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bonesthebeloved · 4 years ago

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It’s a fine (taped) line

Summary: In which Roman isn't doing well after the events of SVS Redux and Remus finds him in their room next to a bunchof balled up tape that had separated them for years and years. Characters: Roman and Remus (Janus mention)

Triggers/ Squicks: crying/ breakdown. Mention of weapons and (mild)violence, intrusive thoughts, sea monster, swimming in natural water, eyes. (if I missed anything/ you’d like me to tag anything let me know.)

Words:2881 (I didn’t spell check this. We die like men.)

He was afraid

It hadn't been quite as long as he'd liked since the last time he'd been afraid like this. Not even a full week.

Afraid like a shiver that ran deep until you were sure you could hear your skeleton rattle. Afraid like laboured quite breathing and wide eyes staring into unseeing darkness and even more unseeing void.

Afraid like standing on the plank with a sword poking in your back and hungry sharks beneath you.

Afraid like he was now, standing in a well lit room accompanied by two other sides and Thomas himself. In the middle of the day with the doors safely locked and his Katana at his side.

He shouldn't be afraid.

Uncertain. Angry, yes. Maybe even hurt. But afraid should not apply to this situation. After all there was no threat.

Yet he felt it. And he knew his voice would be shaking even before he'd opened his mouth to speak. And he knew his hands would be shaking even before he lifted them to cover his mouth. And he knew that and he knew that and he knew-

He didn't know anything anymore.

"You are!" came a shout. Almost sounding desperate enough to be genuine . Almost sounding certain enough to be true.

But Roman was afraid. And he was shaking when he looked over for confirmation to the side that had cracked his trust beyond repair because how else would he know if it really was genuine and certain enough. How else would he-

He'd never have guessed that a single nod would be the thing that would shatter the cracked funhouse mirror. Never would've guessed that the only thing standing between him and the hungry sharks below would be the incline of a head. The confirmation of a lie.

So he sunk out with a last scoff at their hosts expression. Seeing the tiniest of cracks forming would've concerned him to no end if he himself wasn't completely shattered at that moment.

And when he popped into his room he looked at where he was standing. The edge of the plank. Toes nearly touching the line of white tape seperating the two sides of the room. One messy, clothes on piles and crumpled up paper all over the floor. Bed unmade and in need of a change of sheets. Curtains still drawn and houseplants dying.

The other half belonged to Remus.

And there, on the edge of the plank, with noise coming from the bathroom attached to their room and Remus his pet rat squeaking happily while running around the bed, Roman bowed down and, getting a good grip on an edge of it, ripped the tape away from the floor, shattering the imaginary barrier and the line he'd set for himself.

When he had taken of all the tape, all of it a sticky, bawled up mess on the floor now, he dropped to his knees, slowly lowering his head to the floor aswell and leaning it against the carpet, closing his eyes.

And he cried. Not dramatic and loud wailing like would be expected. No, his crying was quiet. Almost deadly so as the tears dropped down his face and onto the carpet. As he gripped his hair to stop himself from hitting the floor. And he pulled his hair to stop himself from pouncing his fist on it.

And when the bathroom door opened he stopped, still pulling and still silent and facing away from whoever had just walked in.

The side stopped in their tracks too. Still by the bathroom. Hand probably still on the door handle, hair probably still wet, eyes probably trying to communicate with their brain about what it is their seeing.

Because Remus had walked in on his brother on the floor which was devoid of tape. The tape of which he’d tried to convince his brother was the spot an invisible lazer beam would kill the first person that walked over it.

Because Remus had walked in on his brother while he was crying.

Because Roman never cried infront of him. Not since they had been kids and they’d learned to hate eachother once drawings of nightterrors and bloody zombies became ‘bad’ instead of just ‘creative’.

Because Remus was hurrying over to his brother now, falling onto his knees with a loud smack and feeling the carpetburn set in already as he shuffled closer, a hand outstretched as both a warning and a question.

When Roman shrugged his shoulder away from the hand close to it Remus nodded silently and let it drop to his side. No touching then. Alright.

“That bad huh?” He grimaced at the words. Too loud in the now deadly quiet room.

Roman simply let a hollow laugh echoe through it and Remus swore they’d never had an echoe before but then again their room changed all the time.

Like how the glow in the dark stars had changed into swirling galaxy above his bed and how Roman tore down his posters every month to rearange them.

Like how the white tape that had been there for years was now suddenly gone.

“Wanna talk about it?”

A short silence that stretched out just long enough for Remus to take another breath to offer to distract his brother instead when suddenly:

“I’m not his hero anymore.”

Remus saw it now, the outlines of the shattered mirror his brother had become.

He didn't like it one bit.

"I'm sure that's just good ol' Double D's messing with your head of course your his he-" "Janus."

Remus was silent then, slowly sinking down to sit infront of his brother, careful not to cross the now nonexistent line theyd set for themselves so long ago.

"Pardon?"

"He's called Janus. He told us so you don't have to act like you don't know his name anymore Rem. He told us. The fucker told us."

"That's... Good right?"

Roman laughed, the sound hollow and joyless, before muttering the most quiet 'yeah right' and letting his head drop again, still sitting in the middle of the room that used to be seen as two. The room that now lacked the devider.

"He called me evil." And there it was. The issue that Roman was struggling with the most, laid out in the open raw and ugly in the dim light of the room.

"Did he now? What'd he say exactly. Because, if I know one thing, it's that Dee only says shit like that as a joke or when something seriously messed up was said to him and I'm assuming the later didn't happen so-"

"I laughed at his name." Roman said numbly, the monotone voice nearly as terrifying as the one full of pain from just seconds ago.

"Well of course you did! It's a stupid name! It sounds like he's a middle school libr-" "Librarian yeah. I said the same thing."

Remus opened his mouth to speak again, to return to his way of comforting his brother which was distraction by blatant mockery.

But then...

"And that's the problem Re. That's the whole damn problem."

"What is?"

"He called me evil Re."

"I mean yeah you've told me already what you hit your head or some-"

"He compared me to you."

Ah.

Right.

That.

'Well fuck you too Ro!' Remus said. Only he didn't say that because what kind of a brother would he be.

Because Roman, after all these years, still didn't get it. Still thought of him as evil and himself as good. Still stuck in the black and white, the good and evil narrative that they were taught since they were able to count to two.

And oh Remus wanted to slap his brother for that. Wanted to give him a good shake and ask him who the hell he thought he was.

But Roman was crying at the thought of being compared to him.

And while that idea made him sick to his stomach, Roman was still crying. And he was still his brother, even if it ment being hated so viscously that the mere thought of being like him caused a breakdown this severe.

Even if his own brother seemed to want him gone.

"Then he's even dumber then his name Ro."

Roman looked up at that, snot and tears mixing under his nose and on his hand as he wiped it away. Looking pathetic as ever but the little spark of hope the sentence had created was present. And that's all he needed.

"Have you seen yourself? Of course you're not evil! You're basically prince charming except gayer! Ha! Can you even imagine an evil Prince Eric? Of course you can't because it's ridiculous!"

A huff of air from Romans nose then. And it wasn't quite a laugh sure. But it was a start. And Remus could work with just a start.

What he couldn't work with though, was no response beside just that puff of air. The silence in the room seeming to press down on him. Threatening to squish him flat like a pancake. Squashing him so hard that his eyeballs popped out and-

Right. Sad brother. Focus Remus focus.

"Hey I've got an idea."

Twenty minutes later and they stood in the imagination, his brothers eyes still red rimmed and he himself repressing the urge to make a comment about how it matched his colour scheme and how he should really put some blood splatters here and there for another pop of colour.

"Why are we here again?" Roman said into the cold misty evening. Slowly feeling his shoes soak up the water, his socks getting a bit wet.

"To scream." Remus said, gesturing towards the giant lake infront of them. The fog hanging low over it giving it both a mythical and horror movie esque feeling. Though with Romans current mood, horror movie was probably more likely.

"... To scream?"

"Yeah! I saw a man do that in a movie once after his daughter got killed by a man with a butchers knife. It looked awesome there was blood all over the kitchen walls and her head was-" "Don't spoil the movie for me Rem."

'Don't spoil it for me' had become Roman’s go to way of nicely telling his brother to shut the fuck up. Remus saw right through it of course. His brother would never watch slasher films after all. They made him have nightmares. But he appreciated the vague form of effort none the less.

"Just scream at the damn lake Ro. I didn't take you out here just so you could complain."

Roman looked at him weirdly, though decided that 'fuck it' seemed to be the mood he was going for today, stepped forward towards the edge of the lake, and screamed at the top of his lungs.

His voice broke several times while he did so. The scream sounding more and more choked up the longer it went on for, so much so that Remus started to wonder if his brother was losing his voice when he finslly fell silent and the quiet came back to press down on them.

Remus came to stand next to his brother, looking at him, at the tears streaming down his face and at how his eyebrows seemed to be trying to recreate the Nike symbol.

At how he was slightly shaking and standing just a smudge too close to the water.

At how his expression changed from pained to surprised to shocked when Remus pushed him into the ice cold lake.

At how this might be how he made his brother atleast a bit happy again. After a while of cursing and splashing around he got used to it, standing till his waist in the water and looking at his brother until finally he too jumped in, water splashing everywhere as he did so.

Roman snapped his fingers, the both of them now in diving suits rather than their normal outfits.

He ignored Remus his complains about how he'd rather swim naked as he came up to him and dunked his head under the water again. A fight breaking lose that had water splashing everywhere and curious woodland creatures come out of the woods to watch the two rulers of their kingdom seemingly get along for once.

Remus noticed how, after a minute or so, the deer suddenly fled. Not thinking much of it as he summoned a huge water gun and blasted it straight into Romans face.

Roman noticed, a moment later, how all the rabbits and squirrels and mice and rats fled aswell. Looking around for a moment but getting distracted when Remus summoned Poseidon trident to make a wave.

The twins both noticed how the birds also fled when the water began to ripple in a way that wasn't caused by them. How the water underneath them suddenly got darker as a huge shadow swam circles in the lake.

The both looked at eachother with wide eyes as they swam to the edge, summoning their respective weapons.

"Remus?"

"Hm?"

"Did you maybe forget to mention something when we came here?"

"I-... Mightve forgotten about me trying to recreate the log Ness monster yes."

"Wait, you made Nessy?!"

As if on queue, the giant seacreature emerged from the surface, scales glittering as the sunlight hit them. Green and blue and purple making for quite a beautiful image weren't it for the razor sharp teeth and monstrous features that came along with it.

"This is one hell of a way to distract me Rem." Roman said, rolling his shoulders as he held out his sword.

"... You're welcome?" Remus said, eyes flicking from the rip off Nessy to his brother and back as the monster growled and came closer.

"Alright then. Let's do this." Roman said, voice low and dangerous, bending his knees slightly as if preparing to dash away.

"Let's kick some ass!" Remus said. Surprised but not put off by this new development in his plans to cheer up his brother. If screaming at a lake would always lead him to a monster fight then he'd have to do this more often!

They set foot in their room four hours later. Both of them completely soaked, Roman wearing a small satisfied smile while Remus just looked grumpy.

They both flopped down on their respective beds, Remus his rat looking up in shock before quickly darting over to go and Greet its owner who just huffed and reluctantly petted the thing.

"That was fun." Roman said into the now quiet air.

"For you maybe! I had to watch how you 'calmed down' Nessy instead of taking part in the bloody fight I'd been hoping for!"

"Nessy did nothing to us she didn't deserve to get hurt."

"She nearly bit my arm off!!"

"Yeah? Well that's your fault for trying to poke her with your mace."

A strangely comfortable silence fell over the room then. And Remus began to slowly realise something. The realisation not quite there yet but almost.

Almost.

"... Thank you Rem. That was... Nice."

Ah. He got it now.

"Yeah well, at least I don't have to watch you cry on the floor anymore hm dipshit?"

"With how things are going, I think you'll see that more often than not. Asshat."

They both laughed, quiet and only partly sarcastic.

And Remus smiled into the quite. Pulling his legs up so his brother wouldn't see it.

"Hey Ro?"

"Hmm? You're not evil okay? He just said that cuz you hurt him a bit."

"Hmm. I should apoligise shouldn't I?"

Remus smiled again at that. Sitting up after he realised that he didn't mind his brother seeing him happy. Enjoyed it even.

"Oh I'm sure he'll show up at the door with a basket of fruit and a heartfelt letter next thing in the morning." Roman sat up too then. A small, unsure smile on his face.

And Remus realised he didn't mind seing his brother happy, either.

Enjoyed it even.

"And if you want. I can punch a little sense into him if he doesn't, and we'll go and look for another lake to scream at, how bout that."

"That'd be nice Rem."

And then Roman did something neither of them had done in a very long time.

He got up from the bed, brushing off his wrinkled clothes and, one step at a time, inched closer to the now non-existent barrier.

"Ro what are you-"

And then Roman was infront of him. On his side. Leaning over him slightly with his arms outstretched the tiniest bit.

"You're not evil either Rem. You never were."

Remus hadn't hugged his brother in over ten years.

But now here Roman was, carefully wrapping his arms around him after getting a nod of approval. Carefully tightening them and laying his head on his brothers shoulder. Squeezing him a little bit as Remus returned the hug hesitantly.

And nothing had been resolved. Nothing had been talked out or solved and things might only get worse before they get better but they were hugging and that was something at least.

And they'd been living in the same room for as long as they'd existed. Always there, always together.

And yet...

"I missed you Roman."

"I missed you too, brother."

This has been in my drafts for month I hope it's alright-ish at least.

Tags: @purp-man @sapphire-knight @ragingdumpsterfiremess @chronophobica @lance-alt @mylifeisadeceit @itriedandimtired

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emzaaaa · 5 years ago

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I broke up with my 6 year relationship.

I need to talk about it.

I met my ex when I was 19 years old. I had just moved to Orlando, FL from a small midwest town. I hadn’t been in a serious relationship before and I honestly wasn’t looking for anything. We met working at Disney World under fireworks. We talked about music and instantly were hooked on eachother. I remember them asking me if I wanted to hang out and in my oblivious mind, I thought it was just that. A hang out.

We went to this vegan kitchen and decided to walk in this cute little park across the street. All of a sudden I felt a hand grab mine. At that time is when I knew something was going to come out of this day. Damn. 6 years later and I’m a completely different person.

The first year and a half was a dream. They constantly told me they loved me, we cuddled all the time, they made me FEEL loved and I constantly wanted to be near them. Nothing else mattered but them.

Two years in is when they threw a bomb into our relationship. Something huge came to light that I wont share on this just because it’s not my story to tell. Before this, it was something that was apart of them but nothing came of it. Now they needed this. I was so excited for this bomb and I couldn’t wait to support and be there for them throughout the entire new chapter.

Three years in is when we finally got our very own apartment together. The first two years we actually lived with their mother. You’d think that would be weird but I honestly loved it. She became my mom too. That’s honestly one of the hardest parts of this breakup. I have to separate her from my life and journey and that’s heart wrenching. This was a very exciting year for us. We experienced so many new things together with this apartment and learned and grew so much from it. Everything was so exciting. We were truly building a foundation. I remember one morning I woke up and they came into the room, taking a break from video games, and said “Let’s get married” Now, I know they werent being serious but I will always remember this morning. It gave me a glimpse of hope. This apartment was a tiny 500 square foot apartment but it was huge for our relationship.

