#out of all the people I never thought it would be sophia that drops the bomb

[holdfastperseus]

So, Loki is in love, as confirmed by Isaac Bauman. But it’s not with Sylvie, as can be inferred from Sophia’s interview. I wonder who he’s in love with. Gotta be whoever he’s looking at like this, right?

[spiderb00]

DRIVE ME CRAZY

Daniela Avanzini x reader

"You are the only person who can drive Daniela's car (besides her), and only she knows why"

Genre – fluff Warnings – none (request)

now playing - No Pole, by Don Toliver

Leaving the party, you had Daniela leaning on you, the Latina too drunk to stand. Manon was behind, holding on to her girlfriend, a little more sober than Daniela. You had the day off, and you took advantage of it to have some fun together.

"Yn, you can go with us if you want, you don't need to call an Uber, we'll drop you and Dani off at home" Manon says, her girlfriend nodding and agreeing.

"What? No, thank you guys, but we're going in Dani's car." You said, taking the keys out of your pocket, opening the passenger door and placing Daniela in the seat.

"But how is Dani going to drive? Is she drunk as hell?" Manon said, not even crossing her mind that you would drive.

"She's not driving, I'm going." You said, as if it were obvious. Manon's jaw dropped.

"Daniela lets you drive her car?" Manon asks in complete shock.

Daniela had never let anyone touch her car, Manon had tried more times than she could count and the blonde had always refused every time. Daniela considered that car her baby, the most precious treasure she had, the red car was simply treated better than many people.

"Yeah, why are you so surprised?" You asked, really confused as to why Manon was so surprised.

Manon didn't even bother to answer you, walking past and going straight to Daniela, you and Manon's girlfriend shrugging.

"Dani, look at me." Manon said, patting the Latina's face, who was almost asleep in the passenger seat. "You let Yn drive your car, but you didn't let me go to the mall that day?" Manon asked, receiving only a drunken smile from the blonde.

"My baby can drive my other baby." Daniela said, reaching up and giving Manon a little "boop" on the nose, laughing and throwing her head back on the seat.

Giggling, you twirled your girlfriend's car keys in your fingers, leaning close to the passenger door and checking to make sure Daniela didn't have any body parts outside the car before closing the door.

"Good night everyone, stay safe and drive carefully." You said, winking at Manon as you got into the car, starting it up and making the engine make a satisfying sound.

Manon was left with her jaw on the floor, only to be pulled out of her stupor by her girlfriend.

"Damn, she's so fucking charming."

Manon thought that was just an isolated incident, Daniela was drunk, that was the only reason you had the power to drive Daniela's car. She couldn't be more wrong.

You, the Kats, and the Kats' girlfriends were relaxing, all of you playing the monopole that Yoonchae had won from Manon. Daniela was starting to get hungry, and leaning over she rested her head on the chest of the woman who was sitting behind her.

"Baby, can you please go buy food?" Daniela asked, kissing your neck and smiling innocently.

Smiling at her, you placed your hand around her neck, bringing her in for a quick kiss, then standing up.

"Does anyone need anything?" You asked, taking Dani's car keys from her hand as she held it out to you.

"Oh, could you bring me-"

"Wait, wait, wait! Is that your car key? Didn't I see it outside?" Manon asked, making all the girls turn their attention to Yn.

"It's my car." Daniela says, shrugging as if it were obvious.

"Are you serious?" "Are you kidding?" "I can't believe this!" The voices were heard, all surprised, making Daniela raise an eyebrow and you become confused.

"Why are you so surprised?" Daniela says, looking at all the girls for answers.

"You don't let anyone drive your car!" Sophia said, making Manon point at her in agreement.

"THAT'S IT! I'VE BEEN SAYING THIS AND NOBODY LISTENS TO ME!" Manon says, jumping in her place on the floor, making her girlfriend try to calm her down a little.

"Guys, Yn is my girlfriend..." Daniela tried to end the discussion.

"WE ARE YOUR BEST FRIENDS!" All the girls screamed in leather.

"Yeah, but Yn looks sexy driving my car." Daniela said, looking at you and biting her lip ignoring the "ew" leather that was coming from the girls.

The road was empty, you had your left hand on the steering wheel and your left hand on Daniela's thigh, who was sitting in the passenger seat. Daniela's playlist played softly through the car speakers, and you were relaxed by the caresses Dani was giving the back of your head.

"I love seeing you like this..." Daniela said, looking at you and biting her lower lip.

"Like what?" You asked, even though you already knew what the Latina was talking about.

"Driving, all focused..." Daniela said, buckling her seatbelt and leaning in to kiss your jawline as you stopped at a red light.

"Dani... Get back to your seat, baby." You said, unconsciously lifting your head and exposing your neck for the blonde to kiss.

"But you look so sexy like this, I want to make you feel good." Daniela said, placing her hand on your cheek and pulling you into a hot kiss.

Your two tongues danced together, Daniela's lip gloss gave the kiss a good taste, your sighs could be heard, but the music drowned most of it out.

Startled by the horn that sounded behind you, you and Daniela quickly moved away, the blonde laughing while you shook your head, giving a little smile.

"We'll finish this when we get home." Daniela said, buckling her belt again and winking at you.

Well guys, requests are finally being taken!!!

if this has any errors, sorry, I brought my mom to the salon and I don't have my computer, so I wrote everything on my phone.

but, I hope you like it <3

xoxo, spider.

[theplanetsandstars]

Touch. F.W

A/n: this is very short and rushed but I needed it out of my drafts. English isn’t my first language and I apologize for any grammar errors. This is shit angst but that’s what I love <3

Summary: You and Fred have been dating for a couple of months. Now that it’s public he’s acting less affectionate towards you, why?

Fred Weasley was unlike anyone you had been with before. Those who had you before only wanted your body, not your heart. The showed you off like a prized possession instead of treasuring you. But Fred was caring and told you to express you’re feelings and never hold anything from him. That he was there for you for all you’re pretty and all you’re ugly he would stick around, that’s what he would say. That was even before your relationship with him went public he was so sweet.So why wasn’t he the same around his friends?

Sure around yours he was touchy-super touchy. Always had his hand on you no matter what, whether in was on you’re thigh, the small of you’re back or even just snakes around you’re body that was his love language, physical touch. It scared you at first the touch, because it usually came with intentions. But with Fred it was different, it was affectionate.

So of course it meant something to you when he almost refused to touch you when his friends were around.

One day you were going off to hogesmade with you’re friends and without Fred, just a girls day. But you knew that he would be out with his brother and friends as well. When you entered the three broomsticks with youre friends you immediately recognized the red head sitting with his friends in the far back corner he simply smiled at you. No big hug or even just a wave just a smile which you didn’t return back

Luckily you’re friends helped you forget all about it but, that’s wasn’t enough of a distraction to prevent you from seeing him wave at some blonde Gryffindor who walked in. That’s the first time an instance like this has happened and even though it bothered you to you’re core, there was no point in arguing with him, you didn’t want to be a bother.

About a week later you were heading to one of his quidditch matches cheering as loudly as you could for you’re boyfriend. Once it was over Gryffindor had won, as expected you were so excited and proud of you’re boyfriend who had worked so hard for this. You rushed to the outside of the changing rooms to wait for him where many other people were waiting as well. “Hey! Who are you here for?” You heard a girl ask you turned and saw the blonde who Fred waved to from the three broomsticks you smiled at her “Hey! I actually here for Fred” you said and hee smile dropped a little “oh I didn’t know Freddie had a girlfriend” she said and that made you’re heart drop

Not only at the nickname but also at the fact that they’ve probably talked and hung out but he’s never mentioned you or the fact that he has a girlfriend? You needed to leave you could not see him when you were like this, reafy to argue and yell at him but he’s cluleless and just won a match you thought. It’s better to simply distance yourself for right now. With that in mind you turned around and pushed through the crowd of people and ran back to you’re dorm.

Unbeknownst to you Fred did look for you. Looked everywhere high and low wasn’t listening to what anyone was saying because he was trying to find his girl. Once he couldn’t find you he saw Aubrey, the blonde Gryffindor girl and decided to talk with her all the way back to the Gryffindor common room where again, you were no where to be found. Fred was starting to get irritated just wanting to find you and be in Youre arms. He turned to Audrey who kept talking about quidditch match “hey have you seen y/?” He asked interrupting her mid sentence “uh yeah she was waiting for you outside the locker rooms but then she just left” a frown appeared on Fred’s face you wouldn’t just leave like that you had reason “uh any chance she said where she was going?” He asked and Sophia simply shook her head no

Fred decided to look for you in you’re dorm knocking anxiously “Hey love it’s me open up please” you had been crying in Youre dorm but you couldn’t let me know that “one sec!” You called out as you quickly composed yourself and cleaned up you’re dorm a bit “hi Fred” you said once you opened the door. He just looked down at you and admired you, although it had only been a couple of hours he missed you so much. He bent down to kiss you but you turned you’re head the other way “um Fred I’m really not in the mood, I’m really tired” you said while looking down.

He flashed a sad smile at you “no intention dove I wanted to kiss you just to kiss you” he placed two fingers under you’re chin and brought you to look at him, but tears were slowly forming in you’re eyes. Once Fred noticed this he immediately started wiping You’re tears. “Hey hey love, it’s just me you’re okay it’s okay” you turned around ashamed that you allowed yourself to cry in front of him “M’fine im sorry im just-I don’t Even have a reason to be crying” you tried to laugh it off while Fred simply soothed you and brought you to sit down on the edge of you’re bed.

“Love I know you said it’s nothing and it’s fine if it’s nothing but it doesn’t seem like that, no one cries for no reason, so talk to me please, I’m always here for you” you tried you’re best to smile at him “m’fine i promise i don’t know hormones or something but I’m fine” you lied, he looked disappointed he knew you were hiding something and he just wanted you to tell him “so why weren’t you outside the locker room then like you said you’d be?” Fuck, lie quick “I wasn’t feeling very good I actually left a little before the game ended” you lied again but Fred didn’t want to pressure you any further.

“Okay c’mon let’s go to sleep” he said with a smile on his face. You two had gotten accustomed to leaving you’re belongings in each others dorm. You just smiled and nodded while he made his lips meet you’re temple before getting ready to sleep.

———-

The next day you woke up and reached for Fred, wanting to feel comforted. Only thing was that he was gone, he left before you had gotten up. Even though you guys didn’t have a sex you wondered why you felt used, off. But you got up and got ready for you’re day.

“Hey y/n!” Luna smile at you “hey Luna how are you?” You asked her and her smile dropped “i should be asking you that don’t you think?” You loved Luna but sometime you truly had no idea what she was talking about “what?” You politely asked. “Oh well I simply thought that you’re boyfriend leaving early in the morning from you’re dorm to hang out with Sophia wasn’t a very nice thing to do” Sophia, the blonde Gryffindor, what the fuck was he doing with her? “Oh I didn’t even realize” you told Luna and she simply frowned and walked away

You went through you’re day wondering what you had done to fuck things up with Fred. We’re you too much? Too hard to love? Or not enough and that’s why he spent so much time with Sophia. You’re thoughts were interrupted by Harry, “Hey y/n you alright? You seem a bit well, off” you put on a smile “yeah yeah im fine what’s up with you?” You asked “okay well you better be alright Fred said you were going to the party with him tonight” he said happily. Harry had always been a good friend so of course he didn’t realize what he’d said would affect you. “Oh. Oh yeah! Um of course I’ll be there” you said catching yourself. You and Harry continued walking through the halls when you saw Fred with his group of friends.

You’re face dropped and you stopped waking. “Um I’ll meet up with you later Harry alright?” You told him before turning away, but it was too late Fred had already spotted you and excused himself to go after you.

“Love wait up!” He called out but you continued walking.But of course Fred’s height and legs helped him watch up to you rather quickly he stood in front of you looking down to meet you’re eyes but you couldn’t look at him. Trying to escape you tried to go around him but he quickly caught you.

“Hey is this a joke? Cause it isn’t fucking funny what’s wrong?” He asked concerned “It’s nothing Fred I’m just trying to get to class go back to you’re friends yeah?” You told him “no no you’re not trying to get to class you’re trying to get away from me so can I at least know what I did?” He asked now pleading praying that you would tell him, but you didn’t if you were already too much why keep bothering him?

“It’s nothing to do with you okay? I’ve just been super stressed lately is all” you told him calmly finally getting the courage to look up at him. He frowned a little “okay dove is there anyway I can help, you know I could do you’re muffle studies homework for you” he offered “no I just need to resolve this on my own thanks though” you said with a slight smile. “ I hate to see my pretty girl like this okay? So truly if there’s anything you need love I’m here okay?” He reassured you, you simply nodded and said you’re goodbyes.

Walking through the halls all you could think of was how he called you “my girl”. If you truly were his why did he barely let anyone know? Why didn’t he show you off around his friends but was completely fine with touching you behind closed doors. Why didn’t he mention going to the party, one that he’d told Harry that you’d both attend?

How had you now ended up at that same party looking for you’re boyfriend. You decided to go to the party and finally explain to Fred you’re feelings and actions. You prepared yourself for the worst.

Even after preparing yourself-you got scared. As soon as you got to the part you started taking drinks swearing it was for “courage”.In reality at this point in the night you were trying not to see him

The common room was loud, lights and people everywhere. Fred? Nowhere to be found. He really never was going to tell you about the party. So imagine his surprise to see you

“Love?” He asked from behind you, you could smell the alcohol on his breath. Or was it yours? You were unaware at this point.

“Im so happy your here! Come say hi to everyone” he exclaimed. His face fell once he saw tears run down your cheeks.

“You don’t want me Fred. You don’t want me around your friends, so.. I don’t want you around me at all.” You whispered

Fred looked confused. Had he heard you? You didn’t stick around long enough to find out before bolting out of the common room.

———————————————————————

You woke up in Fred’s bed, how? Once you opened your eyes and realized where you were you freaked out, but the pounding in your head was enough to make you stay in his bed. He was in the shower, you had enough time to run out but you decided now or never.

He walked out of his bathroom with only a towel around his waist. “G’morning love, you doing alright?” You just smiled at him as he got dressed and then sat beside you.

“So, do you wanna talk about last night?” You made eye contact with him and nodded slowly. “Fred yesterday was not the way I wanted things to go but I do believe I meant what I said.” He looked confused “so you don’t want me around you?” Just the thought brought tears to your eyes.

