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coeurdastronaute · 5 years ago

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Essays in Existentialism: Rivals II

Previously on Rivals

There really wasn’t anything to be nervous about. Why should she be nervous when she’d already spent two nights in the same bed as a complete stranger and player for the opposite team. That was weird, but going on a date was incredibly normal. It was the most normal part of the timeline of their entire flirtation, and yet, Clarke was slightly antsy.

The nerves might have stemmed from the lying.

It wasn’t really mentioned when her friends asked her what her plans were for the weekend. Vaguely, she insisted that there was some family stuff she had to do and kept out of the conversations about meeting up, much to the dismay of a few voices. But the lies were made easier by the proximity to winter break. If she told them what she was really doing, she’d never hear the end of it from Octavia, and that was a fight she didn’t want to have. She’d never get over Bellamy’s sad eyes. She’d have to listen to Raven rail about this and that, and why not avoid it if she could?

In the end, lying felt right and easy and when everyone gave up trying to figure out when she’d be able to do something, instead chalking it up to a complete family weekend, she relaxed.

Maybe her nerves stemmed from the intensive dive into Lexa’s scant social media presence, strictly for science.

The very night she got home from the state championship trip, she laid in her bed and did the only normal thing she could think of doing-- looking into a certain Lexa Woods, all while texting the star kicker deep into the night.

And though she didn’t find much, she did see that Lexa was too cute and it was going to be a problem. Candids taken by friends of her in weird positions, reading. With glasses. Adorable glasses. Pictures hiking with her family. Camping with her little brother. Volunteering at the Special Olympics. Record shopping. Camping. Running. Biking. Studying film. Dressed up for a family wedding.

It spanned her entire high school life, and Clarke learned that she was an outdoorsy person who seemed too good to be true. She had a crush on a stranger she slept with-- twice.

Yes, that was where her nerves came from, Clarke decided as she heard the doorbell chime downstairs before she gave herself a once over in the mirror while taking a deep breath. There was nothing to be nervous about, she chanted.

Except it’d been two weeks of almost non-stop texting and Lexa was funny and nice and sweet and a nagging part of her brain couldn’t let Clarke believe that this girl was real.

“I’m coming!” Clarke yelled down the steps as she hurried to the bathroom and quickly sprayed a dash of perfume from the tiny, expensive bottle her dad got her for her birthday.

She heard the rumble of voices downstairs and tried not to think of how embarrassing her father could possibly be. In record time she snagged her coat and phone, pocketing and tugging on as she hustled down the steps.

But handling it well enough, Lexa stood there, in Clarke’s house, in the flesh, real, alive, and in-person. Red letterman jacket folded over her arm, she stood there and listened intently to Jake Griffin talk about something before catching her date’s eye and smiling.

“I will have to check that movie out, Mr. Griffin,” Lexa nodded, tearing herself away from Clarke. “Thank you for the suggestion.”

“Okay, we’re heading out, Dad,” Clarke interrupted before he could start talking about something else. “I’ll be home later.”

“Not giving me much time to embarrass you, honey,” he chided as she leaned up to kiss his cheek. “I got distracted talking about movies.”

“An easy way to avert him. Nice work, Twelve.”

Lexa smiled quickly as Clarke came to stand beside her.

“I do want to hear some embarrassing things though. I’m sure we have ti--”

“Okay, we’re off,” she cut off the thought.

“It was nice to meet you, Mr. Griffin,” Lexa stuck out her hand and shook Jake’s. “I’ll let you know what I think of that film. I’m always looking for new favorites.”

“You won’t be disappoint,” he smiled, surprised by the action as she shook her hand. “Home by twelve at the latest.”

“What about one?” Clarke tried.

“Actually, I have to be home by eleven,” Lexa offered. “So unless you plan on bailing…”

“You know, eleven sounds so much better to me,” Jake grinned and looked at his daughter expectantly.

With a shake of her head and sigh, Clarke moved toward the door, Lexa trailing behind her and shrugging on her coat as the moved out into the cold. The patriarch of the small family stood behind the glass and watched them hurry to hop into the still-running car in the driveway. It wasn’t that he truly trusted anyone that took his daughter out on a date, but something about Lexa seemed okay enough for him to not worry as much, which was surprising for someone with a letterman jacket.

But he waved as they pulled out into the street and he smiled, the faint remnant of the perfume he bought for his daughter for her last birthday still lingering on the stairs.

XXXXXXXXXX

As much as she told herself that she wasn’t nervous, that it was pointless to worry about it, that Clarke obviously liked her enough to make out with her in a hotel bed, twice, Lexa still felt a little nervous about their first official date. She did a valiant job in pretending though.

But then she saw Clarke and she relaxed, despite the fact that her heartbeat picked up by about half. It was baffling and she wasn’t sure what it meant, but she didn’t waste any time thinking about it too hard.

“I can’t believe I’ve never been here before,” Lexa smiled as they pulled up to the museum parking lot. “My brother has a thing for museums.”

“Now I get to spoil it for you so when he drags you here eventually, it’ll be old news.”

“You know, you haven’t insulted me once since I picked you up.”

“Can’t let them go to your head,” Clarke grinned and waited, sticking her hand out for her date to grab so she could lead her into one of her favorite places in town. “Your ego is already monstrous after winning a championship.”

“Did you know I get a ring and everything? The lunch lady gave me an extra cookie the other day, too.”

“What a life you lead. And here I am, taking up your time when you could be basking in the glow of being the city’s golden child.”

“Not this town,” she murmured, feeling slightly out of place in her jacket.

“Don’t sweat it. You’re with me, Woods.”

It was a baseless sentence and in no way did Lexa imagine that Clarke ran her town, but there was something to her confidence and ease that made her want to believe it without question. Clarke was easy that way-- just constantly moving and pushing and remaining undaunted, it felt like. Through their late night chats, she’d learned that Clarke really figured out that she didn’t like a lot of who she was over the past few years, and was restarting, with purpose.

Lexa wasn’t sure what it all meant, just that Clarke was honest and fun, she was unpredictable and passionate, and most importantly, she was fiercely independent.

Somewhere between the paintings of the boats and the ones that were just lines, Lexa felt Clarke’s chin on her shoulder and the proximity of their bodies as they walked through the massive rooms, perusing and joking, appreciating and debating, predominantly disappearing into themselves without a care for anyone else in the place.

Somewhere between the busts and the installation art, Lexa kissed Clarke’s cheek and held her hand a little tighter, occasionally pulling her own behind her back to pull Clarke closer to her side.

And at the end of the night, after dropping Clarke off and getting a kiss for her troubles, Lexa smiled and replayed the entire date in her head on the drive home.

XXXXXXXXXX

Despite the normal festivities of the holiday season combined with winning a championship and having many more friend obligations to attend with, Lexa ignored what she could and spent her most of her break driving back and forth to the rival town to see a certain cheerleader who like to kiss her and sometimes slip her hand up her shirt. And she liked returning the favor, hence the driving and hosting.

But between the family and the girl and break homework, Lexa was sure to spend time preparing for her soccer season. That was a point she made because she sure as hell wasn’t going to only get scholarship options for one season in a sport she didn’t truly love.

There was a schedule and Clarke fit into it all, much to Lexa’s relief.

“You have to head home soon,” Clarke whispered, though her lips moved to capture the kicker’s once again.

“I can push my luck a little bit. Your dad likes me.”

The scoff was cut off by a low moan as Lexa let her hands get a little more brazen than they’d been before. She was fueled by the fact that they were busy and school was starting again and she wouldn’t know how long until she’d see Clarke again. That and the delectable little noises coming from beneath her.

“You should leave, before I make you stay.”

Lexa smiled against Clarke’s neck and bit there before pushing her thigh harder into her center, earning a shift of hips. Fingertips dug into her neck and she sighed at the sensation. She wanted more time. She wanted to pause everything.

“You feel so good,” Lexa whispered.

“We should see each other again.”

“I’d like that.”

“You’ll let me know when you get your schedule for soccer?”

“You’ll be the first to know. I’d like my own cheerleader,” Lexa smiled, kissing toward chest. “And as my girlfriend, you get the perks of wearing my jacket and old jersey whenever you’d like.”

“Girlfriend, eh?” Clarke adjusted so that Lexa hovered over her. She cocked her head and smiled before pushing hair away from her eyes. She loved Lexa’s green, and how deep and expressive they were if you were smart enough to pay attention.

“Yeah, well. If the letterman fits.”

“I do look cute in it,” she shrugged, smiling enough with a dimple and all.

“Much better than me.”

“I can’t go wearing it at school. That’d be the end of me.”

“I suppose we should talk about being star-crossed and such, since we’re heading back to the real world.”

Clarke groaned a complaint and hugged Lexa toward her tighter.

“What is there to talk about? My girlfriend goes to a different school.”

“It’s adorable how you think it’ll be easy.”

“You’d be amazing at how good I am t being difficult.”

Despite herself, Lexa chuckled and shook her head before kissing Clarke’s cheek and jaw and nose. She finally pushed herself away.

XXXXXXXXX

The fall out was… biblical, in a way that Clarke never fully expected. It seemed insanely trivial for her to develop a crush on a person that could develop so much ire from her entire world, but she bore the brunt of it with a flippant disregard to such ridiculous stigmas.

The worst of it was Octavia, fiercely loyal to her team and her school and most importantly, her brother. The news worked its way through the friend group, debated and marvelled over for a few days before it became old news. It was a novelty and for a while Clarke fielded their questions and took their taunting well enough.

It wasn’t until spring that Clarke finally blew up, lashing out at Bellamy, Octavia, Murphy, and a few others who were still bitter about their lost. It ended with her scolding their pitiful performance and childish behavior. It didn’t really help, but she certainly felt better.

“Good job! Nice kick!” Clarke cheered from the bleachers amidst the large crowd in the waning evening light.

“Oh now you’re a cheerleader,” Octavia rolled her eyes and scoffed from a few rows away.

Clarke grit her teeth and shook her head before focusing back on the pitch as number twelve streaked down the field, maneuvering quickly through defenders. She shoved her hands into the pockets of the jacket for the opposing team and smelled a hint of Lexa on the collar still, vowing to give it back to her for a few days to get more of it back.

Unsure of if the booing spurred her or the fact that her girlfriend was watching, but Lexa and her team won by a wide margin, which was gratifying to the singular fan in the audience.

“Hey, Twelve, you looked good out there.”

“Oh thanks. Just showing off a bit for you,” Lexa grinned, hanging on the railing of the bleachers as she watched her red jacket walk towards her. “Thanks for coming.”

“Couldn’t miss it. Hottest seat in town.”

“I have to get on the bus in a few…”

“Can’t waste time then,” Clarke grinned, jumping off the final step and wrapping her arms around the sweaty soccer players neck.

In a second, she was kissing her girlfriend and smiling, content with the glares she knew she’d be getting from the peanut gallery.

“You should come over this weekend. There’s a great movie playing at the Local, and I could be persuaded to take you for dinner.”

“Persuaded, huh?”

“Mmhm,” she nodded, setting her girlfriend down.

“Do you want to meet my friends?”

“I think I’ve met some of them,” Lexa looked at the gaggle that followed. “Hi.”

“Guys, this is Lexa,” Clarke offered as she turned around and found the rest of the group. “Lex, this is Bellamy, his sister, Octavia, Raven, Murphy, Monty, and Madi.”

A small chorus of hellos greeted her as she lifted her hand awkwardly.

“Sorry about making that field goal. I can honestly say I didn’t mean to, and it just kind of happened.”

The crowd relaxed slightly and mingled about with some small talk before the coach called and Lexa looked over her shoulder, realizing it was time to leave.

“I’ll see you Saturday, if that’s okay?” Clarke asked, walking with Lexa toward the bus.

“Did I do well enough with the friends to earn a date?”

“You did. I do have to spend Friday with them though to make up for it, but yeah, I’d say you’re okay.”

“Am I going to have to see them more?”

“Definitely.”

“Whatever works.”

“Here,” Clarke shrugged off the coat. “I need you to break this in again for me. I lost your smell.”

“Can’t have it not smell like Ireland looks, I guess.”

“Shut up.”

With a shove and a kiss, Clarke pushed Lexa toward the bus.

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mhdiaries · 4 years ago

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Freaky Fusions Neighthan Rot Diary

6/14

I must be the clumsiest zombicorn in the entire monster world. Granted I’m the only one, at least the only I know of, as far as I can tell. My dad said if he would have had any idea I was going to be so clumsy, he would have named me “Trip”. Lucky for me, I have a built-in first aid kit in the form of my horn. It works great when it comes to healing physical bumps, bruises and scrapes, but no so much for emotional ones. I think that’s why I want to be a psychologist so that I can help monsters feel better from the inside out. Definitely have enough experience seeing how hard it is for a monster when they don’t have someone they trust that’ll listen to what they’re going through. I know it’s a lot more complicated than that, but it’s easy to feel alone when you don’t think you’re being heard.

6/17

I filled out my application for Monster High today and was surprised to find a section that asked me to talk about my family scaritage. I was hesitant at first, but when I talked to Mom and Dad, they told me “just tell the story.” Of course, they each have their own version of the story. Dad said to make sure I used his vision, which made Mom roll her eyes. Dad was an art major in college, and one of his class assignments required him to sketch illustrations of wild unlife. He says he was so stealthy that he was able to sneak up on any creature in the forest and draw for hours without ever being noticed. Mom says she always knew Dad was coming, because she could hear him tripping over, under and through every vine, branch and twig in the woods. She said that the only reason Dad was able to sketch “unnoticed” was because she told the woodland creatures that she sensed Dad’s heart was pure and kind, so they just ignored him. Dad said he always felt “watched” when he was there, so he started having “conversations” with his watcher. They were all one-sided, but Mom said Dad talked about his unlife, his hopes and screams, and he was funny. Mom started looking forward to Dad’s visits and debated about coming out of hiding, so he could see her, but always talked herself out of it. Then one day, when he sat down to draw, he said, “My class is ending, and I won’t be coming back. Thanks for keeping me company all this time, and I drew something for you.” The sketch that Dad held up was of a unicorn. Over time, and without realizing it, Mom’s shyness had been overcome by Dad’s kindness and good humor; so much so, that each time he visited, she hid less and less. Dad never let on that he could see her though because he was afraid she would run away and never come back. So Mom, who can transform into a two-legged creature at will, walked out and sat next to Dad. They have been at each other’s side ever since.

6/21

I got a text today from Sirena, asking if I would meet her at the Coffin Bean to talk about something. I think she purposely kept it vague, because she has many “somethings” floating around in her head, and she’s never sure which one it is she wants to discuss until she’s literally hovering in front of you. Not that it bothers me, it’s just who she is. Also, if she gets distracted, which happens, you’re not left on the hook worrying about a specific problem she might be having. While I was waiting for her, a group of high school ghouls came through the door. They were laughing and being silly, which caused me to look up from the book I was reading just in time to catch the eye of the most beautiful ghoul I have ever seen. She had black and white streaked hair pulled up in a pony tail – I love that look – pale mint green skin, and matching neck bolts. It was her eyes that I got caught in though, one blue, one green, and both totally electric. I think we both realized we were caught in each other’s sightline at the same time, and we quickly looked away. She was with a mummy and werewolf ghoul, but I don’t remember much about either one of them. It was like a music video, where everything slows down and fades into the background except the star. I couldn’t decide whether to introduce myself or run and hide. I though that I would wait until they sat down, but they grabbed their order to go. I had this moment of panic that made me feel like if I didn’t follow her out and get her name and number, I would never see her again. Only I didn’t follow her, I just sat there like a gargoyle on a wall and watched her leave. But as she was leaving, she turned and looked back like she had forgotten something, our eyes met briefly again, it may have been just my imagination or a trick of the light, but it looked like a little spark leapt off her neck bolts. Then she was gone, and I missed my chance. I don’t even know if she lives around here. Maybe, she was visiting or from another country, or if she does live here, I’m sure she must be dating some manster that’s the captain of the football team or something. How could a ghoul like that not be? I don’t know the answer to any of these questions, and now I probably never will but if I ever do see her again, I promise I will, find out. As for Sirena, she did show up, but whatever that “something” was she wanted to discuss I don’t remember a word of it.

7/10

I went to the movies with Avea and Bonita last night. Sirena was supposed to join us, but didn’t show until we got to the Die-ner after the show. I wasn’t that excited about the film, but I was hoping maybe I’d see the ghoul from the Coffin Bean at the theater, but I didn’t. I was thinking about going home after the movie instead of to the Die-ner, but the ghouls wanted to talk about MH. They don’t think we’re going to get in, but for some reason I do. Maybe, I’m just being naïve, or maybe I think we deserve something clawsome to happen to us.

7/12

I called Monster High today to see if I could meet with Headless Headmistress Bloodgood. I had a speech all memorized to try and talk my way past her secretary and onto her calendar. My speech was completely thrown off though, when the headmistress was the monster that actually answered the phone. I kind of panicked and said, “My name is Neighthan Chance and I would like a Rot to talk to you about… ummm…” There was silence on the other end of the line, and I thought I either heard a cough or a laugh, and she said, “Mr. Rot, my calendar is open for this afternoon, so why don’t you come in and see me at three.” I got there at two and paced back and forth in front of the school for about twenty minutes, when I heard someone calling my name, “Mr. Rot, do come in before you wear a moat into the front lawn.” I looked up to see Headless Headmistress Bloodgood standing at the top of the school steps. I went up the steps two at a time, and naturally, I tripped, landed hard and skinned my arm from wrist to elbow. HHB offered to take me to the nurse’s office, but I just used my horn and healed the scrape. If she was the least bit surprised, she didn’t show it. We sat in her office, and I talked while she mostly listened. First off, I told her that I was there of my own accord and that the ghouls didn’t know about it; that I just wanted to ask her to give Sirena, Bonita and Avea’s applications special consideration. I told her about their backgrounds and their friendship and their parents and that even though Sirena, Bonita and Avea had been to a bunch of different schools, it didn’t mean that they were troublemakers. I said they’d never gotten the chance to go to a school where the inner monster was more important than the outer one, and that I believed things could be different here. HHB took her head off and put it on the desk. “I’m curious to know why you think that,” she asked. I thought for a moment and finally said, “Because that’s the foundation of Monster High is built upon, isn’t it? That it doesn’t matter who your parents are, or what kind of monster you happen to be, and you don’t just say it. You unlive it.” HHB put her head back on and leaned back in her chair. She then said, “What about yourself then, Mr. Rot? Do you not wish to be a student at Monster High?” I told her that I did, but that I didn’t want to take a spot that could go to one of my friends. After I finished my plea, the headmistress furrowed her brow and leaned forward, “That’s very noble of you, Mr. Rot, but why do you assume that you’d be accepted, either?” I must have looked totally shocked at the thought of that possibility, then her eyes lit up and she smiled. “Relax, Mr. Rot, I was only teasing. You are a very earnest young manster with what appears to be a genuinely compassionate heart. That aside, you need not concern yourself with sacrificing your spot for one of your friends – at Monster High, space will be made when space is required.” I sat back in my chair and breathed a little sigh of relief. We talked a little while longer, and then, as she walked me out, I saw a picture on the wall of the MH Fear Squad. They were doing a pyramid, and at the top was the ghoul I saw at the Coffin Bean. My heart almost jumped out of my chest, and I asked, “Who is that?” HHB told me her name was Frankie Stein. “You two should meet someday,” she said. “I think you’d find you have much in common.” It was a nice thing for her to say, but how could I have anything in common with perfection?

