#this fucking quote will haunt me till my last breath

[gfanlocalcryptid]

He chided me - as he often does - for staying up too late. "Don't forget what happened to Icarus," he told me as he packed up his things and left.

"He didn't flap hard enough," I replied.

-Stanford Pines, Journal 3

You know how some people say that the tale of Icarus was about him falling inlove with the sun? And how he wished to be close to something so dangerous and even with the warnings he was given, he flew too close. The sun couldn't save him or maybe it just wouldn't. yeah well there's this guy called Stanford Pines--

[superblysubpar]

modern!husband!steve harrington x wife!you

2,603 words

warnings: so like, technically, you don't have to read "We'll Call It Love" , my modern steve series, BUT you're missing soooooo much that got these two idiots here, so I really encourage you to do so. This scene is so so so much more fun if you know all that led up to it, I promise. anyways: | alcohol mentions, slight descriptions of use by reader | smut (public - you get caught *kind of* / fingering / piv unprotected intercourse - creampie / wife,mom,breeding, all the kinks from one Mr. Harrington) - 18+ as always

a blurb for the "Trick or Treat, Freak?" event - don't forget to vote for tomorrow at the bottom of the fic!

A/N: I just wanted to say again, thanks for loving We'll Call It Love so much. I actually got to go see the band COIN last night, the music that inspired the fic, the screenplay, and just...wow. I don't have other words for it. Idk, feeling very sappy for all of you today and this story that means so much to me. Thanks for being here, it was fun to revisit these two 💛 and *now* I'm done with them.

Probably.

The day hadn’t been without its issues, but he’d expect nothing less, when it comes to the two of you.

First, there was Eddie’s girlfriend showing up in fake blood, late, covered in swatches of dark and gory fake gashes and goo all down her arms as she frantically rushed past him and shouted something about busy season and don’t worry, his bride was gonna look beautiful and not in a tragically haunting poetic way but in a romantic sunset kissed glowing kind of way.

Which, you did.

But then, there was an issue with the cake, which, wasn’t supposed to be a cake, but a bunch of peach pies. Robin and Nancy were whispering loud enough to bring him into the kitchen, both of their mouths snapped shut as Steve blinked at the largest solitary pie he’d ever seen. It was massive, comically so, and Robin was waving her hands at him, it’s going be fine spilling out of her lips that had just been freshly glossed for photos. Nancy was on the phone with a bakery and then Eddie was stumbling through the door shouting about canceling the order. He smiled at Steve and told him that you started crying which made him frown and start towards the direction Eddie had just come from, but his groomsman and your best man stopped him, assured him that then you started laughing, that you said your parents would have loved it.

Which, ultimately led to issue number three.

Robin had approached him slowly, fixing his tie, before she whispered that they couldn’t find you, but that there was a note, with his name on it. He had grabbed it with trembling fingers, only to find it didn’t say anything like sorry or I can’t do this, but a quote:

“I’ll have what she’s having.”

He rushed past Robin, shouted about being right back.

Steve found you on a balcony, which took a little bit of work, asking the front desk if anyone booked a room under Buttercup, or Allie, Kate, and ultimately Sally Albright. Then they wouldn’t give him the room number till he confirmed his name was Harry Albright, not Harry Burns. His breath caught in his chest when you turned to look at him, chin quivering and a quiet greeting for him before you started crying. It all ended alright, after you talked about your parents and him and all of it and he kissed you and made a joke about wedding curses. If seeing you in your dress before the ceremony already happened, where was the harm in a sunset balcony quickie?

You didn’t go for it that time, only grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room with you, asking if he was ready to get married.

Which he really fucking was.

The floor to ceiling windows overlooking the skyline had been good in theory, letting in the beautiful, breathtaking sunset as you said your vows. But they also let in the warmth, the room an oven, leading you to laughing during the ceremony and swiping at his temple with your handkerchief and Eddie fanning Robin while she officiated. And cried.

There was so much crying.

But it was perfect.

You were perfect.

“Sir?”

Steve blinked away from where he was watching you take pictures in the vintage photobooth, you, Robin, Nancy, and Eddie’s girlfriend were all crammed in, sitting on each other’s laps, to the attendant in front of him.

Perfect, but distracting.

“So sorry, what did you ask?”

The venue employee smiled, like he knew the look on Steve’s face well, and then he shook his head. “Nothing to apologize for, sir. I was just letting you know that all the gifts are put away and locked in the car downstairs as instructed by your wife. Anything else I can do for you?”

His wife.

Steve looked over at you again, sighing as you tilted your head back in a laugh at the images in Robin’s hand.

He smiled at the man in front of him and shook his hand, “No, thank you.”

You felt him before you saw him, or rather, smelt him.

Your body spun to find the source of the salty and fried scent to see Steve holding a container of fresh french fries and a smile and eyes that seemed to be perfectly made, and only for you.

“Hey Mrs. Harrington,” he kissed your cheek, lips lingered against your skin as he asked, “Hungry?”

“Starving,” you groaned, your body crumpled against his as you exchanged your glass of champagne for the fries you knew would end up being a great late night snack offered. Warmth filled your stomach at the sound of your new last name, like a lovesick idiot you swore you’d never be.

Steve lifted a fry to your mouth, eyes a deep burnt amber in the low reception lighting as he watched your lips part and steal the fry from between his fingers, his tongue with a mind of it’s own, swiping out over his bottom lip as yours brushed the pad of his thumb.

You snorted.

“You’re so easy, Harrington.”

Steve lifted the fries away from you, eyes glinting as you pouted and reached for them half-heartedly, content to just lean against his body instead as he joked, “Hey. We’re married. You have to be nice to me now.”

Warm breath hit his jaw as you huffed, “Well, if I knew that was the rule, I never would have said I do a few hours ago.”

A kiss was pressed to his neck despite your words, right against his two freckles, then a smile ghosted against his skin when you heard the low rumble in his chest.

Steve’s lips brushed your ear as he bent down, speaking softly, lowly, and sending the warmth between your stomach directly between your legs.

“Don’t start something you can’t handle, honey.”

Your head lifted, stares at one another challenging and hopelessly and sickeningly in love to anyone who was watching.

“Oh,” you laughed, quietly, leaned in to whisper against his lips, “I think I can handle you just fine, Mr. Harrington.”

He had you in the bathroom not even a minute later, one hand locking the door behind him and the other pressing over your mouth as you giggled.

Steve’s mouth was all over your neck as his hands found your hips, guiding you to the counter.

“You’re so beautiful,” words warm and sticky and sweet against your skin as your head fell back against his shoulder in a gasp when his lips found a new spot behind your ear. “Can’t believe I’m married to you. Can’t believe you said yes. Can’t believe you’re all-“

His hand smacked at your ass as he grabbed a fistful of it, scrunching up the fabric of your dress you could care less about now as he growled in your ear the word, “Mine.”

“Steve,” you hated how breathless you sounded, hated how he’d barely touched or kissed you and you were wrecked already, “Hurry.”

He whined into the crook of your neck, spun you and let his nose trace along the straps of your dress, across the lace covering your chest as his mouth followed, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Steve knelt, regretfully removing his lips from your skin so he could carefully lift your dress, handing it to you with a quiet, “Hold this, honey.”

He pressed a kiss to your check as you did what you were told, but then he got a proper look at you and your lip was captured between your teeth at his groan, from the way his hands ran through his hair.

“Fuck,” he sighed, as his finger trailed up your thigh and found custom, cream colored straps and shiny buckles and pretty lace you’d ordered just for him. “Look at you.”

“You like it?” The question answered by Steve’s own lip bitten raw, his fingers still roaming higher, up the sides of your cunt, already soaked.

“Baby,” Steve laughed, eyes cast down between your bodies, watching carefully as his fingers slipped beneath the wet lace. “Do I like it? I love it.”

“That’s,” your head fell back, exposing your neck his mouth was grateful for. Distracted by the way he dragged his fingers through you, swirled around your clit, the same way his tongue was against your throat. “Go-good.”

Steve pressed against your clit harder, humming against your skin where his mouth was still latched to when your body shook underneath him. Your thighs clamped around his hand, yours clutched at his shoulders with fistfuls of your dress still between your fingers.

He removed his fingers from you, quick to make work of his buckle and pants, aligning himself with you but hesitating just as his tip brushed against your entrance.

Steve looked up at you, under his lashes that cast shadows against pink cheeks dotted with freckles. He gazed at you with the kind of look that you imagined you gave a sunset. Admiring, awed, like you were taking in its beauty the first time every time. Like you knew your time with it might be fleeting, so you had to watch it every second so you didn't miss a single second of it.

He leaned in and let his lips brush over yours tenderly, deciding to take his time and forget the frantic pace you both had started with.

He murmured into your lips as they parted in a sigh beneath his kiss.

“I love you. So much. I think I’ve loved you since I saw you in that bar, I texted Robin about soul mates before I talked to you, I-“

You caught his top lip between yours, an over too quick kiss, but then you were speaking into the corner of his mouth, against his jaw.

“I love you too.”

Steve’s forehead knocked yours, your hips wiggled, making his dick twitch as you stared into each other’s eyes.

“Ready, Mrs. Harrington?”

The tip of your nose brushed his as your laugh bubbled out of you, voice all sarcastic and fond, “Ready? I’ve been ready, Steve. You’re the one taking his tim-ohmygod.”

Steve’s smug smirk twitched in front of you as he thrust into you while fake grumbling, “Me? How about you miss I’m gonna wait over a year to say I love-fuckyoufeelsogood…”

He rolled his hips, only getting deeper, and your thighs tightened on the outside of his, head thrown back against the mirror from the feeling of him inside you, which he followed. His lips skated over your cheek, your jaw, as he slowly pulled out of you and thrust back in.

Your mouth fell open with each drag against your walls that cling to him, that want him to stay there. A noise catches in the back of your throat every time he pushes into you, each time only harder and deeper as he babbled.

“Sorry, I wanted,” he grunted, mouth finding yours only to kiss you once and keep talking, “The first time I have sex with my wife to last, to linger, to-“

Your mouth captured his in a kiss this time, tugging on his bottom lip and gasping into his open mouth when he thrust faster, shallower, your name a begged breath between the two of you.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to wait anymore,” you whimpered, your dress left your fingers so you could grip the back of his head, card your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and tug, “To finally have sex with my husband.”

Steve moaned at the word husband, twitching inside of you, which made you grin at the way his hips stuttered, at the way his bottom lip pulled between his teeth.

“Yeah?” You gripped at the back of his head a little harder, knowing what each other liked now. He frantically pushed under the fallen dress to find your clit again with ease, trying to get the upper hand once more as you asked, “You like me calling you my husband, Steve?”

Your mouth brushed the apple of his cheek, it kissed his temple as he fell forward, thrusting faster and making quick figure eights against your nerves, gasping at your teasing.

“Wanna tell everyone I’m your wife? Tell ‘em I’m a Harrington?” Your stomach clenched at the thought too, at the pace which Steve slammed into you even harder, hips meeting in a filthy grind as your head knocked against the mirror. The thumps mingling with the sound of how you were coating him, all a little louder in the bathroom and only making you both a little more turned on.

His forehead pressed to yours as he nodded, lips of parted mouths catching every time he thrust. He moaned, he begged, “Yeah, yeah. Wanna tell them. Wanna…want…pregnant. Mine.”

Your back arched, hand searching until it found his, lacing your fingers together. His others grew sloppy against your clit, slipping over it as you nodded. Chest aching from his admission, from the way you sort of wanted it too, how it didn’t scare you as much anymore, not when it was him.

“Yeah?”

“Ye-yeah, fuck, honey, I can’t-“ Steve kissed you. Passionate and breath stealing as he held your lips to his like he’d wanted to all day. Your clasped hands hit the counter, the click of your rings together made you whine into his lips when they parted. You let him go, his name loud in the bathroom, echoing against tile and sure to be heard even on the moon as his hips stuttered when you clenched around him. Your stomach burned and your eyes blinked rapidly, sure you weren’t on the planet anymore from the amount of stars you could see as his warmth spilled into you.

It takes a second for you both to come back down to earth, for Steve to laugh, for you to press your hands to your cheeks as you looked down at the mess you’d made of yourselves.

Steve kissed at sweat kissed skin, tenderly cleaning you up as you joked with each other, sleepy eyelids and content smiles. Slow kisses that left you both sighing in between lingering touches that weren’t out of necessity, but just because you wanted to be touching.

Completely in love.

He helped you off of the counter and winced at the way your dress fell down all crinkled and obviously mussed. You shrugged before running a hand though his hair, messing it up even more than you already had, then you untied his tie and let it hang from around his neck saying something about it only being fair.

He grabbed your hand, fingers curled into yours as he kissed your knuckles and led you out of the bathroom.

Robin was the first to slow clap.

Your nose pressed to his shoulder, a groaned god dammit on your lips against his suit jacket.

Then Rocketman was blasted on the speakers, a loud “Annnnnnnd Buckley owes me one hundred dollars!” comes from Eddie at the bar, earning a smack to his chest from his girlfriend, which was nice, until she said “I get fifty of that and you know it.”

And it’s all fine, Steve doesn’t really care, because most of the guests are gone and you’re laughing and heading over to grab pie, flicking Eddie’s ear as you went.

Robin slid up next to Steve, shaking her head. “Wow. I really had faith in you Harrington. A bathroom? On your wedding night? I know you two are animals, but you couldn’t wait to have your wife in, oh, I don’t know, a private bedroom?”

Steve only smiled at the way Nancy handed you a water as you caught peach filling from your lip, while you played with the little ‘S’ dangling between your collarbones with your left hand, the large blue sapphire stone sparkling next to glittering diamonds in the light.

His wife.

For those of you who don't know, Leather and Lace was an Eddie series I started when I first started writing for the fandom. I only posted two chapters, and I just fell out of writing it. It was something I was holding close to me, and I wanted to really tell it right. I've been poking at it a lot lately, and the story has changed so much, and I'd love to share it again soon. But for now, have a little blurb from it tomorrow, and I'd really love to hear what you think. This Eddie is a childhood best friend, an enemy, a stranger, and hopefully, one day, a lover. Okay, anyways, happy voting!