“Fred I may just be dramatic but I tried to ignore it I really did, I tried to ignore the way you wouldn’t hold me around your friends, the way you never invited me around them, God I tried to ignore Sophia and how you act with her but I just can’t!” You sobbed

“Sophia? The way I act with Sophia? Love please explain I’m begging to understand you take deep breaths okay?” He said softly. That was enough to make you hide your hand in your face as you cried. “Hey, hey no let me see your pretty face, take your time. Deep breaths my love”

“Fred you know how I’ve been treated in the past , the whole physical affection thing. But you never touch me around your friends. I’m sure you don’t mean to do it to hurt me but holding me, showing me off or something would be nice.” You confessed while looking at the bed sheets, looking up to see him with a soft smile on his face.

“I love holding you alone as much as I love holding you in front of others. I have no problem holding you in front of my friends I just fought you didn’t want it! I know how you’ve been treated and I would never want to show you off like an object. Then I thought you would feel obligated for me to touch you so I’d retract. From now on I promise to always hold you in front of my friends, anyone, fuck even the entire world okay? I just need you.” He declared

“All I need is you.” He reassured

“Then what about Sophia?” You asked with your insecurities taking the best of you.

“What about her?” He asked confused

“You’ve been spending a lot of time with her lately, talking to her and acknowledging her more in public than me.” You said with a frown on your face

“You even left your dorm with me in it the other day to go to her!” You exclaimed

“Your right I have been doing those things, if I can be mean with you for one sec darling she’s been annoying me. I don’t really enjoy any other girls company besides yours. So the other day I left our dorm early” he corrected “ so I could tell her to fuck off, just more politely of course”

You laughed, your tears had stopped, Fred always knew how to do that. How to make you feel better.

“So am I still yours pretty girl?” You laughed and kissed him in response

———————————————————————Today you were supposed to go to hogesmade with Fres friends. You walked in together, hand in hand. He made sure everyone said hello to you and most importantly. His hand was on you at all times.

[nakylvr]

going to nyc for new years to watch the ball drop and kissing sophia when it hits 12🙈

well yes!

— NEW YEARS KISS ⚓️

warnings/tags: fluff, established relationship, gn!reader, non-idol!au, slightly suggestive jokes

when sophia told you that she had plans for new years with you, but didn't specify specifically what, you were a little anxious. she had a tendency to hide certain things from you when holidays or your birthday was approaching, not wanting to ruin the surprise of your face when you realized what was happening.

like now, standing in the airport, beside your girlfriend as she checks the bags, looking like a deer in headlights. it was loud, that was the first thing you noticed. there was a lot of people was the second thing you noticed, the whole airport bustling with people rushing to get to their destinations or catch flights.

you were never one to enjoy flying. every time it felt like you would throw up as soon as you stepped off, and to fly for a long period of time only made that more difficult. but, when sophia told you that you would be going to new york for the new years, you told yourself that you could do it.

now, you were starting to panic. a little.

"yn? honey?"

you were broken out of your thoughts when you hear sophia's voice, looking down at her. "huh?"

"are you okay?" she looks at you with a subtle worried expression.

"yeah," you nod slowly, swallowing the lump in your throat. "i don't know how you do this from home to l.a."

"it will be better once we're on the plane, i promise," she says, grabbing your hand and pecking your lips. "our bags are checked so all we have to do now is get on the plane and then we'll be there, okay?"

"okay," you nod again, a little smile on your face.

"c'mon," sophia kisses you again before starting to pull you along with her through the mass of people.

opening the door to the hotel room, you couldn't believe how happy you were to see a room that wasn't yours. after a long 8 hours of flying, you were exhausted. sophia was doing a lot better than you were, seeing as she'd been on much longer flights. but you felt like you were going to pass out as soon as you hit the bed.

dragging your bags into the room, you set them down on the couch and rub your hands over your face, groaning quietly.

"how do you do this?" you grumble out.

"it takes a lot," sophia answers, putting her bag down and wrapping her arms around you from behind, resting her chin on your shoulder. "but at least you can sleep in tomorrow. plus, i heard we have some really good room service."

"oh?" you say, turning your head a bit to look at her. "is it as good as what you cook?"

sophia's face flushes red at your words, shaking her head and giggling softly. "honey, i am far from a professional."

"but everything you make is amazing," you smile at her. "you could totally open your own bakery or something, y'know?"

"maybe," she smiles back at you. "but for now, let's get changed and go to sleep, it's nearly midnight."

"no fun," you grumble, turning around and wrapping your arms around her waist. "i was hoping we could have some fun before the new year." your hands move under her hoodie she was wearing, fingers grazing against her skin.

"very funny," sophia playfully rolls her eyes. "maybe tomorrow night."

"so you're saying there's a chance?" you say with a teasing smile on your face.

"whatever you say, dear." sophia pats your shoulder.

the next (late) morning, you were sitting on the bed looking at your phone trying to find things to do before going to times square later that night and see the ball drop, but that you didn't know yet. hearing the bathroom door open, your eyes flicker from your phone to sophia, a smile instantly rising on your face.

"how do you manage to look great no matter how freezing cold it is outside?" you say, putting your phone down as she walks towards you.

"it's not that cold outside, don't be a baby," she replies, stopping in front of you and resting her hands on your shoulders. "where's that beanie i got you? you should wear it tonight."

"somewhere in my bag," you answer, wrapping your arms around her waist and pulling her closer to you. "are you gonna tell me what you planned for today or are you going to leave me in the dark like every other vacation?"

"well," sophia starts, her fingers fiddling with the material of your shirt. "i was thinking we could walk around, get something to eat, come back, and then go to times square to watch the ball drop." she smiles down at you.

"the ball drop?" you raise an eyebrow at the filipina. "like, the ball drop?" the excitement is heard in your voice as you question her, your eyes bright as you look at her.

"mhm," she hums, her smile growing bigger at your response. "you've made me watch it two years in a row, so i think it's time you actually get to see it in person."

your hand grabs hers, tugging gently which makes her sit down on your lap, your other arm still around her. "you're so amazing, you know that?" you say softly. "i love you so much."

"i love you more." her hand cups your cheek.

"impossible," you respond, leaning in and closing the gap between you two.

by roughly nine p.m. you two got to times square where everyone was at the same time. it was difficult to get around the area, but when you spotted a bar on a not so busy side of the crowd, you felt better and less anxious once you had a couple of drinks in you.

now you stood in the middle of times square, some stupid little hat on your head that said 2025 on it, with your arm slouched over sophia's shoulders not really paying attention to the performances happening on the stage in the center.

"what time is it?" you ask the filipina, leaning down a bit.

sophia looks at the watch on her wrist before looking at you. "eleven forty-five," she says. "why? don't tell me you're gonna pass out already."

"i was just asking," you reply, shrugging your shoulders and leaning closer to her. "maybe so i have an estimate on when i'll get you back to the hotel." you press a little kiss on her neck.

"if you can keep your hands to yourself you might have a chance," she responds, but tilts her head to the side a little.

a quiet chuckle escapes your lips as you pull away to look down at her, a fond smile on your face as the lights around you shine across her face. it's as if there's no one else around you, like it's just you two as you peer at her. "thank you, for doing this," you say quietly, your voice barely able to be heard over the commotion around you. "i'm so happy to do these things with you."

sophia's eyes soften at your words, looking up at you with pure love and adoration as her hand reaches up and cups your cheek. "of course, my love. i wouldn't want to do it with anyone else."

"i love you so much," you murmur.

"i love you too," she smiles at you.

the countdown then started, and everyone in the area started shouting the numbers as they counted down the minutes. you found yourself counting down as well, failing to notice sophia's gaze on you as the lights flickered in your big eyes from how excited you were. her arms wrap around you into a hug, and when you look down and smile at her, it's like the whole world stopped.

you cupped her face in your hands, smiling down at her as the chanting fades out behind you. you can briefly hear the counting down from ten, to nine, to eight.

"i'm gonna marry you one day miss laforteza," you say, your thumb drawing circles on her cheek.

"you better," sophia whispers.

"i will."

just as the countdown hits zero, and the clock turns to midnight, and the giant ball hits the bottom of the podium, you lean in and kiss the girl of your dreams. the fireworks erupting around you in the city, the cheers from everyone exclaiming 'happy new year!', the sound of clapping all around you, none of it seemed to matter as much as how nice it felt to have sophia's lips on yours. it was far from your first kiss, but it felt just like the first time.

pulling away, you smile down at the filipina. "happy new year, baby."

"happy new year." she smiles back at you.

[cutieeva]

Oh shit ! I truly thought that (Y/N) has gone mad but it wasn't that way when I read the second episode !! 😔😔 I am sad for girly yet excited to read the next that's why please please please update fast 😘😘 (Also I love your writing, officially in love with you)

Bullied

Female Reader

Warnings : Bullying. Violence.

⌜ Thank you dearie for loving my art of writing, it never fails to makes me happy and here an belated update. ⌟

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒

Loving someone itself is an act of selfish so why is leaving the relationship seen so heinous ? Sometimes one's own sake of happiness is needed more than another's if fallen out of love. The sooner (Y/N) understand the better.

"What is going on in that table ?"

"Is the girl okay ?"

"Why is she making a big deal about all ?"

"He is such a lovely boy yet she is so nasty accusing him for cheating ?"

"If I had a boyfriend like that I would die from happiness".

"He should break up with her".

"She seem toxic".

"(Y/N) ! Stop it and get up". Sophia's irritated voice reach her ears and (Y/N) couldn't help but feel all is jumbled. All is unclear. All is numb because does her suffering doesn't matter ? Yes, perhaps she is overreacting yet is it her fault when he was the one to lie about everything ?

Slowly her (E/C) eyes met Sophia's and other accountances she calls friends and her heart dropped.

Her pale face in snarl.

Other's cheeks red from thoroughly shame.

Another can't even share a glance at her.

The beautiful woman standing in awkward.

The guests are whispering, increasingly harsh, scary and the workers worried.

And lastly Cameron, stood looking hurt. In pain than she was and all her beliefs, reality begin distorting.

Is she a nuisance ?

Is she really overreacting over everything like others ?

Is she the one in wrong for not trusting him ?

Is being dated on bet and built an relationship on lies is alright as long as the faulty party apologize ?

If once the trust she believes was broken in the worst way, then is she the one to create drama ?

Are lies not serious ?

Do lies have little meaning ? Is playing with someone else's feeling is a small price for a relationship she didn't even realize ?

Is she overreacting ? "Am I overreacting ?" Despite people surround her, her own few people even the boyfriend she loved once yet why she suddenly feels so alone ? Lonely ? And hopeless ?

Daze with piling doubts and thousand pairs of eyes watching her, her hand yanked by Cameron. "I am sorry, I apologize for the scene". Smiling like a good man he hold her shoulder and walk her limp body to his car he drove.

In the entirety none dare break the ice in air while Cameron was in disappointment, (Y/N) in utter confusion. All she discover is that she has fall out of love, maybe from the moment he said 'I am now' in front of the men along losing herself. For the fear to let go she latched onto him, gifting him the second chance only to realize her suspicious, love turn into anger and anger form an hatred. An hatred she didn't knew. An hatred so deep she was unable to see his goodness anymore only searching faults.

Her entire being of happy, blunt, forgiving shaped into such a stranger her own eyes have harder to see from the clear fog. She shaped into a vicious, incredulous person. A person she never even dreamed to become.

"Get off". Cameron's that soft, smooth voice rip her from the creeping shadows of words inside her mind and her haze gaze glance to find herself house. His home they decide to turn into their love nest.

Sliding down from the car, she walked towards the lift without waiting for him to follow and press the cold metal button. Her eyes dried from the tears that caught her reflection in the shining metal and she couldn't help find the dark circles weight heavy under her eyes, rim edges red and hair— a mess with barely appropriate clothes on. She looks nothing alike the neat, fresh (Y/N).

She looks wasted, used and worn off self— the door of the lifts snap her out again, she blink twice before stepping in properly. Their floor came faster than she expect and the moment the doorknob twist open. She close her eyes ready to be face with angry lashing, words like knives twisting her guts yet none came.

Rather he remove his coat, wash his hands and smile. "What shall we eat then ?"

She merely stare at him.

He continue to smile. The smile she doesn't find warming, sweet.

"Maybe something different. Like Pollo al Ajillo, in English known as Garlic Chicken ? Hmm ?" A single word didn't slip her lips, standing at her roots.

And without her reply he decided. She watched him not moving her an inch cooking, smiling like a normal couple. Minutes bled into hours and little to no care he serve the food, finally ripping her from her roots and sat her beside him.

Stomach churn in no hunger and eyes burden to open, she look at him. "Let's take a break". The metal spoon his fingers held pause, his smile creased.

"I-I need spac—".

"You don't". He cut off smoothly. His smile wider to it's length than before and the spoon between his fingers lay on the wooden table. "I know what happen today was a little overboard but do not worry. It was my fault after all and it's alright. I forgive you". Soft his eyes he push the plate of food to her, an gesture to eat.

However she couldn't. Her eyes couldn't rip from the oblivious face, acting all normal, when nothing is. Nothing is normal. Their relationship is falling apart, their love draft from one another and trust long out of the picture.

He so easily utter his denial. She doesn't need space, perhaps she doesn't but wouldn't he at least ask the reason behind ? Even if it's known still ask and not play the game of pretend. It's exhausting because they are a real couple not actors in a play.

"Would you not ask me why ?" Her voice in end crack.

"Would it make a difference ?"

"Yes, a lot". Honestly she shares, it will help her a lot to understand the real Cameron, the one who she fell for or the one she saw when the illusion shatter.

He turn his head to her. "We are doing alright. It will be fine. Look am I not improving myself ?" No, she only sees him now complying to her wishes easily.

"I need space". She look away, his face reminding her of those cherish days. "We both need space". She finished, adamant on seperating even if it's for a moment she wants to breath, the tightness on her chest is too much and the alarming mistrust.

Once a pot is broken, even with the finest potter's hands can't fix the remained lines of past.

"Okay". To her surprise he agreed "I see, you need time to cool your head". With that he stood up and went to their shared bedroom leaving her and the cold food behind.

Her finger hold the spoon to take a bite of the dish however few inches from her lips she pause. Staring at the food and can't help but cry of unable to eat at the end. Merely thinking how without waiting for her choice, he cooked the food, only giving an illusion of choices.

☾

When one announce their break up. People's first reaction is : 

"Did he cheat ?"

"Did you cheat ?"

"Is he abusive ?"

"Manipulative ?"

"Controlling ?"

"A bet". (Y/N) would say. "I was a bet he was dared to date and in process he fell for me but he always treated not less than a princess and after I found out he begged, confessed his love. From then he always is perfect. Even ignoring my overreaction". All the voices stopped altogether. The harsh, doubtful all pause because in this picture nothing is wrong apart from the fact he was a liar, who lied and fixed himself for better. He really did but can it patch the wounds of her shattered faith in him ?

People always say second chance can change lives, do wonders and in her she saw. She can see why they give second chances yet she can't bring herself to love anymore. She is angry, stuck on the phrase where all laughed at her like a clown, whispering, betting for how long would she last.

