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wanderingxrivers · 5 years ago

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So remember when I said Neal Caffrey is a Hedge Witch. My brain did a thing.

One Untitled White Collar/Magicians xover WIP

Neal George Caffrey was many things depending on who you asked; con man, innocent man, grifter, forger, thief. All of the above were certainly true depending on who you asked and what you were asking about. What most people didn’t know, however, was that there was another title to which he could lay claim, hedge witch. His status as a hedge was something of a close guarded secret. While he could and did use magic, doing things manually when he could had a certain appeal that he just couldn’t shake. Outside of the few members of his safe house and an even fewer select allies, no one knew of the star tattoos that tumbled his forearm reflecting his status as a hedge.

It was one of the few things that even the famed Peter Burke didn’t know about but considering that Peter was a graduate of Brakebills, it was all too likely that the federal agent had never lowered himself to the level of hedges and safe houses and using just the barest bits of ambient magic that hung in the air in glittering motes.

The first time Neal used magic, he was still Danny Brooks; a terrified child shoved into WitSec with a mother too shell-shocked by the implosion of her life to notice when her son started sneaking out at odd hours to play with a power he barely understood. He had started with a rudimentary shielding charm cast in a moment of desperation and moved up to spells designed to disguise clothes often too threadbare to called second hand and the odd bruise left from the discipline meted out by his mom’s endless cycle of boyfriends.

It was one such discipline session that propelled him into leaving home and into the life that led him to crossing paths with Mozzie and then later, Kate. Mozzie knew, of course. He was a hedge himself but never called himself an ally to one safe house over another. He preferred his independence from the warring factions of hedges that spread their way across NYC and the world over. Kate never knew, but she certainly suspected. He had had his fair share of close shaves, some of which were only escapable by some well-timed spell work in conjunction with no small amount of sheer dumb luck.

In the end, though, despite his love for her, despite his attempts to keep them together, despite everything, she left. Her leaving left him bereft, leaving him to make mistakes he never would have made otherwise. Those mistakes left him in the situation he found himself in now, tethered to an anklet with a two mile radius and a classically trained Magician as his handler.

***

This was not the first time that Neal cursed his radius since accepting the deal that kept him from spending yet more time behind bars. An enchantment on a favored tie pin that gave his words just that extra push of believability was beginning to fade and he needed to strengthen it before the sting operation this weekend. He had all he needed for the spell save for a just a few herbal components. And of course, the one safe house he knew that carried them was right outside his radius.

Neal cast a baleful look at the tracker, cursing technology’s resistance to magical manipulation. He knew half a dozen different spells for slipping bonds, none of which would work on the tracker that wound itself around his ankle for the next 4 years. Instead, he found himself attaching a list to the leg of one of the pigeons that called the balcony of his penthouse home.

With the twitch of his fingers, he pushed the image of Mozzie into the bird’s head, tell the fowl that Mozzie was the home that the bird needed to return to. With any luck, Mozz would recognize the enchanted bird and fetch the supplies that Neal needed. If not, he would have to see about raiding the supply cabinet at the office and hope that no one would notice a few herbs missing.

Say what you would about Neal but he had standards when it came to magical manipulation of people. Marks were fair game. Marks all but invited him in for tea and let him use the enchantments and spells to rob them blind. People like Mozz, Alex, Marina, and Kady, were off limits for magical mischief, Mozz and Marina especially. The former being his closest ally and the latter being absolutely vicious in her vengeance if she felt she had been crossed.

He had heard rumors of a heist from Marina’s gone wrong where the offending party had bled out in front of her daughter with not a single weapon mark on her. Neal suppressed a shudder, Marina was not someone he wanted to cross. Not now, not ever. He abhorred blood and violence. Not the he was incapable of inflicting pain on someone else if the need arose but he did his best to keep that need from arising. It kept things neater, less likely to draw the attention of mundane officers and magical law enforcement.

Releasing the pigeon to fly home to Mozz, he padded back inside where his tie pin lay in a circle of crystals, awaiting the herbs to be burned and smoke wafted over the pin with chants spoken in Enochian. Until either the bird reappeared or Mozz knocked at his door, there was little for Neal to do outside of waiting. If there was anything that Neal was good at, it was waiting. He’d allegedly waited for hours in air ducts and hanging by his fingertips from windows just outside villas for just the right moment to swoop in and steal this piece of art or that precious gem. He’d waited for Kate. He was waiting for Clinton Jones to realize that he wasn’t just looking for a platonic friend but something more intimate. He could certainly wait on a pigeon.

***

As luck would have it, he didn’t have to wait long. A knock at his door told him that Mozz was there and hopefully came bearing gifts in the forms of small packets of sundry herbs and possibly a bottle of fine wine. Striding to the door with a purpose and bounce in his step, he opened it to the face of one Diana Barrigan. Shit. Shit. Shit. His thoughts ran in vaguely panicked circles. Diana didn’t know he was a hedge. She didn’t know about the stars on his arm and the sigils stitched carefully in the hems of his suits and etched in his cufflinks nor did she know about the enchantments on tie pins and glasses worn more for effect then an actual need. He pasted on a winning smile, positioning himself against the door frame in an effort to block her view of the impromptu altar he had set up in anticipation of Mozzie’s arrival.

“Hey Di! Wasn’t expecting to see you. Did Peter need something? Can I get you something?” He waggled his eyebrows suggestively. This was an old dance between them. He would flirt and she would shoot him down as they always did. He knew full well her predilections for the fairer sex and how their game would never go any further than this but the actions and words were as rote as breathing. “Or,” he said seeing the look on her face, “Did you and Christie get into it?”

“No, Caffrey. Peter did send me but,” she said, peeking around him, “it looks like you have your own thing going tonight. Looking to summons the ghosts of con-men past?” She raised an elegant eyebrow in a silent question, wondering what exactly he was up to now.

Neal’s shoulders slumped just slightly. This was his own fault. He should have had concealment spells going as a precaution. On any other day, he would have concealment spells and wards and Di would have never ever seen what she saw tonight. His desire to use as much ambient magic in the area to give him the oomph he needed for his enchantment had overruled good sense. Stupid, he thought bitterly to himself. This would teach him the folly of letting his guard down even in the privacy of his own home. He knew better and had no one to blame his current predicament on but himself.

Diana took advantage of Neal’s lapse in concentration to slip under his arm and let herself into his apartment. She circled the table, noting the placement of crystals, candles, and containers awaiting herbs to fill them. At the center sat a tie pin, a simple circle of gold with the initials “NC” engraved in the center in elegant script. Never let it be said that Diana Elizabeth Barrigan was completely stupid. She could be woefully ignorant at times, inobservant at others, but stupid, never. She could put two and two together and get four. In this case, however, two plus two did not make four. In this case, two and two equaled hedge witch.

Now, she knew about Peters’ status as a full-fledged Magician and the sanctioned usage of magic to close cases that almost no one else could. She was even aware of hedge witches having crossed paths with a few and dated a couple herself. What she didn’t know up until just a few moments ago was that Caffrey himself was a hedge and that the new found revelation of that particular skillset gave her pause to mentally review exactly how he had gotten out of some of the closer shaves he had had over his long and storied criminal career.

“So,” she drawled, tracing a finger around the table’s edge, taking care to not disturb the carefully laid out spell components. “When were you planning on telling us you were a hedge? Does Peter know?” Diana watched Neal through narrowed eyes, waiting for a patented Neal Caffrey denial complete with blinding smile. To be fair, the fact that Neal was a hedge shouldn’t have been a surprise. It was the fact that he’d managed to keep that information from her and the rest of the team. It was the fact that Peter Burke, his biggest cheerleader and head of the “Reform Neal Caffrey Club,” apparently had no clue that his CI was a hedge and that Neal himself had not volunteered the information, especially in light of how tenuous his status as CI was in light of Kate’s death and Neal’s aborted escape.

Diana was a diplomat’s daughter, she knew the truths hidden in lies and lies hidden in truths and how both sounded equally plausible. She only hoped that Caffrey would simply come clean and she could relay the information to Peter in person.

Neal tensed as he watched Diana walk around the table with his enchantment set up and how her finger trailed around its edge, careful to not disturb his carefully arranged items. He was aware of Diana’s propensity to detect lies almost as well as Peter’s infamous gut instinct. And honestly, it wasn’t as if he intended to lie to her. He simply never volunteered the information. It didn’t seem relevant to the work he did for the FBI at the time. It was simply a skill, just like picking a lock or forging a painting. Now with Diana here, in his apartment with all his defenses down and the evidence plain on the table, he had little choice but to confess.

“Yes, I am a hedge witch. No, Peter doesn’t know but I am sure he suspects.” He crossed his arms in a mirror image of Diana’s stance. “My status as a magic user is not something I prefer to advertise. It can bring unwanted attention from individuals I would rather avoid.” Like hedges from a rival safe house he finished silently. There were a couple of very unethical safe houses he tended to avoid for their tendency to use their magic for less savory purposes. He and Mozz had put quiet feelers out to some allies to see if they could put plans in motion to shut them down but this was something that he had no desire to involve the FBI unless needed and honestly was something he could toss on the backburner until some word came that would allow them to move. His more immediate concern was the junior agent in front of him who was teetering on the edge of stone cold fury at the discovery of a secret that should have been laid bare long ago.

Diana shot him a look of sheer incredulity. “You stupid, stubborn, moron! You do realize that garnering that unwanted attention is part. Of. Your. Job.” She ground out the last words between clenched teeth, an ache in her jaw blooming from the effort it took not to simply scream at him until he saw sense. Further epithets flowed in multiple languages from her lips as she got into her groove. “You are a criminal informant. Getting information is your job. And that means sometimes getting attention you don’t want from people you don’t like. You can’t pick and choose who you get attention from. That’s not how this works. Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t slap cuffs on you and march you downtown right here and right now for this!”