*voting will close at 10am CST tomorrow, 10/3

[kpophours]

The Shape of You

➵ The Boyz: Sunwoo x fem. reader / one shot, soulmate AU, college AU / fluff

➵ warnings: slight cursing

➵ word count: 2.8k

You curse under your breath, dragging the pencil over the paper in front of you, adding two more lines to your drawing. Your fingers begin to cramp, but you try to push through the slight pain, desperate to finish this today. Suddenly, your door bursts open, making you jump and squeal, pencil falling from your hand. You quickly scan your drawing and sigh in relief when you see you didn’t mess it up. You swivel in your chair to glare at your roommate and best friend, the person responsible for giving you a miniature heart attack, but her bright smile makes you soften immediately. “I made dinner!”, she says, wiping her hands on the pink apron she’s wearing, the bold red lettering reading ‘don’t judge, I’m not a professional cook’ - you gave it to her last Christmas, and it makes you smile every time you see it, the quote an inside joke between you two, “I already called you a few times but I guess you’ve been too absorbed in your work.” You return her smile and nod. “Yeah, sorry. I really want to finish this tonight.”, you explain, and she crosses the room to peer over your shoulder, her eyes taking in the soft lines and dark shadows of your drawing, “What- no, who is that? Is that… Is that him?”, Hannah asks, and tilts her head to one side. You shrug, cheeks heating up. “Yeah, that’s the face I’ve been seeing in my dreams. It has been less blurry these last few nights, and I can finally remember more details.”, you murmur, fingers gently tracing the outlines of the face you’ve been trying to draw.

A sharp jawline, dark hair falling into incredibly big, deep eyes. You’ve been seeing small glimpses of this face in your dreams for years now - not every night, but more often than not. During most of those nights nights, his face has been turned away from you, sometimes you had been able to see glimpses of his profile, or just his smile - but most mornings, the details had quickly faded from your memory again. The boy of your dreams - and you don’t mean this in a sappy, corny way, but quite literally - has been haunting you in blurred lines and vague shapes for half your life now. But this morning, it’s finally been different, this morning you were able to recall his beautiful big eyes, deep with warmth and mischief. The rest of the face is still blurry, but you have the feeling you’ll soon be able to recall more and more details.

“I’m still glad my soulmate tell was so much easier than yours.”, your best friend says, her hand coming to rest on your shoulder. You smile up at her, tracing the tattoo on the inside of her wrist. You know the same one is gracing the wrist of her soulmate and boyfriend Chanyeol. They were lucky enough to find each other during their first week of college, after they quite literally ran into each other - Hannah spilling her coffee all over Chanyeol’s favorite shirt. You still remember how your best friend had come home that night, eyes shining, cheeks bright, her smile never leaving her face. Till this day, you still don’t fully comprehend how utterly perfect her and Chanyeol are for each other - even though you shouldn’t be surprised, soulmates usually make perfect couples. Of course not everyone always finds their soulmate - some also have “normal” relationships. Some meet their soulmates only very late in life, some very early on. It’s different for everyone - just like the soulmate tells are different for each person. But Hannah’s right, matching tattoos are way easier to figure out than seeing each other in dreams, especially when the dreams fade way too quickly in the morning, or the person you’re supposed to see is just a vague, blurry shape. 

“I hope I’ll be able to remember more of his face from now on. Maybe this means he’s… he’s closer to me now?”, you say, trying not to sound too hopeful. Hannah squeezes your shoulder. “I’m sure it does. Come on, let’s eat now - I made your favorite tonight.”, she answers gently, and you immediately jump up. “Why didn’t you say so?”, you tease her, and she laughs, following you out of your room and into the kitchen. 

As soon as you open your eyes, you reach towards your nightstand to grab the notebook and pencil you placed there last evening. This morning, you’re finally able to remember the exact curve of his smile, so you scribble frantically, trying to fit the bright smile into the drawing you began yesterday evening. The face is still incomplete, half in shadow and too blurry to make out every detail. You don’t know if you’ve managed to capture the exact shape of his chin yet, and his eyebrows - are they maybe a bit fuller? You groan, and fall back into your pillows, blowing some of your hair out of your face. “Why are you always disappearing again?”, you muse silently, and close your eyes, desperately trying to remember the exact shape of his face. What shade of tan is his skin, exactly? And his hair - you’re not sure if it’s black or brown. Maybe it’s even a bit reddish? 

The more you try to remember, the more his face seems to disappear again, the details slipping away from your grasp.

You only remember his deep eyes, and his bright smile.

But one thing you know for sure - he’s ridiculously handsome. 

The rest, it seems, has to wait for another morning. 

Over the next few weeks, you begin to recall more and more details of your soulmate’s face. The exact brown of his eyes, for example. His hair is a faded red, probably dyed. His nose looks extremely boopable, you think. His smile makes your heart race, and one morning, you wake up with his laugh still ringing in your ear. 

Your drawing gets more detailed with every passing day, until one evening, you have finally managed to draw a complete face. 

You were right - he’s handsome, incredibly so. In your drawing, he’s smiling, but by now you’re also able to recall how his face looks when he’s not smiling. You grin, noting that both of you seem to have a serious case of the so-called “resting bitch face”. “Truly meant to be, huh.”, you murmur, adding a few more shadows around his jawline, until you’re pleased with the final result. You take a sip of the tea Hannah has brought you over an hour ago, it’s cold by now, but you still drink it. Just then, there’s a knock on your door, and you make a “Mh?” under your breath, letting the person outside know it’s okay to come in. Chanyeol sticks his head through the doorframe, dark hair falling messily into his brown puppy eyes. He gives you a happy smile which you immediately return. “Hey there! Hannah and I are about to make pancakes, you want some, too?”, he asks, and you chuckle. “Hannah and you, huh? I think you mean only Hannah is going to make pancakes. You’re almost as much of a mess in the kitchen as I am, Yeol.”, you retort, and he ducks his head. “Uh, maybe. I might help with the batter though - just no cracking eggs for me, you know how that turned out last time.”, he admits, and you make a disgusted face when you recall the taste of eggshell in your otherwise yummy pancakes, “Anyway, you want some or not?”, he inquires again, and you nod. “I’ll never say no to Hannah’s pancakes. I’ll be there in a second.”, you answer, and he gives you the thumbs up before closing the door again. You sigh and gaze at your drawing again. “Who and where are you, dream boy?”, you murmur, before stuffing the drawing back into your sketchbook, finally joining Hannah and Chanyeol in the kitchen.

The next few days pass without anything exciting happening, and before you know it, school is starting again. You usually dislike the first day of class, everything is unfamiliar again, and you always get lost on your way to find the right buildings and rooms, but weirdly enough, today is different - everything goes smoothly, and you even have time to get yourself a tea on your way to your first class. You find a good seat not too far in the back, but also not too close to the teacher, and begin to unpack your notebook and pencils. You rarely take notes on your laptop, preferring to do so in a real notebook as you find the scratching of your pen on paper weirdly calming. You also love to doodle when you don’t take notes, and that’s much more fun to do on paper as well.

Over the next few minutes, more and more students begin to file into the classroom, and for some reason, you suddenly feel kind of giddy, nervously bouncing your leg while gnawing on your lower lip. Soon, the teacher gives his introduction, and begins to talk about this semester’s syllabus. About halfway through the class, there’s a small commotion when the door opens again, and a very late student slips inside the classroom. When you turn around to see who’s making all the fuss, you only see the back of his head - his hair is a faded reddish color, definitely dyed. For a second, the shape of the person seems oddly familiar… But then, you just shake your head, a small smile playing on your lips when you think about all the crazy hair colors you’ve had over the past few years, until Hannah basically forced you to give your scalp a rest. “You’ll go bald if you don’t!” Seeing the faded red color now, you kinda miss your own colorful looks. Mhm, maybe you could at least get some bangs soon.

The rest of the class passes rather quickly, and a glance at the watch says you have almost an entire hour until your next lecture begins. You text Hannah, asking how her first class went and if she’s free right now. She answers quickly, saying she’s already on the way to her next lecture but that you guys can grab lunch together. Occupied with answering her, you don’t notice that the person in front of you has come to a sudden halt. You squeal when you run into a broad back, dropping your phone to the floor, the sound of the screen landing on the hard concrete almost deafening in your ears. “Oh fuck.”, you mutter under your breath, praying to whatever God or Goddess is listening that your screen isn’t cracked - you definitely don’t have the money to get it fixed. Thankfully, the case seems to have protected your phone from the worst. You exhale, relieved, before straightening and getting ready to tell off the person responsible for this accident. “And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why you don’t text and walk at the same time.”, a male voice says, sarcasm lacing his words, and you look up to glare at him. 

The second you lay eyes on him though, your heart just stops for a few seconds, before beginning to race again, hammering against your rib cage.

You silently gape at the boy in front of you, taking in the red dyed hair hanging messily into deep dark eyes. His lips are pulled into a cocky grin, his head tilted to one side, showing off his sharp jawline, arms crossed over his chest, a backpack slung over one shoulder. 

Oh how often have you drawn that face by now. 

You know the exact curve of his lips, plump and rosy and almost a bit too kissable for your liking, and by now, you know way too well how your fingers always itch to brush his too long hair out of eyes that seem to hold all the stars and galaxies in them. 

“You.”, you breathe out, and it seems that he finally recognizes you too, as his eyes get even bigger and the cocky grin slips from his face, replaced by an awe-filled smile. “Oh my God - it’s you! You’ve… you’ve been in all my dreams.”, he says in a rush, just when you open your mouth to say the same. A giddy smile splits open your face, and you nod excitedly. “Just as you’ve been in mine.”, you answer, breathlessly, and like two magnets being pulled towards each other, you both take a step closer. “I’m Sunwoo.”, he introduces himself, sounding a bit breathless himself, before he holds out his hand for you to take. You accept his handshake, feeling electricity shoot through your whole body when your skin makes contact with his for the first time. “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to finally see you - really see you, that is.” When he smiles at you in earnest this time, you swear your heart stops again, before beginning to race twice as fast as before. “Well, I think I already have a favorite class this semester.”, Sunwoo murmurs, unconsciously tugging you closer to him, your hand still securely held in his. “I think so, too.”, you answer, and return his smile while looking at him, drowning in his deep, sparkling eyes. He cups one side of your face with his other hand, brushing some of your hair back behind your ear. “I’ve waited so long for you.”, he whispers, and you feel your throat close up at his words. “Me too.”, you answer, and slide both arms around his waist. He sighs, returning your hug and placing his chin on top of your head. You listen to his quick heartbeat, mirroring your own racing one, noticing how normal and right it already feels to touch him.

You just fit - like two puzzle pieces, finally put together again. 

The fateful day you met your soulmate for the first time would forever be engraved into your mind.

Since then, Sunwoo’s hair had gone through some changes - he had redyed it red for the first few months, until it had faded to a soft brown again, and then he decided to just go back to black. You had asked him once to dye it a bright pink, but he had just given you a funny look, shaking his head before continuing to watch your favorite movie - The Cat in the Hat, your choice for this week’s movie night. A few days later, you yourself had dyed your hair a bright pink, almost giving Hannah a heart attack when you opened the door to her room. 

Over the next few years, there were many amazing first experiences you shared with Sunwoo - your first dinner together (Hannah had been so nice to cook for you guys because apparently, you didn’t only share the resting bitch face, but also the inability to cook anything edible), your first kiss (yes, Sunwoo’s lips felt just as amazing as they looked), the first night spent with each other (you had talked about literally everything and anything until the first rays of sunshine had crept into your bedroom), your first holiday as a couple (a road trip gone horribly wrong, with you guys having to spend the night in the car because one of you (you were pretty sure it was Sunwoo’s fault) had typed in the wrong address into the navigation system), your first big fight (now you don’t even remember what it was about, but you had both sulked for two days until making up, the longest you had ever gone without speaking to each other), your first encounter with each other’s families (teasing Sunwoo about his younger sister being taller than him had quickly become one of your favorite hobbies) and finally, your first apartment together (it was a teeny tiny flat, but you filled it with many beautiful memories).

You knew that many more first experiences were still waiting for you - like adopting some pets together (you were already looking at cute kittens), and maybe a wedding one day (you had to admit, after attending Hannah and Chanyeol’s wedding and crying buckets when they said their vows, you weren’t as opposed to the concept of marriage anymore), and probably also having a family of your own together - one day, in the still far away future. 

You couldn’t wait to share the rest of your life with your other half, your soulmate, the person you called your home - and you knew that Sunwoo felt the exact same way.

for my light, my love, my Summer @sunmoonieverse​ 💞

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[theliterarywolf]

How was the sequel to Tales from The Hood, a shitshow?

The original Tales from the Hood, while having some campy horror elements, still managed to present its stories and tone competently while still incorporating themes of struggles of black Americans in urban areas. 

Examples: 

A black politician who’s been trying to fight against police corruption gets beaten to death and injected with drugs post-mortem by said corrupt cops to slander his name. The politician returns from the dead to exact vengeance. Obviously this short tackles police brutality and corruption.

A little boy and his mother who are constantly beaten and abused by what he draws and identifies as a ‘monster’ who, it turns out, is the mother’s new boyfriend. The theme here is Domestic Violence and how often people try to brush it under the rug as just a way of life in the community. 

A former klansman-turned senator buys a building called ‘The Dollhouse’ that is of high historical significance to the local black community, despite their wishes and complaints, to serve as the headquarters for his racist campaign to become governor. The house in of itself was where a confederate-supporter, after the loss of the Civil War, decided to murder all of his slaves rather than see them freed. Their restless souls haunted the place until a ‘voodoo woman’ managed to calm their souls and place them into dolls. You can pretty much guess where this is going and the themes.

The final entry centers around a gang-member who, after getting hunted and shot down by rival gang-members, is taken into police custody and is given one last chance for freedom by a doctor’s new, radical behavioral therapy program. Said therapy takes a note right out of A Clockwork Orange and bombards our main character with alternating images of brutal gang-violence and KKK lynchings. After which, he is berated with apparitions of all the people he’s shot and killed; including a little girl who was a victim during one of his drive-by shootings. Of course, this kind of therapy will only be successful if the subject shows some remorse...

And all of this is wrapped in a framing device of three gang-members trying to find some drugs at a funeral-home, even harassing the funeral-director, which turns out to be a portal into hell.

... *deep breath*

I have to do a ‘Read More’ because this post got long. But I implore you guys to read on to see the abyss of insanity and bad directions that were taken in regards to the sequel of this movie. Please.