Four years in is when we decided to move out of Orlando.We both felt our journey was ending in that city and needed to start a new chapter. We set our eyes on Portland, Oregon. We had something to get excited about. We took a very spontaneous trip to Portland for a weekend and instantly fell in love with the area. We loved everything about it and just how liberal and chill everything was in that state... literally the definition of our relationship so far. A few months before we needed to tell our landlord that we werent resigning I felt our relationship start to crack. We started fighting more and more. We were getting annoyed with each other for silly things. We’d have fights but by the next day we were completely fine and comfortable again. I remember asking myself if I really wanted to sign another lease with this person. Ultimately, I felt my ex and I were endgame and were forever. So I pushed away all doubts and continued on with our plans. By this time moving to Portland wasn’t feasible but we still wanted to get out of Florida. Out of options, we decided to move to my hometown of Des Moines, Iowa. I hadn’t lived there for almost 5 years and my ex had never been there. So it was a new experience for both of us.

Five years in we were moving to Iowa. From the outside perspective we were very excited. We were doing something new and unfamiliar to us. This was a turning point in our relationship. There was a reason I moved OUT of Iowa. I hated the Midwest. I was so miserable before... why would I move back. By the second month of living back in Iowa, all I saw was darkness. I didn’t want to be in that state anymore. I told my ex I wanted to move back to Florida but they didn’t want to regress like that. Their time in Orlando was over. Which I get.. it’s the same thing I was experiencing with Iowa. At this time my ex was also getting very depressed with their own shit going on. I felt like we were pulling apart from each other. Usually my ex loved to play video games but it felt like it consumed them. They use to tell me what they were doing online or something funny that happened.. all of a sudden that stopped. It almost felt like we were roommates. I’d go to bed alone and wake up alone. It felt so strange because on the other side of the wall there was my ex living in a completely different world. And I wasn’t invited. Our fighting became more and more.

Have you ever heard of jumping the shark? Where a tv show will do something crazy when they feel like the end is near... hoping to get more views and prolong the inevitable. Well... getting a dog was our jumping the shark. I had wanted a dog since two years into our relationship. It was never gonna happen in Florida.. just because the cost of living mixed with dog expenses would be insane. Living in Iowa, cost of living is nothing compared to Orlando. We finally had extra money in our pockets. Christmas came around and they got me my dream dog.. a corgi named Billie. She became my new love and she was all I wanted. I honestly don’t know why they got me a dog. Because thats all that happened. They never shared in anything else. I went to to all the vet visits, I bought her puppy training classes and taught her a few tricks, I bought her everything she has. To this day the only thing they have done is buy her and buy half the spay. They never tried to be involved at all. I wont lie though.. I’m so thankful for my ex because they brought Billie into my life. Billie saved my life. I had something to throw all my love and support to.

Five and a half years in we moved again.. staying in Iowa. I wanted to move out of state but it just wasn’t in our cards. I went back to college, thinking maybe if I did something with my life I’d be happy again. That didn’t work. I hated everything and I brought that into my relationship, I’ll admit. This past November/December we were fighting every week to the point of us calling it quits each week. At this point we never cuddled, everytime I tried to kiss them they would put their cheek out for me to kiss, I didn’t even remember the last time they freely told me they loved me. They didn’t seem interested in anything I was doing or wanted to do and didn’t support me with anything either. We had no communication.

At this point of the relationship I felt like nothing. I felt so unwanted. My self esteem was zero. I did everything for this person.. why didn’t they do something.. anything in return.

One story. Valentines Day this past year. I was so excited for it. I thought I could finally put some romance back in this relationship and help fix it. I planned this day for weeks. I bought them a dozen red roses and left a cute note telling them how beautiful they were and how much I truly did love them. I had to go to work that day but I begged my leaders to be let out early. It was approved and I eagerly bought ingredients for a new recipe that I knew theyd love. I came home and nothing was said about the flowers. Totally fine. I was cool about it. They went to go get their car fixed which took hours. Thinking it was Valentines Day and we needed to be together.. I went with. After we got back I made dinner and we ate and drank a bottle of wine. We decided to watch a movie and they got angry with me because I interrupted the movie. I remember how my heart plummeted and I slowly got up.. grabbed the gift I was going to give them and hid that it in the closet. I went to bed early. They never once told me they loved me or did anything special. Never even thanked me for dinner or helped with the dishes.

Exactly one month ago. I went MIA and ran to my parents house because I finally was realizing there was no relationship left. I should have ended things a long time ago but I never did. I didn’t want to be alone. I’m terrified of being alone. But one day at work everyone was talking about their partners and I just had a realization.. “I don’t feel the way everyone else does about their partners” That mixed with how my partner was treating me.. I ran to my parents for a night to get my head straight. I refused to text them.. I just needed to figure things out.

The next day I came home and we sat down and talked. I told them how I didn’t see us being together and that I felt like I was holding them back. They were about to completely alter their life and I knew how they had been confused on things within the relationship. It wasn’t fair to me. Their issues with themself wasn’t an excuse for them to be absent. I need someone to be completely sure about me. I’m a fucking catch. Together we realized the relationship was over.

The next morning I didn’t believe it. We fought all the time and “broke up” quite a few times.. all ending the same.. us being completely fine the next day. The week after that we had serious talks for hours every night just hashing things out and just trying to understand what went wrong. My ex has huge communication problems. This week after the breakup is when they finally opened up their soul to me and told me everything that was confusing them.

I realized I don’t fit in with their life. I was the reason they stopped something that they needed in the beginning of the relationship and I will always hold onto that.. if they had kept with it.. what would have been of this relationship now? Cryptic, right? This whole thing is probably.. but I need this.

In the month of being broken up and being single.. I’ve learned so many things about myself. I realized it was the fear of being alone that kept me from truly ending things. I should have ended things a long time ago... honestly in Orlando. I saw so many red flags that I kept pushing away. I have so much love for my ex. I support them and I can’t wait to see what comes of their life in these next few years.

This past month of being broken up has brought things out that I am not proud of either. I tried for almost six years to get my ex to open their soul and truly connect with me.. this girl comes into their life a few months ago and instant connection. To say Im jealous and to say that that ruined this whole breakup for me... yeah that would be true. I wanted to be loving and in their life still.. but now there is no room for that because this girl took my spot. Because of this I had done things I wasn’t proud of out of pure jealousy. After a week of denial and crying all day in bed I finally felt a new emotion: rage. I felt angry. Angry that my ex didn’t want to try and actually get down to the core and fix things.. they just wanted to throw it in the trash. I threw all gifts they got me away.. I said hurtful things.. I tried throwing away things I got them.. I was just so angry. I needed to feel something other than denial and sadness. The next day I felt so content and like maybe it would be okay. Don’t get me wrong I am completely humiliated on how I acted and what I did.. but it was so needed for me to be at this point in the breakup. If I didn’t have that night I would still be in bed crying begging them to fix things. I think I was in denial because it was my idea to break up the first night and then realized I was going to be alone the next day and regretted saying I didn’t think we should be together. But I’m so glad I did. I built up the courage to say out loud what I was thinking for months.. even years. Sure, things ending hurt my soul and I’m broken because of it... but things needed to end. I need to find someone who loves me the way I want to be loved and deserved to be loved.

Whats happening now? I’m moving on to new things. I’m moving back to Orlando for myself. I’m excited to live in a city I loved and not have a relationship consume me. I’m excited to say YES to everything and not no because I want to go back home and be with my love. I’m relearning who I am. I completely lost myself to someone who didn’t feel the same. I have to fix my self esteem and outlook on life. I have to learn to love myself again. And I’m so excited to do so. I’m a fucking bad bitch and I’m so excited to see what I do next.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk.

#break up #long term relationship #love

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writingfortoomanyfandoms · 6 years ago

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Five Ways of Saying I Love You

Pairing: Ben Hardy!Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: Five ways that Roger shows her he loves her

Requested: No

Warnings: Swearing

A/N: Sorry it’s been a few days since I’ve posted anything - please let me know what you think of it! I love hearing what all of you have to say about my writing! And remember that I reply with my main blog @ijustreallylovezebras, I hope you all had wonderful days xx

Roger wasn’t good with telling Y/N he loved her. She knew he did, and she knew that she loved him too - he was well aware of it as well, she was constantly reminding him. Roger just wasn’t good at saying it.

He could show it though, he was really good at showing it.

“I’m going to really miss you,” Y/N sighed, resting her head on his bare chest, tracing careful shapes onto his pale skin. Roger twined his fingers through her hair, gently tugging the knots out of it.

“I’m going to miss you too, Princess,” he murmured, lacing his free hand with her small one - the one that wasn’t resting on his chest. Y/N gave their hands a squeeze before placing a gentle kiss to his hand. “You could still come with me, the boys wouldn’t mind - they’d love it to be honest,” Roger said and Y/N moved her head to give him a sad smile.

“I can’t do that, Rog,”

“I know, it’s a nice thought though,” Roger sighed, squeezing her hand again.

“What time are you leaving, again?” She asked, cuddling closer into his chest.

“Six in the morning,” Roger groaned. “I’ll leave you asleep, Princess,”

“Don’t! I want to say goodbye to you,” Y/N whined, kissing his bare skin and Roger shivered at the action, a soft smile forming on his face again.

“Six is really early, Darling,” he pointed out but Y/N shook her head.

“It’s worth it for you,” she declared and Roger chuckled.

“You’re so cute,”

“I love you,” Roger hugged her a little tighter and he felt her smile against his chest.

The next morning, Roger woke at five, carefully sliding out from under his girlfriend, who was asleep on his chest. He brushed some hair from her face, smiling down at her, feeling himself falling further in love with her. He changed quickly, running a brush through his hair.

“Princess?” Roger whispered, gently shaking her shoulder. Y/N let out a quiet moan as she blinked her eyes open. A wide smile took over her face upon seeing Roger and she reached up to rub her eyes but Roger caught her hands in his. “Don’t wake up properly, Y/N/N, I’m leaving now okay? Go back to sleep and I’ll see you in six weeks,” he said, keeping his voice low and quiet before leaning to press a kiss against her forehead. Then he straightened up, turning to leave the room.

“Wait - Rog!” Y/N called, swinging her legs out of bed and running to him, jumping up to hug him from behind.

“Princess,” Roger laughed, turning around and hugging her back tightly. “I’ll miss you,” he said and Y/N looked up, eyes cloudy, and pressed her lips firmly against his.

“I’ll miss you too,” she whispered. Roger gave her a gentle smile, kissing her once more.

“Get some rest, Princess,”

“Rock the world, Rog,”

“Just for you, Y/N/N,” he murmured and then picked her up, placing her back under the covers and kissing her forehead. “Have a good day at work,”

“I love you,” she called quietly as he left the room. Roger turned only to blow her another kiss, the words drying up in his mouth.

When Y/N woke later that morning, a sadness weighed on her chest upon remembering the absence of Roger’s presence. She sighed and pushed herself out of bed, wrapping herself up in one of his jumpers that he had left behind. She trudged into the kitchen, and stopped, her brows furrowing at the appearance of a box on the table with her name scrawled across the top in Roger’s messy handwriting.

She opened it and her eyes welled up with tears at the image of dozens of envelopes each addressed to her.

Even though he didn’t say it very much, Y/N could tell that Roger loved her.

Since going on tour two weeks ago, Roger had called Y/N up every night without fail to talk to her and ask about her day, make sure she was okay and happy and not missing him too much. The last question always made her laugh, because of course she was missing him an extraordinarily large amount. But tonight Roger had warned her that he probably wouldn’t be able to call, as the boys were all going to a party that started straight after the concert, the time that Roger usually reserved for talking to the love of his life.

Which was why Y/N was confused as to why the phone was ringing.

“Rog? Aren’t you at a party?” Y/N asked as she furrowed her brows and tugged her hand through her messy hair.

“Yeah - I just missed you too much,” she could tell from the slight slur of his voice that he was drunk.

“I miss you too, Rog,”

“I felt bad for not calling you tonight,” he explained, sounding disappointed in himself. Y/N gave a quiet laugh, shaking her head.

“You have a busy life, Darling, you don’t need to worry about it,” she assured him and Roger whined a little.

“You’re too good for me,” he declared. Y/N laughed, shaking her head despite knowing that Roger wouldn’t be able to see her.

“That’s the opposite of true,”

“You’re perfect,”

“You’re so cute,” she told him. “But you should definitely go enjoy your party,”

“I have more fun talking to you than I have at any party,” Roger informed her seriously and Y/N giggled at his words.

“If you don’t go to the party then you know Freddie will give both of us a hard time about it,” Y/N pointed out. Roger groaned.

“I just miss you so so so so so much,”

“I miss you lots too,” Y/N’s voice was quiet and Roger easily picked up on her sad tone.

“Don’t be sad!” He demanded. “I’ll be back before you know it,”

“I love you,” Roger smiled, as he always did when Y/N told him that.

“I don’t want to hang up,” Roger pouted and Y/N chuckled. Roger could almost see her shaking her head at him.

“Go and have fun, Rog, I don’t want to hold you back,”

“You never hold me back! I like talking to you!” He protested. Y/N covered her mouth to contain her joyful giggle.

“You’re very drunk, Rog,”

“Calling you was all I could think about,” he admitted quietly in response. Silence settled over the phone as his words sunk in. Y/N bit her lip to stop her smile from stretching too wide. “You’re all I think about,”

Y/N grinned as her took the box from the postman, nodding her thanks to him.

“Have a nice day,” she called after him as he set off back down her driveway. He paused to wave back at her but Y/N had already turned around, eager to open the package.

She had somewhat anticipated it’s arrival - Roger had been dropping hints for the past week, ever since he called her drunk only two weeks into the tour to tell her how much he missed her.

So she had expected something. A letter or a postcard. While Roger had provided her with a shoebox full of letters at the beginning of his tour, he always sent her either a post card or a letter when the boys neared their halfway point. He always admitted to her that he found his written word easier to express his feelings with.

Y/N rumaged through her kitchen draws and picked out a knife, slicing open the box with ease and folding the flaps over, being greeted immediately by the expected postcard.

She turned it over in excitement.

Hey Princess,

For some reason this tour I’m missing you now more than ever - from our conversations it seems as though you’re feeling the same. So I’ve been buying shit along the way that I thought would either cheer you up or make you think of me or laugh or something. Don’t want my girl missing me too much.

Always yours,

Rog

As always, he had signed off the note with a smily face and three kisses. Y/N beamed at the message, feeling her eyes brim with tears at the thoughtfulness of her boyfriend.

Inside the box lay a teddybear with a cheesy ‘I love you!” shirt on, a pair of drumsticks, one of which had been broken (this was accompanied by another note explaining how Roger had broken them in a show when he was missing her particularly much, a story that, while cute, Y/N didn’t believe for a second as she knew it was the pair that John had told her Roger through at Brian’s head during an argument), there was three of his button up shirts, a box of chocolates and two books that Y/N had been wanting to read for a while but had never gotten around to purchasing.

She stepped away from the box, holding the bear in her hands and hugged it tightly to her chest, letting out soft sobs as she felt the full weight of Roger’s love for her.

Since Roger had returned from tour a week and a half ago, everything had been perfect. Almost perfect. Y/N had been feeling as though she had hardly seen her boyfriend, he was always practicing with the band and, while she understood that the band was important, one of the most important things in Roger’s life, she had missed him.