Neal took a moment to pick his words carefully. As furious as Diana was, he knew that his position was precarious. She carried two sets of cuffs at all times and was not shy about using them. The first was plain, simple ordinary handcuffs he could pick in moments flat. The second, however, were specially enchanted to nullify magic, they would prevent even the smallest spell from being cast and leave him at a severe disadvantage were he left in them for too long.

#my brain did a thing #idk what i am doing with my life #white collar #the magicians #neal caffrey #hedge witch

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pizzarollpatrol · 6 years ago

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Fic Rec List #3 12/02/18

Thank you so much to all these writers for everything that you do!! Even if we all dont comment and leave feedback on your fics, please know that you are all very much appreciated.

I tried to add more variety to this list like i did to the last one but I’m Bucky trash, I’m sorry. If any of the links dont work please let me know! I’ll fix any issues right away.

Fifty Shades of Bucky by @captain-rogers-beard

Summary: A series of sexual escapades where Bucky shows you what it’s like to give into your deepest desires. Bucky x reader. Smut. Ongoing series. ---- Y'all shouldn't even hesitate to read this series, its amazing. Even if you don’t Fifty Shades of Gray, you’ll love this.

Want One? by @hootyhoobuckaroo

Summary: The reader summons a demon by accidentally drawing an occult symbol in sandwich condiments. The demon, a strange yet oddly charming being by the name Buchanan, begins to frequent her little apartment. It’s only a matter of time until she can make her way past his guarded exterior. Demon!Bucky x reader. Completed miniseries. ---- This fic was so unexpectedly endearing. I loved seeing how their relationship formed and blossomed. I even let out a few tears. I absolutely loved it.

Bookmark My Heart by @moonbeambucky

Summary: A handoms single dad catches your eye at the library. Is he the one or will your love be shelved? Bucky x reader. Library!AU

Stardust by @after-avenging-hours

Summary: After a mixup with NASA’s resupply, you find out that you’re going to run out of your suppressant medication. The commander tries to come up with a plan to deal with you approaching heat, but how easily will she be able to control the only unmated Alpha on board? Chris Beck x reader. Smut. A/B/O

That Chair by @sebbymylove16

Summary: Sebastian Stan x reader. Smut.

The One by @serpienten

Summary: Y/N is in love with Bucky Barnes. Bucky Barnes is not in love with Y/N. Bucky x reader. Completed miniseries. ---- ohhhh my godddd. The second chapter tore my heart to pieces, I was crying the whole time I read it. This series was so good.

Are You With Me by @serpienten

Summary: Bucky finds himself second guessing everything. Bucky x reader.

Do Me a Favor by @captainrogerss

Summary: AU!Bucky Barnes and you are neighbors and close friends. As a huge favor, Bucky asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend for a relatives wedding and you agree. Bucky x reader. Completed series. ---- I love the fake dating AU so much, this was such a good series.

Unrequited by @invisibleanonymousmonsters

Summary: Steve can only watch from the sidelines as she loves his best friend. Steve Rogers, reader. ---- This was so heartbreaking!!!! I cant imagine how much this would hurt and how guilty you’d feel for having these feelings.

Countdown to White by @writingcroissant

Summary: The countdown of your life. Five more days until you marry Bucky Barnes and begin the rest of your life. Bucky x reader. I LOVED this. Its so sweet and cute and I could not stop smiling while reading it. Its perfect.

Wrong by @writingcroissant

Summary: Its been a whole year since Y/N left him, and yet Bucky still fails to move on. Bucky x reader. Smut.

Hush by @imdrchrisbeck

Summary: Chris is the cute, nerdy librarian who is crushing on you. Chris Beck x reader. Librarian!College!AU. ---- I loved this so much. It was so sweet and endearing.

Sweet Tooth by @sweetboybucky

Summary: Bucky Barnes has a sweet tooth.

In Front of the Camera by @propertyofpoeandbucky

Summary: Your friend and neighbor, Bucky, is a cam guy, but you have no idea until your friend sends you a like to one of his livestreams. AU!Bucky x reader. Ongoing series. Smut. ---- This fic is such a ride yall. Its exciting and frustrating and you cant help but keep on reading.

Something Just Like This by @justsomebucky

Summary: AU. This is the story of an ordinary couple with an extraordinary love. Bucky x reader. ---- I just really fell in love with your writing and I just had to put you on this months list, I just couldn't choose just one fic.

Five by @justsomebucky

Summary: AU. Time is a heartless bitch and runs out far too soon. Bucky x reader. ---- Holy crap, I could not stop crying. I literally had to just lay there and breathe because I could not stop

Broken By @justsomebucky

Summary: AU. There’s just something about a painting that you just cant shake. Bucky x reader.

Life’s a Movie by @justsomebucky

Summary: AU. You and your best friend, Bucky, watch a romcom together, but something just doesn't sit right with him. Bucky x reader.

Burning House by @jaamesbbarnes

Summary: You thought Bucky was over you but you thought wrong. Bucky x reader. Completed two part series. ---- Oooooooooh my god. I was so emotional reading both parts. I absolutely loved this.

Sink or Swim by @moonbeambucky

Summary: The feelings you harbor for your best friend comes to life after a break up, but will you lose everything once he learns the truth? Bucky x reader.

Lost & Found by @tropicalcap

Summary: After your latest stint at rehab, Tony and Pepper offer their place until you get back on your feet. Their place, filled with superheroes who might very well become your best friends. Their place where you meet Steve Rogers, who never seems to sleep, and has wonderful taste in snack foods. Steve Rogers x reader. Ongoing series. ---- I love everything about this series!!! I was hooked from the very first chapter!

Valentine’s Day, 11:07pm by @marvelmom

Summary: Time is slipping away as you wait for Bucky to return home from a mission so you can celebrate Valentine’s Day. Bucky x reader.

Blind by @rogue-barnes-16

Summary: Steve brought Bucky to the compound for him to join the Avengers. While some of them welcome him with smiles, others prefer to judge him for his past. But, could that change?

Untitled by @angelkurenai

Summary: Imagine Michael wanting to break Dean by showing him that you, his hunting partner and ex, are in a relationship with Sam. Even though Dean is still in love with you. Sam x reader. Past Dean x reader. ---- Oh man...even though I understand that she has every right to move on and start over, I cant even imagine the betrayal. Nothing will ever be the same between these two and its gonna cause some series trust issues with Sam. Even if he is Dean’s ride or die, till the end of the line and all that, this is gonna damage their relationship, subconsciously or not.

Vicious Circle by @redgillan

Summary: AU where when someone meets their soulmate a mark appears on their left ring finger. It grows into a line as they spend time with their soulmate until the circle is compete. Bucky x reader. ---- Yeah this was incredibly rude and uncalled for. I have NEVER read a soulmate AU like this and I LOVED it. Oh my god, what kind of sick, twisted soulmate thing is this?!?! What kind of universe comes up with something like that and thinks thats the way soulmates should work!?!?

Strangers in the Night by @redgillan

Summary: You’re on a date, but things aren't going so well. You find refuge in the restroom where you meet a man who’s also having a bad night. Together, you make an escape plan. Bucky x reader.

His Golden Girl by @interestedbystanderwrites

Summary: Inspired by the 2018 Golden Globes. Sebastian Stan x reader. Completed Two part miniseries. Smut.

Notice by @writemarvelousthings

Summary: Based off Notice by Little Mix. Steve Rogers x reader. ---- Oh my god i loved this so much. Steve is such a little bitch!!!! I can’t even imagine how stupid and insecure he made her feel 😭 I really liked how you wrote this! Usually when someone in the relationship is being distant in fics, it’s like he’s never around and maybe blowing her off to hang out with someone else or kinda ignoring her throughout the day, acting like nothings wrong (and there’s nothing wrong with those fics! I love them!) but the way you wrote it is so much worse!! He apparently doesn’t realize he’s doing it and he’s just being clueless but she feels alone in her own home and the places she should be comfortable and the fact that Nat and Bucky are concerned?? Oh my god it breaks my heart.

Make You Squirm by @piscesbarnes

Summary: Bucky lets you try a fantasy of yours with him. Bucky x reader. Smut.

Tease by @piscesbarnes

Summary: After accidentally sending Bucky a nude, he finds you more desirable than he did before. The problem? You two weren’t the bestest of friends. Bucky x reader. Smut.

How We Met by @revengingbarnes

Summary: “I can't believe we’ll have to tell how kids how we met and that’ll be the story”. Bucky x reader.

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emotionally-imbruised · 6 years ago

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To Fall In Love Again: Chapter One

Chapter song: Untitled by Simple Plan

A small shiver takes over her body as she watches the small cloud that forms from her warm breath meeting the cool evening air; observing the two elements dance with one another once they make contact before disappearing shortly after. She hasn’t been waiting outside long, but with the rainy weather that’s loomed the sky over London for the last 24 hours and with the way strong breezes aggressively whip her hair all over the place — it feels much longer and has her wondering where Harry had gone to… that is until his all too familiar voice speaks up from her right. “Ready to go?”

With a soft gasp at the sudden presence beside her, Zoe knowingly flutters her glance upwards to look at the source of the noise; seeing her longtime boyfriend er- fiancé, smiling down at her. The grin that stretches across his mouth is contagious and causes a similar one to slowly make its way onto her lips as well. She hums in response and nods her head before letting out a subtle yawn, allowing Harry to loop their arms together as he leads them towards their awaiting vehicle.

Five years. It’s been five amazing years since Harry drunkenly admitted to Zoe at a party that despite their frenemy like relationship they had for almost a year, he was quite smitten by her and failed miserably at trying to ask her on a date. Little did he know the feeling was mutual and despite her shutting down his drunken demeanor that night, she would proceed to ask him if he’d like to join her for coffee the morning after; that of which he took her up on and their relationship began to blossom soon after. Five years later and they’re still going strong.