The sequel decided to throw ALL NUANCE AND TACT out of the window and give us such wonderful stories as: 

A white girl and a black girl are on a road-trip and decide to go to the... ugh... Museum of Negrosity where the owner chastises them on thinking that the uncomfortable racist memorabilia he owns (collections of minstrel show cartoons, golliwog and pickaninny dolls) are things of the past instead of acknowledging them as parts of America’s racist past. And, for some reason, the white girl is obsessed with buying one of the golliwog dolls because she had one when she was little. Anyway, they sneak back in later with the white girl’s brother who happens to be the black girl’s boyfriend, so they can steal one of the dolls. Through hijinks, the doll comes to life and grows to the size of a human being. The brother/boyfriend gets whipped to death, the black girl gets cut in half by a minstrel-colored guillotine, and the white girl... Fucks the giant golliwog doll, gets pregnant, and a few days later, has her stomach torn open as a bunch of baby versions of the doll go flying out everywhere.

Some gang-members track down a former pimp who’s changed his ways to try and shake him down for some owed money. He doesn’t comply, so they kill him but, golly-gee! How are they going to get the money now~? Oh, I know! Hold a scam medium hostage so he can perform a seance to talk to the pimp to find out about the money. But, oh no~ It looks like the medium’s powers decide to actually work this time~ Ooh~

Two douchebags hookup with two hot chicks and, after the world’s worst game of Cards Against Humanity, they decide to roofie the girls so they can record themselves raping them so they can post it to ‘le dark web’. ... Lo’ and behold, the girls turn out to be vampires who were playing 4D chess to rope the two douchebags in so they can use them for their own recording-something-brutal-to-post-online scheme. 

And... The LAST one. Oh my God, the LAST ONE. *deep breath* Okay.

So we follow a black republican councilman who is married to a white woman and they’re expecting a baby after a long line of miscarriages. But the wife is having weird bouts of bad dreams and insomnia. What are the bad dreams about? 

... I need you guys to understand. That I am not shitposting when I type the following words. *deep breath* Okay. 

The wife is being haunted by the ghost of Emmett Till telling her that she doesn’t deserve to have her baby. You know? Emmett Till? The victim of one of the most brutal, horrific murders in America due to one of the most disgusting, vile acts of racism? THAT EMMETT TILL?!

So..! The black councilman is working for a white politician who... I’m just going to put a direct quote from the movie so you can get where they were coming from.

“That man wants to close down ten more voting locations, all of them in black districts!”

Anyway, after a house-call from a doctor who brushes off the dreams as hormones, the councilman hosts a party for the politician who’s running slogan is ‘Let’s take Mississippi back!’ Gee-golly-willickers! Can’t imagine where they were coming from with that one!!

So the party goes on, the politician even congratulating our councilman on his ‘white wife’, but said wife rushes downstairs after having another dream; ranting about ‘that boy from the field has decided to LIVE! And if he lives, our baby’s going to die!’ And she runs outside with a machete to try and kill the ghost of Emmett Till (who, again, very real person and victim of racist brutality). 

So the councilman’s mother and the local voodoo expert drive up and the voodoo expert tells the councilman that Emmett Till is trying to talk to him about the nature of sacrifice. The next day, the wife is talking about how her stomach is getting smaller, but the councilman doesn’t want to hear any of it and calls the doctor again. And, guys..?! If shit hadn’t jumped the rails before?! The train just starts doing cartwheels from here. 

The doctor is suspiciously short-tempered with the politician this time around and he does examine the wife to confirm that her stomach is indeed shrinking. However, when he’s told that the councilman is the father, he storms out and snaps “I don’t work for coloreds!” 

Then the wife runs out of bed and tells the doctor that the councilman isn’t her husband and that he kidnapped and raped her. So both the wife and the doctor drive off and the councilman realizes that the world has somehow gone back to the era of Jim Crow. 

... Oooh my gosh, typing this is making me want to commit toaster-bath but it gets so much worse..!

So, after the voodoo expert comes to chastise the councilman about not ‘respecting the sacrifices that have been gifted to you’, he is able to see the ghost of Emmett Till (who was a real person, why is this happening..?!) who is there to tell him that he’s decided that he wants to live. Which means that the world will never see the brutal images of his body at his funeral and that will cause a Butterfly Effect in history that will make it so that the Civil Rights Movement never happened. 

You may be questioning the logistics of this, but don’t worry! The ghosts of the girls killed in the 1963 16th Street Baptist Church Bombing in Birmingham come to explain and further berate the councilman about ‘respecting the sacrifices that have been gifted to him’ and working for a racist politician. 

But wait! There’s more! *whines* I keep crying out to God but he won’t answer...

They’re soon joined by the ghosts of the three Freedom Riders who were killed during the Mississippi Burning Murders, the ghost of Civil Rights Activist Medgar Evers, and DR. MARTIN LUTHER KING, JR. 

Not to mention several other unnamed figures who walk up while everyone else starts chanting about ‘respecting the sacrifices that have been gifted to you’, who look like Rosa Parks and Frederick Douglass, just to name a few. 

... I need a drink. I need a cold, stiff drink. ... Almost done. 

So, in comes the Klan. You know, the white-robed bastards; I hear they have an outreach center a few cities away from me. Sure, fine, whatever. The wife is leading them along with the white politician who hits the councilman’s mother in the face with a baton and Emmett Till stops time just as reinforcements show up to tell the councilman that, in order for everything to go back to normal, he has to join the ranks of those who sacrificed. 

“If what you want is worth us dying for, how come its not worth you dying for?!”

And, at first, the councilman disagrees; even being dragged away by Klansmen. However! It’s his wife angrily spitting in his face that makes him realize that this world isn’t the world he wants to live in. So he runs over to Emmett Till to tell him that he will join him... And then he’s beaten to death, becoming a sacrifice to get the world back to normal. And, once it is, his spirit joins Emmett Till’s and walks off into the great beyond. 

So! Not only did this schlocky, B-movie horror movie sequel decide to use a REAL LIFE VICTIM of racism-driven brutality as a story-device, but it also wants to put forth the message that the people who lost their lives during the Civil Rights Movement? Yeah, they HAD to die! Otherwise the Civil Rights Movement would never have happened~!

You see why I hate the sequel to Tales from the Hood so much? Not even mentioning the terrible framing segments of a racial-profiling robot being told these stories so it knows what ‘criminals’ to go after, but this movie is just a temple of ‘WHY?! WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS?!?!?!’

[darlinvandijk]

Smile Please

Concept: Might not be too like put together since I had so many ideas coming to my mind for this. Not a request but someone said imagine being in quarantine and not being able to see Ruel and missing him, then like having him sing to you so you can fall asleep. Well I decided to do that but also put a complete darlin twist on it.(She’s also in the industry too btw) Can you tell what this is the prequel to? I hope you enjoy :)

A sigh escapes my lips as I stare at my laptop screen, Netflix asking if I’m still watching for the 15th time today, like I’d be doing anything else. Every single day is a blur of Netflix, naps, FaceTime calls, and YouTube binging. Oh, and absolutely no human contact.

I roll over on to my stomach as I hear my phone buzz, praying that it’s someone trying to talk to me, rather than getting another meaningless social media notif. My heart skips a beat as I see my boyfriend texting me, nothing but excitement filling me as I see the word FaceTime. Only to be filled with dread as I think about how I look, having put in absolutely zero effort the last few days, because I mean who’s going to see me?

I toss my phone on to my bed, telling Ruel to give me a few minutes, before launching myself into my closet. I rip off my stained sweats and hoodie, before realizing I haven’t done any laundry in a week. I rip a pair of shorts out of the pile on my floor throwing them on, before grabbing my secret hoodie that I always keep hidden. The hoodie that Ruel has no clue about, because if he did, well he’d lose his mind. Desperate times call for desperate measures though.

“Hi baby, you’re looking beautiful as always” Ruel sweetly says, instantly answering my call as I lay back down on my bed, still keeping my body out of sight from him. Upon hearing his sweet words, I bring my hand up to cover my face, not wanting him to see the red hue taking over. He laughs at my actions before freezing, staring at me with a look I can’t quite figure out, the smile from his face completely gone. “Babe, what are you wearing right now?” he practically shrieks at me, his eyes now glaring at me with complete betrayal filling them. Betrayal that could have been avoided if I just answered shirtless.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about Rueloff, anyways, how’s your day going?” I question, my eyes looking anywhere but him. My question is met with silence, a haunting silence that causes chills to run down my spine. “That’s great to hear, you’ve had a fun day huh, well let me tell you about my day, so I took 5 naps today, I know right less than usual, I also watche-“ I immediately blurt out, seeing Ruel try to open his mouth to talk, his eyes now drilling holes into the visible hoodie.

“You told me you hadn’t seen that sweater since the Paris show! You stole my sweater and didn’t tell me for 7 months?” He cries out, waving his hands around the air in distress, thinking about the all the lies I spewed about his favorite hoodie. “You told me it must’ve been misplaced when we left the venue, because and I quote, you had seen it on the couch. You’re a thief. My own girlfriend is a snake” he whines, shoving his face into a pillow, grumbling more things about how I can never be trusted again.

“I asked you to let me wear it and you always told me no, I did what I needed to do. You know this is my favorite one” I mumble, playing with the sleeves that go past my hands. He gives me an incredulous look, wondering how I’m able to turn this against him so fast, not knowing I’ve been preparing for this since the day I shoved it into my underwear section of my bag. “I can give it back if you want, I just like it because it smells the most like you.” I whisper, looking into his eyes finally with a pout, knowing it’ll win him over. As soon as the pout forms, his eyes are instantly drawn to my lips, his eyes softening at the gesture.

“You’re such an asshole, trying to guilt me for wanting my favorite hoodie back, but fine. Keep it, I guess you look better in it than I ever did pretty girl” he groans, unable to keep the smile off of his face as he sees my body drowning in his hoodie. I lean against my headboard laughing, my phone set up on my night stand, completely oblivious to the beautiful boy watching me. Ruel sits there in awe, eyes wandering over every inch of me, his expression softening by the second. “You truly are stunning though sweetheart, so fucking stunning” he breathes out, gaze unwavering when I look at him, my heart stuttering as I take in the look he’s giving me.

“I miss you” I tell him, as I lay down and pull a blanket over my body, the heartache of not being able to see each other fully kicking in. He lets out a deep breath, feeling useless as he watches me wipe my eyes, knowing there’s nothing he can do to fix this. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to kill the mood. It’s just been hard without you lately, but I know we have to stay home for a good reason, it just sucks” I whimper, my voice cracking as I try to keep my tears at bay, feeling more emotion than usual because of how late it is.

“It’s okay, don’t apologize love. You didn’t say anything wrong, this social distancing thing does suck, but before we know it you’ll be back in my arms again yeah?” He questions, trying to lighten the mood, only ending up with a frown as he watches the tears finally fall down my face. He gives me a few moments to gather myself, watching as I grab some tissues, my ragged breathing the only sound filling the air. “Don’t cry bubba, please don’t cry. I miss you more than anything, you know that. You also know that it breaks my heart to see you cry, think you can give me a little smile please? Might die if you don’t ” He dramatically whines out, covering his face with his hands, putting on the biggest show possible. I don’t see it, but as soon as I laugh at my boyfriends dramtic performance, a smile spreads across his lips, pride filling him as he gets me to cheer up a little.

He lays down in the same position as me, both of us facing our phones as we look at one another, a comfortable silence settling over us. My eyes wander over his messy grown out hair, looking at his mustache that he takes so much pride in, and looking at the necklace hanging out of his hoodie. The necklace that holds the plain band version of my promise ring that he got me, saying that it was unfair if I was the only one that got to have “major drip”. As my eyes wander, I subconsciously start playing with the drawstring of my hoodie, not noticing the way his eyes instantly get drawn to my promise ring, love filling his heart as he watches the small diamond in the middle sparkle in the light.

“I can’t wait till I can change that ring to a real one” he muses, picturing the day he’ll get to switch out my ring with the one he already knows he’s going to get when the times right. My eyes widen at his confession, my heart speeding up as I hear the seriousness in his voice. “Even if it means having to wait until I can finally catch a break from all of this” he mumbles, getting caught up in his head, thinking about how nonstop his life seems to be, wondering if he’ll actually ever have the freedom to settle down. Or if it’ll make me runaway before he can even get the chance.

“One day bub, one day. I promise.” I smile at him, knowing my reassurance about what our future holds puts him at ease, his biggest fear that I’ll leave from not being able to handle what comes with being together. “I know you get worried that your career and you being gone a lot will make me not want this anymore, but I promise that won’t happen. No empty love or empty promises here, I’m not that shallow bub. Your career is important to you and me, I’ll never let it get in the way of us” I tell him, watching as he nods his head with a small frown. He starts to fiddle with the ring, sliding it around the chain before looking up at me with a curious look.

“Do you ever get worried? That this will become too much and the nonstop lifestyle of it will just do more harm than good. I can’t think of my future without you in it, but this is a lot to deal with” he questions, concern flashing through his eyes, my gaze catching on to the slight shake of anxiety in his hands. “Once this pandemic is up I’m gone again, more shows and interviews. I just don’t want it to hurt us, because you’re my priority. That’ll never change. I just don’t want you faking that it’s okay, when I know it bothers you” he rants, running a hand through his already messy locks, the stress of the future already taking over his mind.

“I promise we’ll be okay. Your career will never be too much for me, if you can put up with mine and my random traveling for shows and interviews, then I’ll support you and your career.” I reason with him, watching him nod his head, still not fully convinced with my answer. I softly call his name, making him look me in the eyes, seeing the absolutely confident look I give him. “You’re always going to be a priority, your career and mine can’t change that. I’ll never fake anything or tell you something that isn’t true” I state, watching his shoulders sag in relief, my words finally easing the anxiety he’s feeling. He takes a few moments to think before giving me a final nod, deciding that I convinced him enough that his career won’t scare me away.

“I know, I know. I just get worried, we’re both in an industry where everything is just so fake, you can’t ignore the fabrication.” he quietly says, both of us thinking about the things that truly happen behind the scenes, the things the fans don’t know about. “You’re right though, we’ll be fine. I love you and you love me, that’s all the matters. It’s all we need to make this work” he confirms, giving me a boyish grin. I let out a laugh at his smile, before a yawn takes over, making my eyes water as the fatigue of being up so late finally kicks in.

“I’m getting bubba, but I don’t want to hang up” I whine, as I cuddle further into his hoodie, pulling the blanket up to my chin. I watch him with droopy eyes, trying my hardest to stay awake with him, knowing he wouldn’t be going to bed anytime soon. “Can sing for me? I miss hearing you” I mumble, my words incoherently forming a thought that he understands, a quiet laugh escaping his mouth as he hears it.