After expressing these feelings to Roger the previous evening, he had invited his girlfriend to join the band at practice the following day, once Y/N had finished her shift at work. He had been feeling much the same as she had, if he was being honest. While he understood Freddie’s keenness to write the next album so they could start recording ASAP, he wanted nothing more than to spend a little while with Y/N in the comfort of their home.

She was his priority.

“Y/N!” John was the first to notice her presence as she awkwardly moved into the room. John and Y/N had always been close - the two more soft-spoken members of their band-family had gravitated towards each other in a way that Roger had only hoped they would.

Roger raised his eyebrows as the bassist was quick to cross the room and embrace his girlfriend in a hug.

“Rog said you were coming today!” John beamed. Said drummer stood from behind his kit and joined the two. Freddie gave a dramatic sigh before giving in and joining the group, seeing Brian placing down his guitar as well.

Roger was quick to place his arm around her waist and kiss her cheek. an action that she grinned at, leaning further into his loving touch.

“She’s my priority,” Roger pointed out to John.

“What about the band?” Freddie asked with a raised eyebrow, quickly hugging Y/N in greeting.

“The band’s my other priority, obviously. I play better with her here anyway,” Roger declared, winking at his girlfriend, who shoved his shoulder playfully, the action making him laugh.

“I’m already in love with you, Rog, you don’t need to flirt to bad anymore,” Y/N teased and Roger chuckled, kissing her lips.

“Has he even told you he loves you back?” John asked Y/N later, when Roger and Brian had both returned to their instruments, trying to fit the song together. Freddie was sat in the corner, listening to them with his eyes closed, calculating their next move in the song, as he often did.

“Yeah he has,” Y/N assures her friend quickly.

“He didn’t say it earlier, that’s all,” Y/N smiled at John, shaking her head a little.

“Rog doesn’t like saying it so much - but I know it anyway, he makes sure of it,”

“How’d you mean?”

“It’s the little things, Deaky, like inviting me here today, just so we could spend more time together, or like yesterday when he came home even just an hour earlier to help me cook because he knew I’d been feeling down,”

“That’s sweet,” Y/N’s eyes wandered over to Roger, as they always did. Her blond haired drummer caught her eye and offered her a playful wink, causing the smile to widen on her face.

“I’m just lucky I guess,”

Roger grinned when he entered his house to be greeted by the smell of a home cooked meal.

“Princess?” He called, slipping his shoes off of his feet. “I’m home!”

“I’m in the kitchen,” Roger followed the sound of her voice, smiling even wider as he saw her, wrapping his arms around her from behind and bringing her into a tight hug, feeling her relaxing back into his arms.

“It smells good,” he commented, spinning her around and kissing her. Y/N wound her arms around his neck, smiling up at him before leaning up on her tiptoes again to press another kiss to his lips.

“Thanks, how are the boys? Practice?” Her voice was quiet, content and the soft tones of it helped to relax Roger.

“Stressful - Freddie’s being a dick, he was late again, and then shit all over our ideas,”

“You didn’t fight him did you?”

“No,” Roger paused, mulling over his thoughts. “I don’t think it’s his fault anyway,”

“Paul?” Y/N asked and Roger nodded, leaning down to kiss her again.

“He’s changing Freddie,” the drummer sighed and Y/N gave a sad nod.

“Bring him back, Rog, I know you can,”

“I’m so glad I have you in my life,” Roger commented as he watched Y/N draw away from him, plating up dinner. She looked at him over her shoulder, smiling wide.

“You’re such a dork, how could anyone mistake you for a rock king,” she teased. Roger let out a laugh, shaking his head.

“I am a rock legend,” Roger was quick to disagree.

“Who likes to have his hair plaited,” Y/N was laughing as she placed the plates on the table. Roger squeezed her sides as he walked past her and she squealed away from him, glaring at her boyfriend who just gave her a cheeky grin in reply.

“I’m only a sap for you,”

“That’s... reassuring?” She questioned, cocking an eyebrow. Roger beamed and nodded.

“I love you,” he says suddenly. Y/N’s head snapped up. “I know I don’t say it much but I do,”

“I know you do, Rog,” she said, reaching over the table and grabbing his hand. “And I love you too, you don’t need to say it if you don’t want to,”

“It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s just that sometimes the words don’t seem enough and... you can fake words,” he said. Y/N squeezed his hand tightly, never wanting to let him go.

“I know, Rog. But it’s okay, I understand,”

“You’re my favourite person on Earth,”

“You’re mine as well,”

#queen #roger taylor #roger taylor fic #roger taylor fanfic #roger taylor fanfiction #roger taylor imagine #roger taylor imagines #roger taylor x reader #ben hardy!roger taylor #ben hardy! roger taylor

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01010010-posts · 6 years ago

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— am I your future?

request: Okay but pls imagine the rk's meeting an ex-boyfriend of readers... Like theyre home alone for the day and a stranger comes up to the door and theyre like "whomst the fuck" and then he reveals he's readers ex and he wants to talk with them. Imagine these jealous nervous bois freaking the fuck out because AHHH READER USED TO BE IN LOVE WITH THIS OTHER GUY AND HOW HE'S H E R E... And like what if theyd heard of this ex and knew he was bad news (im sorry im a hoe for protective/jealous rks...)

is this ok?? you wanted jealous type & bad ex baby?? did i do this right??

Connor:

• “come on, ordering dessert too?” he giggles, drawing soothing circles on your back, his pupils dawdling with a dreamy gaze on your features, raptured in your love, basking in that soft tug of your mouth • you laugh, rolling your eyes “yes, dessert too” and then you mutter “since someone’s always eager to burn some calories with me” • he bites his lips, blushing a bit blue on the tip of his nose “that’s not fair at all, it’s your fault for being so cute” • “ahh now it’s my fault” you continue, his palms exploring your skin, lowering until they get in contact with your bottom • “yes, [name], it’s your fault” he murmurs near your lobe, teasing you to no end • well, no, there is an end • an end with a very distinct name and surname • “get a room, you two!” the shout of your ex between the chatter of your friends • ugh • your boyfriend goes rigid, a nervous titter, slightly embarrassed, touch lingering but devoid of the same warmth as before • perfect! just perfect! you think, you were busy having a moment but nooo of course they’re gonna ruin it • it was awkward enough when you got invited to this dinner without being told your ex was there too • but you didn’t imagine it would be this bad • don’t worry, as things can and will get worse • in fact, watch!, your last partner is slowly snaking their way to both of you, a sly grin on the face and two bottles of beer • they sit next to your precious robot, offering him to drink together, he politely refuses • “can’t taste? a shame!” that stupid no-good begins a wishy-washy speech, obviously tipsy, trying to get a reaction, probably wanting a fight • they do strike a nerve with you tho and you start tapping your nails on the marble table • he notices, analyzing you from the corner of his lashes, his chords humming off and on, not paying attention • he tries, i swear, he tries resisting and being his usual collected self • but seeing you like this? fed up? distressed? casually checking your phone while he’s stuck listening such endless ramblings • “um, sorry” he excuses himself, suddenly whisking you away from the room, hiding with you in the restroom • “what– what are you doing?” breath hitching you find yourself against the wall, trapped by his body pressed onto yours • “if your ex keeps talking I’m surely going to have a short circuit” • you snort, not expecting him to be so brash but welcoming his behaviour with a gentle cupping of his jaw • “besides” he kisses you “I was” another kiss “getting” kiss “kinda” again, a kiss “jealous”

RK900:

• he’s been waiting for the whole week, finally, a day where you two can be alone, rest, cuddle, simply indulge in each other • he’s super happy about it, he can’t stop kissing you while you’re both playing some boring board game • i mean, it’s not boring since you know, he’s a super clever AI, he can switch on your competitive side in every match • the bell?? he looks in your eyes and you in his • “are we expecting someone?” he questions and you nod in disagreement • “I’ll go get the door” he plants a tiny peck on your forehead and leaves the couch • but as soon as you hear the voice of the person behind the (now open) door your blood freezes • “baby? it’s for you” his tone is neutral but he doesn’t move, effectively blocking the entrance • you reluctantly join him on the threshold and stare at your ex • “what do you want?” you lean onto your lover, a deadly mix of fear, bad memories and utter annoyance clouds your mind • but he’s not stupid, he picks it up the moment you speak, already angry at the fact that his afternoon was ruined by some random scum • actually, not random, that’s what makes him livid • it’s your fucking ex, you had feelings, you had sex, you had a relationship • all things that you have with him now • to say he’s jealous would be terribly kind • he’s almost denting the door jamb his hand is resting on • yep speaking of that, the other free one swiftly grabs you by your hip in a lovely grip, tender, sweet, how he is • the complete contrary of your ex btw • the only time he asked you about them you got tense for the whole night • and he felt so guilty about not being more careful and so mad with your last partner • “you’ve got yourself an android? wow, sunken so low?” • you close your lids for a second and sigh in exasperation, really? very predictable • “yeah, you’re right, he treats me nice and loves me, the bar’s sunken pretty low” • this dork can’t help but let a low and quick chuckle escapes his lips • the same that go onto yours, kissing you deeply, passionately, nearly leaving you gasping • he tilts your head, caressing your cheek, then turns to the person standing on the doorway again • “i’m sorry, as my partner said before, do you truly have business here?” • your thoughts still hazy, your ex about to speak but— • he closes the door in front of their face with a loud bang

RK800-60:

• it’s a chilly summer evening, fresh breeze, a limpid sky, honestly the only thing to do is go out and enjoy detroit’s nightlife • plus, it’s your boyfriend we’re talking about, he’s the embodiment of having fun 24/24 h • you find a nice club, music not too loud but there nevertheless, if he wants he can go dancing while you’re sipping your drink • which is a thing that might or might not happen • he doesn’t want to leave you alone but gosh the beat is totally calling him • “hello, is this seat free?” • a familiar tone drills through your ears, you whip towards the sound • your ex • god, your ex • you briefly mentioned something about them to your darling but • “yes, it is” he smiles and replies, unaware of the situation • “oh but it’s you, [name]! how long has it been? six months?” • “more than that” • “seriously? time flies then!” • “you know this person, sweetie?” he half-whispers, his expression that of a lovesick puppy, already oddly getting the hint of something being wrong, probably because of your accelerated pulse he can feel with his fingers on your wrist • “y–yeah, it’s my ex—” • “so clumsy of you, [name], you should introduce me properly” • he’s dumb when he wants but not this time, his LED blaring red, fidgeting and moving closer to you, an arm around your shoulder, protecting you • “don’t worry, I can do that myself. nice to meet you, I’m [name]’s boyfriend.” • there was absolutely no need to but he did it anyway • he’s so nervous please excuse him • not only he’s jealous because he’s a champ in inferiority complex • but he’s also fuming? it’s pretty obvious how mean is this asshole you don’t have to tell him • “you’ve found someone else? thought our relationship left you quite heartbroken, but then again, you’ve always been the promiscuous type, haven’t you?” a snicker and there’s nothing after that • your android doesn’t hesitate and strikes a punch, perhaps putting too much force and fracturing their nose • he’s not even completely conscious about his action, he just felt the urge and did it, his LED slowly returning to yellow and then blue • “what the fuck—” your ex doesn’t get to finish the phrase, him grabbing the collar of their shirt, his fist feigning another hit and they put their hands to cover the face, scared, trembling • “don’t you dare approach [name] ever again, clear?” he grits through his teeth but there’s no response “I said, are we clear?” • after a feeble choked ‘yes’ he loosens the grasp, letting your old partner falling to the ground • he takes you home immediately, too pissed off to talk about what he did • he’s a bit scared you’ll scold him but there was no choice, believe him, he felt he had to • he spend the rest of the night cuddling and reassuring you

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samayla · 6 years ago

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Lemon Meringue

Here it is, folks: the opening chapter of the Lemon Meringue AU!

Thorin's hobbit is depressed. It's been a very rainy fall, but Thorin has been assured that a homemade lemon pie will help him bring Bilbo all the sunshine he needs.

AO3

This is for @shygaladriel and @angelsallfire, who provided the prompts that spawned this beast last week. I have had so much fun working on this! I’m still going strong, and I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I do!

Chapter 1

Thorin’s hobbit was depressed.

He pondered the issue while he looped wire to make a whisk for Azalea Proudfoot. The rain beating on the awning of his little blacksmith shop faded to a dull background thrum while he worked. Around and around the wire went, and so too did his thoughts, always coming back to the same, worrisome fact. His hobbit was depressed.

One loop. He wasn’t writing anymore.

Another loop. He seemed to have lost his sweet tooth entirely.

Another loop. His green thumb was likewise missing.

Another loop. It had been weeks since they’d had company at Bag End.

“I’d recognize the set of that brow anywhere.”

Startled, Thorin looked up to see Everard Bolger at his counter, shaking rain off his oilskin cloak.

“Marital troubles, I’d wager. What’d you do?”

“Nothing,” Thorin growled at once. No one could say he hadn’t been trying.

Bolger chuckled. “Son, take it from me. I’ve been married near sixty years now, and it’s almost never ‘nothing.’” The elderly hobbit flopped his soggy cloak over the edge of the counter and shuffled around the end.

“You’ll get burrs in your toe hair,” Thorin warned. Once Bolger got settled in, there would be no hope of avoiding one of his infamous lectures.

“Never you mind my toe hair, lad,” Bolger snapped, rapping his walking stick against Thorin’s work table and then perching himself on the edge of a barrel of wire clippings. “Now, tell me what’s happened.”

Thorin hooked a fresh length of wire through the tops of his loops and twisted it to make the base of a handle and buy himself time to think. At last, he asked, “Do you remember last spring?”

Bolger’s impatient scowl melted away at once. “He’s not ill again, is he?”

“No,” Thorin hastened to assure him. He took up another length of wire to wind around the handle. “On our journey, there was an… incident. We were taken prisoner. Bilbo singlehandedly saved our entire company, but he nearly died in the aftermath.” Thorin cleared his throat. He’d nearly died again last spring. It made him panicky just to think of it. “Pneumonia,” he managed after a moment.

“And now he’s susceptible,” Bolger supplied.

“Exactly.”

“And you’re worried about this run of weather we’ve had lately.”

Around and around Thorin wrapped the wire, coiling it into a neat, sturdy handle for the whisk. He didn’t answer the hobbit. It hadn’t been a question.

Bolger nodded to himself after a minute, and his tone turned sharp once more. “And you’ve told him he has to stay indoors for his health, have you?”

“Of course not,” Thorin snapped. “I would never — I wouldn’t —” He stopped himself and took a deep breath. He felt like he was losing Bilbo all over again. He had to remind himself that he wasn’t, and that Bolger could possibly help. “I only… I told him how worried I was, and he said he’d stay in. He seemed fine for the first few days, but then I caught him digging through our things from our journey one afternoon. I thought maybe he meant to work on his book, but he hasn’t touched it, and I feel like he’s barely spoken to me since. He isn’t interested in cooking, or taking care of the flowers I bring him, or having company over to Bag End… I just…”

Thorin fell silent. He could feel the elderly hobbit’s eyes on him as he finished winding the handle of the whisk.

“Well,” Bolger said after a minute or two, “you may have married a Baggins in name, but that lad is half a Took, and that lot has never been very good at sitting still.”

