pretend that she didn’t remember the incident at all. “Ah, could I have the same thing as last time? Bubblegum Pop ice cream, on a sugar cone today. 3 scoops?”

Nodding, you moved to open the case, avoiding the girl’s gaze as you did. “Of course.” She was quiet at that, staring at the ceiling so as not to rush you. Without prompting, you blurted, “I’m... I’m really sorry about last week, by the way. I don’t know what I was thinking, blowing up at you like that.”

“Oh, no, it’s okay!” she protested, waving a manicured hand in the air. “I promise I understand you. We all have our bad days.”

You wanted to apologize again, if just to assuage your guilt, but you held off on it, joking, “How do you deal with them? Yell at Gucci assistants?”

Sana looked honestly offended as she accepted the cone proffered to her, eyes widening in shock. “I’ve never done that, I swear! Besides, I don’t like Gucci much.”

A light smile quirking at the corners of your lips, you handed the receipt to her as well. She didn’t ask for it, probably not caring about the measly price or having the space for it in her tiny bag, but took it anyway. “I’m sure you don’t. Your total is $5.23, will that be cash or card?”

“Cash!” She held out a 10 dollar bill, pride shining behind that gorgeous face as you raised your eyebrows in surprise. When your hands brush together, you were reminded of how much better she was than you, how you probably weren’t worthy at all to be touching her with your shop-issued baseball cap and grimy apron. But Sana doesn’t seem to mind, still smiling that airy smile at you and not moving away. She broke your stare by offering, “I don’t want to sound rude, but keep the change.”

“Not rude at all,” you fully laughed that time, dishing out the remainder to stuff in your tip jar. You still felt terrible that she felt the need to apologize about such a normal comment, asking, “Are you sure it’s okay? You can have this one free too, if it makes up for me shouting at you...”

Sana shook her head, sugary light pink already mixing into her lipstick. She walked away, still waving with that gorgeous smile on her face. “It’s okay. I’ll see you soon, Y/N, you look really pretty today!”

Turning back to your friends, you whispered, “Damn. She’s really nice.”

You planned on spending your one day off from school and work cozied up with a good book and your favorite hot drink, but you supposed that getting into a fight with Park Roseanne wasn’t the worst way to go either.

As soon as you entered campus, book in hand and blasting music in your earbuds, you found a crowd of at least 3 dozen people right in front of the library building. It was unlike you to butt into others’ business, especially when it might lead to a ruined day, but Roseanne’s voice carried loud over the hushed whispers of everyone else. “--huh, Sana?”

It wasn’t any of your business, but for some reason, Roseanne’s tone when saying Sana’s name angered you immensely. Frowning, you shouldered your way through the crowd. The closer you got to the center, the more expensive the clothing that brushed against your own rough jean jacket was, cotton and leather becoming silk and velvet. You originally planned to just fit in with the other spectators, but with a shove at the small of your back, you were thrust into the center too.

To your shock, Sana’s eyes were red and shining with tears, the tip of her nose cherry-colored as well. Her head was almost bowed as she stared at her shoes, but she looked up to you when you almost bumped into her. You stuttered out, “H-hey. What’s going on?”

Instead of an explanation from the Japanese girl, though, your gaze was drawn to the blonde across the courtyard. “Didn’t you hear? Little Miss Perfect here got broken up with,” Roseanne scoffed, an infuriating smirk on her perfect face as she tilted her head at you. “By a future CEO, no less. I guess she isn’t a gold-digger, or maybe there’s some other reason that he didn’t want her anymore.”

Your hand shot out to protect Sana, a scowl making its way onto your own face. “Excuse me? From my standpoint, any future CEO is still way outta her league, so forgive me for doubting that he’s the one who didn’t want her. You’re the one dating someone who makes a tenth of what you do.”

Roseanne rolled her eyes, lips thinning. “Don’t talk about my girlfriend like that, Y/L/N, or you’ve got another thing coming. There aren’t many lesbians in this damn school.”

“You know me, don’t you?” Sana’s voice was wavering as she spoke, but it was strong enough to echo in the courtyard. To your surprise (and somewhat satisfaction), the blonde girl’s eyes widened as Sana stood forward, her lips jutting forward. “That’s why I’m not dating him anymore. I like girls, too.”

Somehow, you’d never expected that Sana was attracted to girls, but it made perfect sense. An irrational part of you wanted to cheer, but instead, you forced yourself to speak.

“R-right.” You continued to glare at Roseanne, who finally seemed to be speechless. “Yeah, so how come you’re tearing Sana down? We should be supporting each other, but you’re being so rude to someone so kind, and that says all I need to know about you.”

Reaching out, you latched onto Sana’s upper arm and pulled her out of the circle, people parting to let the two of you through as Roseanne wasn’t able to conjure up something to respond with. You didn’t stop walking until there was only silence surrounding you under the shade of a swaying tree, finally stopping to let the girl sit. “Are you okay?” you asked, brow furrowed as you knelt to be mostly face-level with her.

Somehow, there was a smile on her face; a slightly snotty smile, but nonetheless the most beautiful one you’d ever seen in your life. You ignored the uncomfortable leap of your heart when you reached out to take her hands into your own, somehow forgetting about the hostility you’d felt towards her from the beginning. “You- you stood up for me.”

“Yeah. I did, I guess,” you shrugged, smiling slightly. “I’m sure that was rough, though, to come out. How’re you feeling?”

“Honestly, much better,” Sana sighed. She leaned back, fingers curling slightly around yours as the afternoon sun shone golden brown in the locks of hair spread out on her shoulders. “It was good to get it off my chest. I didn’t even know you were into girls, you know.”

Reaching up to scratch your head, you chuckled, “Well, I am, if it makes you feel any better. What happened between the two of you, by the way? She seems to hate you so much.”

The girl laughed, as bubbly and airy as her regular voice. “I may or may not have dated her girlfriend before. But it was a long time ago, and I’m still friends with her! Roseanne just can’t forgive me.”

You feigned shock, swatting at her arm. “How terrible of you! I’m so disappointed.”

You were stuck simply smiling at each other for a good minute or so before you looked away, picking at your shoelace for something to do. “So. Uh, Roseanne knew the whole time?”

“She did,” Sana confirmed, nodding. “She just never talked about it.”

“Well, it’s good to know that she isn’t the only other one in the school with me,” you sighed, sitting back on your heels.

Sana lurched back forward, hands clasping together at her chest. “Then we should celebrate! We can go shopping or something, and we can just be happy that we aren’t alone anymore.”

It suddenly struck you how quickly you could change the girl’s entire outlook, a smile coming onto her face with no effort from you whatsoever. But even more surprising, you smiled even larger than she did just looking at her.

Laughing, you sat back on your heels and shook your head lightly. Seeming to take it as a rejection, Sana’s eyes widened. “Oh, only if you want to, of course! We can go wherever you want, we don’t even have to go shopping if you don’t want to!”

“No, we can go shopping,” you answered, reaching back over to squeeze her hand and pulling her up with you when you stood. “Come on, then. Let’s go celebrate.”

Sana wasn’t a great driver, but you didn’t expect much else. You were practically sick to your stomach by the time that you reached the mall, face green as you swayed out of the car.

“Ah, Y/N, I’m sorry!” Her hands rubbed lightly at your back as you squatted in the parking lot, fist held tight to your mouth. It wasn’t like you were actually going to throw up, but you didn’t want to risk ruining the girl’s expensive shoes. “I’ll let you drive next time.”

Next time? you wanted to ask. But you managed to stand, nodding quickly to ease Sana’s worry. “Yeah. It’s fine, I’m fine. Should we go?”

Immediately, she latched onto your hand, swinging between the two of you as she started to rush forward. “H-hey, lock your car first!”

Sana had unsurprisingly expensive tastes, but also surprisingly understated ones. She was fun to shop with, that was for sure- she loved to offer you clothes and also to offer to pay for them, but you didn’t necessarily hate a pretty girl telling you you’d look gorgeous in a certain sparkly dress.

She didn’t do any of the typical stuck-up things you expected her to- Sana carried her own bags, and she never forced you to follow her instead of doing what you wanted to. She did like to try on outfits and show them to you, but that could be ignored when it was just another opportunity for you to stare at her.

Eventually, you ended up having ice cream at one of the stores in the mall. You balked at the price, but Sana swiped her credit card without hesitation. “I have to admit, this bubblegum doesn’t taste as good as yours,” she pouted.

Chuckling, you savored the rich flavor on your own tongue. “You should’ve picked an expensive flavor then. Vanilla and chocolate are always good in these kinds of stores.”

“You know a lot about ‘these kinds of stores’ for someone who claims to be poor,” she teased, eyes widening as soon as the words slipped out of her mouth. “Oh, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean-”

“Nah, it’s fine,” you smiled, leaning on your palm. “I’m good with it, since we’re friends now.”

Sana grinned at that, her eyes curving charmingly. “We’re friends? Most people don’t want to be friends with me, I’m really glad you’re willing to.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

Looking down for once, the girl mumbled, “They say I’m dumb. You know that everyone says I’m nice, but they also think I’m dumb because I pay for everything. I just want to be kind, but no one takes me seriously.”

A wave of guilt rushed over you for previously feeding into the stereotype. The more time you spent with Sana, the more you realized that she was as brilliant as any other, and far more kind. “Well, that’s stupid. You are kind, Sana, and you’re amazing. I’m lucky to be your friend.”

She clasped your hand over the table, soft skin warm over yours, pink flushing in her pale cheeks. “Thank you, Y/N. You know, this is the best time I’ve had in a while. My boyfriend didn’t even listen to me this well,” she laughed.

Despite the fact that she treated it as a joke, you felt horrible. She was all too used to thinking the worst about herself and not believing that she was worth any better, and that was the worst possible thing you could imagine for a girl with a heart of gold. Jabbing your spoon into the remaining ice cream, you blurted, “Then go on a date with me. A proper one, not just a normal hangout like this.”

Sana instantly blushed, looking down as if it’d hide her face at all. But she missed the heat that rose to your cheeks too, the nervous biting of your lip as you waited for a response. “I would love nothing more,” she smiled, her eyes shining brilliantly. “And I can’t wait.”

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jaskierswolf · 4 years ago

Note

Would you be willing to write some competent Jaskier rescuing Geralt? Your nightingale fic inspired this, so maybe Geralt gets shrunk, or turned into a not-wolf animal? I love your writing!

I am soooo sorry. This totally took me 2 months to get to. (This is my nightingale fic for reference but this is not set in the same verse)

Geraskier - 974 words

Warnings: Umm? None? Geralt gets turned into a kitten. It’s pretty tame.

________

Jaskier wasn’t panicking. Why would he panic? There was no need to panic. Geralt had just gone to fight off some drowners; a contract he’d taken a dozen times since Jaskier had known him. Geralt could take down drowners in his sleep.

