#pour one tf out for these folks | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

velveticamoon · 4 years ago

Text

‘LIMERENCE IN IT’S PUREST FORM’

DAZAI OSAMU X FEM! READER

— dazai finally takes off his bandages, but with that his insecurities seem to be bubbling up to the surface, scared that his s/o’s love for him may waver because of the imprints of his past upon his skin.

WARNINGS: angst (but turns into fluff??), mentions of suicide attempts (it’s dazai folks c’mon-), self-harm mentions, implied sex, profanity

[lowercase intended]

A/N: was this fic my way of professing my love for dazai? yes no ofc not. this gets so painstakingly soft at the end even i’m not sure how tf that happened but hope y’all enjoy nonetheless (feedback and reblogs are appreciated!! have a lovely day folks)

“are you sure about this?” you asked as you held his hand gently in the palm of your hand, the two of you sat cross-legged in front of each other on your bed. he sat with his clothes off, shirt discarded somewhere along the floor of the bedroom, his trench coat neatly hung across the back of your desk chair. he looked calm, despite the storm that you knew was brewing within his mind.

he slightly chuckled, his eyes closed for a split second before reopening, allowing you the chance to bask in the pools of brown that were being illuminated by the moonlight filtered through the window, casting a shadow over his form in an ethereal manner. how he always managed to look beautiful, no matter what it may be that he was doing at that moment? you’ll never know, but you’d never pass up the opportunity to bask within his beauty.

“if i wasn’t sure, i wouldn’t be sitting here in front of you like this right now, belladonna,” he said, in a hushed manner, not wanting to break the atmosphere around the two of you. he flipped his hand that was facing upwards, gently intertwining your fingers as though he was trying to calm you down. but you knew he wasn’t trying to calm just you down, for the slight shake in his fingers gave him away despite his smile-graced face.

you sighed, shutting your eyes gently for a second, giving his hand a light squeeze before reopening them to look at him.

“it’s ok to be scared, you know?” you said, watching his expression morph from one of calm to surprise, to genuine relief. if there was someone he was willing to let his guard down with, even if it was merely one of the many walls he’s caged himself in that surrounded him in an everlasting maze; it might as well be you.

“i’m fine love, but the longer you linger on this feeble task, the more i’ll be tempted to just rip them off myself~,” he said in a teasing manner. when in reality he knew that if that was the case, he’d most definitely shrink back within himself, too scared to let you know what truly lies beneath the shield of his bandages.

he just didn’t want you to abandon him, for he believed that someone as ugly as him didn’t deserve to be cradled so gently within the innocence of your touch.

“i just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, i just.. i want you to feel safe with me,” you said, eyes looking straight into his, and he saw all the unadulterated love you were pouring into his being with merely your gaze, and he almost let his breath hitch because of how overwhelmingly in love he was with you, almost.

“i want you to do it, i trust you,” he said, his voice dripping with a sense of honesty you’d never heard spilled from his lips. that small reassurance was enough for you to finally grip the ends of the everlasting bandages layered over his skin, finally tugging at the bit that would begin the anticipated unraveling of the truth that lay on his skin.

this time, his breath did hitch, your ears caught onto it, and your eyes snapped up to meet his eyes immediately. “do you want me to stop?” you asked, concern laced within your voice, and that alone made his heart melt, the initial shock of the action fading away.

he brought his hand up to stroke your cheek with his thumb, the warmth from your skin sinking into his cool hands, a soft smile tugged at his lips.

“no, i want you to keep going,” he said, and so you did.

you slowly unraveled the rest of the slightly worn-out white bandages, to the point where the pull of gravity finished the job for you. you began gently pulling away the bandages and toss them to the side, only to look back and freeze.

scars upon scars littered his pale skin; some varying in sizes, some faded, but others still fresh. but in the end, the ones that broke your heart the most were the ones engrained on his wrists, indicating that the pain had been inflicted upon him by his own hand.

your lips parted, eyes wide, the shock was ever-so evident on your face. your fingers ghosted over his skin, as though you were afraid to touch him, which in a way, you were. not because you were disgusted, but the thought of you hurting him caused you to refrain from doing so.

dazai stayed silent while watching your movements, calculating his next movements to help stimulate you but to still manage to maintain his facade, but all his thoughts got cut off as he felt you pull him into your embrace.

“i-i’m so sorry, osa, none of- fuck- none of this should’ve happened to you,” you said. dazai could only stay silent as you held him.

dazai’s mind went blank, and he could do nothing but relish in the feeling of your arms around his being, actually getting to feel you without the bandages acting as a barrier between the two of your bodies.

“something as ugly as this shouldn’t have had to even be near your skin,” you said, but despite the sentiment that dazai knew you meant with the words, he couldn’t help the feeling of them rubbing him in the wrong way.

but he didn’t say anything, he just wrapped his arms around you too, and leaned his head atop yours, closing his eyes.

‘she thinks i’m ugly..’ the thought kept running through his head, no matter how much he tried to push it away. dazai had always been one to never let his insecurities show on the surface, but this was one of those moments where he felt as though he couldn’t possibly get more vulnerable than he already was. eventually, the thought had gnawed at him enough, and he couldn’t take it anymore.

with a sigh, he pulls away from the hug and asks “do you want me to put the bandages back on?”

you look at him confused, “does something hurt? if that’s the case, then go for it. otherwise, why?”

he shrugs, averting his gaze towards the blanket that laid beneath the two of you, and says, “i don’t know, i figured because you said that you don’t think they’re beautiful.. you didn’t want to look at them anymore.”

your heart shattered, and you couldn’t help but look at him in disbelief.

“excuse me?” you asked in an exasperated tone, you genuinely couldn’t understand where that thought came from and felt guilt pool in your chest when you realized.

‘he thinks i don’t wanna look at him anymore.. because of his scars..?’

your features immediately softened, and with the way you gazed at him with tears in your eyes, one could only describe your expression as heartbroken.

you cupped his cheek with the palm of your hand and turned his face to look at you, but his eyes remained averted.

you sighed, “osamu, look at me.” you said, voice gentle but held a sternness to it that he knew he’d be an idiot to refuse to comply with.

“what in the fucking universe gave you that idea?” you said, his eyes slightly widened, lips barely parted at the way your voice shifted.

but the thing that shocked him the most was the pure determination that was spread across your features. you gazed at him with such sincerity that he felt utterly enamored by it, almost getting lost in your eyes if it weren’t for your voice bringing him back.

“your scars, although yes, i don’t think they’re beautiful, i’d never want you to hide them from me. the only reason i don’t think of them as beautiful is because of the amount of pain i can only imagine that came with them. and it's ironic, considering i know how much you hate pain.. yet you’ve had to endure so much of it,” you let out with a bitter chuckle. “it doesn’t mean i would try to turn a blind eye and move on, as though they were never there in the first place.” you paused, forcing your throat to not close up on you as you spoke, trying your damn hardest to keep your tears at bay, to stay strong, all for him. you knew that that’s what he needed the most right now, and that became all the more prominent when you noticed the tears beginning to prick at his eyes as well.

you shut your eyes and took in a deep breath, trying to recollect your thoughts, before looking back into his eyes.

“when i told you i loved you, i meant it. every word,” you said, and his breath hitched at your words, but that didn’t stop you, no.

for nothing could stop the way your heart beats for the man in front of you. no matter how ugly the scars may be that were permanently ingrained in his skin, that wouldn’t cause you to lose sight of the true beauty that lies within his soul.

“when i told you that i love you.. i made a promise to myself. to love and cherish every part of you, the good and the bad, the quirks and the flaws, the beauty, and the pain. i promised to love all of you.. even the parts you’ve come to hate yourself.” you said slowly, with a bittersweet smile lining your features, dazai could do nothing but stare at you as you spoke your heart out to him.

“..why?” was the only word he could croak out. he internally loathed how weak and feeble he sounded in that moment, how he didn’t want it to show how much of an effect you had on him with just your mere words, but that was something that he knew he’d never be able to hide. everyone in the world knew that if there was one thing dazai would never lie about, it was his love for you.

you smiled softly, and brought your other hand up to brush the messy tuft of hair atop his head back behind his ears, and leaned your forehead against his, the one that was resting against his cheek reaching down and grabbing his hand with yours and holding it against your heart. dazai’s heart fluttered at how earnest you looked in that moment.

“because.. it’s you. it doesn’t matter to me which part of you it may be.. in the end, it’s still you, and that’s all that matters to me.” you said, and he immediately connected your lips with his, as though with the simple action he was going to be able to pour all the words he wanted to say to you at that moment into your heart and mind.

and it did. it always did.

when it came to the way he kissed you, you could always tell the meaning behind each one.

the playful kisses from when he’s running away from kunikida, always coming in the form of quick and rushed pecks, only for him to continue running right after.

tender kisses to your forehead when the two of you are in the comfort of your home where you both know that no one’s watching, the kind that makes your heart flutter in the best way.

the kisses that occur when he’s managed to come back from a dangerous mission, all in one piece and he always makes sure to come back and give you a lingering kiss, to reassure you, and him, that you’re both still there and alive.

and the soft and delicate kisses to your cheeks for when he’s feeling particularly nostalgic. whether he’s reminded of something from his past, or on the days where the remembrance of his dear friend oda becomes too much to handle.

you always knew the meaning behind dazai’s kisses, and at that moment you knew that the kiss you two shared was a symbol of both of your love being poured into one another’s souls.

the two of you parted, your foreheads resting back against each other’s, breathing slightly heavy from the kiss, but that didn’t stop dazai from murmuring the words ‘i love you’ against your lips.

and he meant it, because why lie about the one thing you’ve never been more sure about in your entire life? even if he felt as though he never deserved it in the first place.

you smiled, and he’d forever feel entranced by the way the moon now cast its glow along the features he’d always found himself to be completely infatuated with. the way your hair graced and complimented your entire being only added to that infatuation.

“i love you too, my beautiful prince.” your lips captured his once again. “let me show you just how much,” you murmured against his lips as you started to gently push him back towards the bed, trailing gentle kisses along anywhere your lips could reach.

and dazai knew, no matter how many times the world may lie to him, that if there was one thing he could always believe in, it was the love the two of you shared, for it was more than love.

»»————　　————««

dazai let his thoughts wander as the two of you laid next to each other, basking in the feeling of your naked bodies tangled up within the sheets, and he watched as you littered gentle kisses along his wrists, kissing each of his scars that your lips could reach.

his heart swirled in a sensation that he could only describe as peace. _no, _it felt like more than that.

“hey, y/n..” he quietly called out. you stopped your actions, humming in response and tilting your head up to face his, which was now staring at the ceiling of your bedroom.

“what’s a word that might describe the way i’m feeling right now?” he asked, you scooted up the bed, raising yourself onto your elbow to begin playing with his hair.

“i don’t know osa, you’re the only one that can answer that,” you said, and he hummed, shutting his eyes and reveling in the feeling of you toying with his hair. “if you want to know, there might be a word to describe how i’m feeling though?” you suggested, and he fluttered his eyelids open to look at you.

“of course, belladonna, what are you feeling?” he asked, a soft smile gracing his features.

“limerence,” you said, and he tilted his head in a questioning manner, not understanding the meaning since the word you had spoken was in english. you lightly chuckled, and said, “it’s an english word, meaning ‘to be infatuated or obsessed with another person,’ and i think it’s pretty fitting, don’t you?”

he smiled even brighter at you and pulled you closer to his body so that you were now laying on his chest.

“limerence, that's this moment.. in its purest form, no? that’s what i feel, at least,” he said, and you hummed in agreement, that’s all you felt in that moment while resting in his arms.

how beautiful is it that someone could make your heart beat so fast, while remembering the times when you didn’t want it to beat at all?

#dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai x you #dazai osamu #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #osamu dazai #dazai fluff #dazai imagines

562 notes · View notes

elfyourmother · 3 years ago

Text

every time I hit my head and click to view a WoW post (cuz I have it blacklisted) and find out whatever tf is going on now with that story it makes me want to go back and finish Heart of the Phoenix but then I remember why I lost the heart to do it

it’s not just that I got tired of fighting upstream against the gushing tide of bullshit continuously pouring out of cdev, it’s also that their gross incompetence in writing has radicalized the fandom to the point that I don’t think there’s an audience anymore for my fan work, even if I could get back into the headspace to write Kael and Illidan and Vashj adventures again

It’s also that cdev being the way they are, with their biases, have fueled so much bitterness and resentment with the fandom. understandably, but it’s like an ouroboros of negativity and rancid vibes. I’ve never seen a fandom so starkly divided as WoW ppl, and yes the nature of the setting pretty much encourages it, but I don’t just mean Horde v Alliance shit here. not even bioware ppl fight and get up to the kind of heinously bad faith and stupid character disk horse I’ve seen w WoW players. it’s always grossly personal, it never stays about the characters, any time some boneheaded story decision gets made it’s always cdev “pandering to” fans of whichever character they can’t stand, whichever enemy faction of this fractious player base they personally hate. you could make madlibs of it at this point. looking at it from the outside is just...a lot, honestly.

I fell in love with all the characters in WC3 because they were nuanced and flawed and three dimensional, for all they were isometric polygons on the screen. In general there are very few characters in that setting I outright hate, and even the tiny handful I do, I find incredibly fascinating and want to explore with an even hand (eg. Maiev). They are all messy and flawed and painfully human (even the ones who aren’t). Arthas’ fall from grace remains one of my favorite storylines in anything ever just as one example, and in the current environment I can’t say shit like that without being derisively dismissed as “Arthas fangirl” and thus everything I say is suspect and I have nothing of value to add. I’m just one of “them”. And assuredly not the Sylvanas Stan I’ve always been because how could I love them both so much?

I’m not even angry anymore about anything I hear, just depressed. because in this environment who tf is interested in nuanced character portraits? who’s interested in anyone fleshing out motivations and exploring flaws and folk being, idk, adults? Christ I got enough harassment from that deranged little poodle who kept getting himself banhammered from every LJ WoW community back in the day and sent me daily hate mail about how I was an Illidan apologist. And that was years and years before Redemption Arc Discourse seized every fandom ever by the tits and refused to let go, much less this one

there’s just no place for me and my take on that world, is what it comes down to, and hasn’t been in years.

#fandom fuckery #warcrack

6 notes · View notes

duhragonball · 5 years ago

Text

youtube

Gonna take a minute and pour one out for Dragon Ball Z Abridged.

I feel bad for Team Four Star, because the series actually ended in 2018, when they published the epilogue to Episode 60, and they seemed kind of uncertain about whether they’d continue or not. The final moments of Episode 60 had a teaser for “Season 4″ (the Buu Arc), which was supposed to be this big confirmation that they were really going to go through with it after all.

But almost immediately after that, they started trying to manage fans’ expectations, talking about doing S4 differently, and releasing the episodes in a different timetable, and probably nothing would actually happen until 2020 or 2021. All I really expected was their treatment of Movie 9 (the Bojack one), since that was next in line, and they seemed fairly confident in their ability to tackle that one movie.

Then came the announcement in 2019 that Bojack wasn’t going well, and then they postponed Movie 9 indefinitely, and now here we are. I feel bad for these guys because they clearly regret that it took them this long to finally admit that they couldn’t go on. Copyright issues are the main logistical reason for ending the series. They’re not a fan group anymore, they’ve been a business for years, and they can’t afford to have their YouTube channel taken down over a show full of IP they don’t own. But that was an issue three years ago. The bigger problem is burnout.

I’ve experienced this before myself, and I could kind of sense it from TFS when Lani talked about how hard a time they were having doing the Bojack parody. They spoke of Bojack Unbound like it was just so impossible to get a good script going, and maybe it is a tough nut to crack, but I just couldn’t help but wonder if the movie was really the trouble. They had several months away from DBZA, only to come back to it and have an even harder time writing new stuff for it. And yet they didn’t want to give up, because it should have been a fresh start, and yet it just wouldn’t come together.

Some naive part of me hopes that they’ll get their groove back and tackle Season 4 one of these years, but I’ve already kind of made peace with it never becoming a reality. I’m more worried for the fate of TFS’ other projects, which I keep hearing about, but I never seem to see. My fear is that their burnout goes beyond DBZA, and they just haven’t realized it yet. I hope not, because they’ve got this murderer’s row of creative talent, and I’m totally cool with following their original stuff.

I guess what I’m really concerned about is that this could happen to me some day. Well, like I said, it already happened to me once, but it was more of a professional burnout, and once I changed jobs and got back on track, I was fine again. I had my internet presence to fall back on as a refuge. They say if you do what you love you’ll never work a day in your life, but that kind of sounds like putting all your eggs in one basket. I like to write, and I draw stuff once or twice a decade, but if that was my job, it would be sheer hell trying to force myself through a period where I just didn’t feel creative. I’ve watched a few TFS videos where I get the sense that there’s been some periods of low morale, where they have this whole brick-and-mortar building where they have to play video games and be funny for a living and they just don’t feel it. And when that happens, where do you go from there? I hope Team Four Star can find an answer.

Anyway, I discovered DBZA back in the fall of 2010, when I was somewhere in Month 2 of a four-month unemployment. There’s some other hard times I’ve been through where looking forward to their next episode helped me get through it, but... I don’t know, burning through those first dozen episodes in 2010 seems to stick out for me. I just liked that there was something new in the fandom. Before 2010, I couldn’t really tell that there was a DBZ fandom at all, so it was a relief to see people who were even more passionate about it than I was. I just really needed to see that at the time. I know there’s other DBZ fans who think Abridged is dumb or jumped the shark a long time ago, but the point is that I probably wouldn’t even be aware of those folks without DBZA. So I’m grateful for that.

I’m also grateful for this. TFS may not have made it to Bojack and Buu, but they got Perfect Cell sworn in as the mayor of Sassy City, Sassyland.

youtube

#dragon ball #dragon ball z abridged #team four star

44 notes · View notes

holymeccaa · 4 years ago

Text

When the ancestors call..

I’m taking a social media break. I know you’re asking me how tf that’s possible seeing as though you’re seeing this. Truthfully, tumblr is more like an online journal to me, more so than twitter or IG. I don’t use my tumblr half as much as I probably should or could even though I would like to. I mean, I scroll, reblog here and there but that's usually the extent of it.

However, when sis does use her tumblr, its a much more intimate part of my life and mind that I share, even if no one sees it. Its a way, other than my actual physical journal to relate to people.

That being said, tumblr is the one place that has seen my evolution of life. I started this tumblr back in late 2009, and since then I’ve grown into this totally different person, I should have.

One of the main things that has changed is my spiritual beliefs. I’m a country ass, southern ass girl who was raised in the COGIC church (Church of God in Christ). Anybody who knows anything about southern black folk is that they love their church and they love their Jesus. Once upon a time, so did I.

I left the church in my early 20s, but there are so many things that were taught and indoctrinated within me from my time in church that I couldn’t and still can’t shake. I always wondered why that was. The music, praying, believing in a higher power. Tbh, when I first left the church, I felt guilty. I felt guilty because I felt like my grandfather would be disappointed. My grandfather raised me to believe in God and to always trust and depend on him. I just got to a place in my life where I felt like that wasn’t my narrative, and to be completely honest I didn’t know what was.

Fast forward to now. I am a rootworker in training. I don’t currently have elder’s to learn under or learn from seeing as though they have passed on. That’s another thing I felt guilty about. Questioning whether Hoodoo is really my path seeing as though I’m having to learn everything on my own. I’m having to really be more tapped in to spirit than the person who has elders to learn from. It’s also made me feel like because I don’t have elders who practice that are still alive, maybe I wasn’t as called as I thought I was.

[[Insert ancestral veneration]]

There’s a few reason I’m taking a social media break. I do have a business (Luv.Saii) that centers around providing oils, herbs and other talismans and curios for hoodoo practitioners, as well as educating and sharing my journey as a rootworker and healer [[you can check it out at saimecca.com]] so the initial urging to take a break and recalibrate stemmed from that. I have a habit of becoming really excited about stuff and then abandoning it and I don’t want that to happen with Luv.Saii. I’ve poured about $2000 into this business, but more importantly I feel like it’s my duty to make an impact with the knowledge that I do have. However, this social media break has also turned into me really turning inward. It’s made me realize how distracted I allow myself to be in order to not deal with certain things that may bother me or to appear as though I’m doing the healing I need to do. I feel like because of that and the distraction of social media, this is why I have mini breakdowns so often and allow myself to be overwhelmed. I feel like if I’m going to really be able to help others, I have to help myself first and that’s why I’m doing my choosing to not engage on social media and clearing my mind.

I’ve been journaling, coming up with content ideas, learning, reading..all things that I always say I want to do but I never do because I end up mindlessly scrolling. It’s been relaxing and my ancestors have been LOUD. I know what I’m here to do and I have to do it.

#hoodoo #rootworkers #rootwork conjure ancestors ancesteralveneration

3 notes · View notes

starblazerm31 · 5 years ago

Text

Apprentice April Asks #5 Azalea/Imalia

And here I close out my characters for Apprentice April. Thanks so much for the interest, you guys! Lotsa pics and stuff below the cut.

1. Who is your character’s patron Arcana?

As my MC, her patron Arcana is The Fool.

Imalia's patron Arcana is The Empress.

2. Take us on a tour of your Magical Gateway. (Use pics if you have them!)

Azalea’s gateway has three parts to it. The first part is a snowy forest cast in eternal twilight that gives the snow a pink color. Stars whirl overhead in the sky.

The path goes on and the snow melts and the forest becomes alive with fireflies.

And at the end, the forest clears out onto a sandy beach with a small cottage perched beyond the tideline. The water vivid blue, and stars and nebulae fill the sky above.

Imalia's gateway opens into a misty forest with red leaves on every tree.

The forest leads past what look like the ruins of an ancient castle or temple.

Past the ruins is a long peninsula with a tower right on the edge of a cliff overlooking a sea. This is where Imalia tests her magic without worry of destroying anything in the real world.

3. Does your character rely on The Cards?

Not really. She still does readings at the shop, but otherwise she only heeds the cards when they actually have something to say.

Nope. She doesn't even own a deck. She knows of what's out there in terms of magic, and the Arcana honestly don't even register with her unless something crazy involving them happens. Otherwise...there are bigger, more scary things lurking in the dark that require her attention. And she calls divination "spoiling the fun."

4. Has your character come in contact with any other Arcana? (other than the Devil) Tell us about it.

Nope. Azalea's first encounter with the Arcana was in the main story, and Imalia just doesn't care for the Arcana enough to visit them.

5. Any brushes with demons? (besides the Courtiers)

No, she's been very lucky.

LOL! Demons are such a normal thing to her, she knows a lot of them by name.

6. What is their favorite magically-enhanced thing? (Music, Food, Clothes, etc.)

She loves magically-enhanced food. Especially cake. Cake that sings when you eat it. Cake that changes flavor with every bite. Cake that is actually pie disguised as cake. (you cheeky little pastry you!!)

She really loves magical clothes. She loves a good party, and a chance to dress up is one she won't miss. She loves making sure her outfits are extra. She really loves illusionary fire on her outfits, since she really plays up the phoenix aesthetic. (Hell, Balthazaar is usually her best accessory! A REAL freaking phoenix!) But her favorite thing...magical booze. Oh yeah. Was this vodka? Hell no, it was wine! Or was it mead? No, it's vermouth. Now it's absinthe.

7. In your character’s story, how did they acquire the Stove Salamander?

Azalea bought the stove salamander from a merchant. She got it to help her aunt light fires more easily since she suffered from arthritis.