Was she a human or a puppet ? He never defended her, he never share his thoughts with her. She doesn't even know him anymore. She really really is lost.

Even walking towards the metal gates of university seem heavy, scary. Her mind already twisted her vision of people laughing, hating her. Being the center of attention she so wants to be away from. Her (E/C) eyes glance around walking to her class recalling not to stumble upon them or him. She is enough exhausted. She doesn't need more.

BANG! She flinched, her nerves jolting.

BANG! Her eyelids snapped shut, shielding herself from the brutality.

BANG! The sound of flesh colliding with metal reverberated through her ears, leaving a buzzing ache. A human body, crumpling like a rag doll.

"Poor him. He should quit or complain". Not so subtle whispers like flicker of fire circle around, reaching her ears.

"Shouldn't he die at this rate ?" Cruel.

"What a bore. Really ? Everyday ? Isn't it such a nuisance—". Cruel. So, so cruel. Just because a person can't help himself doesn't give these people the chance to pity him. To paint him— the victim the cause of his own suffering. His silence was twisted into consent, his helplessness fuel for their merciless ridicule.

Cruel. Cruel. Cruel. Cruel. Laughter like devilish cackles echoed, faces feigning sympathy, eyes gleaming with fox-like innocence. Cowardly souls, masking their true nature.

She, too, wore a mask, hypocrisy veiling her own darkness.

That's why in a blink of an eye. Her once neat clean palm painted in crimson, stretch of iron reeking the air, painful grunts and horried screams and distorted yells is making no sense to her. She can't understand the aching in her palm, the cries of the familiar boy's underneath her, chanting of word fight and her own tears rolling down.

"Fight. Fight. Fright. Fright". The crowd roar fueling her more and more and more. Why are they encouraging ? Yet why does it feel like she is revelling in it ?

"(Y/N) ! Stop beating Adrian". Oh. Her palms ache because she is punching his face, painted in crimson because it's his blood, cries belong to Adrian who lay beneath her helpless like that boy he was seconds ago using as a ragdoll.

How wonderful.

She can't stop. She punch and punch and punch and punch uttering only three words. "I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry". Not to the bully— no never to Adrian. Never to the boy who is violent to innocent. It's to the victim, to the unknown jester of everyone's joke. For Everyone's play. For the system that enable Adrian's cruelty into fun.

She is sorry for blind. She is sorry for foolish. She is sorry for being coward. She is sorry for ignoring him. She is sorry for wearing mask of pretense herself. She is sorry for falling into the lies of Cameron. She is sorry for saying yes to his proposal. She is sorry for overreacting. She is sorry for suspecting. She is sorry for losing trust. She is sorry for not being happy with a perfect boyfriend.

She is sorry for fell in love.

She is sorry for.....everything.

To herself.

To everything.

☾

Dry tears stain her (S/C) cheeks as in empty space she stare, leaning on the chair in front of director's office. The woman's words faded into background noise, inaudible over the cacophony of her thoughts.

Her mind replayed the chaos: the frantic struggle, the flash of anger, the blur of fists. She couldn't recall who intervened, pulling her back from the brink of destruction. By then, he had already crumpled, unconscious. Her tangled hair bore witness to the scuffle, matted from the grasping hands of his minions, few blood dotted her blue jeans, a crimson constellation from her own nose. Her torn t-shirt hung askew, shoulder exposed while he— lay worse. Broken. Lifeless almost.

Yet no remorse stirred in her stomach, surprisingly. Instead, a lingering sense of justification lingered, eclipsed only by the anguish she felt for the victim. The one she had been compelled to defend, driven by a primal urge to protect she only dreamed.

"(Y/N), can you hear me?" The director's voice cut through the tension. "Do you comprehend the gravity of your situation? You're at risk of expelled !" An humorless laugh almost slip from (Y/N).

Expelled for what ? Punching a deserving scum to death while he punch an innocent boy to death when his skin wasn't even healed from the stitches of wounds Adrian left on him ?

(E/C) eyes stare at the female director who's blue glossy eyes stare at (Y/N) like she was a demon of chao when in her view, the real corrupt could be the adult, this lady who blind these physical, emotion abuse. Pain so small like (Y/N)'s bet and huge imprinting like that boy's scars for eternal to remember. Become something that etched in their memories, their experiences, though grave and painful, would be reduced to cautionary stories, diluted by time and retelling. The true weight of their suffering would remain unspoken, lost amidst the faint whispers of a forgotten past.

The tense standoff ended when the director's blue eyes darted past (Y/N), as if catching something She sighed audibly, her expression softening. "Get out. Reflect on your actions and the reasons for your two-week suspension. Expulsion is off the table." She mused confusing (Y/N)'s daze self a little and when she stood up, walking out of the room.

She understand meeting his concern eyes. Her boyfriend must have used his power.

Cameron swallowed under her intense gaze, part his lips to say when she continue to walk, aware of the pain in her body suddenly.

Alone in the empty hallway, she felt a fleeting sense of peace, liberated from the weight of others' judgments. Her footsteps echoed off the walls as she moved, ghost-like. Her eyes drifted to the scattered belongings on the floor, remnants of the chaos. She bent to gather them, her movements slow and deliberate.

A sudden twinge of pain shot through her knee as she crouched. (Y/N) winced, noticing the cut, a crimson gash on her pale skin. She gingerly touched the wound, her fingers tracing the tender edge. This time she felt like crying with clarity, like she knew what she was crying for along a need. Tears swell within her (E/C) eyes waiting to fall.

"It will hurt more if you cry". Calmly she gaze beside her. To the lockers where the boy slumped, his face still smeared with blood. The indifference surrounding him was palpable, as if no one cared about his suffering. (Y/N) press her lips, pulling a white handkerchief to hand him.

He accepted the handkerchief, his fingers brushing against hers. With gentle movements, he wiped the blood from his face, revealing a canvas of bruises and wounds beneath. For the first time, (Y/N) saw his true complexion – pale, with a hint of rosy undertones. The vibrant hues of his injuries – purple, blue, and crimson – stood in stark contrast to his delicate skin.

As the blood was wiped away, his features emerged, and (Y/N) noticed the sharp angles of his cheekbones, the gentle curve of his nose, and the softness of his lips.

"I am sorry". It fell out before she could revise or add.

"Don't be". He shake his head. "Everyone's coward. Even me". (Y/N) desire to protest of his own situation.

"I am talking about you". She blink. "You are Cameron's girlfriend". He utter like a fact. "All business major knew about a bet on a girl. They just didn't knew who until one of Cameron's friend told about your relationship making everyone realize who she is but wasn't sure". Her breath hitched. So they did. All did.

"I too, because I am from business major. Yet I was a coward to not say the truth or at least..." He tailed off. "Warn you". He finished heavy silence weight the air. (Y/N) inhale, not finding words to explain the mess of feelings she is having. Indeed both were jester of everyone's joke.

As she scoffed, her gaze trailed his movements, expecting him to walk away. But instead, he swooped down, his lithe frame folding into a crouch beside her. His amber eyes locked onto her knee, the cut a tiny, crimson gash.

Without a word, he reached out, his fingertips grazing her skin as he applied a band-aid. A shiver danced up her spine at the gentle touch.

"You know you're also being bullied?" His voice was low, concerned. Her eyes lift to his focused ones on her cut, whispering a "No".

"Bullying is not only physical you know. It can be emotional too. And what is happening to you is bullying too. An emotional one where he took advantage of your trust, then play with your feelings, manipulate you into staying in the relationship when you clearly in daze of the complexity and not in right state. If he truly cared about you, wouldn't he have asked how you felt or given you the space to think? Wouldn't he have prioritized your well-being over his own desires? But instead, he rushed you into this relationship, disregarding your boundaries and emotions". His words felt like sting of bees she couldn't process as the image of Cameron's pained face when she accused of him cheating in front of others.

His pure happiness when he pull the chair for her in front of her parents.

His patience when she was crying so suddenly and at the restaurant.

Her colleagues Sofia and others disturbed faces and harsh whispers.

"No. No. He is not perfect, yes. He is not good entirely. He is a liar but he improved. It is I who has problem. I fall out of love, mistrust him and..." Her throat felt dry to speak and she swallowed having difficulty seeing. The problem lies in her. She is the odd, fallen one.

The boy finally gaze his amber eyes and said. "If Cameron really is a good person. Not perfect, good. Then why in the first place are you lashing out and angrily pushing your anger on Adrian ? And in a mess mindset ?" It left (Y/N) shunned. Because truly did she blames Cameron for her misery. Hates him for his mockery of perfection. However never did she blame him for his entanglement to this relationship based on lies for her was truth.

"Let's assume Cameron is a good person who genuinely cares for you and loves you deeply, but isn't able to let you go. However, if being with him no longer brings you happiness— not because of his flaws, but because your feelings have changed and you're staying solely out of guilt or obligation, don't you think it's time to reevaluate? For your own sake, shouldn't you prioritize your happiness even if it's selfishness ?"

As he stood, dusting off his pants, (Y/N) lifted her gaze to meet his. His eyes held a gentle intensity. "After all, loving someone is, in itself, a selfish act," he added, his voice low and thoughtful.

"I am saying this because you came out of your cowardness for me and I for you". the boy said, wincing as he gingerly touched his jaw. "I should get to the nurse," he added, his voice laced with discomfort.

She swiftly stood up, her hand brushing against his arm with an awkward yet tender touch. "Let me help."

"No, it's okay..." He trailed off, his mind reeling as a wave of dizziness washed over him. His legs weakened, and he swayed precariously, almost toppling over.

(Y/N)'s eyes widened in alarm as she swiftly grasped his arms, her grip tight.

𝑻𝒐 𝑩𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒏𝒖𝒆𝒅

☾ ────────

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Okay, I've Read Worm: A Retrospective Part 5: What Was I Fucking Surprised By?

So, as you may remember, I got into Worm thoroughly spoiled by the wiki and Wormblr and r/parahumans and r/Wormfanfic and actual Worm fanfic. I knew pretty much all the basic details of all the plot twists. And yet, of course, there are things I didn't expect, things the fandom or the wiki mislead me about, etc. Things I was surprised by.

So let's talk about a few:

Taylor Hebert: As I've said, I kind of worried, before reading Worm, that I'd find Taylor insufferable. The sort of character that tries to be a hero and then convinces themselves to do all sorts of bad stuff while telling themselves they're still a hero/good person/etc is hard to write well without being really unpleasant to read/watc/etc. Self-righteousness in general is hard to enjoy for me. Taylor, honestly, stops thinking of herself as a good person partway through the post-Levi period, in most ways, and she never gets self-righteous about it. So Taylor was much more sufferable than I thought. Which is good, because I would have dropped Worm like a hot potato if she'd been insufferable as the main POV.

Eidolon & The Endbringers: (Sounds like a band name). The whole 'you needed Worthy opponents' thing, and the way people talked about Eidolon (seriously, this fandom as a whole is hugely unfair to the guy, istg) really gave me the impression of like, this vainglorious piece of shit guy who wants adulation and doesn't care how he gets it. And like... I don't get that impression from his Interlude at all? He doesn't seem to give two shits about fame, just about knowing what he did mattered. And he knew that well before the Endbringers. Obviously, he subconsciously created them, and then [High Priest] got all goddamn malicious in his compliance but he's not the vainglorious asshole who charges off to face Scion in single combat or w/e the way the fanfiction gave me that impression. Also, like, maybe it's just me, but I define 'Worthy Opponent' as 'something the person could have a reasonable chance of defeating in a solo fight'. So for me, a worthy opponent would be a rowdy 12 year old with maybe a white belt in karate. the Endbringers are not solo-able opponents for Eidolon. So absolutely not doing what he actually wanted. I really think the fandom is unfairly hard on Eidolon.

Interlude 15.x: Look, at the risk of starting discourse - I'm sorry. I've read 15.x Backwards and forwards and there is just Nothing pointing towards rape in the text, even looking for it as I was. I really expected I'd see some line, some implication, some fucking hint and there's just... absolutely nothing. The text of Worm as written, whatever Wildbow claims he meant and whatever he did mean, does not support a rape interpretation of events. And that sure as fuck surprised me.

Extinction 8.6: The way people - and even some fics - talked about the scene where Amy messes with Taylor post-Leviathan made it sound like Amy straight up ripped off Taylor's mask or something extreme like that, and then Taylor sees unmasked Sophia while trying to run and hide after being unmasked. What we got was Amy being a bit of a bitch, deliberately refusing to answer a question Taylor asked because she knew not answering would upset the girl (not cool), Amy's bedside manner being shit, and Taylor's own paranoia (and the godawful choice of the heroes to handcuff her to the bed) filling in the blanks. And this absolutely tepid-ass shit is pointed to by people as proof that 'Amy was a bitch the whole time'.

The Leviathan Fight: It was a lot shorter than I expected. I enjoyed reading it in ways I was worried I wouldn't.

Cauldron: Now, here's the thing. Characters that do bad things, knowing they're bad, but in pursuit of a greater good? That shit is my goddamn jam. I fucking love characters like that. They're my catnip! And I went into Worm sympathetic as FUCK to Cauldron. and I come out of Worm going 'Jesus Christ what a bunch of fucking idjits!' Their shoestring illuminati was run by a bunch of teenagers who never grew up and a college student who's a worse control freak than Taylor. Their incompetence appears to be the whole point (until Wildbow's WoGs turned everything into Cauldron social engineering and he went out of his way to make a big thing about how Cauldron was totes necessary for making things better. Man just cannot shut up). They try for decades to put some final fight against Scion together, and they fail epicly. No groundwork, no real success, and they turned to ACCORD for their post-apocalyptic plans. And apparently had no plan for a mass Case-53 breakout/attack. Which is... sure a choice. Dumping the Case-53s the way they did. The choice of which Case 53s to dump (Sveta sure was a choice of who to just... let out into the world. Like, not an issue with her personally, but you don't release that kind of uncontrollable murder tentacle out into the world, maybe? Just maybe?). I went into Worm thinking I'd be on Cauldron's side, at least a little, and I came out just... god no, you people are stupid.

Amy's Birdcage Arc: I really thought we'd see more of Amy's time in the birdcage, but 16.z really was all we got.

Alexandria's Death: I don't quite know what I did expect, but I didn't expect Alexandria's death to be so goddamn Darwin-award worthy. The woman died like the biggest of CHUMPs and that was much funnier than I expected.

The Drugs are Fantastic line: I knew it was being taken out of context, but it wasn't quite in the place I expected, I'll be honest. Not sure what I did expect.