These two have been through a lot together, and are more than ready for what’s to come.

With his million-dollar smile and a nod to the valet as he hands the young college aged boy a ruffled bill for retrieving their car, Harry flashes her his signature wink as they continue towards the awaiting SUV. The light rain that clouded the sky for the majority of this typical spring day has now begun down pouring, creating an overall gloomy setting for the remainder of the evening; however, Harry is determined to not let that foil any of his plans.

With it being their anniversary and all, Harry had gone out of his way to plan a special day for the two of them. It consisted of sleeping in, only to wake up to some serious morning cuddles; followed by the making of breakfast together… which ultimately ended in a food fight, and eventually some shopping. This was all before the day had faded into the evening; where the two shared a very romantic dinner and are now headed home to share a bottle of wine, with the plans of allowing the remainder of the night go wherever it takes them.

What made such a simple day so significant for them is that they are simply each other’s person, and there’s no doubt about it. The love that has developed between them is undeniable, and it was even showcased to everyone over these past holidays when Harry surprised Zoe with a ring while knelt down on one knee — asking for her to be his forever opponent in scrabble and person to be by his side in everything that he did from then on; which, of course, she happily agreed to.

As he walks her around to the passenger side of the vehicle, he presses a quick kiss to the side of her head before silently opening the door and helping her in.

Zoe can’t help but feel the familiar swelling of love and admiration she has for this man as she watches him quickly rush back around to the driver’s side of the car so they can begin the drive home; causing her to smile as pleasant thoughts slowly begin filling her mind. These past few years together have been the perfect build up for what’s to come this upcoming autumn when they both agree to be each other’s forever person, and she simply cannot wait to spend the rest of her life with the man who’s sending her another cheeky wink as he climbs into his seat and begins driving off.

The majority of the ride home is spent in comfortable silence, and neither of them really make a move to change that. Zoe stares out the window at the water pellets that continue hitting the glass and allows her mind to start wandering. Harry notices her slowly getting lost in her thoughts and smiles to himself as he faces forward again to continue observing the road ahead of him; rhythmically tapping his thumbs against the steering wheel as a Led Zeppelin song starts softly playing from the radio.

He watches the windshield wipers work fast to push away the rain as he notices the lights ahead changing, and begins slowing down. The slight movement from her to his left catches his attention as he comes to a stop at the red light, and looks over to see that she’s shifted into a more comfortable position. She sends him a sleepy smile before reaching her hand towards him to hold onto.

“Thank you for today H,” Zoe speaks up softly as Harry links their hands together and rubs his thumb gently over her knuckles.

“My pleasure love,” he responds and sends her a quick glance before looking back towards the road. “M’glad you’re not sick of me yet.”

“Could never get sick of you. Want to spend the rest of my life with you, yeh twit,” she snaps and causes an eruption of chuckle from him. She stays silent for a moment before shifting again to get a better look at him. Harry can see her nervously chewing on her bottom lip from the corner of his eye and is about to say something, but she beats him to it. “Wouldn’t want myself starting a family with anyone else but you either.”

A not so subtle grin dances over his lips as he glances over at her with raised eyebrows. A family huh? That’s something Harry’s been thinking about a lot lately. The thought of a small bean smiling greatly at him whenever he got home from the studio or whatever he’d done that day that is the perfect mix of him and the woman he loves is absolutely mind blowing to him, but he loves it. He and Zoe have talked about it before — both agreeing that they would like to start a family together, but not until the time was right. So Harry never pushed for it after that however, the thought alone tends to spark something within him. “Glad the feelings mutual. But there’s no need to pressure ourselves about kids Zo. Whenever you’re ready, you know that I’ll be ready as well.”

“I know. I- I’ve actually been thinking of weaning off my birth control and just see what happens after that. I mean, if it takes a little bit that’s fine because we’re only 25 and have our full lives ahead of us... ugh I don’t know.”

Harry can’t help but smirk a little at her dramatics and doesn’t let it show because he fully understands where she’s coming from. He gently pulls her hand towards his lips to place a soft peck onto her knuckles as a comforting gesture. “I’m on board with whatever you’re comfortable with love, we’re in this together.”

The light turns green and Zoe let’s go of his hand to shift her position again as he begins pulling forward. She let’s what he said sink in and starts thinking of everything she and Harry need to do for this wedding on top of just the thought of having a baby, and how a lot of it will be happening very soon. With a gentle nibble on her bottom lip, she sends him a sideways glance before looking right at him and mumbling a soft “Harry?”

He hums in response and glances over at her. His eyes meet hers as he waits for her to continue, but they only hold her gaze for a quick second before something catches his attention and he looks to the window; feeling his breath hitch almost immediately. Outside a bright pair of headlights seem to be getting increasingly closer as they head straight through the intersection towards their car from the opposite direction the two of them are traveling. The painful sound of screeching tires echo in his ears and despite how hard he tries; there just isn’t time for Harry to react before the lights become blinding just as the other vehicle crashes into Zoe’s side of the car, and everything goes black.

A few hours later he slowly comes to his senses alone in a hospital room. His head is pounding and the way his right arm is resting in a sling throws him off a bit, but he couldn’t care less as he begins scrambling out of the hospital bed so he can find out where the hell Zoe is.

“Sir you shouldn’t be standing,” a concerned voice speaks up from the doorway and his gaze moves to meet that of a nurse — who wastes no time in entering the room in attempts to try to get him to sit back down.

“Zoe,” he mumbles, and the nurse looks at him questionably. “T-they brought me here with a woman. Where is she? Is she ok?”

The nurses firm features soften at the mention of this before letting out a sigh and glancing away from him. “Miss Clarke is… awake.”

“Where is she?” He asks desperately and moves around her — making a quick b-line for the door.

“No, you can’t go see her yet. You need to rest,” the nurse pleads and continues trying to stop him, but is unsuccessful as he takes a sharp left and starts heading down the hallway. “She-.”

“I don’t care about me. I need to see her.”

He continues down the hall with purpose, determined to find Zoe if it’s the last thing he does. However, it doesn’t take him long for only a couple doors down from where he’d woken up, her voice can be heard sounding rather panicked. Without any hesitation he rushes towards the commotion before coming to a complete stop in the open doorway, instantly feeling his heart drop to the pit of his stomach once he sees her.

She’s sat up in the hospital bed — covered in multiple bandages that attempt to conceal the various cuts and marks that litter her skin; the most noticeable being the large piece of gauze that is wrapped around her head which also allows him to take in the other small scratches and black eye that now cover her pretty face. Her gaze meets his as soon as he comes into view, but soon snaps back to the nurse who’s desperately telling her not to move so much as she tries to adjust some of the bandages.

Harry’s never felt his heart break so much as he watches Zoe stressfully plead with the nurse to just give her some space, and once she closes her eyes out of frustration, shaking her head as the tears start flooding out, he just can’t take anymore. With a deep breath, he takes a few long strides further into the room and gains her attention yet again. The way she looks at him so blankly throws him off a bit, but he tries to not think about it as he shakes his head and starts pleading. “Zoe, love, they’re just trying to help you. Please let them.”

A moment passes, and she continues silently staring at him with an empty gaze. He doesn’t know what else to say, so without any other words he allows his feet to shuffle across the floor until he’s at the side of her bed. With a sad smile, he reaches out to grab hold of your hand so he can rub his thumb over her knuckles like he always does as a gesture to give a sense of comfort to her as well as himself but when she flinches away from his touch, it catches him completely off guard. His eyes widen and look at her incredulously as he convinces himself she didn’t mean to move away as if she was scared of him — but when his eyes meet hers and he’s met with the panic alarm that dances across them, he’s still unable to prepare himself for when her scratchy voice asks a heart shattering, and earth rattling question. “W-who are you?”

◆

“What do you mean she doesn’t remember?” Harry questions as he paces in the hallway outside of Zoe’s hospital room, nervously tugging at his curls with his free hand as he does so. The doctor and two male nurses that entered the room out of nowhere just to pull him from it stare at him and wait until he lets out a sigh of defeat, before leaning against the wall and sliding down it until he hits the floor with a thud.

“Miss Clarke-.”

“Zoe, her name is Zoe,” he corrects the doctor as he stares straight ahead of him, not making eye contact with any of the people who watch him.

“Zoe,” the doctor speaks up again as she watches him carefully. “Suffered quite a bit of head trauma in the accident Mr. Styles. It’s a miracle that she’s even awake right now. However, as a result of this, she seems to have developed a type of amnesia. We don’t know the severity of it for she has been rather anxious since she woke up. As of right now, rest will be the best treatment for her.”

“And what am I supposed to do, just sit here and hope she remembers who I am? Try to convince her I’m not some stranger, that I’m-,” he cuts himself off when the sob he’d been trying so hard to suppress finally escapes. “She’s got to remember… she- we’re supposed to get married.”

The doctor looks down at him sympathetically before looking to the two nurses and nodding, silently dismissing them so she can talk to Harry alone. He still doesn’t make eye contact with her as he lets out numerous shaky breaths and leans his head back against the wall. With caution, the doctor slowly crouches down until she’s eye level with Harry and speaks up again. “You can help her you know?”

This catches his attention and he soon snaps his gaze to hers as he lets out another breath. “How so?”

“Well based off what I’ve seen and know, I think it’s safe to say that a lot of Zoe’s greatest and fondest memories include you in one way or another,” she starts, and Harry raises an eyebrow at her skeptically. “I’ve also picked up on how she doesn’t have any family here in London, when she’s released from the hospital, she’ll have nowhere to go but with you. It may take a little bit to prepare her for that, but when you are both released, use that time to show her about her life with you. The little things, the big things, whatever you think could possibly help her remember even the slightest bit of anything from the past six years of her life, it’ll be a great start to helping get her memory back if that’s something we’re able to do. It’s going to require some time and patience though Harry, do you think you can do that?”