*singing to the tune of 'I Ain't Got Nobody'* "IIIIIIIIIIIIII ain't got no saaaaaaaalamander..."

8. How did your character meet Asra? Describe the meeting.

It was the Masquerade after her aunt Sylvane had died. She was wandering around the various vendors. Some flashes of brilliant magic caught her attention, and she saw this beautiful creature weaving spells for some children. She approached when the children ran off, and suddenly she was captivated by the sparkling lavender eyes that locked with hers. He produced a small crystal ball and asked if she would like to glimpse into her future. She said yes.

One evening when she was 15, she snuck out of her house and went down to the docks. Her mother had deeply angered and hurt her, and she needed to blow off some steam. Getting into trouble at the docks seemed like a good idea to her frazzled teenage mind. She stalked around the place, looking for a fight. She heard shouts nearby, and went to investigate. She saw a group of thugs chasing a small white-haired boy. At last! She bolted after them and challenged them. They mocked her, but accepted her challenge. She unfortunately found herself in quite a disadvantage as these thugs actually knew how to fight rather well and outnumbered her five to one. Just as things were starting to get really bad, magic began to assail the bullies. They took off running, and Imalia was left pretty battered up. The small white haired boy and a rather large dark-haired boy near her own age came up to her. They thanked her for standing up to those guys, and introduced themselves as Asra and Muriel. Asra healed Imalia's wounds, and as thanks she bought Asra and Muriel dinner. Asra and Muriel were her first friends in Vesuvia, and she visited them at the docks often. They got to witness Imalia single-handedly saving the docks from a fleet of pirates, but that's in the next question.

9. Give us some headcanons of your character with other Arcana characters. Did your character meet them before they died? Were they close?

- Had an encounter with Lucio when she was 13. She and her aunt Sylvane were pouring the ashes of her parents into the water at the docks. From a good distance away Lucio was standing there, discussing some repairs that a few piers needed with his advisors. He happened to glance over and saw Azalea and Sylvane. For just a moment, he and Azalea locked gazes. This made Lucio's blood run cold, as it reminded him of the one thing he had no power over...death.

She and Lucio were a couple for almost three years.

To begin, when she was was 17, pirates attacked the docks. Count Lucio was feverishly ordering a defense, but the enemy was using cannons and catapults that did massive damage. Imalia saw this as an opportunity to test her greater potential, as she had never been allowed to cast major spells since moving to Vesuvia. She begged Lucio to allow her to try. He was skeptical, but had very little options at hand. So he allowed it. Imalia cast her first Dragon Slave and wiped out the entire enemy fleet in one shot. This piqued Lucio's interest. He offered her anything she wanted in return for saving the city. She asked for passage into Prakra so that she could attend the Magical University there. Behind her mother's back, she had applied and been accepted. She just needed to get there. Lucio didn't understand her request, but he granted it.

When she returned from the University, (age 21) she attended a soiree that Lucio was holding. Lucio was awestruck by how much she had matured over four years, and pestered her the entire evening. Imalia knew that this was just the thing to get her mother off of her back, plus Lucio was a hellraiser just like she was. So she "fell" for his charms. They had lots of fun together, and lots of steamy nights. But eventually Lucio stopped paying her so many compliments, crediting her achievements while they were together to himself alone. This seriously got under Imalia's skin. After a while, she started to feel like just a piece of furniture. So one night, she broke up with him. She didn't give an adequate enough explanation, so Lucio always thought she just got bored with him. It actually hurt him quite deeply because he had been planning to propose to her.

10. Describe your character’s Masquerade outfit. Use pics if you like!

Very Turkish-inspired. Completely white with long white feathers, keyhole midrift.

@dagnyart did it much better than me. XP

"If you're not hogging the entire doorway to get into a room, you're not doing it right."

11. What did your character do right after they defeated the Devil? Did they pass out? Did they just keep partying? Did they run off for some privacy with their LI?

Azalea was bone tired. She let Nadia get her speech out of the way, but as soon as it was over, she shambled back to her room with Julian/Lucio, and passed tf out.

12. What happened the day after the Masquerade? Did they just keep partying?

Azalea was very occupied by Julian/Lucio when she woke up the next morning. They had celebrating to do. ^_~ Afterwards, a bath and back to the party!

13. What did Nadia reward your character with after the events of that night? (She did promise payment, after all)

Azalea was made Court Magician, and given a substantial monetary reward. She was able to give the shop some much-needed renovations as well as buy some new stock.

14. How did they folks in the neighborhood react to your character’s deeds after the Masquerade? Did they keep giving you those odd looks? Did they give you a hero’s welcome? Did nothing change at all?

At long last, the looks stopped. More people began patronizing the shop, and Azalea found herself with more friends than she could have ever hoped for. She finally felt like she belonged.

15. What were some life-altering events that happened that following year? Marriage? Babies? Renovations to the shop?

She renovated the shop, Imalia came back to Vesuvia and the two of them rekindled their sisterhood, Azalea finally found her familiar in Corva, and got engaged to her LI.

Returned to Vesuvia, discovered that Azalea was no longer dead, and finally hooked up with Asra.

#apprenticeapril #the arcana #the arcana mc #the arcana oc #the arcana apprentice #fan apprentice #fan character #azalea nevra #apprentice azalea #imalia gabriev #master imalia #imalia art by @karriguelle #tumblr your formatting drives me nuts #for craps sake i am ocd

5 notes · View notes

frost-feathers · 6 years ago

Photo

When the frosty mist eventually cleared, massive spikes of ice pierced up into the air like a deadly sculpture. The soldiers caught in the blast were on the ground, disorientated but barely harmed. The same could not be said for the anonymous figure.

She laid unconscious between two pillars, cradled in a frozen throne. One spike was embedded in her side, and the blood that poured from the wound froze instantly as it came in contact with the corruption. Her hood had fallen in the blast, and pitch black hair spilled over her shoulders and framed an all too familiar face.

“Oh my gods…” A human gasped. “Is that…?”

“No, it can’t be,” a charr muttered.

In my chara’s universe, she yeets tf out of maguuma after “killing” trahearne (he AINT DEAD ITS ALRIGHT FOLKS) and hides in the frostgorge sound because she doesnt want to cause anymore deaths fighting the dragons. for four months shes chillin there with her new plant friend indu while trahearne is like “WHERE IS SHE” until she overhears some kodan discussing the pact fighting one of the claws of jormag so she and indu go in disguises to help with the fight and then THIS ACCIDENT HAPPENS and thats how they find her thanks for coming to my tedtalk

#gw2 #gw2 norn #commander libitira #blood cw

12 notes · View notes

merlinthoughts · 6 years ago

Text

Season 1 Episode 4 - The Poisoned Chalice

- god fucking dammit here we go again, i'm bloody done with my life and do not, at all, want to see merlin die bc i don't remember anything except that, yeah, he dies and someone has to get off their ass and save the motherfucking day and kiss him

- i realise how much i swear in these posts bc 1. when do i not? 2. i'm emotionally invested 3. i have no other excuse i just like swearing

- AAAND NIMUEHS IN CAMELOT SHE THINKS SHE'S SO SLY WITH HER HEAD THING

- id recognise her in a split second tbfh, she aint subtle

- *heterosexual tension*

- merlins skin be looking so smooth this episode, this boy be wearing lots of Dove

- he looked so excited to be in the banquet, then arthur just fucking slashes him with “not quite” and his hopes and dreams are destroyed

- “wanna see what you’ll be wearing tonight?” arthur says as he's behind the fucking changing curtains, about to get undressed and show merlin his birthday suit

- i honest to god thought that was where he was going, but no, he was just getting something from behind it

- “tonight you’ll be wearing the official ceremonial robes of the servants of camelot” IT'S A FUCKING DRESS ISN'T IT

- aw damn id have preferred a dress

- that smile shared between them was the most adorable scene

- god

- i

- fucking

- love

- their

- smiles

- sm

- best thing ive ever seen

- i mean… hunty look at that piece of glistening butter beauty

- wow ok back to the episode:

- bros being bros and giving each other a handshake to destroy the mortal enemy pack and put together a family, we stan.

- as if a servant who has only had eye sex with another servant ONCE would trust them enough to say that one of the chalices were poisoned. like??? “ur the only one i could tell” LMAO NO?

- she's a sly fucking dog tfbh

- “if he kills arthur, uthers soul will be broken and camelot will fall” at this rate uther prob wouldn't care if his son dies or not, look at him, he's already mentally broken. he has anxiety and paranoia over magic. child services where u at in the medieval ages?

- i wouldn't believe a word she said, or well, id have believed it was poisoned but id say yeah no damn way you aren't in on it if you know which one it is. bayard wouldn't tell a fucking servant.

- HE'S GONNA SNAP ISN'T HE

- MERLIN FUCKING SNAPPED

- yknow what we say here folks? U DO U MERLIN

- okay i was fine if uther made bayard drink it but like the moment uther said “mmmh… no.” and slowly turned to merlin i think my arteries just crunched together and died so

- “if it is poisoned, he’ll die” HE'S FUCKING SCARED MERLIN WILL PASS AWAY ISN'T HE?

- “it's fine” he says, then starts to fucking choke

- ah fuck he's down

- my boy is down

- FUCK ME SIDEWAYS WITH A CHAINSAW

- ARTHUR CROUCHES NEXT TO HIM LIKE “BB NO”

- lmfao bayard looks so shocked, his face is in disbelief and confusion, he's like who tf done me bad

- arthurs carrying merlin fireman style this is what i live for folks

- did like nobody notice the flower stuck on the inside of the cup? like honestly if you take a sip you’d kinda spot it or perhaps even the person pouring the drinks would have been “is this chamomile tea? no? then what the fuckery-doo is this leaf in here for?” yknow. it's like that scene in Matilda when the angry buff lady completely missed a fucking salamander in her cup when it was the size of her bloody hand. it brings out the same mood honestly

- does gaius have an index for these books or does he just have every page memorised and know exactly what page to go bc I FUCKING NEED THAT it would make bio so much easier if i knew what page it was on instead of looking back and forth from the homework sheet to my textbook, then closing it by accident and having to find the index again for that specific page i need

- arthur wants to fucking go on a life-or-death journey to save merlin i've never been so happy

- this is honestly my favourite episode, like it may be really fucking angsty but i love it so much

- arthur betrays his dad and leaves his room even after being told not to just so he can save a servants life is literally my new moto

- NO IT WON'T LOAD MY NETFLIX IS STUCK ON 99%

- okay so while i'm waiting for my shit to load, i just discovered the new fucking tumblr rule starting dec 17 and i'm like 0.2 inches away from just spamming NSFW pics on here just for laughs

- like hunty, that won't stop people from posting elsewhere or for thinking about sex bc like??? whatchu gonna do tumblr?? get the fbi to erase it from our minds

- i think nOT thot

- watch me get flagged for just using the fucking term “NSFW”

- i'm gonna end up asterisking everything (is asterisking a word? wow it has red under it so like probably not but i just added it to my dictionary so uhh it is now)

- by asterisking i dont mean furry kin shit ew no

- i mean like N*FW, s*x, t*mblr, m*rthur

- god it took me like 20 minutes to calibrate my fucking wifi and fix the connection problem

- wow the stage for the poison increased by 75% in 30 mins, damn

- merlins like like having a conniption on his bed lmao, chanting arthurs name and sweating lot

- do we ever find out how uther gets that scar bc i'm like 100% positive arthur was a little child and swayed his fucking sword too hard just as uther rounded the corner. the sword then collided into his fucking brain and destroyed a good part of his intelligence, targeting especially his morals on how to accept people and how to be a good father

- that’s my theory

- merlin starts talking enchantments in his sleep while gwens watching, and gaius is just there like wtf merlin ur blowing ur cover “oh! gwen!! uhhh sorry. he’s just... in a latin study group in his pastime and has an oral presentation in minutes”