“Go to sleep baby, I won’t hang up.” he promises, watching as I get more comfortable. Once I stop shifting around, he gets comfortable, and decides to sing the one song he knows always helps me sleep. “I will always love you how I do, Let go of a prayer for you, Just a sweet word, The table is prepared for you” he softly sings out, his voice over the speaker filling my room, slowly lulling me to sleep, my mind filled with nothing but thoughts of love and adoration for him.

I’m already asleep by the time he finishes, not seeing the way he watches me with a small smile, not being able to hear the last few thijge he utters before letting himself also drift off to sleep. Not knowing the weight his words would truly hold in the future.

“I love you sweetheart, nothing will ever get between us, I promise. Our love is deep enough, we can handle it.”

[wordofrecall]

character playlists: ori

so. let’s do this. my playlists are long and scattered, but they make me happy, so i might as well share them and the thoughts behind song choices. so. here’s some songs for runaway knights & wannabe witches, and what have you.

something holy - childhood & riches & wonders

pearl diver - mitski - oh hunter, if you didn’t want the beautiful so badly, perhaps you would’ve found it in your spirit singing softly - look. it's on the nose, considering that her title is "the pearl hunter," but also, like, that rules. this is a song for wren, i think; ori in the present reflecting on her mother and the similarities between them.

icicles - the scary jokes - i can only be forgiven if i’m giving myself up to you on a silver serving tray / must i bare myself to the stabbing of your knife & gnashing teeth while our lovely company appears so entertained? - aaand a song for childhood. 99% of ori's socialization came from her parents having important guests over, so. uh. yeah. show off your reclusive child prodigy like a pageant whenever you have the opportunity. she probably won't grow to loathe you.

life: the cruel interlude (on god) - kilo kish - why do i dare believe in me when i bleed? - questioning was. always a big thing for ori. i don't think she ever believed that the mirzha was god, and i known that she never truster her father's patron, but. in her studies, in her passions, there's always this tiny sense of desperation for something to have faith in something. not herself.

bluejays & cardinals - the mountain goats - the stars come out of hiding for you, & i would too - there is. a lot, in ori's relationship with her brother. she was the favorite child, yeah, the one destined for great things in spite of her... troubles. but he never had those troubles! she didn't, doesn't understand how he went through life so unafraid. there's envy there. i also think that the line i quoted is terribly true, like, canonically. because. she sure did do that stupid shit.

be calm - fun. - take it from me, i’ve been there a thousand times--you hate your pulse because it thinks you’re still alive! - sometimes you have intense social phobia. and that's okay!

country death song - violent femmes - kiss your mother goodnight & remember that God saves, kiss your mother goodnight & remember that God saves - i think andrei is a much less pitiable or even sympathetic man than the narrator of this song, but. like. it's a country song about a father killing his daughter while preaching godliness. i had to.

i’m all bloody inside - liam lynch - inside me, well, it’s dark & gross as hell, i’m not a pretty sight - the family business!

the hazards of love 3 (revenge!) - the decemberists - but father, don’t you fear, your children are all here - fantasies. part of the fantasy is imagining a world where she doesn't feel terrible about the thought.

shankill butchers - sarah jarosz - they used to be just like me & you, they used to be sweet little boys - "blood hunters are ghost stories." "and also, they're fucking terrible. violent, cruel, zealous. the worst."

sparrow - st. vincent - & no eyes are on the sparrow, eyes are on the sparrow, how could that be the case? the lark keeps whistling his number, silly little number, as if he isn't prey - pity for the boy. sort of retrospective, but it's a thought that's been there since she was a child.

something burning - rituals & fire & running

starchild - ghost quartet - but i will transcend & vomit this loser out of me; i will become the next big thing, i will light myself on fire - maybe she is some kind of angel? bursting with radiance and terrifying to look upon.

arsonist’s lullabye - hozier - don’t you ever tame your demons, always keep them on a leash / when i was sixteen, my senses fooled me - oooor maybe she is a sixteen year-old who is having a panic attack and setting everything in sight on fire by accident.

blood - my chemical romance - i’m the kind of human wreckage that you love! - so she's broken.

girl anachronism - the dresden dolls - it’s not the way i’m meant to be, it’s just the way the operation made me - so she's failed and she's broken and she's sick, and there's no time to fucking think.

when the chips are down - anais mitchell - cast your eyes to heaven, you’ll get a knife in the back. - so she does what her mother did before her, and she runs from that which she has always known.

body terror song - ajj - i’m so sorry that you have to have a body / one that will hurt you, & be the subject of so much of your fear - feelings on being built Wrong; feelings on your mind's undue control upon your body.

in corolla - the mountain goats - & no one was gonna come & get me, there wasn't anybody gonna know, even though i leave a trail of burnt things in my wake every single place i go - very good as an ori song in general but this is her justification to herself in the water. under the docks, she says this to herself.

the harrowed & the haunted - the decemberists - will i be so brave? - just to get that oceanic vibe up.

luna - the mountain goats - rise through the flames & end again in flames at last - an inexplicable feeling.

unwhere - reeder - a song for leaving what you've always known.

something lonely - years & woods & dreaming

runs in the family - amanda palmer - run from their pity, from responsibility, run from the country & run from the city, i can run from the law, i can run from myself, i can run for my life, i can run into debt, i can run from it all, i can run 'till I'm gone - she is broken and all she can think to do is get as far away as possible

panic attack - liza anne - i hate that i can be seen like this

black eyes - david wirsig - my hammering heart hears the voices of spirits that tempt us, the scorn that they’ve spoken

for the departed - shayfer james - they will bury me alive, but i’m not inclined to care; i am too far gone now

hurt - johnny cash - everyone i know goes away in the end; you can have it all, my empire of dirt

my body’s made of crushed little stars - mitski - i work better under a deadline! i work better under a deadline!

blood in the cut - k. flay - guess i’m contagious; it’d be safest if you ran--fuck, that’s what they all just end up doing in the end

little pistol - mother mother - i think i might be scared of the world & the way it makes you feel afraid & how it gets in the way

villains pt. 1 - emma blackery - built to create, designed to destroy

the beer - kimya dawson - & the christians gave me comic books as if i would be scared of burning in hell while i was already there [...] i tried to scream fuck you but blood was pouring out my mouth

something safe - family & finding it & fighting together

haunted house - sir babygirl - i’m running just to hide & i’m hiding just to breathe & around every corner is the same night on repeat

your heart is a muscle the size of your fist - ramshackle glory - i love you & you make me glad to be alive; i promise that i’m gonna pay you back / you always know how funny everything is, even when i’m so serious that it’s gonna be the death of me

medicines - the taxpayers - o, but our rotting corpses lying there soon began to leak & grow these lesions that all smelled just like a rose / & all the blood & guts inside us germinated into timeless pages stained with lines of lovely prose

autoclave - the mountain goats - i am this great unstable mass of blood & foam

alligator skin boots - mccafferty - i’m cool to the touch, leap to my death, i’ll die for you all, i’ll die for my friends, it goes like this

100 years - florence + the machine - lord, don’t let me break this, let me hold it lightly, give me arms to pray with instead of ones that hold too tightly

tomorrow will be kinder - the secret sisters - but i feel warmth on my skin, the stars have all aligned

armour - rae spoon - you know i placed was to build a life for you

amy aka spent gladiator 1 - the mountain goats - play with matches if you think you need to play with matches; seek out the hidden places where the fire burns hot & bright / find where the heat’s unbearable & stay there if you have to--don’t hurt anybody on your way up to the light, and stay alive

curses - the crane wives - won’t you stay with me, my darling, when my walls start burning down?

something daring - islands & visions & loss

jane’s dream - janelle monáe

beekeeper - keaton henson - hear me, o woman that has gone astray, gone astray

fire - kimya dawson - i’m reading books about how they’re corrupt [...] as long as i’m burning, i’ll keep on yearning to save the world, not sure how, but i’m learning

cosmic hero - car seat headrest - i love you, but i can’t stand the touch, & of course i’m alright with death

turn the lights off - tally hall - everbody likes to get taken for turns to see how bright the fire inside of us burns [...] should be stronger, books abandoned

eat you alive - the oh hellos - child, i’m afraid for your soul; these things that you’re after, they can’t be controlled

cry for judas - the mountain goats - hallucinate a shady grove where judas went to die

o death - monica martin - no wealth, no land, no silver, no gold, nothing satisfies me but your soul

blood of angels - brown bird - and i would wage my soul to bet that there ain’t no one throwing lightning anyhow

the universe is going to catch you - the antlers - the arms of the universe kept you from falling [...] those arms did not come back

a burning hill - mitski - i am the fire & i am the forest & i am the witness watching it / i stand in the valley watching it

something terrifying - conversations & selfhood & divination

the lamb - dessa - but blood is blood, & what’s done is done; blood is blood, & its burden is a beast

going invisible 2 - the mountain goats - i’m gonna burn it all down today & sweep all the ashes away

the lion’s roar - first aid kit - she plays a tune for those who wish to overlook the fact that they’ve been blindly deceived by those who preach & pray & teach, but she falls short & the night explodes in laughter

the villain i appear to be - connor spiotto - even if you can’t see the good inside me, i don’t have the time to tell you why i do the things that i do, just please hold on & soon you’ll seem

up the wolves - the mountain goats - there’s bound to be a ghost at the back of closet, no matter where you live; there’ll be a few things, maybe several things that you’re gonna find really difficult to forgive

thursday girl - mitski - glory, glory, glory to the night that shows me what i am

at the bottom of everything - bright eyes - we must take all of the medicines to expensive now to sel; set fire to the preacher who is promising us hell

everybody does - julien baker - i know i’m a pile of filthy wreckage you will wish you’d never touched, but you’re gonna run when you find out who i am

tongues & teeth - the crane wives - i know that you mean so well, but i am not a vessel for your good intent 

a pearl - mitski - you’re growing tired of me and all the things i don’t talk about / sorry, i don’t want your touch--it’s not that i don’t want you

[krisseycrystal]

rated: t

fandom: Gravity Falls

prompt: “Locked in a Freezer” + Stan & Dipper (& Ford)

requested by: @trashgoblinonyourporch

SO MY AMAZING FRIEND PAX SENT ME AN EXCELLENT CHALLENGE because i have never written a Gravity Falls fic before, w/ my choice of Stan, Dipper, or Ford locked in a freezer and I like to challenge hurt myself even further so i picked Stan & Dipper and had Ford cameo at the end

it’s a Time

hope you enjoy! if you want more angst, feel free to request something! i still have four prompts available on this bad boi alsdkjflkjsf

- o - o - o -

Gelid [Read on AO3]

- o - o - o -

“HEY!”

Maybe the first thing Stan should have felt when the thick door swung shut at their backs was panic. Maybe stupidity--he knew that ugly bastard with the toothpick between his teeth was lyin’ when he denied that there were ghosts in his quote-unquote “historic” bar; he knew it--but instead, all Stan can feel is a ravaging, crater-deep guilt. 

“Grunkle Stan?”

It was his idea to invite the twins along on this summer trip to the East Coast. It was him who first said, hey, whaddya know, we’re passin’ through their part’a town, Ford. Whaddya say? Let’s pick up the kiddos, have ‘em stuff their duffels in the back and let ‘em tag along on our haunted haunts tour ‘long the New England coast. They’re probably all goofs, anyway. What’s the harm?

This bar.

With its fucking deep-ass freezer.

That’s the harm.

After frantically pulling on the long handlebar once, twice, then heaving as hard as he could and throwing his shoulder into the door, Stan finally steps back and wraps his arms around himself. His faux-gold rings with their cubic zirconia catches on the cloth of his sleeves as he vigorously rubs his forearms. “Kid, do you wear anything else other than those dumb shorts and tee-shirt?”

Dipper’s already mimicking him, smart kid, but his teeth are chattering. Not a good sign. “It’s not like I have access to my bag right now to change! If I’d known some ghost was gonna lock us in a freezer, then I’d have worn something a little warmer!”

Stan rolls his eyes. “Got that fancy new cell of yours, don’tcha? Just call your sister!”

Dipper’s eyes light up. Had he forgotten he had it? Go figure. Shermi’s daughter had been so hesitant to give the twins cells, but after they turned thirteen, well…he’s sure Dipper and Mabel worked their own case pretty hard. It certainly paid off. It’s going to pay off.

It has to.

It only takes a few seconds tapping on the screen with shaking fingers to make Dipper’s face fall. “No service.”

“What? Let me see that.”

Dipper doesn’t fight when Stan swipes the dinky device out of his hand. But he does watch, unimpressed, tiny hands rubbing his arms, as Stan pretends to recognize what the hell it is he’s looking at on the screen. Fuckin’ tiny-ass white blobs. What do those things mean? Is that a percentage? Is 35 good or bad?

He tosses it back, grumbling. They need to get out. Fast. What’s the first thing to get frostbitten? How long does that take?

“Look, kid,” Stan huffs, his breath a white cloud glittering in the dark. “I’m putting you on cell duty. Your job is to think of a way to tell the others we’re down here so they can come rescue our asses.”

Are Dipper’s cheeks pinkening because of the cold, or because Stan cursed in front of him? Hard to tell. “Right.” 

Dipper bows his head over his phone, the bill of his blue pine-tree hat obscuring his face. His thumbs tap madly away; how the hell does he do that so fast? Then he turns, tremblingly striding the length of the walk-in freezer back and forth. At each corner, Dipper stops, raising his cell high above his head with a tight grimace. He stretches onto his tip-toes, waves the device right and left, and with a look of consternation, begins the process over again in a different corner. 

Stan watches his hands for a second more before it clicks.

“Dipper, take off your socks.”

“My what?” 

“Your socks.” Stan hurriedly bends over to do the same, peeling off his holey socks from his shoes before shoving his feet back inside. “Put them on your hands. Your dumb fingers are gonna get frostbit before anythin’ else and that ain’t gonna take more than two minutes.”

“B-but, Grunkle Stan, you just told me to I gotta use--”

“--do you want to lose your digits or not, kid?”

Is it a mercy or a worry that Dipper doesn’t fight him on this?

With his mouth set in a thin line, Dipper hands off his phone to Stan and squats to untie his shoes. Every passing second, the kid’s teeth chatter harder and harder; his fingers shake so much, he fumbles with the strings, pinching them and dropping them over and over again. He tugs and tugs to undo the shoelace, but it doesn’t budge. “G-Grunkle Stan, I can’t--I--”

There’s a terrible, terrible break in the kid’s already squeaky-ass voice.

Like an echo, a ricochet, something else breaks and cracks in the center of Stan’s chest.