Taylor's Weaver Arc/The Timeskip: I expected... I dunno. Less of an abrupt transition, I guess? I thought the timeskip would be like, a series of small scenes skipping ahead over two years between them? Instead, right in the middle of Arc 25, it just jumps ahead two years without ceremony. Did not expect that. At all.

Slaughterhouse Nine: I was not prepared for just how goddamn boring the Nine were. I don't think I read any spoilers about how Jack Slash being boring af was the point until I'd already started the S9 arc, but I especially didn't expect how pathetically bland as characters Manny the Kinless and Burnscar and Crawler and Sibby the Friendly Neighborhood Cannibal would be. Cherish managed to be interesting by being such a failure, and Bonebitch, to my eterntal frustration, managed to be funny, but the rest? Also, I thought Manton would die in the Bay, rather than be killed unceremoniously offscreen while in Boston.

The Butcher: For a character who appears in all of two chapters, the Butcher has a much larger presence in the fandom. But that is Worm for you, because groups like the Elite and the Fallen also show up more in the fics than their presence in the main story merits (Though the Fallen have more of a presence in Ward, even if I gather Ward kinda sorta retcons like half the details or at least presents irreconcilable visions of the organization)

Empire 88: They were way out of focus, compared to how much they appear in fics. But it is fun in fics to see Nazis get beat up all the time, so this is valid. But also, like, even their post-Levi remnants were weaksauce af. Someone in a server the other day said that taking out Marquis took out an entire faction, and that Levi proved that taking out Kaiser (or Allfather before him) doesn't stop the Empire, gesturing to the Aryan's Chosen and the Pure as proof but like... lbr. Both groups were pretty damn pathetic in the post-Leviathan bay. Regardless, I expected to see more of the Nazis getting beat in Worm itself, and we really didn't. But this is one time where I don't care, because as I said, seeing Nazis get beaten up over and over again in the fanfic is fun.

Ward: I was worried reading and finishing Worm might make me want to read Ward. Thankfully, it did not. *whew*

Now, there are probably others, but nothing else as major. But there are also some things I just plain wasn't surprised by.

Amy Dallon: I went into Worm expecting her to be my blorbo, and that didn't change. She's definitely my character type. I feel the same about her storyline in Worm as I did going into it.

Tattlebitch: I expcted to hate her, and I stayed hating her. Lisa sucks. Like, she has her redeeming moments and features, but overall, I still hate Lisa.

Carol Dallon: My Sympathy for Carol remains about as theoretical as it always was.

The PRT/Protectorate: I suspected the PRT/Protectorate was not as useless and incompetent and ACAB as a lot of fics painted it and... I was right.

My Ultimate Opinion: I went into Worm thinking it wasn't really for me, but that I'd probably find it well written and that many characters would be engaging. I figured it would have massive gaping plot holes and that I would never find it to be the 'amazeballs perfect wonderful' that some people seem to find it. And yeah, I was right about that too.

[cal-daisies-and-briars]

🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲🌲

114 for 🌲:

EDIT putting this under the cut for brief mention of SA

---

Those aren’t really Eddie’s can of worms to open. Otherwise, he shares everything else. What they are. Where it comes from. Their theories. The danger they’re in. All of it. 

Sophia sits and listens. She sort of folds in on herself, clearly uncomfortable. Buck understands. It must be rather disconcerting to hear this about your family, about something that might be living in your genes. She tears up at one point, looking at the floor. 

“Why did neither of you come to me for help?” She demands. “I mean, seriously. Adriana, you scared the shit out of us. And, Eddie, what was your plan? Hide forever? Never see me again?”

“You don’t understand,” Adriana grumbles. 

“No, clearly I don’t!” Sophia agrees angrily. “I mean, was no one even going to warn me? What if it happened to me! Aren’t we stronger together?”

“I think it’s part of it,” Buck interrupts. 

Everyone turns to look at him. He hasn’t piped up once since Eddie started. But he feels it is necessary now. To defend Eddie, if not also Adriana. 

“What do you mean?” Sophia asks.

Buck sighs. “I think it… It’s drawing on insecurity right? On panic and fear?” 

Adriana and Eddie nod mutely. 

“Right, okay, so I don’t think they thought they could,” Buck says. “Eddie wouldn’t have told me if I didn’t find him after.”

“It’s true,” Eddie mumbles. “I thought I should be alone and just… Rot. I don’t know.”

Sophia sighs. She drops her face into her hands for a moment, clearly overwhelmed.

“This is a lot,” she groans. “I’m sorry, I’m not… I should be handling… It’s just a lot.”

“It’s not even everything,” Adriana admits. “Eddie’s protecting me.”

“What?” Sophia demands. “What else? What else could there possibly be?”

Adriana blushes. “Uh… So… So I killed some people.”

Sophia makes a choked noise. “What?” 

Adriana takes a deep breath and explains herself. It’s the first time Buck is hearing it properly, too. He’d run with Eddie’s theory. Trusted him. Then, when he saw Adriana shove Eddie into a lake, he’d kind of developed a less than favorable opinion of her. Maybe the killing wasn’t totally out of her control, if this is how she is. Then she explains. And Buck realizes Eddie was on the money. 

She talks about fleeing to a familiar park where she used to camp, knowing it was a place she could navigate and survive, all while avoiding people. All while being alone. She talks about meeting people anyway. Panicking, thinking that they’d seen her. Discovering the hypnosis her panic brought. 

“A lot of times,” Adriana explains, “it was nice. People were nice. I helped them if they were lost. Or couldn’t build a fire. I felt less lonely. But then… Then sometimes I would run into men who just wanted. And that… Well, sometimes I wanted it, too. But lots of times I didn’t. And… Some of them.”

“You don’t have to go into detail,” Eddie tells her. “It’s okay.”

She nods, clears her throat.

“Uh, anyway. Mostly it was to keep them off of me. Other times, it was… If we went further and they saw… Uh, when they’d see me.”

“See you?” Eddie asks. “The tail?”

“Tail,” Sophia repeats. “Not gonna get used to that.”

“No,” Adriana shakes her head.

And Buck realizes they’re in trouble. Eddie’s in trouble. 

“Not my tail,” she says. “My back.”

And Buck thinks he watches the soul leave Eddie’s body.

🌲

“Your back?” Eddie asks. “What about your back?”

Why would she bring up her back? She always had a seemingly normal back. So if it… If it’s changed… Then… 

Buck and Adriana exchange a nervous glance. 

“No, no, no,” Eddie says, hopping up off the bed and pointing at them. “What’s that? What’s that look?”

“What’s happening?” Sophia asks.

“Eddie, maybe we should talk, just you and I,” Buck says. “About this.”

“Come on, tell me,” Eddie demands.

“Listen to your annoying boyfriend,” Adriana whispers to him.

“Uh, excuse me?” Buck asks. “I’m the annoying one?”

“Mmm…” Adriana scrunches her mouth. “Yeah.”

“STOP!” Eddie begs. “What about your back, Adriana?”

“I can show you,” she says. “But Buck and Soph should leave the room. In case they try to kill me.”

Eddie looks at them.

“I’m your sister!” Sophia protests.

[bumblesimagines]

you haven't changed a bit.

do you ever think about what happened between us?

you look really good. i'm happy for you.

Donna Sheridan

you haven't changed a bit.

do you ever think about what happened between us?

you look really good. i'm happy for you.

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

"Where the hell did Laz put it? Jesus." You hissed quietly under your breath, back aching from the time you spent crouched or bent over searching for the damn bottle of whiskey Lazaros had hidden for his own personal use after his mother had forbidden him from drinking in front of customers, not that the bar got any, to begin with, given Lazaros... unique singing and Sophia's often stern nature. "Next time I see him, I'm gonna-"

"(Y/N)! I've been looking everywhere for you, boy! Come meet our new singer." Sophia's voice sliced through the air, demanding and attention-grabbing as always, prompting you to flinch and lift your head only to slam right into the underside of the counter.

"Ow, fuck-"

"Language, (Y/N)." Sophia tsked as you properly wiggled out from under the counter and straightened up, one hand rubbing the sore spot on the back of your head. You heaved a sigh and spun on your heel, eyes drifting over the rather empty bar while you made your way to the end of the counter and finally took in the new singer. 

And she seemed just as surprised as you.

"(Y/N)?" A breathless, surprised, and giddy laugh escaped her as her eyes widened into saucers, the jaw-dropped look almost comical. You stared back at her in silence, your mind trying to piece together how your spunky ex from college managed to find you on a semi-remote Greek island. Donna moved first, practically throwing herself over the counter to wrap her arms around your shoulders. "I can't believe you're here! In Kalokairi, of all places! I mean, I know you mentioned you wanted to travel around Greece but I never expected the first place I visited to be where you were staying!"

"You know each other?" Sophia questioned, one brow arched as she watched Donna wiggle off the counter and plant her feet firmly back on the floor. Donna nodded excitedly in return, brushing some of her loose curls away from her face and laughing again. 

"Yeah! We, uh.. dated briefly in college and then... (Y/N) graduated and..." Donna trailed off, her fingers toying with a ring on her hand. Her teeth dug down into her bottom lip, a dejected look briefly appearing in her eyes. "We broke off. Totally mutual." She assured Sophia with a forceful laugh and you winced when you caught the squinty-eyed look Sophia shot your way.

"Good, good. This means you'll get along, right? That's good." Sophia pursed her lips, the look in her eye telling you that you'd receive an earful later. Donna had a way of making people like her, making them care for her. It seemed her charms even wormed their way into the stern, always straight-faced Sophia. "Feel free to warm up on the stage. I'm sure my son is... somewhere around here." 

"Oh, Laz went to see if Korianna would take him back. Again. With the whole band." 

"Ugh, God," Sophia sighed heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose and heading toward the back doors to retrieve her son from his ex's porch again. You watched her go, withholding the urge to snort until she was out of earshot and out the door. Turning back to Donna, you licked your lips and cleared your throat.

"Uhm... I'm sure you know your way around here. The band will be back soon but, as Sophia said, you can warm up in the meantime. I'm sure you'll bring in customers without them, though." You offered her a smile and glanced over your shoulder, eyeing the selection of drinks you could offer her. "Do you want a beer? Wine? Ouzo?"

"Maybe later." Donna dismissed with a wave of her hand, her brown eyes slowly raking over you. "You... you look really good. I'm happy for you. I never thought I'd find you here. I thought you'd be putting that law degree into use in Greece, not working in a bar in the middle of the ocean. What- What do your parents think about it?"

"And you haven't changed a bit." It was comforting, at the very least, to know Donna hadn't changed her spunky, adventurous nature despite the time that'd passed. She still sported her typical vibrant, almost hippie-esque clothes and was still a singer. She'd always performed wherever they let her back when you'd been attending Oxford. England, Bristol, Reading. At any place in dire need of entertainment, Donna and the Dynamos would show up and show out. "What does the Ruby Sheridan think of her daughter coming to a small, basically unknown island to sing for the locals? This isn't Las Vegas, you know." 

"Well, she doesn't think anything of it 'cause she doesn't know. Like always, she didn't bother showing up to my graduation." Donna rolled her eyes, head shaking slightly, but you caught the hurt that appeared on her face. Despite every complaint, every huff and puff, and insult she threw at her mother, Donna never stopped caring or hoping for Ruby to turn a loving eye toward her. "I went to Paris, you know. Sang there a night or two but something was telling me to come here... to come to you, I guess."

"Maybe if I'd said Spain instead of Greece, that something would've pulled you to Ibiza or Tenerife."

"Maybe," Donna repeated softly, bracing her arms against the counter, her curls tumbling over her shoulders and framing her face perfectly. She traced random shapes into the wood with her fingertip, eyes jumping between looking at you and staring at the counter. "Do... do you ever think about what happened between us? Two years is a long time. Longest relationship I've ever been in."

You pursed your lips and sighed, leaning against the counter and crossing your arms over your chest, head tilting toward some of the fishermen stepping into the bar for their evening beer before they headed back out into the water. You acknowledged them with a nod and fixed up their usual drinks, feeling Donna's eyes locked on your every move. You returned once finished and finally looked her back in the eye. "Sometimes. I- I don't really know what to make of it, Donna. My parents always said it was some whirlwind thing that wouldn't last in 'the real world' and your friends always said it was fated. I was... confused, I guess. I told my family I needed a break and heard of this island when I was in Chania so I came here, found a job and a place to live." 

"I just wished you would've waited for me. You know I would've said yes to traveling, to anything, with you." 

"I'm sorry." You apologized softly, reaching out to curl your fingers around her arm gently. "I'm glad you're here, though. I think you'll really like this place."

[bucky-fricking-barnes]

Reckless

Title: Reckless

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: Y/N goes on a date with Steve Rogers and, unbeknownst to him, comes to the conclusion that he’s a very gentlemanly, albeit very boring, person. However, she decides to give him a second chance before she forms her final opinion of him.

A/N: Thank you for reading and supporting me! I hope you enjoy this quick little story about our lovely Steve. Dividers are by @firefly-graphics

“So how did the date go?”

You have your head propped up with a hand under your chin, so you simply sigh and try to keep your expression neutral as you search for the words. If this were a video or phone call, your friend wouldn’t be able to read you so easily, but you know that she’s caught on already when she winces across the table from you.

“That bad, huh?” Sophia asks.

Shaking your head, you sigh again and gesture vaguely with your free hand. “It was fine. It was good, I guess. I didn’t have a bad time. It’s just…”

“What? He wasn’t a creep, was he? I thought you said he was nice!” She leans in, almost knocking her drink over as she reaches across the table for one of your fries.

“No, no, he was nice. That’s just it, though. He was just nice.”

She chews, humming around the fries as you drop your arm and finish off the rest of your drink to occupy yourself. You don’t want to say anything too specific since you know his life is already so public, so you pick up your fork again and move some of the food around on your plate. At that, Sophia raises an eyebrow, then swallows and takes a sip.

“So… Are you gonna go out with him again?”

The waitress comes by to refill your water and you both offer her polite smiles and murmur thank yous, which gives you time to consider your answer. Steve had been a nice date—an almost perfect one, at that—but that was all you could say about your time with him. Sure, he checked all the boxes. On paper, he was the perfect match for you, but in reality, there was no spark, and you’d found him fairly boring. You feel a little bad calling Steve Rogers boring, of all people, but you can’t lie to yourself about it, no matter how great a person he is.

“I don’t know. Maybe? It feels rude to judge whether I like someone or not after only one date, since everyone’s nervous on first dates, and he was really nice…” You trail off, tilting your head from side to side with a grimace. “I don’t know.”

Sophia arranges her dishes so they’re easy to collect. “Well, you don’t have to make a decision right away. I mean, it’s not like he’s asked you out again so soon already, right?” Her smile fades into a gasp of disbelief when you don’t agree, and she smacks her hand on the table. “Already? Man, this guy moves fast!”