He lets her words sink in before shutting his eyes and slowly nodding his head. “Of course.”

“Perfect,” she replies and stands up straight again. “Now, she’s not the only one who needs to heal either. You need rest as well, that sprained shoulder isn’t going to heal itself if you don’t let it. Why don’t you head back to your room and a nurse will come check on you shortly? If you have any more questions at all, just ask for Doctor Lang; I’m the doctor looking after the two of you.” With a curt nod and hum in response, Harry slowly stands back up from the ground and shuffles down the hallway; ready to get some rest after the worst day of his life.

◆

The next morning, sunlight shines through the thin curtains that cover the hospital room window; and Harry slowly allows his eyes to flutter open. A subtle throbbing in his head makes itself known as he lets out a groan and jumps a bit when he’s met with a timid presence standing in his doorway.

“I’m so sorry,” Zoe mutters and steps backwards, gasping when her shoulder comes in contact with the doorframe. Her face reddens as she steadies herself and starts looking around the room at anything but Harry’s eyes. While struggling to form a sentence out of the words she’s desperately trying to say, Zoe can feel her heart start pounding in her chest and has to take a breath to calm herself down. “I-I didn’t mean to stare, it’s just that the nurses told me you and I know each other somehow so, I thought if I really looked at you, I’d recognize you… but I don’t remember and I’m trying to, I really am, but I don’t know how and-.”

“Hey hey hey, it’s ok. It’s ok,” he speaks up quickly but softly as he sees just how flustered she is becoming and moves as fast as his feet let him, so he can be by her side. He instinctively grabs her hands and gives them a little squeeze, but when she just stares back at him with wide eyes; he knows maybe he shouldn’t do such a gesture. With a heavy sigh he lets go of her hands and allows his to fall to his sides awkwardly. He hates this. He wants nothing more than to just pull her against his chest and hug her tightly — whispering how everything was going to be ok, all while minding the bandages and now scabbed over scratches that still cover her skin. The way she stares back at him without the usual glint of excitement that’s there whenever she sees him breaks his heart, and he slowly has to look away from her as it becomes too much before speaking up again. “I- uhm, m’Harry.”

“That’s what I’ve been told. I’m Zoe, which I guess you already know,” she tells him with a slight smile, and he nods in agreement. She shuffles awkwardly on her feet while biting down on her lip nervously and shyly glancing away from him. Slowly, she allows her gaze to fall back on him and although she’s feeling rather nervous about conversing with this stranger, there’s just something about him that feels familiar — almost as if it’s a giant magnet pulling her towards him. “I just- I feel like I know you, but I’m not sure how... I’m sorry, the nurses said that we were in this accident together and I hit my head pretty bad and that’s why I can’t remember, but it’s really a lot to take in.”

“It is,” he agrees and lets out a soft breath. “What exactly do you remember?”

“I remember everything up to when I moved to London. I had transferred schools to finish up my last years of college, and I was desperately trying to find an internship with a photographer because that’s all I wanted to do was photography; but I also remember getting into modelling and fashion in order to do that. Dr. Lang told me all of that happened over six and a half years ago, and if I think about it; everything from then until now is just a blur. Then there’s you. There’s something about you that is so familiar, and I recognize your face from somewhere but-.” Her words are cut off when two loud gasps sound from behind her, and she slowly turns around to see two mysterious women stand in the doorway.

Harry’s eyes widen when he looks from you to his mother Anne and sister Gemma, who both waste no time in barging into the room and engulfing the two of them in hugs. “We’re so glad you’re both ok,” they say in unison.

The surprised and panicked look that’s written across Zoe’s face as she awkwardly lets Harry’s mum and sister hug her doesn’t go unnoticed by H, and he can feel his heart wrench at the sight. He steps towards Zoe and her wide gaze instantly snaps to his as it screams volumes to him. With a slight gulp, he speaks up calmly. “Zo, this is my mum Anne, and sister Gemma.”

“Oh, it’s nice to meet you both,” she replies innocently, which causes Harry to bite down on his bottom lip and close his eyes as he knows this is going to get a rise out of his family. After a quick moment he slowly opens one eye and eventually the other to see Anne and Gemma looking at Zoe oddly. They glance at each other and finally back to Harry, raising their eyebrows in question. He notices Zoe nervously shift from one foot to another out of the corner of his eye, before she timidly pushes some stray hair away from her face and decides to speak up again. “Uhm, I think I’m going to go back to my room now. The nurses are probably wondering where I am.”

“No Zoe, wait,” Harry calls after her, but she’s already disappeared out the door. With a loud sigh as his shoulders slump, he stares at the now empty doorway until Gemma steps into his line of sight.

“Nice to meet us? What did she mean by nice to meet us, Harry?”

With another huff, Harry looks between his sister and mum before shaking his head slightly. “Zoe hit her head pretty bad in the crash a-and she doesn’t remember me, or anything over the past few years for that matter.”

“No,” Anne gasps and looks to her son with tear pricked eyes. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”

“Oh my god,” Gemma whispers to herself before engulfing her brother into another hug. When she pulls away, she subtly tries to wipe away the tears that have escaped her eyes as well and Harry feels as if he could throw up. “What about you, hmm? Are you alright?”

He sends her a soft smile and nods while gesturing to his body. “Pretty banged up, but I’ll live.”

“God, I’m so glad you’re ok,” Anne speaks up again as she pulls him in for another hug as well, making sure to not hit his slung up shoulder too much.

“It’s a miracle that you and Miss Clarke were able to walk away from that crash,” a voice says from the doorway, and the three all turn to see Dr. Lang standing there. “The paramedics called to the scene last night didn’t know what they were getting into when they saw how bad the wreckage was, but the two of you both have woken up and been walking faster than any of us could have ever anticipated. Zoe’s head trauma and your sprained shoulder is the worst to come out it all, it’s truly amazing.”

“Still pretty shitty,” he mumbles to himself with a deep breath, but his mother and sister give him a knowing look. “What about the person who hit us?”

“The man driving the other vehicle received minor injuries,” Dr. Lang continues. “However, it was determined that he was indeed over the legal limit of alcohol consumption during the time of the crash and has already been picked up by the police.”

The thoughts of how this situation could’ve ended worse than it already is creep into Harry’s mind, and he grits his teeth at them. Why them? Why did it have to be the absolute love of his life that couldn’t remember him. Not that he’d ever wish this upon anyone, but his heart aches at the thought of him and Zoe. He wants nothing more than to pull her into his arms in the tightest most loving hug he could ever give before the two of them head home and continue on with their lives together, but he can’t. She doesn’t know who he is.

He doesn’t realize he’s started crying until he notices all eyes are on him now, and everyone is looking at him with looks sorrow and regret, but he doesn’t want their pity. He wants his fiancé back, and he’s determined to help her remember regardless of how long it takes. With a shaky breath and the subtle straightening out of his posture, Harry wipes the tears away and glances around at everyone. “So what are the next steps?”

“We’ve done all that we can in regards of taking care of you and Zoe thus far so the two of you can be released from the hospital this evening,” Dr. Lang explains and lets out a sigh. “I have physiotherapist I can recommend in regards of your shoulder, but it should be healed in a couple of weeks. Zoe however, I’m going to need Zoe to come back and see me at least once a week. I’m going to help as much as I can in helping her remember, and he head injury recovery should be tracked. But Harry, there is a big issue in regards of all of this.”

“And what is that?”

“When the two of you were brought in last night, we had to run background checks to determine who you both were. In that we saw everything in regards of Zoe’s father and his passing, for all she knows Mr. Styles, Mr. Clarke is still alive and well back home. She needs to be told about this.”

“No,” Harry responds and shakes her head at the doctor. “That- that was a terrible year of Zoe’s life, we can’t just make her go through that again. It’ll break her.”

“But we can’t let her go on assuming her life prior to meeting you is unfazed because it isn’t,” Dr. Lang states firmly and Harry let’s out a sigh of defeat. “As much as I hate saying something like this, it is the truth — being faced with such a traumatic experience could very well help her remember.”

He closes his eyes at the thought and takes another deep breath, feeling his mum rub his uninjured shoulder soothingly, but being too anxious to care. Dr. Lang is a professional and he can’t argue with that, but the thought of Zoe during the time of her father’s death is enough to break him as well — but if it’s something that possibly help in getting his Zoe back, it’s something he definitely needs to consider. He glances at his mum and sister before looking back to Dr. Lang and nodding his head. “Ok. But let me be the one to tell her, please.”

◆

Later that day after Anne and Gemma had both gone home, and Harry made a call to his manager and close friend Jeff about everything that has happened in the last 24 hours; him and Zoe are finally being released from the hospital and can go home.

Harry glances down at his phone to see a text from Jeff saying the driver on the way to pick him and Zoe up should be there in about 10 minutes. He goes to respond to the message, but the quiet sound of someone clearing their throat behind him captures his attention instead and he turns to face them. Zoe is standing in the doorway of his hospital room again, but this time she’s looking a bit flustered. He approaches her cautiously, but isn’t prepared for the emotions she’s trying so hard to contain. “Uh hey Zoe…”

“Apparently I’m going home with you,” she starts and shakes her head as if trying to comprehend what’s going on. “Because we live together… because we’re engaged.”

“Zo-.”

“When the hell did I get engaged?” She cuts him off and begins pacing. “I’m sorry, please don’t take this the wrong way but this- I can’t be engaged. Especially to you of all people, that’s insane.”

“What do you mean?”

“I- I knew I recognized you from somewhere so I asked one of the nurses what your full name was... You’re Harry Styles. Harry Styles as in one of the five guys that make up one of the biggest boy-bands ever and in some miraculous way, knows me. I can’t do this, oh my god. You’re this major pop star engaged to me. Me? Of all people... that- I’m going crazy aren’t I?”