He shoots forward, falling to his knee before he thinks better of it. His weary bones scream in protest, but not as badly as his skin does. It only takes seconds for the wet chill of the freezer floor to seep through his pants. He shoves Dipper’s phone in his pocket and doesn’t see the way the screen lights up as he does.

“It’s okay. I’ve got ya, kid,” he mutters and yanks the Converse laces loose himself. 

When Dipper’s hands are covered with twin stinky, middle-school white ankle-socks, Stan breathes a sigh of relief. Standing, he finds, is much worse on his creaky body immediately after kneeling.

“Remind me not to Cinderella you again, kid,” Stan groans, placing a sock-mittened hand in the center of his back.

Dipper chuckles, but it’s weak. The kid’s eyes shine a little too brightly in the dark, unshed tears making his eyelashes sparkle with frost. “Y-yeah. That was…awkward.” He clears his throat and holds out his socked hand expectantly, still shivering uncontrollably.

“Hm? What? Oh.” Stan fishes the kid’s phone back out.

Dipper’s face lights up at the same time as his screen does. “Grunkle Stan! Grunkle Stan we did it! We got a message through!”

“What?”

Dipper hurries over, pressing close to his side, and shoving his phone in his face as if he’s supposed to be able to read the tiny black font printed inside those grey boxes. 24%. There’s a funny, probably candid, photo of Mabel beside each one. Her cheek is pressed up against a wooden table with her tongue hanging out of her mouth, her face the utter look of someone who has eaten far too much cake and has icing all around her mouth to prove it. Does she even know Dipper took that picture? Who cares; it’s priceless.

“What am I supposed to be lookin’ at?”

“What Mabel said! She and Ford are on their way! They’ll be here in fifteen minutes!”

Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes.

“Kid, you tell her to tell my brother to step on it. We could be popsicles in fifteen minutes!”

“Y-yeah, but--”

“--and then as soon as you're done, come over here.” Stan didn’t want to have to do this, but it looks like he has little choice. He turns around, hunting for loose, broken-down cardboard boxes or crates and finds a stash of them pinned between a steel shelf and the wall. Hell yeah. “If we’re gonna last ‘till then, then we gotta hunker. No if’s, and’s, or but’s about it.”

“H-hunker?”

Stan throws several sheets of unfolded cardboard on the floor and covers the floor as much as he can.

“Hunker,” he confirms. 

- o - o - o -

The first five minutes aren’t horrible. Dipper is reluctant to huddle close and wants to stand and move around instead of sit down on a makeshift mat of cardboard. The kid admirably performs a few back-and-forth laps of high-knees and jumping-jacks before exhaustion kicks in and his body shivers too hard to do a single rep more.

Stan doesn’t even need to say anything. He holds out an arm and Dipper comes stumbling over back to him, shaking so hard, skin wane and pale, he might be as blue as his hat.

The second five minutes are spent clutching at each other, shivering tightly in a teeth-chattering huddle. In the end, Stan burrito-wraps his jacket around Dipper and pulls him over to curl against the pudge of his front. His socked hands run up and down, up and down the kid’s back as quickly as they can.

At the end of the third five minutes, Dipper begins to cry and Stan knows it’s because some part of him--his nose, probably--has frostbite setting in because it’s settling in on his nose and ears at the same time.

“Shit.”

“I-it--” It’s damn near pathetic the way the kid can barely talk. “--i-it h-h-hurts, G-Grunkle S--”

“--y-yeah. I know; I know…” 

Dipper’s breath is thin and quick under the tightness of his tears. He gasps for air, breath puffing up over and over again against his face. It’s pathetic. The way his thin shoulders are pulled up to his frozen ears; the way he can feel the tremors wrecking the kid in the middle of his hold. This entire damn thing is pathetic.

…and so is he, he thinks.

“I-I’m sorry,” Dipper stutters, voice so small. “I-I shouldn’t have--w-we s-shouldn’t have c-come here--I w-was stupid to th-think that--”

“Nope. None of that,” Stan clutches the kid tighter. “Shut up. Now.”

Dipper’s socked hands dig into the thin fabric of his button-up. Whether or not Stan actually meant to bring him to silence, that faltering apology is the last thing Dipper tries to say.

Twenty minutes pass.

- o - o - o -

Ford’s voice, when Stan finally hears it or thinks he hears it, is distant, like a dream. It washes over Stan with all the cotton-balled effect of damaged stereo speakers. Or maybe that’s just his hearing aids going out.

There are mittened hands on his shoulders, separate from the ones trying to pry away the huddle locked against his chest. As soon as the loss of a kid finally registers in his dumb, befuddled head, he writhes and fights. He rears up a socked fist to throw it--but it’s easily caught in a broad, six-fingered hand.

“Stanley. Stanley. It’s me. It’s okay.”

It takes monumental effort to crack open his eyelids and peer up. Something chilled and grainy falls down his cheeks. “Poindexter?”

“Stanley,” and the relief is so great and thick that any bitter anger Stan had in his chest at their belated rescue fizzles. “Oh, I’m so sorry. The ghost was…trying, to say the least. Mabel and I had to exorcise it before we could even get down to the basement. It…the entire process took much longer than it should have. And that never should have…I’m…” 

Dipper is pulled away from him and this time, he doesn’t resist. He can see the cool blue-black of police uniforms and the yellow jacket of paramedics.

“We tried to call you, but I suppose Dipper’s phone must have died. It went straight to voicemail.”

“Can it with the s-stupid apologies, will ya?” Stan sighs and his body shakes hard before stilling. “T-tired of it. Shit h-happened. W-we got locked in a f-f-f-fucking freezer. Just…get us the fuck out of here before I th-think about h-how I might sink s-some cruise ships.” 

Ford’s smile is rueful and exasperated. He looks over his shoulder at the paramedics that approach with a thick blanket in hand.

“I’ll make sure to keep you away from oceans, for a while, then.”

“W-water and ic-c-c-e in general. Th-thanks.”

“Noted.” Then the humor slips away and something else, something soft, gentles Ford’s face. It’s disgusting. Just like the blanket the paramedics wrap around Stan’s shoulders. “You’re going to be all right, Stan.”

“Yeah…” Stan’s eyes slip left, looking at the freezer’s now-open doorway.

“Dipper, too.”

Stan sniffs. When the paramedics pull Ford back to reach out and take his arms, he nods at his brother in wordless thanks. 

[judas-had-a-crown]

writer tag thingy

I’ve been miracously tagged by @wearemykingdom like eons ago, so let’s do this :P 1) is there a story you’re holding off on writing for some reason?

Yes. More than one actually, but at the moment it’s my. Fucking. Goddamn. HUGE-ASS. Mount Olympus / Roman Empire Batman / Crossover Gotham x Arkham Games AU.

It has become so complex lately that I just can’t find the will to continue structuring the plot at the moment.

2) what work of yours, if any, are you the most embarrassed about existing?

You really think I’d give you the means to search for it eh. But well, when we’re talking about English works (I have written more stories in my first language of course, so the ones in English are rather limited) it’s probably one of my earliest Hannigram fics. The theme is horrid because ao3 was so new to me back then including all the porn there and I was like “Hey, I can do this too! I want so many views as well!”

So I wrote a smut OS. And I despise it to this very day.

I’m not averse to smut in the least, but I didn’t like it mostly because it lacked a good plot, it lacked any kind of finesse, and, frankly, it also lacked dignity for both the characters. I also hate this OS in particular since I wrote it merely for the sake of gaining attention, I guess. I was a tag-along. You see, I don’t write smut too often, but when I do, I can’t help but try putting in a story which at least compliments the kinks.

Which reminds me, I should probably delete said shameful OS… but it is on my old account. Shit, need to search for the password.

3) what order do you write in? front of 📓 to back? chronological? favorite scenes first? something else?

Fucking mess. Usually, my ideas start with that one goddamn scene in my head and I scribble it down in mere desperation whereever I can. Then I search for a good song accompanying the general mood of the story and somehow work up to this very scene if I can get my ass in gear. So, I usually start at the beginning.

4) favorite character you’ve written

Hannibal Lecter and Will Graham. They have wonderfully complex psyches to play with.

5) character you were most surprised to end up writing to write?

Daryl Dixon and Rick Grimes - I don’t know anything about The Walking Dead, never watched one darn episode. It was a gift for a friend back then.

6) something you would go back and change in your writing that it’s too late/complicated to change now

I was much on the sappy and dramatic / sentimental side of prose for what seems like ages. I would stretch dialogue and thus doom it to become artificial in the long run. Purple prose is no bad thing, but I certainly overdid it more than once. Which is why I’m currently trying to keep my writing as true as possible.

I still love fancy words, but I need to find my own voice between the lines. And I need to finally figure out for whom I write in particular aka who I believe worth of being called ’my muse’… I already know the name of said creature, but I simply can’t decide about their appearance. Suprisingly, Persona 5 has given me great concepts to work with concerning this. I hope I’ll figure it out in time.

7) when asked, are you embarrassed or enthusiastic to tell people that you write?

I do not like to tell people I write if they don’t write themselves. I’ve been having bad experiences otherwise, including family members as well as friends and strangers. Mostly, I have been ridiculed, laughed at or looked over with a furrowed brow.

The only time my writing was kind of acknowledged back in my youth when I would read essays and short stories we would sometimes be tasked with in school. My classmates were glad when I read my stuff, but let me just say… they were happier they didn’t have to read their stuff instead than anything else. 

8) favorite genre to write

Is “Give me thee pure and I’ll make thee cry and die” a genre ?

To be honest, I’m not sure which genre I usually write in. I think it’s tragedy / drama.

9) what, if anything, do you do for inspiration?

Listening to music is one go, watching amvs, Let’s Plays of Horror Games and movies plus reading books are the others. I also cry.

10) write in silence or with background noise? with people or alone?

@wearemykingdom I’m mostly with you on this one holy shit.

to quote her wise words : SILENCE. FUCKING SILENCE. I LOVE SILENCE. AND ALONE.

Alone indeed, I’m a sucker for solitude -> Solitaire - Marina & The Diamonds

The problem is, I have a problem concerning silence - it’s never enough silence. I have grown used to write on my laptop with in-ear headphones on the ready, but even the sound of the keys or my own breathing would disturb me. Since then I have tried to find in-ear headphones (I can’t wear on-ear headphones due to reasons I won’t explain further) which isolate me from literally anything but fuck, it’s hard to find them, not to mention how much some of them cost. I’m also no friend of bluetooth which makes it all the more difficult to find anything usable. *sigh* Currently - to drown out all the noise of the outside world - I try listening to classical music. Especially violines are soothing for me.

11) what aspect of your writing do you think has most improved since you started writing?

I have literally no ass clue.

12) your weaknesses as an author

I’m always busy with plotting things out, imagining scenes and stuff, but I’m often strangely scared of really WRITING IT DOWN. Also I often get bored in the middle of a story and tend to discard it. Also I have been doubting myself quite much lately which is annoying.

13) your strengths as an author

I have literally no ass clue. My writing style has changed dramatically since last year - it will take a while till it gains some consistency again.

14) do you make playlists for your current wips?

“I spend more time on making playlists than writing on my current wips these days” I declare in shame, with four youtube tabs open.

15) why did you start writing?

To find my voice. Also to finally shut down the other voices and people occupying my head.

16) are there any characters who haunt you?

My OCs who want to kick my ass for me outlining their stories - but little old me is still too afraid to write them down.

Oh, also Joker and Batman aka Batjokes. I run into so many new kinds of story takes on their relationship these days and each has its special charm, this isn’t funny anymore.

17) if you could give your fledgling author self any advice, what would it be?

Me: OH MY GOD STOP MAKING THEM TALK SO MUCH ADD SOME DESCRIPTION INSTEAD YOU DUMB POPTART

fledgling author self : *opens up another conversation about death and undying love with a crazed glint in her eyes*

Me:

18) were there any works you read that affected you so much that it influenced your writing style? what were they?

Perfume - The Story of a Murderer by Patrick Süskind. The descriptions are various and exquisite.

Duma Key, Lisey’s Story and many other novels of Stephen King. You, good Sir, ruined me and my standards concerning horror fiction.

The Book Thief by Markus Zusak. A special book with Death lending his perspective and word.

The Bartimaeus Sequence by Jonathan Stroud - So funny it made me laugh out more than once. Close to my heart.

19) when it comes to more complicated narratives, how do you keep track of outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.?

Miley: outlines, characters, development, timeline, ect.

John Travolta: Me

20) do you write in long sit-down sessions or in little spurts?

I used to write in long sit-down sessions but currently I’m having a hard with them. I’m happy with little spurts.

21) what do you think when you read over your older work?

22) are there any subjects that make you uncomfortable to write?

Not yet. Which reminds me, I should probably expand my field of writing themes.

23) any obscure life experiences that you feel have helped your writing?

Besides always feeling like I don’t belong to anything or anybody like some weird E.T. shtick? Dunno.

24) have you ever become an expert on something you previously knew nothing about, in order to better a scene or a story?

I have never known so much about homosexuality and ransoming people sold into slavery in the times of the Roman empire than I do now. So yes, more than once. I want every detail as accurate as possible.

25) copy/paste a few sentences or a short paragraph that you’re particularly proud of

This isn’t short, because I am proud of this whole scene. Enjoy. ->

The fire is bright and hot and all-consuming as it licks across the doorframe and drags itself into the room with sharpened, yellow claws.

He might be blind, but the cackle of burning wood crawling closer to his position is a guess as sure as a man can get. He leans against the wall, fists numb, mind dazed by pain, flickers challenging the red-rimmed shadows behind his eyelids to join the dance. Why is he in pain again? He doesn’t know. The muscles in his legs are jelly, the flesh of his arms clad in stone. It feels more like his natural state to dwell in than anything else he has come in contact with in STEM yet which is impressive to realize if you think about it. But this isn’t STEM, is it? No. The fire came before they plugged him into this machine manufactured in hell. He tries to breathe in but can’t, not really, no matter how hard he tries; someone must have poured ice into his lungs. And why doesn’t this surprise him either? Everything seems to go the way it’s supposed to be.

He looks ahead and sees nothing but wary shapes taking form.

There stands Lily. And Lily screams, tears streaming down her cheeks like liquid glass. The fire catches her from behind and presses its lambent teeth into her hair, immediately going up in flames. Her skin bursts open und reveals tender muscle cords and bones which will never have the chance of growing out. They turn from white to pale yellow, from yellow to ocher, from ocher to a shade close to carbon black. He watches teary-eyed till her screams ring in his ears to the rhythm of his blaring heartbeat. What he called his daughter turns into a pile of ash and he could never put in words how much he despises himself for feeling relieved - if only for a moment, lost and uncared for - when the screaming dies down with her and fades into whimpers that are easily drowned out by the fire’s roar of triumph following behind.