7/30

I got my letter from Monster High today. By the time mine was delivered, Bonita, Sirena and Avea had all gotten theirs and called to give me the good news. I opened mine and stopped reading after “We are delighted to inform you…” I’m in. We’re all in. We made it… we made it.

#monster high #monster high diary #freaky fusion #neighthan rot

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surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

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Survey #328

okay i’m going the fuck to bed now. @_@

Have you ever worn fake eyelashes? No; the only time I ever will will possibly be my wedding, if even then. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I think I'm capable, but I don't believe it will happen. Who’s the last person you video-chatted with? My therapy group via Zoom. Do ski lifts make you nervous or do you like them? Never been in one, but they seem cool. Have you ever had dandruff? I have dandruff AND a dry scalp. Nice combo. Do you think sleeve tattoos look trashy? Please explain to me how ANY tattoo inherently equates to being "trashy." I actually love sleeve tats. Have you ever gone through a phase of crushing on EVERYONE? No. I experienced a few crushes my freshman year of high school, but they weren't just anybody. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? I may or may not get a tattoo of Darkiplier doing his i c o n i c debut smile somewhere, but idk. I already have one tattoo related to Mark and would kill for another with his handwriting, so having three would be a bit... wild, haha. Do you have any stickers on any of your electronic devices? No. Do you like the smell of men’s colognes better than woman’s perfumes? Usually. Can you remember what you last clapped for? Yes; everyone in group clapped for one of the women taking a big step against her agoraphobia. Is your hair damaged? No, it's actually super healthy. Are you in charge of cleaning anything in your household? The litterbox and my room in general. Ever carved/written anything on a park bench? No. Most interesting place you’ve ever visited? Chicago was a big shock to me. I am FAR from used to cities that incredible and stocked. Do you keep your eyebrows more thick or thin? I don't groom them, so they're on the thicker end. Do you always wear a bra? Not at home and if there's no company. Do your shoulder blades protrude? No. Have you ever won on one of those grabber machine things? Yeah, a few times. Are you gonna French kiss your hubby at your wedding? Who says I'm marrying a man? But whatever, no. Keep that behind closed doors. How many bananas have you ever eaten in a row? No more than two. I usually don't even have two. Have you ever had sex outside? No. Have you ever been outside naked? No. Have you ever been in a shrubbery maze? No. You ever like someone who liked you back, but didn’t want a relationship?: That's pretty much where I'm at now. Have you ever fallen for someone who didn’t feel the same? No. Are you financially stable? No. Mom can barely afford rent right now; I had to pay it last month with gifted money. Are you emotionally stable? hunny Do you think kids these days are growing up too quickly? I kinda think so, yeah. It's funny how different kids are now compared to when I was whatever age they are. I try to be open-minded about it, though; times change, and I don't expect my generation to be the only "right" way to have grown up. I just think kids are chasing the power of "maturity" with much more vigor. Are you a rebel? Not really. Do you like when people use proper grammar on the Internet? Yeah. I like conversing with people who type just how they talk, like me. Have you ever driven or been a passenger on a motorcycle? Neither. I don't want to ride one. Do you use standard time, or 24 hour time? Standard time. Do you enjoy NASCAR? "HE'S MAKIN ANOTHER LEFT TURRRRRRN!" Lol no, I really don't. Who is the most fascinating person you’ve met? Probably Sara, honestly. What amazing adventures have you been on? What's this "adventure" you speak of? What would you do if had enough money to not need a job? Lots of traveling with my camera, still selling art anyway. What TV series do you keep coming back to and re-watching? None. What would your perfect vacation look like? Y'know, one of those glass dome ceiling cabin... things in the mountains with Sara would be so, SO cool. So much nature for us to explore. What are some obscure things that you are or were really into? Most of my interests honestly, haha. The strangest is probably "vulture culture," in which the remains (typically the bones) of a naturally deceased wild animal are basically recycled for some sort of artistic purpose. You could consider my roadkill photography an example. What are some things everyone should try at least once? I dunno, man. Depends on what you're into. What would your perfect morning be like? Cuddles with an s/o watching some funny videos or something like that to get in some morning laughter. What are you always game for? Video games, haha. What do you do to unwind? Watch YouTube. What’s your favorite piece of furniture you’ve ever owned? I don't have a fave. What would be the best city to live in? I don't want to live in a city. What would you like to know more about, but haven’t had the time to look into it? Time isn't an issue; I just haven't. There's lots of stuff. I'm a very curious person. How have you changed from when you were in high school? I'm less depressed, but more confused, scared, and much less motivated. Imagine a chicken wandering around with its head chopped off. Where is the most fun place around where you live? Nothing, really... Where would your friends or family be most surprised to find you? Like, a strip club or something. What’s expensive but totally worth it? This depends on what's important to you. For me, a quality DSLR camera. When do you feel most out of place? Whenever I'm some place fancy. What’s the most recent thing you’ve done for the first time? No idea. What small seemingly insignificant decision had a massive impact on your life? Accepting Jason's friend request on Facebook because I thought it was a different Jason I actually knew. What did you do last summer? Nothing, just stayed indoors trying not to melt into a sizzling puddle. What are you most grateful for? My mom. What’s the most essential part of a friendship? Trust, maybe. When was the last time you walked for more than an hour? Many, many years ago when I used to walk outside for hours with my iPod. All modesty aside, what are you better at than 90% of people? It doesn’t have to be useful or serious, it can be something ridiculous. 90% is a lot, man. Maybe bonding with animals? What’s the strangest phone conversation you’ve ever had? I don’t know. What do you like but are kind of embarrassed to admit? If I'm embarrassed by it, I have no interest in sharing it. What skill or ability have you always wanted to learn? Even just a smidge of social skills. What’s the best meal you’ve ever had? Probably the spicy shrimp fritas at Olive Garden. I adore those sooooooooo so much. Where was your favorite place to go when you were a kid? The zoo. We didn't go often at all, but I would frequently nag Mom about going. What’s something that most people haven’t done, but you have? Fed a freshly severed rat to a vulture. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ I wanna go back to that bird rescue... What says the most about a person? How they treat others. What machine or appliance in your house aggravates you the most? The dryer. It can take a few rounds to fully dry something. What places have you visited that exceeded your expectations? Chicago, that I actually remember. Disney World probably did, but I was just a little kid and only have faint memories of the trip. What’s the worst advice someone has given you? I don't know. Besides your home and your work, where do you spend most of your time? People leave their houses? What are your top 3 favorite things to talk about? Mark, meerkats, and video games. When you were a kid, what seemed like the best thing about being a grown up? No one could tell me no for "stupid" reasons. What’s the strangest way you’ve become friends with someone? Strange way? I haven't got a clue. What’s your favorite band NAME (not necessarily your favorite band)? Maybe Cradle of Filth. Badass metal name. There are a lot of good ones, though. What’s your favorite thing to do outdoors? Take pictures of flowers or animals. How often do you dance? Silly/ironic dancing counts. Essentially never. Who besides your parents taught you the most about life? Jason, I guess. What’s been the most significant plot twist in your own life? The breakup that I thought was physically impossible, entirely unfathomable. Where did you take family vacations to when you were younger? We didn't really go on vacations. If you could instantly receive a Ph.D. in any discipline including all the knowledge and experience that goes along with it, what would your Ph.D. be in? Biology. What are the top three social situations you try to avoid most? Anywhere where I have to speak publicly; parties/get-togethers involving people I don't know; anywhere that is extremely crowded. Just social situations in general, really... What friendship you’ve had has impacted you the most? My friendship with Sara. What’s something you’re interested in that most people wouldn’t expect? Uhhh I don't know, really. What’s the hardest you’ve worked for something? My recovery from the breakup. What took you way too long to figure out? The only person who had any right to control my happiness and will to live was myself. What nicknames have you had throughout your life? If you include online ones as well, there's Britt, Britt-Britt, Twinkie, Bee, Flower, Ruby, Mozart2, Ozz(y), Alessa, and uhhh... I wanna say that's it? What do you do differently than most people? I deconstruct my breakfast biscuits to eat one part at a time... haha. Where’s the last place you’d ever go? Prison. What fact floored you when you heard it? That my dad did some hard drugs before us kids were born. I was entirely speechless. Have you ever watched a needle go into your own skin? Yeah, it doesn't bother me. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? No. Does weed smell good? Or no? Ugh, no. It smells awful. Do you blow dry your hair or do you let it air out? Air dry. Do you catch lizards? No; I don't like the idea of catching wild animals just to pick up and check out. That poor critter is terrified. I'd rather just take pictures of it and let it go about its day. Would you rather get a big tattoo or small tattoo? I want my next tattoo to be a big'n. How many pills do you take every morning? I absolutely do not want to count. A whole lot. What was the last parade you went to? /shrug What theme would you choose for a baby’s nursery? If I was hypothetically having kids, let's see. A son, absolutely dinosaurs. A daughter, maybe meadowy with baby animals. My baby blanket was full of baby animals, so it'd be kinda cute, that connection. What color would you paint a baby girl’s nursery? Not because of gender norms, but by personal choice, pastel pink. Does your first crush know that he/she was your first crush? No. What is the last thing you missed out on that you wanted to go to? Hm. Who do you wish were your best friend? I am perfectly happy with who already is my best friend. Who do you wish you could go on another date with? She knows. Who was the last friend of yours to have a baby, and what’s the baby’s name? I'm not sure, but my high school friend Megan is due to have her daughter Persephone soon! She won the naming game. Like damn, how badass would it feel for your name to be Persephone. Do you have a favorite M&M? Just the classic ones. Is it easy to make you cry? OHHHHH YES IT IS. Have you ever snuck out? Nah. Who was the last person to comment you? On Facebook? My friend Lyndsey commented on a photo I shared. What song reminds you of being in middle school? "All Signs Point to Lauderdale" by A Day To Remember is the anthem for going through puberty in school and trying to figure yourself out. What was the first thing you learned how to cook? Scrambled eggs. What’s something really basic that you’re terrible at? Cooking. Are you pale or tan? I'm very pale. When’s the last time you were kissed? On the lips, like two or so years ago. Do you like the movie Grease? Never seen it, actually. What’s your favorite Jim Carrey movie? The Mask, probably. What was the last baby animal you saw in the wild? I think a fawn. Have you been binge-watching any shows lately? If so, what? No. What’s the best physical feeling in the entire universe? I meeeaaan... Do you have bad anxiety? If so, do you take any kind of medication for it? Yes and yes. If you could, would you work from home? Do you think that would make you more or less productive? Well, it's complicated. I don't, but I also want to be a freelance photographer, so I kinda would. I like the idea of having an office in my house purely for productive activities to prevent becoming lazy because I'd be at home. Would you ever be an organ donor? I am one.

#survey #surveys #questions

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k-knightt-blog · 6 years ago

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My Family - Tom Hiddleston one-shot

Request: Hello sweet angel child! Sorry to bother you bit I would like to make a request. The reader is a single mother of a 5 year old daughter and dating Tom Hiddleston. One day the biological father shows up and is being aggressive and Tom gets extremely protective over his girls.

Warnings: Mentions of abuse

Wordcount: 2,400+

A/N: Feedback is massively appreciated!

True and pure warmness fills your heart as you look out over the scene playing out before you. You’re standing against the kitchen island, cradling a coffee in your hands, a coffee that Tom had prepared for you. Tom and Agatha are sitting around the table, mindlessly drawing in one of her colouring books. You want to take a picture of this moment and frame it, so that’s what you decide to do. You reach for your phone in your back pocket, positioning it so that you caught the entire scene. The two doodlers didn’t look up from their drawings, and you let your gaze look at them lovingly for a few seconds more.

Tom came into your life when Agatha was only 2. That was nearly 4 years ago now, time really flies. You were young when you had her, but there wasn’t a question whether or not to become a mother. You had always wanted children, but not six months after graduating from university. And in your dream, your child’s father wasn’t an abusive-self-centred-arsehole. It was all worth it though, you would have gone through everything again for her.

You worked in production when you happened upon Tom. You were late one morning because Agatha had been sick for days, and you had to drive her over to your mother's house on the other side of London. With droopy and tired eyes you had wandered into the AD’s office, and Tom had been sitting there. His conversation with the art director and producer stopped in its tracks. They all greeted you in a normal manner, but Tom stood up and introduced himself and took your hand in his with the most utmost care, and kissed the top of it. He was the most beautiful soul you had ever met, and he adored you from the first second.

He kept his distance since you also did, there was a clear attraction between you two but no words of affection spoken. It took a few weeks for you to open yourself up to the possibility that Tom might actually like you. That maybe, just maybe he wouldn’t mind that you had a child. Tom sadly figured that you didn’t like him, and the two of you moved around on set moping about each other. It wasn’t until the production’s wrap that the two of you saw sense, and Tom immediately asked you out on a date.

After two months of dating, you told him, quite rightly, that you were a single mother. That her father was a horrible man, and he had never really been in the picture. You remember your pulse being really high. You were nervous because you were falling for Tom. It’s not all that easy to find a man who’d be willing to take that on. You were dead set on that he would say that it wouldn’t work, he’s often away filming or that he didn’t want children. Perhaps that he wanted his own. You prepared for the worst, but his whole face lit up. “I can’t wait to meet her.” he had said and you had nearly started bawling right there.

A year later you and Agatha had moved into Tom’s big flat in Belsize. He started to mention ‘his family’ in interviews, and of course, people were curious. Eventually, after two years of loving you and Agatha, he couldn’t keep his love for you out of the public. Although, it was something he tried to do, due to your private lives. He let it slip that his ‘daughter’ had drawn him as Loki and that it was the last time he cried of happiness. Graham Norton was in shock, and he said that he was glad that Tom had given him such a lovely exclusive piece of information. Tom had even shown the picture Agatha had drawn to the audience. He also mentioned that her mother is the most beautiful and loving person he’s ever met. He couldn’t wait to marry you. The crowd roared with excitement.

Tom looks at you while he helps Agatha down from the chair, she has had enough of drawing and runs towards her room, finding something else to play with. He moves closer to you and gives you a loving kiss, “I cherish these moments,” He says, “It’s so hard for me to be away from you two.” You look up at him and smile, “As long as you always come back. And that you fly us out so Aggy can run after her favourite Marvel characters,” Tom laughs, and folds his hands around your smaller frame. Suddenly there’s a hard knock on the door. Both of you look at each other, and then towards the front door again. “Are we expecting someone?” Tom asks as he walks towards the door. “No, I don’t think so. Who comes around at 10 in the morning a Saturday.” You say softly while picking up your coffee, letting Tom handle the door.

You see Tom’s entire frame stiffen as he looks out of the keyhole, he doesn’t move one inch as he calls for you, “Y/n! Call the police!” You nearly laugh out loud at this, what a ridiculous thing to say. “Funny, darling. Tell me who it is?” You take a sip from your cooling coffee. Tom moves away from the door, he moves carefully, nearly without sound. Like he was moving away from a ticking bomb. “What is the matter? Who is it?” You’re growing impatient now, and you’re feeling slightly confused. You leave your coffee mug on the kitchen island and nudge Tom away from the door opening.

You can feel all the colour drain from your face as you look through the keyhole. “Darren,” You whisper in absolute disbelief. Another loud knock makes both of you jump slightly. You hadn’t seen him since Agatha was 8 months old. “Y/n?” Echoes through the door and sends shivers down your spine. You’re not scared to see the man who put you through hell, you’re more in shock than anything else. It's like you had forgotten his existence. You look over your shoulder to Tom who mouths a ‘no’, because he knows what you’re thinking of doing. You’re thinking about opening the door. There’s silence for a few seconds before Darren speaks again, “Y/n, please, I know you’re home.” You have your hand on the lock, but you decide to speak to him before opening the door. “What do you want Darren?” Your tone is serious, nearly harsh. Tom stands behind you, as though he is guarding you. “I just want to speak to you, perhaps even see Agatha if she's there.” You huff, feeling yourself getting angry now. Why did he want to see her now? When he has never been interested in being her father before. You lean in to whisper to Tom, “Go get Agatha and go to our room.” Tom nods because he certainly doesn't want Darren to come close to his precious girl.

Tom considered himself to be her father, and so did you, and so did Agatha. You had mentioned to her that Tom wasn’t her biological father but it went over her head. Because Tom acted as a father and he was always around. You decided to not mention it to her again, that he wasn’t her father, to save her the confusion. Frankly, he was more of a father than most biological fathers are.

You hear Tom ask Aggy if she wants to watch some cartoons in the big bed, which she always wanted to do. You watch them as they trot through the apartment to the master bedroom. When the door was closed to the room you unlock the front door and was faced with Darren. ”Let’s make this quick,” You say as you block the doorway, so he can’t walk in. Before you can even react he pushes through you, his eyes looking around the apartment frantically. ”I didn’t invite you in, how dare you push into my flat like this?” You say, and cross your arms over your chest. You’ve taken so much grief from him for so many years, and right now you want to put him in his place. “You really did sleep your way to the top huh?” Darren says as he picks up a glass figurine from a nearby shelf.