- omg, nimueh, stfu

- i didn't know dinosaurs existed back then, this reptile be whack

- y’know what's funny? ppl thinking dinosaurs didn’t exist. i find creationism very very very intriguing bc how fucking stupid could you be

- that sword throw was faker than my moms tits

- arthur could have done better

- k but like what if merlin’s hand wasn’t under the covers? like he was just throwing that blue ball around right in front of gwen

- can arthur like not hear her? nimuehs literally enchanting the rocks right behind his ear lobes and arthur acts nothing of it until those said rocks collapse and he gasps and suddenly he realises shes evil

- also his fucking hair in this scene looks glorious. perhaps bc it's pushed back rather than his bowl cut, but its doing things to my abdomen

- i thought for a second she was pulling off her mask to say “nimueh” and arthur was gasping bc he only recognised her after her hair was shown, just like in that scene with joker and harvey in the hospital

- OH RIGHT THE SPIDERS I LIKE COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THOSE SONS OF A GUNS

- i’d be dead if those spiders came crawling up to eat me lmfao

- k so nimueh went from :) to >:D in half a second

- i'm smelling up those symbolisms, boys

- watch out pals cause here are some of them:

- merlin is the LIGHT of arthur’s life

- he LIGHTS up the party

- he gives arthur a BRIGHTER future

- he's the GUIDE for his path

- hahhahahaha

- i'm serious when i say i have a huge fear of insects (spiders count in that too, no discrimination) so i'm just putting that there, saying to yall id be fucking terrified

- gaius would be so confused, like we don't see his face here but merlins close-up sweaty concentrated frown, but he’s literally just screaming “ARTHUR!!” “FASTERRR!!” “YESS!!” “CLIMB!!!” gaius would be looking like he walked into something he wasn't supposed to. prob thinking he should just let the kid die so he doesn’t have to deal with this shit anymore

- UTHER LOCKED HIS SON AWAY I'M FUCKING QUESTIONING HIS PARENTING SKILLS

- that's grounding???? throwing ur child in prison???

- yes 999 can i have child services on his ass

- gwens so smart honestly i love her

- pretending to be a maiden for the food, god what a queen

- arthur buying it and saying “yuck you say this is food?! disgustang!”

- the fact that i misspelled disgusting but it autocorrected to disgustang (which is originally what i wanted but autocorrect shouldn’t have known) makes me consider if i should really check my dictionary…. who knows what words are on there

- they’re so smart

- and then this fucker ruins it all while eating his food, checking her out and saying yeah arthurs a prick, hyuck hyuck, realising only that wait fuck u aint the maiden

- how’d they know GWEN was the one not supposed to have delivered the food, what if it was that chick right there???

- welll….. maybe it's because gwen took her sweet time up those steps, staring as if she couldn’t blink at the guards below

- i forget what happens at the end of this episode besides the kiss, and there's like 9 minutes left my fingers may rot at this point

- wake him up! wake him up!

- OH WAIT HE DOESN'T FUCKING WAKE UP DOES HE AND EVERYONE PANICS

- YEAH OKAY I'M SEEING THAT NOW

- MERLIN STOPPED BREATHING

- LMAO GWEN IS IN TEARS

- “HE'S DEAD” SHE SAYS

- ARTHUR BB COME IN HERE TO KISS UR HUBBY ALIVE

- OH WAIT UR IN FUCKING PRISON

- WAIT UP, HE'S ALIVE AND SHE KISSES HIM AFTERWARDS????

- FUCK ME I THOUGHT FOR THE WHOLE EPISODE THE KISS HAPPENED BC HE COULDN'T WAKE UP THAT'S FUCKING WITH ME I DIDN'T KNOW

- i keep forgetting to switch up the cap locks, sorry if it seems im screaming im legit using my inside voice for most of the time just emphasizing my words a little more

- goddamn, everytime they say mercia i just think of “murica”, like those americans on the 7th of july or whatever date the “we love our country” day is, chanting it as they throw around beers and fireworks as people gather round in jerseys or crop tops

- it's not that hard to spot the european on here

- the most celebrated holiday here which contains a lot of beers and big pub gatherings (besides every fucking night honestly) is either new years, lowkey stereotypically correct saint patricks, and ig easter monday but that's more for the kiddos

- i mean ofc christmas and all that shit but im not the most devoted christian, i just like presents and small gatherings among good friends

- wow okay it wasn't the 7th of july

- i mean at first i looked up “USA day” (i couldn’t remember the name) and it popped up today’s date, and i was like no thats not it at all. dec?? its in like july i think. and i was close! it was july 4th.

- uther damn knows it's nimueh!!!

- i mean, he just overheard morgana and arthur talk about it, and initiated himself into a convo about it once morgana left, as his sneaky ass just slithered up like “hey man, u know that woman? yeah uhh, what she say? anything about me? no? k i know who it is tho”

- i thought he was going to apologize or like explain to arthur what's the sitch, but he just waits for five whole seconds before saying. “those who practice magic know only evil. they despise and seek to destroy goodness wherever they find it.”

- arthur, confused: sounds as if you know her

- uther, walking away: i do

- arthur:

- wow k lots of fucking quotes here cause it's the merthur reunion

- get ready babs

- arthur: still alive then?

- merlin: oh yes, just about… i understand i have you to thank for that

- arthur, leaning on the chair merlin is sitting in, stifling a smile: ah it's nothing, a half-decent servant is hard to come by. i was only dropping by to make sure you’re alright… i.... expect you to be back to work tomorrow

- merlin, watching arthur as he slightly walks away having embarrassed himself: arthur... thank you

- arthur, slowly: you too

- they stare for like 5 whole seconds

- arthur, uncomfortable: well… get some rest

- there we go folks: my eulogy.

- hope someone reads it at my funeral

#merlin #merlin bbc #merthur #s1 #s1ep4

18 notes · View notes

wouldnt-it-be-hilarious-if-i · 3 years ago

Text

11:59 pm

currently listening to: means something by lizzy mcalpine

i got a new tarot card deck today---two actually. one of them is cat themed, and the other is unicorn. i started getting super sad (not sure why honestly), so i ordered some stuff to get back into witchcraft. it made me feel safe when i was younger to do spellwork and to worship the earth the way i did.

i remember being like eleven or twelve and leaving out nightly offerings to the fairies. i had a specific tea set that i used for them, and i'd leave them sweet cream, sugar cubes, milk, and other sweet things. i was a big fairy girl.

i've loved fairies for as long as i can remember. i used to draw them all over the place, and i remember reading fairy books all the time and learning all the facts about their diet and where to find them and how to get them to speak to you. i don't think i ever actually tried to attract them. i really just liked leaving them offerings.

for now, i'm back to creating an altar. i couldn't do that when i was younger because even though my parents aren't religious, that would have freaked them tf out. i ordered a travel altar on etsy. it's super pretty---it has himalayan rock salt, florida water, a candle, dried flowers, and a few other items. the theme of the altar is self love, which is something i'm severely lacking in rn it's very pink and girly. i'm getting more crystals soon too. ya girl needs a moonstone.

i've been scared to go back to being all witchy and such for a while. i used to think it was just a really strong catholic guilt, but i'm starting to think it's more likely my religious ocd. i practiced until iwas thirteen, and then i stopped because i watched the craft and it scared the fuck out of me. so i started avoiding witchcraft entirely, which is a very ocd trait.

what's sad about that is i'm pretty sure it's ancestral to my family for me to practice. i've never asked my grandmother before (no contact), but i have a clear and vivid memory from when i was in nyc with her, sitting in her apartment. it was 2009 and the princess and the frog just came out (we had the bootleg version). my siblings were out somewhere, and i was just laying on her bed. my grandma came in smelling like cocoa butter and empanadas (we aren't hispanic---she just liked making them for us), and she very carefully walks over to the other side of the room. "have i ever showed you my special jar?" she asked. i shook my head. "you have to be careful. it's very important. do you understand?" i nodded. "do you think you're ready?" i nodded.

grandma got on her hands and knees and gently pulled out a tall glass vase with a peach colored ribbon carefully tied around the neck. she sets it down and begins to cut her toenails. i watch as she does this and then sweeps them into her hands before pouring them into her jar.

a jar full of toenails.

she shows it to me and she's like completely serious. gentle, even. she explains how important it is and how the others wouldn't understand it. i don't think i fully understood a word she said. i wasn't freaked out or anything. i just literally was like, "coolcoolcool, toe jar. nice." anyway, grandma puts the jar up and leaves the room

and i just go on watching the princess and the frog

now here's the thing: my grandma wasn't a prankster. she wasn't the type to joke around about those sorts of things, and she was very protective and careful with her words around me. i have my own reasons for not talking to her anymore, but i don't think she was fucking with me. especially considering there ARE family rumors that she dabbles in witchcraft, and the fact that she's from a country that is known to practice it in rural areas. also, i asked my cousin and one of my older sisters and neither of them remember a jar like that, but they 100% agreed it probably wasn't a dream. my dad also used to read this book about african folk remedies and told me it was all "mumbo jumbo" and he didn't "believe" in that stuff. sounds witchy to me. my dad's side of the family is chalk full of weird witchy things---my grandma was not the only person who collected things like that. but i didn't find that out until later.

interestingly, no more than two years after this memory, i began to naturally gravitate toward witchcraft on my own. she never told me that's what it was or anything. i just naturally felt comfortable with it, and never had trouble making spells work for me. anyway, it's wild that it never occurred to me before that ocd might have been why i stopped practicing because honestly, i avoid the church too. i get the same level of anxiety if i do anything other than pray.

but you know what? i hardly ever feel genuinely anxious when i wear the protection amulet i wear every day. it's definitely not a cross. i also never feel anxious when i look at my crystals, and i wasn't anxious doing my tarot card reading today.

anyway, i'm really excited to start practicing again. i'm hoping that i can just focus everything on practicing again and not think about all the other things that are bothering me. i want to look more into the practices that my ancestors would have used, but also lean into applaciation and german folk magic because that was present in my mom's side of the family as well. i don't know who all in my family practiced, but i know it's there.

0 notes

lizzybeth1986 · 7 years ago

Text

Nuestra Familia (RCD MC: Astrid)

Book: Red Carpet Diaries

Rating: G

Pairing: Astrid-centric, minor Seth x Astrid

Summary: Astrid realises she doesn't know her family as well she had thought. Minor crossover with The Freshman/The Sophomore/The Junior.

Author's Note: This is a bit late for MC Appreciation Week, but I figured I'd put it out there anyway. This is my origin story for Astrid Ortega, my second RCD MC, who is involved with Seth. There's a cameo of one character from TF/TS/TJ in the end and I have a feeling you folks have already figured out who it is 😅 I used (of course) the "crossover" prompt from this list for my fic. I'm tagging @choices-mc-rules, in case they would still like to reblog this.

Translations:

Nuestra familia - "our family" in Spanish.

Chanclas - slippers/flip-flops

Tres leches cake - Typically a very moist chiffon cake soaked in a mixture of evaporated milk, condensed milk and heavy cream. Tres leches literally means "three milks".

Abuela - one of the terms used for ‘grandmother’ in Spanish.

Ita - Short for Abuelita, also used for grandmothers. Astrid calls her grandmother the former, her mom Teresa calls her grandmother the latter.

Manda Huevos - Can mean a lot of things according to context, but generally used to express a range of emotions, such as annoyance, disappointment, contempt or disbelief. In this context, Teresa means “it's not fair”.

If I've gotten anything wrong in terms of references, please do tell me, and I'll definitely fix it in the fic.

“One more foot inside my kitchen and it'll be my chanclas for you later.”

Teresa Ortega said these words to her daughter Astrid, in the same tone one would use to offer a guest some tea.

It wasn't that her mom didn't allow her kids to help with the cooking. She did. Salome was too young to do much but set the table yet but Astrid (and her big sister Letitia, whenever she was home) often pitched in to help with the meal.