When it turns its ugly orange head at him, jaw-grinding and repellently jubilant, he is as ready as one can be while they catch a beast’s eye. It teeters into his direction like a drunk whore that had their fill but are too far gone to realize it’s already over. He neither welcomes the plague nor shoos it away. And when it’s so close that its claws reach out to scratch the stubble on his chin, he couldn’t care less.

Being bathed in flames hurts less than he expected and more than his nightmares have ever dared to introduce him to. Heat engulfes him, the pain of thousand ant bites impaling his skin and rip through muscles and sinews. Thank fuck Lily had suffocated before she could feel this way… but no, she hadn’t, had she? Mobius took her. The charred corpse they found, the size of a child; four tiny fingers barely intact, the others scrunched to nothing. Myra and he had buried a forgery. Then she left and had made him live a forgery himself.

He only recognizes in passing that the ash started crawling up the floor and drapes over his sizzling bones. One could have called it a last act of consolation. A mercy he doesn’t deserve. The moulding ember is balm to his raw-burnt limbs, hovering over him, weaving a blanket of dead life upon his shoulders and his heaving back. He doesn’t struggle, nor does he think about getting up. He sits and pants and allows the dark remains of wood and flesh and cotton candy to encloak his body like a banshee offering her grave-cold kiss. The room has turned into furnace by now, the smell of his cooking flesh stuck in his nostrils. There is no end, no beginning, no remorse to deal with; only a hunger he is meant to satisfy but can’t. He just can’t do anything right, can he? The fire does not mind his inability. The fire is hungry, and Sebastian is easy prey.

Darkness, sweet as nectar, drinks him in. He lets it. Yet again I will torture tag @universallylightcherryblossom - (I’m sorry honey, but I don’t know too many writers here). Whoever reads this and wants to do it is more than welcome to feel tagged.

[childoftimeandmagic]

Shanghaied to New Orleans

Not super late today, but still later than I thought I would get this uploaded. So here is my contribution for Klaroline AU Week, Day 6 Canon-ish AU. This is a post-canon reunion between our favorite Blonde vampire and a surly grumpy Hybrid. 

Running a school was work, Caroline was proud of her school and in the haven, she’d turned it into.  Running it for 400 years without the semblance of a vacation or taking a break though was starting to take its toll. Sighing she ran a hand through her hair and leaned back in her chaise. The school had been her shelter more than for her students. Lizzie had said that in their last face-time when she was surprised that her youngest was getting married to her girlfriend of 150 years.

It was too soon, Caroline groaned and rubbed a hand over her eyes before remembering she’d done her make up this morning. The day was going great she could tell. With Josie was off saving the world one problem at a time, and Hope had finally returned to her family after 198 years in hiding. The school was full of laughter and love, but it was becoming slightly claustrophobic. She groaned and threw her phone across the room onto her other couch wincing when it went through the couch.

               “Love, I’m home!” the familiar voice of Enzo slamming the door of her study brought her kind of out of her funk and she offered a slight smile.

               “Hey Enzo, how was Italy with your lovely new bride?” Enzo had just married Rebekah which still weirded Caroline out since she had never seen it coming, but oddly it worked out really well. Enzo took everything Rebekah threw at him in stride, and Caroline had a feeling that was her fault.

               “His lovely bride is still here, and she brought you back some wine,” Rebekah said coming in behind Enzo two bottles of wine in her hands, each one of Caroline’s favorite vintages. Caroline stood up and laughed walking over to hug her favorite Mikaelson.

               “I’m so sorry I couldn’t get out to the wedding, but there was so much here that I had to take care of and I just couldn’t-” Rebekah held up her hand shaking her head.

               “You’re a coward and homebody. You didn’t leave the school for my wedding making me ask that tramp Hailey to be my maid of honor which forced me to change my color scheme. All because you couldn’t fucking, handle dealing with my brother for three fucking days,” Rebekah said her eyes darkening before she shook her head.

               “I’m so sorry Bekah, if I had known that it was such a hassle I-” Caroline shook her head and groaned. “God, you are so right. How did badass Caroline Forbes become such a fucking coward?”

               Caroline dropped onto her chaise and groaned again. Looking at Rebekah who was currently uncorking a bottle of wine, while Enzo grabbed three glasses from the other room. Rebekah had gone through a similar phase back in the early 2000s, but it had quickly gotten much better.

               “Not enough good hard sex?” Enzo chirped as he ducked from his wife’s aim with the cork.

               “While tactless my husband and your best friend has a point. You can’t face with what happened when you ran into him at Hopes graduation,” Rebekah said shrugging as she handed Caroline a glass of wine.

               “Well yea, I tried to congratulate him on Hopes accomplishments, and he offered me a ticket for Paris,” Caroline huffed thinking of that moment her eyes glazing slightly. Rebekah laughed at her and Enzo just shook his head.

               “I mean if that doesn’t say you’re still on my to do list, I’m not sure what will,” Rebekah said laughing as she took another sip of her wine.

               “Rebekah!” Caroline’s face started to flush her eyes wide as she broke into giggles of her own before drinking some of her wine.

               “So, what is my punishment for not coming to the wedding? Come on out with it, I know you Mr and Mrs. Mikaelson, spill the beans,” Caroline said her eyes narrowing on her two best friends. They’d never been able to help themselves when one of the three of them pissed the others off.  Enzo looked uncomfortable, while the love of his life just looked absolutely pleased with herself.

               “You are going to New Orleans tomorrow and you’re not coming back till you and my dolt of a brother have had- To quote you “hot hybrid sex” enough that the awkwardness is gone.” Rebekah said her smile making her look very much like the ‘cat that got the canary’. Caroline felt her face grow cold and she stared openmouthed at her two best friends.

               “Does he know I’m coming? Do I at least get to pick out my itinerary and when I see him?” she asked slowly trying to figure out what this actually was going to entail.

               “I mean you’re leaving tomorrow if I have to break your neck to get you there, from there what you do is up to you. Except you do have to see him,” Rebekah amended blowing Caroline a kiss after Caroline checked her watch before swearing. “Bekah! How in hell am I supposed to get ready for a vacation tomorrow when I don’t know about it before hand.” She glared at her best friend anger mounting, it was just the fact that Rebekah could kill her without breaking a nail before Caroline tried to do anything even at 480 years-old.

               “Because, I already packed for you. Before you panic about the school Enzo and I have that covered, Freya is going to handle the courses with me and Enzo as headmaster and dean of students,” she said looking kind of smug especially with the way that Caroline seemed to be caving in on herself.

               “Bekah I swear to all that you hold dear but most importantly your husband, I will destroy every last designer pump if Klaus doesn’t immediately ask me to dance,” she said after a few deep breaths and resigning herself to the cruel position of her life at the moment. “Josie, Lizzie and Hope all helped you plan this didn’t they?” She asked suddenly the conversation she’d had with Lizzie the night before coming back in waves.

               Enzo just grinned and waved his hand in a shooing motion as though her presence was bothering him. Caroline narrowed her eyes as an earlier comment from about two hundred years came back to haunt her. “Enzo if you so much as make out on that couch, I will bind you to a rock like Prometheus curse and all.”

               With that last comment hanging in the air Caroline stood and taking the two bottles of wine with her she left for her bedroom in the dormitory part of campus. She had to at least add somethings that were purely fun into her suitcase which was sitting right by the door just like Rebekah had promised, the fucker.

               Caroline hated flying and she hated that she couldn’t drive to New Orleans though she didn’t blame Rebekah not trusting her to get there if she’d actually driven. As she stared out the window of the plane as it touched down at the New Orleans private air field. When she stepped from the plane feeling slightly more in control once her feet were on the Earth she grinned as Freya walked toward her.

               “Hello Freya, have fun teaching the students this week, I appreciate it,” she said hugging her friend who had grown on her just as quickly as Rebekah had.

               “Thanks Caroline I can’t thank you enough for the break from New Orleans, there’s a new baddy in town and Klaus is going crazy,” she said her eyes rolling as she returned Caroline’s hug.

               “Seriously I’m gonna kick his ass,” Care said pulling away and grinning when Freya laughed at her comment.

               “The baddy or Nik?” Freya fired back and Caroline raised her eyebrow.

               “I fail to see why I can’t do both,” Caroline said shrugging as she handed her luggage to the hybrid waiting by the SUV that Freya had just exited.

               “I wish I could stick around to see it,” Freya said as she moved away towards the plane.

               Caroline shook her head as Freya and she went their separate ways, she had to admit that the Mikaelson sisters were a fucking riot and not women to cross or underestimate. The ride to downtown New Orleans was pleasant and as the sun started to set on the French Quarter the hybrid slowed for the crowds.

               “Miss, Mr. Mikaelson won’t be home so I can drop you off here if you’d like. Mr. Mikaelson should be in the Gypsum pub three blocks down,” he said looking at little apologetic about the change in plans.

               “That sounds fine, and please call me Caroline. It’s lovely to meet you,” she said smiling at the driver as she pulled her purse over her shoulder. “Could you just put that suitcase in his room? I think that would be the best bet.”

               “Um his room?” he said looking rather nervous at the thought of entering Klaus’ personal space.

               “I promise that if I’ve overstepped I’ll blame Freya,” she winked, and the young hybrid started to relax.

               Caroline bid him farewell and slipped from the parked SUV and into the crowds of tourists and supernatural inhabitants of the Quarter. Some witches glared and crossed the street. Caroline took a deep breath and felt the thrum and hub of the crowd flood over her. She shifted her face up towards the sky as a cloud above broke and the storm she’d seen on the weather app finally hit.

               Feeling the rain soak her light shirt and her skirt she didn’t pause in her slow saunter through the community. When the world passed around her she focused her ears on the far-off sounds of fighting coming from the direction the hybrid had pointed her in.

Flashing forwards, she paused at the opening of the Gypsum and as she peaked through a broken window she ducked when a head came flying over her head. As she rose she saw that a group had surrounded a single man in the middle. Klaus. Without thought or practical examination, she flashed around the circle pulling hearts, not staying still long enough for them to focus on who she was. This was a move she had gotten a lot of use out of when factions over the last four centuries had decided they would benefit by attacking the Salvatore Boarding School.

She came to the last assailant, but before she ripped the werewolf’s heart out, she realized Klaus would want information and switched to the neck. In a quick snap the body fell to the floor, neck broken. She was covered in blood; her pleasant and bright floral skirt and her blue shirt was covered in it. The veins were crawling up towards her eyes in a dangerous but beautiful image.

Klaus for his credit had relaxed though aware enough that he could step in if the need arose. Caroline. She was here, standing bloody and predatorily glaring at him as though this was the biggest inconvenience of her life. Licking some blood off her wrist she glanced at him and raised an eyebrow.

“You going to ask me to dance?” she asked flipping her hair over her shoulder and placing her hands on her hips.

Klaus for his credit jumped into action pulling her into his arms and spinning them in long slow circles around the room. Looking down at the blonde wraith in his arms, beautiful until angered. “If you want me to love, I’ll always take you to dance.”

“Still with the fancy lines Mikaelson, all I need is you. No pomp, no circumstance,” she commented looking at him happily her eyes brightening as they danced around the pub which was littered with dead bodies and stained with blood. She started laughing as she looked at him. She may be dripping with blood, but he was caked in it. Pulling away she stepped over a leg and smiled. “This wasn’t how I thought we’d reunite,” she said giggling as she pushed a bloodied lock of hair away from her cheek.

               “Really? I always thought we’d meet with bloodshed and rage, though I don’t think it was ever you saving me,” Klaus chuckled wiping a smear of blood from her cheek and then sucking the blood from his finger. Caroling blushed and moved in closer to hide against his chest.

               “Klaus, will you take me home please?” she looked up into his eyes. She was tired, but content to stay right here if he wanted to, but her body was tired. Not to mention in all 438 years she’d never gained a voyeurism kink.

               “For you anything?” he said pulling her tight to his chest and flashing as fast as his 1400-year-old powers would propel him towards the house. Once inside his room, he pushed her towards the ensuite shower, though not before kissing her gently on the lips. “I’ll be along shortly I just have to do one thing first.”

               Caroline nodded the smile still on her lips as she walked slowly into the bathroom her hips swaying in such a way that made Klaus smirk. She was everything she wanted and more, now they finally had each other. Pulling his phone out of his pocket he shot a quick text out.

 {Klaus to Rebekah} Thank you. The villa in Cyprus and Switzerland are yours. Congratulations on your nuptials.

{Rebekah to Klaus} No problem, she was ready to go anyway. Be yourself brother, she’s loved you for 400 years, she’ll love you 400 more.

[fanatic-writers]

The List (Part 2)

A/n: Oh dang!  I managed to put up a fic in time! I hope you guys like it as much as the last one and if you ever need to talk about this stuff feel free to send in an ask or a message! Also, A and I are still looking for another writer so contact us if you want some info on that! -G

Warnings: Mentions of anxiety and depression, some swearing, angst(ish)

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He looked over at her sleeping form in the bed. Part of him wished he never found that list, then maybe he’d be able to sleep. Then again he’d never know how bad it was if he hadn’t found it. Loki looked into the general direction of the closet and figured if she was asleep there was no hurt in finishing what he started. Besides, he’d know if she woke up.

6.   The only people that love me are forced to

The god sighed, he knew this wasn’t directed at him, but it still hurt. Her family life was never something she liked to talk about. While she loved her mother, her father was never to be brought up in conversation.

“You’re sure you want to move there? I mean you’ll be far away, and I doubt you’ll make it that long,” he said for the umpteenth time

“I'll be okay, dad” she replied

“You can’t come back if you miss me,” he said

“I’m not going to miss you,” she fired back

“So you don’t love me? I’m your dad Y/n,” he called as she got in her car

“I never said that,” she called out

“That’s what this looks like,” he yelled coming up to her car, fake tears in his eyes

“I’m not six anymore,” she stated as calm as she could, this was harder than she thought “it’s not like we’ve seen each other much since I was 13 anyway. I thought you’d get the hint by now.”

“That wasn’t my choice it was your mother's,” he cried

“Actually,” she paused “it was mine, and you know it.”

She started pulling out of the driveway the last thing she heard was her father yelling “You’ll never make it and when you need something you won’t have me to fall back on!”