You nod. You’d been just as surprised as she is. You hadn’t known what to say when Steve had texted you this morning, so you’d just left the message on read. Thankfully, the dating app would never tell him that, but you still felt bad about not responding right away. Hopefully, he just thought you were busy at work.

“Already. He wants to go out again tonight,” you tell her. You wince again and fall back against the booth, crossing your arms. “Am I crazy if I tell him no?”

“No! Absolutely not, you can totally tell him no. You don’t have to go out with him if you don’t want to. You’re not obligated to go on a second date with him either,” Sophia reminds you.

Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you dig it out, glancing briefly at the screen to make sure it’s not important. And it’s not, really, because it’s a message from Steve telling you that he won’t be offended if you decline his offer to take you out for dinner. The twinge of guilt you felt earlier is more like a stab now.

“How can someone so boring be so sweet?” you whine, more rhetorically than anything, but Sophia jumps on the question.

“Is that Steve?” 

Nodding, you shove the phone back into your pocket. “Yeah. I don’t know, I’ll probably tell him yes. One more perfectly boring date can’t hurt..” You shake your head a little. “I’ll let you know what I decide to do.”

Your friend smiles and slides out of the booth, taking her bag with her. You do the same and wait for her to be ready before you walk beside her to the diner’s exit. After a quick hug, the two of you part ways and you head back to your apartment.

That night, there’s a knock at your door precisely at six o’clock, exactly when Steve said he’d be there. You sigh a little, expecting just as much, and you smooth out your dress. It’s one you haven’t worn in a long while, but you’re hoping it will inspire a reaction from him. At this point, any reaction besides the politest one would be a welcome change.

You open the door and smile when Steve meets your eyes. He smiles back, small and polite. He’s dressed well, in jeans and a white shirt, with a navy jacket over his shoulders. It’s infinitely more casual than the button-up and khakis he’d worn to your first date earlier this week, and it’s a good sign.

“Hi, Y/N. I hope I’m not early?” he asks, though you both know he’s not.

“No, it’s alright. I just need to get my shoes on. Come on in?” You step out of the doorway and gesture for him to enter. Once he’s inside, you shut the door and turn, only to find him inches closer than he was before. You inhale sharply and meet his gaze, then look down at the singular flower in his hand.

“For you,” he says. “I was afraid a bouquet would get damaged on the ride here.” He glances down at your dress and clears his throat. “I think it would probably be better if you changed into pants, too.”

You blink. “Pants? Why? What’s wrong with my dress?” This wasn’t the response or reaction you’d been hoping for. You step back a little, suddenly self-conscious about your choice in outfit.

Steve looks a bit sheepish as he hands you the flower and steps back to give you more space to breathe. “Yes. I rode my… bike.”

Raising your eyebrows, you glance over at your closed curtains. The window faces out into the street, where you know from experience most people park if they’re only staying for a short time.

“Your bike,” you repeat. He nods, and you carefully step around him to go look out the window. There is, in fact, a motorcycle parked in one of the spots. The light from the lamps reflects off the shining black and silver metal, and you let the curtain fall back into place with a quiet laugh. It seems that Steve Rogers could truly be the daredevil that some of the internet prospects him to be.

When you turn, Steve is still standing by your front door. The golden glow from the lamp by your couch casts a shadow behind him, making him seem taller and darker, but he watches you with such trepidation that he doesn’t seem as intimidating as you know he does to some. 

“It’s a Harley,” he tells you.

You smile a little. “Gotcha. I guess I’ll go change, then. Just give me a minute?”

Steve nods and you hurry to your room to change into a different outfit. In a moment of panic, you drop the flower into a half-finished glass of water on your nightstand. You don’t want to make Steve stand awkwardly in your living room any longer than you have to. 

With very little time to spare, you quickly change into jeans and one of your favorite tops, then head back into the living room. Steve has moved to look at your shelves, inspecting your photos, books, and knick-knacks in silence. He’s got his hands in his pockets and you watch for a second as he stands so relaxed in a foreign space.

“I’m ready if you are,” you finally say, stepping further into the room.

He turns and nods, then glances back at one of the photos. “Where was this taken?”

Frowning, you move closer so you can see, and then you smile a little. “That was back in college, at some restaurant near campus. It was this little local place that my friends and I used to go to. I think that was after one of their trivia nights.”

“You like trivia?” he asks, and you shrug.

“I’m not very great at it. Probably not as good as you—you’ve had a lot more time to study up.” Inwardly, you cringe. Steve probably doesn’t like to be reminded of his past.

There’s a beat where you and Steve stare at each other, and then he smiles at you. “That’s what Clint keeps telling me. He’s been trying to convince me to join his team. Maybe I’ll take him up on it the next time he offers.”

“That sounds like it would be fun,” you reply, nodding.

“Are you ready to go?”

You nod again and grab your things, sticking your phone into your pocket before following him out. He opens the door for you and pauses so you can check that it’s locked once you’re in the hallway, and then you let him lead you down to the motorcycle parked out front.

It’s even bigger than you’d thought. You hesitate at the curb, and Steve smiles encouragingly when he holds out the helmet he’s clearly brought for you.

“I promise to drive safely,” he says.

“Do you not normally?”

He ducks his head at that, smiling a little more. “Some of my friends tend to say I’m a little reckless.”

“Reckless?” you scoff. “I wouldn’t have pinned you as someone who’s reckless after the other night. I figured you’d be the exact opposite.”

You take the helmet and carefully fit it onto your head, then drop your hands when Steve steps closer to check that it’s secure. He buckles the strap underneath your chin.

“Well, I’m not great at first impressions. I was nervous. I don’t spend a lot of time eating dinner with pretty girls.”

Cheeks warm at the compliment, you laugh and follow him over to the bike. He climbs on first. You straddle the bike behind him once he’s holding it straight, then carefully slip your arms around his waist.

“Is this okay?” you ask.

“It’s great. You’re doing great, Y/N. Make sure you hold on tight, okay?”

“Can I ask where we’re going?”

He glances over his shoulder as he starts the bike. “Brooklyn!”

The engine is too loud for you to ask any more questions, so you simply tighten your grip around his (very firm) waist and tuck your head against his shoulder as he backs the bike out of the spot and then onto the street. There’s little traffic and not a single red light, but as he maneuvers you to wherever in Brooklyn you’re headed, he still swerves around and between the cars and trucks. It’s exhilarating, and a little wild, and by the time you arrive, your heart is pumping and you’re smiling from ear to ear. Once he’s parked, Steve looks back over his shoulder at you, then laughs as you detach yourself from him.

“That was fun!” you tell him as you carefully climb off. Your legs are a little unsteady, and he quickly holds out a hand to help you regain your balance.

“Good, I’m glad. We have to walk a little from here, is that okay?” Steve asks. He climbs off the bike, but you don’t fail to notice that he doesn’t release you from his grip. Not that you mind. His hair is ruffled from the wind, and though you’re sure that yours is too, you can’t bring yourself to fix it. You’re not so worried about being so perfect when he’s relaxed like this, unlike last time.

“That’s fine, yeah. Where exactly are we going? Besides Brooklyn, that is.”

You and Steve start walking, with him on the outside. He keeps hold of your hand as he explains, “It’s an old diner. It’s not one that I grew up going to, but it’s authentic enough that it feels like it.” He pauses and glances over at you. “I know it’s kinda cheesy to go to a retro diner for a date, but—”

“I love it,” you interrupt before he can say anything otherwise. “It sounds like fun. Do they have a jukebox? I don’t think I’ve used one of those in forever!”

Your hands swing between you slightly as you walk, and Steve glances over, smiling. “If they don’t, I’ll keep that in mind for our next date. If you want to go out again, that is,” he quickly adds, the smile faltering.

Unabashed, you squeeze his hand with a grin. “So far, so good, Steve.”

The rest of the walk to the dinner is filled with conversation, and though you still talk at the table, you realize that he’s more comfortable talking when he’s moving. His hands are constantly fidgeting, as if he has too much energy for his body, and when you’re finally done eating and the bill has been paid, you glance out the diner’s windows.

“Is there a place we can go for a walk around here? It’s nice out, and I don’t think I’m ready to go home yet,” you say.

Steve seems a little surprised, but pleased, and he nods as he slides out of the booth. You do the same, waving at the employees behind the long painted counter as you leave.

“There’s a park about a block that way,” Steve says. He points further down the street. “It’s got a trail that goes around it. I’ve run there a few times.”

“Wanna race?” you ask, grinning. You’re full from the meal, but you’ve been wondering just how fast and strong he really is since you first started talking. He certainly eats like an athlete, and you’ve seen pictures and videos of some of the things he’s done. You just want to know what it’s like when he uses his abilities for fun instead of work.

“Really?”

You take off without another word. Behind you, Steve laughs. Your shoes aren’t made for running, and neither is the rest of your outfit, but you give it your best effort. It’s not a surprise when Steve passes you only seconds later. His figure quickly becomes miniature, but you see him stop at the corner to wait for you before crossing the street.

“You weren’t even going full speed, were you?” you pant once you reach the park. He’s grinning wide in the light from the lamps, standing tall while you’re bent over with your hands on your knees. “And you stopped!”

Steve laughs. He’s not even slightly winded. “You wanted to race!”

“What happened to polite, chivalrous Steve from the first date? Would you have let me win if I’d asked then?”

He laughs again, nodding, and leans against the lamp as you swallow thickly and try to catch your breath. “Probably. Like I said, you made me nervous.”

“Do I still make you nervous?” you ask. You start walking again, heading down the paved trail that loops around the park. 

Steve falls into step beside you, his hands in his pockets. “A little. I don’t normally go out on dates. I only had the app because I lost a bet with Natasha.”

You raise an eyebrow and glance at him as the two of you move out of a biker’s way. “Natasha? Like, Black Widow?”

“That’s the one.”

“What was the bet?” you ask him. You’re nearing a playground, and it’s dark enough that it’s empty except for a couple pigeons, but there’s a mother walking with a stroller up ahead.

He ducks his head and rubs the back of his neck with one hand, smiling sheepishly. “I bet her that I could do more handsprings in a row than her.”

You stop and gape at him, and there’s a definite pink tint to his cheeks, even in the dim park lighting. “You’re kidding me. Are you serious, Steve? She’s like, the queen of gymnastics. She could probably go to the Olympics!”

“Probably,” he agrees, laughing. “It was a stupid bet.”

The two of you resume walking again, weaving around the stroller mom, and Steve puts his arm out to block you when you almost walk into a biker you don’t see. You give him a grateful smile and fall into comfortable silence as you walk, but there’s a question nagging at you from the back of your mind, so much so that you can’t ignore it.

“So how many handsprings did you end up doing?” you finally blurt out.

He chuckles. “Not as many as her.”

“What a political answer,” you tease. “Really, how many?”

There’s silence, and you nudge his arm with yours, stopping beside a tree. He looks at you and you raise your eyebrows expectantly.

“Two,” he sighs, and you have to cover your mouth when you snort. He gives you a scathing look, but it’s only a farce because his smile peeks through a minute later.

“I’m sorry, but I was expecting something a little more… heroic than two,” you tell him.

Steve rolls his eyes. “I’m better at other things,” he says.

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

He starts walking and you catch up, taking a few extra steps until you’re beside him again. His hand bumps against yours and you look down, then smile as you lace your fingers with his.

“Pull ups, push ups,” he lists. “Painting, piano.”

You glance over at him, surprised. You hadn’t suspected something so artistic.

“You paint and play piano?” you ask. He nods and you smile wider. “That’s so cool. Maybe you can show me one of your paintings sometime? Or hear you play?”

“Really?”

“Yeah, really.”

The rest of your walk around the park and back to his motorcycle is easy and comfortable, and you hold hands the entire time. You talk about everything, from work and your family to the practical jokes he and Bucky had pulled on Bucky’s younger sister back in the 30’s and 40’s. He gives you his jacket when you’re heading back in the direction of the diner, after you shiver. You protest, but he insists, and the jacket wrapped around you is much too warm and comforting for you to truly argue. By the time you reach his Harley, it’s been an hour and you still feel like you could keep going. 

Steve’s driving is a bit tamer on the way back to your apartment. There are more stop lights, too, and you take those moments to rest your chin on his shoulder and ask him questions or point out things you see. You have to yell, but he nods and smiles along, and when you’re finally parked outside your apartment building again, he recaps his comments and thoughts for you as he helps you off the bike once more. Your balance is better the second time, but Steve still holds your hand until you’re steady, and you hope he doesn’t notice how giddy it makes you.

“I had a really good time tonight,” you say as you arrive at your door. Carefully, you pull your arms from the sleeves of his jacket and hand it to him, then dig out your keys. You fiddle with them as he slips on the jacket again, shrugging his shoulders until it’s firmly in place. 

“Me too. I’d like to see you again, if that’s okay,” Steve replies, and you smile wide.

“I’d like that too.”

There’s a moment of silence where you stare at each other, and you look away first. You want to kiss him, but you know that as much as he’d surprised you tonight, Steve was still raised in a different time. He might not be comfortable kissing you so quickly, and you don’t want to push him.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks, so suddenly that you jump a little.

You blink, looking up from your keys. “What?”

He seems to take that as a sign of disinterest because he smiles politely and steps back a half step, the tips of his ears rosy in the dim hallway light. “Never mind. Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Wait, no,” you quickly say, stepping forward to regain his attention. “You just surprised me. Yes, you can kiss me.”

He smiles a little wider and closes the distance between you even more. His hand rests on your side, warm and solid as he leans in to press a chaste kiss against your lips. It’s sweet, and he somehow tastes like peppermint, though you’re sure he hasn’t been chewing gum.

A bit bashful, you rest your hand on his chest for a second after you pull away. You’re smiling like a fool but you can’t help it—Steve has proven himself over and over tonight, and he makes you feel like nothing could ever go wrong while he’s around. You’re close enough that you can smell his cologne, and you close your eyes for a second as you take a deep breath. Whatever it is, it’s warm and sweet, like coffee with cinnamon, and it makes you want to curl up against him forever. 

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he murmurs.

You meet his gaze and slide your hand down, then away. “Goodnight, Steve. Let me know when you get home, okay?”

He nods and watches as you unlock your apartment, then open the door and step inside. You give him one last look and one last smile before closing the door. Silently, you stand in the entry area and listen as he heads back down the stairs. Once you’re certain he’s far enough away that he won’t hear, you let out a little laugh before darting across your living room to peek out the window. He’s climbing onto his bike when you pull the curtains back, and after the bike roars to life, he tilts his head back and gives you a little salute, a small smile curling on his lips. You wave back, grinning, and then Steve is pulling away, racing down the street towards his home.

Thank you for reading! If you liked this, please consider reblogging my work so that others can enjoy it too.