But heaven help anyone who tried to help Mom with her tres leches cake.

This recipe was from Mom's Ita’s faded little diary, passed down to her by her mother on the condition that she would learn its recipes off by heart. It was her pride and joy, Mom would often say. Her baby before her actual babies came along.

And today it was even more essential Mom get this cake right. Astrid's abuela was visiting, and ever since Astrid's mother insisted on naming her Astrid (“She’s already named my first and last - at least leave the middle one to me!”) she could do nothing right.

Perhaps it would've been easier to handle if Dad wasn't Abuela's only son, if Mom had someone she could jointly ignore Abuela with, if they had cousins they could play with while the adults sorted out their issues. Or perhaps not. Still, it would have been nice to know.

“Easy, mom, I'm not going to touch your precious cake,” Astrid said, grinning, “Lemme demolish it at lunch instead.”

She'd be lying if she said she wasn't tempted, though. She could get the scent of baked cake wafting in all the way from her bedroom, and her mother was already starting to combine Carnation milk, condensed milk and 1/4th of a cup of heavy cream into a thin, but somewhat creamy, mixture.

Mom raised her eyebrows. “Why are you here, then?”

Astrid felt the muscles around her neck tense up, but schooled her face to a look of injured innocence. “What, can't I just want to talk to my mom once in a while?”

She craned her neck a little further behind Astrid, a tiny frown beginning to form between her brows. “What's that you're holding behind your back?”

Ding! The cake was ready now, just in time for soaking. Astrid let out a sigh of relief. She wanted Mom to see this wedding card, yes - it was why she came to the kitchen in the first place - but now was probably not the time for questions. Questions about family or about secrets. Not when she knew how important it was for her mother to get her weekend cakes right.

“Family” was always a big deal around the Ortega table. Dad was his mother's only child, and Mom’s parents passed on long before any of them were ever born. Her father was as annoyed by Abuela's antics as her mother was, but it never stopped him from having her visit every Sunday because “she's the only family we have left”.

It was as if he needed her to keep himself rooted, as if without her he would be floating aimlessly, no aim or identity, taking his wife and children down that path with him. Abuela knew this. By God, did she know this.

Or so I thought, Astrid said to herself, gripping the wedding card tightly and creating new creases where the word Ortega was written.

Mom was gritting her teeth now, carefully pouring the three-milk mixture over the cake and muttering to herself. “One more word about dry cake this time and I'll give her soggy toast, I swear I will.”

Astrid would have stood up last week and said something to Abuela, if only Mom would let her. It was probably a good thing Leticia wasn't around, she'd fire shots at Abuela for less. She was protective over all of them and often in the heat of the moment she'd forget she’d be landing them all in further trouble.

She was still muttering. “Wants chiffon cake. Screams bloody murder if I use box mix. What, Teresa, looking for shortcuts again?” Mom's voice was raised in an accurately nasal imitation of Abuela's voice. It was almost like she'd forgotten Astrid was there. “Then I make it from scratch like she wants. Then it's Oh Teresa this is so dry oh Teresa it tastes like sawdust. Why else do you think I use box mix, eh? You want it from scratch and you want moist. ¡Manda Huevos!”

The diatribe kept Mom occupied while she finished pouring, so Astrid kept silent. Mom needed this. This wasn't something she can say in front of Letitia (resulting in another Sunday screaming match) or Dad (what would he do?) or Salome (no way would the kid ever take Salome, language! seriously again). Mom needed someone to have her back, no matter how silently or secretly. And that someone had better be her.

“If only Linda had stayed…”

Astrid froze. “What did you say?”

Mom looked up, blinked twice, then stiffened. “Nothing. Nothing.”

Silently, Astrid handed over the card she'd been holding, all this time. She found it while searching for her dad's treasured García Lorca poetry collection, hidden between a page that exalted love and a page that mourned loss.

Mom took it from her, her eyes widening as she read the words.

LINDA ORTEGA

and

DOMINIC SANDOVAL

request the honour of your company at their wedding.

“Dad always told us he was all Abuela has, right,” Astrid said, “The only Ortega for miles around."

Mom answered by busying herself with more activity than ever. Keeping the soaked cake in the fridge. Pouring the remaining milk mixture into two glasses. Washing her hands. Washing the dishes.

“I'll do that for you,” Astrid took a plate from Mom's hands, “Just talk to me.” She grabbed a sponge and dish washing soap, cleaning vigorously. “All this time, Dad's been telling us Abuela's the only family he has, Mom. Like, he has no one else. Like, we have no sisters or brothers besides the three of us. Was he lying?”

“You're wrong,” Mom said, her voice suddenly sounding sharper, harder, “Abuela's the only family he has left. Your father didn't lie.”

“Just omitted the truth, yeah,” Astrid wished she knew how she felt about this. Right now there was so much she was feeling that she didn't exactly know where to begin. “There's no “together with our parents” above their names either. Not like yours’.”

Mom sighed, picked the card up, then held up two glasses of milk-mixture in front of her. “Take one and give the other to your sister. I have a lot of work to do.”

On any other day, Astrid would have grabbed that glass and relished its creaminess, wiping the milk-moustache off her mouth with a flourish. But today no amount of sweetness was going to take away that weird metallic taste in the roof of her mouth.

“I'm not done asking about this,” Astrid said, scowling, “to you or to Dad. If I have aunts and cousins out there, that's something I wanna know.”

Astrid did try in the weeks to come. But she never saw the wedding card again, and neither Mom or Dad ever responded when she raised the topic again. Still. It felt nice to dream.

Every time Abuela made a snide remark at lunch, she imagined her cousins there. A snarky younger girl who’d make smartass comments. A strong boy her age who’d shut Abuela up with just a glare. A nice aunt who’d take Mom's mind off all this nonsense. It didn't help much, but it felt nice.

It felt nice knowing she had company out there. Somewhere.

6 years later.

“Donuts, Iowa?” Seth’s eyes were gleaming at the prospect. He was more a bag-of-chips kinda guy most days, but he also liked having massive sugar rushes before a comedy gig.

“As long as the insides of six of those are practically spilling over with fruit jam, I'm game,” she said, standing on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. It felt exhilarating, freeing. She hadn't felt this normal in a while - normal enough to kiss her boyfriend without worrying about paparazzo jumping out from a bush. There was a guy in a leather jacket she didn't recognize - three blocks across - looking at her like he wanted to talk, but not in a way that made her feel unsafe.

That was the nice thing about Northbridge. People looked, sure, but they were less likely to make you feel like an exhibit from a zoo.

“Wait here, yeah?” Seth said, planting a kiss on the lips instead, “I'll be back before you can finish spelling “OHIO” with your arms.”

Astrid laughed. Seth said the most Ohio things sometimes. Neither of them had had this much fun since she was offered a lead role in Tender Nothings, which was why Seth always jumped at a chance to take up gigs in Northbridge, and why he always offered to take Astrid along when she was free.

The guy from before stepped forward a few minutes after Seth entered the donut shop. The summer heat must have been too much for him - his leather jacket was now slung over his shoulders. “Um, hello. Astrid Ortega?”

He stood with his hands in his pockets, mouth pursed into a thin line, a tiny curl slipping carelessly from his hair and resting on his forehead. She caught a peek at the tail end of a bird tattoo (Owl? The tail looked pointy) on his left arm.

“Yeah,” Astrid said, wondering whether it was her or Seth he wanted to talk to, “but I don't know what your name is.”

“ Zigmund. Zig for short,” he replied, looking behind him from time to time, “My sister Lucy’s a big fan. Asked me to help her get an autograph from you.”

“Is she here?”

“Yeah. But she doesn't want to come out. She's shy.”

Ah. So that was the cherry-red blur barely hidden by that building. She learned long ago that no matter how friendly you appeared, your image would precede you and intimidate people anyway. Autographs were great, but somehow she didn't want to stop at just that.

“Would she come out now if I asked?” she gave him her sunniest smile, “Tell her I won't bite.”

Zig hesitated, then nodded. Astrid watched him walk to the other building, move his hands expressively as he tried to convince his sister to join him (from that angle he almost looks like Letitia, Astrid thought), and return with a curly-haired, starry-eyed teenage girl.

“H-hey,” she said, then blushed, clearly embarrassed by her nervousness. Silently, she hands over her autograph book. She keeps her eyes studiously away from Astrid's face. “I, um, I like mystery films, and I really, really liked Tender Nothings.”

A girl after my own heart. “Maybe you'll like Sunset Boulevard, then,” she said, smiling.

Astrid could have just signed and left it at that, but there was something about these two. Something about the way they stood together, or exchanged glances, or something, that reminded her of home. Which was silly. But it didn’t change the fact that she wanted to leave a good impression on them.

“What would you like to be when you grow up, Lucy?”

Lucy didn't miss a beat. “Ballet dancer. Like my brother.”

Astrid smiled, particularly at the look the girl gave Zig. Yes, she could see on second glance that even though some people would say he didn't have the body of a dancer, he held himself with a certain grace, a certain lightness that belied a stronger core. Hit by a sudden rush of inspiration, she quickly scribbled a little note to go with her signature, and asked Lucy to read it.

To Lucy and Zig, future (hopefully!) best ballet dancing duo in America. Be sure to save me a seat when you folks get famous. Love Always, Astrid.

“Wowwww,” Lucy whispered. Zig suppressed his smile, trying not to let how he felt show, and failed. A corner of his mouth lifted upwards, revealing an almost-invisible dimple.

The two left before Seth brought his box of donuts,but they thanked her at least thrice as they walked away.

“Wait till I tell Mom about this,” Astrid overheard Lucy tell her brother as they left, “I told you she'd be really, really nice.”

“You did,” there was a note of indulgence in Zig's voice.

"Ortegas all around the world. Wherever we're from, we're nice.”

Had Seth come out a moment later, Astrid would have probably walked up to them and asked. Perhaps asked them where they were from and their parents’ names.

But Seth was here, with donuts, and there was never a moment she could take her eyes off either.

“Do you know those two?” Seth asked her, passing her a tres leches cake donut that was claimed to be one of their best, “They looked familiar.”

“”No,” Astrid replied, closing her eyes in bliss. Mmmm. The treat was taking her back to Des Moines, back to home, back to her mother's little kitchen. “But I wouldn't mind meeting them again.”

#fanfic #red carpet diaries #the freshman #the sophomore #the junior #rcd mc #astrid ortega #seth levine #zig ortega #lucy ortega #seth x astrid #playchoices crossover #seth x mc #mc appreciation week

38 notes · View notes

honeydippedsunflowers · 4 years ago

Text

Reflecting .. 1:11 AM 1/24

This time last year was the start of my cut off venture. I’ve walked away from multiple situations and people that real life serve NO PURPOSE IN MY LIFEEEEEEEEEEEEE. NONEEEEEEE. Like bitch zip, nada. Idk where or when the realization hit but when it did it hit HARD. You know what I lied, having to cut off my bestfriend of 8 years triggered a fat epiphany. That of course was a hard decision that had to be made, but the circumstances around that entire situation lead me no choice but to skate from bitches. It took me, shit till this year to fully get over that “loss” . Everyone after that tho??? Oh felt like cutting butter with a knife lol. I mastered a fraction of detachment having to fully separate myself from her... me walking away from that friendship made it so fucking easy to walk away from shit I’m not fucking with. Truly changed how I move. I cared way to much for people, and overplayed my part never truly getting any reciprocation. What’s hella weird tho is I never looked for reciprocation, I more so wanted appreciation and recognition. I fought to hard to please folks lol, hoping for that exchange in gratitude, but it never happened. Niggas just kept taking and taking and taking and taking and taking.. and I damn near let them for a while. It got so bad to where I wasn’t even being asking about, if I was okay, if I had the headspace to deal with the load they were dumping on me... nothing. I was just everyone’s wallet, taxi, go to for help, go to for a release, and then back to their regular scheduled program... but as I said, I let it happen.. I sat there and was being mistreated and used, and allowed it... that’s my bad , and I’ll never play myself again... Baby now? Mfs luck to recieve a text back from me. Shit they luck if the text even go through ........ Idgaf if you broke down bad on your ass don’t got a pot to piss in and need dollar in change for the bus to get out the pouring rain..... bitch I ain’t got it .....