So why wasn’t he back yet?

The first night Jaskier had just assumed the drowner nest was further away than they’d been led to believe. The second night he’d stayed up until dawn when he’d passed out still seated at the table downstairs; still no Geralt. It was now the third night and Jaskier was… well he was maybe sort of panicking, but what could he do? He was just a bard.

He chewed his lip as he spotted his dagger lying on the dresser, sparkling in the light of the moon. He’d never used it, he could, but he didn’t. He’d been trained thoroughly as a young heir of Lettenhove, but he was a romantic, a musician, a poet… he didn’t want to fight.

But if Geralt was in danger then he couldn’t just sit here and mope. He had to help. He had to do something! He licked his lips as he swiped the dagger from the table, strapping the holster around his waist. He stormed out the inn under the cover of night, not caring about the odd looks he got from the innkeeper. He was off to find his witcher.

He wasn’t very good at tracking but he figured his best bet was to travel to the river, where the drowner nest had supposedly been. When he got there he cursed all the gods he knew. Geralt’s silver sword was lying on the ground along with his satchel of potions. There was no way Geralt would have left those behind willingly. There was no sign of his steel sword so Jaskier kept moving, praying that he was going in the right direction. He found Geralt’s steel sword in a herb garden outside a nearby cottage, the runes glowing in the dark.

He ran over to collect the second sword. His heart clenched in his chest. Something was very wrong, and he had no idea how to fix it. Gods, what was he going to do? It was usually Geralt saving him in these situations, not the other way round.

A small meow drew his attention. Jaskier looked down at his feet. A snowy white kitten was rubbing at his ankles, weaving between his legs. The kitten looked up at him was large yellow eyes and Jaskier had to cover his mouth to stop the manic giggle.

“Oh Geralt, what have you done?” He asked the little kitten, picking him up by the scruff of his neck, ignoring the hisses. Geralt tried to scratch at him but Jaskier cradled him in his arms, cooing at the cute little darling, until Geralt bit him. “Ow! Oi what was that for?”

Geralt meowed, flicking his tiny little tail angrily.

“Oh fine, be like that. Where’s your medallion? I have your swords and potions but I can’t see any clothes.”

Geralt nuzzled against his hand and meowed. Jaskier frowned and chewed on his lip. He was used to translating Geralt’s hums and grunts but this was new.

“Umm…right. Yeah, no, I am going to need more than that, my dear,” Jaskier sighed, scratching the back of his neck with his free hand. “Yes or no questions then, come on Jask. It’ll be like those games at Oxenfurt,” he stuck his tongue out as he concentrated, trying to get his thoughts in order long enough to fix this. “Did your medallion change with you?”

Geralt nodded.

“And clothes too?”

Geralt nodded again.

“Cursed?”

Geralt shook his head, glancing towards the little cottage.

Jaskier tucked Geralt into the front of his doublet. Geralt hissed but Jaskier just scratched the little kitten behind the ears until he managed to coax out a gentle purr. “There we go,” he breathed. “it’s easier to carry you like this. Stay put.”

Geralt half purred and half meowed but settled down, nuzzling against Jaskier’s chest. Jaskier smiled fondly down at his witcher before heading inside the cottage. Geralt hissed at him whenever he got further away from whatever had caused his predicament, or at least that was how Jaskier interpreted it, really he was just guessing. Eventually Jaskier’s fingers brushed over a dusty old velvet bag. Geralt meowed loudly and Jaskier picked the bag up, peering inside, but it was empty.

“What was in here? No shit, wait… was it a potion?” Geralt hissed, and kept hissing until Jaskier guessed some kind of magic dust. He frowned, kissing the kitten on the head without really realising. “Magic dust, really?”

Geralt meowed loudly.

“Soo….” Jaskier drawled “a trip to see Yennefer?”

Geralt nodded, wide yellow eyes blinking up at him. Jaskier booped Geralt’s tiny little kitten nose with a laugh, pulling away before Geralt could bite his finger. He gathered up Geralt’s belongings, the duel swords heavy on his back. Yennefer would love this, once she stopped being all haughty sorceress. She’d gotten far too used to the troubles Jaskier and Geralt found themselves in over the years. It had almost become routine. She’d roll her eyes, and ignore them for a few hours, muttering that she wasn’t at their beck and call, before helping them anyway just so she could tease them about it for the rest of the evening.

Jaskier chuckled, whilst he had his differences with Yennefer, he had to admit that she wasn’t all that bad. They were almost friends… almost. Geralt’s purring grew louder on his chest as they neared the inn. He glanced down at the bundle of white fur, squeaking as he noticed the witcher had fallen asleep. He almost wished Geralt could stay like this forever. He was just too cute!

________

Tag list (Geraskier - let me know if you want to be added/removed): @alwenarin @slythnerd @davidtennan-t @flippinfricks @innocentcinnamonpun @marvagon @elliestormfound @geraskier-trashh @panerato @moonysourenza @artistsfuneral @hailhailsatan @wherethewordsare @havenoffandoms @bitchy-witchy-post-mortem @geraltrogerericduhautebellegarde @geralt-of-riviass @00qtee @kittynannygaming @stinastar @scribblesonmapleleaves @thecomfortofoldstorries @fontegagrilledcheese @anythinggoesfandoms @veritasrose @trickstermoose67 @nonegenderleftpain @ohheytheremiss @kueble @love-more-today-than-yesterday @kozkaboi @llamasdumpsterfire @skai6

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #cat!geralt #competent!Jaskier #wolfie's witcher writing #Anonymous

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iamnotawomanimagod · 3 years ago

Text

If I Can’t Have Love, I Want Power - A Reluctant Ranking of Every Track

Disclaimer: This entire album is incredible, truly no skips, and I also think it’s an album that is hard to separate into individual tracks, because it all goes so well together. But I still wanted to try! This is just my personal opinion, and it’s subject to change. (Also I surprised myself. And I bet I’ll change my mind by tonight.)

Please feel free to do your own and tag me in it!! I wanna see!!

13. Girl is a Gun

It’s not that I dislike this song, it’s just a sound that I didn’t expect on this album. I think it would’ve fit in better on Manic. I don’t love how it kind of just repeats over and over again, especially on an album so full of complex, intricate lyrics. But it’s a really upbeat, sexy song and I bet it’s going to be so fun live.

Favorite lyric:

Time is a blessin', to me, it's a lesson And I can't be stressin' to give you attention 'Cause, oh, it's never enough, so I'm givin' you up And you'll be better with a nice girl, darlin'

12. Lilith

Similar to “Girl is a Gun,” I simply wasn’t expecting this kind of sound on this album - could’ve seen it on Hopeless Fountain Kingdom though! The bass is amazing and I love the rhythm.

Favorite lyric:

You know I get too caught up in a moment I can't call it love if I show it I just fuck things up, if you noticed Have you noticed? Tell me have you noticed?

11. Darling

This song is so sweet and charming, especially if you compare it to “More,” which I think it acts as a sort of sequel to. Something about the melody hits me just a little wrong. When they start singing, I can’t help but hear the verses of “Hopeless.” That might’ve been intentional, but I can’t get past it to hear this song as its own thing.

Favorite lyric:

Never knew the feeling of a stable home Been a couple years of living on the road Couldn't really tell you where they'd leave a stone To visit me when I am dead and gone

10. The Tradition

I love the haunting piano and vocals. It feels like a song that was written for the film specifically. (Was it even in the film, lol?) I really love the sound of it, but the lyrics don’t do very much for me.

Favorite lyric:

And I hope what's left will last all summer long And they said that, "Boys were boys", but they were wrong

9. The Lighthouse

This song reminds me the most of a Nine Inch Nails song - fitting that Trent Reznor provides backing vocals on the final verse. I love the grimy guitars, and and discordant beat, and the way it builds up. The melody is cool and liquid. The final verse really feels like waves crashing. It’s a well-written song that really shows off Halsey’s alternative side.

Favorite lyric:

Well, that should teach a man to mess with me He was never seen again And I'm still wandering the beach And I'm glad I met the devil 'Cause he showed me I was weak And a little piece of him is in a little piece of me

8. Ya’aburnee

This song makes me really emotional. It makes me think of all the people I love the most and it makes me want to cherish my time with them even more. That’s an incredible feeling for an artist to create. It’s such a bittersweet song. I wanna cry but it also makes me smile.

Favorite lyric:

But what's worse? Telling you my feelings or to die without revealing That you crawled inside my head and set a fire there, instead Letting all my insecurity Devour me with certainty

7. honey

If you’ve ever felt this way for someone, this song stings in the best way possible. I love the rhythm and the drums and the guitars - this is peak pop punk and Halsey fits right in. I love the honey imagery, especially that she included some imagery about bees and the way honey clings.

Favorite lyric:

And now she's impatient and I'm complacent With just a little taste of wasting time Looking for honey But she stings like she means it She's mean and she's mine

6. 1121

Now this is the sound I expected from this album. Cinematic, dark, dramatic. The piano is so haunting and so beautiful. It evokes so much imagery through sound alone, even with the lyrics being relatively simple. And their voice is so incredible. The song overall reminds me a lot of Evanescence, which is high praise. And I really appreciate the “self-loathing in love” theme, I can relate to it a lot. I’ve already been singing the chorus at the top of my lungs whenever I play this song.

Favorite lyric:

Take one in the temple My tongue is a vessel I try to be careful with The thing inside my chest You shoot for the memory So you can forget me I'd leave if you let me, oh

5. Bells in Santa Fe

Ever since we heard a snippet of this song in the first film trailer, I’ve been desperate to hear the rest of it. It didn’t disappoint. I love her lower register vocals, the tinkling piano and the frantic rhythm. And I relate too much to the message of the song - loving someone so much but refusing to accept that they want forever with you, insisting that they’re better off without you, warning them that you could slip away at any moment. It hits me where I live.

Favorite lyric:

Jesus needed a three day weekend To sort out all his bullshit, figure out the treason I've been searching for a fortified defense Four to five reasons But, Jesus, you've got better lips than Judas I could keep your bed warm, otherwise I'm useless I don't really mean it, 'cause who the fuck would choose this?

4. I am not a woman, I’m a god

This song fucks. Claiming their power to create life - recognizing that as godly and divine, while also insisting this is not a power that makes them a woman. I can’t wait for it to become a smash hit and for people to be singing about a nonbinary/trans experience without even knowing it. I honestly have trouble even articulating why this song is so awesome, it just is. I’m pumped every time I hear it.