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Forever: @aya-fay

Steve Rogers: @lipstickandvibranium​ @delicatecapnerd

[bonesandpoemsandflowers]

rewatched most of True Detective season 1, episode 1 last night. minor thoughts, not in order, mostly for me to refer back to when I need it. memory of a memory and if I forgot it in like 20 hours, maybe it's not important anyway.

Marty really does go: me? oh normal regular dude. with a huge dick.

Marty, you've JUST met these guys. must they know about your dick.

Oh, Rust is so sad and wet. You know he's sad and wet. You remember that he's sad and wet. And then he's on screen and he's so much wetter and sadder than you remember.

Rust is not even waiting for a red light to pound his fuckin robitussin. my guy, you already specifically experience hallucinations. YOU ARE DRIVING. put down the DXM.

Rust is so funny, actually, in general. "Oh, I wouldn't bust anybody for hooking. OR DRUGS." [sends other girl away to buy drinks] SO. pills? you got pills? you got downers? pills?? <- first half is a quote and the rest is paraphrased but for real. man's here like. so. PILLS? yeah I'm workin. yeah there's a girl missing. medium breasts, natural. now about those pills--

Like, I remembered Rust as mostly functionally sober until the Crash episode, minus his Sophia grief drink binge, and that's just. That's so inaccurate of me. He's hot for it the instant we get him away from Marty.

Marty is actually initially pretty nice at the dinner, nice about Rust showing up while fucking trashed. He bitches Rust out for like a sentence and then reassesses. The cup of coffee, a little physical touching for anchoring, we'll try this again another time, etc.

And Rust is actually quite forthcoming here also--he outright apologizes.

Or, no. Rather:

It's Rust's being forthcoming that prompts Marty to turn nicer. Rust admitting that he doesn't drink because he's had trouble with it before. Explaining meeting a CI, being at the bar, "couldn't think of a good reason not to."

Which is a good example of how they work--they dance--they adjust to each other.

I always remember Rust as less communicative than he actually is. Because in large stretches, he isn't communicative even when he's talkative. But he's actually very forthright, when he chooses. Like, oddly forthright--no wonder Marty backs down immediately. How can you kick that sad wet man while he's down and apologizing to you?

thought for later--ways he is prideful vs the ways he is very much not.

I want to know more about the dead cats in universe, actually. are they black cats? are they being harvested for their bones. first inaccurate santeria mention here. I'm gonna count them all so I can bitch.

not devil traps, devil nets. i mean, nonsense either way. NOT SANTERIA. nor is Santeria incompatible with identifying as a good Christian--up until recently, any Santero you talked to would, in fact, identify as a good Christian and they'd mean it.

Rust never says "alright" or "all right." Rust strictly says aight. Those Ls are getting dropped, baby. I'm usually pretty good about this--was I paying too much attention to the captions? Either way. Not sure I'll go back and fix it, fic wise, but it's something to consider for future dialogue.

UNSURE if they drop their gs as often as I think they do. It took me ten years to learn to understand Southern and if I watch this show for too long, I forget that these dudes even have accents. It's like how if you put me in the panhandle for a week I start droppin' my gs and I can't even hear myself doing it. Not that I consistently pronounce my gs in any case, but usually I know if I'm doing it because it's one of those code switch-y things. can you take elocution lessons as an adult. askin for a friend.

People tend to discuss how Rust is playing Gilbough and Papania, but Marty is ABSOLUTELY performing a bit the whole time so far.

Speaking of Gilbough and Papania: Papania wants Rust to be the killer sooo bad. He's ready to fight Rust in the parking lot as is, no further questions asked.

Gilbough has such a nice smile, actually.

Rust's ties are so shittily tied. I know this is on purpose, it is a Look for the audience, it is a Characterization Choice, the way this man is undone, ramshackle except where he isn't, but I dated a lawyer for a long time so the loose tie is just. On one hand, it's a leash. Good. On the other hand, it's wrong and I know my fingers could fix it.

He does do it up nice for the press conference, however. He knows how. He just chooses not to.

Thinking about the dinner again. I like how lying comes so easily to Marty. He's clearly just so used to it. 

do we actually ever find out who burned the fuckin field in the very first opening shot. is that addressed? ever?

[goodluckclove]

Probably the Weirdest Review I'll Ever Write

I write all this under a strict Be Cool, clause. If anyone somehow finds any more details on this written work, do NOT contact the writer. I hope to god this isn't something I have to say in advance. I have to hope the people who enjoy my words and interacting with me are not also people who would like try and troll a member of my estranged biological family for the lulz. We get that's crazy, right? We get that's insane? Okay, great. Thank you.

So I imagine it would be easy for some to accuse me of Toxic Positivity. I don't often talk about art I don't like on here - aside from perhaps It's a Very Merry Muppet Christmas Movie, a cash-grab made for TV movie I tore apart on here a couple months back in an excessively passionate rage. That is not the only movie I don't like. It would actually be really funny if I liked every form of art I've ever seen aside form It's a Very Merry Muppet Christmas Movie. But unfortunately I have more depth than a pretty good short-form improv character.

If you're someone who actually interacts with me personally, either in person or online, you know I can actually be super petty and there's plenty of art that I don't like. I just don't talk about it often online, because I think there is objectively enough of that in existence and I think it's a little too easy to pull a Nostalgia Critic/Cinema Sins. I was briefly a local arts critic and since I had the ability to pick what exhibits I talked and wrote about I only focused on ones I enjoyed. The view on what a critic is has become so warped that I mainly called myself a "reviewer".

I'd like to think I'm pretty good at critiquing art. So when I stumbled upon the thesis novella of my relative, who graduated from the same Creative Writing graduate program I was aiming to enter before I dropped out, I thought it would be really fun to read it and send them my thoughts. I figured there was a chance no one in the family ever really sat down and put a lot of attention and love in expressing what they thought of it, and that might be something my relative would enjoy reading. They do not know I found this novella. They do not know I read it and finished it. I hope they never find out, because I honestly would not want them to know that I found their work so jarring that the first time I read it I had to stop after twenty pages and it sent me into a spiral for a week.

It feels important to talk about it. it's New Year's Eve, I changed my name, and I would love to start 2025 not having to think about this anymore. So yesterday I finished the novella and I have composed some thoughts.

For an attempt at anonymity, I will say this is a novella written by my cousin Goobin. I won't say the actual title, but it is along the same lines as The Sound and the Fury. If I were to describe my thoughts in a single word before truly diving into it, that word would be unpleasant. I can't give an entirely objective review because there is a certain element of this novella that is partially the reason why reading it both times really put me in a baffling headspace, but I'll relegate my subjective take as a person related to Goobin to it's own section.

Happy New Year, friends. This is a weird one.

Goobin's The Sound and the Fury is a novella of about 100 pages. It's a near-future novel that follows Manny Soares, an online music columnist living in San Francisco as it recovers from a devastating earthquake. At the start of the novel he is still acclimating to the death of his father Roberto and the way the fisherman's loss rippled across the family dynamic between Manny, his older brother Luis, and their mother Sophia. Manny is sent on assignment to Amsterdam to find the "next big thing" in music, and while overseas the grief he's held back threatens to finally come to a head.

According to the writer, The Sound and the Fury was heavily inspired by the work of William Gibson. I haven't read any Gibson, so I can't confirm or refute how well that reads in Goobin's work. I personally got more of a John Fante-adjacent style in the prose, with a touch of abstraction comparable to maybe William S. Burroughs.

This was probably the most difficult read I've had in some time, and legitimately the only reason I finished it was so I could talk about it right now in the best faith possible. I did not like this at all. The cocktail I haphazardly mixed midway through did not help. So let's talk about why.

The Base Premise Of This Does Not Work

I understand near-future to be a science fiction-adjacent genre. Even in a story as grounded as this, some suspension of disbelief is expected. To some extent I feel like I gave this story a lot of leeway. I was willing to accept, for instance, that Manny is a columnist for a music website that he claims is still able to influence culture. I got the impression it was a stand-in for Pitchfork, a website that certainly helped launch some bands in the early 2000s. At this point in time I don't think it's possible to name a website that "influences culture" aside from mass, community-based platforms like Tiktok or Youtube. But I acknowledge that was sort of the case at some point and I think it's fine for this to take place in a world where that's once again a thing that exists.

The amount of celebrity Goobin seems to think an online music columnist would have is - I mean, I was a child in the early 2000s so I guess I wouldn't know. But I am aware enough about online column-based websites from that era (Cracked, even McSweeney's to some extent) to know that they are like almost entirely freelanced. They would still have a small team of staff writers and editors, though, so having Manny be one of them is not entirely unrealistic.

Where my immersion breaks is Manny's quest to find the next big thing in music on his trip in Amsterdam. His editor Ian is convinced there will be a spike of indie presence in the Dutch music scene, but Manny isn't so sure. Manny Soares, professional music journalist who is described as being almost prophetic in his accuracy, declares his doubts by saying the Dutch music scene is all German Techno.

And, like - no? Don't get me wrong, I didn't go into this knowing anything about Dutch music vibe. But based on my understanding of Amsterdam being a pretty large city, hearing a music journalist claim the sole music of the entire populous was German Techno immediately made me think Manny wasn't a great music journalist. People talk about Dutch indie music like it's something that's right on the horizon - another claim that I was deeply confused about. And after a singular search online I confirmed that - yeah, man, Dutch indie music exits. It's existed for a while.

In fact, the musical history of the Netherlands is super interesting, and the fact that Goobin never goes into it in this novella feels like a huge missed opportunity. Because EDM and other techno variants are definitely super popular. Amsterdam has a huge rave culture. I was surprised to see that they also have a huge reggae and ska scene. One of the most successful bands in Dutch history - compared by people online to The Beatles - is Doe Maar, an 80's group with a dub/ska energy that is super fun.

Looking into other famous Dutch bands (this took virtually no effort) there's also Shocking Blue, a 60's folk-rock band that reminds me of The Zombies, prog-rock band Focus who's song "Hocus Pocus" really fucking hyped me up (PROG YODELING???), and modern symphonic metal band Epica that is still touring and releasing albums to this day. I am not remotely surprised to learn that the Netherlands has music unique to it's cultural heritage but still just as diverse and interesting as virtually any other country. I am more surprised that Manny Sores refuses to believe this and for some reasons still has a pretty exclusive, salaried writing position that is willing to pay for an international flight, as well as lodging and a per diem.

I was definitely waiting for a native in Amsterdam to furrow their brow and inform Manny that there is other music in Holland aside from EDM. That Manny's position is weirdly narrow-minded for someone who supposedly holds a high position in their industry. This never happens. Femke, the attractive Dutch illustrator, even acts as reinforcement to this odd mindset by agreeing the music scene in her own country sucks. She goes on to make an offhanded comment while telling a story about an ex-boyfriend that implies Germans as a whole don't have a sense of humor which - I mean, I have also heard that stereotype, but I just assumed it's something said by people who don't enjoy the German sense of humor. Like people who don't enjoy the British sense of humor. Humor varies by culture.

Having your German character casually throw out an implication that Germans aren't funny as if it's a common fact accepted by the world and the narrative struck an odd chord in me. It goes beyond something I can just accept as an aspect of a speculative world and crosses into a sign of the writer lacking a curiosity about their subject matter while still wanting to be seen as knowledgeable in it.

Manny is Written In A Way That Makes This Whole Novella Read Like an Isekai Anime

I have read a ton of literary fiction, and I am absolutely willing to admit that a LOT of literary fiction leads - especially early postmodernist era fiction - are men. I still enjoy the ones instead and enjoyed, usually because the male lead is still relatable to me, his story is not based entirely in Cool Guy Masculinity, he's adjacent to a non-male character I find interesting, or he's just a pathetic wet cat that managed to endear me. Manny is none of those things. Manny exhausted me midway into the first chapter and it only got worse from there.

Many is the first character I've read in over a decade that made me think the words "Mary Sue". He is described as handsome and depicted as someone who hooks up constantly with seemingly any girl he wants. He is a cool cool guy people respect and agree with. His boss calls him a "divvy" and goes on to say that means "one who divines". This might be the only case of someone calling him out, as looking up the British slang "divvy" shows that it's actually another way to say idiot. But if that's supposed to be a double entendre I'd say it doesn't work, as neither the boss nor the narrative gives any indication that the boss character Ian is lying when he gives an incorrect definition. To me it sounds more like either the writer didn't know what the slang meant, or Ian didn't know and he's lying about being British (the latter would be great since I actually didn't realize until midway through the story that Ian was meant to be British).

It can be difficult for writers to make their characters feel realized as human beings. I don't necessarily think that means showcasing your every character's flaw outright. I think it does the same job to imply faults through other tools - like interactions with other characters. This isn't possible in The Sound and the Fury, as every single character Manny interacts with is so flat I really hesitate to go into them too much. I'd be willing to make the argument that Manny Soares is more than the main character - he's the only character.

Femke is there. She's a woman. She challenges Manny, but not an actual challenge that would require him to really reconsider or expand anything meaningful about him or his perspective. There's Ian - who's personality consists of British, Editor, and that's pretty much it. There are references to Luis, Manny's brother, but they're only though memories that come across as pretty biased. Goobin wrote a preface to the thesis novella where he explained that there were certain characters - specifically an artist Femke and Manny meet near the end and an old Dutch film enthusiast, who were written not as realized characters, but as an "attempt to represent [the author's] understanding and expression of postmodern literary theory".

For the sake of my own sanity I am choosing to decide that this was, for some reason, a requirement of the thesis. I should not have to say that I think it is an inarguable truth that you should not create characters in any story solely as proof that you, the writer, understand the concepts of philosophical analysis. I actually wish I didn't read the author directly admitting this. It provides a reason for the two characters - one of which unsettled me, the other fucked right in and out in a sequence that didn't need to be there - but it also created a thousand more questions I wish I didn't have to try and wrap my head around.

Every other character other than Manny comes across as if they orbit around Manny's existence. In a surreal turn of events, the most realized characters are the ones Manny never directly interacts with. There is a depiction of Some People I Know, a band of homeless people that Manny determines is the Next Big Thing in music (I really don't want to get into how homelessness plays into this but it's a big part), as well as a sequence where Manny witnesses a cross-dresser and has a reaction I can't really parse. The only people that read like they exist when Manny is not in the area are the ones that don't get a word of dialogue. It's surreal.

I also, on a base level, don't understand why Manny Soares - a music journalist from the Bay Area of California - is the one that definitively has to determine how the music scene in a completely different country will evolve. The story never establishes him to be a person with the degree of knowledge and insight everyone else keeps insisting he has. He survives The Big Quake in San Francisco and has a revolutionary insight of the connection between new music and times of hardship and disaster. But when he explains how he saw this, it is - like - huh?