One thing I’m proud of is I didn’t let these ungrateful ass mfs change who I truly am. Im still that loving, giving, helpful spirit who’s loyalty to her people is solid and unmatched.... however I’m now stingy with who I give myself to and always making sure I’m straight at the end of the day. I let a lot of shit slide the last few years and it’s time I start snatching edges again. These bitches forgot I’m a Virgo 😂😂😂 and will real life cut you off, boss up on you, flourish and act like I never seen yo ass a day in my life. On some cold disrespectful shit lol Smh. Definitely tired of sugar coding and taking the high rode on you hoes. Next mf to ask for a favor without asking how I’m doing I’m asking for they fade period 😂😂😂😂💯 ol selfish ass bitch look this is why I’m mad mad tho!!!!! Lmao I been dealing with BAD ASS IMPACKED ASS WISDOM TEETH PAIN SINCE SEPTEMBER. BITCH ITS ALMOST FEBRUARY. Long story with that.. insurance couldn’t get me a appointment but ANYWAYS YEA I was in extreme ass pain man like I can’t even describe to you the piercing sensation of that shit but it’s tough, consistent and fucks with your brain. Lol bitches know I’m in bed sick and STILL hitting me up taking about “can you take me to the school to pick up the laptops they’re giving out” “ you wanna go out for drinks” “can you help me fill out my fasfa” “ Sammy just put her hands on me Qui help” BITCH YOU HELP TF 😂😂😂😂😂HOE IM SITTING IN THIS MF ROOM ABOUT TO RISK IT ALL CAUSE THE MEDS AINT KICKING IN FAST ENOUGH mf did you think about that before you hitting me up asking for shit?!?!?!??? Like bro I kid you not I was in bed for 4 months dealing with that crazy ass shit. Luckily the antibiotics cleared the infection so the pain is SO much lighter I’m so damn grateful 😭😭😭🙏🏽 surgery is on feb 12th, super excited to get that taken care of. But yea my whole ass point bringing up that example is that people are selfish, inconsiderate, and don’t give a fuck about shit you’re going through so don’t overplay your part. I’ve learned a lot simply by dealing with life and watching people’s reactions around me.

This year, I don’t aspire to meet new people or grow new friendships at all. I’m truly taking these moments in and appreciating my growth through detachment. I want to take some time to explore the energy and love I was so quick to share with others, and learn what it’s like to feel that loyalty for myself, to myself... In removing myself from situations that I have learned and grew from, I’ve gained love and acceptance in myself, I think that’s hella cool lol.

0 notes

raulsparza · 7 years ago

Text

Ghost Quartet 11/4/17

I can’t stop reliving every little bit of Ghost Quartet in my head so I figured I would share with everyone! I was sitting on a cushion on the floor, right in the middle across from Brittain and Gelsey.

-@louarn kept mentioning that the theater was in a random part of town and when we went into the lobby area outside the actual theater she said it was absolutely a liminal space. Then she saw the sign ‘part of ghost quartet takes place in complete darkness’ and was like where tf have you taken me. Quite a wonderful start

-I was sitting on my cushion, happily absorbing the atmosphere of it all, when suddenly Gelsey was right in my field of vision. I almost screamed. And then Brent and Brittain and Dave were all there too and I fully realized just how close they were and how small the space really was like wow my dudes. They all just walked out and poured whiskey for themselves and got ready to start.

-Dave’s pre-show announcement sounded just like the one he does on the McKittrick hotel live recording he’s just always awkward it’s wonderful. And I kept just having little moments of realization like oh Dave Malloy is here and talking and real. It was nuts.

-I don’t know was super sped up and I kept looking over to watch Brent absolutely kill it on the cello. What a star. And him and Dave kept making eye contact across the room. And Brittain and Gelsey are just ethereal human beings words can’t describe them

-It was probably just from the AC/not intentional but there was a tiny breeze in the theater that would ripple the hanging strings on the lampshade between Brittain and Gelsey and it felt perfectly spooky

So much more under the cut this is v long

-Brittain sounded so lost/annoyed/confused for the camera shop scene. Like absolutely a customer not wanting to deal with a store worker/a generally stressed human not wanting to be around others

-Brent shook his head back and forth a little to help emphasize his bear voice. I fell in love with him during this show. Its casual

-Starchild was surreal and I never realized Gelsey played the metallophone during it so that was neat to see!

-Subway was startling and scary. The floor vibrated and the sound grew and surrounded us and closed us in and I was shooketh

-There was a special mic for Lady Usher that made her sound ghostly and echo-y and far away and Dave probably also had an echo mic (though I couldn’t see him very well) (save for his fluff of hair bouncing when he moved) and it was so unnerving to hear all the reverberation/lingering sound in such a small space

-What the heck was soldier and rose omg! I don’t think Gelsey is real?? Her voice is so loud and clear and all-consuming she had no mic and no music and she just went for it like damn. She also kinda conducted herself using her fingers on her left hand which was adorable. Brittain’s flirtations were too much. I think my heart stopped.

-Gelsey scurrying around to hand out instruments during any kind of dead person was far too adorable. Shoutout to @louarn and @hawkeyeing for sharing their shaker and cowbell with me! Such a fun atmosphere to be a part of!

-Dave made sure all the instruments were collected ‘especially that big one (drum), get that out of here!’ and he put his hand to his ear really dramatically to hear brent playing Thelonious monk what a nerd, and then assumed his position in the front of the room for the astronomer. He sang it like such a full-of-himself fuqboi rockstar it was hilarious. At one point he did a silly riff that wasn’t on the album and I laughed quietly and he NOTICED and nodded his head and smiled

-before family meeting starts Gelsey poured dave a drink and brought it to him over at the piano and dave says ‘thank hon!’. And then brittain just haphazardly bangs her hands on her keyboard while shes ‘playing’ as Roxie. Brent was so flippant and annoyed. This will always be my favorite spoken scene in the show.

-Four friends was wild suddenly dave was placing whiskey bottles along the top of his piano that he then passed out to everyone. pouring myself a cup of whiskey in a tiny little theater while four beyond talented performers sang their hearts out was practically an out of body experience

-I drank my whiskey really slowly to savor it all. feeling the burning warmth in my chest was a welcome addition to the intensity of fathers and sons. Brent and dave brought drums to the middle of the room and slammed on them while glaring into each other’s eyes. Brittain and Gelsey each held mics for them. When Brittain and Gelsey sang about the man on the platform together Brittain looped her arm under Gelsey’s arm so Gelsey could continue holding the mic for Brent and her and brittain could sing into brittain’s mic together

-Gelsey sat with her legs up next to her for the beginning of tango dancer and then danced with her arms wrapped around her a little. She is a mesmerizing human

-Brittain and Gelsey dancing together during monk was so sweet. And seeing this played out live really helped me to solidify the understanding that Scheherazade is telling the story of parts of ghost quartet itself to Dunyazad, similar to how Edgar tells the subway story to Lady Usher in usher part 3

-Dave said lights out and then all the lights went out, save for the exit signs and a couple pieces of glow tape on the instruments and furniture (‘too many little lights’). I actually loved the glow tape because it was small enough that it would seem to vanish if you looked at it directly, and it would jump around as you moved your eyes. I also fully closed my eyes for a couple seconds to experience complete complete darkness

-all of side three was so haunting because every once in a while someone would be lit for a second with a distant light that made them kinda fuzzy with a ghostly aura. And sometimes there was a bit of an afterimage the second after the light disappeared. I don’t remember specifically when the lights came on because it happened so suddenly and intermittently, but I know that all in all it was a perfectly disorienting experience and I want to hug the lighting designer

-Prayer specifically was so chilling because I was so hyperaware of the gentle sound coming from every corner of the theater. I always wish that song was longer it’s so beautiful

-and then the lights came back on and brittain picked up her mic stand and moved directly! In front! Of me! for hero and geez I was not prepared for that to happen. I was stunned and starstruck and trying to hold back tears so I definitely looked like a mess and she was so beautiful and her voice was so full and then she cried for real and I just wanted to hug her omg. Also Gelsey plays accordion during this song?? I was so distracted by Brittain but then suddenly I saw an accordion in the background and like. alright. Classic dave malloy.

-@joannachristie got a drum during wind and rain and was kind enough to let me tap it a few times! And then Gelsey looked up and made direct eye contact with me and she picked up her metallophone and put it in front of me and crouched down to show me which key to play and I was in shock and disbelief and had so much fricken fun. It probably went on for like two minutes after they left the area

-Talked to everyone after the show and handed out letters to all of them and took pics. They are all such wonderful, sweet, genuine people. louarn went around telling them all it was my 21st birthday and they were all cute and excited for me

-Brent helped me pick out the best tee shirt size and he excitedly told me about cello techniques and I asked what he was using instead of his bow at one point and turns out he just uses a drumstick bc it’s easier during a transition lol. he has such a gentle speaking voice

-Brittain hugged me immediately after she found out it was my birthday and im pretty sure i left that plane of existence. I asked her what she was singing during Pearl’s death speech in usher part 3 and she said she switches it up each night, it’s usually some sort of folk song. She couldn’t remember the name of the song she did that night so she just started singing it! Directly to me! for like, a while! It was so beautiful I am so beyond blessed

-gelsey told me I could develop my own scream if I practiced (and I joked about not practicing enough) so now any time I scream, ever, it is dedicated to her

-while I was still standing with Gelsey dave leaned over to me, extended his hand for me to shake, and said ‘hey I heard it’s your birthday! Well done!’ he said well done a couple times. I couldn’t handle it then, and I can’t handle it now. Well done. Also he said he liked the dragonflies on my scarf im in love. We talked about moby dick a little and I just thanked him for like anything hes ever done ever

so thankful and elated to have been able to experience this incredible show

#ghost quartet #dave malloy #brittain ashford #gelsey bell #brent arnold #mine

54 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 7 years ago

Text

Church of the Poison Mind (Trixya) Ch. 7 - Dahlia

A/N:

SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO. I’ve been going through a lot of pretty heavy real life stuff, and have just basically been overwhelmed, but I am so OVERJOYED to be writing again! And I thank you so much for your patience in waiting for this chapter! Here’s hoping the final chapters follow in quick succession. Thank you so so so much for all of your kind words and messages, they keep me going!

ALSO I’M SO SORRY THIS ENTIRE CHAPTER IS JUST ANGST. You’re welcome. :)

I would not have made it through this chapter, or life in general, without my lovely lesbians DjoodiGarland and Matilda_Queen. Thank you for always being there for me and loving me through this. And to Rosie, my beautiful, sweet love. Thank you for everything, I don’t know where I’d be without you.

“What kind of daughter are you?”

There had been a lot of shouting those days, a lot of name calling, a myriad of misspoken insults that sank into her skin like injections of lost faith.

Trixie spent most of her time calling rental agencies, shaking her mother awake, getting turned down by realtor after realtor because she was, well, she was too young. And truly, how could she expect any respectable adult to take her seriously?

“You have to be at least 18 to apply.”

I’m not.

“Is this a prank call? Where are your parents, kid?”

Hell, if I should know.

”You have to file a credit report, first.”

What’s a credit report?

“Okay so, why can’t your mother come to the phone again?”

She’s ill.

”We’ll get back to you.”

No, you won’t.

Homeless. Trixie kept thinking, homeless . If it continues on this way, the sheriff will come and evict us and we’ll be homeless. Countless nights she’d lie awake, obsessively checking her emails, relentlessly disappointed, and she’d think homeless.