Favorite lyric:

Oh, I just wanna feel something, tell me where to go 'Cause everybody knows something I don't wanna know So I'll stay right here cause I'm better all alone Yeah, I'm better all alone

3. You asked for this

I really like the 90s alternative sound of this one, it reminds me of Alanis Morrissette and certain No Doubt songs. I think it’s a very realistic depiction of how settling down in life can be very bittersweet, and the things that we ask for are sometimes not what they seem to be. But we also come to realize that settling is a part of growing up. Still, Halsey sings about wanting everything, knowing there are contradictions in that. The chorus is fun and easy to sing to, and the final verse is so amazing.

Favorite lyric:

I want a beautiful boy's despondent laughter I want to ruin all my plans I want a fist around my throat I want to cry so hard I choke I want everything I asked for

2. Whispers

This one hits hard, but god, it’s so good. The way they whisper certain phrases. The simple piano under the first verse, the way it becomes more complex, the way the beat comes in. You want to dance and cry at the same time. The lyrics - I know so many of us can relate to them. The themes of self-sabotage and self-loathing are so strong in this album, which definitely hits me right in the chest.

Favorite lyric:

I've got a monster inside me That eats personality types She is constantly changing her mind on the daily Think that she hates me I'm feeling it lately Might have to trick her and treat her To 70 capsules or fly to a castle So at least we could say that we died being traveled

1. Easier than Lying

I’ve had this one on repeat since the album came out, and that surprised me at first, but god, this song is addictive. The crunchy guitar at the beginning, the driving rhythm, the way her voice contrasts with that. The scream-singing on the chorus. It’s the kind of song you want to drive way too fast to. The bridge!! Aaah! It’s just so badass and listening to it now gets me too hyped!! Also the way it can kind of be seen as a sequel to “Lie,” - the growth of going “if you don’t love me no more, then lie” to “losing you is easier than lying to myself” is so meaningful and so empowering.

My heart is massive but it's empty A permanent part of me, that innocent artery Is gasping for some real attention Some undivided hypertension I tell it "quiet down, you're being loud" But it beats harder every time you come around But do you love the sound?

I’m gonna tag some mutuals, just to share, and also to see if anyone else wants to do this! Also you don’t need to go as in-depth as I did if that’s intimidating or too much, I’m just wordy.

@demonzplay @easiersthanlying @ttpane @yoursalwaysleo @anarkyandmadness @feelingsiwontforget @tolerateit @tommyhardyx @elysiems @imacreepygirl @finallybeautifulstranger @inthenameofloveforthesakeofpower and I know I’m forgetting some folks, I’m sorry! Please feel free to steal this and also tag me in yours!

#stephspeaks #halsey #iichliwp #if i can't have love i want power #suicide tw #for some of the lyrics

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hanniesdegree · 4 years ago

Text

Our Day to Day | KNJ

photo from baepsaaee

pairing: namjoon x poet! reader

prompt: slice of life; scenes of your day to day with namjoon, talking about anything and everything

genre: fluff

word count: 840

There was no answer when you knocked on the door, so you enter. He was slumped with laser-sharp eyes towards the audio software. You tap on his shoulder gently, then slowly move your hands towards his temples to massage his head.

"Hey," you begin softly, "you've been here a while. Can I get you anything?"

He lets out a deep sigh. You can tell how stress he is. "No, I'm good. But can you listen to this verse? I think something's missing, although I'm not sure what it is."

"I will, but only after you go with me outside." He was about to protest when you cut him off, "I know you have your deadlines, but I need you to see the sun once in a while, okay?"

He doesn't answer. You push further, "Come on, it's autumn."

He relents. A little quicker this time, you note. Maybe he knew deep inside that he could use some fresh air. "Where to?"

You were not sure where you wanted to go, you just wanted to walk with him. You exchanged a few words, opting to immerse yourself in the surroundings instead.

You found yourself at the neighbourhood park and were pleasantly greeted by a calming mix of greens, oranges, and yellows.

He stops walking for a moment. You look at him, waiting. He probably noticed something, you thought.

He hums in fascination, "leaves are falling."

II.

"Don't you think it's quite amazing how the moon, as unassuming as it is, gives people refuge?" You think out loud. "Like I'm thinking about it, right? It's just one moon, nothing too special. But countless people have seen it and thought of something. Maybe a memory or something poetic."

"I don't know," you're struggling to find words, "but isn't it just amazing how we just associate the moon with so much meaning?"

He nods as he sits beside you on the terrace. "Yes, but nature in general, too, right? Whether it's mountains, rivers, parks, or the changing of the seasons. We put meaning in these things."

"I wonder why, but I mean, I do them too--putting meaning into things. I guess it's both our jobs to overthink things." You laugh softly.

He engages further into the conversation. "I find it interesting, though. These seemingly trivial things, sure, they look the same to everyone, but they have been tagged with different meanings by all who've seen them. It's quite comforting to think about, actually. It just feels so inherently human."

III.

There is a fond smile that greets your face when you open the website.

"Namjoon-ah, you wouldn't believe this"

"Hmm, what's up?"

You show him your phone, "I found my angsty poetry blog from high school and it's so fascinating"

He sits up properly against the headboard. "Oh my god, let's read everything"

"Okay, so the latest one says:"

'Last week, I visited my old school. It was nice to revisit the place where I spent most of my life in. I don’t know if I’ve romanticized it by now, but everything feels so untainted to me. It existed before so much happened. I was still happy then.

I keep thinking about her. Who she was. What made her happy. If she would have been proud of me. If she would have recognized me. I feel so disconnected and so different from her. I think she wanted to be a doctor. She was good at science. She smiled a lot. The only thing that made her cry so much was her graduation day because leaving is painful. It still is.

I’m leaving again soon. I wonder if she would have wanted me to stay.'

"I actually like that, it's introspective" he comments.

"Yeah, I kind of remember where I was in life when I wrote this," you say. "It's nice to reminisce now, but that was a hard time."

He holds your hand, "Yeah, it must have been a lot," he softly brushes his fingers in comfort, "but I'm really thankful you got through it and you're here now."

"Yeah, I'm here now."

"Read more," he nudges as if to tease.

"Okay, there's actually a prompt for this one, which was 'where does your sorrow go when you find yourself completely alone?'" you explain, "I think it's a line from a song."

it goes to you

whoever you are

wherever you may be

like elias

who owes his sorrow

to his home

home is where the sorrow is

don't you think so?

and i just keep on

coming back

to you

and i just keep on

coming home

to you

"Home is where the sorrow is, huh?" he hums, "what does that make me, then?"

"Well, if we're going by my high school self, I guess you're my sorrow."

He gasps as if he was accused "Why would you say that? I'm sad now. I guess you're my sorrow, too."

"Well, you're my sorrow because I miss you all the time, but you're my happiness as well," you explain thoroughly, "you're my everything."

"You're my home."

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hellfire-munson · 4 years ago

Text

Looking Up Luke x Reader Pt 1

Pairings: Luke x Reader (Briefly at the end), Julie x BestFriend! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Brief mention of sad memories.

Word count: 2211

This is My first post so bare with me. I’ll get better at the edits and stuff as I learn my way around Tumblr. I also took inspiration from Paramore and the reader was strongly based on Hayley Williams in my mind but you can make her in your image. I don't own Paramore or their music. The song I took inspiration from is Looking Up.

“Jules, you and Flynn are coming tonight, right?” You ask while you and your best friend throw you school books in your locker after your last period. Julie looks over and smiles at you.

“Of course! The boys were wanting to tag along especially after I told them how you were in a band of your own. They wanted to know why you denied their offer after Luke heard you shred the guitar solo during that one rehearsal.” She says.

“If he thought I was shredding that guitar, just wait till they see what I really got going on. Right now all they know and all anyone knows and thinks is I play guitar for the band. Also Luke wanted me to join so he could see me everyday.” You smile.

“Wait, Jackie walked?!” She screamed excitedly.

“Yeah, after her and I got into this huge argument about the upcoming shows and letting me actually sing vocals for MY songs she walked away, and someone had to take her place. I wrote this new song we are going to play tonight, you’re going to love it.” You smile at her.

“Y/N this is amazing! Our mom’s would be so proud of us.” She smiles longingly.

“Maybe we could collaborate one day, I know you’re a bit more popish than what Paramore is but we could make something work!” You smile at her. She jumps up and down loving the idea of the whole thing.

“Yes! That would be amazing! Let's head home, we have to get ready for tonight. Oh how will we get in? I thought the venue sold out in minutes?” She asks turning to look at you as you two walk through the doors to your car. You pulled 5 vip lanyards out of your bag and handed them to her.

“I got you covered girl, don’t worry.” You smile unlocking the door. The drive back to your house was filled with you blasting all your bands old songs and singing along. You were lucky enough to live in the same neighborhood as Julie and the boys so you often carpooled to school but the boys had things to do after school before the show so they went their separate ways. Julie was trying to help you choose your clothes for tonight but with you two being so entirely polar opposite it was hard. If anyone was to help you it should have been Luke since you two share almost the same fashion sense with a hint of Reggie mixed in. You eventually settled for an old cut up Sunset Curve shirt you “borrowed” from Luke with a lace bra underneath and you paired that with your highwaisted, ripped black skinny jeans and your studded Doc Martens. What you decided to do with your hair and makeup will come to you once you hit the venue. You gathered your things to pack into the car while Julie made some final accessory details to your look. She handed you your chain to attach to your jeans along with an assortment of rings and bracelets. Everything was looking perfect for your first big performance as the lead singer.

“Okay, I gotta head to the venue for soundcheck. You, Flynn and the boys should be there around 6, the show starts at 7:00.” You smile, dropping her off at her house. You see the boys sitting in the garage waving at you. You smile and wave back before backing out of Molina's driveway and head towards The Orpheum.

Soundcheck went perfectly and it left a little time to grab a light snack before you had to get ready. You knew not to go to the street dogs stand after the incident with the boys that ended their lives 25 years ago before they met Julie and you and somehow were brought back by the two of you. Your drummer’s girlfriend decided to have catering come out with healthy choices which you were enjoying as we speak. Heading back to your dressing room the security guard stopped you saying there was a group of people here to see the band.

“Oh that’s my friends from school, you can let them on back. Thanks Alan!” You smile popping a strawberry in your mouth.

“You didn’t tell me you were playing the Orpheum!” You hear Flynn yell causing you to turn around with a piece of cantaloupe hanging out of your mouth.

“Well you didn’t ask.” You say chewing the part that was in your mouth.

“Okay smartass. Also when did you change your hair color?” She asks pointing to your now orange hair. You smile slyly at her.

“I did last night, but I wore it up in a hat today so people didn’t see it until now.” You say getting up to hug your friends. The boys are just standing at the door staring at you.

“I don’t bite, you can come in.” You joke ushering them in.

“You’re playing the Orpheum tonight Y/N how does it feel to make it big?” Alex asks.

“I’m not sure yet, maybe I’ll know after the show. Which speaking of that when you guys head down to the floor just find Alan and he’ll take you to the spot that’s reserved for you guys.” You smile at them.