You were fuming, but you kept your voice low. You didn’t want to alarm Agatha that something wasn’t right, and you certainly didn’t want Tom racing into the room. Because you knew he bore deep hatred towards the man now standing in your shared hall. ”What do you want Darren?” Your words are dripping with poison, and you can see the look of surprise on his face. You weren’t afraid of him anymore, and he could sense it. “Maybe, I wanted to see my kid.” He says nonchalantly, as he discards of the glass sculpture. What on earth is wrong with this man? “She’s not your kid.” You say, and you approach him, trying to nudge him towards the door. He doesn’t move, “I am her father, you and I both know it.” You want to slap him, but you refrain yourself from doing so. “She barely knows you exist. The father she knows is Tom. You and I both know that.” His jaw twitches, he’s angry now. You know he had seen on social media that his ex had found someone new, someone famous as well. You bet that annoyed him more. Since he hasn’t seen any sort of success in life.

”That famous fucker huh? I bet you love the money that comes with this new father you hauled in.” He looks disgusted when he spits out “new father.” You want him out of your house now. “I want you to leave right now, or I’ll call the police!” You can’t help yourself for yelling, thinking that it might scare him. He only grins.

Suddenly the door opens to the master bedroom, and Tom walks out with such purpose you think he’s going to hit the guy. “Oh, here he comes, the prince, the man of the house.” Darren lets out a laugh. You look over your shoulder to see Tom standing behind you, his face looks like thunder. “You heard Y/n. If you don’t leave now, we won’t hesitate to call the police.” His tone is serious and calm. Darren moves along into the kitchen but Tom is quick to stop him in his tracks. “You leave now, or we will call the police.” He says again. “You think you’re so high and mighty, don’t you? Stealing my kid and my wife.” You huff, he sounds absolutely ridiculous. “Wife? That’s new.” You say, “And Darren, she’s not your child. Not even a little bit. Not after what you’ve put us through. She might not know what you did to her mother, or how you kicked us out because you didn’t want us anymore. But I know, and you’re never going to be a father to her.” You’re crying now, you didn’t even realise.

Tom is fuming, he’s never been this angry and you can tell. This monologue seemed to stun Darren a little, he’s quiet for a few seconds, his anger now solely directed to Tom. You both flinch a little when he takes big steps towards the two of you, “You tucking bitch! And you, Tom Hiddleston, born with a silver spoon up your arse. You think you’re better than me? YOU think you’re better than me?” He gives Tom a hard poke in the chest, one that’ll probably leave a bruise. You’re ready to pounce, but Tom puts an arm out, stopping you in your tracks.

”I know I am better than you,” His voice is now loud and it seems to be scaring Darren a little. Tom’s muscles are tight and he looks twice as big as before, “You think YOU can come in to our home and disrespect Y/n like this, after all, you have done,” Darren’s still quiet, “And then have the audacity to want to see Agatha whom YOU abandoned and haven’t seen since she was 1,” He points at Darren now, his hand is slightly shaking out of anger. “How dare you? How bloody dare you? This is my family and I will do everything in my power to keep them away from rotten souls like you,” Suddenly you hear a cry coming behind you. Quick as lighting you turn around and see Agatha standing in the creek of the door, tears running down her cheeks. She’s heard everything. Your heart breaks into a million pieces as you run to her and scoop her up. Tom’s eyes look away from Darren’s for an instance to give the two of you a glance, securing that Agatha was in your arms.

”You will leave now. And if I see you again there’s going to be a restraining order against you and believe me, I can ruin you if I wanted to. But I am a better man than you, I have morals and a goddamn heart,” Tom has lowered his voice but his tone makes Darren shutter. He knew that Tom had the power to do just what he said. Darren looks unsure of what to say. You’re standing back with Aggy, holding her tight as she asks who “the bad man is”

”You can have them, I don’t give a shit anyway.” He bolts for the door and slams it shut so hard you think it might shatter. As soon as Tom is sure that he isn’t coming back he rushes towards you two. He embraces you where you stand, “Don’t worry, he won’t ever set his foot anywhere near you again.” There are tears in Tom’s eyes as well because he hasn’t ever been so angry and simultaneously scared at the same time. He knew Darren was unpredictable, strong, and if he had decided to attack, Tom had feared that there wasn’t going to be much that he could do to stop him. His heart is hammering in his chest, "Tom, it's all right, look we're fine." Tom is torn from his thoughts, thoughts filled with bad endings to this situation. He looks down at Agatha, who's no longer crying, and then up at you. "God, I love you." He kissed you and then bends down to plant a kiss on Agatha's head.

#tom hiddleston #Tom Hiddleston fandom #tom hiddleston x reader #dad!tom #dad!tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston oneshot #tom hiddelston imagine #tom hiddleston fan fic #tom x you #tom x reader #actor imagine #british actor imagine

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kawa-boru · 5 years ago

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KanaTyy collaboration

KawaBoru Week: Day One

Prompt: Pranks

Rating: T (for language)

Work count: 4,700

War

Boruto yawned as his history teacher dragged on about some ancient psycho queen. No matter what the topic was or what time period they covered, history in general was just so boring to him. He would rather be out in the world making his own history than hearing about a crazy woman that got off on other people’s pain. The blond couldn’t even be bothered to take notes, his cheek resting in his hand as he fought to stay awake. A light snore from right beside him revealed that Kawaki had long given up that battle. He was out cold and probably dreaming about something way more interesting than this.

It was unfair, that bastard had left Boruto to suffer alone while he got some shut eye. Wanting to teach him a lesson, an old school prank crossed his mind. He dug into his pencil pouch until he found his black sharpie. It was time to turn history class into art class and the blond was feeling inspired. There was no waking Kawaki once he was out, not until he was good and ready to get up. Boruto took advantage of the fact and reached over to start doodling on his boyfriend’s face. By the time class was over, his masterpiece was complete and looking utterly ridiculous. It was difficult not to burst into laughter right then and there.

Kawaki woke up and palmed his face, it felt a little tingly, as if it had been tickled with something light like a feather. Class was finally over, so he leaned over to grab his bag and then got to his feet, though not before he noticed Boruto snickering. The blond was still in his desk, covering up his face and trying to contain his laughter. The way he was avoiding Kawaki’s general direction was enough for him to know Boruto had done something that was going to make him mad. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“What the hell did you do this time?” Kawaki asked, slamming his palm down on Boruto’s desk and leaning over him threateningly.

The action only caused the blond to shake harder, soon laughing uncontrollably. “I-I can’t, hahaha, fuck, don’t look at me!”

Kawaki moved his free hand to grab Boruto by the scruff of his shirt and yanked him until he was forced to look at him. “I’m not playing around, Boruto.”

“I know, I know, but . . .” He trailed off, chuckling. It was just too good. “It’s impossible to take you seriously like that.”

“Like what?” Kawaki hissed, leaning even closer. So close that their noses nearly touched.

Boruto grinned at him before closing the distance, placing a quick peck on his lips. “Nothing, dear. I was only making sure you had your face mask on while you got your beauty rest.”

After shoving Boruto away with a growl, Kawaki dug his phone out of his pocket and checked himself with his camera. The sight he was met with had his blood running cold and his head twitched as he turned to look back at Boruto who was already running out of the classroom.

Payback was going to be so sweet.

Kawaki had no choice but to leave school after finding out Boruto had drawn all over his face. He didn’t want to be seen at all, so he went straight home and scrubbed his face until it was raw and he had to take a break. He still hadn’t gotten the marker off completely, which only irritated him more. While he was furious, he was also bound and determined to get his boyfriend back for his little stunt. So he fumed and brooded until he decided what he was going to do.

Luckily for him, his boyfriend was soft to a fault. Even if he was a little devil at the same time. Kawaki knew just how to play him, and he planned to do something to get the blond really really upset. It wouldn’t be hard, but if he could do well enough, he could effectively end the prank war before it really began. This wasn’t the first time they had gone at each other, though it had been a while.

Kawaki could be a little ruthless when he was feeling petty and even though Boruto should have known better, he was sure he’d overreact and not think things through properly. So he sent him a text, which held the prank itself. It was simple, two words to start it off, but they were harsh enough to hopefully get his point across.

‘I’m done.’

‘With what? Pouting? Come on, you have to admit it was funny.’ Boruto responded seconds later.

Kawaki laughed, because it was funny. Not getting his face marked all over, but the turmoil his boyfriend was about to experience.

‘I’m done with you.’ He texted back after a couple moments, wanting to make him wait for it.

‘??? What? You’re not really that mad about it, right? It was just a prank.’

Kawaki could feel his panic already. ‘Not mad. Just done. I’m going through your shit now, I’ll drop everything off with you tomorrow.’

The next response wasn’t as quick as the others. ‘Quit messing around, you don’t mean that . . . do you?’

He almost felt bad, he almost gave in right then and told Boruto he was just kidding. Instead, he kept at it. ‘Yeah. I do. I’m done. I’ll have your things to you by noon tomorrow. I’d appreciate it if you could pack my things up too. I want my hoodie back.’

‘Wait a second, I didn’t mean it! :( Kawaki, we can talk this out.’

Kawaki didn’t respond. If he wanted to make it seem real, he had to play the part and he couldn’t sit around texting him. So, he went around his room and really started packing up everything he had of Boruto’s. There were some of his clothes here and there, lots of notes he’d given Kawaki over the years, pictures and keepsakes and gifts. Everything, he packed it up.

‘Don’t ignore me, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again, honest.’

When Kawaki noticed the other text, he decided to reply. Just a quick, ‘It’s too late. It’s over.’ and then he returned to packing everything away. He was going all out to pull this off.

The next day Boruto was waiting for Kawaki to arrive, having gotten himself all worked up. He tuned out his sister’s constant questioning and kept trying to get another response from Kawaki, but he had stopped answering altogether yesterday. Breaking up over a prank? He just couldn’t believe it and yet the bastard had talked about taking his hoodie back. The hoodie that the blond had finally stolen after many attempts, the one that he couldn’t wait to wear during fall and when it got cold. It was his favorite one and there was no way he was giving it back.

In fact, there was no way he was going to let Kawaki break up with him. Especially not over a fucking sharpie. Despite knowing how the other boy felt about him there was still a voice of doubt. Maybe this was the last straw, maybe he really was tired of dealing with him. Boruto was beyond nervous and he hadn’t packed a single thing. He refused to because that meant he was accepting that they were finished. He jumped from the couch when he heard a car pull into the driveway and went out the front door, blue eyes widening at the sight of his things in Kawaki’s backseat. He was really trying to give them back to him . . .

Kawaki got out of his car, slamming the door shut and purposely avoiding the sight of the blond who was now outside. He opened the rear door and grabbed the box he had and the few bags, able to carry everything at once. After closing the door, he schooled his features and made his way over to Boruto. Boruto didn’t like the look on his face at all and it hit him like a punch to the gut. The air of indifference made it feel too real and for a moment he was frozen still from the shock of it all.

“Don’t you dare bring those in my house.” He told him, blocking his way. “I’m not taking them.”

“Yes you are. I can carry them in and get mine in return.” Kawaki said, brushing past the blond’s smaller frame easily and heading towards the door.

“No, wait! Don’t do this.” Boruto pleaded and hurried after him. “I don’t want to be over, please just stop and listen, okay?”

Kawaki almost smiled, but he fought the urge and turned around to glare at his panicked boyfriend. “Go ahead, talk, Boruto. It won’t get you anywhere.”

The blond nearly flinched at the glare and swallowed hard. “If I had known it would have made you this upset then I never would have done it.” He had never gotten this angry before, enough to want to end things with him. They had pranked each other plenty of times. “Give me one more chance, I-I’ll do better. I can prove it to you.”

“Prove it? How?” Kawaki pressed, already ready to tell Boruto it was all a prank.

“I promise not to mess with you anymore.” Boruto started off with, but that wouldn’t be enough. Kawaki was really mad at him. “I’ll make you lunch everyday, I won’t bother you when you’re studying . . . and . . . and I’ll even stop dragging you to that burger place every weekend!”

Nothing or nobody could come close to rivaling Boruto’s cuteness. He was so adorable that the taller boy couldn’t prevent himself from smiling any longer. “So, no more pranks? Lunch everyday and you’ll stop being annoying? Wow… I don’t know… I think I’d kind of miss going to your favorite burger place every weekend…”

Boruto was thrown off by the sudden change in mood, but wanted to take it as success. “Then . . . then what?” Would he give him another chance?

“I was just fucking with you. Karma is a bitch, huh?” Kawaki smirked.

He was . . . but he . . . it was all a . . . “Huh?”

“It was just a prank.”

Boruto was stunned into silence for a few seconds, hoping he had heard wrong. “ . . . . excuse me?”

“You heard me. I didn’t stutter.” Kawaki huffed and walked past Boruto again, on his way to his car.

“You . . . you . . . you bastard!” The blond yelled. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Kawaki snorted as he opened the back door and returned all the items inside. He closed it again and reached for the door handle to the driver door. “See you.”

Boruto’s jaw dropped. After all that he had the nerve to just drive away? Oh no, no no no. He needed to sit down before he hurt himself, he was so ticked. He watched as the other boy backed out of the driveway and then turned on his heel to go back inside. If that was how Kawaki wanted to play it then fine, so be it. He wasn’t going to let him get away with a stunt like that.

When Kawaki made it back home, he returned all of Boruto’s things to their rightful places. His phone was dry, which meant Boruto was more than likely still pouting over the revelation. It amused Kawaki to no end and he didn’t even feel bad. It was all worth it as long as Boruto didn’t try anything like that again. Kawaki could be drastic if he ever wanted to be--though Boruto was the one who’d made the word all that it was.

After a few hours, Kawaki took a shower and then decided to send a few pictures to his boyfriend in hopes of cheering him up. He couldn’t sulk forever and Kawaki was hoping to see him again that night, so he hoped Boruto would act right. Boruto didn’t take long at all to open the messages, but he didn’t send a response. If he wanted to be a big baby, Kawaki would make him regret it. He tossed his phone on his bed and went into his closet, grabbing a pair of jeans and his favorite black vest. He got dressed and ready, stepping into his boots when he finally prepared to leave his home.

Once he was in his car, he took another picture of himself, making sure to show off his open vest. ‘Wanted to take you out. I’ll take myself instead.’ He sent the message with a tongue emoji at the end and waited.

‘Good, I hope you get used to it.’

Kawaki rolled his eyes and set his phone down to get on the road. He thought he would pick up Boruto, go to Thunder Burger and spend the rest of their Saturday together. He supposed he couldn’t really blame his boyfriend for being upset, but Kawaki knew him well enough to know that he would still be upset later in the night, possibly even more so than he was currently.

He ended up at Iwabe’s, a safe enough place, though his friend was older, a few years older, and he normally had things going on at all ours of the day and night. Kawaki wasn’t surprised when he arrived to find several other people already there, socializing. Iwabe made his way over to him just a few seconds after he walked through the door.

“Where’s Boruto?” He asked instead of greeting Kawaki properly.

Kawaki shrugged a shoulder. “Didn’t want to hang out with me tonight. I pissed him off a bit.”

“Really? On a Saturday? Damn…” Iwabe sounded impressed. “I don’t think it will help that you know who is here.”

Oh. “No, it probably wouldn’t.” Kawaki chuckled, already knowing who he was referring to. If Kawaki was smart, he would turn around and leave right then… but he wasn’t. “Oh well, it’s his own fault. Besides, I’m not doing anything wrong.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about.” Iwabe muttered and Kawaki rolled his eyes. It wasn’t like he wouldn’t defend his relationship or put anyone in their place who dared try to intervene or cause any problems.

Still, it was risky. So, just to be safe, he texted Boruto along with sending a picture of himself. ‘Came by Iwabe’s.’ He sent, deciding to break it to him slowly. When no reply came though, he followed with, ‘Inojin’s here…’

‘I see how it is . . . well go ahead, dig yourself into a dipper hole. I wonder how far you’ll get before you can’t get out of it.’

Kawaki huffed at the message, not liking it one bit. ‘Don’t go threatening me. I tried to spend my night with you instead, but you acted like a little prick. Bye.’

‘Me?! You’re the one who faked a break up, you dick! Mission fucking acomplished, I won’t be pranking you anymore.’

‘Damn right you won’t.’ Kawaki replied, frowning in annoyance. ‘I’m not arguing with you and I’m not sitting home bored on a Saturday night.’

‘Fine, I’ll leave you to your fun.’

Returning his phone to his pocket, Kawaki turned back to Iwabe with a sigh. “I’m going home.”

“What? You just got here?” Iwabe frowned.

“Bye.” Kawaki called, already on his way out. Boruto really knew how to make him feel like shit so even though he didn’t want to, he would go home and be bored all night. Maybe he’d go to sleep early.

Boruto was already in bed, staring daggers at his phone. Kawaki was so stupid. He was really going to hang out with Inojin, knowing how Boruto felt about that handsy flirter? It made him sick. Deep down he knew Kawaki would never cheat on him or anything like that. Even still, his boyfriend wasn’t careful enough and knew how to piss him off. The bastard just didn’t get it. The blond understood the whole point was to put a stop to their pranking altogether before it turned into a big mess. Again. They both could get carried away.

However a sharpie wasn’t nearly in the same league with what he had done, he crossed a line and Boruto wasn’t going to let him sweep it under the rug. He got the message loud and clear. No more pranks, period. Now it was time for Kawaki to learn not to joke about their relationship. Boruto wasn’t going to fall for his seduction or his attempts to make him jealous and lonely. Thinking he was actually done with him, it hurt. It was scary to think they could fall apart over something so idotic and having Kawaki act like that towards him was his worst nightmare.

The blond liked him more than he had ever liked anyone, but it irritated him when he tried to use his own anger against him. When he tried to make him give in and get over it because he wanted him to. Yeah, he was mad alright, but he was serious too. He was going to pout and sulk all he wanted and there was nothing the other boy could do about it. He went to sleep that night, sticking to his resolve and not giving into his urge to go to Iwabe’s party. He would wait and see what their relationship meant to Kawaki.