Thorin nodded without looking up. He’d heard plenty such whispers about adventurous Tooks and what a waste of a Baggins it was and how only the son of the notorious Belladonna Took could have married a dwarf, of all creatures.

“You know what to do then, don’t you?”

“If I knew, I’d be doing it,” Thorin growled, chucking the finished whisk into a crate with the rest of Azalea’s order. He slumped at the table with his head in his hands.

“None of that now,” Bolger scolded, rapping Thorin soundly across the shoulders with his walking stick. Thorin surged to his feet in indignation, but Bolger plowed on with the self-assurance only extreme age could bestow. “You don’t know what to do, lad, then you ask one of us who does.”

Bolger just stared at him expectantly until Thorin sighed and sat. “What do you suggest I do, Master Bolger?” he asked in his most placating tone.

The hobbit nodded approvingly and replaced his walking stick against the table. “You say Bilbo’s depressed? Well, what would make that better, in your estimation?”

“The return of the sun,” Thorin answered at once. “He needs fresh air, adventure, and a bit of sunshine to banish this foul cloud he’s under.”

“There you have it,” Bolger declared, nodding again. “He needs fresh air, you give it to him. Adventure? Sunshine? You bring them to him if he can’t go out and get them for himself. Or leastways, do what you can. It’s the effort that matters in a marriage, more than the outcome, if you catch my meaning.”

“And just how do you propose I bring him the sun?” Thorin demanded, exasperated with the hobbit’s non-advice. It’s broken? Unbreak it, of course. Nothing was that simple.

Bolger bristled at his tone. “Well, lad, for starters, you might try being at home. Your husband’s hurting because he’s stuck there? What in the name of the Green Lady are you doing out here yourself? You head down to the market this very instant, and then you come up with an adventure for that Tookish husband of yours, and then you head straight home to deliver it.”

“But what —”

Bolger brandished his walking stick at him. “A meal’s always a safe place to start, but the rest is for you to figure out, isn’t it? You married him, lad, not me. Now, get going.”

#bagginshield #thorin #bilbo #lemon meringue au #the hobbit #kate writes #my writing #fanfic

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wolfyred-ks · 6 years ago

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Adrinette April 2019 Day 23

@adrinetteapril thank you for all you’ve done for the event. I know this one is probably to late for the re-blog. If it’s not a problem over the next few days I would like to tag you in my remaining posts just so you can see what I’ve done.

This was my fist ever ‘writing prompt’ event. And I actually only just created my tumbler so I could take part in Adrinette April 2019. I’m going to also do Marichat May and the other two sides. May take me a little to start though.

THANK YOU FOR MANAGING ADRINETTE APRIL 2019 WITH FLARE AND GUSTO!!!!

Day 23 - Fashion Show

(PLEASE NOTE - THE EXPLOSION IS FICTIOUS. I MADE IT UP FOR THE SAKE OF THE STORY. I DO NOT WISH FOR ANYTHING LIKE THIS TO EVER HAPPEN TO ANYONE.)

It’s just the class. It’s just our families. It’s raising funds for a worthy cause. It’s a chance to show my work before I get big.

Marinette tried to calm herself down with these reassurances. She had been floored when Jagged Stone had approached her for another commission. He had loved his shades so much and they were such a big hit on the tour he had done that he wanted an actual outfit designed.

Tikki had been offering comfort to Marinette the 2 weeks it had been going on. She had been such a source of encouragement Marinette would never have gotten through it with her sanity intact. Well, Tikki and all the others that helped her with this.

As she paced in front of Adrien getting into make up she wondered, ‘How did one outfit end up being a fashion show?’

--------

Originally she had been meeting with Jagged and Penny for a new outfit to tour in. After talking with Jagged she had 5 designs that she wanted to show him. He had liked 4 of them but couldn’t decide which one to use and was suggesting she make them all up. He’d pay for them of course, and if they were all really good he’d use them in his shows.

Penny had joked about Jagged being a personal fashion show for Marinette.

It was at that moment the TV in the hotel suite broke the news that there had been an explosion on the D20 outskirts of Saint-Vulbas. Some terrorists had been on the way to the Bugey Nuclear Power Plant with a bomb in a large van. There was evidence they were going to drive as close to the reactors as they could. However police had stopped the truck before they could get anywhere near the plant. The suspects decided to set of the bomb anyways and the explosion destroyed a portion of the city, leaving a 1km crater that took out a good portion of the town.

Already emergency crews were on the scene and the French Government had offered relief and aid to the small town. A list of places people could donate food, clothing and blankets was being created and the news anchor was urging everyone to help any way they could.

“I want to help them.” Marinette said as the news cast went on. “I want to send them something. I could get some material make blankets and maybe even simple shirts in lots of sizes and slip on pants.” She started pacing and planning, “My parents could make some breads and croissants and we could ship them. And I could organize a food drive at the school with...”

Penny cut Marinette off. “That’s a lot to do for you. It’s great to help out but you don’t want to overdo it yourself and get too exhausted to manage it.” She placed a hand on Marinette’s shoulder. “Also buying all that material to make clothes will be expensive. It might be better to do a clothing and food drive. You don’t need to make it a big show.”

“Yes she does Penny.” Jagged had stood up as well.

“What?” Both ladies said.

“A big show! We can help her put on a big show and gather up supplies, clothes, food and donations towards re-building. Did you say with me using 4 of her outfits on tour I’d be her own fashion show?”

“I meant it as a joke Jagged.” Penny said.

“But we could make it real! We can help her set it. She designs a few more outfits and we get some of her school chums to show them off. Charge at the door! Have a set up for dropping off clothes and food at the show.” Jagged pulled Marinette to his side. “It will be big! I know you can do it.” He grabbed Penny and said theyd be in touch. He was going to talk to the mayor about renting the ballroom.

Tikki floated up from Marinette’s purse. “What just happened?”

“I’m not sure Tikki,” Marinette looked at the little red kwami. “I think I was just signed up to do a fashion show.”

Over the next few days it was sorted out that Penny and Jagged were going to organize most of it. Marinette just had to come up with 4 more designs and sew 8 outfits in 2 weeks.

--------

After staying up late for 2 days designing the other 4 outfits it showed on Marinette. It was first period and she was asleep at her desk.

Adrien looked at her as he walked in with Nino. He turned to Alya, “What’s wrong with Marinette?”

“She managed to finish the last of the designs last night.” Alya said while patting Marinette’s head. “Poor girl is so stressed right now.”

“Oh, the fashion show to raise funds for Saint-Vulbas. I was thinking of asking my dad if I could be a model for her show.” Adrien looked at Marinette with fondness.

“Well, you’ll have to let her know today. After school she’s going have to get the measurements of everyone and start sewing all 8 outfits tonight. Jagged is picking her up after dinner to go buy the material she needs.” Alya continued to stroke Marinette’s hair.

“She’s sewing them all on her own?” Nino asked.

“Mmm hm.” Alya nodded. “I would love to help her but I keep making a mess of things when I try to sew.”

“I could ask my dad for help.” Adrien spoke.

“Really?” Alya asked.

“Yeah, I know we’re in between shows and shoots so things aren’t busy for the seamstresses. Maybe dad would be willing to let one or two of them help out. They know how to sew on a deadline.” Adrien glanced at the sleeping girl. “Do you think she would like the help? I don’t want to come across as her not being able to do it, but that is a lot of work.”

Marinette chose that moment to wake up with a start. “Put your sleeves back on!” She yelled.

Alya, Nino and Adrien were shocked for a moment. Then they all burst out laughing.

“Not funny guys.” Marinette realized what had happened. “I had a horrible dream that one of my dresses decided it looked better without sleeves and took them off itself.”

“That is funny.” Nino chuckled.

“Hey Marinette?” Adrien asked softly.

“Yeah?” she responded sleepily.

“Would you be alright if I asked my dad if we could get help from one of the seamstresses? You give them the designs and they can do the sewing for some of the outfits.” He smiled at her.

“I wouldn’t want to put them out. I’m supposed to be designing the outfits and I should make them.” She was interrupted by a yawn before she could go on.

“It’s not a problem. You need the help. 8 outfits in 2 weeks while still going to school is going to be a lot. Also,” Adrien started before she could argue further. “While my dad designs, he really doesn’t do the sewing anymore. Maybe on a specific outfit but he usually gets the seamstresses to do the work.”

Marinette thought for a moment and nodded. She was way too tired to put up much of a fight. Besides, all Adrien was going to do was ask. Didn’t mean that his dad would help.

--------

Adrien went home for lunch and asked Nathalie if he could chat with father for a moment.

She came back after Adrien had finished eating and said that his father would see him now.

Adrien asked his father first if it was alright if he was a model for Marinette and Jagged’s fashion show. Adrien explained what the show was for and how much work Marinette was going to have to do and how he’d really like to help her out. Would he be willing to have a few of his designs in the show too to help draw in more people.

Gabriel agreed to Adrien modelling as it was for a good cause. However he would not have his designs in the fashion show. After all it was supposed to be Marinette’s designs. He commented that 8 outfits in less than 2 weeks would be hard for a school girl so he agreed to lend two seamstresses to help out. But they would all have work in the studio downtown.

Adrien thanked his dad and went back to school really happy. He told Marinette what his dad was going to do.

She almost passed out.

During the last class the teacher said that in support of the Fashion Show Fundraiser Marinette could take this time to get the measurements of the students willing to be models and that those who wanted to help out in others ways could meet with Penny in the main yard to talk about how they could help with the food and clothing drive portion of the fashion show.

Adrien, Kim, Max and Nino would be the male models. Chloe, Juleka, Rose and Alix would be the female models.

Ivan, Mylene, Sabrina and Alya decided to help out at the drives. Nathanael says he is going to ask Penny if it would be alright if he did some artwork that could be sold. Lila says she is helping her mother with some of the government organized things and asks to leave.

Since Adrien’s measurements are in his dad’s file Marinette quickly takes the measurements of the others and has Adrien write them down.

-----------

When Jagged comes by after dinner he says they are swinging by the Agreste place first.

“Why are we going there?” Marinette asks.

“We’re picking up Adrien Agreste. His dad called me this afternoon and said you could have access to his fabric room to pick out stuff for the outfits.” Jagged helped her into the car. “Adrien is going to allow us access into the building.”

Marinette was floored.

Over the next week and a half Marinette went to school during the day and then her and Adrien would go to his fathers business offices downtown and she’d look over what the 2 ladies had done. As the seamstresses could work all day long they said they’d do the majority of the outfits for Marinette.

Marinette insisted on making Adrien’s and Rose’s outfits herself as they were going to be the only matched pair.

Rose drops by a couple of nights in a row for fittings. Adrien has been hanging out with Marinette the whole time. Chatting, trying on the outfit and just watching her sew. The other class mates came by 4 days before the show for their first fittings.

With 2 days before the show all the outfits were complete and final fittings were done.

--------

The afternoon of the show Marinette was a bundle of nerves.

Marinette was pacing and worrying in front of Adrien as a makeup artist put on the final touches before he was to go out for the show. “Oh gawd, what if people see the outfits and hate them and demand their money back. What if someone trips and breaks a leg or an arm. What if Hawk Moth finally decides to attack. I’m glad that he hasn’t done anything since the bombing but he could change his mind today. What if..”

Adrien, finished with makeup, got up, went over to Marinette and put his hands on her shoulders to stop her.

“Everything will be fine. Everyone is in their outfits and they look great. They’re getting makeup on. We all went through rehearsals yesterday and know where to walk. Safety inspectors have looked over everything and it’s all safe. Nathalie is stagemanaging.” Adrien kissed Marinette’s forehead. “Nothing will go wrong.”

Marinette blushed and almost forgot to breathe.

“Yeah Mari,” Kim struck a pose, “These outfits are amazing.”

“I feel pretty.” Juleka said. And she looked it. Everyone else made positive remarks about how everything looked and how well it would go.

“Now,” Adrien put an arm around Marinette and steered her towards Penny and Jagged. “Go. You need to be with them greeting people before coming back her before the show actually starts. We’ll take care of everything back here until then. When the last of us have come out for the final walk you join us on the stage and receive your well earned congratulations.”

Marinette looked at all her friends backstage and almost started to cry. “Thank you everyone.” She then went out and hugged Jagged. Now she just had to wait for the show to start.

#adrinetteapril2019 #mlp #adrien x marinette #adrinette april 2019

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sunflowerrichie · 6 years ago

Text

my boy

chapter 1: eighth grade

“who’s richie?”

“he’s my boyfriend,” she began, her eyes glazed over and a pleased smile on her face. puppy love; something eddie would never get the chance in having with richie.

summary: ever since they met in eighth grade, richie had been disappearing for weeks (even months) at a time, leaving eddie to think they’re on bad terms; though, that’s not really why richie disappears.

warning(s): language.

author: richie (sunflowerrichie)

note: this book is based off real life events, so if the details are too exact, that’s why. i don’t know how many chapters there will be at the moment due to events after the 7th chapter not happening yet, but i will let you guys know when i’m going to post the next chapter.

word count: 2,076

ao3: x

tagging: @addimagination

“who’s richie?” eddie had asked myra, his doe eyes wide and questioning; he briefly thanked whatever god was out there that the girl could not see him, for she’d read right through him. if eddie could go back in time from where he was now, he would’ve never asked that simple question containing only two words, though he already knew this was another one of her unsuccessful boyfriends. there was a comic book in his hand, one he disregarded the second someone new was mentioned.

myra fixed her hair from where she was lying on the couch, responding quickly. “he’s my boyfriend,” she began, her eyes glazed over and a pleased smile on her face. puppy love; something eddie would never get the chance in having with richie. “he’s tall and lanky... got dark, black hair; i’m surprised you haven't seen him around, eddie.”

myra had met eddie in sixth grade, easily becoming friends with the hypochondriac. the smaller boy made a habit of wiping her desk down with cleansing wipes before she sat in it, and in return, she gave eddie platonic love. his mom loved her; for she was just as neat as her sweet eddie-bear and she vowed to make sure he’s taking his medication on time. she was much like sonia, actually; except for being a believer in ‘love at first sight’.

this wasn’t the first time she’s been head over heels for someone, nor would it be the last, but eddie was used to it at this point. each time, he’d make himself presentable for her boyfriend, and each time, they’d never show much interest in the asthmatic boy.

eddie hummed, feigning carelessness and turning back to his book. “is he in eighth grade, too?” he had asked, flipping the page over, though his ears were perked up and his eyes were no longer scanning the words printed nicely on the paper.