“Your hair is so bright.” Is all Reggie can say making everyone burst out laughing.

“I can’t wait to see you shred the stage tonight. That day at rehearsal when you and Julie were goofing off… Holy shit, that was sick!” Luke says jumping up and down.

“It runs in the family to be honest. Our moms were in a band when they were our age and my dad is a world known rockstar so I learned at a young age.” You smile winking at Julie.

“Well we should start heading down so you can get ready. We are going to dinner after this to celebrate just so you know.” Julie says smiling at you. Once they left you started getting ready to meet up with your band to do your before show ritual handshake.

“All right guys, this is the Orpheum. The place is packed with execs. This will be our big break. Let’s rock it!” Andrew says putting his hand in the middle as the rest of you follow. The opening band finishes their set signaling your time to go. The band runs out causing the crowd to erupt in screams of your name. You stay back to surprise everyone as they begin playing your new song.

“Los Angeles! Are you ready!” You scream from backstage as the beat picks up.

Things are looking up, oh finally!

I thought I'd never see the day

When you smile at me.

We always pull through, oh when we try,

I'm always wrong but you're never right.

Oh you're never right!

You run out causing everyone to scream as you work the stage to the music. Luke, Flynn and the boys look up in awe hearing your voice for the first time. The way you rocked out was breathtaking to Luke.

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

And it's not a dream anymore!

No. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

You interacted with the audience as you sang the lyrics. You shot a wink over at Luke when you noticed his jaw nearly dropped to the floor. Julie looked over at him and knew right then and there he has fallen in love with you even more than he already was. She smiled at her bandmate. She saw the smile break across his face as he began banging his head to the beat.

Could have given up so easily

I was a few cheap shots away from the end of me

Taken for granted, almost everything that I would have died for

Just yesterday,

Just yesterday

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

It's not a dream anymore!

Oh. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

You interacted with your bandmates as they played their instruments, dancing around the stage as you had the time of your life. Jumping and head banging with your guitarist.

God knows the world doesn't need another band, (whoa, whoa!)

But what a waste it would've been! (whoa, whoa!)

I can't believe we almost hung it up (whoa, whoa!)

We're just getting started (whoa, whoa!)

Honestly, can you believe

We crossed the world while it's asleep?

I'd never trade it in, 'cause I've always wanted this!

It's not a dream anymore!

Oh. It's not a dream anymore!

It's worth fighting for.

You stood there smiling, taking a breath letting the crowd think you were done before you jumped off the drum stage singing the final line of the song.

I can't believe we almost hung it up!(whoa whoa)

We're just getting started! (whoa whoa)

Whoa! Whoa! Whoa!

You dropped to your knees as you held the final verse as the lights went out sending the crowd into a fit of cheers and screams. You smile to yourself as you hold the microphone in your lap. The lights come back on letting you see the crowd still cheering you on. The surreal feeling you had was causing your heart to sing and you were pretty sure you saw a sign off in the distance of the audience that let you know your mother was proud of you. Composing yourself, you finished the night with 6 more songs.

“Thank you guys for coming out to support a small band from this sleepless city. We are Paramore! Good night!” You said before running off backstage. You are met with your friends and a very starstruck Luke.

“Oh my god! That was amazing! I mean we knew you could sing but that was epic! Why haven’t you fronted before?” Flynn asks.

“Jackie wouldn’t let me. The band was my idea back when I was slowly getting back into music but I was still wanting to stay back and play. I wrote all the songs and let her sing them. When I finally said I was ready for a shot she threw a fit and when the rest of the band sided with me she walked.” You say taking a swig of water.

“So this is why you refused to join us?” Alex asks.

“That and your style isn’t my style of music. It’s to pop centric but I told Julie there might be a chance of collaboration in the future.” You smile seeing Reggie get excited about the idea.

“And then we can do a country album!” He yells causing your bandmates to start laughing at your reactions. During your laughter you didn’t see a man dressed very businessy walk in.

“Y/N…” Julie says tapping your shoulder pointing to the doorway.

“Oh, hi!” You say walking over with your band to meet the man.

“I’m Eric from Capitol records. Are you Y/N?” He asks.

“Um, y-yeah I am.” You say reaching out to shake his hand. Your friends are eavesdropping behind you while pretending to hold a conversation of their own.

“I’ve seen many bands here, I’ve scouted some of the biggest names in music but the energy you displayed tonight is something we’ve never seen but have been looking for, for our label. Capitol records would be happy to have you join. Here’s my card. Give me a call and we will set up a meeting with the head of the label and get you signed.” He says handing you his card.

“Oh my, wow! Thank you. Also if you don’t mind me spreading the word but I know of another you might be interested in. I’ll send you their latest video if you’re up for it.” You smile sneaking a look over at your friend and her bandmates.

“Of course, we are always looking for new talents.” He says before exiting the room.

“Was that?! YES!” You scream jumping into Luke’s arms. Everyone starts dancing around cheering.

“We are being signed to Capitol Records!” You yell into the air as Luke holds you close to him. His eyes never leave your smiling face. He throws caution to the wind when you look back at him and he crashes his lips onto yours making everyone stop and gasp.

“Well it's about damn time!” Alex shouts as you two pull away.

“Well damn Patterson, if that’s what I get for getting signed I wonder what I’ll get after I tell you I sent your video to him as well.” You smile.

“YOU DID WHAT?!” The band screams together.

“We’re all getting signed.” You smile.

“I’m going to marry this girl.” Luke says kissing you once more with more passion than the first. Everything was falling perfectly into place and you couldn’t wait to see what the future holds for you all.

I don't know how good this is, it sounded good and looked good when I was writing so I’m throwing caution to the wind and going for it.

@parkeret I promised I’d tag you in my first one, I hope it doesn't suck!

@issaxcharlie thank you for also pushing me to do this as well!

@cookiebuba

#luke patterson x reader #luke jatp #luke patterson #julie and the phantoms #jatp alex #jatp reggie #julie x reader #julie and the phantoms imagine #charlie gillespie #jatp luke #jatp imagine

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maladaptive-ninja-returns · 3 years ago

Text

Into The Thick of It (2)

Loki x Female Reader

Chapter 2: The God

Series Summary: Her work as an agriculturist nearly takes the readers life is not for a stranger (and his weird looking dog) who later turns out to be the God of Mischief. Thrown into a completely different realm, you want to figure out a way home while trying to stay out of the way of this literal God. But fate has its own plans for the two of you.

Written for @tarithenurse and her #Taris1Kchallenge

Warnings: sexist remarks

Word Count: My jaw is selectively pounding now that my wisdom tooth is out and the stitches are in place. It feels so weird because its not like you can simply scratch an itch or around the itch in some way.

MASTERLIST in bio, darlings. Tags are open (check bio)

"How does this look?" Zaira is holding up a green dress that goes down to your toes in length. You give the deep shade a once over and turn back to your laptop. "Meh." Zaira tsks. "I mean-" you breathe and give your attention to your friend- "it's okay. For you. For me?" You shake your head and shrug before trying to discreetly get back to the screen. "Bullshit. You look amazing in green." You try to find the mouse on the screen. "Are you sure?" The question is bland. "Of course! No one can carry this like you! And for the sake of all things holy, stop looking at your death again and again!" Your brows furrow at the statement, turning back to Zaira, who still stands there with the green dress, except for one thing- the usual workspace of white and grey is now replaced with an eerily familiar dark forest with trees trying to touch the sky. "What?" It is nothing more than a whisper, this word erupting from your lips at the change in scenery. Your mind is at the edge of a realisation waiting to erupt when your hand feels an unwelcoming heat. The immediate reaction is to get your arm away from the laptop, or at least that is what you think you are doing considering the last saved spot of this occurrence in your memory. But there is no laptop. No chairs or tables. Just a bonfire in front of you and your hands covered in blood and tied in ropes tearing through your flesh. And beyond that fire are figures in the dark chanting verses that are alien to your ears. But just as the chanting grows louder, you can feel a cloud of dread begin to loom of your heart; growing bigger by the second. Zaira! You are screaming her name but your voice isn't audible and you cannot see her anywhere either. Zaira!! You call out for her again when the figures seem to be getting closer to you, the anxiety in your chest beginning to hurt even more. ZAIRA!!!