When Kawaki woke up the following morning, he was still groggy from sleeping too much and didn’t want to get out of bed. He did though, checking his phone which had no messages from Boruto before he went to take a shower. After his shower, he dressed in a pair of shorts and played some music on his phone as he wandered through his home, heading for the kitchen. He couldn’t believe Boruto hadn’t texted or called or anything. It really pissed him off.

While he ate some simple toast, Kawaki sent him a text. ‘Still ignoring me and acting like a baby?’

‘That’s right.’

Kawaki scoffed and shook his head to himself as he chewed a bite of bread. ‘You ruined date night. Thanks a lot.’

‘You’re welcome.’

Kawaki scowled at his response and set his phone down, rolling his eyes. He would not follow that up with any response. If Boruto wanted to pout and act childish, then he would let him.

‘ . . . . did you have fun last night?”

‘Yep.’ Kawaki replied as soon as he read the text, annoyed that Boruto had the audacity to ask him such a thing.

‘Hmph.’

Having nothing to say to that, Kawaki finished up his toast and then walked into the living room, realizing by now that he was alone at home. That was nothing unusual. He sat on the couch and turned on the tv, but kept the volume down since he wasn’t really going to watch it. He was far more interested in his music. Now he had a whole day to do nothing and all thanks to a stupid prank war.

Boruto was in a similar state, holding up in his room and watching romcoms in his boyfriend’s hoodie. So he had fun hanging out with Inojin? The blond wanted to punch something. Not only that, but it seemed that Kawaki couldn't care less. This was the worst weekend ever. The pair continued to be stubborn and ignore each other until they were right back where they started. Sitting in his desk, the blond tried to mentally prepared himself for whatever his history teacher had planned for the day. He pointingly didn’t look at the desk right beside him and for once in his life had the intention of taking notes.

Kawaki was watching Boruto blatantly ignore his existence until he began to wonder if they actually had broken up without ever coming to the decision aloud. Maybe he had taken things too far, but Boruto started it and he shouldn’t have been acting like this. They should have spent their Saturday together, going for burgers and hanging out until midnight as they usually did. However, that hadn’t happened. Kawaki had been in bed before nine and that had never happened in his life. Boruto didn’t even text him, he was bothered, but he was being silent and that wasn’t like him at all. He wasn’t falling for any of Kawaki’s moves and Kawaki didn’t like that one bit.

He wanted to call Boruto out, right in the middle of class because it was eating him alive. He wouldn’t though. Not a chance. Despite his determination in the beginning, Boruto couldn’t fake interest in what the teacher was saying. His paper was as blank as always and he inwardly groaned. He curiously looked over at Kawaki to see how he was holding up, but cursed himself for giving in and turned back around soon after. He was still upset even if he did miss his stupid face. Those eyes weren’t going to work on him, no way. The blond started moving his hand to make himself write something only to end up drawing in his notebook.

By the time class came to an end, Kawaki was furious. Just who did Boruto think he was? Ignoring him? Ha! It was completely laughable and yet, Kawaki wasn’t laughing. He was torn between losing his mind and unleashing his frustration out on his maybe boyfriend, or storming off and never speaking to him again. The decision to confront the blond seemed to be the best route to take.

“I’m not joking anymore with you. Now I’m really pissed.” Kawaki snapped at him as soon as they were in the hallway. Boruto had tried to just walk away but Kawaki wasn’t having it. He’d been quick to grab his wrist and pin him up against the nearest lockers.

“But not the least bit guilty.” Boruto said, but didn’t try to break free. He knew he wouldn’t be able to.

“I can see that you’re not.” Kawaki huffed. “You should be apologizing already.”

“Me?” He had lost his mind. “For what?”

“For ruining our whole weekend, asshole! For ignoring me! Hell, the list goes on…”

Boruto narrowed his eyes at him. “You’re the one that was being a jerk and then drove away as if nothing happened! So what, it’s only a problem if you’re the one who’s angry?”

“I planned to go back and pick you up, you idiot.” Kawaki growled, glaring down at the blond. “Once the pranks were over, you should have let them go, but you didn’t. I guess it doesn’t matter, since you had a great time.” They weren’t getting anywhere and Kawaki was only becoming more frustrated by the second, so he forced himself to take a step back and distance himself. Maybe they just needed some time.

“I did let them go, what do you think this is? What do you think I’ve been doing?” Boruto asked, having to spell it out for him. “This isn’t some fucking prank. You’re not allowed to say we’re over no matter what. I don’t care if it’s a joke, I don’t care if you’re trying to teach me a lesson. I don’t want to hear you say it . . .”

“At least I wasn’t serious. I could have been—after what you did to me in public. And now, look at us. What the hell is this?”

Boruto didn’t have to look around, he could feel the stares and the judgement. But that wasn’t important. “I thought you were and that’s my point . . . it wasn’t funny at all . . . and I already said sorry. I’m sorry.” He said, though perhaps they had caused enough of a scene for the day and he was done arguing. That’s not what he wanted. In the end, he started walking away so he wouldn’t have people gawking at him.

The look on Kawaki’s face as he followed Boruto was enough to have other people scurrying along and minding their own business like they should have been doing to start with. He walked next to his boyfriend for a few minutes and eventually sighed.

“I’m sorry too, Boruto. It wasn’t easy for me to go through with that prank, but you almost act as if you wish it were true. If we’re not going to be together then are we really even together at all?”

“Of course I don’t wish it were true.” The blond told him, holding his books to his chest. “But I didn’t want you to think something like that was okay . . . I didn’t want you to brush me off. I want to be together, but I want you to understand my feelings too.”

“I understand all of that. But what about my feelings?” Kawaki asked, speaking a little softer now. “I missed you all weekend and you didn’t even care.”

That was how Boruto had wanted it to seem. “I did care and I missed you too. I don’t ever like being mad at you, Kawaki, and I couldn’t even ignore you properly either. I still gave in and looked at every text message and responded to most of them.” He said and then added under his breath, “not to mention that party . . .”

“What party?”

“The one where you had fun at. With Iwabe and . . . and him.”

Kawaki snorted and shoved Boruto with his elbow as they walked down the hall. “You’re so stupid. I never even saw him and I left right after you texted me that last time…”

Blue eyes looked up at him. “Really?”

“Really.” Kawaki sighed again. “I was hoping to coax you into meeting me so we could do something together… but that was a major fail.”

“I thought you just wanted to pretend like it never happened.” Boruto confessed and laid it all out there. “Like the prank didn’t hurt my feelings. . .”

“I know it did.” Kawaki smiled and wrapped his arm around Boruto’s neck. “I’m sorry, but you should blame yourself. You think I’d ever leave you—let somebody else have you? Not ever.”

Boruto blushed at his words, looking away again. “It’s not my fault you were putting on some Broadway performance. Trying to take my hoodie . . .”

That made Kawaki laugh. “My hoodie.” He corrected. “If it was yours, you probably wouldn’t even care.”

“It’s my hoodie that was given to me by you after I stole it.” Boruto said, getting the facts straight.

“Did I ever say that you could have it though?” Kawaki asked, cocking a brow.

“Maybe not in words,” the blond admitted as they stopped around a corner, “but yes. Definite yes.”

Kawaki hummed, knowing he had never agreed to it, but was unable to take it away from him either—even if it was so big on him. Kawaki liked it. “You’re right. Since you’re so cute, I may even give you another one.”

Boruto was quick to jump on the offer. “I want the blue one.”

“Then it’s yours.”

Boruto grinned, stepping forwards to lean his head against Kawaki’s chest. “In return, I’ll make you lunch everyday and only bother you sometimes while you’re studying, but we have to go to Thunder Burger and . . . and I’ll give you a free favor.”

“Boruto, you’re full of shit. I’ve heard all of this before. Except… this favor, I’ll believe it when I see it. Thunder Burger is a given and you know it. You’ll never let me study in peace if you’re around and I’d be lucky to get lunch once.”

“Wow. No faith whatsoever.” He rolled his eyes, but was still grinning. “It’s totally different from what I’ve said before, Kawaki. And I’ll show you, just you wait.” He was going to make him so many boxed lunches that he would get sick of them. “As for the favor, name it. Any time, any place, anywhere.”

Smiling fondly, Kawaki ruffled Boruto’s hair. “Alright then, I’m looking forward to it.”

A/N:

Tyy: Kawaki and Boruto are ridiculous, but I love them. Had a lot of fun writing this! I can’t imagine these two pranking each other a lot more. It was funny and dramatic, kept me rolling my eyes and laughing. Don’t write high school kawaboru often, so it was also refreshing! XD

Kana: High school idiots still working out their relationship and each other. The smallest things turned into the biggest problems in their little world just like it does for other people at their age. It was fun, but frustrating too because they were both so hard headed, hahaha. They were troublesome, but still cute and perfect for each other.

#kawaboru #kawaboruweek #kawaboruweek2020 #kawaboruweek2020d1 #kawaki #boruto #kawaboru fanfiction

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espship18 · 5 years ago

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Kpop ship for oh-my-vocal-unit

Howdy howdy everyone! So, I am here with a ship for @oh-my-vocal-unit ! I’m super sorry this took longer than the time I told you about, but, I hope I won’t disappoint! <3 Let’s get to shippin!

Based off of your request, I have gathered these things about you:

You’re an old soul and a deep thinker

You’re a perfectionist and very self-aware of yourself

Easily lazy ex. giving up on homework

You enjoy art and beauty

You like to dance and run

You’re also smart

Artsy: photography, calligraphy, and designing

Others describe you as soft

You have an energetic and snarky personality

Poised and polite

A little distant

You also enjoy complimenting people

INJF

And in your request, you asked to be shipped with Astro, Pentagon, and Seventeen! So without further a do, let’s us begin!

Astro: Rocky

You two would be a good balance of sweet, soft, and savage when you would be together. You and Rocky would be lovable enough to where you both would know you love each other, but you both also know how to keep some personal space over one another, and not smother each other. Rocky is just a sweet heart, so like, be prepared for that. Sometimes you can be a bit stubborn and a tough nut to crack, but Rocky would always know what to do to soften you up, and he’d know exactly what to say. He is also a clever little shit, he would know how to make you blush. Every now and then Rocky would like to one-up your compliments. He would enjoy how he could see how far you could go with regards to your complements and how much affection you could show him. And although that you are a smart cookie, you’d fall for his antic every time. After you two are both done trying to one up your love for each other, you both have a goofy smile on your face and you have a sweet little talk on how much you love each other. Like I said, he’s a clever little shit. Moving right along, you two would also be an artsy couple. Rocky would always want to run some of his choreography by you before he moves on through the process and you enjoy tagging along with him to work and you take pictures of him for memory purposes. You also like to travel around the building if Rocky gets a little too busy with his managers and producers. Going to the top floor and seeing the view, woo boy that would be beautiful. Then Rocky would find you and you two would have a soft back hug moment, very sweet. Also, you would get some opportunities to do some calligraphy designs for Astro’s upcoming albums. Rocky would see you would have natural talents and pitched the idea to the managers, it would be a great experience! Date night would be more of your gig. Since Rocky can spend long nights in the music/dance studio, so you would get a lot of time alone at the house. You would love setting up the apartment and cooking(or ordering take out depending on how you feel) and you’d like to create a nice warm environment for Rocky when he came home, and you’d always make him happy. Lastly, PDA. PDA is an interesting topic for me when it comes to PDA. He would enjoy some moderate PDA, he would be soft for you, so he would always want to hold your hand, or hold his arm around your waist. He wouldn’t intentionally want to make you flustered, but you always get flustered with him. Cheek kisses are his thing too, but when you’re feeling playful, you’ll kiss his cheek with red lipstick on, and you won’t tell him if he has a lipstick stain or not.

Pentagon: Hongseok

You two would be quiet but also a sweet couple. I had no problems choosing a member for you tbh, and I’m excited about this ship. You two have a lot in common, in my opinion, so you two would click instantly. I can see you and Hong meeting while you’re both on a run. You two were taking a break in a park. It would be really hot that morning and no one likes to get heat exhaustion while running. You two would share small talk, mostly how you two run through here all the time, but you’d never actually see each other. Hong would be his charismatic self, and you two would agree to be running buddies soon after. The real kicker to your relationship would happen when you’d be stressed out from work. Hongseok would come to your place to pick you up, as he normally does, but you’re not even close to being ready. After you would vent about your frustrations, Hongseok would ask to take you out so you could get your mind clear. Of course you accepted, and the first true roots of your friendship would blossom. That would also be one of the first times where he would see you in normal clothes and see your true personality, and he would just fall completely for you. You two would unofficially become a couple. You two would just spend so much time together, you would be so comfortable with each other to the point where you would become a couple. Hongseok would really soften you up as well, mostly just from the fact that he is irresistible and you can’t help but fall for him. You two would also go above and beyond to make each other happy. Hongseok would love to surprise you with your favorite things. Just to see your face light up when you’re happy would mean the world to him. You two are very playfully picky with each other. You can both be sarcastic, so picking on each other definitely happens. But of course you never go as far as hurting one another feelings. Another thing you and Hong would have a lot it quiet time. Whether it be studying or reading or just laying together listening to music, quiet time is a must. A funny thing Hong would do is bribing you for motivation. It always works. Then date night would be an even distribution between you both. You equally like to have control over date night because you know what makes each other happy, so Hongseok gets the out and about dates while you get the at home/private quality time dates. Lastly, you are so getting affection with Hong. He’s an affectionate bub with you, so be prepared for: a LOT of hand holding, cheek and lip pecks, and his favorite, the back hug.

Seventeen: Woozi

To the public eye, you’re a very stoic couple, but behind the scenes, you two are very soft for each other. I honestly believe that you two would balance each other out nicely. Not only are you energetic enough for him, you two also balance each other out when it comes to signs of affection. Woozi would be really good at showing affection through actions. He wouldn’t excel at expressing his emotions/affection in words, but he would bend over backwards to show you he loves you. Then on the other side, you wouldn’t be good at showing your emotions/affection through actions, it you’d be good at showing affection through words(like your compliments). As quite and proper as you and Woozi would be, it would take the world by surprise that you two worked together so well. Some of your favorite times is to spend it together, alone. You two would enjoy doing touristy things, like go to museums and try out different restaurants. When you’re out, you always try to take pictures for projects or just cause, and the memories Woozi is making with you would give him inspiration for songs or lyrics. You two would also spend a lot of time in Woozi’s studio. On a normal day, there aren’t many people in and out of his studio, so you two can easily chill out in his studio and have a great time. And it’s always fun when one of Woozi’s fellow members comes in. If you two would be snuggling and a member were to walk in, you and Woozi would roast the particular member for fun. In all seriousness, you two wouldn’t mind the member coming in, unless it’s Seungkwan, lol jk, you both love him. Overall, you two just love to have quiet time and snuggle with no distraction. Moving right along, I just had his though in my head, you always get featured on Woozi’s Instagram! Much to a lot of peoples surprise, Woozi would enjoy showing you off. He would like to show off the cute and funny moments that you two would share. He would like to show the fans one of the things that makes him happy, and you’re so gosh dern cute, it’s hard not to show you off. You also like to steal Woozi’s phone, so you end up making your own tradition. You make calligraphy videos on his insta and his followers are always asking for more. Similar to Rocky, Woozi can get REALLY busy at work, so you like to make date night when he gets home, and it’s basically anything he likes. Lastly, PDA wise, he enjoys holding you the most. He enjoys temple pecks as he’s holding you, but when he holds you, all his stress goes away, and when he’s with you, he’s at his happiest.

~STA

#oh-my-vocal-unit x idol ship #kpop #kpop writing #kpop ships #kpop reactions #shipping blog #reaction blog #astro #pentagon #Seventeen #astro ships #pentagon ships #seventeen ships #rocky #hongseok #woozi

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randomoranges · 5 years ago

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the other idea i had this past sunday. how is it that “simple” ideas turn into long things? also featuring the return of my fav format: text messages.

Picnic

Étienne had been working on a mural for the past month or so, and even though he was finished, he was nothing but a perfectionist when it came to his art and therefore, he had returned to the café where he was making his mural to put the finishing touches on his work. He’d left extremely early in the morning, since the owner of the café had given him the keys, and since he hadn’t been able to sleep much, he figured it would be best to put his time to good use, much to Edward’s chagrin, who had been looking forward to a quiet morning at home. But, Étienne figured that the sooner he started, the sooner he could finish and maybe, that way, once he was done, he could take advantage of his Saturday afternoon with his boyfriend.

When Étienne stepped out for a bit to take a much needed break and enjoy a cigarette, he was delighted to find a message from Edward on his phone.

I have a surprise for you when you get home <3 Message sent: Saturday 11:17am from Eddy

Ohhhh?????????? A surprise or a “surprise”? Message sent: Saturday 11:18am from Curly <3

Omg. Mind out of the gutter Bouclé. It’s a surprise. Buuuuut, if you play your cards right it can turn into a “surprise” ;) Message sent: Saturday 11:18am from Eddy

! <3 Message sent: Saturday 11:19am from Curly <3

Regardless of, a surprise! Message sent: Saturday 11:19am from Curly <3

Yes, come find me in the backyard when you get home. Message sent: Saturday 11:21am from Eddy

I am officially intrigued. Do I have time to shower or shall I join you ASAP? Message sent: Saturday 11:21am from Curly <3

Haha. You can shower. Do I want to know how much paint is covering you or not? Message sent: Saturday 11:22am from Eddy

Mmmaaaaybe. Message sent: Saturday 11:23am from Curly <3

Img_191919sdfrs uploaded successfully Message sent: Saturday 11:24am from Curly <3

Warn a man when you send him such photos. But also, how do you manage to get paint all over you every time? It’s a gift and a curse. Message sent: Saturday 11:24am from Eddy

Hahaha. Oh but that’s nothing ;) Message sent: Saturday 11:25am from Curly <3

Img_191920aeret uploaded successfully Message sent: Saturday 11:25am from Curly <3

I said w a r n a m a n . Message sent: Saturday 11:28am from Eddy

Those colours actually compliment your skin. Message sent: Saturday 11:28am from Eddy

Also, you’re hot <3 Message sent: Saturday 11:29am from Eddy

;) Message sent: Saturday 11:29am from Curly <3

Also, shouldn’t you be working instead of sending me scandalous pictures?? Message sent: Saturday 11:31am from Eddy

Finish up so you can come home and I can get my hands all over you Message sent: Saturday 11:31am from Eddy

: D Almost done! And I’m taking a break. I’m not hearing you complain. Message sent: Saturday 11:33am from Curly <3

Hmm, no, you won’t. Not when you look that good in those photos. Text me when you’re almost home so I know when to get this surprise ready. Message sent: Saturday 11:35am from Eddy

Sounds good! Later <3 Message sent: Saturday 11:35am from Curly <3

Happy painting <3 Message sent: Saturday 11:36am from Eddy

Étienne grinned as he pocketed his phone and then finished his cigarette, intrigued as to what this surprise could be, but he put it in the back of his mind so that he could focus on his work instead. It took him another two hours or so before he finished, packed up his gear and then he had to wait for the owner of the café to come by, check over his work and then pay him. The owner was incredibly pleased, paid Étienne in cash, and even threw in a tip for him. All in all, it hadn’t been such a terrible Saturday morning after all.