“Woah, hey, it’s alright, there’s no need to get upset,” he pleads with her and moves so he can place his left hand on her shoulder to keep her from pacing. Her stunning blue eyes look at him with panic, but they soften the slightest bit as soon as they meet his green ones. A strand of her light brown hair falls in front of her face and Harry delicately tucks it behind her ear before continuing. “A lot has happened in the last six years Zoe. I was there for the majority of it and if you let me, I’ll gladly tell you all about it. I know it’s hard to even think about right now but I love you more than anything, and if you have any questions, I promise to answer them and maybe it’ll even help you remember. But in order for that to happen — you need to know that I mean you no harm. We’re in this together. Can you trust me enough to believe that?”

She continues staring at him for a moment; allowing his words to process in her mind completely before nodding. “I don’t know why because I don’t know you, but yes. I trust you.”

Harry’s never felt such a wave of relief was over him, and the smile that stretches across his face is enough for the world to know that’s exactly what he’s feeling. He doesn’t move from his position so close to her and she makes no indication to move from it either, which has his heart doing a bit of a flip.

This is where it starts. His mission to get Zoe to remember has commenced and he will do all that he can to make her fall in love with him again. He can’t even stand the thought of this not working out in his favour but he has no choice but to leave that up to fate. With another sigh, he straightens himself out and lets his hand slide off her shoulder. “Perfect. Let’s get you home then, and after a night of rest we can talk about anything you want.”

#welcome to my first Tumblr oc #I love her v much and hope you do too #harry styles #harry #one direction #harry styles fanfiction #one direction fanfiction #harry styles imagine #styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #angst #harry styles imagines #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x oc #to fall in love again #1dff

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chocolate-parfait · 5 years ago

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Masamune - <Untitled> (angst)

It was 4 in the afternoon and the sun was still high in the sky.

The waves of heat were oppressing and suffocating as the static and monotonous sing of the cicadas reigned unchallenged above all sounds.

The big bushes of yellow chrysanthemums were almost as blinding as the sun, beaming with what seemed to be a glow of their own. Their sweet and strong fragrance dancing in the air freely and tirelessly.

However the smell of flowers was not the only one that the wind carried around the garden. There was another one, more pungent, more uncommon, and with a metallic and yet sweet aroma. It was the one of blood.

The odor came from the body lying on the ground, tightly held between a pair of two strong arms. Masamune's.

The poor man couldn't think. He had barely even processed what had happened just a couple of seconds ago, be it from the summer heat or from the shock. He couldn't even move. He had turned to stone.

It looked like a painting perfect to be hanged on a wall of some important museum. The dazzling flowers that acted as a frame and, at the center of it all, two lovers separated by the cold and cruel fate.

Everything was still for exception of the red puddle that was quickly spreading through the blades of grass and the frantically running of the castle's retainers.

How ironic! The fierce Date Masamune, that never stopped for anything nor anyone was now crumbling to pieces as the love of his life slowly and inevitably fell into a deep slumber. As the numbness started to take ahold of his body, strong emotions started to fill his insides. From head to toe and throughout his soul, a mix of desperation, fury, loss and betrayal painted his soul in a myriad of colors.

Nevertheless, he didn't cry. He didn't couldn't bring himself to. He couldn't even blink, almost as if he was trying to impress that scene into his memory, to never forget it.

Just moments ago she was excitedly running towards him, a bouquet of flowers in hand and eyes sparkling with joy. Then, a loud noise echoed through the whole garden, tearing the happy atmosphere to shreds.

The colorful assortment of flowers fell to the ground along with its owner. The woman's white kimono was now soaked with the blood that was rapidly staining everything around them. The blow so precise she stopped breathing almost immediately.

What a pity.

Much more memories could've been made and even more laughters could've filled the air... but just for a second of distraction, just for a single blow, everything was gone. Like a candle that goes out in the wind.

Whoever shot that blow probably didn't care about being chased, locked up and then painfully killed. Nonetheless they did it anyways. They were painfully aware if the consequences of their actions but they were ready to do most likely anything in order to hurt the woman held so dear by Masamune, or the warlord himself.

But now all of this didn't matter. What was important was that the love of his life, the cause of his happiness was now leaving him forever.

Only a miracle could've saved her, but it never came.

And so once again, he was left behind.

He was alone. He was hurt. He was shivering with longing for a future that would never come yet felt completely empty inside.

And he would've been so, until the day Death itself would've come to take his last breath away.

#date masamune #ikesen scenarios #ikesen imagines #ikemen sengoku #the second half is a bit sloppy cuz tumblr decided not to save what I wrote earlier so #my writing

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loveerinn · 5 years ago

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another one ig. a poem from earlier this year. a little more raw. incredibly angry. someone told me the poems I spend the least time trying to perfect are by best ones. I disagree. But ... Date & Time: Unknown.

Untitled.

until you can sit down and say that a boy could scold you and tell you how to be who you were

don’t speak to me

close the lips of vixen, a prey lethal to the touch of a fake

that’s how he thinks of you

have you ever stopped and asked yourself the need for intricately weaving a fabric of patterns mismatched into our drapes

how he didn’t belong and let us go along believe WE were misplaced

but wait no that’s not you that’s me... and fuck the notion of overzealous anxiety

yea she speaks to me but at this point we’re not friends

it’s a toxic relationship i care to keep cause she’s the only one that’ll make amends

with buildings and bridges in my psyche

it’s psychology in that she’s providing me epiphany

cautiousness, for threats like you

she makes you question every thing you thought you knew

and we’re tied. bound together but ive been in worse

it’s funny to feel like all our social interactions are cursed

damn, aren’t you glad i said respect your wishes?

that i didn’t flinch or show you tears over the thought of some stupid kisses

i mean the ones that you had, don’t front you little shit

acting like some part of your mind didn’t also think see and feel it

but he was new and fresh and safe and fuck the person that always stayed

lol stayed ..? no i left with tandrums and whiny uproars

on deaf ears, that always went ignored

and can you imagine the actual novel

there i was taking an apology, but you made me feel like i groveled?

how do you say “i’m sorry”

“but this is why i did it”

explanations are one thing, but your lack of decision was truly committed

ironic isn’t it that you could latch onto the things with no answers

maybe i’m the dumbass for thinking you’d wake tf up any faster

we were a design in the making not yet finished

and you just let him keep taking the cloth, the patterns, ... the important parts of our fabric

& yes there’s jealous

shits and tons honestly.

you needa calibrate the intricate working of the problem

that you say you knew me as “green”

but didn’t know other colors on the palette

of my tongue, dying to speak rubbing on the roof and the lines of my gum

numing on my lips til i bleed

concede in the reality that you didn’t know, couldn’t see in front of your eyes

not surreal is it, that you were rainbow blind

colors in the soul of a being that’s been left behind

you left me behind

and yea i was jealous

you weren’t mine but i was my own territory to overcome

and you loved the traits of me in him, when i was a spirit that you knew none

i a being that knows none, and i had to find my definition in a boy

who didn’t hinder his diction

in trying to reflect with his bullshit benedictions

man, but i was “blessed” to listen to tripe and trip

of a boy who toyed with my seasons

use to tell me what i needed to fix and “the reasons”™️

and the weathers of my body couldn’t take it

i was hot like the musk of a summer i knew not

knew not the warmth and pleasantries of spring

you left my whole body, winter freezing

and the leaves of my trees falling on the ground like wisps

a friend that reminds you of bullies that use to torment on your lisp

fuck in all actual, I wish I had the voice to tell him to “suck a dick “

but that would contradict the level of softness i’m trying to build

but also break me cause it’s the texture of my soul that’s complacent

to the way you make me feel and-

sigh. i knew i started to feel off when you two were suddenly chummy

it’s kinda funny, that you laughed at my worry of him taking you from me

no actually that’s comedy

you left and made a choice, so he didn’t really do that did he?

do you know how it makes me feel

when you defend the honor of a boy who took away the only for me that felt real

and we’re not friends!

so it doesn’t matter

that i troubled myself with questions of your actions and “what if i chased her”

but you didn’t catch me

however i wasn’t running, actually

casually, aware of the fact you don’t seem to care

and i could be the grand prize but you wouldn’t play the game

what is it about a boy that’s similar to me in so many same..

blame ... “on me or you?”, i ask myself this same bullshit everyday

how do you get through, not being able to make your own favorite thing stay

how do you not ruin the ruins that are left over in new construction

careful for the eruption, that is me losing my mind

it’s fucking 3:03 pm and i’m not fucking alright

maybe i can’t be alone

cause too long, gets me in my head and thoughts

the sheer comedic tragedy of that statement on me isn’t lost

i admit

he became the garbage for disposal of my feeling

but you didn’t even seem to realize that all the WASTE was built from his leavings

and yours don’t forget you were a piece that did crap too

i can’t even speak out loud the way you made me feel and what that made me do

you ever realize emotions are draining? might as well call them toxic

not a waste of time, i’m sure they stand for something, but they just add conflict

i’m home sick. for a place i haven’t inhabited called security

don’t play with me, confidence is constantly lacking

i’m homeless. in a figure sense

there was a time it was literal and even then i didn’t even get so obsessed

with the living space of a place i haven’t inhabit,

say this so much i may as well patent it

I’m homesick . all the time. that’s all there is to that so i’ll just leave that & drop this rhyme

you use to tell me i made him feel bad aww shucks

poor baby oh that’s his luck

being bullied, but that girl that suffered his ministrations

don’t expect demonstration. from you? he hid his administrations

maybe i’m over dramatic

but there’s this picture that opened everything in my attic

i’m an addict to the taste of destruction

i’m high off your lack of love and

I’m just aware of hospital, a temple, a body, ignoring its sickness

if i were to ever give you this.... just remember ... this is my reality not my way of a “diss”

i feel stagnant but the history shows i’m growing

it’s funny i don’t think i ever HAVE to project the things both you and i be knowing

unlike the one that will capitalize on the facts that he’s changed

but to mute, you need to be aware of your past and future stage

as in the times you were different and supposedly brand new

head so damn big, missing

the point that cuts straight through..

it cuts me

can’t you see that

that his misgivings breed reactions

and

can’t you see me ripping and dripping

and my voice calling

fuck damn there goes my heart sprawling

on floor

and you step on it so who are you ... either of you, to implore that you ‘loved’ me

bitch, bite me

and mind you it’s not dead

my hearts alive still beating

lifeless only from the feeling the pressure of a heeling

bounded to death, trying to heal from the fatal steel from irony

lol ... to think it’s my real laughter and ability to love you’ve stolen from me

how did you take it considering you dont do that

god i’d fight through hell and hire waters and you especially ... to get it back

god i hate even listening to me

ever been so aware of what it could be

should be oh goodie

there she goes again ‘nother long stupid poem from me

••

It’s crazy... a long time ago I thought about giving this to the person it was intended for... I even wrote it in the poem. Letting them feel how much I was hurt everything I was feeling. I talked myself into thinking they wouldn’t care anyways. Or they wouldn’t wanna hear it. Or they’d take it wrong and it’d make it worse. Or they wouldn’t understand my feelings... or any of it. So I never gave it to her.