She’d stopped going to school, stopped trying to wake her mother in time for the truancy officers, in time for CPS, and family services. And nobody looked at her the same, they always held the same disgustingly patronizing eyes. Poor trixie, her mother doesn’t care, her mother can’t care, her mother had forgotten to care.

But still, they shrugged her case off. Afterall, there’d been no evidence of physical abuse. Trixie appeared well fed, well kempt. And this allowed for more time, for more phone calls and rejections. Allowed for more empty booze bottles and prescription refills, piling sinks full of dishes and dirty carpets.

And soon she found herself asking, “What kind of a daughter am I?”

—

“I’m very sorry, we… I should not have done this. It was inappropriate of me.”

“Katya…”

Through the fog of lost sleep and Russian folk flowing tinny through the car speakers, Trixie rubbed the sleep from her eyes, stealing glances from her seat on the passenger’s side. Katya’s eyes were narrowed and stolid as she drove, focused on the road, pale hair spilling out in heaps over her thin shoulders. And neither of them spoke, the ever-thickening gravity of the night before weighing on them like a fever dream. Trixie felt tender but weary, fearful. She wanted more, so much more than the situation could allow.

Somewhere, on some plane, Trixie knew that this was fleeting; that any feeling Katya might’ve held for her, couldn’t be sustainable. And she could feel the regret, hanging bitter in the air between them, that even though they hadn’t done anything measurable, it was the tenderness that stung the most. The cloying need for sweetness, need for more, contradicted by the wavering inability to act; but still, she yearned for Katya’s touch, for that laugh, and those wide, curious eyes.

The sun came into full view then, but the hour was still just as pale blue as the shine in Katya’s eyes. And as they pulled up to Trixie’s house, much to her surprise, Katya didn’t look over, but stayed steely, eyes cast over the dashboard. And Trixie sighed complacently, as the warmth had seeped out of Katya’s smile somewhere between Main street, and Beacon drive.

Trixie sat for a moment, quiet in her breathing, searching the side of Katya’s face, silently willing Katya to turn her head. Her sight followed the deep plunge of Katya’s cheekbones, down her neck, her freckled chest; and Trixie wanted nothing more than to reach out and let a hand fall to the back of Katya’s neck, but she resisted.

And just then, with a subtle haste, Katya sent her arm across the center console, over Trixie’s chest, and opened the passenger’s side door.

Confident there was nothing more to be said, she flipped a brief nod of thanks and turned in her seat to step down, but before she could, the light brush of Katya’s fingers found her cheek. And Trixie turned her head to meet Katya’s eyes, just as bright and heavenly as they were the night before, but riddled now with penitence. Trixie closed her eyes, leaning her cheek into Katya’s palm, a deep exhale leaving her like a calm under the waves. Softly, she opened her eyes, took in one last glance, and stepped out of the car, closing the door gently behind her.

Soon Trixie was watching Katya pull away, her car stalling at first, and then kicking up dust as it descended the graveled drive. A chill ran through her, smooth in the November air; and Trixie found herself, bleary eyed and sullen, missing the cardigan she’d forgotten in Katya’s back seat. All the while hopeful, incredibly hopeful, that its presence would carry Katya back to her.

With a forbearing sigh, Trixie carried herself up the porch steps and pushed through the front door. She entered, closed it quietly behind her, and tiptoed through the kitchen, kicking off her shoes by the basement door.

“Well, aren’t we getting in late…”

Trixie turned with a start, her heart skipping a beat. Kim was sat at the kitchen window seat, spooning heaps of sugar into a steaming mug of tea. And as the steam crept into the air, an image of last night’s coffee churned in the pit of Trixie’s stomach. Then she was desperate for it, remnants of that memory still latent on the burnt tip of her tongue.

“Or should I say,” Kim spoke again with a curt grin, “early? Given it’s 5am.”

“Okay, mom. I could ask you the same thing. What’re you doing here so early?”

“Waiting for you.”

“What, why?” Trixie chuckled, scanning Kim’s face.

Trixie crossed the kitchen floor and headed for the coffee maker, her hip brushing Kim’s protruding knee as she passed by. Her head ached with exhaustion, and while she was thankful for the comforting gurgle of coffee brewing, she felt irritable, raw; unsure if the coffee would help or hurt. Trixie laid her upper body over the center counter top, her elbows resting on the surface; and she closed her eyes, self-soothing, rubbing slow circles into her temples.

“So, you did forget?”

“Forget wh-” Trixie stopped, slowed, “oh, shit. Kim, I��m so sorry. I completely forgot we had- I just got so caught up in… wait, so you sat here all night… waiting for me? Why didn’t you just call me?”

“Well, no dummy, I’m not a freak. I woke up a little while ago. And I did call you, last night. But your phone was off.”

Trixie patted around her pockets, and upon finding her phone, ran her fingertips over the surface; the tips of her nails catching in the cracks of last year’s shatter. And while she powered it on, a soft silence hung in the air between her and Kim.

↳ Kim: hey, i just got in, pearl’s cooking again, im whispering tiny prayers for the safety of your kitchen. you leave school yet?

↳ 1 Missed Call: Kim

↳ Kim: Violet said she hasn’t seen you all afternoon, are you okay?

↳ Kim: say yes to the dress is starting in like 5 mins, do you want me to wait… or???? should I just assume I get to indulge in ALL of these facemasks by myself??

↳ Kim: yoooooo my skin abouta be TIGHT

↳ 6 Missed Calls: Caller ID Restricted

↳ Kim: ok it’s literally 1am, where tf are you????? im getting kind of worried here. ive had to stop violet from calling the police like 6 times

↳ 2 Missed Calls: Kim

↳ 11 Missed Calls: Caller ID Restricted

She shook a wave of anxiety and returned her gaze to Kim.

“I… I’m so sorry, I just, my-”

“You were with her again, weren’t you?”

“What?”

“Listen, I’m worried about you, Trix,” her tone softened, and Trixie met her gaze through clouds of coffee steam, “you-”

“Listen Kim, I’ve had kind of a shitty morning and it’s like dick o’clock and I really don’t have th-”

“You’ve just, you’ve been spending a lot of time with her, Trixie.”

“Excuse me? Are you policing who I spend my time with now?” Trixie said, still joking, but a little sharper than she’d intended.

Speech suspended for a moment as Kim drew in a long breath, and exhaled on a quiet sigh.

“Okay. First of all, chill. I just mean that… Listen, Trix, she seems sweet, she really does, but there’s some nasty stuff going around about her and I just don’t want to see you mixed up in that.”

Trixie could feel a bubbling heat rising in her chest, up her neck, spreading into a rouge across her cheeks. She poured the coffee into a mug, some splashing onto the countertop, and found herself rifling through the spice rack for cinnamon; she needed something to shake Katya’s impassivity, to bring her back to last night’s loveliness; but the scent alone burned Katya’s image in the back of her mind, a picture so clear of her face, so cold and distant.

She sipped slowly, cinnamon catching at the back of her throat, and somewhere in all of the coughing, Kim’s patronization had crept beneath her skin and set the surface ablaze.

“Honestly Kim, I love you, but it’s too early for this shit. And thinking about it now, literally none of this is even remotely your business. You don’t know anything about her,” Trixie said, biting. Her headache raged on, a sour pang radiating from the back of her neck. And she could tell she was overreacting, creating something out of nothing; but she couldn’t help but fall farther into it.

“Trixie, I’m your friend. I’m just saying, you always do thi-”

“Well, don’t just say . I’m stressed enough about this as it is, and I don’t need you, of all people, making this harder on me! You’re always on me about this kind of shit, and I don’t need it right now!”

“Wow, okay. You make plans with me. Break them. Fuck your teacher. And somehow, I’m in the wrong? Since when is carin-”

“I did not fuc- did you ever stop and think, for maybe even a millisecond, that the reason I’m spending all of this time with her is because you keep ditching me?”

“Trixie, do not put this on me. You always do this.”

“Do what?” Trixie snapped.

“You always turn things around on me! I’ve literally done nothing wrong here!” Kim stood then from the window seat.

“Oh, so it’s perfectly okay for you to promise me a ride, and then leave me stranded like three times a week, but the one time I make a human mist- “

“I’ve done so much for you, Trixie! This is not one human mistake . I knew you’d find some way to fuck this up. You know, I bust my ass day and night, and everyone fucking wants something from me. I give, and I give, and all you do is take,” Kim interrupted, throwing her hands into the air, and letting them fall hard to her sides.

Trixie watched the argument unravel from a space outside of her own body. She could see the anger leaving Kim in harsh waves; and though the salt water stung, stirred bitter words in her own mouth that threatened escape, she was able to rationalize, self sooth. She couldn’t fully give herself to the argument, knowing that this was long awaited for Kim, that maybe all the stress and chaos had finally gotten to her.

A person could only bend so far before it broke them, could only expend so much before they were due. And Kim, generous and giving as they come, had spent countless hours of her life twisting and contorting her time to fit the moulds of other people; but the words still hurt, still rang of distant memories of her mother’s disappointment, of rage and of acid.

“Fuck what up?” Trixie took a step back, her mind racing.

“Nothing, just forget it.”

“No, you have something to say, say it. You’re not my mother Kim, I don’t need you to take care of me.”

“Oh, that’s rich! You know, I might as well be your mother. Who the fuck do you think found you this place when your actual mother threw you out? Who got you the job you quit because it was,” Kim pulled her fingers into air quotations, “too much? Paid your rent when you couldn’t. Who busted her ass getting you into this school? You can’t commit to anything Trixie, and now, NOW, you’ve gone and figured out the ONE way you can fuck up school, too! I hope Katya’s worth it I really do. Because when administration finds out, you’re both fucked .”

A knot twisted tightly in Trixie’s stomach.

“Stop bringing her into this! You don’t know anything about her! Or me for that matter, clearly. But obviously , you have a lot to say,” Trixie said, almost shouting.

“You think she cares about you? You’re wrong, Trix. You need to grow up, really. She’s using you, just like she did Phi Phi. And when this all blows up in your face, like everything always does, you’re gonna come crying to me. And you know what? I won’t be here.”

Just then, a small noise from the staircase caught their attention. They turned their heads to find two thin figures perched at the top, eyes wide and watching. And Pearl opened her mouth to speak, but Trixie was out the door, leaving her coffee steaming on the counter.

—

Kim’s words, heated and stinging, followed her like a phantom down the darkened halls of her university. And while it hurt, ached a sore plight down the center of her chest, she knew that everything Kim said had been right. She’d been a bad friend, taken too much and given too little. And she could hear her mother’s words too, fresh as the day they were spoken, like silent criminals come to steal her composure.

Autopilot carried her to Katya’s class, wearing the same clothes as yesterday, in the same cracked makeup down her cheeks. Their eyes met and unmet constantly, knowing, each glance holding space a little longer than it should’ve. And Trixie felt as though she could cry at any moment, as the dull ache in her head echoed through the back of her skull, and the glaring need for escape ravaged all the spaces in between. She felt trapped, cornered, unable to escape Katya’s eyes; though she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to. She wanted someone to see her, that she was sure of. Someone to see passed the façade and tell her that it was all going to be okay; and she wanted that someone to be Katya; but some things just couldn’t be, and she was learning then, slowly but surely, that she had to make peace with that. Maybe they could come out of this on top, settle for glances and smiles, chats after class, and maybe, just maybe, Trixie could forget the rush. And if not forget, then settle for a dull ache of what could’ve been.

5 Missed Calls .

Class flew by in a blurred rush of muted anxiety, Trixie auto piloting her way through the motions, all the while hoping she could slip out near the end unnoticed; but much to her dismay, as Trixie had anticipated, the end of class found Katya beelining for Trixie’s desk, and any interaction between them became suddenly unavoidable.