“yeah,” myra responded, her voice like she was up in the clouds, high on euphoria. she snapped back quickly, glancing down at the boy on the floor and catching his eyes. “you should talk to him; i think you would start to like him,” more than you think, eddie would learn to realize. before he could decline the offer, though, she was speaking again. “he likes david bowie... and what’s that one song you like?” she paused, her eyebrows scrunching together. “uh... something about the rains in africa?”

eddie perked up quickly, his hot chocolate colored eyes twinkling with the white marshmallows sculpted deep inside them. “africa by toto,” he had said, his cheeks growing hot. eddie kaspbrak loved music, he always had; and now that he would potentially have someone to discuss this love with, he was immediately hooked. he found out three years later, though, that it did not work out the way he had planned. he snapped out of his daze, his smile still apparent. “is he coming over?”

the girl grinned from ear to ear, unbelievably delighted that her best friend was keen on meeting her boyfriend. she looked down at her phone then, the screen lighting up and reflecting on her face in a green kind of glow, the color of her lock screen. “he said he’s on his way,” myra started. “he lives just down the street, so he’ll be here in a few minutes.”

the short boy was struck with a sort of fear then, subconsciously fixing his hair. he nodded, biting his lip and trying not to act suspicious (though this was normal for him; he was always afraid new people would think he’s too messy, too uncaring). myra didn’t seem to notice, though, and kept staring at her phone with a smile, typing away at the keys. at this realization, eddie stood up and coughed awkwardly. “i’m gonna go use the bathroom.” once he got an ‘okay’, he started walking.

when he came out of the bathroom after a few deep, calming breaths and a puff of his aspirator just in case, his clothes were freshly lint-rolled and perfect, his hair was combed and neat, and his teeth were nice and brushed. his fanny pack was around his waist, keeping him grounded and secure. he heard talking from the living room and walked into the doorway, his hands cupped at his front.

richie tozier turned to him, a wide grin on his face and his glasses askew. eddie let his eyes drift around the boy, taking in every detail he could in the three seconds he allowed himself to stare. richie had a grey shirt on, a white and navy blue hawaiian shirt draped over it. the fabric was loose on his skinny frame, and eddie noticed three cigarettes extended out of his pocket, making the small boy’s hands start to shake. his pants were black and tight, complimenting his long legs. and to top it all off, he had black and white slip-on vans over his green and purple socks. he didn’t match; but it suited him in a way eddie felt jealous of.

“like whatcha see?” the tall boy asked, making eddie blush in realization that he noticed the staring. before he could respond, myra spoke again, catching the asthmatic off guard. he had forgot she was in the room.

“richie, this is eddie,” she gestured towards him. “eddie, this is richie,” and back towards richie.

the glasses-clad boy grinned even harder, making eddie wonder if his face would split in half with the force of the grin. the smaller boy looked over to myra quickly, her giving him a smile and her eyes saying ‘this is normal, don’t be alarmed’. he stepped forward and stuck out his lanky arm, waiting for the small boy to shake it. he didn’t; he was afraid richie would think his hands were too rough (he forgot to apply lotion). “richie tozier.”

one week after richie introduced himself to eddie, the asthmatic was at myra’s house again, same as last weekend. “what did you get for number 6?” the girl asked, flipping her paper over and furrowing her eyebrows. she was across from eddie on her bed, both of them lying on their stomachs and going over their math homework.

“two,” eddie responded easily, writing something down on his paper. he then paused for a while, his hand hovering over his paper as he thought. “what do you want to do tomorrow?” he asked, looking up at her with hope in his eyes. hope that richie would come over again. hope that they’d have another chance to all watch a movie together (he had sat on the ground the whole time, though, trying not to pay attention to the sound of their lips smacking together every once in a while and the bounce of richie’s leg on the carpet). he hadn’t got that close to richie yet, for he’d have to take a puff of his aspirator every time he thought about it; but with richie’s loud mouth and his easy-going attitude, it was slightly easier than he thought.

myra hummed, looking up at him briefly before turning the page in the blue textbook. “i was planning to have richie come over at around ten in the morning,” she spoke, seeming to think them over as they floated out of her mouth. “is that okay?” she blushed slightly, looking back up at eddie.

the small boy nodded, pulling his phone out quickly to set an alarm for nine in the morning. he told himself he’d need time to wake up, but he knew deep down that he really only did that because he wants to look good for the taller boy. “that sounds good,” he smiled, glancing at the time quickly. he stood up then, grabbing his fanny pack and snapping it around his waist again. “be right back, i gotta take my medicine.”

the second it turned nine o’clock the next morning, eddie’s phone was ringing and the sound was echoing through myra’s living room. the small boy groaned and rolled over, shutting off his alarm and rubbing at his eyes. when his mind got a chance to catch up and his first thought was richie, though, he was up and rushing to turn the shower on.

when richie opened the door an hour later, he was grinning and his nose was a different color, the cold, november air outside making his skin blush red.

“spaghetti!” he yelled, immediately taking interest in the asthmatic boy, much to his surprise. “i was hoping you’d be here again!”

eddie blushed deeply, water pooling behind his eyes due to embarrassment. “hi, richie,” he spoke softly, the name unfamiliar on his tongue as he scanned the room for myra (he hoped briefly that he’d get a chance for the name to finally become familiar flowing out of his mouth). “uh, myra will be here in a second, she went to-“

the taller boy cut him off quickly, wrapping his lanky arm around his shoulders. “no worries, short stack,” he started, not coming off offensive but more... fond; as if he’d known eddie since they were in sixth grade, too. “for i, the one and only richie tozier, would not mind hanging out with my favorite eds!” he finished off in a loud, almost ear-ringing, voice, grinning down at eddie, his ocean blue eyes gleaming.

before the brown-eyed boy could respond with a ‘don’t call me that’ and a soft shove, myra was walking through the doorway and richie’s arm was unwrapping itself from his shoulders, leaving him with a heart that had plunged down into his lower stomach. “i see you two have made friends with one another.” friends. all they would ever be.

to that, richie nodded, the grin still on his face. does he ever stop fucking grinning? “we have, haven’t we, spaghetti head?” the words seemed as if they came from another planet, for the sound of blood rushing behind his ears was too loud for the small boy to process what richie was saying.

he excused himself to go use the bathroom then, and when he got there, he realized he might as well have been losing his mind. “keep it together, kaspbrak,” he said to his reflection, swallowing down a lump in his throat. “it’s just richie,” the name was still unfamiliar, “just myra’s new, unsuccessful boyfriend, richie.”

when eddie finally got himself to come out of the bathroom and walk into the living room again, he was stopped dead in his tracks. myra’s pinky was looped around the taller boy’s and words were flowing out of his mouth beautifully.

“-i promise, okay? i’ll always be here for you,” and then he was moving his hand up and extending his thumb to kiss. “i never break a pinky promise.” if only eddie would have known those six words would be repeating through his head painfully for three years afterwards. richie looked like a totally different person when he was serious, eddie then realized. he felt anxiety creep up his body with the question ‘i wonder if i’ll ever be in myra’s spot’. he knew he’d probably have an asthma attack due to richie’s eyes alone.

“me and richie broke up,” is what eddie heard five days later coming through his cell phone speaker, the owner’s voice broken and rough. “i-i didn’t-”

“wait, wait, what happened?” the brown-eyed boy asked, more curious than sympathetic.

“he pinky promised me!” she wailed, ignoring his question and making eddie move the phone an inch or two from his ear. “he said he never breaks pinky promises, and he did!”

eddie stopped talking to myra after that. not because of any particular reason, but just simply because of the fact that whenever he looked at her, all he could think about was richie’s arm around him and richie’s pinky promise and richie’s beautiful, blue eyes. the two boys never swapped numbers, so eddie had to spend the rest of eighth grade wondering if richie was ever really his ‘friend’, or if he was only taking interest in the hypochondriac because of myra.

what he didn’t realize until three months later, though, was that richie actually never did break his pinky promise. he was still there for myra if she needed him, but eddie guesses he lost interest in being something more than acquaintances. richie was good with his words and eddie was destined to be wrapped around his finger sooner or later.

#my boy #it 2017 #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #finn wolfhard #the losers club #jack dylan grazer #reddie #richie’s work #richie tozier x eddie kaspbrak

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liliverse-ish · 6 years ago

Text

Ignoring but Not Really

a/n: took a while babe sorry, I got really busy this last week. I hope this is good? let me knoww! i wrote little stories bc i thought theyd be cute lol

kim seokjin:

“Y/n do you think I should wear my white shoes or do the grey ones look better?” He said stepping out of your shared walk in closet.

You were scrolling past twitter checking out the trending page and laughing at all the funny memes. Since you weren’t looking his direction, the lack of vision caused you to miss whatever he asked you. At first he smiled thinking you were just way too out of it to realize he was talking.

“Y/n babe. What do you think?” once again no response on your end.

He began to question if he had done something wrong from the moment he stepped to change and now; but nothing. Out of frustration he went back into the closet to look for something funny to wear to make you laugh. Automatically his eyes land on your foax fur coat in the distance. Having such broad shoulders the jacket would not come up and stayed at his elbows. He figured you’d find it as funny as he did once he turned to the mirror. He practically jumps out of the closet wanting to get your reaction. Nothing came though.

Slowly his pout came out and he walked to where you sat on your bed. He stood in front of you and finally you looked up at him with your beautiful smile and sparkly eyes. He looked a bit surprised about your facial expression and you furrowed your eyebrows together.

“What’s wrong?” you asked.

“I thought you were ignoring me. I’ve been calling you for at least 5 minutes”

“Oh god. I’m so sorry, you know how I’m hard of hearing, if I’m looking your way there’s a slim chance I can actually hear you.”

“Babe, I totally forgot! I was overhear wondering what I did wrong. I’m so forgetful, this happens way too often. You have to yell at me every time you’re going to be doing something else so I can make things easier for you.”

He leans downs and sweetly presses his lips on your forehead. Jin always forgot but would try his best to not make you feel bad for not catching it in the first place. But now, he told you to keep your eyes on him because he needs your opinion on a very important subject, his shoes.

min yoongi:

“Baby should we invite the guys for dinner tonight?” Yoongi spoke from a distance.

You were too busy watching your favorite movie and paying attention to what was happening to be able to catch whatever Yoongi had said. The movie came to an end and you made your way into the kitchen to put wash the dishes you had dirtied while eating snacks.

“Y/n, so should I tell them they can come or no?” his voice was at a regular tone but he wasn’t close enough for you to catch what he had said.

He huffs to himself thinking you must be mad at him or the boys since you were usually the one to respond very excitedly to the guys coming over. You walk past him and give a sweet smile but he just tilts his head to the side and lifts one eyebrow. He watches you sit on the recliner chair in your living room and begins to think to himself. He stares for a while until you feel his eyes on you and you turn to face his direction.

“Is something wrong babe?”

“Not to me. What’d I do? Or what did they do?”

“Who’s they?”

“The guys.”

“Nothing.. speaking of them you should invite them over! It’ll be so fun to have dinner together!!!”

He looks at you with a sort of confused look and lifts his eyebrow again, “I just asked you twice if I could invite them.”

“No you didn’t silly!” You giggle walking up to him, “Oh wait. It happened again. Yikes.”

His face seemed to finally get what happened and he giggled back at you and pulled you into a warm hug.

“OH! Right. I forgot it was hard to catch what I’m saying sometimes. Don’t worry about it babe, I’ll invite everyone right now.”

He was always understanding. Forgetful. But would never make you feel bad for not realizing you couldn’t hear him clearly unless you can lip read or pay close attention.

jung hoseok:

Hobi was in the mood to show you a new choreography he came up with while on his free time. He couldn’t find his speaker, and just couldn’t remember where he left it. You had started to help him look for it so you could watch his new moves but it was no use because you couldn’t find it either. Finally in the last place he looked, the bathroom, there it stood on the counter.

“I found it sweetheart!” Hobi said walking in the room you were in bent over looking through different pieces of furniture.

“You can stop looking y/n,” but you carried on.

At first he was a little taken back by no response but he tried once more; it still didn’t grab your attention. You weren’t the type to get mad over such a small thing so he was really taken back this time when you ignored him for the third time.

A few seconds go by and he realized you probably missed what he said because your attention was else where. He comes next to you and lightly taps your shoulder, you stand up and face him, he brings up the speaker to his face and smiles. You giggle at his silliness and high five him.

“Where’d you leave it? Was it in the bathroom again?”

“Ugh yes..” he said playfully sighing.

“You didn’t hear me earlier so I had to come up to you or else you’d still be searching.”

“Oh,” you giggle, “That would’ve been a little funny.”

He grabs your hand and leads you to a spot on your couch. He started to connect his phone to the speaker and winked at you. He was very quick to remember that you needed to read his lips so if this happened often he’d just walk up to you and either playfully pout or just continue the conversation as if it were nothing.

kim namjoon:

You and Namjoon had spent almost the entire day at his studio as he wanted to write but because it was one of the only days you’d both be able to be together he asked you to come along. He had sat in his chair in front of his computer with a pen in his hand and the cap in his mouth, as his face scrunched up, struggling to find the correct lyrics. Finally it seemed something had clicked and he wrote down a couple lines to his verse. He felt so happy and accomplished but he wanted your input and praise.

“Okay so, Y/N, listen to these fire ass lines.” he says as he spun in his chair.

“Babe. Listen!” he says while you read other lyrics he had thrown out, “Hey quit ignoring me.”

He crosses his arms against his chest and looks at you with a half serious straight face. He tries calling out your name repeatedly but you were too invested in his “messed” up writings to clearly hear anything. He turns to his notebook and lazily rips a piece of paper. He crumbles it into a ball and starts to aim it at you; he sticks his tongue out slightly and tilted his head to get perfect accuracy. In that moment you had finished reading the paper in your hands and start to look up at him but a flying white ball comes straight towards you. It lightly taps your cheek and falls down next to you on the mini couch in Namjoon’s studio.

“Hey, what did I do?”

“You ignored me. I was so excited to show you these new lyrics that I came up with but you were too invested in other things to hear.”

“Oh my. Didn’t realize, then I did deserve your paper ball on my cheek,” a small laugh escapes your lips, “Tell me the lyrics!”

Namjoon never really was bothered by your moments of not hearing him, he took the opportunities to playfully mess with you for your attention. On the rare occasion he’d forget and get pouty but it was all sweet. There were moments he’d even jump into your lap like a little kid to regain your attention. It never failed to make you laugh.

park jimin:

We all know how Jimin lives for his attention and praising, so on days he was a little low, he’d really cling himself onto you. This day in particular you were busy doing work on your computer for work/school and he just didn’t like how you weren’t focused on him. Having been turned away from him he had been calling your name for the past 20 minutes but you hadn’t a single peep because you were concentrating so hard. A couple times you heard a little noise and turn around to face him but he would just look at you and smile.

On top of being so busy, today was a very off day for your hearing. It was one of those days you struggled more hearing much of anything without putting all your energy to pay close attention. You were close to finishing up on your work and you got a little more excited to finally spend time with your boyfriend.

After finishing you made your way to him and fell lightly on top of him, hugging him tightly and cuddling into him. He seemed a bit stiff while everything played out, and his facial expression was a bit annoying and sad.

You look up to see him and he has his lips out in a nice plump pout.

“Now you want cuddles after ignoring my pleads for a full 20 minutes.”

“I wasn’t ignoring you Jiminie!” he furrows his eyebrows, “I promise. I’ve just had a little more trouble today listening without looking.”

“Ah why didn’t say so! I was sad here, feeling lonely, and unloved,” he exaggerates his sigh, “but you were just struggling.”

“I’m here now to give you all the love you are asking for.”

“Good. Sorry I should remember more than you have trouble hearing me.”

Jimin always told you never to apologize if he felt ignored but you were having trouble because he should realize that you can’t hear and should grab your attention. So he was always the one to apologize for not noticing earlier but you always reassured him it was all fine.

kim taehyung:

“... And that’s why I told Jungkook he shouldn’t buy a pet bunny while living with our hyungs.”

Silence.