The loudness of her name in your conscience jerks you awake with the dread transported straight out of your hallucination. Still breathless and sweating from the nightmare, your head pounds at the sudden jump to the reality of finding yourself lying under a fur skin as heavy as you inside what seemed like a tent. From where you lay, the roof is a muddy beige colour dense enough to block sun or rain. Turning your head to your right, you can see a side table housing a copper goblet along with a copper jug. I hope to the Gods that water. I don't care if it's laced with poison at this moment. Turning to your left you are taken a little back to see familiar golden eyes staring from the copper jug back at you, so close that that saliva ridden tongue could lick you if it wanted. "Hi," you greet the familiar creature from the night of your nightmare, your heart still trying to dilute, resting by your side. The creature tilts its neck a little before you can see its tail rise up and swing from side to side. Such a doggo. You try to get up- with much effort, thanks to this animal duvet weighing just as much or maybe more than you- and breathe the cold air around you. Even though the anxiety of this recent incident is still looming around you in the corners you don't want to look at, it is a relief to feel the quiet around you. And the weird doggo looking at you seems to make those corners lighter, convincing your heart that it all ended not so bad at some point. Moving the fur duvet off you to get to the water on your side, you suddenly find yourself quickly putting the fur back on at the momentary realisation of something major amiss, bringing back all that anxiety that was watching you from the corners. "Where the fuck are my clothes?" you whisper right at the doggo despite knowing that poor thing can only swing its tail whenever you look at it. "They were tattered beyond repair." The voice immediately brings your duvet up to your chin before your eyes dart towards the entrance in front of you. No fucki-oh. A woman with skin paler than the pale described for Bella from Twilight stands at the entrance of the tent with a bunch of warm clothing. Her eyes carry a hint of grey and muddy green in them. She takes it upon herself to have already gotten permission to walk towards your side and place the clothes she has got in front of you before going back to secure the entrance. "You were fortunate to be alive in those deadly woods of the dark," she mentions while taking a thermos out of her dress and pouring the contents in the bowl kept on the makeshift table; all the while with her back towards you. You, still cautious of the eyes around you, slowly snuck the clothes inside the duvet to put them on. Only when putting them on, you realise the lack of a bra or panties; just a loose cotton camisole in their stead. ...okay. Maybe they didn't know my size. You look back at the woman busying herself around the tent. All you can see is the huge- and seemingly heavy- overcoat made out of an animal. Or maybe they...don't have the resources? Great, Y/N. Go be a judgmental b for the people who saved your life. The gown is a deep blue shade that neatly wraps around your shape and is put in place with the hooks, the last step being securing it all with the one string tied in what only you would call a bow. "So, it was you who saved me last night?" The woman brought you a bowl with steaming hot stew, bursting out in laughter on hearing your question. You stand there watching her immediately suppress the laughter as if she had been caught red-handed for a grave crime. "My apologies for what you just saw. It was not me who saved you." And before you can ask who it was, the woman gathers a wide bowl filled with water, a couple of hand towels and two bowls of what looked like homemade ointments, and walks out of the tent. You are about to go thinking about the materials that woman just took away when the only being you are familiar with, gets up from the bed, jumps down and struts out of the tent. "Wait...don't leave me," you whimper in a low tone, gathering a bit of strength to walk out right behind him. . The clearing in the forest has been turned into a camp with soldiers bustling in any direction you look. Swords, bows and arrows are being used for practice in one corner and the same are being mended in the other. Helmets akin to the ones Vikings wore can be seen on top of many heads. So can the undercut and braids. "Is this a cosplay fair?" you ask the one guy who passes by close to you. He is nearly the same height as you, but with a lush red beard and hazel eyes. He- and his two friends- observes you from head to toe, almost making you realise how out of place you already look. "This is a war camp, missy. One where you have no reason staying." You mock a laugh at the audacity of this person. "I will decide the reason for my stay myself...boy." You start to walk away, trying to find any familiar figure in this quite realistic cosplay village. But last you remembered, there has been no such fair going on in the vicinity of that cursed town. A heated hand captures your arm and forces you to turn around. A wince comes out of you and flashes of that gory incident move before your eyes. Especially the face of that man. The Viking guy takes a step towards you, not letting go of your hand in the first wank. "Sigmund! Who is this wench with a quick mouth?" Sigmund, the taller of the three men, with bulky features and a sharp nose huffed. "Someone who needs to learn her place, Kare." "Aye," the last of the three speaks, "she does not look like help. Not in that silk she wears." Kare smirks through that unruly beard of his. "Why, are you that prince's mistress then, lassy? Is that why you came out from those royal tents, eh?" Kare turns towards his lads to laugh, who had slowly gathered now to watch the show, giving you something new to be anxious about. Agni, on the other hand, makes his way through this crowd to come and stand next to you, observing the situation. "Fucking dogs," you whisper under your breath- which you are trying your best to stop from trembling- and begin to walk away again but Kare is already hopping in your path. "Why in such a hurry, my lady?" He bows and turns towards his lads to let his words be heard by everyone "Give us unworthy lads a chance to find out how well you warm the royal beds, eh?" But the 'lads' seem to be having a sudden seizure. Either that or the joke did not seem to register. A sudden movement behind you and all the eyes staring past you assure you in your heart that it is the former one. "Your lads do not seem to find that funny, Kare." A voice not too deep but certainly somewhere right under the surface with a weight that can be felt in your bones, speaks from right behind you, freezing you where you stand. It takes some time for you to turn around and look at the source of the voice. And once you do, you realise how tall this man stands. His pale skin is radiant and his features sharp. You could draw straight lines just by referencing his cheekbones. His black hair- perhaps the only one with black hair in this cosplay fair- is neatly braided in braids at each side and the rest of the hair left open. What shampoo does he use? "I pity your mother and sister," this man continues, "for meeting your lads in an alley someday and being asked the same question." He does not stir his gaze from Kare, constantly piercing through that man's existence without so much as a smile. "Apologies, your grace." Your grace? You turn to watch Kare and his buddies drop their heads down and then it hits you. Your grace?!!! Your head whips around with the air of surprise as you watch this man in a new light. I mean, yeah, he kinda looks like a...'your grace'. "It is not me you should be apologising to." He doesn't even blink. He is as stoic as a boulder and everyone here revolves around him. "Apologies...my lady." The words bring you out of the trance that this man's face has created for you and you turn to watch Kare bow to you along with his 'lads'. "Ansa!" the man calls out for someone, finally turning to look at you. You have to catch your breath when those green eyes bore into you, the stare not too piercing and neither too soft. Just balanced. But damn the skies for it is making you lose your balance somewhere inside you. "Yes, my lord," the familiar lady comes out of the crowd to stand before him with her head low. "How is the weather today?" He simply puts the question. Within seconds you realise what the question really is about. You try your best to stand still in this chilly weather despite the sun high in the sky but it is as if he can smell the chill off you. "It's cold my l-" she realises it too, running to the nearest tent to grab a fur coat just like her Lord's and put it gently on your shoulders. "My apologies, my lady. Apologies, my lord." "Are the armies ready for the west front, Aren?" "Yes, your grace. Two battalions are ready to march to the mountains. They wait for my signal." Aren, a tall ginger with soft features gives a warm smile when you look in his direction. "Very well. Go for it then." And with that command, Aren walks to the space vacating in front of you, spreads his arms and transforms into an eagle to fly up and away beyond the nearest mountain. You are left with your jaw unhinged as you try to make sense of what just happened, turning towards the man in charge here; all the while pointing at the sky. "H-how?" "Walk with me..." that commanding voice a couple of minutes ago has transformed into a soft tone that captures a completely different personality of this man. "Y/N." "Y/N," he repeats the name as if to memorise it, and lets his arm gesture you towards the direction you are asked to walk. "I am Loki, of Asgard. Pleased to make your acquaintance." "Asgard?" you wonder the name out loud, confusion visibly dripping from your face. "There is no place by the name Asgard on the maps? Is this further north in the Alps? Wait...are we still in Norway or did we change countries?" The guards by the biggest tent make way for Loki and you to enter. Unlike the place you woke up in, this one houses everything fit for a king. From the bed to the cutlery. And everything has a colour theme going on for some reason. A real deep shade of green. Even Loki's fur coat carries blues and greens as if they had been specially plunged from the deepest corners of the oceans on earth. "Y/N-" he gestures you to sit down on the settee by the foot of the bed while he pours you wine in a goblet- "I have to tell you something. Be kind enough to hear me out before jumping to conclusions." You take the glass from his hand and sit down on the settee. Oh! cold hands! Is he okay? It's really chilly out there. "What?" You wait for him to start. Loki stands by the conference table and faces you, his hands working with each other as he looks at them before finally letting his gaze meet yours. "You are no longer on earth. You were transported to Asgard last night during the Pagan ritual, where you were conveniently made a sacrifice, and would have died if not for Agni hearing your prayers and tearing that scum apart." Silence. Loki’s features show no emotions when he narrates the reality to you. In fact, he waits for a reaction from your end, carefully studying those y/e/c eyes as they blink at him in unadulterated innocence, turn away to look at Agni and then come back to him. Ultimately, you take a sip from the goblet, letting the wine go down your throat, the involuntary reflex of tasting something not to your liking naturally coming over your face. Waiting for a few seconds, you bring the goblet back to your lips, this time gulping down the contents within a breath. "Okay." Loki looks at you with a focused glare before tilting his head a little. "Okay?" You nod. "Are you-" Loki pauses to come and sit down in the chair right in front of you but at a respectable distance- "okay with everything that I just told you? All the parts of it that do not make sense to a human?" You breathe in a lungful. "Oh, Gods! No. I am overwhelmed at this point. To even consider the fact that I am not currently on earth and that I was about to be raped by an eighteen-year-old cultist if not for your wonderful doggo and you, I am considering. Because now that I look at you I completely put you in the silhouette I saw last night. And I thought this was some adult dress-up show going on until a legit person just turned into an eagle and fucking flew away right in front of my eyes. I mean...it would take a good amount of CGI to actually make that happen just in the movies, forget real life. And if I am not on earth, the thought of getting out of doing mindless labour because your boss is an asshole is very appealing, mind you. Even though that means I have been thrown straight into a pit of testosterone-filled sexist Vikings who look like they will pounce on me the first chance they get. So...yeah. I am...I...uhh...have decided to shut my brain down till-" you simply shrug before breaking into nervous laughter and bringing the empty goblet back to your lips, raising it as far as it could go before it decided to release a drop into your desperate mouth. Loki blinks at you before breaking into a smirk that he hides from your eyes. It feels like he has watched you slowly crumble a little within the last few moments when all you did was talk. He has noticed those shaking hand movements and those trembling lips that force a smile to show they are doing absolutely fine. He has observed that shift of your fingers to scratch an itch on your exposed neck and that movement of turning that sole ring made out of iron in your index finger; hiding your anxieties in the rotations of that little circle. And now he watches you trying to dissolve the incoming anxious winds in alcohol. He knows this look too well. The look of fear; fear of the unknown. Loki raises his hand to you. "Allow me to refill that. With something better." You watch his hands and make a mental note of those long pale fingers and how good they would seem wrapped around anything. "Something better? I don't think Asgard could provide me with a Long Island Iced Tea or a Jeager Bomb. Or a Zombie." Loki simply chuckles and you find yourself stuck on that toothed smile of his. Is he the same guy who was dragging his soldiers in the mud like anything? Taking the goblet from you, he gets up and walks towards a little cabinet that opens up like a medieval bar. "I sympathise with you being so far away from home. But I can assure you these...Vikings will not touch you or even think about pouncing on you ever." You furrow your brows and let your arms rest on each side while you tilt your head a little in question. "They know it better than to even think about what I claim as mine." You feel little chills go up your spine at his words, your legs going one over the other as you wiggle away certain scenarios from your mind. Damn! He should write dialogues for the entertainment industry. "Excuse me, sir," you press while raising your brow, "I may have fallen on your royal highness' land but that ain't making me anyone's property...considering this is your property." You cannot see it from where you sit, but the God chuckles at your audacity of raising your voice at him. He comes back to you with your drink. You notice that this time it is not the familiar red wine waiting for you in the goblet but something relatively darker and comparatively with a more medicinal odour. "No one will harm you. Agni will make sure of it. Isn't that right, beast?" You turn to watch Agni sitting right next to your feet, immediately wagging his tail at the mention of his name, contently growling as assurance. You notice how familiar this creature look to the Pitbulls back on earth. Give them pits some pointed skeleton for their backbone, a pair of horns and huge canines and these two breeds will be a copy of each other. "And we will find you a safe passage home once we reach back to the city." Home. unfortunately for you, the first thing at the mention of 'home' is the rush of crude flashbacks from last night of that horrid nameless town. No matter how hard you try to breathe in, the scenes keep on coming. Both Loki and Agni seem to sense the uneasiness creeping onto you. Your racing heartbeat and uneasiness of breath can be heard by them as clear as you can. "I hope you were not too attached to your clothes. I had to tear them apart to treat your wounds," Loki announces, gulps his herbal drink and walks towards the entrance of the tent. "Yeah, no problem. They were just clo-wait what? WHAT? You-" you get up and lower your voice for the fear of any third person hearing it- "you tore my clothes?" He nods with the most neutral expression you wanted to punch. "Yes. As you mentioned, they were just clothes. And nothing I haven't seen before. Now come on." You wonder whether to be relieved or angry with this one. Putting that thought on the back burner to simmer for a while, you gulp down the goblet without breaking any eye contact with him. "Where are we going?" "To get you out of your clothes again," he states without skipping a beat and you have to question all the good you have thought about him till now. Son of a bitch! What an ass- "You stink. About time you took a bath."