“Listen, Tracy, I’m… I’m very sorry about last night, about this morning, I would never want to make you feel uncomfortable,” Katya started.

“Katya don’t, really. It’s fine, you haven’t don-”

“I think it would be… in better interest, if I didn’t drive you home anymore.”

“I don’t understand,” Trixie said, picking absently at the corner of her thumb nail.

“We can’t do thi-”

“We haven’t done anything.”

“You know what I mean.”

Trixie stood for a moment and let everything sink in, their eyes meeting.

Katya reached for Trixie’s left hand and brought it gingerly to her lips. So tender, so domestic. She placed a soft kiss on Trixie’s knuckle, then let their hands drift together to the left side of her chest. And through the cotton of Katya’s blouse, Trixie could feel the quick drumming of her heart, could see in her eyes a great fear, but also a great acceptance.

“I know,” Trixie said quietly, pulling her hand back.

She turned on a slow heal and started for the door; leaving Katya, small and teary eyed, stark in the middle of the room. And as Trixie stole a final glance, the light of the projector cast her silhouette like a specter across the back wall that sunk into the floor while the door swung shut behind her.

She’d only gotten a few steps down the hall before tears began spilling down her cheeks, probably carrying mascara with them. And Trixie blotted the space beneath her eyes, covertly avoiding eye contact with Jinkx as she passed her down the main hall just before the stairs.

7 Missed Calls.

—

She found herself outside then, heading toward the employee parking lot, under the usual tuck of trees that arched against the rain almost protectively overhead. Though many of the leaves had fallen and sunken into the grounds, there had been just enough to provide her shelter, and she stood for a few beats before realizing Katya wasn’t going to come; then again, neither would Kim. Trixie shivered as the cold hit her, her breath evident in the brisk, and she coiled into herself, wrapping her cardigan tighter around her hips.

She patted around her pockets and produced a crumpled twenty dollar bill, that she smoothed against her books and tucked into the side of her bra, the very last of that week’s allowance. While she scrolled through her phone in search of a taxi company, though they were sparse in these parts, she watched as cars puttered by her, subtly hoping to see Katya’s round the drive.

Before she could hit call, her phone lit up again, buzzing in her palm; a contact photo, her at a young age, eyes bright and glittering, a cheesy smile. And her mother, younger, less weathered, hair still long and curly, thin fingers pinching Trixie’s cheeks.

Until then, the calls seemed more like a minor nuisance, just a permanent fixture on the dashboard of her notifications, but now it cut deep; reminded her of all that she’d lost, all that she’d never regain. And she did something she hadn’t done in months, hadn’t done since Kim had found her and brought her here, she answered . And it went just as swimmingly as she might’ve guessed.

“I’ve been calling you for weeks,” a gravely voice slurred through the phone line.

“Are you, are you drunk?”

“What kind of daughter would ask that?”

Soon there was shouting. And Trixie lost all awareness of her environment, her surrounding; but she knew people were watching, she just simply forgot to care. And tears were spilling out of her, falling onto her shirt, tangling with the rain water washing down her skin.

The air was cold, her fingers red and pruning, phone pressed firmly into her cheek. Everything was spinning and far from sound, and as her mother continued her lamentation, Trixie grew more tense, more unabsolved. She felt trapped suddenly, by all of the forces outside of her own body, controlling her, prodding and pulling like the strings of a marionette. And she came to a startling realization; her life, wasn’t hers. This wasn’t what she wanted, this wasn’t who she wanted to be.

Before she could even hang up the phone, someone was tugging at her arm, pulling her gently from the rain, and from the watching eyes. Guiding her down into a car, her boots finding the comforting crush of empty coffee cups and to-go wrappers. And her phone found its way back into her pocket, as did her fingers, numb from the cold that she pressed into her thighs.

They drove in mostly silence, down familiar roads that were slick now with sleet. And the squeaking of the windshield wipers held an almost deafening stance against the silence.

“Tracy… Ar-”

“Please, Katya. Please , don’t.” Trixie said, drying her cheeks with the sleeves of her sweater.

“I’m sorry for what I said earlier, I just… You can still talk to me, you know.”

“No, I can’t. I really can’t.”

Just then, Katya pulled her car swiftly off of the road, hitting the curb and throwing the gears into park. She took off her seatbelt so she could turn to meet Trixie’s gaze.

“What are we doing here?”

“I want to talk to you. I want you to talk to me, there’s n-”

“You know what,” Trixie said, unfastening her seatbelt, “I really can’t. And you know damn well why I can’t.”

“I am not understanding this.”

“Because, Katya! I fucking want you, I want us, I want…” Trixie threw her hands into the air in exasperation, “this! And I’m so sick of everyone in my life telling me what to do, and who to be. Even you! Everyone is always… god, I don’t know! I’m so fucking overwhelmed all of the time by this expectation of who I’m supposed to be, how I’m supposed to act. I have never, ever, not once in my life, not had to fight for every single thing that I have and I’m sick of it. I’m my own person, we are both fucking adults and we can make our own decisi-”

Before she could finish, Katya’s hands were over the center console, pulling her face close, their lips finally meeting.

—

And suddenly her fingers are on me, in my hair, running down my neck. Our mouths meeting like it’s the first time, gliding swiftly over one another, melding us as one exchange of impassioned energy. And her breath is warm, and sweet, intoxicating . Everything I need. Devastatingly, so. From the light of the cars in passing, flickering across her skin, I can see every unspoken word, escaping into the expanse. She wants me, and I want her, and this may be fleeting but I’ve forgotten to care as her hands stroke passed my hair and down my back, sliding with a quick and heavy rhythm like she’s striking a match. Every ounce of angst in me cries out for her, yearns to be closer, to be deeper, to love long and speak sweeter. And I’m falling into her hard, like I’ve never fallen before-

—

Their lips parted as Katya pulled away with haste, her eyes squeezing shut.

“Trixie, Trixie, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have, we can’t do this!” Katya tensed, her accent thicker than ever.

And all of the spinning inside of Trixie stopped, her expression blank, eyes blinking quick and without rhythm. Her skin flushed, hot embers fading into gray coals.

“ Trixie ?” She said in a hushed exasperation, realizing that it was the first time she’d ever heard the name leave Katya’s lips.

“We can’t, I’m so sorry. I just, I care about you so much but we… we can’t Trix-”

“Why not? WHY NOT? You just said it, you care about me! Katya, please, not you too, you can’t do this to me, too. I can’t handle someone else telling me what I ca-”

“Trixie, please try and understand… I’m so so-”

“You know what. Save it. ”

And with that, Trixie was climbing out of the car, the garbage underfoot kicking out onto the sidewalk.

#trixya #dahlia #katya zamolodchikova #trixie mattel #angst #college au #dahliasforkatya #lesbian au #tw verbal abuse #tw mentions of abuse #rpdr fanfiction #submission #church of the poison mind

27 notes · View notes

pocket-jihope · 7 years ago

Note

also imagine pocket jihope going to the beach (aka pond) and freaking out 'cause hoseok can't swim

Thank you for the submission! (Wow, tf? How did this get so emo… again lol)

-Nefertiti

“This– This isn’t a pond. This is a freakin’ ocean, Jimin!”

“Well, you always said you wanted to visit the beach.”

“Yeah, a beach! You said we were going to a pond!”

“This is a pond!”

“No, this is a beach!”

“Then what are you complaining about, Hoseok!” Jimin was starting to get tired of this argument, dropping his duffle bag down on the grass.

“If you had said beach instead of pond I would have taken the past week to find my chill! But now I have none! I am not mentally prepared to go to a beach, Jimin! I need to center myself first.”

Jimin rolled his eyes as his tiny boyfriend plopped down into the grass, one hand clutching his chest as he exaggerated deep “calming” breaths.

Jimin coughed into his fist to get his attention. “If it makes you feel any better this is really a pond. I wouldn’t lie to you. Its just…” He looked his hyung up and down. “You’re so Small that this seems like an ocean. I’m pretty sure if we were Tall Folk we’d be able to see the other side just by standing up.” He reached a hand down to pull his boyfriend up. “Don’t worry. Your amazing boyfriend will protect you.”

Hoseok scoffed, sounding like he didn’t believe him one bit. “I do not need the saving, thank. I just need the chill. Just… Just give me a sec?”

Jimin nodded, letting him lay back in the grass and meditate or something. Meanwhile, Jimin unpacked their lunch he’d had in a hot-cold storage bag and laid a blanket down besides Hoseok. The younger sat down and started pouring out a large drop of sunblock until it covered all his skin, moving to do Hoseok next even though the elder didn’t open his eyes.

When he was done and Hoseok proclaimed his “state of chill,” the two moved to the edge of the pond in their swim trunks. The water was slightly green but twinkled alluringly in the summer sun. There was algae or moss or some other green substance attached to some of the larger boulders around the edge but Jimin skillfully guided his slightly shaking hyung around them safely.

“Babe? Why are you shaking?” Jimin had one hand gripping Hoseok’s elbow so he could feel the minute shivers wracking his body.

“N-No reason. Just cold.”

It was one of the hottest days of the year. Jimin’s raised eyebrows said as much. “No, really. I-I’m shivering, jiminnie. I’ll be better once I– Um, maybe if the water’s warm?”

“Hmm,” was Jimin’s only response.

With one foot into the water, Hoseok suddenly jerked back out of Jimin’s hold, watching as his younger boyfriend took another step, waist deep, until he stopped to look over his shoulder questioningly.

“Uh, yeah. Matter of fact, it might be warmer in the sun, so I’mma just…”

Before Hoseok could get more than five steps back on land, Jimin had splashed his way out of the water, grabbing the other Small Folk around his waist and hoisting him over his shoulder. “No, you don’t! We didn’t come all this way for nothing! I didn’t wake up at the crack of dawn to make sure you made my sandwich right just for us to not even work up an appetite swimming!”

Hoseok was squirming, squealing, and hitting Jimin on his back, demanding to be let down. He said something about youngsters not respecting their elders nowadays. Jimin wasn’t paying must attention; all he cared about was dunking his hyung into the water and having some flirty splash fights to lighten up the mood.

As soon as Hoseok’s head went under the surface Jimin’s smirk lit up his face.

When a minute went by and Hoseok’s head didn’t resurface Jimin’s face went dark.

Diving under the murky water, breath tight in his lungs, Jimin searched for his boyfriend. Hoseok was near the bottom, eyes closed, small bubbles escaping his lips. The water wasn’t even that deep but it was thick with pond plantae and Jimin had to move it out of the way to reach him.

Resurfacing, his hyung eerily still in his arms, Jimin felt his heart beating out of his chest. It was more than painful.

“H-Hyung! Hoseokie! Hoseok! Wake up!” He dragged their weight through the water until it was shallow enough to walk out to the bank. He deposited the unconscious man onto the grass and immediately titled his head back, pinching his nose and breathing air into his lungs before doing thirty quick compressions. “Come on, hyung! Damn it! Come on!” He repeated the procedure that he’d learned, never thinking he’d need it.

Finally, after around three rounds of this, Hoseok coughed, spilling pond water out and onto the muddy grass. His face was red, but his lips were gaining color so Jimin was able to breathe slightly easier.

“Ji–”

“Shh, don’t speak. I called someone. They’ll be on their way soon, okay? Just– Oh, gosh, just stay with me, Hoseok.” Jimin was crying and he couldn’t stop. He just needed his boyfriend to never be that still ever again.

Hoseok nodded before lifting a weak hand to push Jimin’s wet bangs behind his ears. He mouthed something.

It took Jimin a few seconds to make out the words but when he did he chuckled, a relieved sigh escaping his lips. He wiped the tears from his cheeks. “You’re right, hyung. I don’t wanna go to the beach anymore, either.”

#jihope #pocket jihope #jimin #park jimin #jhope #bts #bangtan #jimin scenario #jhope scenarios #bts scenarios #writing #answered

22 notes · View notes