Now I wonder if it would’ve changed anything. sigh. probably not. who knows.

Loveee Erin

#love erin #talking with erin #talks w eri #personal #letters for me #quirks #me #my quirks #me quirks #my thoughts kill me #sigh #poetry #breed sad poems #heartbreak #old poem

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rt8815 · 5 years ago

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Mamihlapinatapai

This follows my Untitled: “Last Gasp” Inspired piece from last year, so it’s set in mid March-ish 2018. It also fills the “Mutual Pining” square on my CM Bingo card.

WC: Almost 1,900

Notes: Taylor and Jaime are two of McKinley’s bandmates. They will appear in an earlier set fic that I haven’t finished yet 😏

Mamihlapinatapai is a Yagan (of the Nyungar people) word which means, “the wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start.”

—–

“Congrats, guys!” McKinley exclaimed, raising her glass. “The Dream Team is back together and Barnes has retreated to her office to lick her wounds. All is as it should be.”

“Cheers!” everyone toasted, laughing against their professional judgement.

JJ slid into the seat next to McKinley.

“It feels great to come back home,” Emily sighed, soaking in the sunset view from Rossi’s back yard.

McKinley sipped her Scotch, tapping the table suddenly when something occurred to her.

“Spencer, how ever will you tell your students you’ll no longer be teaching full-time?” Her hand flew to her heart. “Your fan club will be absolutely devastated, poor things,” she smirked, sounding anything but sympathetic.

Spencer almost choked on his wine. “Oh God, no,” he started, but just then Garcia joined them at the table.

“What’s this about fan club stuff? Are you planning costumes for a convention?” she asked.

Spencer buried his face in his hands and grumbled something that sounded like ‘piece of meat.’

McKinley stole a bit of Penelope’s Mai-tai before continuing. “No cons, Penny, unless you think dozens of shrieking harpies only there to drool over the male lead qualifies as a ‘convention.’”

Emily leaned around JJ. “Well, that piqued my interest. Go on.”

Spencer moaned, his voice muffled behind his palms.

“Nearly one hundred people came to his lecture this week,” McKinley stated. “They’ve become very popular…with the ladies.”

“Wow! Spence, that’s great,” JJ congratulated him, though she had a mischievous gleam in her eye.

“Yeah, Boy Wonder,” Penelope chimed in. “Why the bashfulness?” She’d had a few drinks and was a bit slow on the uptake.

McKinley rolled her eyes. “Penny, bubeleh, most of them weren’t there to learn,” she emphasized, staring pointedly at Spencer.

Penelope started to cotton on. “Oh,” she grinned. “You’re saying that they-”

“Got it baaad, got it baaad, got it baaad. They’re hot for teacher. Ow!”

Emily wolf-whistled as JJ stretched over the table to ruffle Spencer’s hair.

He finally reemerged, his face beet-red, though he appeared annoyed rather than angry.

“Ley, tell us more about these fangirls,” Garcia demanded, bouncing in anticipation. “Give us the deets.”

McKinley glanced at Spencer, who shrugged, apparently resigned to the good-natured ribbing.

“Do y’all remember The Bimbettes from Beauty and the Beast?” she asked, “and the “I Love You Eyelid Girl” from Raiders of the Lost Ark?”

Penelope giggled into her drink. “That bad, huh?”

“Ugh, worse,” groaned McKinley, now buzzed and losing her filter. “Both of those things cranked up to eleven.”

She rested her elbows on the table, imitating everything the students had done. “They weren’ listenin’ to a thang he said. They twirled their hair, got all doe-eyed and constantly ‘Ooohed’ and ‘Aaahed.’ Talk about flirtin’ up a storm. I swear a few of ‘em drooled.”

“You don’t say,” Emily snickered.

“It was disgusting. Those girls made such asses of themselves. I felt bad for ‘em really.”

“Uh-huh,” JJ chuckled, sounding unconvinced.

“No, honestly! They just would not back down. They stalked us through the hallway. I was worried they were gonna eat ‘im alive!” McKinley cried as she fluffed Spencer’s hair. “I had to keep Skindiana Jones here safe.”

“I uh, I don’t recall them stalking us,” Spencer interjected, “and I still don’t understand why women always-”

“Spence, read. the book. we gave you!”

“Seriously! This has happened on so. many. cases.”

“Yeah! Remember Lila Archer?”

McKinley whipped her head around. “Wait, what? Lila Archer the actress?”

“Yeah,” replied JJ. “Lila was a stalking victim 12 years ago. Spence stayed at her house. She pulled him into her pool and they made out.”

“Oh, she’s very pretty. I imagine that must’ve been quite something!”

“Don’t forget all the working ladies who hit on him,” Emily added.

“And the bartender who flirted with him,” slurred Penny.

Spencer shook his head. “Women go for guys like Morgan or Alvez, not me.”

McKinley frowned. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume that right there is false modesty. It’s not though, and that makes me sad.”

“I’m weird.”

“Weird should be a compliment,” McKinley countered.

“I ramble a lot-”

“Some find it endearing.”

“-about things nobody’s interested in.”

“I’m interested…”

But Spencer wasn’t paying attention.

“My hair’s too long…”

“It suits you, Spencer.”

“I dress like an eighty-year-old man.”

McKinley scrunched her face in amusement. “Yeah, like I said the other day, I’m fairly certain the whole tenured professor look is their kink. Face it, Pretty Boy: yer eye candy.”

Spencer grimaced and hoisted himself up from his chair.

“No, don’t go!” McKinley pleaded, loosely grabbing his forearms. “We’ll stop now, right guys?”

“Of course.”

“Sure.”

“Fine, I’ll zip my perfect, rosy lips.”

Spencer eyed them warily before lowering himself back down. As he drained his glass, McKinley resumed her elbows-on-table pose, feigning innocence.

“I do have one question for you though, Doctor.”

He arched an eyebrow. “What might that be?”

McKinley fiddled with his tie, unknotting it. “I’m worried about my grade in your class. T-t-t-teacher, can you see me after school?”

Spencer sputtered, blushing furiously, then jerked his tie out of her hand and stormed off as dignified as possible.

“I think of all the education that I missed,” she called after him, gesturing for the others to join her. They chorused, “But then my homework was never quite like this!”

They all dissolved into fits of laughter, although McKinley’s quickly dissipated.

“Shit, he’s my ride home. That’s gonna be awkward.”

Emily cleared her throat. “So, how long have you been in love with Reid?”

“I – what?” McKinley squeaked. “I’m not in love with Spencer! What gave you that idea?”

“That show you put on just now. Plus, I saw you two on my porch the other day. I have security cameras…with audio,” Emily admitted.

“Anyway, you’ve looked at each other differently for a while now. You act differently towards each other too. Maybe bringing up the lecture is your subconscious telling you that you two have evolved beyond friendship.”

McKinley shook her head. “Emily, we haven’t known each other long enough for that.”

“Granted, five months is fast,” said Tara, who’d slid into the table unnoticed, “but you’ve spent a lot of his sabbatical and regular time outside work together. Simply put? The quality of your and his friendship could well outweigh the length.”

“And the way you talked about those students?” JJ added. “You called them shrieking harpies and you sounded ready to rip them apart. I mean, I believe that they drooled over Spence, but you laid it on kind of thick. Was it all about keeping him safe, or was it also you telling them to back off?”

That had McKinley stumped. She remembered silently mocking the girls’ behavior, and how she smugly whispered, “It’s never gonna happen,” effectively saying Spencer was out of their league. What stood out the most was how she stared them down as she linked arms with him, deriving satisfaction from their…jealousy?

“Did I deliberately taunt them?” McKinley wondered to herself.

She recalled a sensation of hackles raising. There was no polite way to word it.

“I was marking my territory.”

McKinley had a sudden desire to take a shower.

Her feelings had undoubtedly shifted, but she had no frame of reference for them. And that frightened her.

She switched tactics. “Don’t forget that I’m aroace, guys. I don’t experience romantic or sexual attraction.”

Garcia popped up from her phone, where she’d been hunting down the ‘perfect first date venue.’ “You talk a lot about how sexy and pretty guys are, though. I’ve caught you staring at many a tuchus. What’s that about?” she winked.

McKinley cut eyes at her. “I’m asexual, Penny, not blind. I admired the Venus de Milo too, but I didn’t wanna hump it either.”

“Y’know, I used to identify as bi,” Penelope replied. “I was in my late twenties before I knew that I’m pan. It’s only for you to say but, it might be worth considering demi identities.”

That struck a chord with McKinley. It would require a lot of unpacking her emotions, but it was definitely worth considering.

…

Spencer stole glimpses at McKinley as he drove her home. She was drumming a beat on the armrest. He chuckled; she always did that while deep in thought.