"After the quake, we didn't have power for weeks. That's why you had so much acoustic instrumentation - no place to plug in...all of these groups were mobile, dig? They'd go from block to block or different neighborhoods with their gear in these homemade rickshaws that they towed behind their backs."

So the major influence between disaster and new music, the thing that made San Francisco the supposed epicenter of all quality new music, is...a lack of electric guitars? Manny's description just sounds like street musicians, a thing that already existed in San Francisco as well as every major city. The references to a cultural shift after a major modern San Francisco earthquake is by far the most interesting part of this whole thing, but claiming the heart of it all was just the fact that it was acoustic is just so surface level it actually made me kind of angry.

Also yeah Manny will occasionally talk like a beatnik. This is near-future. No one else does it. No one points out how he does it. I would actually say it's pretty discordant to the rest of the story for the same reason that made this so difficult to read.

Every Sentence In This Novella Is Twice As Long As It Needs To Be Oh My Fucking God

"Manny had begun to suspect that, more than anything, a sense of timing could impart even the most quotidian events with sparkling moments of aesthetic clarity."

Fucking hell, why do you think like that, Manny?

Maybe this is a sign of my personal taste, but the vocabulary of nearly every line of The Sound and the Fury made the whole work such a chore to read. The issue wasn't that it was beyond my understanding - the only word I had to look up was "quotidian" from this exact line, and even then I was basically correct about the definition just based from the context it was used in. But there were countless times when the phrasing used was so unnecessarily academic that I had to stop myself from skimming sentences just to get to the parts that actually mattered.

I have no issues with a more ornate vocabulary - although I venture to say that having the person thinking all these eloquent thoughts also be a guy that talks like a chill Kerouac character is an odd choice that gets even stranger when never addressed. The issue for me is that very rarely does a lot of this language feel needed, or even useful.

I shared this with a few people in my life back when I was really flipping out over it. They all expressed variations of distaste towards the prose, but it was my kid @mercuryytheraven that put it best when they described the book seeming to be written by someone who automatically assumes they're smarter than whoever might be reading it. I totally agreed.

That perceived superiority becomes even more confusing when you take into consideration some of the points in which Manny - and perhaps the writer - are limited in their perspective to the point of misinformation. And for me, the thing that probably sent me into a panic the first time I tried to read it was when I realized this writer - despite graduating with a prestigious degree in creative writing - pulled a move in his thesis novella I found shockingly amateur.

The Subjective Part

So Goobin, the writer of The Sound and the Fury, is a member of my extended family. For the sake of this review let's say he's my cousin. I did not expect this to play a huge part in my view of the thesis. Then I got to the part where Manny describes the death of his father. The grief of this loss is the biggest theme of the novella. Manny's recounting of his father's death is, also, exactly the way Goobin's real-life dad died.

I'm talking one-to-one. Exact, accurate details, including the name of the actual hospital.

This is both not entirely wrong and also a mistake so huge it turned this entire work into something I wish was not available online. Writing what you know is great, and writing to process real traumas is super useful. If you're a writer, you should try it!

For the love of fucking god, though, if you're planning on sharing it with other people you should also change a few details. Like even just names and basic specifics. You don't have to change a lot for the people directly involved to be able to read your work and not immediately realize what event in your shared histories you're describing in explicit detail, so maybe you should go ahead and do that for the sake of your relationship with these people. Holy shit.

Did my cousin's mom have to read this? I know she and my parents went to Goobin reading aloud an excerpt with the other people in his program. I hope to god she didn't read the whole thing. I hope my cousin's mom did not read his graduate thesis, where the clear stand-in for my cousin is a child of divorce (His parents appeared lovingly married from what I've seen up until his dad died) who grew up in implied poverty (I believe he was firmly upper middle-class) as the son of a blue-collar fisherman (Goobin you're the child of a successful nurse and an even-more-successful engineer). These things are the type of fictionalization that is absolutely acceptable to pull. But when a writer mixes elements of that in their lead character, while also having that lead character share an exact memory from the writer's actual life (In a way that would be impossible not to notice if you were remotely involved with him, I can't stress this enough), it forces me to compare other elements of the story with my real-life relative.

Like the way Manny compares the moans of his girlfriend with the death rattle of his father. Or the exposed anal beads of a passing cross-dresser with the tucked kitchen towel of his mother. In another story this is worth speculation and analysis. For me to read this, absolutely certain that Manny is just a proxy for my cousin as he exposes this real pain in a very obvious way, I was viscerally uncomfortable. This felt like something that should've been shared to a therapist and not submitted as a fucking thesis. Oh my god.

Closing Thoughts

I don't want to talk about this novella anymore. If I didn't know the writer, none of my views would change. If anything, I'd be less motivated to finish it before giving my review. Knowing that this is the caliber of work submitted for a graduate program was startling.

I don't think an amount or pursuit of education is what made this novella painful to get through. I imagine the worst part of The Sound and the Fury is that I was left fairly certain that it was not written by someone who actually wanted to write a story. This reads like it was written by someone who fervently wants to be seen as a writer without any actual understanding of what the career of writer actually looks like. There is a poetry and romanticism to writing, like with any other craft or industry. But on a core level, when you do it for work it's also just a job. And when you write for work it's often a kind of shitty job.

This is what I consider to be the major failure of Goobin's work. There's a lack of understanding, a perceived unwillingness to even consider you might have more to learn because you assume you're already right. These are, to me, absolutely unsustainable qualities for any kind of artist.

Hopefully by writing this manifesto I can finally get the ghost of this experience out of my fucking head. New Year New Me. If you've ever sent me writing on here know that it is by far better than this novella. I'm fairly certain every piece of writing I've seen posted on the Writeblr tag here since I joined has been more enjoyable than this. So congrats, friends. Happy New Year.

[lafortezaboy]

I love the who did what first that you wrote! Can you do the same for Sophia?☺️

of course angel!

who asked who out?

i feel like sophia was confident enough in knowing that she liked you and that you liked her that she definitely asked you out first. your first date was something simple, she didn't want to do too much and scare you away, but it was also something you could tell she'd put a lot of thought into, like a picnic at a park where she made all your favorite foods, and she'd made a playlist with music she knew you liked. you two sat there four hours together just talking, and by the time she dropped you off at home, you were asking her to let you plan the next one.

who kissed who first?

while sophia is absolutely confident, she would have waited for you to kiss her first, just to make sure that you wanted it as much as she did. it happened maybe a month into the two of you going on dates, when you weren't official but you were at the dorm with her nearly every night anyways. you two were having a disney marathon and when prince phillip kissed aurora in her sleep, you went on a little rant about how you'd never kiss someone in their sleep, how you wanted your first kiss with her to be when she was awake and could kiss you back, and she asked you "our first kiss, huh? so when are you going to kiss me?" and you could tell by how she was looking at you that she wanted it then, so you leaned in and paused just before your lips connected, and when she didn't pull away you closed the distance.

who said i love you first?

honestly, sophia said that she loved you first, and no one was really surprised by this. she didn't really wait to say it once she knew, either. about two or three months into your relationship, you were at the dorm with them, and you were sprawled out on the floor, coloring in some adult coloring books with megan. when she said some people thought it was dumb she liked coloring still, you were quick to reassure her, and sophia watched you with her and saw how close you were with her, and all the girls really, and just knew you were the one. later that night when you were cuddled up in bed, she was pressing small kisses along your face when she whispered it, and before you even processed it you were saying it back.

who initiated your first time?

it was sophia, but it wasn't because you hadn't wanted to or anything, she simply beat you to it. she had already planned to spend the night with you after going out for dinner, and when you two got back, you were watching a movie with a sex scene in it, and it didn't really turn either of you on, but it did make her start to wonder how you;d react to being touched like that, what all you would let her do, so she was quick to pull you into a kiss, getting on your lap and slipping her hands under your shirt. things just went from there, and she found out that there really wasn't much you wouldn't let her do to you.

who met the other's friends first?

you met the girls first, and I would say they do count this time because sophia definitely waited a little bit before she introduced you to them. she knew you weren't using her for any sort of fame or attention, it wasn't that she worried about that at all. she just knows how the girls are, and she didn't want them to make you overwhelmed or anything. a month or two in though, you convinced her to let you meet them, and you fit right into the group with no trouble.

who met who's family first?

sophia definitely met your family first. with her family living in the philippines, it wasn't like you could just go to dinner with her parents like she could with yours. she probably met your sibling(s) first, and after she met them, you invited her to a family dinner at a restaurant you knew she liked. she was a little nervous to meet your parents, but she won them over in an instant.

who caused your first fight?

it was probably you, honestly, and it was probably over something dumb. you aren't an insecure person, but seeing a celebrity flirting with sophia backstage of a show she invited you to made you see red, because you were convinced they could have offered her a lot more than you. sophia picked up that you were upset quickly, but you were annoyed that she hadn't noticed the flirting and it just went downhill from there. but honestly it didn't last longer than a day, sophia got tired of your shit pretty quickly and pretty much made you see that you were being ridiculous.

[waiting4thestarstoalign]

do you remember?

do you remember leaving?

how, for once in my life, i actually talked to people that day?

because, god, maybe i was actually happy?

do you remember me, standing there in my hoodie

my hoodie my favorite hoodie talking to people?

you had watched me for so long not talk

and maybe you were jealous that she brought me out of my shell and not you

maybe you were jealous that while you didn't get me to talk, because you didn't listen enough, she did

i don't know

it doesn't matter

do you remember, though?

do you remember sophia hugging you? because she knew?

do you remember asking me if at sometime point, after she came, if we could talk? privately?

do you remember your coat? my hair? my bag? how i didn't have a coat? how i was freezing? the bandaids i bought at the cvs beforehand?

do you remember the walk? how she gave me the charm and the book and the safe sharpener?

do you remember?

do you remember standing in line? getting out of line? going outside?

do you remember what you said to me?

do you remember me just saying “okay” and you feeling the need to explain more and more and more?

do you remember the phone call?

do you remember telling me you didn't want to take the time to fix this?

do you remember telling me you didn't love me, after you had just said it the night before?

do you remember?

do you remember how i was sitting between isles? do you remember her hugging me? her having to hold me? my wrist? the bandaid? the tears? oh, no, cause you were there for that, were you?

but you remember the rest, right?

when you hardly smile anymore? when your grades are dropping? when you're underperforming at rehearsal? when you look miserable during the choir concert? when you look right past me? when you look miserable all the time? how you physically wince when you hear me say her name to someone else?

do you remember it?

do you even fucking remember me?

your best friend.

the person you cried for, for hours on end, until i woke up, because you thought i killed myself?

the person you talked down seven times?

who was always there for you, no matter what happened?

who fought your battles? helped you with homework? got you into half the music you listened to?

or did you forget about them after you introduced them to her?

do you think that might've been your mistake?

because you knew that i would love the one person i never fight with, who has never hurt me, who never blows up on me, who got me to talk more then you?

or did you forget about them in july? when they were going to kill themself and told no one, who texted you “i love you” and didn't text her anything?

did you forget about them, because it wasn't you who saved them?

did you forget?

or do you choose not to remember?

[eeblouissant]

Unorganized (angsty? Also unedited) Dorothy thoughts I wrote down on the train this morning :)

- Dorothy seemed much more passive before the divorce, & regardless I headcanon her being that way (until Stan effectively destroyed it). She was unhappy & then became very depressed through being married to him, I think she coped by disassociating whether she was aware of it or not. I don’t think Dorothy remembers a lot of her time with Stan (not her kids, Never her children. she’s separated Stan from them for a long time now) simply because she wasn’t there mentally - she chose not to be. We see (or, at least I do) a drastic shift in the way she behaves around Stanley even when she’s in a room with Blanche, Rose & Sophia. Some of the only people she feels like she doesn’t need to “disappear on” in order to tolerate. Her pessimism was a result of Stanley (specifically before & during the divorce, it was a painfully slow process.) & she uses it as a defence mechanism, or a safety blanket. I like to think that she wasn’t that way growing up, even the opposite.

- Dorothy is Very good at tuning out. If she doesn’t want to pay attention to you, she won’t. And you’ll never know the difference. (I saw a mutual mention her also just straight up taking out her hearing aid, so, she also definitely does that lmao– poor Rose gets the most of it)

- Anyone who’s spoken to Dorothy since the divorce, & knew her before it happened, especially before Stan – will tell you that she is Not how they remember her to be. And I think this is why so many of the people around her (besides the Obvious Reasons to hate him) have immediately taken to disliking Stan, the damage is so visible & absolutely undeniable that it would be impossible not to have something against him, no matter what role they might play in Dorothy’s life. Sophia would obviously harbour the most resentment, next to Dorothy. I don’t think Dorothy has been able to grasp just how badly Stan hurt her yet & I believe that is partly another choice she’s made. That &, she doesn’t remember much about who she was before anymore, anyway. It would just depress her to try & uncover.

- Side note on that last point, Blanche & Rose have definitely not believed Dorothy whenever she might have shown them old photos of her. Jaw drop moment for sure. & of course cursed Stan to all hell – I think Blanche would have gotten a little emotional. As much as she’d want to poke fun for a laugh I don’t think she’d have been able to bring herself to. She recognizes how tragic what happened to Dorothy is & was immediately. Not to say that Rose wouldn’t.

- I love love picking apart the ways Dorothy’s changed, the drastic change in how she chooses to dress (ignoring trends, & all that, just for a second) has always been interesting to me. We see a younger version of Dorothy in clothing that hugs her figure & creates an explicitly, traditionally, feminine silhouette. While after Stan dumps her, she’s begun leaning towards a style that could at times be considered more masculine. Especially in the new silhouette she’s created. This could for sure just be me reaching. I like to compare her to Rose, though, who still dresses in styles Very reminiscent of the 50s’. I’ve talked about Rose dressing the way she does because of Charlie before but I’ll address it here again, because Blanche is also very similar here. They never really changed because they never felt a need to, it’s obvious that Dorothy felt the need to do something. (brought on through insecurities, Stan, her own mental health, the list goes on. She needed to match the outside to the inside because she didn’t feel like that same passive person she was once. Imposter syndrome … question mark? Just a touch, perhaps.)

[losfacedevil]

Change // SFK (Pt9)

a/n~ Last weeks update was a bit heart wrenching. Was Sammy able to deal with the heartbreak he knew she felt? Was he able to get her out of her slump? CATCH UP ON THE FARMERS MARKET HERE!

“I literally don’t know what to do. You should have seen her face, I’ve never seen her look so scared before.” Sam lounged across the small two person seater couch in his brothers living room. 

Jake stood at the kitchen table, mixing cocktails for the boys to have with their dinner as he pondered everything Sam had confided in him. They had all known about Sophia — she was all Sam talked about for weeks, but no one knew of her broken past other than Sam. Jake knew the information Sam had shared was confidential and was proud to be the brother he was confident sharing it with. 