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yoditorian · 4 years ago

Text

a law divine - 1

soulmate au!ezra/reader

this is solely the fault of one single anon who called out something i put in the tags and now it’s a whole universe but you know what?? it’s the love of my life. anon i hope u see this 💛 i also just want to say i know there isn’t A Lot of soulmate talk in this one but it’s important for the narrative okay bear with me

playlist // series masterlist // main masterlist

word count: 7.2k (a Big Boy)

warnings: swearing, my usual allusions to smut bc we keep things neutral in this house, brief food/alcohol mentions, 18+ please no babies

It might be the ugliest ship you’ve ever seen.

Not that you’re really one to judge, the one you charter out when you’re running point on a job is a mismatched patchwork of rusty panels held together with electrical tape and hope. If there’s the slightest possibility you might be a teeny tiny bit disappointed in it, it’s only because agency jobs are usually a little cushier. A little safer for once. You could do with a bit safer.

Your family might prefer a lot safer, but you’d sooner take your chances in open space without a suit than take a job working scrapyards. At least risking your life on digs gets a decent payout.

“You the danger mouse?”

It’s not an accent you hear often on the Pug, the majority of the station’s population is human, but you turn with a smile to meet the bright purple eyes of the Thanne. Armour-strong scales and sharp teeth, but he seems kind and mild mannered despite his clear predatory biology. You nod as you readjust the pack on your shoulders.

“I’m Iras.” He holds his hand out to you. A distinctly human gesture made a little awkward by the sharp edged scales and extra fingers, but you shake it nonetheless. He’s your captain for this job after all. You wonder where a Thanne became so well versed in human custom, the species as a whole tend to keep to themselves instead of branching out into the universe like so many others, until his crew members appear on the boarding ramp.

Iras gestures to each of them in turn. Summer, a blonde woman with dark skin and a kind smile, and Milo, an older man with a swirling tattoo above his left eyebrow that matches the navy blue of his eyes.

“Is it just us?” You ask. You could have sworn there was a fifth name on the manifest you’d been forwarded, but teams are always subject to change. You just hope you’ll have your own room.

“Ezra always leaves things down to the wire, he’ll show up right before we’re due to push out.” Summer laughs fondly, throwing an arm around your shoulders like she’s known you her whole life. You’re usually a little wary with brand new teams but the way she’s already chatting away makes you feel at home. The last agency job you were sent on got dicey, fast, somehow you’re sure the same won’t happen with this lot.

“There he is.” Milo leans out of the ship to point out into the docks.

You turn to see a man sauntering through the throngs of harvesters towards the ship, and it’s odd. The rest of the crowd seems to melt away as he closes the distance, even the weight of Summer’s arm on your shoulders feels not quite there. You take the moment to study him. He looks all business with his dark hair and his charcoal grey shirt and the neat pack slung over his shoulder, but his pants and boots have seen better days and the streak of blonde at his temple makes you smile. It’s nice to finally be with a crew without a single stuffy addition.

“It’s not often I get to congregate with like-minded souls.” He grins when he’s in earshot, a flash of something feline in his eyes. You don’t want to admit that you like it.

“Like-minded?” You tilt your head at him as you follow Summer up the ramp and into the ship. Ezra slips in behind you just as it starts to raise. Just like the others said.

“We’ve all got the same death wish, Sunspot.”

The launch, at least, is smooth despite the beaten up ship and it’s only about twenty minutes before you’re far enough from the Pug to punch a lane to the next system over. At least it isn’t far, there’s only a day between now and making planetfall. Somehow, you’re not surprised to find that it’s more of a barracks and bunk beds situation rather than each having a private quarters. Last time you were hired by the agency, you definitely got your own room. But it gives you a chance to chat with the others as you unpack.

Milo explains the air isn’t breathable, so he’ll need to double check to make sure everyone’s filters are running at capacity. But he reassures you that it’s a comfortable temperature, so it’s good to know you won’t be sweltering in your suits or freezing your asses off.

You pick the bed on the wall beside the door, taking out a few essentials from your pack and tucking the rest safely away in the storage compartment. Just as he did back at the docks, Ezra is the last to find his way to the room. He settles his things on the bunk opposite yours because the universe has it out for you, apparently.

“Did I hear one of them call you the danger mouse?”

You struggle not to roll your eyes at the nickname awarded to anyone stupid enough to do your job, although admittedly he doesn’t sound like he knows why. You offer him your name instead and pretend the way he rolls it around in his mouth doesn’t send a shock right down to your bones. You’re not in the habit of sleeping with colleagues, not until the job’s over at least. But you’d be lying if you said you’re not tempted.

“They call me in when a site’s unstable but too profitable to close.” You answer, tugging your sleeves up as the climate control settles to a comfortable temperature.

Ezra raises an eyebrow, waiting for you to continue, and you pull off your gloves. They land on your thin mattress as you hold your hands out between you. Not even the slightest twitch.

“Steadiest hands on the Pug.”

“So they are.” There’s a challenge in his voice that threatens to send a shiver up your spine. It’s clear he doesn’t doubt your skill in the field, but the return of that glint in his eye from the docks has you wondering exactly what else he’s thinking about as he studies your hands. It’s not hard to work out.

It’s been so long since you had to travel out of the system, you forgot how much inter-system lanes can fuck with the human brain. You’re half asleep for the thirty minutes you spend sorting your things for the morning, barely enough energy to change into the sweatpants and ratty t-shirt you call pyjamas, before you crawl into bed and settle down almost immediately.

Only you don’t get to sleep for as long as you’d like. The rest of the crew seem to have filtered in after you, the shift of sheets and snores float through the dimmed room. Except, it’s not just that. There’s shuffling and bed creaking from further down the line of bunks. A hushed giggle sounds in the silence and-

Oh god. Oh no.

They’re not. They can’t be, they- they are.

You’re very awake all of a sudden, eyes wide as you keep them firmly on the ceiling and wishing as hard as you can for an alarm to start beeping or something. Anything to get whoever’s banging Summer to stop. A deep voice hushes her when she laughs again. Iras. Knowing is somehow worse. The mechanics- you don’t even want to think about it.

You turn onto your side slowly, but loud enough to hint that maybe they should find somewhere else for their escapades, and fold your pillow around your head as a kind of makeshift set of earmuffs. Whether they’ve quieted down or it muffles the noise, you’re not sure, but it seems to have worked enough. You catch Ezra’s eye in the almost-darkness, much in the same position as he holds his pillow over his own ears.

It’s embarrassing for the both of you, even as you share a conspiratorial look. But somehow, it’s less awkward to have to hear Iras and Summer going at it when you know he’s awake. He winces when a particularly loud squeak echoes through the room, and it takes everything in you not to bust out laughing. You fall asleep again eventually, making faces at Ezra in the dark until neither of you can keep your eyes open anymore.

You’re surprisingly well rested come the morning, when the whole ship jolts as it punches into the system and you’re almost thrown out of bed. So much so that it’s easy to forget that you woke up at all until you shuffle into the main living compartment of the ship. One of the crates by the wall has been cracked open, Milo hands out granola bars for breakfast.

Summer and Iras are sitting in the same chair, feeding each other, and it might be cute if you’d been awake longer and hadn’t been woken up by their activities in the middle of the night. You slump into a free chair, face twisted in disgust for a moment. You’re pretty sure nobody else sees until Ezra laughs and drops into the seat beside you. They’re nice people, from how they took you as a friend immediately, but that doesn’t change the fact that it’s just a bit much for your perpetually single heart to take.

“It’s a week-long job, they can’t take a break?” You watch as they finally pry themselves apart to start, you know, actually working. But not without a genuinely gross kiss that definitely toes the line of public decency. Suddenly the half-eaten bar in your hand isn’t all that appealing anymore.

“Soulmates take no breaks, Sunspot. I’m sure yours would be hard pressed to be anywhere but in bed with you whenever they get the chance.” Ezra winks and it takes you a moment to remember where you are. A glance at the pair makes your new knowledge obvious, the way they seem to be touching, even now, on opposite sides of the room.

“I’m not sure I believe in all that red string stuff.”

Once the ship is safely landed a short walk from the site, the days you spend digging pass with ease. The deposit is a decent size, it takes all five of you to cover it completely, and the payout should be enough to keep you all comfortable for a little while even with the agency’s cut. The crew around you fill the time enough that you barely notice the week coming to a close.

Summer sings in the mornings as she cleans her equipment and readies her pack for the day. Miles talks gently to the cells as though they can hear him, shushing them any time he worries a gem might corrupt. Iras seems to have a secret superpower when it comes to the ration packs, they always taste better when he’s the one on lunch duty. And Ezra spends the afternoons regaling you all with tales of ancient beasts, laying eggs that fossilise into the very gems you’re harvesting. Although you’re not sure how true they are.

You almost get through the whole dig without a hitch. Almost. But aurelac is a tricky thing, even a change in the wind can turn a site for the worst. You’re all sitting around at lunch when it happens. The telltale smoke wafts up into the air for no visible reason at all and although you’ve collected enough to cover the quota, you’d still rather not lose viable gems.

“Get to what you came here for.” Iras gestures in your direction and you dive into the pit head first.

You’re not even sure you stop to think as you follow the harvesting steps at lightning speed, salvaging half the corrupted cells before someone tugs you out by the collar of your suit. The rest of the site starts to smoke the moment you’re out of range, spitting and hissing and rendering the rest of the gems worthless.

“Danger mouse indeed.” Ezra chuckles over the comm system, hand still fisted in the fabric of your suit. For once, the nickname makes you smile.

While you all go your separate ways after the ship has docked back on the Pug, Summer makes you all promise to meet later at a club you’ve only heard of in your friends’ messy night out stories. Still, you pinky swear when she holds her hand out to you and try to remember if you have a single item in your wardrobe that’ll pass as club attire. Or at least something that isn’t so worn there are holes in it.

Even if it’s a song he knows, there’s no chance that Ezra could recognise it with the volume cranked so high through the cheap speaker that everything but the beat is distorted. Still, it doesn’t stop people from dancing.

He’s a little late, as usual, but he doesn’t need to worry as Iras appears behind him and claps a hand on his shoulder, pointing to a booth across the room where Milo is looking increasingly uncomfortable.