Did she fall asleep? he thought. He turned to face you on the couch but your eyes were wide as you held a book in front of you reading. He figured you didn’t enjoy his story and rather read a better one to keep you entertained. He got up off the couch and looked for the remote to the tv. Once located he sat at another spot and turned on his favorite channel, and raised the volume thinking it’ll annoy you enough to talk to him.

You could hear the slight murmurs of the tv but they were sounds your ears and brain could not correlate to anything and so decided to check out what it was. Your eyes landed on spongebob dancing around and signing at the top of his lungs on the tv screen. Spongebob was Taehyung’s favorite cartoon to watch at night so he could have a good laugh before going to bed.

Your eyes land on Taehyung and he has a calm expression on his face.

“I turned the volume almost all the way up because I wanted to steal your attention, since you ignored me, but then as I saw you look up to the tv I realized it was probably because you couldn’t hear me.”

“Yeah, what were you saying?”

“I was telling you a story about Jungkook but it’s whatever. I can’t believe I always forget about you needing to rely on lip reading.”

“It’s alright as long as you get it eventually.”

His boxy smile appears and he makes a mental note to remind himself every single day. From then on he got better at remembering to ask you and speak to you if you were looking directly at him.

jeon jungkook:

All day it seemed like you’d be all about him for twenty minutes straight but then for five minutes you’d ignore him and the cycle would repeat and so he’d get pouty and whiney until you looked at him and could listen again.

“Okay whats up?”

“Huh?”

“You’ve been distracted this entire time and I’m starting to get a little jealous. Whoever you’re texting, is clearly stealing you from me.”

“Kookie. No,” you laugh, “It’s just if my eyes aren’t on you I can’t really make out what you’re saying, remember?”

His once sad and frustrated face turned into a guilty look and his eyes looked down. His lips formed a small ‘O’ and his hands intertwined together on his lap.

“Jungkook don’t feel bad. It happens and thats fine!”

He looks up and sees your smile that never failed to make his appear, and he reached out to grab your hand.

“I do this too often. But I promise I’ll try harder to keep it in mind and let you do your thing babygirl.”

From the moment you started dating he had always had an understanding you struggled with this little part. Many people would get frustrated but he made sure he wasn’t one of them and tried to remember and keep in mind you didn’t choose to ignore him.

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qethnehzul · 6 years ago

Text

The Softest Snow

[4233 Words. Version w/Dovahzul can be found on Ao3

Krosis makes a last stand for the remains of his followers, and reminisces on the things past.

Characters: Krosis, Gruthrathlir

Warnings: Character Death, Violence]

The crying of babies was quieter today. While normally Krosis would be relieved, it was a bad sign. There were fewer now, and the realization made his chest grow tighter with each passing day. They couldn’t keep this up.

Krosis trudged through the snow, staff clenched tightly in one hand and the strap of a bag in the other. Around him shuffled the remains of his loyal - men, woman, and children who had followed him in hopes of sanctuary. Somewhere. Anywhere. The Dragon War had taken their homes from them, and the lives of many of their family and friends. The cold, the exposure, starvation… and the hunters took many, many more in the following years.

Who was even left anymore?

Krosis’s eyes wearily scanned their surroundings. They had managed to wander back around to familiar territory, somewhere within the Pale. Mountains stretched up on either side, which thankfully blocked the worst of the winds… for now. A thick forest of pine trees lined the northern front, but for now they avoided it. The forest was dark, dangerous, and hard to navigate. And on top of that, it was a place that Gruthrathlir couldn’t follow.

Their patron dragon darted in and out of the clouds above, his shadow often the only sign that he had yet to abandon them. Every now and then, people dared to glance up, praying to catch just a glimpse of their guardian above. If it hadn’t been for him… many weren’t sure if they would still be there.

Krosis adjusted the bag, feeling an ache in his bones. They’d been walking for weeks now, from dawn to dusk, from one point to another. They had already been chased out of their own home and had fled west in hopes of finding safety - but it hadn’t lasted long. Soon, they were being chased back east, and more and more of their numbers thinned. Each dawn brought a new death toll, and people wept as the bodies of loved ones were left in the snow, unable to be given a proper burial. It made Krosis’s heart ache. He could do nothing for his people - nothing but continuing to herd them to an unknown fate.

He hadn’t heard from any of the other priests in months. The last person he’d reached contact with was Volsung, when they’d been in her old territory - but where she was, how she was doing, and if she was still alive was beyond him. Those who remained clung to every last available threads.

So many were gone. The temple. The dragons. His people. His friends.

Krosis let out a heavy exhale, the condensation seeping through the mouth of his mask. And still, they were hunted. Hounded. Chased. His people had gone from thousands to less than 200 - a feeble stretch of worn and tired faithful trying to walk through the knee-deep snow to the mountain pass ahead. And then what? To where? To what life? A life of hiding? A life of running? He, Krosis, a high-ranking priest of the temple, was walking beside them carrying his own bag. Years ago, when things had been okay, nobody would have believed that. Krosis may not have been as full of himself as his peers, but this… was unheard of. He had been a king. Gruthrathlir had been a god.

And now they were vermin to be exterminated.

Things would never be the same again. The other priests… he would never see them again either. He knew for certain that most of them were dead already. Who was left? Who were the ones he’d at least heard from in the past year or so? Volsung, Rahgot, Vokun, Klo and Zaan. They were still alive, at least a year ago. 6 of them total. And at one point, there had been 25 of them.

Krosis’s face turned bitter behind his mask. Before that day. Before he betrayed them.

The thought still made what little bile his body could manage boil up in the back of his throat. Miraak… his Miraak…

No, not his Miraak. He had not been his Miraak in decades. He’d left that all behind - Or at least, he wanted to think he had. But ultimately, wasn’t this all his fault? All his cause? The rebellion? The dragon’s downfall? Miraak had sparked all of it, when he’d gone and gotten himself tangled up with the Woodland Man and sought to enslave their gods.

What would he have thought, if he could see what he’d done?

Krosis scoffed quietly.

Nothing, no doubt. He stopped caring, as far as Krosis could tell. After all, what was the last thing he’d said to him?

Krosis could remember.

Two… no… maybe even three decades of being together. Of visiting in secret, of planning meetings to see one another, of dodging danger just for a moment to embrace-

And then suddenly, it began to stop. Miraak had changed. The man he knew so deeply, loved so deeply, was not the same anymore. He was paranoid, distant, detached. Faithless. Those meetings, their letters, the long nights - they slowly petered out. The letters felt empty. Embracing him felt like holding a corpse. Miraak stopped visiting him, holding himself up in Solstheim. His letters grew shorter, less interested.

Dukaan, Ahzidal, and Zahkriisos. They were Miraak’s close companions. He remembered that, he saw that. They were the only ones he talked to now. Even at meetings, Miraak pretended like he wasn’t there. After decades of just dancing around interactions until they were in private, Miraak wouldn’t even acknowledge him - in public or in private. And Zahkriisos…

The thought always made his stomach churn. The way she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, talked to him, postured around him…

And did Miraak stop it? No. Never once.

‘Miraak? Do you wish to be with Zahkriisos instead? I have… seen how she acts around you. If I am no longer of interest to you, please tell me.’

That letter had pained him to write. Every stroke of the brush made him feel like it was being carved into his very skin.

‘Zahkriisos? No. I am not. I do not care for her.’

That was it. He hadn’t even answered the second part of the question. He was avoiding it. There was never any answer about what was becoming of them. They, they, just stopped being a thing. Stopped, without any word on the matter. Not why. Not when.

One day, something had happened. And Miraak was not Miraak anymore.

Almost three decades had suddenly stopped meaning anything. Plans, ideas, habits, all of that meant nothing one day.

Krosis had pushed it off, waiting, hoping, praying for any answer, any change. Of course, it never came. He just watched Miraak grow more and more distance. The letters just became shorter and more inconsistent. Empty. Hollow. Pointless. They stopped being about things that mattered, things they cared for, things about their plans. Pointless drabble. Filler just to keep the letters flowing, if only just.

No matter how many times he’d tried to write it, each time brought tears to his face. He could not stop them from warping the paper and splattering the ink. He’d rewritten it over and over again, but each time the result was the same. Why wouldn’t it be? Two and a half decades. And this was how it was going to end.

‘To my dearest Miraak,

This is the last letter I will be sending you. I understand that, for whatever reasons, you have grown tired of me. I do not know what it is that I have done wrong, but I see you show no interest in continuing this. In us. And I cannot bear this any longer.

I wish this could have ended differently. But I wish you luck. In whatever it is you are focused on now.

Farewell, Miraak. Perhaps your future will bring you more happiness then I had.

-Nonvul’

When his hawk returned, there was a scroll of paper attached. It was small, and it took Krosis all his courage to take it and unroll it. And for what?

Just a stamp. Miraak’s stamp. Nothing more. A acknowledgement that he’d received the message.

Two and a half decades.

Krosis remembered holding the paper in his hands. He remembered how badly his hands had shaken, just looking down at the simple symbol stamped onto the page in patchy black ink.

Two and a half decades, and all Miraak had said in ending it was a single stamp.

Krosis had thrown it into the fire. The tiny paper couldn’t even finish shriveling away to ash before Krosis broke down again.

Krosis. Your name is Krosis. You are Krosis.

Nonvul was stripped away from him. Noble. Honorable.

What a sick joke.

‘We have decided, in reflection of the past few years, that it would be proper to reevaluate that in which you are named.’

Krosis.

Not Nonvul.

In the ashes and wake of everything Miraak had done, it was one more insult. One more bitter, painful reminder.

Maybe before everything, others would have disagreed. But they had agreed. Oh, Krosis remembered. They had bitterly agreed. Miraak, Ahzidal, Dukaan, Zahkriisos. They had betrayed them, no matter how close. No mistakes like that would be made again.

There would be no more friendships. No more risks.

Krosis.

Sorrow. Unfortunate. Apologies.

The words stuck to the back of his throat.

He was Krosis.

Sorrow. Krosis’s tired eyes lifted from his thoughts. His people were ragged and thin. They were dying. He herded them forward to a long, slow, hopeless death. He knew that. He and Gruthrathlir had talked about it in length, as they looked down on the ever-shrinking camps of followers. There were few places to go. Many had already fled. Many had already accepted their fates. Krosis had fought to believe that there would be some hope, somewhere, for his people. Now he knew that there would be no such thing.

And in the depths of winter, he could see the end. Each day they marched closer to it. Would it be kinder, to ask the people to lay down and accept death? Was it cruel to promise them hope of salvation and sanctuary, when he knew it did not exist any longer?

Volsung was holding out. She had not disclosed where she and her followers had wound up, and Krosis would not ask her about it. It was too risky. If any message was intercepted, he could put Volsung and her people in danger.

They were a vermin that needed to be exterminated.

Miraak had started a rebellion against the dragons and their worshippers.

Miraak was going to kill him, one way or another.

“Sonaak Krosis!”

Krosis lifted his gaze again, squinting through the snow that drifted downward. A ragged man, panting, exhausted, managed to stumble through the snow towards the dragon priest. People watched him fearfully, women pulling children closer and people exchanging soft chitter of worry.

“Yes? Is something wrong?” Krosis spoke, his voice cracking after so much silence and so little water.

The man stopped just before Krosis, shaking badly as he panted. “They’re just behind us. They’re catching up. A-at least fifty, if not… if not more. Armed. All armed,” the man said, his voice almost sounding hysteric.

Krosis looked back over his shoulder. Their pursuers hadn’t broken the ridge behind them yet, but he did not doubt this man’s words. He knew they were being followed. They all knew. It was just a matter of time before they caught up again. Krosis looked back to the man.

The man stared, brown eyes wide, tired, looking for an answer. Even the strongest, healthiest of them had gaunt cheeks, scabs, frostbite. Nobody here was in any condition to fight. The others who had slowed to listen looked to Krosis for some sort of miracle.

“Gather everyone. Head for the pass as quickly as you can. Once everyone is through, you must collapse it so they will have to reroute,” Krosis ordered, his voice low. He slid his bag off his shoulder, letting it fall into the snow with a heavy, muffled thud. He held out the strap of it to the man, who stared at him with confusion. “...I will stay here. I will hold them off as long as I can. Do not wait for me. If I am to rejoin you, I will find my own way.”

The man took a step back. “Sonaak Krosis, we can’t-”

“You can, and you will,” Krosis ordered, urging the man to take his belongings. “Go. Hurry. You don’t have time to waste.”

Soft murmuring shifted between the few around before one by one they picked up their pace. The scout frowned, eyes full of pain before he nodded and reached out to take Krosis’s bag. “Where shall we go?” He asked quietly.

Krosis straightened himself out. “Keep heading east. Head for the pass at the north end of mountains. There… they may leave you alone then,” Krosis said softly. He knew that he could not guarantee that. He knew they wouldn’t even make it to the mouth of the White River.

The man gave a bow, closing his eyes tightly. “Thank you. Please return to us, Sonaak Krosis,” he said, giving Krosis one more worried look before turning to gather up the others.

Krosis watched the man run through the snow, leaving him alone. People ahead started to pick up their pace, gathering together. Babies began to cry. He could hear the panic. Krosis tilted his head back as a shadow passed overhead.

Gruthrathlir slowly descended down, coming to land in the snow bank a few feet from him. His black spines bristled, looking down the valley in the direction they’d come from. “...You will not run?”

Krosis followed Gruthrathlir’s gaze, seeing the very tops of banners start to speckle the horizon. Slowly, he shook his head. “No. They will not reach the pass if I do.”

The wind picked up, making snow drift sideways for a few moments. Gruthrathlir slowly lumbered over to Krosis, scales bristling. “You do this, even if you know they will die anyways?”

Krosis closed his eyes. No. They would not make it. Even if they made it through the pass, they would slowly die of exposure.

Years ago, he knew his body would have been buried in a tomb as a king, tended to for the rest of time by loyal servants. He snorted to himself. Now he would be lucky if the ravens picked at his corpse before it froze over to be lost in the snow.

“We have to face this fate someday. I am ready.”

The dragon’s white scales rattled as he let out a low rumble. The two stood in silence, watching their pursuers slowly approach on the horizon. Krosis could seem them readying for battle, no doubt only worried because of the dragon. He was one dragon priest. Before, he was feared. But now, alone… he was pitiful.

Krosis turned to look at his patron. “Go. They will fight you if you stay.”

“I know,” Gruthrathlir rumbled, his tail swaying through the snow.

Krosis looked up to the dragon, the shouts of the soldiers ahead echoing now through the air.

Gruthrathlir tilted his head to look down at Krosis. “I will fight beside you until they make the pass. Then… I will bring you to them. Alive, or dead. You will not be left to fight this battle alone.”

“You don’t need to do this, my lord,” Krosis whispered, trying to steel himself. He tightened his fingers around his staff, trying to take a deep breath.

Gruthrathlir chuckled, frost curling from between his sharp teeth. “No, I don’t. Yet, I am. To the end.”

Krosis wanted nothing more then to reach out and brush the scales of his companion one last time, but he didn’t dare. Not before the men only a few dragon’s lengths from them. “May your reign last forever, my lord. It was my honor to serve you,” he said softly, pulling on his magic. He pulled on the fabric of the world around him, calling forth a frost atronach from beyond to aid him. The golem-like creature rumbled, immediately aware of its targets.