Stopping at a light pulled her from her reverie. “Thank you for driving me home,” she said rather meekly.

“You’re welcome. Never take Uber or Lyft.” He coughed nervously. “You know, because it’s not the safest mode of transportation. Half of our cases start that way,” he joked.

McKinley grinned. “You’re an absolute prince for doing this, especially since I’m a rotten friend.”

Spencer’s jaw dropped. “No, you’re not! Is this about the lecture? Because it’s nothing the team hasn’t teased me about before.”

“Yeah, but I shoulda known they’d take the piss,” she whined, kicking her legs grumpily, “and I went too far with the song. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I forgive you,” he assured her as he stepped on the gas. “Although, I’d like to point out that I’ve never once brought up the men who hit on you at bars.”

“True,” McKinley breathed, playing with a loose thread on her blouse. “But that seems to have died down at O’Keeffe’s recently.”

Spencer pressed his lips together, eyes fixed on the road. She eyed him suspiciously.

“You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?” she prodded him.

“Think fast.”

“It’s probably the team’s presence. Most of the regulars know who we are.”

Fortunately, she accepted his suggestion. “Yeah, that’s feasible.”

“Truth is I shoved my credentials in their faces once or twice,”he confessed silently.

“When that doesn’t work, I step between you and them while flashing my revolver, but I’m not owning up to any of that.”

Spencer parked in Taylor and Jaime’s driveway and walked McKinley to her tiny house in the backyard. Boogie bolted out to greet them, tail wagging vigorously.

At her door, she twisted around for a final goodnight, surprised to find Spencer standing so near. He raised his hand and combed his fingers through her hair.

“Cherry blossom,” he explained, showing the pale pink flower in his hand. Spencer reached up again, brushing hair out of her eyes, lingering this time.

McKinley found herself tilting her head into his hand.

“Please don’t stop playing with my hair. Is this what he feels when I play with his? Am I blushing? Is he blushing? What’s that look he’s giving me? Affection? Is that how I look at him? I wish he’d say something. I should say something, but I can’t speak. My heart’s pounding. What’s wrong with me? I never have trouble talking to Spencer. How can someone make me flustered and relaxed at the same time?”

Spencer moved even closer. “Ley, I was wondering -”

“Bork!”

They sprang apart, the spell broken, to see Boogie dancing impatiently. He jumped, placing his paws on Spencer’s thighs.

“Hey buddy, I’m not ignoring you,” he promised as he scratched the dog’s ears.

Satisfied, Boogie pushed open the door and stared expectantly at McKinley.

Spencer retreated down the stairs. “I should be going. Good night, Ley,” he said, the slightest note of disappointment in his voice.

“Night, Spencer. Text me when you get home?”

“Always,” he smiled up at her, stepping backwards towards the fence and through the gate.

—–

@illegalcerebral @dreatine @cynbx @cmbingo

Everyone else let me know if you’d like to be tagged in the future!

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x oc #cmbingo19

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elenajohansenauthor · 6 years ago

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Fictober18, Day 9: “You shouldn’t have come here.”

OCs: Shannon and Noah

Project: Untitled paranormal romance for Fictober18, now tagged #spookyromancenovel on my blog

Potential Triggers: none

Word Count: 1,932

About: Shannon gets Noah to help her with the interrupted ritual: progress ensues! [and now i’m only two days behind, I hadn’t written since Monday but I did 3K today, happy Elena is happy]

Noah settled cross-legged on top of my cot, while I sat at my desk. I blew out the candles.

“Hey, you're not going to—I didn't mean to interrupt,” he ended lamely. “Can you still, if I just sit here and be really quiet?”

I could try, but his presence would be distracting anyway. I'd never really been able to forget Noah was in the room with me, ever. Even when we were in class together, I'd known he was there. Even when we were sitting side by side at one of the long library tables, studying silently, I could hear the scratch of his pencil while he took notes, or see pages turning out of the corner of my eye, or simply feel the warmth of his presence. I hadn't known before that skinny guys could put out so much heat. I expected bulky guys to be radiators, but Noah always used to be warm.

I glanced at him, his magical gargoyle bulk further padded out by layers of clothing. He had his hands tucked under his crossed arms. Used to be.

“I have another idea now.” As I spoke, I put everything away except the altar cloth. “You shouldn't have come here, but since you did, you're going to help me.”

It didn't take long to perform the setup again. This time, I chose the first stone, the first candle; I knew their meanings. Noah looked into the box and chose whatever called to him, and I didn't ask him to explain why. I drew the third blind, as I had for the prayer I hadn't gotten to make.

The first stone was still carnelian. Noah chose a smooth, flat piece of snowflake obsidian: balance, inner and outer harmony, and protection of the heart. The final stone turned out to be tiger's eye, which made me smile. Truth-seeking.

Again, I still began with the black candle. Noah chose gold, which often symbolized the sun and male energy. I drew blue, for meditation, communication, and healing.

I left the center empty. I didn't need a picture to focus when I had Noah himself here. If I couldn't ignore him, which I knew I couldn't, then I would use him. “There,” I said as I lit the last candle and shook out the match. “Now stand behind me, put your hands on my shoulders.” The floor boards creaked under his weight, but he did as I asked without comment. He flinched a little when I raised my hands to his, resting them on top, but he didn't pull away.

“What do I do? You know I don't have any actual talent for this--”

“Hush,” I said gently. “You don't need to. And you don't need to do anything except be still and quiet. Try to think positive thoughts, if you can, but don't worry if negative ones show up. I don't imagine you've had a lot of practice meditating.”

“No.” His voice was deep and quiet. “Not my strength.”

It might be something he'd have to develop, a quieter mind, if he did end up a gargoyle. Anxiety and restlessness weren't traits associated with them.

I shoved the thought from my mind. We were going to figure this out, and I already had a plan to handle the worst. Noah was right—in a way, it was a comfort, knowing he could have a peaceful end if all else failed.

But I can't tolerate failure, not when my best friend's life was at stake. I'd already been failing him, slowly but steadily, for three years.

My mind was see-sawing already, good to bad, bad to good, bouncing around without finding the still spot in the middle. I gripped his hands tighter, focusing on their chill instead of pretending it wasn't there.

This close, I could hear his breathing. Perhaps he wouldn't find the inner stillness I aimed for, but he was relaxing, at least. That was something I could do for him, after triggering a surge of protectiveness strong enough to send him across the city to guard me, even inside my private fortress.

The fond tenderness I felt from that melted into a vague worry. Was that all he had left for me? Was that our relationship distilled down, or maybe whittled away, by the curse? He still had anger and fear, but was all our friendship gone under the drive to protect, especially as I was the person who could help him regain himself?

But in those questions came a sort of answer. I was the other thing that made him different, somehow. I was something the curse hadn't taken away from him. He held on to me because I was hope and sanity, his future and his salvation.

I only prayed I was worthy of that trust; there, I found the peace I sought.

After some time—I don't know how long—Noah's hands squeezed my shoulders. “Shannon?”

I came up from the trance slowly, dreamily. “Yeah?”

“Your breathing got so slow, I was worried.”

“I'm fine.” I rolled my head loosely a few times. “How about you?”

He moved away, leaving a cold spot in the air behind me. “Calmer, but...but no mystical revelations or anything.”

“I don't know yet how mystical mine was,” I said with a light laugh. Sometimes, after a ritual, I got giddy. “But I did come up with something. I don't have my notes here, but I suppose I can tape this in.” I searched my junk drawer for a scrap of paper and scribbled the time, date, and place at the top of the blank backside of a political flier someone had stuck on my window. I didn't run a community billboard or anything like that, so I'd taken it down, but I'd forgotten to throw it away.

“What did you see? Or figure out, I mean?”

“It's me. I'm keeping you human.”

“Uh, yeah? I don't remember it or anything, but you did replace my heart with a nifty bit of magic.”

“No, no, it's more than that. I don't know what, yet, but it's not just my Healing efforts, because those never did any lasting good. And that heart is your final defense, but it's not that either.” I swallowed hard and looked up from the paper. “I never told you, because I didn't want to discourage you. But I didn't think you'd make it this long, not three years, and certainly not long enough for me to run out of ideas. The heart was a stop-gap at best. It can't be the only thing preventing the transformation. Maybe it was at first, but something else is going on now.”

“Like what?”

“That's just it. This is a shot in the dark, but it's got something to do with me, even though it's not something I've done. I know that's vague, but can you think of anything on your part? Something you said or did, something to do with me, that could be strong enough to form a spell of its own?”

“Shannon, I'm not magic. I don't have any power, so I couldn't have done anything.” He sounded confused, but also faintly angry.

“You do, though. Now you do. You're almost completely made of magical stone now, and we shouldn't be ignoring that. Gargoyles' powers beyond everything obvious in their physical form aren't well known. Maybe they don't talk because they've got some kind of hive mind, or some telepathy, or something. Maybe they're so relatively inert because the stone gives them longer life spans—it's not like they're going to tell us how old they are! And no one has been able to compile any reasonable kind of census, not even of the population of a single city, because they look so alike and don't respond well to tagging.” More than one scientist had tried and gotten badly wounded for their efforts. “The list of things we don't know about gargoyles is probably long enough for a book or three or ten. So, yeah, maybe you did do something. You didn't grow up with magic, you don't know how to focus or utilize it because you never had to learn. But it's there. With enough intention, magic can do all sorts of things, like, I don't know, when people talk to their plants. It never worked for some people, the plants wouldn't grow, but for others it worked like magic. Because it was, only they didn't know it.”

My whole impassioned speech left me short of breath and more than a little high on my own intensity, but Noah sat there impassively, his brows drawn together to form that sharp little crease of worry. “I just don't know. I don't know what I could have done.”

He sounded so pained, it brought me right back down to earth. “Okay, Noah, okay. Just, think about it, okay? If you remember something--”

“I promise,” he said instantly. “I'll tell you.”