Guess who is now #loaded Message sent: Saturday 1:08pm from Curly <3

Img_191921gwedf uploaded successfully Message sent: Saturday 1:10pm from Curly <3

That’s a lot of red and brown! Message sent: Saturday 1:16pm from Eddy

You bet your pretty little derrière it is! Anyways, I’m going to the bank to drop this cash off and then I’ll be home headed. Should be there in... 30 minutes? Message sent: Saturday 1:18pm from Curly <3

Sounds good! I’ll be in the backyard – no peeking! Message sent: Saturday 1:21pm from Eddy

Edward Murphy, whatever are you up to? Message sent: Saturday 1:21pm from Curly <3

Y o u ‘ l l s e e 0:) Message sent: Saturday 1:23pm from Eddy

Can’t wait! Message sent: Saturday 1:24pm from Curly <3

With Étienne out of the house at the crack of dawn, (or what seemed like it anyways), Edward had not been able to really get any more sleep after he had left. Therefore, he had gotten out of bed and decided to start his day, which turned out to be the first nice day in a really long time. Edward had originally thought of making some chicken in the oven, for supper, since he hadn’t thought the weather forecast would hold on to its 21 degrees and sunshine, but when he saw that it was actually sunny and hot, he decided to change his plans for something a little more fun and different – a picnic in the backyard.

The really great thing about the backyard was that it was bathed in sunlight from early morning until late afternoon. It had been one of the reasons why Edward had looked into this place, knowing how much Étienne craved sunlight and the garden space, shed and pear tree turned into an added bonus. Now that they had an actual backyard with actual grass and actual space, Edward decided that it would be the best way to spend the afternoon together.

Winter had been long, never ending, and harsh, the start of spring had been non-existent, and Edward could tell that it all took a toll on Étienne’s spirit. Even though this wasn’t a cure for his blues, Edward knew that Étienne would appreciate the thought and so Edward fished out the picnic basket and checkered tablecloth they normally used for their picnics, cleaned out the cooler, and dug out the plastic utensils and dishes they used when they ate outside.

He had spent the better part of his morning assembling ingredients and recipes, going to the grocery store twice and then he had disappeared into the kitchen to start making lunch-supper for when Étienne would get home. The idea of keeping the picnic a surprise had come to him later on and he was absolutely pleased with himself that he had warned his fiancé before he returned home.

Edward knew how much Étienne loved surprises, knew how much Étienne liked being spoiled, even if he made a big deal about it every time, and Edward hoped he would appreciate this one.

Home! Going to take a shower, care to join??? Message sent: Saturday 1:58pm from Curly <3

As tempting as that is, I’ll take a rain check on that. Don’t wanna get carried away and let your surprise spoil. Message sent: Saturday 1:59pm from Eddy

Fair. But also, wow, this sounds like some surprise. Be out in a few <3 Message sent: Saturday 2:00pm from Curly <3

Étienne was very tempted to peek into the backyard when he got home, but not only did he not want to ruin Edward’s surprise, he also knew his fiancé would be absolutely livid and would not speak to him for a really long time if he purposely spoiled the surprise. Therefore, Étienne did his best not to look, did his best not to peek from their bedroom’s French doors as he gathered some clothes to change in, did his utmost best to resist temptation as he walked to the washroom and finally let out a sigh of relief once he was locked in one of the only rooms that did not have a window with a direct view to the backyard.

He would have opted for a nice relaxing bath; he would have splurged in warm water with bubble bath until his skin pruned, but Étienne was a curious monster and so he took a quick shower, scrubbed the sweat, grime, and paint off his body, before he towelled himself off and changed into his favourite pair of shorts and tank top.

Here I come! Message sent: Saturday 2:23pm from Curly <3

Finally. I thought you drowned in there. Message sent: Saturday 2:25pm from Eddy

Étienne pocketed his phone, tried very hard not to run to the backyard, and instead opted for a brisk walk. He opened the door, stepped outside and for a moment let his eyes adjust to the sunlight, before he spotted Edward, sitting in the middle of their backyard, on what seemed to be the checkered tablecloth they used for picnics, with what seemed to be like an actual picnic spread.

Étienne’s heart did many funny different things in that moment.

Notably, it skipped several beats, tripped over itself, sped up for a moment, and soared.

He loved this ridiculous man. He truly, really did and he was incredibly lucky to have him in his life.

Étienne’s face split in a large grin and he laughed as he bounded towards the picnic setup, “Édouard! What is all of this?” Étienne practically let himself fall to the ground beside Edward so that he could properly tackle him into a tight hug and kiss the side of his face as many times as he wanted. Edward fell back and did his best not to fall on any of his carefully laid of dishes all the while brushing Étienne’s still wet hair out of his pretty green eyes.

“It’s a picnic, silly – I think they even pronounce it the same way in French,” He responded, trying to keep a straight face, but failed terribly and grinned, Étienne’s good humour contagious.

“Hon, this is amazing! Look at all of this!” Étienne took out his phone from his back pocket and took photo after photo of the set up – from the different salads, to the artfully arranged sandwich wedges (cut in tiny triangles, without any crusts), to what seemed to be at least two different types of scones (one savoury and one sweet, knowing Edward), to fruit and dessert. That went without mentioning the different types of drinks Edward had selected for their little picnic; homemade lemonade and iced tea, a cool pitcher of iced water and some of Étienne’s favourite craft beer. Edward had even gone so far as to get the cooler to keep everything perfectly chilled and had even made little levelling stands so that nothing would topple over. As Étienne got involved taking photos from close, then far, then of the details, Edward started striking silly poses, making Étienne laugh, and getting him to take photos of him as well.

Étienne loved all of this and told Edward as much, before pulling him back for another hug, “Surprise...” Edward said from the folds of Étienne’s arms, once Étienne had taken enough pictures to satisfy him for the moment. His fiancé beamed at him, before pulling him for a deep kiss, which left him completely breathless, “Wow, okay, remind me to organise backyard picnics more often,” He laughed, before he wiggled out of Étienne’s grasp to get the plastic dishes they used for when they ate outside out of the picnic basket – the ones with the colours stripes and the pink flamingos – the ones they had gotten when they were still living at the old apartment and Étienne had refused they get rid of for nostalgic reasons.

“This is absolutely amazing and everything looks absolutely great, but why did you go through all this trouble? It’s not a special occasion...” Étienne feared that with his crazy, hectic schedule of the past month he had completely forgotten about an anniversary, or something equally important, but try as he may, he wasn’t able to come up with anything and the last thing he wanted to do was let Edward down after he had gone out of this way to organise this little impromptu picnic.

“Did we ever need a special occasion to do something nice?” Edward asked him, gently teasing, as he handed him a dish and cutlery, “I wanted to do something special for you, Chéri. The weather finally turned for the best and I know you’ve been busy with work... thought it would be nice to spend the afternoon outside and do something different. I know winter and this rainy spring have been hard on you.” He said softly, combing his fingers through Étienne’s curls and he knew it was the right answer when Étienne tackled him in another hug and held him tightly. He knew it was the right answer when he saw Étienne’s beautiful green eyes sparkle with love and joy.

“You’re something else, you know that?” Étienne murmured to him, “My own personal ray of sunshine,” He added, making Edward’s cheeks pink ever so, “I know that whenever things get tough, I can always count on you to be there for me – to support me, thanks,” He placed the gentlest of kisses to Edward’s cheek and then let go of him to focus back on the food, giving Edward a much needed moment to recompose himself, “I guess we better dig in before any of this spoils – were you expecting more guests?” He joked as he started plating food on his plate.

“No, just me, you and your insatiable appetite,” Edward joked, recovering, poking Étienne’s sides.

“If it has anything to do with you, my appetite is always insatiable,” Étienne responded, sounding far too sincere, making Edward flustered all over again. He was going to be the end of him in the best possible way. Edward shoved his shoulder and then asked him to pass the quinoa salad.

The afternoon stretched out, the sun warming them as they chatted and caught up on the day. It felt nice, to be out in the yard, sitting on the checkered tablecloth with their shoes off, being able to brush their feet on the lush green grass, to feel the blades on the sole of their feet. Étienne complimented Edward on absolutely everything, saying that each new thing he tried was better than the last, as he stuffed his face with second helpings of almost everything. The picnic turned out to be delicious and they managed to put a fair dent in the food Edward had prepared. Étienne declared that the rest would serve as his lunches, or snacks, throughout the week and even though Edward knew that’s what was going to happen, he was still tickled pink to hear it.

Once they were satiated from the food, Étienne helped Edward bring everything back inside and put it away in the refrigerator, before he pulled his fiancé back outside, so that they could lie on the checkered tablecloth, under the gentle afternoon sun together, without a care in the world – taking a moment for themselves and enjoy the time they had. Étienne stretched luxuriously, curling himself around Edward and smiled brightly at him, feeling perfectly content in this little moment.

“This was by far the best picnic I’ve ever been on,” He said, voice soft, and Edward had to look away for a moment, as he chuckled, feeling oddly pleased with himself.

“Well, I’m glad you had a good time,” Edward said, reaching out for Étienne’s hand and giving it a squeeze.

“I always have a good time when I’m with you,” Étienne smiled at him, as white fluffy clouds streaked the sky. They stayed lying on their backs for some time, the notion of the passing minutes growing foreign, lost as they were immersed in their little bubble once more. After a moment or so, Étienne fished out his cell phone once more and looked through the photos he had taken earlier, Edward peering over his shoulder, and Étienne was dismayed when he noticed he didn’t have any of the two of them together, marking this monumental and extraordinary occasion.

Étienne sat up, Edward mimicking him, knowing that if he didn’t, Étienne would ask him to, and went along when Étienne turned the camera towards them both to take photo after photo, critically analysing each one, before declaring them perfect. Edward didn’t mind – loved looking back to the photos Étienne sent him when he had a free moment. He would always end up spending too much time looking at them, tracing over Étienne’s bright smile with his eyes, taking in how happy and still in love they looked. Sometimes, Edward would look through his photo archives, to the ones he had meticulously filed and sorted away by year, month, day, event name, to the ones of the “early days” and he would marvel at how much younger they looked; how much darker his hair had been, the different pair of glasses Étienne had worn in that year, the clothes Étienne had called fashionable then, and how good they looked together even then when they weren’t as surefooted around each other.

When Étienne was satisfied with the pictures, he lied back on the checkered tablecloth once more, and leaned on his side to be able to gaze fondly at Edward. Edward scooted just a little closer to his fiancé and silently thrilled when Étienne entwined their legs together. The late spring breeze caressed their skin and Edward chuckled when Étienne shivered lightly. Edward placed his hand on Étienne’s hip, on warm skin that felt familiar, on the exposed part of Étienne’s body, and he worked the skin with the pad of his thumb. He heard Étienne let out a small, content sigh, and watched as he closed his eyes, enjoying the moment and the attention.

Edward let his hand travel upwards, rucked up shirt following suite, until he could press his fingers into Étienne’s shoulder, warming up the knot that somehow felt like it was always there. Étienne pulled his lover closer, pulled Edward to him until their bodies were pressed flush together, trapped him in with arms and legs until Edward’s hand could dance on his back, on his shoulders, on the nape of his neck, and it was bliss. Étienne furrowed his face in the crook of Edward’s neck and melted into his embrace, relaxing under his touch.

Edward chuckled when he felt Étienne press kisses to his neck, let out a breathy, airy, little laugh when he felt Étienne suck gently on his skin, levelled with him to be eye-to-eye and looked at his best friend. If anyone would have told him… if anyone would have told him when he’d accepted that Kijiji ad that he’d embark on this crazy adventure – that his roommate would turn into his best friend and partner, he would have never believed them. And yet, here he was. And yet, even after so many years together, even now that they were engaged (he was engaged! He was going to get married! Him, Edward Murphy! Engaged! To the love of his life! It still felt surreal – it still felt like a dream – and he hoped if it was that he would never wake from it), every day felt like a new blessing.

Étienne cupped Edward’s cheek with his hand, caressed his skin ever so gently, ever so tenderly, and Edward leaned into the contact, breathed into it and savoured it. Étienne brushed his thumb over Edward’s lips, tilted his chin up to look into those hazel eyes he loved so much, and smiled softly at him. He leaned closer to his partner, nuzzling their noses together, breathing in together, before he captured Edward’s lips in the gentlest of kisses. Edward clung to Étienne, dug his fingers into his skin, bridged whatever distance was left between them, until it felt as though they were only one person. He kissed Étienne back, kissed him softly and languidly, slowly and sweetly, until they were both left breathless and a little dazed, before they started all over again.

There was no urgency, no press for time, nowhere to go safe for this space they had carved out for themselves, this mess of entangled limbs and gentle caresses, lazy smiles and joy. Edward held Étienne close, sighed contently when Étienne nuzzled his neck once more and settled around him, rubbed his back absent-mindedly as he felt Étienne settle against him, his breathing slowly evening out. Edward watched, amused, as the clouds kept passing in the sky, casting patterns on the ground; he watched the light play on Étienne’s hair, casting golden highlights to it, watched his chest rise and then fall, before the cycle commenced once more; he watched long lashes flutter for a moment, before settling, he watched and kept watch, not wanting anything to interrupt Étienne’s rest. He looked tranquil and peaceful, the worry lines Edward sometimes saw around his eyes gone, and if all naps could have this power, he would never wake Étienne from them.

He raked his fingers through Étienne’s curls, gentle and careful, marvelling like always at how they bounced back into place. Étienne remained oblivious to the attention, perhaps enjoying it in his slumber, and Edward couldn’t help himself and think that he looked adorable, a little slack jawed, as he slept with pure abandon against him.

With Étienne’s weight engulfing him, it was easy for Edward to grow drowsy himself, warm, full and feeling safe. He didn’t bother fighting it off and instead welcomed this little rest in the sun after a hectic morning. He dozed off, Étienne snoring softly by his side, tucked into the warm spring afternoon.

Étienne was surprised to step outside into the backyard and see a picnic set up on the grass, away from the patio. Edward had set up the table and chairs, ever mindful of Étienne’s leg, unsure if sitting on the ground for such a long time would be comfortable for him or not, and Étienne was touched.

“What’s all this for?” He asked as he walked towards the spread.

“Figured we could do something different – it seemed like a nice day for a picnic”.

Étienne studied the food on the table and he found a familiar checkered tablecloth covering the table top, a picnic basket that could have been the same they had used so many years ago, and he couldn’t help but marvel at the spread Edward had prepared.

There seemed to be all his favourites, from the different salads, to the artfully arranged sandwich wedges (cut in tiny triangles, without any crusts), to what seemed to be at least two different types of scones (one savoury and one sweet, knowing Edward), to fruit and dessert. And that went without mentioning the different types of drinks Edward had selected for their little picnic; homemade lemonade and iced tea, a cool pitcher of iced water and what turned out to be some of Étienne’s favourite craft beer.

Étienne found himself reaching into his back pocket for his phone and took a moment to take a photo of the spread, Edward rolling his eyes, fond, “At the rate you take photos, we’ll never eat,” He teased.

Étienne ignored his remark and instead walked over to Edward’s side, pulling him close for a picture, “Hush and smile, Ed,” Edward laughed and placed an arm around Étienne’s waist, keeping him close, before Étienne snapped the photo.

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #étienne maisonneuve #au #ficlet #pre amnesia au #amnesia au #this took two days.#the attached photos were left vague on purpose

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savefarris124-blog · 6 years ago

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Love Me Tinder

Words To Live By: “I just wish I could start a relationship 12 years in. When you really don’t have to try anymore and you can just sit around and goof on TV shows and then go to bed without anybody trying any funny business”--Liz Lemon (Tina Fey), 30 Rock.

Reader, I have an embarrassing confession to make: I am over the age of 30 and still single. You might think this isn’t terribly shocking as far as secrets go. Once upon a time I may have agreed with you. That was before older people started constantly asking me, “When are you getting married?”

I grew up watching a healthy dose of NBC’s Must-See TV, featuring such gems as Suddenly Susan and Just Shoot Me. These two shows featured 30-something women trying to balance a crazy career while possibly looking for love. The premise may seem clichéd now but in 1998 it was…also clichéd. Still these shows were great for background noise, and they infused me with the subversive notion that somehow a 30-year-old woman could walk into a room and nobody would be offended by her lack of husband.

I will confess that questions about my marital status bother me. Naturally I should be bothered on feminist principle and all that jazz, and I am. I am also bothered because I honestly do wish to fall hopelessly, sickeningly in love and share a life of adventures with somebody who sees me as I am. We would know each other’s strengths and weaknesses, push each other to become the best versions of ourselves, and laugh at jokes only we can understand.

Most people go about finding love by dating, but my dating history is spotty at best. I could go into details both depressing and/or absurd but here is the rundown of my greatest hits:

I needed to break out of this cycle. I had tried online dating a little in the past, but this time I decided to dive deep. After all, if the internet could bring a custom-made Scarlet Witch headpiece right to my door why not a boyfriend? I set out on an epic quest to become a Tinderella. And guess what? I’m engaged!