It doesn’t take long for Ezra to spot you and Summer in the middle of the dance floor, as he follows Iras around the edge of the space to the booth Milo’s claimed. You’re both more jumping than dancing, yelling the unintelligible lyrics of the song into each other's faces. He can’t hear your breathless laughter as Summer spins you in a circle, smile wide and bright, but he can feel it in his ribs. The drums of the song kick in at the same time the swirling lights of the club light you up like some kind of celestial being, just as you catch his eye through the crowd. And everyone else disappears. The rest of the world, rest of the universe, fades into the background. Just like they did the first time he saw you, glaring suspiciously at the ship on the docks.

Summer’s dragging you back to the table when the song comes to a close, the both of you out of breath and laughing, and Ezra has to try desperately to remember how to speak when he watches a little bead of sweat slide down the side of your neck. And stop himself from just licking a line straight up it. His silent suffering only increases when Milo holds out a shot of the most potent alcohol the Pug has to offer and you down it without so much as a flinch, winking at him when you return the glass to the table for good measure.

Milo calls it a night only an hour later, clearly only having braved the crowds of the club to celebrate the job. Summer and Iras are tangled in each other on the dancefloor, or the booth, as they keep the shots coming. You, at least, decide to keep your wits about you, declining every drink after the one Milo had handed you. Nobody’s going to fuck with a Thanne, even in as seedy a club as this, so you don’t worry about Summer as she gets sloppier and sloppier. But there’s no spiky non-human boyfriend looking out for you down here, it’s just you and the knife you keep at your hip.

You pull yourself from the dance floor, eyes tracking the room for the missing member of your party, until you feel a set of eyes on you from above. Ezra’s leaning on the bannister of the stairs, his unflinching gaze set solely on you. And you can’t help but smile. You follow him up to the mezzanine without hesitation when he glances upwards and back to you. The buzz of the shot has mostly faded from your veins, replaced by something much more dangerous by the way he’s looking at you. The way he’s looked at you since you met him.

It’s not hard to spot your friends from up here, leaning over the barrier with Ezra to people watch. He crafts stories about every stranger who catches his eye. The man hunched over the bar in a beaten up jacket, the waitress who fiddles with her necklace any time her hands aren’t occupied, the pair of lovers tucked away in the dark corner on the other side of the mezzanine. You find yourself sliding closer to him the more he talks, wrapped up in the warmth of his voice even in the rundown club. Your shoulder knocks into his as you mindlessly bop to the music and listen to his made up stories. Utterly enchanted. It’s hard to remember a time when you felt this way with anybody, if you ever did at all. To tell the truth, it’s hard to remember anyone before Ezra. And neither of you have even made a move yet.

He's got his arms braced on the barrier, and you find yourself lifting the one closest to you so you can slip in between them. Surrounded on all sides and you couldn’t feel more comfortable. To his credit, he doesn’t falter in his vivid storytelling about the group now settled in the booth your crew had claimed earlier, not even a stutter as you turn in his arms to face him. He’s decided they’re here to celebrate the beginning of a new job, rather than a successful harvest. His eyes flick to you for the barest moment, enough to notice yours are firmly focused on the way his lips move around his words, before searching the club below for another story. Another way to keep his mind and mouth occupied so he doesn’t accidentally admit all the sinful things he wants to do to you when you press your ass up against him like that.

“Ezra.”

He shouldn’t be able to hear you over the music, but you’re nose to nose and he’d be hard pressed to ignore the way you practically purr his name. He’s expecting you to make another flirty comment in that voice that sends his mind reeling into all manner of indecent places the same way you have been all night.

“Can I kiss you?”

He doesn’t expect you to just outright ask him.

“Yeah.” Yeah. Hell of a time for his eloquence to fail, not that it matters anyway. You’re on him the moment he stops speaking.

It’s like the sun explodes inside him, the way his stomach bottoms out the second your lips touch his. There’s nothing soft about it, not the way he might have imagined there would be. If he’d been so bold as to let himself imagine what kissing you might be like. You’re all warmth and heat and you still taste a little bit like the shot you’d thrown back earlier, and he finds himself falling. Not that Ezra minds, he hopes his parachute never opens if it means you’ll keep kissing him like this.

You let your fingers roam under his jacket, twist themselves in the thin fabric of his t-shirt, and you sigh into his mouth. God, you knew he’d be good at this. His hands leave a trail of starlight as they trace over your body, never quite choosing a place to rest. They start to settle on your shoulders, only to skim down your arms and squeeze harshly on your waist, to play along the strip of skin he finds just underneath the hem of your shirt, to grip harder than he might mean to onto the meat of your ass through your pants. You gasp, break the kiss for barely a moment, and stop his apology in its tracks.

He doesn’t protest when you walk him backwards, still groping at each other like it’s just the two of you in the whole club. Ezra only groans when his back hits the wall and you push even closer into him, as if there was even any space left for air between your bodies already. He’s not about to complain. He could kiss you for a thousand years and it still wouldn’t be enough. It’’ll never be enough, not for a soul as hungry as his. You pull back too soon, far too soon, and it takes a solid minute for his brain to kick in and break the vice grip he still has a little too low for the public eye.

Oh, that look on your face. He’s in trouble.

“Where are you off to?” Ezra asks, flushed and breathless, a hand stretched halfway out to where you’re backing toward the stairs.

“Home,” You say with a sly smile, “You coming?”

He can’t push off the wall fast enough.

You don’t live far from the club, a ten minute walk at the most, but Ezra manages to make it a solid twenty with the way he keeps pulling you to him. Not that you’re about to complain. You’ve been waiting a week to let him get his hands on you. At the press of his lips on your neck, the shudder it sends down your spine, you wonder if part of you has been waiting even longer than that.

You’re trying, desperately, to type in the keycode to your apartment. If Ezra could calm down with the grabby hands, you might have gotten it right straight away.

“No roommates?” He asks, kissing along your shoulder, and you take the temporary reprieve to kick your brain into gear and remember the fucking numbers.

“Hugo won’t be too upset if I make him sleep on the couch.”

The door slides back into the wall to reveal a dark apartment, a strip of light from the hall falling on a very orange cat. He stares at you for a second, clearly not particularly pleased that he’s been so rudely roused from a nap, before he settles back to sleep stretched out on the couch cushions. Hugo. Ezra is silently relieved that the roommate is just a cat, he’s not sure he’s got the self control to stay quiet tonight. Or to make sure you do.

You waste no time once you gesture for Ezra to walk in ahead of you, flicking the switch on the wall to slide the door shut and pulling him back to your lips. He doesn’t hesitate to crowd you up against the cold metal.

Although you could devour each other until the closest sun explodes and swallows the station whole, Ezra has to break away. To think, to breathe, to tease you a little about the moan he just swallowed from you. But you beat him to it.

“Gotta catch your breath?” The smile on your face threatens to make his knees buckle, and with you pressed up against the closed door the way you are? He might just let them.

“What do you want, Sunspot?”

You left a lamp on in your bedroom, the door cracked just enough to let a little filter through to the main living space. Still, he’s almost completely silhouetted against the warm yellow glow. As if he’s some kind of ethereal being, maybe he is.

“Make me see the stars.” You pull him in as close as you can and let your lips brush over his as you whisper. His next words make you shudder almost as much as the way he drags the zipper of your jacket down, slowly, tooth by tooth.

“As you wish.”

And boy, does he deliver.

You’re expecting things to feel more unfamiliar than they do, as you explore each other for the first time, but it’s like you’ve been here before. Once, twice, a hundred times before. Every move feels oddly choreographed. Ezra knows exactly how to take you apart and put you back together again, the way he pulls every twitch and moan out of you so expertly. You’re no different, as your fingers map the plains of his chest like it’s muscle memory.

You shake it off, put the thoughts to the back of your mind. You’ve been around the block a little in your time on the Pug, it only makes sense that he has the same kind of experience. But shared experience or not, you can’t deny how much having him so close feels like a homecoming of sorts.

It’s the best sleep of your whole fucking life and, honestly, you’re not that surprised. Ezra makes a damn good pillow. Even if you both wake hours later into the day cycle than either of you normally would. Even if he’s more of a morning person than you are. It’s kind of nice, to sit still snuggled in your pile of blankets and watch him potter around your apartment as Hugo winds around his ankles like he’s been there for years.

Your fridge, however, is heartbreakingly empty and renders his offer of making breakfast pointless. Instead, he pulls his shirt on and offers to take you to the best little diner he knows, tucked away in the heart of the marketplace. It’s a hard offer to turn down.

“What kind of gentleman would I be to have so much income at my disposal and not treat such a beauty as yourself to a good meal?” He winks as he flashes his credit chit at you as if you didn’t scan in for your paychecks at the same time. You laugh as you empty a food pouch into Hugo’s bowl, and tell him he better show you all the good breakfast spots. You shrug off his raised eyebrow and mutters of a ‘next time’. As if he didn’t already know.

Still, Ezra takes you by the hand the moment your apartment door secures itself shut behind you, leading you through the hall and out into the street, and you’ve never felt more wanted.

It’s like everything’s brighter, walking leisurely through the bustling market stalls with Ezra. The smells are stronger as spices in the air cling to your nose, the cacophony of vendors calling out almost sounds like music, and you start to laugh. Hand in his, in the middle of the maze of stalls full of food and tools and trinkets. As if it’s just the two of you in the whole universe.

At least Ezra doesn’t look back at you like you’re crazy. He smiles too, just as big, and you feel bathed in warmth the same as when the sun comes out planetside.

You’re both still grinning when he leads you deeper through the market, down an alley and up a flight of stairs to an unassuming door.

“Is this where you murder me?” You joke just as the door opens to reveal a short older woman with an eyepatch, who pulls Ezra down into a tight hug as soon as he’s in arms reach. He introduces her as Merse, the woman who’s run the best diner no one’s ever heard of on the whole station. She slaps his arm for his cheek, but her grin grows twice as wide when she spots your intertwined hands.

Ezra pulls you through the doorway after him as he follows Merse, chatting about how she always keeps the best table open just in case he brings a friend and you try not to smile too wide when she wiggles her eyebrows at you. He says something to you, but you’re too distracted by the view from the big windows.

The far wall is completely glass, overlooking the main docks, lined with booths. A small family sits in one of them, their two children standing up on the seats to watch the ships come and go. You’ve never seen it from this angle before, always down in the masses and scanning the boards for new jobs. It’s kind of beautiful. In a rusty, patchwork sort of way.

Merse points you towards one of the booths with a promise that she’ll bring you the best breakfast you’ll ever have, something tells you she’s not lying.

It’s not long after you slide into the booth that she comes marching out of the kitchen with two plates, wafting steam that makes your mouth water and your stomach rumble. Rice and vegetables and eggs and all sorts of things you’ve never even seen pile high, and you’d worry you wouldn’t be able to finish it all if you weren’t so hungry.

“You know I won’t break, right?” You push your fork around in the remaining rice on your plate as you watch Ezra absorb your words. He thinks about it for a long moment, dark eyes over you before settling on your own.