Gruthrathlir spread his wings wide, preparing to take to the sky. “I will see you again, Krosis. This I know. I promise you, as my loyal,” he said, slowly taking to the sky. The snow bloomed around him in a great cloud, making it almost impossible for Krosis to see him as he soared upwards.

Krosis exhaled slowly, casting another spell in preparation. Energy flowed through his skin, before making a dense armor of magic over his skin. Krosis’s focus returned to the armed men. Their leader stepped forward in the group, a man in heavy nordic armor. Krosis could tell he wanted to say something, something snide, but the priest didn’t give him the chance.

Krosis hurled a spear of ice out of his hand. The man jerked to the side, saved by a swipe from one of his allie’s blades. The leader gave Krosis a scowl, before commanding his men forward.

Krosis’s atronach charged forward in return, meeting the wall of men in a clash of metal and ice. Krosis took a step back, swinging his staff around. A giant fireball was let loose from the mouth at the end, exploding on the other side of the front line.

Men shrieked between his attack and the atronach’s assault, but more men pressed forward. A arrow shot forward from the crowd, missing Krosis narrowly.

He couldn’t let them get closer. He took another step back, unleashing a ice storm to try to slow the men down so he could back up a bit more. Another arrow shot through the ice, making contact with his shoulder. It bounced off his ebonyflesh, but the impact still made Krosis wince under his armor.

“Give up, dragon worshiper! You aren’t going to win!” Their leader snarled, using his shield to push through the ice storm.

Krosis narrowed his eyes, but made no response. No, he was not going to win. But he had to buy time. He resisted the urge to look back and check at how far his people had gotten. He summoned up more of his magicka, releasing another ice storm. He just needed to bide them time.

Gruthrathlir suddenly descended from the clouds with a roar, sending some of the less seasoned men scattering in a scream of terror. A stream of ice and a downburst of frigid wind followed him, pelting the men below. The arrows, to Krosis’s relief, turned to try to take down the dragon instead. Most bounced harmlessly off of the dragon’s white scales, but a few found the soft skin between plating.

Krosis grimaced, but he could not help his patron. If Gruthrathlir needed, he could just leave. He owned Krosis nothing.

But Gruthrathlir didn’t. The battle would not last long enough anyways, but it would last as long as Krosis needed it to.

The hunter’s numbers had thinned - much more than they’d anticipated. Krosis assumed that he and Gruthrathlir had at least halved how many their were, but too many still remained. Krosis could feel himself pulling at the bottom of his magicka. He didn’t have enough to summon a third atronach, or cast more ebonyflesh. His last atronach had crumbled, and he had a sinking feeling his ebonyflesh wasn’t going to be too far behind.

Gruthrathlir’s strafes had slowed down, and the last time Krosis had seen the dragon the rivers of blood were apparent on his pale scales. A few times he’d been forced to land, and Krosis feared the dragon himself wouldn’t last much longer. And yet, he fought on too.

Krosis looked back over his shoulder. The last of his people were heading up the pass, soon to make it through the break in the rocks where Krosis prayed they could seal it.

His breath hitched. Pain streaked out through his side, digging deep into his gut. His head snapped forward again, eyes wide as his hand instinctively came down to his side. His fingers brushed against the cold shaft of an arrow, and came back with warm, red blood. He looked at his wound, his hand, before looking back to the people before him.

The next arrow hit his pauldron, bouncing off, but it came with enough force to make his shoulder jerk backwards. Krosis hissed in pain, raising his staff weakly to fire another fireball. Nothing. Even his staff was out of juice.

A weak groan of pain was wrought from his lips at the next arrow, feeling it land in his shoulder. The end of the line was finally here. He pulled on the very last strands of his magicka, using everything he had to cast one more ice storm. Just a bit longer…

Krosis looked back over his shoulder. Only a few lingered, paused as he could only assume they looked down at him. They made it. But for what? To die on the other side…?

What difference did it make? Maybe they would make it anyways.

Another arrow dug into his ribcage, making him stagger back. He tried to take a deep breath, but all he got was pain. He coughed, legs shaking before he turned to face the remaining soldiers. Blood rushed in his ears, and the sound of his own breathing in his mask sounded suddenly so much louder. His mouth tasted like iron, and when he coughed he could feel warm liquid spray from his lips and out of the slit of his mask.

Were they saying something? He could see the leader’s mouth moving, but it all sounded muffled.

Krosis tried to keep his staff pointed at them, exhausted. He had to keep going. Keep them back. Keep his people safe. He was a dragon priest. He would lead them to safety, like he always did, like he promised he would. His vision tunneled and blurred a bit as he struggled to stay standing, not moving back even as his enemies grew closer.

So damn tired. So much walking. So much wandering for nothing.

“Do you think they would allow me to move?”

Miraak glanced over at him, brow arched. “Hm?”

Krosis shrugged, looking back out at the ocean. He leaned forward on the balcony. “Our temples are… so far apart. It is such a great distance to travel to see you. I thought, perhaps, that I might be allowed to relocate.”

Miraak chuckled. “To where?”

Krosis shrugged again. “Somewhere closer.”

Miraak hummed, stroking his beard in thought, though Krosis could tell it was more mocking than serious. “You would have to change spots with Nahkriin, or Haldriin. I must assume that Nahkriin would be… less than interested.”

Krosis snorted. “There are mountains in my territory.”

“Yes, but not nearly as many,” Miraak leaned forward as well, watching a gull drift in the breeze. “What about Gruthrathlir?”

Krosis blinked, before looking out at the ocean as well. “...You mean more to me, Miraak.” Krosis slid his hand across the stone, finding Miraak’s. He tangled his fingers slowly with his lover’s, holding his hand tightly.

Miraak looked down, before moving to place a gentle kiss on Krosis’s temple.

“Do you think there will be a day when we can ever be a family, Miraak?” Krosis asked quietly, leaning into Miraak’s shoulder.

Miraak exhaled slowly, leaning back before resting his cheek on Krosis’s head. “I… I will ensure there will be,” Miraak mumbled, his gaze soft.

For nothing.

Krosis spat up another mouthful of blood, crimson dripping out of the mask’s mouth before slowly dripping down into the white snow below. Splatters of blood already left a trail from where he’d been standing to where he’d ended, his legs just holding.

For nothing. Everything. The mask. His loyalty. His love. His life.

Krosis.

It had been for nothing.

The last arrow embedded itself in his chest, to the left of his armor. His legs finally gave out, and he fell backwards into the snow. Powder drifted up around him as he sunk into the snow, seeing some of it creep up in the blurry edges of his vision. His staff remained in a deathly tight grip, refusing to let it go. His other blood-stained hand lay stretched out to his side.

Gruthrathlir’s shadow circled overhead.

His skin was so warm. Soft. Tangled together in the dim candle light.

Krosis’s eyes grew heavy.

Volsung shook her head, turning away as he pulled his mask back down quickly, cheeks scalding red.

“I saw nothing,” she said flatly, though they both heard the teasing tinge to it.

He’d given Krosis’s side a almost playful squeeze in return.

Why?

The necklace felt heavy around his neck, but warm. He’d been keeping it hidden around his own neck until they were alone. How happy he’d felt.

Suffocating. A weak choke, more iron. Pain, cold, numbing. Dark shadows of people looking down at him.

It had felt heavier when he’d hurled it into the ocean. Watching the splash of the waves. The quiet presence of Vokun at his side.

The people backed away quickly as dark blotches speckled his vision.

Quiet. Peaceful.

Gruthrathlir’s shadow grew closer.

Would he be there?

Closer. Darker.

Did it matter?

Darker.

Nothing.

Black.

There was nothing.

Krosis

#skyrim #skyrim fanfiction #tongues verse - drabble #drabble #writing #warnings:#character death #violence #characters:#krosis #gruthrathlir

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colpeia · 6 years ago

Text

Sungrass Oasis

~ Music ~

The crisp ocean breeze felt revitalizing and abrupt in such sunbaked air. Beneath an otherwise lavender sky, peach colors streaked around the sun as it hid behind a glittering turquoise horizon. Salty sea turtles roamed the shore.

On a large wooden deck overlooking the beach, a pair of tawny blood elves squatted over the sides of opposite lounge chairs.

A pensive sigh escaped Colpeia as she gazed up. “Well, at least we’re no longer hated for what we’re not.”

The solemn nature of Roholly’s nod didn’t stop the characteristically peppy bounce of her ponytail. She said nothing.

“What are mother and father going to do?”

“They’re returning to the glass forge,” Roholly said. “It’s still there, thankfully, and undamaged. So they’re going to continue running Beamgully Crystal like before.” She hesitated, an uncomfortable thought tugging her lips. “I’m honestly not sure whether Eversong Woods is going to welcome them back with awkward guilt, or the same scowls that made them leave. You know how they are about their craft, though.”

“Passionate.”

“I mean, it’s just as well. Finding a suitable place in Dalaran never got easier. Not for them at least.”

“Are you’re staying, then?” Colpeia asked.

There was gratitude in Roholly’s smile. She glimpsed at her feet. “Mhmm. I’ve already settled in, so it’s like, why return to Silvermoon? Why return to a place that was so quick to cast us out? People I had worked with for years acted like they’d never known me... It hurt.” The echo of grief leaking into her voice dropped to bitter sarcasm, “Really, I’d love to see how they deal with telling patients they need a root canal. They were far too sour. The people I work with now are a lot nicer.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“What about you though? Enough clientele?”

Colpeia huffed a laugh, “They haven’t stopped. Though, most of them have been architects. Civilians want to rebuild and protect themselves. After Lordaeron and what happened in Teldrassil, I’m not surprised.” She stopped, her humble expression heralding a confession. “Actually, because of the extra money, there is something else I want to do.”

“What’s that?” Roholly blinked, bewildered. “And honestly, why? Why work any harder when you’ve already such a solid income?”

“When this war started I was already tired. I’ve rested. Now I see a lot of other people tired. Tired, injured, and very sad. I want to give them a place to rest.” Unthinkingly, she turned to the hills winding just behind and beyond the beach house. They resembled dried and knotted-up honeycombs. “A place with soft seats and hot tea. Maybe somewhere in Gadgetzan.”

“That sounds ambitious when you don’t have a tribe to help you,” Roholly joked.

Colpeia looked back at her and returned a knowing smile.

She sat on the bed, her room under the blue blanket of midnight. A silvery glow brushed every contour. The window behind her was open, revealing distant waves glittering under a nearly full moon. Their rhythmic whisper was a soothing but everyday nostalgia to her while a cool draft carried its hush inside. Colpeia’s long stare sank into the vanity mirror against the wall. She looked as dazed as she felt.

Her motivation wasn’t purely altruistic, and she knew it. This was a time of war. She was plagued by an addiction only battles could feed - not for bloodlust or power, but an insatiable redemption she didn’t need in the first place. It spiraled her into a desperate black hole of this-still-isn’t-good-enough-to-absolve-me. If she dedicated herself to soothing survivors, it meant she couldn’t go to wanton lengths rescuing people in danger.

The mathematician knew a negative feedback loop when she saw one. Colpeia was Tildalune’s curse, which made her feel guilty, which piled onto her continued self-blame, which was Tildalune’s curse. She projected her acquaintance’s death onto people in danger only to re-experience severe personal failure if they weren’t saved. This trigger was unavoidable in wartime.

It was fortunate her tribe offered so many methods of mind-healing; they were helping. It couldn’t stop there, however. Constant over-exposure didn’t help to desensitize her, but a change in environment might.

How does one stop a negative feedback loop? Replace the causing variable. After Tildalune’s death, she had fantasies of nurturing her back to health and providing comfort. What if Colpeia frequently did something that she would associate with this ‘fake memory’? She could soothe people who survived danger, instead of succeeding or failing as their white knight.

She could learn to stop. She could focus on how she’d grown to care about Tildalune instead of how she’d failed her.

Tildalune’s spirit could be free to move on. She promised.

A vague breath of a silhouette flashed the corner of her eye, and a honeyed voice beamed in her head:

It’s time. Run, my sweet desert gazelle. It’s waiting for you. You know I’ll be right behind you.

For the next week Colpeia was a montage of sending proposal letters, receiving terms, ordering equipment, and huddling over a floor plan.

In an eclipse-like flash, holding a crescent pendant, she vanished. Colpeia reappeared amidst the celestial themed tents and Silithus-esque crystals floating above the ground. Presenting her floor plan to a gradually swelling group, she delved into thorough detail - the aesthetic, the business plan, the modest building she’d be renting, the spirit of the lounge. The appraising eyes mulling over her words eventually exchanged amenable glances.

Several yards from the shore, a herd of camels sped majestically across the gold sand, their hooves kicking up clouds in their wake. Thick ribbons of cloth gracefully fluttered behind their human and elven riders. Gadgetzan drew nearer.

Slowing to a saunter through the dusty port town, the half-dozen Shafise approached the clay dome building Colpeia had described. Knicks of moderate wear greeted them.

The following month was a slew of repairs, painting, tiling, heaving furniture, positioning lights atop secured ladders, and repositioning ornaments. Regularly catered at the entrance were water and food fine enough to convey a grateful gesture.

Sungrass Oasis was ready to open.

Colpeia sat over the bar scanning over a collection of slender menus. They catalogued an overwhelming list of loose-leaf and blooming flower teas. The rest were fanciful snacks: clamlette magnifique, clam chowder, goblin deviled clams, firebloom crab cakes, cactus fruit salad, Shafisian desert dumplings, hot roc wings, fried scorpid, and prickly pear sorbet. She wasn’t initially pleased about needing a supply of meat, until a goblin explained they always had these ingredients leftover after pest control and harbor maintenance. It was good they didn’t go to waste. This would also give the Shafise tribe the opportunity to showcase some of their traditional recipes along with blends.

Though a hole-in-the-wall, it was contemporary chic and polished, a message of modern class that she knew would hook the landlord’s interest. The floor was tiled in sleek black, and the walls painted white, brought to life by voguish artwork. Framed in thick, black frames, the paintings were as soothing as they were stylish. They depicted modern abstract, turquoise beaches, and desert blossoms. A few were pieces that might have been pretentious in another setting, but somehow felt innocently trendy here. Two of them were offset by equidistant sandstone bowls resting in tasteful square impressions on the wall. Sweeping glass sculptures ribboned with solid colors, some glittering in the light, added bold character. Most of them were feet tall and stood on the floor.

On each black chair was a plush, pale yellow cushion. Filled with sand, sea glass, and shells, a candle resting in a glass bowl embellished every table, along with a daisy in a white vase. A handful of firebloom petals were strewn about them.

Outdoor seating overlooking the beach waited behind a thick curtain. It ironically had more space than inside. Fit for a posh vacation photograph, a pergola strung with lanterns hung over the display, with translucent lilac curtains draped to the sides. To keep customers warm in the chilly desert evenings, a gemstone fire pit sat in the middle. The area was lined with potted, flowering cacti and a low wicker-weave fence. In place of daises were

One task remained before it opened: Reach out to old friends.