Just kidding; I burnt out after six weeks of extreme dating. During this period I went out with four guys, which for me is the equivalent of trying to run the Boston marathon when your warm-up routine has been a coma. Still I learned some valuable lessons. Learn from my mistakes, readers, and godspeed.

DO: Choose a Good Profile Picture

One of the reasons I dragged my feet on joining Tinder is that I hate every photo of me ever taken. I therefore avoid cameras at all cost. “What am I doing?” I ask myself as I dodge behind the nearest potted plant. “How will I remember that I have a fun, enviable life?” I then leap out in front of the camera, contort my body into an unnatural posture never used in real life, and smile. My reward is yet another awkward photo of myself that I will destroy immediately. Wash, rinse, repeat for the next ten years.

Because the only way to get better at something is practice, I spent my summer learning the art of complete narcissism. Going to a play? Let me take a selfie. Someone’s having a party? Selfie time. Spending a relaxing day inside to avoid the heat? Selfie marathon! I took enough selfies to burn through my phone’s memory. One of my best friends got married in October and I used the opportunity of professional hair and make-up to snap roughly 800 pictures of myself and maybe two of the bride for good measure. This strategy worked though, because I now have a whole six of photos of myself I can show with pride neutrality.

This photo obsession may seem like overkill, but online dating profiles have no context. The bio section is short, and half the time people don’t fill it out. Therefore if a guy doesn’t smile in his photos I assume he doesn’t have a sense of humor. If he takes a shirtless pic in a place where he shouldn’t be shirtless I assume he is a douchebag. If he refuses to post any photos with his face I assume he will murder me, and nobody has time to deal with that.

DO: Fill Out the Bio

Just take 5 minutes. Give me something. This is a system set up for convenience; I don’t want to dig. Also saying, “Just ask” doesn’t count. You are not mysterious, or rebellious, or beyond labels. You are lazy. I, too, am lazy, so I understand the impulse, but one of us has to put in the effort so it may as well be you.

DO: Play It Safe

Tell your friends whenever you are going out with someone new. Not only is it useful in case they need to file a police report, but also fun. The highlight of meeting so many new people was brainstorming safety code phrases with my gal pals. One friend insisted on the word “Pikachu.” I can’t remember if that meant I was safe or in trouble; it doesn’t matter. From “banana hammock” to “crazytown” to “vanilla gorilla” anything works for this purpose. Granted if a guy sees you get or send a text during the date, odds are he knows the score but a code word gives you at least some sort of deniability. That way in case he grabs the phone out of your hand like a psycho you can claim it’s just an inside joke, and oh my God, what the Hell has dating come to in the 21st century?

DON’T: Set Your Expectations High

“The love of my life may be just a swipe away,” I told myself when I signed up for Tinder. This is technically true, but you know who else is just a swipe away? Every other guy in this city. The beauty of Tinder is that you can see just how much is out there. The downside is that most of it is hot garbage.

I don’t want to just rag on Tinder, though I could. They have a filter for age, a filter for distance, but they don’t let me set a filter for douchebags (again, those guys who think I’m impressed by their refusal to let shirts dampen the glory of their doughy physiques). However at least Tinder respects my filters.

On the advice of a friend I also tried Coffee Meets Bagel, the site where she met her current boyfriend. While CMB seemed a bit more promising at first with its “select picks” it is rapidly disappointing me. I am 32 right now, and a very different person from when I was in my 20s. I told CMB I only wanted to date guys over the age of 30, but 75% of my picks are 29 or under. One time they selected a 28-year-old man for me that was clearly in his 50s. Between his gray goatee and his paunch he looked like Santa Claus with a mid-life crisis. Is that a fluke? Doubtful. Today the same thing happened, except this guy’s alternate pictures are all of Jesus. I think I’ll pass.

DON’T: Ignore Yellow Flags

Sure we all can recognize red flags when we see them, but what about yellow flags? I ended up falling hard for a guy who was funny and introspective. He loved to sing and act goofy, and being around him made brought out the light-hearted dreamer in me. He also ended up being a massive jerkwad.

He would schedule every date to be at or around his place. This part I was sort of okay with because I don’t want near-strangers knowing where I live, but it did mean I did all the driving. He tried to reschedule our first date so he could hang out with his friends that night, and did reschedule our second date. On said second date he had his phone out during dinner so he could play a Ghostbusters game. In my head half of me would say, “Whatever, we don’t know each other that well, plus you know he has ADHD. Nothing like being a high-maintenance bitch to drive men away.” The other half would say, “You came all this way, battled for downtown parking, worked your ass off to look cute for this date, let it be rescheduled, and he can’t even set his phone down for one minute? WTF?”

Yet somehow this guy emerged as the leader of the pack despite the fact that if I made a list of “Guys Who Displayed Basic Consideration For My Time” he would rank 3 out of 4. What can I say, the heart wants what it wants, and also I have terrible self-esteem and judgment. It came as a shock to absolutely no one that after our third and final date he sent me this text message:

Hmm, yes, “exhausting.” This was technically true, because I was exhausted. On the evening of our last date I bolted out of work at 5:00, drove home, took a shower, shaved my legs despite being on my period and knowing there would be no shenanigans that night, picked out an outfit, got dressed, decided that my outfit was too sexy for a night free of said shenanigans (I’m not cruel), put on a different outfit, looked around for my steampunk earrings because he mentioned he loved steampunk, did my make-up, and drove downtown to hang at his place at 7:00.

He got out of work late, fit in a workout, took a shower, and ordered pizza. Poor baby. Poor me. I had thought of calling him on this BS multiple times but refrained because I didn’t want to scare him off. Now here we were a month later, him running away anyway and me peeved I had invested so much effort into a guy when I had seen from the start he wouldn’t do the same.

So here I am now, licking my wounds from this latest foray into dating. I won’t give up completely, but I have learned that I’m the kind of person that needs to take things slow. If that means I only date one person at a time, then I’m going to make damn sure that person is worth it. Will I go back to online dating? Maybe, although now when I check out Tinder or CMB instead of seeing possibilities all I see is a vast wasteland of strangers staring back at me. I’ll try again in the new year, but for now I’m back to my previous dating strategy of hoping to get hit on the head and ending up with a special kind of amnesia where I get transported into my favorite TV universes to romance the hot male leads. Sure Peter Stone has issues but at least he won’t constantly reschedule our steady date night on Thursdays at 9:00.

#blog #words to live by #dating #tinder

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purplesurveys · 3 years ago

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1237

disclaimer I’ll be taking into account the last 24 hours for the first part because it’s 3 in the morning and I haven’t really done anything yet lmao anywho

survey by chasingghosts

Have you today?

Looked in a mirror? Yeah I took a shower earlier so I couldn’t really avoid the mirror in the bathroom.

Watered a plant? I don’t do plants. Can never take care of them to save my life.

Worn denim? I did, actually. Some package came for me earlier today and I didn’t really look the most decent, so before heading out to meet the delivery guy I grabbed the first jacket I saw, which was denim.

Washed your hair? Yes, when I took said shower a couple of hours ago.

Been in pain? Yup my back and shoulders feel like hell from sitting on my ass all day while at work.

Had a nap? Kinda, I guess? I fell asleep at around 9, 9:30ish...woke up at around 1 AM, and here I am now. I don’t plan on sleeping anymore.

Brushed your teeth? Yup.

Kissed someone? Just my dogs.

Used a cheese grater? No, I don’t think I’ve consumed any cheese today either.

Eaten something sweet? Nah, it’s all been salty/savory for me today.

Spoken to a stranger? Sure.

Dropped something? I drop my vape pen at least once a day, so yes.

Felt upset in some way? UGH yeah. Our internet disappeared at around 2 in the afternoon and it still hasn’t come back, and our service provider’s social media has been unsurprisingly unresponsive and useless. I’ve been using data since then and I’m just worried about how long this would take because I don’t want to keep spending just for extra load. I also have my Korean language classes this afternoon which will for sure require a lot of data :/

Drank coffee? I have a full mug of it beside me right now.

Walked for more than thirty minutes? LOL no, I’ve only stayed indoors.

Signed up for something? Hmm I don’t think so.

Travelled in a car? See two answers above this.

Opened a can? Nopes.

Thought about doing something crazy? Just me thinking about dropping another couple thousands on merch until I mentally slapped myself and told myself I’d be fucking stupid if I spent on one more piece of stupid merch.

Listened to a new song? Yes, I tried listening to Love Shot by EXO over dinner since my sister had started humming it. It was okay but I quickly shifted back to BTS right after hahaha.

Written in a notebook? No. I only do so when I practice my Hangul but I have yet to work on that today.

Fed an animal? Yes, I have pets.

Checked your emails? I mean that’s kind of the standard in my job lol I have my Gmail tab up throughout the 8 hours.

Told someone you love them? No.

Made a phone call? No, I’m rarely the one who makes the call.

Have you in the last week?

Travelled on a bus? I’ve never ridden a bus solely for commuting by myself. I’ve only been on them when it’s the arranged vehicle, like for school field trips or our family vacations. Our public buses are quite bleck and unsanitary and the drivers maneuver the buses like it’s their last goddamn hour on the planet, so I don’t get on them myself.

Washed your face? I mean yeah, when I take showers. I don’t really have a skincare routine though, if that’s what you mean.

Used a blender? We rarely have a use for a blender at home so we don’t even have one.

Received a phone call? No. My biggest pet peeve is when delivery riders call me up once they’ve arrived at our place just to say “I’m here,” but fortunately the one assigned to me today to deliver my package knew how to use the doorbell.

Talked to someone you dislike? Yeah I have to deal with a client I absolutely fucking despise everyday.

Consumed alcohol? I’ve thought of it, but then I thought of how sleepy I get whenever I drink alcohol and decided against it because I wanted to stay up tonight.

Eaten pasta? Yeah, my dad made Filipino-style spaghetti for dinner the other evening.

Planned for an event? Not an event per se but sure, I made some plans? Punk is slated to make his debut on AEW/return to pro wrestling next weekend or sometime soon, idrk - and this is a big fucking deal omg, 15 year old Robyn has arisen from her grave - and Andi and I made plans to watch it together so we can freak the fuck out.

Asked someone for a favour? Yes. I borrowed cash from my mom since the delivery fee for my packaging earlier was apparently cash on delivery.

Watched something funny? I mean I watch BTS clips pretty much everyday and a gigantic chunk of them are hilarious.

Trimmed your nails? No, but I did bite on them multiple times.

Browsed Reddit? I did actually! After a super long time of not doing so...I just decided to randomly check out r/bangtan to see what’s going on there. It’s mostly Americans though so idk if I’ll make a habit out of browsing.

Talked to yourself? Oh this happens a few times a day.

Purchased tickets for something? Nope.

Felt like you were annoying someone? Just about everyday.

Cleaned a toilet? I have not.

Reminisced about the past? Not really. I’ve made references to the past with friends, but we didn’t ~reminisce.

Used headphones? Yeah I always use my headphones when playing Rhythm Hive so I can hear the beats better.

Laughed with a friend? Many times. Always just virtually, though.

Cooked dinner and then didn't feel hungry? I don’t cook.

Written a list? LOL yes. My period had been coming and I noticed I was crying over the smallest, stupid things, so I started a list of the things I cried over the last week. The funniest item on the list is probably an ad that was shown to us during a campaign briefing...

Played an instrument? Nope.

Felt jealous or envious? I will sometimes feel the tiniest tinge of envy and wistfulness when I see my friends in happy and fulfilled relationships, but it passes in a second.

Ignored a text message on purpose? So many hahahahahahah

Congratulated someone? Yes!!! Graduation season was last week so I congratulated a shit ton of friends.

Have you in the last month?

Made a piece of art? Making art was never made for me, so no.

Rewatched one of your favourite tv shows or movies? Yep, I rewatched Friends a couple of weeks ago.

Called a plumber? Nope.

Been to a see a doctor? I mean, technically I guess yeah? When I had to get my vaccine shot.

Finished a book? I haven’t done that in a while.

Had a crush on someone? Just celebrities but I won’t count those.

Travelled on a train? I haven’t.

Worn heels? Haven’t done this either.

Been to a friend's house? I’ve been to Angela’s house semi-regularly, yup.

Shared a bed with someone? Nah.

Been to see a movie at the cinema? I haven’t been to the cinema in like a year and a half.

Paid attention to celebrity drama? Erm not really. I also haven’t been up to date with that, especially with American celebrities hahaha.

Felt anxious? Maybe not anxious but nervous.

Taken an elevator? Yeah in Mega since that place is so goddamn big.

Given someone the cold shoulder? Yep, my mom when she is being extra annoying/condescending.

Purchased a new book/game/movie? I guess you can say that? I bought a subscription pack on Rhythm Hive because I was using it regularly anyway.

Applied for a job? I already have a job, so no. I did get a job proposal on Linkedin a couple of weeks ago with another PR firm, but I took a look at their clients just to see if the offer was something I could sink my teeth into - and even though their brands were quite high-profile, they were in industries I didn’t particularly find interesting.

Used a printer? Nah.

Had lunch in a park? No.

Gotten a manicure or pedicure? I have not.

Made an appointment? Just for my shot but that’s it.

Had a blood test done? Noooooo not another one of those plz.

Suffered from a major bruise? Not a major bruise but a huge bloody gash on my thigh after a particlarly rowdy play session with Cooper. There’s still a very visible scar on me.

Researched a topic in-depth? I do this quite a bit in my work, yes.

Have you in the last year?

Been to the beach? No, I’ve mostly stayed at home since July 2020.

Visited someone in the hospital? I haven’t. Too risky.

Played pinball? No, it’s never interested me.

Travelled on a plane? I haven’t. :(

Worn a costume? Sure, for Halloween last year I went as Dora.

Been thrift shopping? Not that I can recall, no.

Thought about getting pregnant or got pregnant? Definitely not at this point in my life.

Made a big life decision? Uh yeah this past year was both the worst and best rollercoaster I’ve ever been on. I can’t believe it’s almost been a year since that shitty breakup...

Changed a lightbulb? Nope.

Framed something and put it on your wall? No but I have been meaning to do this for months. I just never get around to buying some actual picture frames lol.

Been stargazing? Not the professional kind of way with a telescope and all. I’ve just lied on my back at the rooftop to gaze at the night sky and the stars.

Made a new friend? So many!!! Reena is probably my bestestestest new friend <3 I mean we’ve met a while ago, as Angela’s mutual - even had a few drinks or so together - but we didn’t become closer until just a couple of months ago.

Added to a collection? I’ve had merch that arrive every week or so these days because I bought a ridiculous amount of shit between May and June when I was a new Army. I’ve substantially calmed down now, but I should expect to receive my running list of ordered merch up until September LMAO. At first I used to bitch about the really long shipping period considering all the products come from Korea, but after 3 or 4 fulfilled orders you kinda get used to it.

Been to the dentist? No.

Broken up with someone? Yessss. I didn’t know it at the time but it would turn out to be one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

Held a baby? Nah.

Created a budget? Yeah...doesn’t mean I’ve been successful. I always go over, hehe.

Confessed feelings for someone? There isn’t anyone to do that for.

Had surgery of any kind? Nopes.

Quit a job? No and I have no plans to anytime soon.

Been in a car accident? Nah but my dad has, c/o some stupid and unattentive motorcycle driver.

Purchased something worth over a grand? So in US dollar conversion, around P50,000? Hell no.

Been on vacation at least 500km/300mi from home? No. :( The farthest we’ve been to was Tagaytay and I think that’ll remain the same for a while.

Applied for an academic course? Yes, my Korean class.

Had your photo taken by a professional? No, it’s been over a year since my last professional shoot for my senior photos.

#survey #surveys

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roseonhissleeve · 7 years ago

Text

Have A Little Faith: Chapter Eight

"At the touch of love everyone becomes a poet."

- Plato

TW: domestic abuse.

Harry and I saw each other every day for a week straight.

We stayed in Rome for another two days after our first date. We mainly walked around the city together, always hand in hand, and Harry stopped to take a lot of pictures every once in a while. He tried to get me in some of them, but I always protested.

“Harryyyyyy, no more pictures!” I’d squeal, covering my features with my hands once I saw that he’d pointed the camera lens in my direction again.

“None of that! You make them prettier, Ro,” he’d reply with a shit-eating grin, taking the opportunity to snap another photo of me with my face covered and my giggles filling the air.

The days that passed were filled with laughter, and the more I opened up to him the more I realized how genuinely funny Harry was. He made me laugh during these seven days more than I had in the past few months of my life.

He got excited about everything—I had lost track of how many times he’d seen a gelato place or pizzeria and tugged on my hand to RUN towards it, as if the place was going to combust if he didn’t get there soon enough.

The excitement he lived through his life contrasted the dull ache that had plagued mine for a long time, and it make me feel things I’d long forgotten existed.

We’d travelled together all the way to Naples, Italy.

We sat at a pizzeria that was in the middle of a quiet plaza.

It was in the heart of the city—we’d just walked through a local art exhibit and now we were stopping for lunch. The small square tables were covered by the shade of the umbrellas that had been placed in the center of the tabletop, and the metal chairs were dressed in soft cushions on the seat. Harry was drinking a beer, his sunglasses sitting on the top of his head. He was wearing a black button-up shirt, and the top few buttons were undone as if to reveal the top of the sparrows that resided on his chest. His sleeves were rolled up and every so often I would take a peek at the tattoos that lay on his skin—I still hadn’t had a proper look at them.

I took a sip out of my glass of wine and watched as he tapped away at his phone screen, his lips forming a little smile that I’m sure he wasn’t conscious of.

“How’s Gemma?” I asked as I set the wine glass down on the table. I waited a few seconds as he finished typing out his message and hit “send,” putting his phone face down on the table afterwards.

“Gem’s doing great. Wants to talk on the phone later, wants more pictures, wants to know everything,” he chuckled, shaking his head a little bit at his own words. “Have I told you how nosy she is?”

“You have.” I giggled, taking another sip of my drink. Over the past week I realized how close Harry really is with his sister—they messaged each other at least once every single day, and he’d called her on the phone a couple of times. “It must be nice to have an older sibling.”

“It was a pain sometimes. Gem was real bossy when we were little, but I can’t imagine my life without her.” He explained, wrapping his large hand around his bottle of beer as he watched my features. “What’s it like having little sisters?”