“That’s rough, trying to heal someone you’re not responsible for breaking is such a huge task to take on. Are you sure you want to do that?” Jake asked, knowing full well what his brother was about to take on. Sam shrugged, pushing himself up off of the couch and made his way into the kitchen. 

“Am I sure? Not really. Is it a scary thought to try and mend a heart I didn’t break? Absolutely. But there’s something about her drawing us together and honestly I’m gonna try like hell to bring her back to the girl she once was.” Jake nodded, sliding the drink in his hand across the table to Sam. 

“Hypothetically speaking when would you see her again?” Jake asked, his eyes trained on Sam’s face. 

“Hypothetically she hasn’t missed a market day since we met so if she’s the creature of habit I think she is I’ll see her Saturday.” His older brother nodded and reached up to run his hand along his chin. 

“I know you said she doesn’t typically hang more than a few minutes but see if she wouldn’t stay the day with you. Have her help you drive your sales, something to keep her mind off of things.” Sam nodded and a soft smile caressed his lips.

“That could actually work. I knew we kept you around for something!” Jakes jaw dropped and he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“You’re not funny.”

~*~*~

“Why are you so nervous?” Danny couldn’t help but notice the nervous tick of Sam’s hands as he began loading up another milk crate with mason jars. The younger boy shrugged his shoulders gently, sliding the full milk crate across the counter and bent at the waist to grab the basket off of the floor. 

“I don’t know if Sophia is gonna come by or not. I haven’t heard from her all week.” He mumbled, carefully placing everything he had made specifically for her into her basket. Confusion kissed Danny’s features as he turned to face Sam. 

“Wait why? What did you do?” Danny quipped, arms crossed over his chest and he shot a death glare at Sam. The younger boy held his hands up in surrender. 

“I didn’t do anything. Something happened last week and she shut down on me. I’ve tried reaching out but she either doesn’t answer my call or leaves my texts on read.” Sam shrugged his shoulders, his heart aching in his chest for the girl he knew cowered behind that of her trauma. 

“But she’s reading the messages? I’d take that as somewhat of a good sign. I wouldn’t worry too much. Something bad happened, right? She needs time to process her emotions and what happened before she’ll be your Sophia again.” 

Sam couldn’t help the sigh that slipped past his nose. His eyes trained on the monarch butterfly that fluttered around just beyond the window as his mind reeled.  Danny watched on as the younger boy ran through his emotions, pulling his bottom lip between his teeth and turned his attention back to the task at hand. 

“You have to understand you can’t always be the knight in shining armor that protects her from her predators, Sam. Things are gonna come up, people are gonna rear their ugly heads and you’re gonna have to allow her to work through it alone.” Danny clapped his hand down on Sam’s shoulder, gently shaking the boy lovingly. 

“I know, but I can try like hell, can’t I, Rose?” Sal cooed, bending down to love on the pup sleeping near his feet. 

~*~*~

Sophia paced the length of her living room, tears streaming down her cheeks as she thought about not going to the market. She wasn’t sure she could face him after a week of silence; fully unsure if he would still accept her for her or if he would have already written her off. 

His messages had stopped coming a few days prior. Something she saw as him losing faith in her and in what they had. She didn’t understand what having someone willingly give her space to work things out felt like. She pulled his contact up in her phone, finger hovering over the call command as her mind raced, thoughts of losing Sam something she couldn’t mentally cope with. 

“He cares you nitwit, you know he does.” She mumbled, tossing her phone onto the couch before collapsing to her knees on the ground. A sob ripped from her chest as the scene in the thrift store played through her mind once again.  How mad her ex had looked, how Sam had jumped into protective mode and just how sad his facial expression had become when he realized he couldn’t do anything for her. 

“Just go, wallowing in your pity isn’t going to change anything.” She mumbled, pushing herself to her full height. A sigh slipped past her lips as she slid her feet into her shoes and picked up her phone to find a message from Sam. 

Samuel <3

Thinking of you, sweets. Hope to see you soon! 

She couldn’t help the tears that welled in her eyes as she snatched her keys up off of the table sat beside her front door. The cool air kissed her skin as she stepped outside for the first time in days; her eyes landing on what looked like a day old vase of roses sat on her doorstep. 

She cocked her head to the side, looking around to see if there was anyone nearby before stepping forward and sitting on the top step. She reached out and touched the rose petals gingerly, fearful they were going to fall when her eyes landed on the card. 

‘I’ll be here when you’re ready. - Sammy’ 

Her chest heaved as she pulled in a deep breath and gently scooped up the vase in her hands. 

~*~*~

“There’s just a lot and it’s not my business to tell but just remember if she does stop by to not be a knuckle head.” Sam chuckled, rearranging the baskets that sat on the table in front of him. It was quickly approaching mid-day and he had sold through more than half of his stock for the day. 

“And it has to do with whoever you guys ran into? She didn’t disclose who it was?” Danny questioned, curiosity getting the best of him. Sam shook his head lightly, a shrug of his shoulders punctuating the end of the conversation as his eyes landed on her. 

“Yeah I really don’t know. I just know that it wasn’t good and turned a good day into a shit one.” Sam mumbled as he turned his attention to her. 

“Hi boys.” She kept her voice low, almost so soft it couldn’t be heard over the hustle and bustle of the market. 

Sam kept his eyes trained on her, the way her shoulders slumped, the dark circles under her eyes, and the way the corners of her lips tugged downwards into a frown. He side stepped around the table and opened his arms in her direction. A soft smile tugged on her lips as she took a step forward and wrapped herself around him; burying her face into the soft fabric of his sweatshirt. He swayed her gently, reaching up to thread his fingers through her hair.

He let his hand slide down the back of her head and around her neck until he could curl his fingers underneath her chin and tilted her head back gently. Tears pooled in her eyes as she locked eyes with him, the soft smile of relief never leaving her lips. Sam leaned forward slightly, capturing her lips with his in a short and sweet peck. 

“Well excuse me! You and her? And what?! KISSES?! When were you gonna tell me? Hmmm?!” Danny quipped, making his way over to them as they broke from each others embrace. 

Sophia couldn’t help the belly laugh that escaped her as she turned on her heel and smacked Danny’s arm. She grabbed his hoodie pocket, pulling him closer to her before gently wrapping her arms around him. Danny’s eyes grew wide and he looked at Sam who shrugged his shoulders and mimicked that of wrapping his arms around someone. 

“It’s good to see you, Soph.” Danny mumbled, wrapping his arms as tightly as he could around her shoulders; eliciting a suffocated sounding giggle from her. 

“I thought Sammy told you already! I figured you’d know all about me and all about us by now.” She giggled, turning on the charm Sam knew was hiding the broken heart in her chest. Danny chuckled, resting his cheek against the crown of her head, following her cues. 

“Sammy probably doesn’t tell me as much as you think he does. Hell I didn’t even know he came home the night he went to see you. I thought he forgot where he lived.” She giggled softly, pulling away from Danny. 

“No he left me because he didn’t want you to be upset, or at least that’s the story he fed me.” She shrugged. Her eyes began wandering along the line of booths and lit up slightly as they landed on one manned by a young girl. 

“I’ll be back.” She mumbled, holding up a finger towards the boys as she took off at a jog down the path. 

“What was that about?” Danny asked, nodding in Sophia’s direction.

“She’s struggling, there was a lot of lies in her last relationship. I mean I did tell her I had to leave so you wouldn’t lose your mind that I was out with your car but I’m sure in her past relationship that meant he was somewhere else with someone else. There’s still a lot of trust to earn.” Sam shrugged, knowing full well he was in it for the long haul. 

Sophia glanced up from the young girl she was speaking with and locked eyes with Sammy, a quick movement of her hand beckoning him towards her. Sam drove his finger into his chest, cocking his head to the side as she nodded. 

“Go be lovebirds, I’ll hold this down today. I don’t want to see you back here, got it?” Danny chuckled, placing his hands on Sam’s shoulders and gave the boy a gentle push. 

Sam couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as he made his way over to her. Shoving his hands in his pockets as he sidled up next to her. Sophia quickly finished her conversation, slipping a new beaded bracelet onto her wrist as she bid her farewells to the young girl.

She reached up and looped her arm through Sam’s, resting her other hand against his arm as she nodded her head in the direction of the exit. Sam leaned down and gently pressed a kiss to her temple as they maneuvered their way through the small crowds. 

“Will Danny have your head if you take off? This is the last place I really want to be but… I…” her voice trailed off as she stopped in her tracks, collecting her thoughts. 

“I love Danny, I do but, I just… I just want to hang with you today. I know it’s selfish and it’s okay if you don’t want to.” Sam reached up and placed a finger against her lips, silencing the ramble she was on. 

“It’s cool, we can take off if you want to I just have to give Danny the keys.” A relieved smile spread across her face as she unraveled herself from him. 

“I’ll meet you at my car.” 

Sophia turned on her heel and slowly made her way back to where she had parked, her mind reeling with everything she had been mulling over the past week. She knew that she had to tell Sam everything, after the show her ex had put on she felt like she had no choice. She had slept her week away, the sheer exhaustion the mental toll took on her ripping away her freedom.

It wasn’t long before Sam was jogging up to where she stood leaning up against her car. She toyed carefully with the array of beaded bracelets that adorned her wrist, her eyes trained on the one she had picked out for him. 

“You left your basket again. Are you over all the sweet treats my magic hands make?” He joked, placing the basket down on the hood of her car. She smiled up at him sadly, the corners of her mouth not quite meeting her eyes. He followed her lead, reaching out to cup her face in his hands. 

“What’s wrong, doll face? He hasn’t been bothering you, has he?” Sam asked, rubbing his thumbs along the apples of her cheeks. Sophia shook her head gently, 

“No he hasn’t bothered me but, you bother me.” Sam’s face dropped, the corners of his mouth pulling down into a pout and he dropped his hands from her face before taking a step back. 

“I… um… I’m sorry. I can go.” He mumbled, throwing his thumbs over his shoulder in the direction of his market booth. Sophia’s eyes grew wide and she took a step forward, wrapping her arms securely around his middle. 

“No! No, no. That didn’t come out right. I…. Uh. Fuck.” She mumbled, resting her chin against his sternum. Sam reached up to rest his hands on her cheeks.

“You want to fuck? Wow, that’s a bit forward, don’t you think?” He joked, leaning down to rub his nose against hers. 

“Samuel! I’m trying to be serious and you’re trying to get it in. Typical man. What I was trying to say was it bothers me that there’s so much about me you’re still in the dark about. And I so badly want to tell you it all but I don’t… I don’t want to scare you away. There I said it!” She nearly yelled, letting her eyes flutter shut and pulled in a chest heaving breath. 

Sam moved his hands from her cheeks, reaching up to thread his fingers through her hair. He cupped the back of her head and leaned down to capture her lips with his. She melted into his touch, following his lead as his tongue poked out from between his lips and danced across her bottom lip. She happily obliged, allowing him access to slip his tongue softly against hers. 

Her grip on him tightened, almost as if he would blow away on the wind if she let go. He chuckled lowly as she bit down on his bottom lip as she pulled away from him. 

“Well that was um, unexpected.” She giggled, burying her face into the soft material of his hoodie. Sam pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, letting his eyes flutter shut as he realized it was now or never. 

“Be my girl. Let me in that pretty little mind and be my girl.” He mumbled, poking his fingers into her ribcage to elicit the sweetest giggles. 

“That’s a pretty big ask, Samuel. Are you sure that’s what you want?” She teased, resting her chin against his sternum once more. 

“I know there’s a lot you’re still working through and that you’re still trying to love yourself as you are but, cmon make a guys day and be my girl. Please?” He pushed his bottom lip out in a pout, puppy dog eyes on full display as he leaned down and peppered kisses against her forehead. 

“Before I agree I need you to know. There’s gonna be days where I don’t like you and I don’t like me and it’s nothing personal so if I snap or I shut down don’t take it personal, okay? There’s a long road ahead.” Sam nodded enthusiastically, fully understanding weeks like the one they just had may be the normal for a while. 

“So is that a yes, my sweet girl?” Sam mumbled, peppering kisses all over her face. She nodded gently, turning her head just enough to capture his lips with hers in a sweet kiss.

TAGLIST: @gretasmokerising @ascendingtostardust @sammysprincess @sammykiszkamyass @belovedsamuel @puzzle-gvf @sunfl0wer-power @vanfleeter @aintthatapity @twistedmelodies @gvfpal @psychedelicsprinkles @miguelnation @gracev0609 @runwayblues @jordie-gvf-admin

[under-rated-characters]

Love song

Beth Greene x reader

This fanfic is inspired by the song (From the start by Laurey) and it includes some lyrics as well

This is my first fanfic, and English isn’t my first language so if there are any mistakes please let me know.

Angst (I think?)

400-500 words

Ever since you met the Greenes after Carl got shot, you and Beth have been inseparable. Through thick and thin, you knew you would always have your best friend with you. When her boyfriend, Jimmy, died trying to look for Sophia, She was devastated. She thought her life was over, but you were there to comfort her. You were her rock, her shoulder to cry on.

As time passed, she didn’t seem to get better, so you got out your book and started writing. Writing songs and poems have always been able to calm your thoughts, so you decided to write her a song to try and cheer her up a little. Something short and sweet you could wipe up in a few minutes. And it worked. So you kept giving her songs after songs, and poems after poems. Even when you all got to the prison, you didn’t stop. Seeing the way she smiled and the way her eyes shined when she read them and the way that she loved singing them for the rest of the group was enough to make you keep fitting for more. But as more and more people got to the prison, your best friend started to drift away. You were going out to search for supplies a lot more, and she started getting attached to other people and after a few months she was completely in love with another. But it wasn’t until she was out of your grasp, that you realized you were completely and utterly in love with the one and only Beth Greene.

And with that, you decided to write her one final letter. Poring every word you wanted to tell her from the start. How you’ve wondered how she never noticed when you got quiet when there was no one else around. Just the two of you in awkward silence. Just wanting to tell her not to look at you that way because you didn’t need a reminder of how she didn’t feel the same. To tell her about the burning pain of listening to her talk about a new soulmate “he’s so perfect”. How you’d wish she would wake up one day, run to you, confess her love, and at least just let you say. That when you talk to her, Cupid walks right through and shoots an arrow through your heart. You knew you sounded like a loon, but couldn’t she feel it too? Confessed you’ve loved her from the start.

It was the middle of the night when you finished the song with tears in your eyes. You got to her sell, when you opened the curtain your eyes filled with even more tears than before. Seeing her hug her boyfriend in their sleep was just too much. So you dropped your final song to her on the desk, left the prison, and never came back.