#stories #new tea lounge!#won't be a huge thing #might host a casual event or two with it idk

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istheresomebodywhocanimagine · 6 years ago

Note

Because I’m selfish could you do a shipping me with members thing? I’m short, half Greek and Scottish but raised in Australia (yes, I do have an accent) I have really long brown hair and hazel eyes, and I play bass and sing. I love to read and write, and I almost always have headphones on and music blasting. I also am a drama student and I love to act. Thank you so much xxxxx Love your blog btw.

hi! don’t feel selfish for this, i’mma keep it real with you pal - i have asked for several ships before nO SHAME

anyways, in relation to BoRhap - I ship you with Gwilym!!! At first I was going to say Joe, but I think I see you meshing with Gwilym really well:

When Gwilym got cast as Brian in BoRhap, you were the first one he called. First, to break the news. Second, to ask you for a little help brushing up on his skills. He knew you played bass, and it wasn’t exactly lead guitar, but he still wanted to know all of your little tips and pointers in case there was something he could use when he finally met Brian.

In fact, he came over the next day with his guitar, already ready to learn. You were happy to oblige, but you admitted to him early on that you didn’t exactly know how well you’d be able to translate your bass-centered ideas to the guitar.

“What’s different about the two?” he’d asked, seated across from you and leaning forward over his guitar, genuinely interested in what you had to say. He considered you a great mind on the subject.

“Well, the mechanics are similar, you know, as far as that goes, but the fingerings aren’t going to be the same…” you rambled on for a minute, Gwil transfixed by everything you were saying.

After you were done speaking, he’d grinned at you proudly. “You’re brilliant, love.”

He calls you brilliant a lot, actually. It’s his favorite thing to say to you, because of the way your eyes light up when he says it. They are already brimming with all kinds of energy, but after he calls you brilliant - that’s when he’s the most captivated.

You heard that word - brilliant - coming out of his mouth the most often when he was reading over your latest writing, no matter what style it was. Poetry, prose, he loved it all.

“Can I keep this one?” he’d asked one time, holding up a piece of prose you’d written specifically about him. You grinned and took it back from him, looking over it for a moment.

“What’s so special about this one?” you’d asked as you sat back on the bed, preferring the poem you’d written about him a few months ago much more than this piece. But boy, did he have an answer for you. In fact, you’d never heard someone speak as passionately about something as Gwil would once he got going.

He stood up and gave you a 10 minute speech about why he thought you should let him keep that short story, introduction, body, and conclusion to the speech all included.

“So, can I?” he’d asked after a moment of you sitting there, dumbfounded. He gave you a toothy smile as he sat back down next to you.

“You were definitely born to be an actor,” you mumbled, handing the prose to him and shaking your head in disbelief at how much he’d fought for those two pages of writing. That’d gotten a chuckle out of him, and he peppered the side of your face with kisses before happily taking the story back.

Speaking of acting, Gwil LOVED coming to your performances. He took a whole week off of filming once just so he could see every night of your theater company’s Anything Goes.

He’d posted a big long paragraph about your performance after opening night, telling all of his loyal followers how brilliant you had been, and how proud he was of you. And, of course, he’d put some sentences in there about how much he loved you and loved going on this journey with you.

And then Joe commented “-Bri” just to make fun of how eerily alike Gwil was to his elder double. Classic Joe.

Now, if we’re talking Queen, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I really think I ship you with Roger - HEAR ME OUT, I have some (probably weak) reasons:

The reason I think you’d caught Roger’s eye before any of the other boys is because of your accent - he’d latched onto it almost immediately after hearing you speaking to Deacon, who had hired you as a bass tech. You were both eagerly discussing some kind of system that Roger hadn’t a clue about, but your voice was like a drug to him.

He’d made a point of inserting himself into the conversation, introducing himself and chastising John a bit.

“How come I haven’t met your friend here sooner?” Roger scolded John playfully, John just laughing and shaking his head.

“This is Y/N, she’s my new tech. I figured I’d introduce her to the most sane members of the band first, but first I have to figure out who those are.”

You’d laughed at that, particularly because of the mock hurt on Roger’s face before he’d reached out to shake your hand, you introducing yourself this time.

“That accent,” he’d had to point out, letting go of your hand, “Where is it from?”

“Australia. What about yours?” you’d countered, noticing a bit of a different lilt to his words than John’s.

Roger scoffed at that, shrugging. “Cornwall. Exciting stuff, eh?”

After that day, he’d always find reasons to come and talk to you, sometimes the reason being no better than him wanting to hear your accent.

The day Roger realized he actually might fancy you was when he’d noticed you writing on one of the off days and asked to see a sneak peek of what you were doing. Roger loved writing songs, and wondered if you had any good material.

You did. In fact, he was thoroughly impressed by your work, and spent the rest of the day work-shopping with you, which spilled over into a late night coffee run before it was time to go hop on the bus to head to the next tour stop.

You were in the coffee shop, talking about what Queen had coming up after this tour, when Roger had redirected the conversation.

“You know, I’ve never asked, what did you study back home?” he’d inquired, curious to see what kind of person you were. He’d pegged you as some sort of major similar to John based on your identical knowledge of his bass, so he was pleasantly surprised when you revealed that you were a drama student. “An actor, huh? That must be why you’re so seemingly interested in all of Brian’s stories. God, explains so much now.”

You had to laugh at that, shaking your head. “No, no, Brian actually has some good stories and knows how to tell them. Now you, on the other hand…” you’d trailed off, Roger recoiling in slight insult at what you’d suggested.

Someone who could keep up with his humor and insult him while they were at it? You were growing on him quickly.

One thing he always really enjoyed doing once you grew more comfortable around him was (carefully) taking your headphones and listening to a little bit of whatever you were currently listening to.

At first, it annoyed you a bit, but when you realized he was genuinely wanting to pick up on some of your music taste, you allowed it to happen with little to no issue.

Also, he’d started slipping you song recommendations on tapes of his, labeling them cute things and drawing little smiley faces on them. Though it was difficult to understand his scrawlings sometimes, you cherished those tapes.

While we’re talking about songs, Roger liked to hear you sing. One time, you were trying to explain a part of the song where you thought Deacon wasn’t getting a good sound out of his bass to another tech, and you started singing the chorus part where it started sounding off.

Roger was, for lack of better words, shook.

Like, he loved your voice.

So, clever little gentleman he is, he found a way to start getting you to sing around him more by pretending to hear issues with the bass in the songs they’d play during their sets.

“It was like, it was muted during the last part of the second chorus, you know?” he’d said one time, working his way into it nonchalantly. “Like, the part where, you know, Fred goes, ‘and I love the things…’“ he’d trailed off, pretending not to remember the next part.

You thought for a moment, then you sang in a soft voice just to clarify. “And I love the things, I really love the things that you do, oh, you’re my best friend? That part?”

“Yeah, yeah!” he’d say, smiling and pointing at you like you were a genius for remembering the simplest lyrics in the whole set.

You caught on after a few times of false alarms from him, but you let him keep believing that he had you right where he wanted you. It was honestly really cute that he’d go through so much work to hear you sing, even if he didn’t necessarily need to try that hard.

(But don’t tell him that, for God’s sake.)

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transfemininomenon · 7 years ago

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thanks for posting the stuff you've been writing tonight. im ftm and haven't started t yet or anything. i hate being trans and hate myself and my messed up brain is usually resistant to any kind of "it will be okay" positivity but what you said spoke to me and it just feels.. real. like i just feel like i can trust you that ill get better at this. i still feel hopeless but you make me want to try to not be. anyway i love you congrats on starting hrt queen

honestly its hard. its really really hard. basically like my whole life ive hated myself, ive hated what i was, and so much of my life was marked by SO much confusion and doubt and hate and i didnt think i could ever really be happy with myself. like, ive been IDing as a trans woman for two and a half years, and for two whole years outside of tumblr i was totally in the closet there because i was just SO afraid of telling anyone, and i doubted myself constantly on whether the things i was feeling was real or not

but then suddenly the last half a year has just been…. so much Better. i started seeing a therapist who has been amazing and seeing her has been such a positive experience with me learning so many healthy coping mechanisms and ways of dealing with my dysphoria on top of my depression/anxiety and who was SO incredible with helping me get transition resources sorted out, ive Finally started hrt, and above all i finally came out to my friends and theyve been nothing short of amazing

i know i talk about my friends and how great theyve been a lot but theyve really been SUCH a huge part in me getting to the point im at. i was terrified for years of ever telling any of them, thinking they’d leave me or best case scenario have things be weird or have our friendships change, but they ended up being SO incredible. i remember when i told the first two of my friends about it and how they both immediately went and changed my name in their phones to alice, how they took the time to ask me about pronouns/name/words i was comfortable with, how the next day they took me out to dinner to hang out and to just let me talk about everything and show that they supported me. and how when i told another friend how amazing and supportive he was, and how when i went and told the rest of my friend group the one friend i was sort of worried about just immediately smiled and was like “hey congratulations on being able to tell us”

and i just think about how my friend whose house we hang out at’s family knows, and how when they were told his mom and grandma both hugged me and told me how proud they were of me, and how his mom told me that their house was always a place i could stay if i needed that, and how she later signed a card with “your other mom”. and i just think about how the week after i told my friends they threw me a surprise party to celebrate me coming out, how all week they’d been planning it, how they’d tricked me into talking about different snacks and stuff id liked, how they got me cards and a big amazon gift card for me to order clothes with. and especially how they just explained that theyd talked about it and that it sucked that usually Best Case Scenario when someone comes out was just people not being awful, and how they wanted to do More than that and that they wanted to show how much they loved and supported me and that they’d be there through anything

and my real point there is that i spend over two years worrying and doubting myself and being nowhere Near close to wanting to come out, and now im surrounded by so many incredible people whove given me unimaginable support, who make me feel so loved, who have been Incredible with everything. and how months into everything its all gotten so easy, so casual, for me to just be alice and to be a girl around them, and how while before i was worried our friendships wouldnt last or would change how the only change that happened was i feel closer to them and more loved than i ever couldve thought

things are scary and Painful and i know “things will get better” comments can be really hard to believe but genuinely i never thought i could be as happy as i am now. and the same will happen to you. youre gonna find so many people who love you, who support you, who are incredible and wonderful. things might not be perfect, but youre gonna learn that your identity can be wonderful, and loving, and above all, healing

my life isnt perfect, not by a long shot, and there’s plenty of things i still struggle with. theres incidents like today where ive got people telling me im not Really Trans, the majority of the world still hates my existence, most people dont know im a woman. those things dont really go away, but for me at least ive learned to just… let them go. my friends are there. my friends who i love more than anything and who love me back. the people i love and the people i choose to spend my time with know me as Alice, love me as Alice, and ive learned that god that is more than enough. who cares what the world might think? the people i want to be with are on my side, and thats all i really need

youre gonna find people like that too, and i promise you everything else will get easier too. since coming out to my friends i have so much more confidence in myself and my womanhood, and im now on hrt, which is a point i thought i would Never really be at. and i know that in time you’ll get there too - you’ll be surrounded by people who love you, you’ll be confident in your identity, and youll learn to love yourself. it wont always be easy and i know “it gets better” doesnt fix any of the Now pain, but god it will all be worth it in the end. i promise. keep your chin up, keep going, and in time you’ll suddenly look around at all the love around you and wonder how everything couldve ever felt so scary

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voidselfshipp · 4 years ago

Text

Wait for it

Cw:alcohol.

A/n: I wanted to make my own little fic abt the song he sings about another character, its slightly altered here so it fits the fic.

Song here bcs it slaps.

Burr sighed being dragged by Alexander to a bar, he sits there, drinking while the others talked.

There in the corner, a girl drinking with her Friends.

-- who you looking at burr?-- Alexander teased.

--n no-one!-- he answered back.

-- oh is that Lady over there-- Alex said-- shes very pretty, maybe I should go and talk to her!

--dont you dare Alexander!-- he answered back standing up to go talk to her.

Hamilton and his Friends watched the scene unfold with amusement.

Theyd never seen burr this nervous before, he almost Fell flat on his ass two times now.

They talked the whole night until she had to leave, Alexander, half asleep and dead tired walks over to burr with a "im about to kill you" face.

-- and?

-- her names jerico,we agreed to send eachother letters since she rarely visits the pub

Alex sighs-- oh thank god, I have to admit it was quite funny seeing you stumble Like that

-- well luckily for me she found it adorable

The men say their goodbyes thinking that the struggle was over.

Oh how wrong they were.

Every time burr hung out with them hed ramble about how much he was in love with jer, how her letters were the best thing to happend to him during the week, how the little gifts she made him were all carefully kept.

--So, when Will you ask her out?--herc asked with a brow raised.

Burr freaks out,his cheeks darkening-- dont you think its a bit rushed? We've only talked for a couple of weeks--

Alexander chokes on his drink-- A COUPLE OF WEEKS AND YOU STILL DONT WANT TO ASK HER OUT?! burr youre my friend, but I Will slap you, how can you be so blind!

He sighed-- im just waiting for it

Laurens Holds back Hamilton who holds the bridge of his nose-- Jesus Mary and Joseph-- he let out a long exhasperated sigh-- weve talked about this burr, you need to commit

Knowing where this could end up the rest change the subject of the talk trying to Keep things calm.

But finally aaron asked her out on a date, jerico was happily waiting for burr who arrived just in time.

The date went smoothly, but jer felt something was off.

--i feel like im boring you, I talk to much I know that

--no no no! Dont say that I enjoy hearing you talk

Jer perks up with a small smile-- I uh...thanks, ill...ill see you later

The date ended leaving burr with the suspicion that something was wrong, he brought this to Alexander who was on the verge of losing his shit.

-- the problem here my friend-- he said gripping aarons shoulder a bit too tight-- is that youre still "waiting for it" she feels as if shes boring you, can you for the love of GOD take a step for once?

--id rather Keep my options Open-- he said before Alex had to leave for some air.

Jer sighed leaving the half written letter on her desk, what was the point if Aaron wasnt interested in her anyway, she sits on her balcony head resting on her hand that was ontop of the handrail.

She ends up falling asleep like that as she ponders of what the world could've been like if burr was interested in her.

One night, just like that in the same spot and way she was, she saw none other than burr.

-- what are you doing here!?!--jer asked amazed.

Burr only looked away-- I just...I am...im...sorry...im not the guy to take a step forward first jerico, Im so in love with you, lord knows I am,im so sorry for making you think im not interested in you...

Jer sighed leaning on the handrail-- its okay burr, but I hope that an apology is not the only thing youre here for

He smiled looking away with his cheeks darkening as he snickered-- no...it isnt,I was actually thinking of serenading you

Jericos brows rise-- oh well then go ahead

The smile that spread on her lips was enough of a confirmation for burr--

Jerico writes me a letter every day

I'm keeping the bed warm while I wait for her but

Jerico, she's mine

Love doesn't discriminate

Between the sinners and the saints

It takes and it takes and it takes

And we keep loving anyway

We laugh and we cry and we break

And we make our mistakes

And if there's a reason I'm by her side

When so many have tried

Then I'm willing to wait for it

I'm willing to wait for it -- burrs passion while singing makes her tear up a bit she claps screaming praises at him.

--come inside, let me hug you!

And he did so,Aaron is almost knocked down to the floor as jerico hugs him tightly sobbing on his shoulder.

He hugs her tightly caressing her hair-- I love you jerico, im sorry it had to come to this...-- he lifted her head up by the chin wiping her tears away.

Jer presses her face against his hand as burr kisses her.

She kisses him back and pulls him close.

That same night he spend it there, no more waiting for it on his end.

#f/o fic #burr tag pending #cw alcohol #tw alcohol #my best try at slowburn cause i cant for the life of me write this #i dont have the patience for this #but enjoy

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