“It’s the closest thing to being a parent that I’ve ever experienced without actually being a parent.” I replied, taking a small pause to formulate my thoughts into words. “They’re so much younger, it’s sometimes hard to connect with them any other way. Caroline, the middle one, struggles a lot with being in the middle. I think that my parents compare them both to me a lot without even really realizing, which isn’t fair to them a lot. April, the littlest one, is a bundle of energy. Lives in her own world even now that she’s a bit older…I, um, had to spend a little while away from them about a year ago, and I think Caroline’s still mad at me for that. She was upset when I came on this trip.”

I edited my words carefully as to not give anything away that I wasn’t prepared to share.

The truth was, my relationship with Caroline had been rocky ever since Elijah cut me off from them. I thought that coming back home would make it better, but it hadn’t yet.

My entire body was shaking.

My fingers were clenched around the strap of my backpack that was hanging at my side, and even though I knew it was safe to let go and that I didn’t need to carry it any further, I couldn’t release. My muscles and senses were all shrieking at the top of their lungs, still high on adrenaline and fear from the past twenty-four hours.

Escaping took a lot out of me.

I stood at the front door for at least a good ten minutes before I scrounged up the courage to even lift my hand. When I did, I froze.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of the large engagement ring that sat on my finger. It made me want to throw up, and my hand immediately went numb against all my better reasoning telling me to keep calm. It felt like shackles—it chained me to the person that I had become under the weight of everything that Elijah had done to me. It was symbolic of everything that had been lost, everything he had chipped away with his words that sliced me like knives and his less-than-gentle hands.

I released my backpack and remained unresponsive to it as it fell to the ground. My mind was suddenly a one-way train with its only mission being to remove the accessory off of my finger. At first it wouldn’t budge—I grasped onto it and wiggled it firmly, uncaring of the sharp pain that was shooting through my nerves. The skin around the cool metal began to swell and turn a light shade of pink, and tears burned behind my eyelids. I could feel my throat closing as if I was being hung.

With enough pressure I managed to finally remove it, and as soon as it was no longer keeping me captive I felt like I could finally breathe again. I didn’t have much time to think before I heard the lock on the front door rattling, and I scrambled to get myself together. I picked up the backpack from the ground and shoved the ring in the front pocket, but that was all I had time to do before the door swung open and I heard a familiar voice.

“Rachel?”

I looked up to see my father’s face.

My heart immediately dropped to the floor. He looked like he’d aged endlessly in the months that I’d been gone. He’d let his beard grow out more than he usually did, and there were bags under his eyes where there used to be joy. His lips looked like they’d spend hours in a fine line, and his eyes were dull. They were then filled with confusion, as if he were trying to decide how to feel, and finally flickers of pain.

But most of all, love.

“D-Daddy…” I choked out softly, my hands still trembling as I looked at him. My eyes were red and puffy from crying for the past countless hours, and I hadn’t slept in two days. I wasn’t the same little girl that had moved away months earlier, and he wasn’t the same man.

We were both broken and it was all my fault. I wouldn’t be surprised if he told me to leave and never return again.

But then he wrapped his arms around me.

I felt a wave of safety run down my entire body that I had forgotten even existed. It was like I was a little girl again and had just woken up from a nightmare and crawled into bed next to him. I was finally home. I could feel and hear his soft sobs escape his large frame and they were soon joined by my own tears. I wrapped my arms around him tightly and he held me, as if he was trying to protect me from everything bad in the world, and for the first time in forever I didn’t feel like my body was collapsing into itself.

Half an hour later I was in the kitchen with a cup of hot chocolate, wrapped around an old blanket and sitting in front of my mom and dad. My mother had also cried when she saw me, and it’d taken her significantly longer to let go of me than my father. She immediately

called one of her friends and asked them to pick up my sisters from school while my dad made me some food.

They welcomed me with open arms, and that in itself was enough to break my heart because it was so much more than I thought I deserved.

“He wouldn’t let me use the phone,” I began, staring at the cup in my hand as my parents looked at me from across the table. My hands had stopped shaking and I grasped the mug as if my life depended on it, because it was warm and it was familiar and it was permanent and wouldn’t disappear on me. “About a week in I found my cell phone in a wet load of laundry. He said it was an accident, but now I think he did it on purpose. He wouldn’t let me use his and he said that it was too expensive to fix mine or get a new one.”

“That’s when I started writing you letters,” I explained, my voice steady for once. “I went to the post office every day and he would let me leave the house, but when he realized where I was going he got…he didn’t like it.”

I visibly shuddered as I thought about that first night that he’d found out I was writing to my parents. It was the first night that he’d been physically violent, the first time he’d laid a finger on me without my consent and it was branded into my memory for the rest of my life.

“I should’ve known what…what he was…” I whispered, and that’s when I began to lose it. Tears ran down my cheeks and I lifted the mug of warm liquid to take a sip, finding a strange reassurance in the burn as it went down my throat.

“Oh, Rachel…” My mother exhaled, and I could see that she was holding back tears. My father wasn’t as good at keeping it together as she was, and I could see the rage behind his eyes.

“I’m sorry I d-didn’t come back sooner…I’m sorry, mom…” I exhaled in raspy breaths, shoulders heaving.

Suddenly I heard the front door open, and little voices coming from the hallway.

“MOM! April got in trouble today!”

“No I DIDN’T! MOM, CAROLINE’S LYING!”

“MOM!”

I heard quick footsteps that stopped suddenly when they got to the kitchen.

They looked so much bigger.

Caroline had grown at least half a foot since I had left. She looked taller and a thousand years more mature, and that was probably partly my fault. Even her face looked older, but her eyes were still the beautiful hazelnut color that suited her perfectly.

April looked like she’d grown even more, if that was even possible. She had cut her hair so now it was at her shoulders, when the last I knew she was growing it out so she could be like Rapunzel.

They both stared at me with wide eyes, and April was the first to break the silence.

“Sissy!” She shrieked, and in the time it took me to stand up and take a few steps towards her she’d already begun launching herself at me, her tiny arms wrapping around my neck tightly as I felt her legs cling around my body. She was heavier than before, too, but I wasn’t letting go for anything in the world.

“Hi, munchkin,” I replied, pressing kisses upon kisses to her cheek and giggling softly when I heard her laugh. Tears of joy were filling my eyes, and I gave her a tight squeeze. I felt like I could fly. It felt like freedom, being with somebody who didn’t see me any differently. Someone who didn’t know what happened to me.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Caroline staring at me from the doorway. I lowered April onto the ground and flashed Caroline a hesitant smile.

“Hi, Carebear,” I said softly, and a flicker of recognition appeared in her eyes. It wasn’t until then that I noticed how tired she looked.

“Hi…” she murmured, and I took a few steps towards her before kneeling down so that I could be more at her level. “Are you going to leave again?”

Her words broke my heart more than it already was, and I shook my head without a thought.

“Never again.”

“Ro?”

“Mm, yeah?”

“I asked you if you miss them?”

Harry’s voice pulled me away from my thoughts and I looked up to meet his gaze. There was patience and understanding in his eyes, and it made me smile.

“Every day. They mean more to me than they’ll ever know,” I admitted, to which he simply reached across the table and took my hand. My smile widened a little as he brushed his

thumb across my skin, and we stayed completely silent for a moment before we were interrupted.

“Two margarita pizzas!” A booming voice announced, and I looked up to see a little Italian lady holding two very, VERY large dishes of pizza in her hands. She set them both on the table and my eyes widened as I took in the size of the thing—it was the equivalent to an extra-large pizza back home, and I was excited to eat it.

“Thank you,” Harry said with his signature grin, and the lady walked back into the restaurant, leaving us out in the patio by ourselves.

“Holy crap!” I gasped, looking down at the pizza with a grin. It looked delicious and traditionally Italian, which meant it was going to be amazing. “I am so excited, it’s not even funny.”

Harry threw his head back a little bit and laughed at my declaration, his face flashing with mischief before he continued.

“I bet you can’t eat more than me.”

“You’re on, Styles.”

***

“I beat you fair and square.”

“I’m pretty sure you cheated, actually.”

“How do you cheat at eating pizza?!” I giggled, shaking my head. My large dish of pizza was empty after about forty-five minutes—his still had two slices, and I’d spent the last ten minutes teasing him about it. “You gotta lose sometimes, y’know.”

“I don’t always win,” he argued, flashing a lopsided grin.

“Um, you harassed me into going out on a date with you and now you haven’t left me alone for days. Something tells me you’re not used to losing,” I teased, lifting my nearly empty glass of wine to my lips as my eyes glimmered with mischief. His jaw dropped at my words with a hint of a laugh at the tip of his tongue, and he clutched his heart melodramatically.

“You really know how to break a guy’s heart, Ro. Those are fighting words,” he threatened, but the expression on his face was anything other than threatening and it made me laugh.

I shook my head, sitting up straight in my chair so I could lean forward before I spoke.

“Really, though. What’s something you want to do that you haven’t done before?” I took the last sip of my wine and set the glass down on the table again, my head feeling a bit warm and fuzzy but not enough to be of impairment.

Harry’s forehead crinkled a little bit as it always does when he’s deep in thought, and he leaned forward onto the table, pinching his lower lip softly between two of his fingers. There was a part of me that always wanted to sketch him just like that—in that moment where he was thinking, when his mind belonged to the stars.

“There’s something I’m looking for,” he began, leaning forward on his arms as if he was telling me a secret. “I…I don’t really know what, to be honest. But it’s something. I’ve seen so many places and met lots of people, I’ve done lots of things. And that’s not me being cocky, it’s just that I’ve been lucky enough to have the chance…But there’s something missing and I don’t know what it is.”

“Y’know when you wake up in the morning and you know you’ve had a really good dream, but you can’t remember it?” He continued, and I nodded my head at his words, deeply entranced in what he was revealing. “For the last little while I’ve felt like that. Like there’s something in my life that I want and I know I want it but I can’t quite describe why or what it is.”

“Like you’re walking but you don’t know the destination,” I offered. It was all that my life had been for the past several months.

“Yeah,” he said, nodding his head. His lips formed a smile again after having remained still for a little bit, and I could see his shoulders relax at the realization that someone finally understood. “Yeah, exactly like that.”

I simply smiled in return, tucking a bit of my hair behind my ear that had fallen out of my loose ponytail. I watched as he took a drink from his second bottle of beer, and we weren’t silent for long before he opened his mouth again.

“What about you, Ro? What’s something you want to do that you’ve never done?”

I nibbled on my lower lip anxiously as I thought up my response to this question. There were a lot of things that I wanted to do—more accurately, there were a lot of things I wish I’d never done in the first place. Most of the things I wanted to do were a response to that; find my own place, get a job, become independent, and stand up to Elijah. But I didn’t want to go into that with Harry, not now. I felt bad keeping my answer superficial when he had offered me so much and been so genuine, but it was all I was comfortable with.

“I want to climb Mount Vesuvius,” I said, my voice small but still audible. If Harry was somehow displeased with my answer he didn’t show it, and I could tell by his pause that he was waiting for me to continue.

“I told myself that I would do it while I was in Italy. My dad travels a lot, and he did it. I’ve always looked up to him, and I remember being so impressed when he did it that I wanted to do it myself.” I smiled at the memory of my dad coming back from his business trip, bringing back all sorts of souvenirs. From this trip in particular he’d brought back a snow globe with the volcano in it, because he thought it was hilarious that there was snow on a volcano. “That was when I was very young, but I’ve always wanted to.”

“Let’s do it!” Harry said, sitting up straight in his chair with a grin that reminded me of a little kid who just saw an ice cream truck. It made me laugh, and I shook my head with disbelief.

“Right now?!”

“Yes!”

“We can’t right now!” I protested, eyes widening. I wasn’t expecting him to take what I said and run with it, but the determination in his face was unmistakable.

“Yes we can!” He argued gently, but I could tell that he was letting up a little bit. Harry was amazing at knowing when to push me and when not to, and I think he was going to let this one go. “Okay, maybe not right now. But before we leave.”

I exhaled a small sigh, but I never stopped smiling at the beautiful man in front of me. I gave my head a small nod and gave in to his words, my smile widening a little bit when I felt him reach to take my hand in his grasp.

“Alright. You win.”

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#have a little faith #half #harry styles #harry styles fiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles story #harry styles writing #harry styles x ofc #harry styles oneshot #harry styles blurb #harry styles chapter #harry styles drabble #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #chapter eight #the destination

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aleksandrakv · 7 years ago

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Social media in Adam Lambert’s life&career

It’s been so long since I’ve written anything longer than a tweet about Adam, but this stanning lethargy doesn’t reflect the level of my interest in the man. It may appear so, but can the lack of online presence automatically imply the lack of interest? In today’s state of affairs, when artists have carefully constructed and heavily monitored internet presence, when YouTube views are everything and the most powerful politicians seem to pay more attention to Twitter than their jobs, it would be understandable if it could. The www. has finally become literally that – a worldwide group chat, where presidents tweet, where actors, musicians and sportsmen keep vlogs on YouTube, writers publish their essays on Facebook, and everybody comments.

Adam Lambert has chosen not to do so. In an era when YouTube stars become singers who get Saturday Night Live slots where they whisper the lyrics into a microphone, and when the top trending video which garnered more than 30 million views in a day is one of a reality star announcing her pregnancy, Adam has taken a quiet step back in the past few years - and I together with him. I couldn’t help it. Twitter has lost its appeal to me ever since a constant possibility that Adam could see a particularly flaily or witty tweet was no longer an option – the magic of giddy anticipation was gone. For all intents and purposes, Adam has semi-abandoned Twitter and moved to Instagram; a Facebook affiliated app which I never took a liking to.

I was upset and a little resentful. I didn’t understand why. Not only did I have to suffer the cruel Atlantic Ocean between us, but now we were on different online apps, which is a fate way worse than living on different continents, according to cyber sense of geography. In my bitterness, I even had an occasional mean thought on the subject. Oh yeah, that’s because he can ogle hot guys there. What about MEEE? Or, even worse: it’s because of the filters. The man LOVES a good filter, the vain queen. Or, absolutely the worst: he wanted to escape the twitter crazies. It was the worst because I should have known that the crazies are everywhere. I was bitchy, mean, and so, so wrong. This essay is my redemption. The price I want to pay for my stupidity, because Adam does have a social media presence, albeit not as aggressive as I might like. There is a reason for that, which he has already given. I had read it before, but it flew right over me like a sparrow, equally tender and fragile, leaving my head unruffled and thoughtless as if nothing had happened.

Even on his preferred social network, Adam’s behavior is somewhat atypical, in a sense that he doesn’t hesitate to share less than perfect photos. Unfiltered, sweaty, in-your-face, flaking makeup photos of the realistic kind - a rare occurrence among the Hollywood hotties. But he is a geek like the rest of us. The anticipation of waiting for the first photos to appear when he has a concert is one of the best parts of being his fan. Adam is incredibly photogenic, but sometimes, those photos are low quality ones, taken by fans on their phones, from pretty unflattering angles. Adam somehow manages to look great in most of them, despite the low angles and the fact that great physical exertion makes everyone look awful. Being photographed in the middle of an adrenaline rush while singing from the top of your lungs for two hours is challenging. His facial features almost rearrange with strain, but Adam simply knows how to pose and is rarely caught off guard – a life’s tiny miracle. I love those candid pictures. And Adam posts only the best of them.

It’s the professional photos where he shines the most. Those are usually true works of art, crispy sharp and simply stunning in their quality. I don’t think I’ve ever seen less than perfect professional photo of Adam. They capture the moments that would otherwise be missed and allow you to fully appreciate the visual side the concert. In videos, the focus is primarily on the sound and the movement, but if I had to choose which medium reflects Adam’s emotional state and journey during concerts best, I would choose photography. It’s a strange thing to say about a singer, but Adam has a very expressive face and body. It’s like their muteness and stillness don’t subtract, but add to the experience of Adam’s process of creation.

In addition to music photography, Adam posts everything and anything that’s important to him, seemingly with no rhyme or reason. His Instagram page is a mess, a potpourri of professional photos, fan photos, album covers, photos of his family, friends, his dog, travelling photos, fashion photos, and all that in uneven levels of quality which most posters would never allow themselves. Adam has it all, from professional HD quality to grainy and blurry shots taken by a phone. It’s a far cry from carefully coordinated, handpicked and posted after a thousandth try stylish representation of other serious posters. He doesn’t juice for a week before taking selfies. He doesn’t always filter. He doesn’t always look pretty. He isn’t always all mysterious and artistic. He’s sometimes such a goofball. He is definitely an undisciplined Instagram user.

It’s a revealing fact. He deletes his posts sometimes, and I’m not sure if it’s the morning after self-filtering, or he gets the call. Social media can make or break a career nowadays. But on the other hand, you can be a successful artist without constant media presence – although it is a pretty rare occurrence. The only example coming to my mind is Frank Ocean. There are artists who have a modest number of followers and YouTube views, and yet they can and do fill up arenas, just as there are artists who have millions of followers and cannot have a decent tour.

In Adam’s case, I feel like he is past making or breaking his career online. At this point, he doesn’t need a heavily moderated Instagram page or a vlogging channel to achieve anything - other than making me happier, that is. The fact that I would love if Adam was more present, by engaging with his fans more, or, in best case scenario, vlogging about his life and career (I would sell my firstborn for that), doesn’t mean much in grander scheme of things. Adam has allowed himself the luxury of doing what he wants, and his Instagram page reflects that in the clearest of ways. I am not saying he wouldn’t benefit from having 50 million followers on Twitter or Instagram, but, he just doesn’t have that. If he can’t get it from doing his job and being who he is, he will never get it anyway. He refuses to participate in the social media race. So, unlike many a budding YouTube star trying to make it in other fields by creating an ideal, unrealistic impression of themselves, with their uniform, heavily filtered, grayscale artsy photos, Adam’s multifarious posts do reveal a lot simply by not being what one would expect. He’s a rebel just for kicks there.