“What’s this about?” He knows, you know he knows. More importantly, you know he’s going to make you say it. In the middle of the day cycle, in this family friendly diner.

“Just,” You exhale sharply, “Making sure you’re aware.” Your body floods with a shyness that’s alien compared to the confidence you had last night and suddenly, your breakfast is the most interesting thing on the Pug. You can practically feel him smiling at you, but you don’t dare look up to meet it.

He was right though, the food really is some of the best you’ve ever had.

It’s not until you’ve wandered back through the market, still hand in hand, and found your way back to your apartment that Ezra decides to bring it up. He may have been more than a little distracted last night, but he’s sure he spotted a set of old books sitting on a shelf above your couch. You freeze, ready to go on the defensive about how ink and paper will never be obsolete, until you realise he’s genuinely interested. He’s not judging you by any means. Something about the curiosity shining in his eyes makes your heart flutter more than you care to admit.

He could watch you talk about your books all day, every day, for the rest of his life. How your eyes lit up when you recognised his interest, a paperback lover himself. You can’t seem to stop yourself as you dive into the intricate details of your favourite classics, two or three hundred year old texts that make you feel like you’ve lived a thousand different lives at once. He wants so badly for you to keep talking but the more impassioned you become, the more he wants to kiss you.

You trail off at some point, he loses track when you climb into his lap to point out notes you’ve made in margins and the books lie scattered on the couch beside you as you kiss him until neither of you can breathe. You’re still a little achy from last night, deep in your bones, and you hiss when his teeth scrape across your shoulder.

“Won’t break, is that right?” Ezra chuckles darkly and nips at your jaw, “Can I try?”

“Please.”

You wake at the creak of your bedroom door, sometime in the early hours. Hugo noses his way through the narrow gap and hops up onto the bed, curling up on the unclaimed pillow by your head. Ezra sleeps deeply, face buried in your neck, and you let the warmth of him wash over you. It ebbs and flows like a tide, that familiarity. The undeniable fact that something about this just feels right. You’ve known this man a week and yet you’re here wondering, as he rests in your arms, if he might want more than just this with you.

Oh, but you are so afraid. Afraid to put a name to anything about him because what then? Will he tell you that you’re simply a placeholder in his life for something better, or that his heart might bleed through his skin when you’re apart? You’re not sure which is worse. Not that it matters, there is no word in any language that would be able to explain exactly how you feel about the man asleep in your arms. It’s enough, you think, to have him with you at all. In any capacity. Whatever pieces of his soul he bares as your breathing evens and his mind wanders. That is enough, and you will protect it with your life.

You have to part ways at some point, of course. Another week of rolling around in your bed sheets together, on the couch, on your pitiful kitchen counter, up against the wall, and Ezra gets a call from the agency. It’s a last minute job, the crew only need an extra set of hands to fit the safety standards, but it’s several systems out from the Pug. It’ll take him away for at least a month. You trail after him at the docks, with promises of messages in his absence and all manner of unsavoury activities on his return. It’s with a deep kiss and a wolf whistle from a couple of dock workers on their break, that you wish him luck. And ask him to hurry back.

Summer’s message surprises you when it dings through on your tablet. Some gajillionaire on Dallore T53 has found an aurelac deposit on the grounds of his new estate and wants it gone. She’s preoccupied, already out on another dig with Iras and a new crew. But it’s the kindness of her even thinking to offer it to you that makes your heart swell. It’s been a while since you’ve had real, honest to god, friends.

You’d go in alone, normally, for something like this. But now? Now, you’re punching in Ezra’s comm pin before you can even really register what it is that you’re doing. He only got back a week ago, and you made him settle in back home before he could settle in yours. It’s not like the two of you would be doing any resting on his return to your apartment, exactly. The job was a pain, he’d told you, it ran months longer than anyone expected and you’re sure he’s still exhausted. He won’t agree, but you find you have to ask. Just in case.

“Sunspot?” He sounds happy, rested. And you breathe a sigh of relief, at least he can follow your orders when he wants to.

Hugo snakes around your ankles at the familiar voice, the same way he does any time the man himself walks through the door. If you didn’t know that the little orange devil’s alliances lie in who feeds him, you might think he loves him more than you.

You explain about the job, make sure to stress that he doesn’t have to come. That you don’t even really need to take it if he’d rather you stay close by. Okay, you don’t say that out loud, but the smile you hear in his words through the speaker makes it known that he’s heard you. Loud and clear.

It doesn’t matter in the end, not when he accepts before you even have a chance to give him any details. You don’t know why you were so worried he might say no.

“Any excuse to be warmed by your light, Sunspot.” Hugo brushes up against your leg at the same time Ezra’s voice practically drips through the speaker, smooth as honey.

“Is that a euphemism?”

“Do you want it to be?”

You choke on your breath and he laughs like you’ve told the funniest joke in the universe. He’ll kill you one of these days, you’re sure of it.

You charter the ship you usually take on private jobs, the space a little smaller than you remember with another person on board, but it’s not like either of you aren’t used to being in close quarters with each other by now. At least Ezra has the decency not to be mean about the beaten up exterior, she still flies true. He’d grinned at that, told you how a rough outside often means the opposite of the interior mechanics. The glint in his eye is enough to know he’s not just talking about the ship.

At least the planet is in the same system as the Pug, so there’s no need to punch through to a lane. You fly in silence for a few hours, the familiar feel of the controls under your fingers as you guide it through the sky. Ezra’s eyes remain firmly on you although you pretend as though you don’t notice, and it takes him a moment to come back to the present when you ask him to flick a few switches and prepare to enter the atmosphere.

The coordinates the client gave you to land are only a short walk from the house itself, a great stone castle-looking thing. It’s kind of ugly, the way the limestone juts out above the treeline. A big white block among the rich reds and oranges of the leaves. They grow that colour all year round, perpetually stuck in spring and summer. It must be nice to have the kind of money to find somewhere like that and decide you’ll build a house there. The air is breathable, and a quick look at the planet file proves it’s never too hot or too cold. A perfect place to build a house really. Although, if it were you making that kind of decision, you’d maybe go for a design that’s a little less cubist.

The deposit isn’t huge, but it’ll be a good payout nonetheless providing the cells are all in good nick. You and Ezra wade through swathes of long grass and wildflowers until you find a spot to set up camp. At least you’re not stuck in bulky suits and having to lug around your equipment.

You couldn’t have asked for a more perfect dig if you’d tried. Each of the cells sit far enough away from each other that even if one were to fail, it wouldn’t corrupt a whole mess of the others. Although with both of your talents, it doesn’t surprise you when you collect every last crystal without a single misstep.

You’d told Ezra the profit would be split down the middle, equal pay for equal work. But it doesn’t stop him from sliding an extra gem into your pack to cover the ship charter. After all, you’re the one who was offered the job in the first place. He’s just following his heart, the one that walks around outside of his body and throws itself into deposits mid-corruption.

You hold one of the little gems aloft in the sunlight and watch as it sparkles.

“I used to think it was weird how rabid people go for these. But the more I dig the more I get it, isn’t it the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen?”

Ezra tilts his head like he’s studying the rock, but his dark eyes don’t leave yours.

“It’s a close second.”

Sap.

Night falls before either of you realise just how late it is, clearing out the last few cells of the deposit. It’s not worth going back to the Pug now, he reasons, and you find it hard to disagree. The ache of the few days you’ve spent digging has settled deep in your muscles, the thought of having to run through docking procedure when you’re so tired is enough to make you wince.

You let him take you for all you’re worth under the watchful eye of the heavens, and find there’s more stars behind your eyelids than you could ever hope to see in the skies. It’s all you can do to cry out the name of the only god to ever make you feel this holy. Ezra.

He wakes with the sun, the same way he always has on jobs, to find you curled so tightly against him that it bubbles up from his toes all the way to his throat and he finds his eyes threatening to spill over. Everything in the universe seems to slot so perfectly together when you’re like this. Ezra sighs, content to never let the moment end. You are so beautiful.

He shifts up onto his elbow a little, still cradling you against him, and lets his free hand trail softly over your face. Tracing the shell of your ear, the curve of your cheekbone, the bridge of your nose. The dawn’s sunlight breaks over the trees and filters through the fabric of the tent, bathing you in soft green light. He could stay here, holding you, until the universe implodes. Ezra doubts he’d notice such an insignificant thing with you beside him.

But end it must, and he rouses you gently with soft whispers and kisses against your temple. You stretch in his arms, not unlike Hugo, and sigh as your joints pop and settle. Packing up happens slowly, moving around each other so naturally it’s as though you’ve done it a thousand times before. Every time Ezra passes, you drop a kiss wherever you can reach. His shoulder, the arm of his jacket, that little patch on his jaw. He pretends not to blush when you catch his hand and carefully press your lips to the little tattoo between his thumb and index finger, you pretend not to notice when he does.

You’ll be the death of him, he’s sure of it. The way you keep watching him out of the corner of your eye, the way your smile is so bright when he catches you that he can barely stand to look at it. With the tent and equipment packed up, his fingers itch to thread through your own as you start the walk back to the ship, there’s not a word in the universe strong enough to describe just how much he hates that both his and your hands are too full.

It’s odd, thinking about it. How you met by pure chance, hired by the agency just because you were on the same station at the same time. Would he have ever met you if you’d chosen a different career path, if he had? Maybe somewhere, centuries before or after this moment, where you’re meeting again. Different lives, different times, spanning across all of existence. Maybe, right here and now, you’re starting to feel the way he does about you. Just a little. Maybe he’ll get up the courage to ask what you think, how far you want to take things. He’d give himself to you in a heartbeat, without question. In a way, he already has.

Ezra can’t stop himself.

“What do you make of the red string of fate?”

“All you’ve seen of the universe and you still believe in soulmates?”

“Maybe I’m more foolish that I made myself out to be.” He shrugs, trying not to let his eyes fall to the little finger of his right hand. Trying not to clench his fist to show you exactly how much your disbelief affects him down to his bones, as though his soul itself is frowning. You’re smiling. Uncharacteristically quiet, but you seem appropriately pleased by his answer and stray a little further out into the long grass.

Curiosity gets the better of you.

“Can you see yours?” You have to call out across the gap you’ve unintentionally created, yellow stalks swishing in the breeze between you, and for a moment you’re not sure he heard.

Ezra looks at his right hand, at the thin red string tied neatly at the knuckle of his little finger, and follows the line as it threads through the grass to where it’s knotted at your left.

“No.”

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @gotta-have-faye @freeshavocadoooo @darnitdraco @greeneyedblondie44 @fire-is-catching-always

#oh god here it is i hope it lives up to what i've made it out to be #a law divine #prospect (2019)#ezra (prospect)#ezra x reader #ezra x you #liz does words #soulmate au #smut

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