“You were never there to fall back on anyways” she muttered.

As far as Loki knew that was the last time they had talked to each other. The girl and her mother had left her father when she was three. It’s not like she liked her dad, and no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t fix it. She wanted to, but he’d hurt her too much without even knowing. The god knew she was often haunted by the memories of her father, much like he was by Odin. Her father made her feel like utter shit like she was utter shit. There was no other way to see it and Loki had vowed long ago that if he ever met the man he’d punch him square in the jaw.

7.    I don’t know what it’s like to be happy

Her entire life was living one moment to the next, looking out for anything that could fuck her over and somehow finding it. It’s not like she tried to find the bad things they just seemed to always find her. He’d noticed it when they first started dating, how she’d be happy and then minutes later she’d be upset.

“How long do you think this can actually last?” she yelled

“Not much longer if you keep this up” he sneered

“Well I’m sorry that I’m the only one here who actually thinks about the future,” she roared tears coming to her eyes

“Would it really be so bad if we kept dating? Do I make you unhappy?” he asked

“No,” she confessed “you make me so happy, and that’s the problem.”

“Why can’t you just let yourself be happy?” the god said trying, and failing, to calm down

“Because that’s when shit goes sideways. That’s when people realize I’m a piece of garbage,”

“You’re not a piece of garbage,” he sighed

“You just haven’t known me long enough” she frowned

“Y/n,” he said taking her hands “even if others think that of you I never will.”

“How can you know?” she replied, her breathing was slowing but her eyes were wild

“Because I love you,” he said

If the god had known that would send her over the edge, making her cry and have a breakdown he probably would’ve chosen a better time to tell the girl. He wished he had told her sooner, but hindsight always was 20/20

8.   I’m a disappointment

This fell on her parents. It’s not like they meant to do it, both Y/n and Loki knew this. But with the way her father treated her her brain seemed to be wired to think everything, even compliments, were words of disapproval. Loki had learned this on his own, he saw himself in her, and he knew that she must feel as he always had.

She had forgotten to do something the god had asked her to do earlier in the day. She was about to go to bed when he asked her about it.

“Shit,” she muttered

“You didn’t do it?” he asked hiding his annoyance, it wasn’t a big deal he could do it tomorrow

“I am so sorry,” she said “I could go do it now,”

“It’s fine,” he cut her off

“No it’s not this is, what, the” she trailed off thinking “third time I’ve done that this week?” “You’ve been busy darling I don’t mind if you forget to do a simple task,” the god said only realizing his mistake after he saw the look in her eyes.

“That’s the thing though,” she mumbled, “it was simple and I still couldn’t do it.”

“You could do it you just forgot,” Loki reminded her

“Even if I did it we both know would’ve messed it up.” she frowned

“I just asked you to get milkY/n how could you mess that up?” he tried to reason

“Last time I got the wrong kind,” she said

“It all tastes the same love,” the god stated

“It does not,” she argued. 

That night had ended with her informing him on how different types of milk tasted. Loki still believed that they tasted the same, but if it made you feel better, he’d talk with her about milk till the cows come home.

9.   No matter what I do I’ll never be anything more than a number

She sat at her desk filling out paperwork, being an agent was great but was it worth all this? So many blank lines begging to be filled and all she could come up with was a word or two. Not that she needed more it just felt like she did. She was constantly told she’d never get anywhere if she didn’t separate herself from the crowd but how could she do that if he job was to hide in the shadows. And even if she did show people how good she was it never seemed to be enough. Even after she became an Avenger, she felt that she was just apart of the group to SHIELD. She felt like the one everyone thought they had to protect like she really wasn’t supposed to be a part of the team her name just happened to be on the list and no one realized the mistake till it was too late. She was one agent in a large agency and one avenger on a growing team, how long would it take to replace her? How long would it take them to realize their mistake?

10.   I can’t recognize the good things that are right in front of me

Loki hadn’t realized how late it was when he gave up on sleep and he didn’t know how early it was now.

“What are you doing?” he heard her ask

He was a child with his hand caught in the cookie jar “nothing,” he lied

“What’s that?” the girl asked, her eyes grew wide and her voice started to shake

“It’s nothing,” he told her again before she hesitantly reached for the notebook. Loki didn’t even bother to stop her.

Her face morphed into a worried expression, Loki knew this look by now and he knew he’d have to choose his words carefully, “why didn’t you tell me?” he cursed himself in his head, he was supposed to be good at this.

“You weren’t meant to find this,” she said shoving the notebook in the corner of the closet and walking out of the room. The god knew that she didn’t want to talk about anything on that list but he had to talk to her, he had to know that she was ok, so he followed her. He found her sitting on the floor in the kitchen, tears streaming down her face. “Still don’t think I’m a piece of garbage?” she muttered

“Of course not,” he said sitting next to her and pulling her into his lap “can we at least try and talk about this love?”

“I-I’d prefer if we didn’t,” she whispered

“Please,” the god asked

“I- Where do you want to start?” she asked curling up tighter

“Why?” he started

“Why do I feel like that or why did I write it cause I don’t think  know the answer to either of those questions,” she confessed

“Why did you write it?” he asked again

“I guess I figured if I wrote it down later I’d be better and it’d be something I could grow from?” she asked more than stated “I mean it was just one of those things you know? I was freaking out and it somehow managed to calm me down. I’ve been doing it for awhile actually,”

“How long?” he seemed more distraught than she did, he figured it felt right for her to get these things off her chest but to hear that she felt more comfortable talking to a journal than him stung.

“Since I was a teen,” she told him “it was easier than telling my parents all my problems, a piece of paper can’t judge you.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked again

“I was afraid that if you realized how messed up, I am you’d finally have the common sense to leave me.” her voice became soft again

“I’m not going to leave you,” he told her “you may be a pain sometimes, but you are arguably the best thing that has ever happened to me. You’re beautiful Y/n and amazing, you can build palaces out of paragraphs.”

“Did you just quote Hamilton?” she asked

“Possibly,” he commented, “but we both know it’s true.”

“Thank you,” she responded “and although being in a relationship with you has been one of the scariest things I’ve done I’m glad I’ve finally found someone who actually cares,”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- A/n: I hope you guys enjoyed the fic! Requests are open as always! Love you all -G

[there-is-more-to-westerburg]

Story Post

((Credit to @so-chaos-killed-the-dinosaurs for writing this amazing post! Love you girl!!))

You’re probably thinking, “What the fuck L! Why are you doing this, why are you running through Sherwood, Ohio in the dead of night to meet a guy as old as your mom?” “Don’t you think this is creepy? Aren’t you worried that you are running to your death?”.

Honestly no, I’m not worried about that. Sure, I’m scared, heck I’m terrified about what is going on, but so far JD has been the only person to really help me. Ever since my mom started acting weird and I found those messages on her phone, ever since I sent in that first message “Hey I just found my mom’s phone. Who are you people? -L” he has been the only person to take me seriously. If I had known then, just how much stuff that little message was going to lead me to and who all it would introduce me to, I probably would have chosen better wording. I would have said something more impressive, something more intriguing than what I did, but I had no clue I just wanted to know why my mom hasn’t been herself lately. 

My mom has been acting weird for weeks now, she has been so nervous and fidgety. We would be talking about something and then she would just space out completely, her eyes would become dazed and glazed over and suddenly she would be somewhere else, a million miles away. She suddenly seemed more nervous around me and started acting weirder than normal whenever I would quote poetry or talk about whatever new book on engineering I had found at the library and about a week ago she just spaced out staring at me.

Sure, my mom has her moments I know she went through a lot when she was my age, I mean three kids at her school all died in like less than a month, but she has never been like this before. Then I noticed her phone…she always seemed to be on it and would never let it out of her sight, and that was just freaky. My mother never cared much for her phone before, outside of work she almost never really used it and suddenly it seemed like she couldn’t put it down. 

So yeah the first moment she let it out of her sight I got on it, and I found just endless messages with a group of people I had never heard of before, and accounts on tumblr she had been talking to. My mom had been on Tumblr! That alone was a scary thought. It was so weird, she seemed to be talking to people about her old high school and the students who died back in her senior year, even though that all happened nearly three decades ago!!! I wanted to know what was going on with her and these people seemed like a chance to learn what was going on, the reactions to my message was… mixed to say the least. 

“Your mom's phone. You found your mom's phone. Ver-Veronica is your mother? Veronica Sawyer is your mother???”

“HEATHER!! It's a pleasure to meet you L! We are old friends of your mother. She has never mentioned that she had a child before.” 

“My, my, my. Veronica, you dirty slut, you had a kid and you never even bothered to tell me about it?”

Now you’re probably thinking “Dang L, privacy much!”.

I know, I know but I really wanted to know what was up with my mom.

And I got answers, sure people were acting weird and saying stuff that didn’t make since. I think they were teasing me since I’m “just a kid”, but JD didn’t treat me like that. He took me seriously and answered any questions I had for him that he could answer. 

He talked to me, he really talked to me not down to me like so many adults seem to do. Then we met in person and he was nice and cool. This may seem odd but even though he is around the same age as my mom he didn’t feel like an adult, it was almost like I was I was actually hanging out with another teen, a teen that had graying tips and wore glasses that is. 

We hung out and talked and it turns out we have a lot in common, both of us like classical literature and he knows a bit about engineering, he was even interested in my photography!

So here I am running down the sidewalk at like 10 o’clock at night in my combat boots and my black skater dress with my backpack slung over my shoulder off to some undetermined destination that JD still needs to tell me. While some kids online that I don’t even know, who don’t even know me, are screaming at me to stop. 

“L, I swear to God if you leave that house I’ll hunt you down. Don’t.fucking.follow.him. He is not what he seems. Your mom is right you need to stay the fuck home. Listen to me if you give a shit about your life.”

“L. Where are you going. Tell me right now.”

Look I hear them, I really do and I get where they are coming from, but JD is the only person I really trust right now and it’s not like I’m defenseless, I have my pepper spray if worse comes to worse.

“L go to where we went after we got food the other day. - JD” 

The library, we went to the library after we got chili fries the other day. Good I’m headed in that direction already.

I keep running. I run past the houses that line along the road, I past the outside area of the industrial part of Sherwood, past the park and the old playgrounds, past the theater and old clothing stores. By the time I reach the Sherwood Public Library I am really out of breath, my lungs are burning and I’m panting. 

Breath In, breath out, in, out, in, out. 

I regulate my breathing and try to cool down. 

I push open the doors to the library, surprisingly this place stays open pretty late some nights for a library. Making my way past the old wooden shelves I head over to the poetry section. There JD was griping a thin book in his hands, his eyes scanning over the pages.

“What you got there?”

I guess I startled him as JD seemed to  jumped at my words. He glanced up at me before his eyes settles back on the page, letting out a breath he closed the book. 

 “Ah sorry Lilith, you startled me.”

He looked nervous, his white button up was ruffled and he was shuffling his feet back and forth, his free hand seemed to be constantly twitching at his side. The book he had been reading was clinched in his right hand, glancing down I was able to read the title. 

“Charles Baudelaire: Complete Poems didn’t take you for a Baudelaire man.” 

He glanced back down at the book before replacing it on the shelve. 

“Ah, yea I find his poetry intriguing. I was actually reading Autumn thought it was fitting...” 

I kept trying to catch his eyes but he kept glancing anywhere but at me. 

“You kind of have me freaked out here JD... That message was a little scary and it didn’t help that Stella and Mer where yelling at my entire way here. So, what’s up? What’s so urgent that I had to sneak out my bedroom window?” 

“Ok. Sorry I know I have probably really freaked you out.  What with that message and all, but I felt like I needed to.  Because this might be the last chance I will ever get to talk to you, both in person and in general, and there are things I need to tell you. Come on it’s probably best if I we sit down to talk about this.” 

JD started to head to the back of the library, leading me to an arrangement of various tables and chairs, pulling back one of the chairs he set down. Pulling out the chair opposite him I set down, sliding my bag off my shoulders and next to me on the ground.

“Ok, JD spill.”

JD’s head was tilled down, his hands running through his hair, he appeared disheveled. 

“Lil, I’ve never really had a conversation like this before. It’s kind of new to me, but I am going to try and do this right.” His voice seemed thick, like it was hard for him to speak. 

“I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the past, a lot. Things I will never be able to make up for, things I still don’t regret but I know I should because they hurt your mom. They hurt her and I have spent every day since then regretting that I hurt her even if I don’t really seem to show it. It has always been hard for me to convey those emotions, to emit to them.” 

He finally looked up, finally looking me in the eyes and while it wasn’t as clear on the outside you could tell he was tormented. His eyes seemed haunted, like they have seen a million things that he will never be able to forget. When we had met in the past that look was there, it was just always covered up, but now it wasn’t. Now it was clear as day, eyes that showed regret and torment and stuff I never thought I would see so clearly from an adult.

“The reason I messaged you to meet me here is because your mom knows, she knows that you have been on her phone and talking to us, all of us: Heather, Kurt, Stella everyone.” 

Shock ran through my body, I had been so careful… I had tried so hard to make sure she wouldn’t learn. 

“How did she figure it out?”

“Kurt, the idiot thought it would be funny to start spilling secrets. Of course, your mom freaked, then she learned that not only had you been talking to all of us, but me particularly, that you had been meeting up with me. And I tried… I tried so hard to just get her to listen.” His voice cracked. 

“To just… just calm down and realize that nothing bad was happening. That I was far from any threat to you or her, but she wouldn’t hear me out. She is planning to take you two back to New York early. When you go back home your mom is probably already going to have your bags out and have purchased two tickets on the next flight out of here. When you guys go I will probably never see you or her ever again and I hate that… I hate it.”

“I have been in this town for the last 28 years, I got stuck here and was never really able to leave.  I haven’t had the best life. Actually I’ve had a pretty horrible life, and meeting your mom… that was one of the best moments of my life. She… she was amazing, spectacular!” A small sad smile seemed to stretch across his face as he spoke.

“I know this must be weird me talking about your mom like this… but I did care for her. I was just so messed up that I didn’t know how to handle it and I did bad things as a result. I hurt her and lost her because of it, and I have been trying to make up for it. But no matter what I do I just make it worse because I still don’t know how to handle this kind of stuff. But ever since I started talking to your mother again, to you, I’ve felt better than I have in a long time. That maybe I will be able to make up for all the horrible things I did, and I got… I don’t know happy. I was happy because I was getting to talk to Veronica again even if she does hate me, and I was getting to know about her life. I was getting to know about you! You are such a big part of her life and remind me so much of your mother but you are so different from her at the same time! I don’t think Veronica would have ever dyed her hair blue!”