Oh, there is some vanity there; he isn’t above it nor does he pretend to be. He smizes and pouts in many filtered photos and videos, enjoying his flawless skin provided by Instagram CEO Kevin Systrom’s filtering system, turning his head like this and like that like a Valley girl – but that’s just Adam playing with his toy. He has this proclivity for ridiculous behavior; that and the fact that he loves the ageless chibi art of Creative Sharka makes me sometimes think that he has entered a serious fear-of-getting-old phase. It would have been true if he posted such photos only, which he most definitely doesn’t.

Adam is a naturally beautiful man, why does he have to goof around like that? Well, because he is so much more than that. Because more than stunning good looks, he has a killer sense of humor. Because more than looking pretty and feeding his vanity, he loves having fun. He mocks himself, too. “I swear I didn't realize I was making full duck face” is his own comment on a truly astounding full duck face he made while trying to credit Valentino for a clothing item. He loves stand-up comedy. He’s watched the Amy Schumer Leather special, and the Ricky Gervais Humanity special, and posted about both shows. That’s how I know.

There’s a selfie which he took while Antinous was being tattooed on his torso – a particularly painful experience, according to him; hence the awkward facial expression. The photo is so ridiculous and unflattering that it immediately reminded me of the comical selfies which Ricky Gervais takes all the time, trying to look as ugly as possible in them, thus expressing his mockery on the worldwide mania of posting unrealistically perfect photos. Adam has a comedic streak a mile wide, and not only does it come out in concerts and movie roles such as his part of Eddie in the Rocky Horror Picture Show, but also in his Instagram page as well. Unlike Ricky, Adam just wants to laugh at himself. Yes, he sometimes looks ridiculous and weird - don’t we all? He’s no bullshitter, and never will be.

Now would be a great moment to mention his Grandma June alter ego. So, Adam has decided it would be great to make himself look forty years older, name the character Grandma June and rant throughout several videos on many a current topic. Who? What? Adam, the most eligible gay bachelor of several times? Adam, the Zeus in a thong sex symbol for many? Unbelievable. Waves of discomfort could be felt throughout the shallower waters of the fandom. Was he just having fun with it? Was he mocking himself for overusing de-aging filters? Was he helping himself get over his own fear of aging by laughing at his own expense? Was it some kind of reverse psychology/psychotherapy via Snapchat filters? Was it to shock his fans who come to his page for hotness and beauty galore, only to find Grandma June blinking owlishly at them? The list is endless. It’s like he was saying, ‘yeah, I’m hot, but I’m also ridiculous, funny and a little bit on the crazy side.’ Who knows. It’s certainly less ridiculous than me putting words in his mouth. It is also very non-Hollywood of Adam, where ageism is rampant and the anti-aging industry flourishes, where kids start injecting botox as soon as they’re twenty and where a lot of people take faces they’re born with as a slight suggestion. Interesting topic.

We’re now traipsing deeper and deeper into Adam’s more hidden depths. This makes it sound like scrolling through his Instagram page is a voyage into the heart of darkness, the Apocalypse Now style; but it does feel adventurous after you parse through the regular job-related stuff. Such aside interests tell us a lot about him and his fascinations, like his love and respect for other artists. He is a true fan at heart, expressing himself unabashedly and passionately – so many pictures of Freddie, Bowie and George Michael, but also Goldfrapp, Demi, Lady Gaga, and all his musician friends. Sometimes, he puts the flailers in his own fandom to shame. I like that about him. I feel like it’s a level we can relate on. And I love that he doesn’t have cheap, tit-for-tat, I’ll-do-you-and-you-do-me mentality. When he says that he likes something, you better fucking believe that he does.

He also loves nature. He posts sceneries – the beloved Runyon Canyon, the Ibiza cruise, Mexico, Bali, Mykonos in Greece, Argentina, you name it - but, he will also post a photo of a single olive tree. The fandom speculated for three days about what it could possibly mean. He posted a video of a single butterfly flapping its wings, and a colony of bats, and a lonely gecko crawling up the wall and a mother duck and her ducklings swimming in the lake. Endless photos of Pharaoh don’t even count. Details from around him capture his attention in a way that he expresses his emotive, intuitive side by showing us the impact they have on him. In his private moments, he is a far cry from a wild rocker living his wild rock’n’roll life. He’s so much more than that. He’s a tree watcher. A butterfly watcher. A bird watcher. Life and observing life clearly excites him.

He also loves architecture. He will post pictures of streets and buildings, sculptures and monuments, from everywhere he goes, and he travels a lot. Someone else would probably spend all pre- and post-concert time in hibernation accumulating energy, but not Adam. He loves the bas-reliefs, ancient facades, the Greco-Roman culture, supporting columns and carvings of Venetian houses; but every now and then he will also post some strange things, like tombstones. He’s a traveler with a twist. When he goes somewhere new, he sometimes visits cemeteries. He’s been to Boston Cemetery and Buenos Aires Cemetery. He posted a photo of the entrance to Jesus’ tomb from his visit to Jerusalem. No matter what B Hollywood horror movies are trying to tell us, cemeteries are never about being creepy or frightful -- they are like a library for the imagination. Wandering cemeteries around the globe, reading headstones, thinking about the lives of the people there, the mind wanders into a thousand stories. It can be therapeutic. But, who knows what Adam’s motives were. All I know is that he is more than just a traveler – he is also a spiritual explorer.

In everything he does, he rarely stays within the lines. This diversity tells us that Adam is a complex man before he is an artist, and even less than he is an artist, that he is a promoting artist. His self-promoting campaigns are there, but ever so subtle and discrete - nothing like the aggressive campaigning that has become obligatory nowadays. I’m not talking about the management or the label part in it, or whoever is in charge of his promotion; just Adam’s own role in it. A few tweets, a few Instagram posts, mostly just informative in nature, before a new release. Regarding concerts, a tweet before and after is a rarity. An occasional review. He will sometimes post great photos after concerts, though. I have no idea how to explain such behavior other than to say that he doesn’t want to do it, nor does he feel like he has to. Maybe he is of the ‘an artist should never reveal too much and keep a level of mystery’ persuasion. Maybe he believes the music will find its way to those who want to hear it. Or maybe he just finds it tacky, as I do, the ad nauseam self-promoting of certain artists. Who knows. I certainly wouldn’t find it tacky if Adam did it. We’ll see how Era 4 will roll out and if Adam will be more talkative then. The one explanation I personally find the most believable is that he is a well-mannered man who believes that you should let someone else praise you, and not your own mouth; an outsider, and not your own lips; but that’s because I tend to attribute Adam superhuman qualities. He can’t be that much of a gentleman, can he?

He is not very verbose in his Instagram captions either; most of them, that is. His posts are usually with very little or no comment from him. He tags the people in the photo, or he gives credit to the photographer – he is pretty diligent about it. On few unfortunate occasions when that didn’t happen, we had a mutiny among the photographers which ended with bruised egos on both sides.

So sparse are his comments, that when you do bump onto a few loquacious ones, you just know that it must be something of utter importance or that he feels strongly about. You don’t have to guess anything then, or draw unfortunate conclusions, which is a game his fans like to play and that Adam likes to engage us in by dropping random hints. No game here – his words are loud and crystal clear, concise and to the point, and apart from bringing my attention to the relevance of such particular posts, they serve to remind me what a great thinker and an amazing human being Adam is. Those words are always about love and equality.

One of such glimpses into his more private, passionate side is certainly his love and appreciation for Creative Sharka, a fan who makes digital paintings and chibi art of Adam and the moments in his career. He has posted her art several times and even met with her during his tour - such gratitude and appreciation of a fan really warms my heart. It tells me what I already knew: that he is such a fan himself, a great lover of everything that inspires him and open in his heart for the reciprocal love exchange between artists as the highest form of flattery. He’s had such situation in his career several times, on various levels, but this one with a fan feels truly rewarding.

Creative Sharka gives him her art, but it doesn’t have to be a tangible thing. One of the most revealing and emotional comments he wrote under a photo from one of his performances reveals so much. It is a photo whose focal point are the backs of two people, two guys, who are leaning against one another in a hug, their heads connected, and they are facing Adam singing on the stage in the background. They are in the forefront, their body language speaking of love; Adam is in the background, perhaps inspiring such connection. His comment says, “Really in luv w this photo. So sweet.” I’ve never read Adam saying that about any picture, and it’s one of the amateur, fan ones, too – and all the more precious for that.

But, does he always feel the love? Do we? Most of the times, I am sure that he does. But I have always imagined Adam as a highly emotional guy, which also means a great capacity for sadness, too, especially with so many reasons for it surrounding us. There is one, literally one sad comment that I have encountered during all these years. It’s under a photo of Frank the Robot’s head, taken before the show, with the top half of it waiting patiently to be connected with its bottom half by diligent Queen crew, so that Adam can ride it and spew obscenities into the audience from its shiny, metallic head. “Sad Clown,” is Adam’s caption. I don’t know if he felt bad for Frank at that moment, or the words are about Killer Queen, but there is a possibility that the words are about Frank’s rider later on. Sometimes, he does have to hide his sadness and paint his smile on. Who doesn’t.

He truly belongs to one of the rarest of species – a beautiful man who becomes even more beautiful when he opens his mouth and speaks. Or sings. In the pre-Trump, pre-Brexit, pre-Vučić era, I used to take his words for granted. I believed everybody thought so, or almost everybody. I was spectacularly wrong. The bout of sadness that gripped me then is still not easing up. How can it? This Weltschmerz has affected everyone with a soul - Adam, too. Will our physical reality ever satisfy the demands of our minds and souls ever again? I believe so, as long as there are people like Adam, like Emma Gonzalez, like many others who are fighting for it. That is what hope sounds like. With rising urgency, Adam speaks up.

“Black lives matter. For all of u who totally miss the point of this movement, the GOAL is for all lives to matter equally. But as it stands, racism is preventing us from that ideal. We must fix the reality so we can grow toward hope.”

We must fix the reality… We really do, Adam. Faced with such thoughts, don’t all previous words about promotion and lack of internet presence sound frivolous? I am glad that this is how Adam feels. I am so proud of him for sharing his thoughts.

When he posted a photo of Freddie, pointing out the hypocrisy of the ruling US political party using Freddie Mercury’s music, some people seemed to have an issue with that. This was Adam’s reply:

“I realize that there are many different schools of thought frequented by people following me on social media. EVERYONE is entitled to their opinions and beliefs. Including me. This is MY Instagram page where I share my experiences and feelings. If you don't agree with something, that's perfectly ok with me - but I'm not going to refrain from being me, and no one is forcing you to either.”

And refrained he has not.

He’s spoken against the gun violence.

He’s spoken about Orlando. About Paris. About all mass shootings.

He’s also spoken at the Los Angeles Pride Resist March last year. Here are some of his words:

“I typically avoid publicly speaking about politics because of its divisiveness. People get real sensitive, and I ain’t trying to piss anybody off. But, this year things have gone way too far.

So I’m not speaking today about being a democrat vs. a republican. Today is about right vs. wrong. The current presidential administration has manipulated the country using fear and hate to gain power to divide us. Our differences are being used against us. And the shockwaves of this dangerous rhetoric have rippled throughout our community and beyond. And it fucking hurts. We’ve come way too far to stand by and watch our social progress be yanked backwards. It’s almost as if they’re going, ‘Eh, you’re different. You can’t sit with us.’ What the fuck is that? It’s childish and it needs to end now.

Our pride parade is usually an all out shit show of a party where we all dress up like crazy unicorns and prance around through the streets. Yeah! It’s a celebration of the progress we have made – our liberation, our freedom, our glitter. But this year, we are facing such dark forces that pride has taken on a deeper purpose. Protest. So today, we stand together in order to support anyone whose human rights are at risk. We resist homophobia. We resist transphobia. We resist misogyny. Bi-invisibility. We resist racism. Xenophobia. And we resist extremism, and anything else that helps promote hate. We stand defiant and will not be brainwashed. We refuse to be sucked into that kind of negativity.

But, I ask you not to fight hate with hate. We don’t want to be hypocrites. So how can we resist? I’ll tell you what I think: with unity, with visibility, truth, inclusion, acceptance, and most importantly – love.”

Don’t his words boom loud? Read them and abide by them. Don’t scroll through or ignore them.

Shame on those who think that Adam should only do his job and stop voicing his opinions and views.

Shame on those who, blinded by his beauty, refer to him as a Ken doll.

Shame on those who say that he is back in the closet.

In his Love Letter to the LGBTQ community, which was published in Billboard magazine last year, he talks more about what his community means to him:

“Y'all are my true inspiration. You're life lines that have kept me grounded and thankful. All the LGBTQ musicians, dancers, drag queens, bar stars, club kids, DJ's, designers, actors, stylists, glam squads..... YOU are my circus family. It is because of all those years traipsing round our nocturnal playgrounds that I had any sense of how and why I wanted to stay the course; to rep for my queer family!

And now 8 years later, the LGBTQ community has come SO far. I see fellow artists AND civilians coming out with no apologies and no fucks given. Despite the current obstacles we face, I am blown away by our progress. We have come so far. My true fans share the same principles so we continue to welcome other alien weirdos into our family. Thank you ALL for inspiring and supporting my journey. I promise to keep doing the same for all of you.”

Should he speak more frequently? Adam has voiced his opinions time and again, but he won’t misuse the opportunity given to him. He has a sophisticated sense for not crossing the line between his art and his humanitarian fight. He never pushes anything under anyone’s nose; not his art; not his fight. He never uses just causes as a self-promoting opportunity.

This is all part of the reply to the question from the beginning about what the lack of social presence can mean. His social presence isn’t lacking, it is just of the unobtrusive kind. It’s all out there, only a few clicks away. Are we so used to the constant media shoveling content down our metaphorical throats that we can’t even register when something’s said only once?

Apparently, I am. Because I have already read Adam Lambert’s own explanation about deciding to moderate his social media presence and it hasn’t even made a blip on my radar at the time. I won’t tell you where his words are from, you can try to guess. It’s a direct quote. It says everything.

How pathetic now seems the discussion about flattering vs. less flattering photos? Don’t ask this man about the size of his gauges for a hundredth time and expect him to engage with his fans more. But Adam does, he does engage, for he isn’t a mean man and he answers the same trivial questions again and again. It’s perhaps a much better option than talking, I don’t know, about Weltschmerz. Sometimes, such discussions are better avoided, and not only that - he has already said what he wanted to say. It’s much more bearable to repeat the silly topics than the raw, emotional ones. The repetition hurts, and devalues the latter.

It really is a journey, from Grandma June, to cultivating self-love and True Individuality; only not to the heart of darkness, but to the one of lightness. It’s all him, the philosopher and the comedian, the Frank’s head rider and the march speaker. Read his words. Don’t forget them, like I did. Laugh with him, but also think with him and be sad with him.

“True Individuality seems daunting in our age of social media popularity contests. Sometimes it’s terrifying to face your true, whole self, stripped of any pretense. The good, the bad, the cracks, and the scars. I am no stranger to the feeling of not liking myself. Once I get past my own body image issues, I realize that I sometimes also neglect my own spirit. Living in a world filled with so much hatred sometimes makes cultivating self-love a very difficult task. I have always struggled with this as I’m sure many of you have. My path is a kind of paradox in that I get to share my craft with the world, but also be willing to throw myself to the wolves. To dare to be different, but still wanting to be accepted. There is vast beauty to be found in life’s contradictions. This non-binary reality allows us to lead happy, expressive lives, and yet this very freedom comes with great risks. I’m not alone in this limbo. Through my art, I pledge to bring empathy and courage to anyone who has been made to feel unworthy or ashamed while daring to be themselves.”

***

~The sources for everything mentioned in the essay are Adam Lambert’s social media pages. I’ve decided against posting any links because I feel like this one reference is enough.

~No photos either, since I mention too many of them and this bloody thing is too long already. Just this one.

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anaclaresole · 4 years ago

Photo

I have so many thoughts on this weeks reading.

This photos are supposed to reflect the difference between two generations. The first photo is of my grandfather “Tito” who passed away in 2019. I took this photo of him (in 2018) because at the time I thought it was funny- he has 4 grandchildren and only carried around a photo of one of them (me) in his wallet. He was very old fashioned- had a flip phone, so all of his photos were printed. When we moved stuff out of his house, I remember going through scrapbooks he made of my siblings. I ripped out a few photos that are now on the bulletin board in my room.

The second photo is from the internet- the orange hard drive represents my photos and childhood. With 5 TB of space, all my family photos are on here. It’s obvious that most photos today are stored on devices or servers. Though it seems convenient; there are tradeoffs. Sharing a photo is much easier - you can send with the click of a button rather than mailing a printed photo. If the photos are stored on your phone, you have access to it 24/7 (you don’t have to carry around a photo in your wallet like Tito). However, the scary thing about digital storage is the permanency of it (or lack of). It is very possible that in the future, these photos are less accessible or entirely inaccessible. The reading, “Matter of Memory” asked questions like: “How might this change human’s understanding of the past? How will our relationship to our ancestors change?” Personally, I think our memories after viewing photos will change. As it was said in the reading, “one’s perception of a particular photograph is not constant; therefore, its meaning is never secure.” Every time we go back and look a photo, we probably have different feelings or think of new memories we didn’t think of the first time. I think our feelings will change depending on how the photos are viewed - whether they are viewed on a computer or in a picture frame. For example, when I am looking for something in my house and come across a printed photo of my parents, I will have different feelings than when I am actively looking for photos of my parents on our hard drive. Accessing digital photos is more challenging (it takes more work); and thus we are purposeful when looking through photos versus when we find them in our house.

The beauty of most of the work shared in the reading was with the use of print out photographs. With digital storage, will this art decline? I especially loved Kenneth Josephson’s work- how he took a photo of a photo. Or Jim Lommasson’s photos with notes on them. This seems like something my grandfather would do. With digital photos, you lose the ability to write on photos or share memories that explain them.

On the topic of memories, I want to share this article: “What smartphone photography is doing to our memories.” Not only is how we store photos affecting our memory, but also when we take photos.

https://www.vox.com/science-and-health/2018/3/28/17054848/smartphones-photos-memory-research-psychology-attention

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mhdiaries · 4 years ago

Text

Diary of Neighthan Rot

It’ll trip me up if you read my diary.

6/14

6/17

6/21

7/10

7/12

7/30

#monster high #monster high diary #freaky fusion #neighthan rot #text post

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