I fingered a piece of my hair glancing down at the pastel blue that met my eyes.

“I got to really know you and that has been fantastic and I have really enjoyed getting to talk to someone with the same interest as me, but I know your mother just wants what is best for you, for her. She believes that the safest place for you is thousands of miles away from here.”

“I don’t…” I started to speak up to interject, to let him know that I didn’t think this place was so bad however JD raised a hand for me to stop.

“No Lil, your mother is right, this town isn’t safe. There are things here that could hurt you, and we… she can’t take that chance. I thought that if I answered your questions, if I helped you, then maybe you wouldn’t go snooping, maybe I could keep you safe, keep you from getting too involved like Stella, Mer and now even that Laura kid. Heather has taken way to much of an interest in her. But I also know that you are a determined person, if you want to know something you will work to get the answers. So, I would like to ask you a favor. Can I do that, can I ask you to do one thing for me?”

JD was staring right at me, his face completely serious his green eyes piercing into me as he waited for my response. 

 “Sur… sure JD. I’ll what I can. As long as it isn’t illegal or won’t hurt anyone, because that is where I draw the line!” 

 “No Lil, nothing illegal. When you and your mother leave, I don’t want you to put up any kind of fight, I want you to leave Sherwood and never come back.” 

“I want you to go back to New York and grow up, I want you to have a life and just be seventeen.  I want you to get a chance to be something I never did, and even once you are grown I want you to stay away from Sherwood, because even nearly three decades later this place is still haunting your mother and I don’t want it haunting you. So, can you promise me that once you leave that is it, Sherwood is forever off the map.”

I jolted up, my chair falling to the ground behind me.

“I…. I.. you can’t think that I..” I started to panic, I couldn’t leave Sherwood, forever… not when I had just got here and just started to get answers to all my questions. “My grandparents live here, you can’t possibly think that..” 

 JD grabbed my hands, that prior to then had been moving wildly. 

 “Lilith Dean Sawyer I need you to promise me, right now that when you leave Sherwood you will NEVER come back. Never. Please… please just promise me this. I know Veronica she will find a way to work around your grandparents. I know she will make everything work so please, promise me you will do this.”

“JD… fine I’lll… I’ll do what I can. But before I head back home, before I leave, I want to know one thing.”

“Ok, you are doing something for me so it is only right that I tell you something in return.” 

 “I want to know your name, your full name. Because so far I only know that the J stands for Jason.” 

 JD looked at me, seeming shocked, slowly he shook his head. “Dang Lil, taking all the mystery away… my name.” He paused, thinking, “Fine that’s something that I can do.” 

 “So you going tell me or wha-” 

 Suddenly several “dings” sounded from my phone. “Ah. One moment!” I grabbed my phone out of my back pocket and flipped it around to see the screen.

“Lilith answer your phone right now young lady!!” 

“Lilith I’m really worried answer me.”

“Lilith if you don’t respond right now you are so grounded for life!! Life you hear me little lady!!!” 

“Lilith please respond, please.” 

“Lilith your grandmother feel down the stairs and I think she may have broken her hip. I am taking her and to the hospital.” 

“Lilith sweetheart, I am at the hospital, your grandfather is at home. Please come home or meet me here. If you need me to come get you I could come pick you up.”

Scrolling down the screen I felt myself panic more and more with each message that I read. 

 “Shit. Shit!” I practically tripped over my own feet rushing to get my bag. “JD I have to go; my mom is panicking and my grandmother is hurt. I have to get to the hospital.” 

 I started to run to the front of the library when I was suddenly halted by a shout of “Dean!” 

Turning around I stared at JD who was rushing after me. “What?” 

“Thought I would end the suspense! Dean. Dean is my last name.” 

Dean. Dean. His last name was Dean. 

“Hahaha Dean. Oh my god that explains so much. Jason Dean. Uh.” 

“What?” 

 “I think I might like my middle name better now, doesn’t seem so bad anymore.” I yelled as I ran out of the library.

I ran down the street, the world quiet except for the sound of my boots hitting the side walk and the sounds of random insects. Grasping one of my bag’s straps with my right arm, trying to keep the bag from falling off as I ran. 

Unknown to Lilith a trail of black smoke floated above her, following her as she ran. The thick black cloud of smoke and ash twirled and swirled in on itself, constantly moving. This smoke this cloud this poltergeist was unlike anything Lilith had ever seen in her life and soon it would become all she would know. 

Suddenly the thick smoked swooshed down circling around the unexpecting teen. 

Lilith let out a scream, as she suddenly found herself surrounded by this unknown form that smelled of charcoal and cigarette smoke. 

“What the Fuck!” 

Turning every which way Lilith looked for anyway out of this, only to realize that there was no way out of this. 

Suddenly all around her came a chant of the same word over and over again. 

“Lilith, Lilith, Lilith..”

Lilith felt terror overcome her, she was frozen, suddenly finding her limbs unresponsive. Her deep brown eyes widening in shock, she knew this voice. A small strand of the smoke seemed to reach out from the rest, reaching out like a hand towards Lilith. 

“Lilith, Lilith, Lilith, Lilith..”  

She knew this voice, she was sure of it, but in that moment of terror her brain didn’t seem to want to process anything.

She is terrified, but she knows what this is, or at the very least has a good idea. Years ago, she had witness something similar in New York, but it was still nothing like this. 

A ghost. An actual ghost. A ghost that is stuck here and for some reason has come to her, and somehow knows her name.

“What…. Who are you? Is… is there anything I can do to help? Do you need help… moving on?” Her voice was shaky, no matter what she did she couldn’t get a full hold of herself. 

The cloud seemed to almost shiver. “Don’t go… don’t go..” the air around her was suddenly filled with a chant of the two words, over and over. 

“Go where should I not go? The hospital, I have to go there my grandma is hurt. I don’t understand what do you want?” 

"Don’t go” repeated again around Lilith. 

“I don’t understand!” Cried Lilith

“All alone. No one ever loves me… but you seem to care.. . thought she cared… thought she would listen.. but she doesn’t… just like the rest… but you care… right? You care?” 

“Lilith... Lilith Dean.” 

The voice seemed sad and mad at the same time, depressed even. And suddenly it started to hit Lilith, were she had heard this voice before, how she knew this voice. She had heard this voice, not half an hour ago, sitting across from her. But it wasn’t possible JD was alive, he wasn’t this. 

“J…JD? JD is that you?” 

The smoke suddenly expanded, inching even closer to Lilith. 

“How… how is this possible. I saw you not half an hour ago! This doesn’t make any sense!”

“Been alone so long, not whole… split into bits… always alone.. always angry… everything always hurts. Stupid kids… stupid fucking kids.. started messing around. Wouldn’t leave us alone. Ver…Veronica in danger… hurts but still cared.. had to protect, but she just got mad at me… didn’t… wouldn’t understand”

“So you don’t want to be alone anymore?”

“No more… been so long…” 

“Is there anything I can really do? I’m still relatively new to this whole ghost thing, I have only had one experience before this and that was nothing like now.”

“Stay with… stay with you… stay with Veronica…”

“I don’t know how my mom will feel about this... actually she would freak. She would probably lecture me for year and I’d probably be grounded till I’m 40, but… you don’t deserve to be in pain. You’ve been so nice to me. Really talked to me when on one else would. You actually listen to me and my interest..” 

Lilith ran it over in her head, it probably wasn’t her best idea but she couldn’t just abandon him. 

“Ok, you can stay with us… but how would this work… how would you..”

She never got to finish what she was about to say next, as the cloud rushed at her, covering her entirely. And as suddenly as he had swooped down on her he seemed to disappear. Lilith collapsed to the ground, trails of black smoke filtering into her mouth, till none remained.

She laid there on the ground, unmoving, silent her chest remained still. 

Then suddenly her chest rose and fell as she sucked in a huge gulp of air. Her fingers twitched then curled in, her eyes shot open once a dark brown they were now completely black.

[0225pm]

good morning! it's currently 9:18AM and i'm so damn beat i want to ko already but i'm pooping rn hence i've decided to post something!!!! soOoOoo because i'm an overly attached gf who needs attention like 24/7 i actually went down all the way to han's place because i missed him hahahahahaha like, initially i was contemplating about it because....... 1, i was afraid that he might have fallen asleep 2, he might not be able to leave the house at such timing 3, he might get mad at me for troubling myself before traveling to his place, dayah wanted to meet up after her shift ended for supper and since i haven't really had anything for dinner i thought it was a good idea to fill my tummy first. so i met her at our usual haunt (the mcds near our place) and asked her for some advice about whether i should go over to his place or not. she was rather against it since it was already really late (about 12ish by the time we reached mcds) and even if we're to uber or grab down it will be really really late and she was kinda worried about my wellbeing since his area is rather quiet with little to zero human traffic at such a late timing unlike our area - we have quite a fair bit of shops that are open 24/7. she also said i must be so obsessed with han to the point that i'm willing to travel all the way there so late which tbh is true la hahaha honestly i don't mind traveling anywhere he is, except maybe if i have to buy a plane ticket or smth la bc your girl is broke (；▽；) but anyway i ended up saying fuck it and just decided to go je because i'm gonna make "go je" one of my life mottos now (half kidding about this bc i'm still a coward and i'm forever thinking about the "what ifs"). and booked an uber around 1:45AM almost 2 i guess!! it was considerably cheap!!!! like $9 for the ride after discount. and wah u know how hard it was to try and surprise han HAHAHAHA i was trying to lie my way through to not make him suspicious of me by asking him to play ml together (another tactic to keep him busy so he won't fall asleep!) and then he got a lil mad bc i kept asking him to wait and wait so he played like i think 3 rounds of brawl while waiting for me to come online hahahaha but hoho little did he know!!! during the last round i told him to lemme know when his game was ending and when he finally texted me, i immediately called him and then asked him if he can come out. i'm not sure if he was taken aback bc he said no at first so i asked if his parents were asleep already and he said no LMAO i was soOo shocked but i didn't rly feel disappointed bc i know that was one of the possibility of him not being able leave the house and i actually brought along some things to keep me busy while i wait (my drawing stuff and a book i'm currently reading). then he asked me come out where? if go out he won't able to so i told him to just come down then cus i'm here and he was like "ok u wait there" AND TADA!!!!! my surprise visit was a success???!?!!!?! he asked me what i was doing there while grabbing me into a tight embrace hehehehe he looked genuinely happy and i'm happy too!!!!! he even brushed his teeth (i could smell the mint) before he left the house so that his "breath won't stink" quoted bc that's what he said hahaha lmao so cute rly!!! oh how i've missed him :') 3-4 days felt so longgGgGgg uGhhH and then we walked towards 7-11 cus i told him my breath prolly stinks since i just had macs so i wanted to get some candies to mask the grossness of the spicy nuggets i had hahahaha but he wasn't even bothered and leaned in for a kiss haisSSssssSss i spent a fortune (ok not rly) at 7-11 man like from just wanting to get candies, i ended up getting all sorts of things - a drink, ice cream, an onigiri. the amount u pay for convenience sake :') and then we decide to sit around mccafe and played a round of ml which we lost bc he didn't realised that his data was all out *rolls eyes* HAHAHAHA and then bc we were trying to conserve both our phones battery lives, we decided to stop playing and that was when i could really look at his face sighHh idk how he can look so good all the time wtf meanwhile i look like a kentang (this is true i have gained the weight i lost hahahha but good la this shows that i'm happy right) and then he went on and said "now dunno what to do right cus cannot play ml alr" and i was like nahHhh it's fine and then he looked at me and went all "is it you bored?" and i shook my head hahahah yallllllll idk about him but i don't think there will ever be a time that i will feel bored just looking at his face and basking his in presence sia like i can't get enough hahaha and then he took my phone and went through my camera roll of junk (i have 12k over photos) so i asked him for the password to his phone and he just went like this ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ (damn taik rly) so i kept asking again and again and he just ¯\_(ツ)_/¯!!!! and finally said "theres some past stuff i haven't deleted yet not bc i want to keep them for memories but bc i'm lazy and idw u to see them there since it's not deleted" and i was like???? why?????? didn't u delete them???? then????? then he wanted to unlock his phone for me to let me see but i was like nah u kno what i'm not gonna get my feelings hurt bc maybe there are intimate photos inside too so i rather not look at them and he was like "no there's no intimate photos la" but it was like it's ok!!! :) and then i snatched my phone back from him since i felt like it was kinda unfair that he could see all the photos i have with no secrecy. but then he took his phone and went on a "deletion mode" clearing unwanted photos in his phone while showing me photos he had of me in his gallery!!!! i looked so!!! cute wtf HAHAHAHA like there was a few photos where i actually think i look quite cute and which i've never seen before bc he didn't send it to me wah damn selfish keep for himself HAHAHA JKJK but ya most of them were during my blonde/silver hair days tho sighhhh i rly miss having light colored hair tbvvvvh :( and then he gave me the password to his phone!!!!! wowowoow i never knew that such a day would come (no i'm not being loyar buruk ok hahahaahah) and gave me the freedom to look through his phone (but i never did actually hahaahha bc i was busy scrolling thru my 12k worth of photos instead wth i missed my chance!!!!) even when he went outside for a smoke and left his phone with me i didn't even look through his gallery wth so dumb i could have sent the photos to myself!! but ok ya then i wanted to pee so i asked him to accompany me (bc the toilet is the one at the food court and even though it's relatively clean, the atmosphere was still quiet since it was only around 4+AM in the morning). then we walked back to his place and sat at the void deck - he told me stories about his encik at the station and showed me a few diss track videos between some youtubers and this one really cool short stories videos of which i've forgotten the name of, i will have to ask him later!! and then around 630-7AM i decided to leave the place and instead of taking grab or uber back home i insisted on taking the train and bus bc i wanted to listen to an updated playlist of music that i had synced earlier on BUT LOL WTF apparently ZERO music got synced into the phone and my journey was kinda half shitty bc i thought that i can finally listen to some new tracks but i ended up just listening to the 200+ old music in my phone. not that they're bad music but it has been about 3 months since i last updated my playlist so i've been listening to the same old tracks for quite some time already. but anyway!!!! i still had a great time bc at least i managed to see han today ^^ i guess it's something to get me through the rest of the day and till tomorrow's shift. ok this took like rly long to write and i'm actually done pooping. time check: 10:09AM!! i'm gonna shower and remove my makeup before hitting the hay!