Our eyes met as we realized what he'd said. “I promise--” he repeated, at the same time I cried “Promise magic!”

“That's a thing, a real thing?”

I smiled at him fondly. “Have you ever broken a promise you made to me, all the way back to when we were kids?”

He shook his head with a dazed expression. “Not even when Jimmy Olvestad hassled me for three weeks to find out if you had a crush on him and finally punched me when I swore I'd never tell.”

“Jimmy? I never had a crush on Jimmy. Wait, he punched you?” That would have been seventh grade—the Olvestads had moved away just after the school year ended. “I don't remember that at all, you never had a black eye or anything.” I felt faintly sick that I could have forgotten something so major, at least in the life of a kid.

“Um.” Noah cleared his throat. “That's not where he punched me.”

I went to him, hugging his head against my stomach. I couldn't not touch him, just then. “I know it's years too late, but I'm sorry for the pain you suffered defending my honor.” He chuckled into my sweater.

When I drew back, he was smiling. “So all those promises we made over the years—you think that's what's doing it? Because I didn't have any power for most of that time, so unless it's coming from you.”

I sat on the cot beside him, tired out from alternating between giddiness and anxiety. “I really don't know that much about promise magic. Truly unbreakable vows—I've heard stories, and they can backfire in spectacular and usually unpleasant ways. Honestly, the whole idea scares me a little.” Was it my imagination, or did Noah pull back at that, his arm jumping away from mine? “But good news, that's a new avenue to research, and one that won't take me to the Archives. I can do that at a regular, old-fashioned public library. And online,” I added as an afterthought.

“But you like having books in your hands.”

“Yeah, I like smelling them, too. You're a saint to put up with my book-nerd ways.”

Something soft touched my forehead, just near my temple. It was my turn to jump, but beside me, Noah looked happier than I'd seen him since...since the curse really started wearing on him, soon after it had happened. “Your book-nerd ways have been saving my life,” he said. “Thank you.”

Only then did I realize he'd kissed me.

#writeblr #fictober18 #original fiction #spookyromancenovel #my writing

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leelewishnd2c · 5 years ago

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Edinburgh Exhibition Analysis

Photographer: Francesca Woodman

Photograph Title: Untitled, Providence

Collection: Providence Rhode Island

Date: 1976

1: What Technology is used to make the images? How does it affect your reading of the work?

The technology used was an analogue film camera, the image printed on a gelatin-silver process. This perhaps shines a little light on how the photo was captured. Woodman doesn’t seem to have a lens trigger in the frame, so I can only assume that it’s set on a timer.

2 Describe what you can see and where it is on the image?

Francesca woodman creates a surreal composition, balancing a door awkwardly in an empty room and further positioning herself underneath. Her legs act as a leading line to the door which then expands the viewers eye across the derelict room. The minimalist composition gives a surreal feel to the photograph in addition to a sense of unease.

3 What is the format of the image? Is it portrait, landscape, square? What does this imply?

The square format of the image lends itself to the theory this was shot on 120mm film. One of the perceivable constraints of this format Is the shape, which is square.

4 Consider the composition- Where are things placed within the image?

The composition as mentioned prior is surreal, the subject being Woodman under the door; is placed within an empty room. There is no carpet, the walls are plain, bare and the doorframe is not in view. The frame is all lit naturally by sunlight, through a window with no blinds. It casts a nice but harsh light which creates contrast through shadows.

5 What is included within the frame and what is excluded? What effect does this have?

The main thing which are excluded from the frame are; Woodman’s Torso and the Door frame, this is important to consider as without a doorframe there is no escape. The door on-top of woodman could be easily drawn to stress, perhaps the room is symbolic for a thought process she can’t escape from, as the door is positioned in a way she could easily move from underneath, but doesn’t.

6 What is the photographer’s viewpoint? - is it above, below or equal to the subject? What does this imply? How would the image change if the viewpoint was different?

The is above the subject, if we assume the subject is woodman under the door and not the door itself. However, the Camera is equal to the door. If placed at a lower place in the photo it would emphasise the weight and might of the door on top of Woodman.

If the viewpoint is above, it’d weaken the weight of the door. It’d make everything seem smaller in scale in addition to this.

7 What happened before and after the photograph was taken?

I can only assume that Woodman had to click the shutter release and rush under the door to be in the photograph, there is a slight but subtle motion blur, perhaps she was quite hasty in her approach?

8 What is the light source within the image? Is it natural or artificial? What atmosphere does this create?

The night is natural, from the window on the right of the background. The sun is high due to the angle of the shadow cast and this could be symbolic of time passed in the day, perhaps due to lying under the door for so long. This exhaustion and want to sleep is common in depression and could be symbolic for such.

9 Is the image colour black and white? How does this affect your reading of the image?

If anything, it makes the image more pleasing to look at. It has a lovely tonal range and it looks slightly more melancholic, which is in favour of my above theory.

10 What is the scale of the work? Is it small and intimate or large and dominating?

The work is small and intimate, but the subject gives off a very physically dominating energy. I believe she chose a small room for the shot on purpose.

11 How is the work presented? Is it framed? Hung on the wall? Floor based? Why? What effect does this have?

It is presented a little under eye level, the frame is very large, it takes up the middle square if you can imagine the rule of thirds grid. This gives a strange surreal feeling as much as the photograph. Perhaps belittling the subject under the door even more.

12 Is the work titled? How does the title affect the meaning of the image? What title would you give to the work?

The image has no title, unless it is called untitled. I believe that it is an attempt at letting the viewer decipher the meaning, in the spirit of surrealism. I wouldn’t change the title as I believe it really fits the image.

13 Who might the image have been made by? Why? Who for?

I think the photographer did the process herself due to it being a self-portrait, which she also did herself. Perhaps for a personal collection? It seems that it’d be an awkward gift, a little too surreal.

14 What do you think the artist is trying to say? Have they communicated their ideas effectively?

It paints a picture in the viewers mind, is this conceptual for the crushing responsibilities of being a homeowner? or perhaps it is symbolic for the house-wife culture and the effect it has on a woman’s freedom, hence the door being on-top of her and no door frame in sight. I also mentioned a few ideas above about mentality, but it is open for interpretation as the work is purposely surreal.

15 How does the work made you feel?

Intrigued, the many meanings and possible messages within this image fascinates me. The derelict setting and depressing atmosphere also work in it’s favour.

16 Do you like or Dislike the work? Why?

I love how simplistic yet thought provoking the piece is, seems like it didn’t need a lot to put together. Yet the effect was strongly felt. I can appreciate that in works of art and that’s why I like it.

#creative

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klarkkent71 · 5 years ago

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Trilogy(Complete)

Trilogy-Friends, Partner, Breakup

Trilogy-Friend, Partners, Breakups

Throughout my works, I write and based poems off real-life situation and inspiration from other sources. I sometimes have this ability where I feel I can tap into anyone situation and write about it. I also love creating stories from scenarios that I have run in my head. I have plenty of notebooks full of works and want to publish a few books. The friend series were poems written before the relationship started. I would take this girl out and crush hard but I always play it off like I was not feeling any specific type of way. These poems come from the earlier half of time. From taking this person out on her birthday for hibachi, to experiencing the first kiss, and the phase of just falling for someone. The common theme for every poem is that I think readers could tap into my mind and see the motivation behind every piece

The Friend Series(Part 1)

Crushing

Your smile brightens days

Your eyes are just amazing

Your heart has beautiful ways

My desire to date you is just blazing

1st Kiss

Our eyes connected

We held hands

Our lips become one

I learned what a kiss from heaven felt like

Untitled

I yearn to want to have you close and dig into your mind

A friend of beauty for some reason it’s hard for me to just stay in line.

Every time we out for some reason I’m just getting lost in your eyes

You’re beautiful inside and out and that’s something I quickly realized

The first time we hung out I knew at some point I just couldn’t stay in the zone of friends

But I have to hold off on my true self because I want the happy feeling between us to never end

Career driven and ambition you have all the traits I adore

Hopefully, our future has a lot more in store

Why I like You PT1

Something about your smile that just drive me so wild

Its something about your pure heart that you have the innocence of a child

I can see myself on future dates with you hold hands

I know I say a lot but I can see myself being your man

I see us having a future even though tit’s not love yet

Your beauty is similar to that a million suns and a magnificent sunset

Cross The Line

I wish we werent friend that our lips can become one

I wish I can just open my mouth and share my true feelings

I feel stuck that I had crush this long and closure havent came

Its tough seeing so beautiful and knowing youll probably never have

Maybe years later once were completely apart this something we can laugh about.

Until then I’m in my own lane.

Part 2 covers the phase when things were official. I would be triggered after various events and write for specific incidents. I would get lost in moments and memorize works in my head just so that I can go to the bathroom and type them.

Partners(Part 2)

Kunningham Part 1

You are my best friend and someone who stuck it out with me through thick and thin

When I failed and hung my head your motivation wouldn’t let my ambition end

You pray for me and cook for me and transcend my spirits to a level that sex can never reach

Though far from perfect your are everything that I need

From you I’m learning it is more within , please dont change

Kunningham Part 2

You walked in my life and showed me what love really mean

The fact I get to be your man everyday feeling like a dream

You pray for me and I wouldn’t trade anything we have for the world.

One day I picture us married with a boy and girl

It’s something about your eyes where I fall in them and get lost for the day

You’re religious and believe in God and for us, you pray

You’re also ambitious as hell and Im in love watching you chase all your dreams

I’m beyond blessed and lucky

Untitled

This feeling I have with you I pray always last

You’re in my arms and my entire universe feels complete

I’ve been damaged by love but could care less about the past

Your love is all I need and once have a cold blind heart I can now see.

If love was a physical being it’ll be you

There nothing in this world for you I wouldn’t do

With you, by my side, I feel like I’m living a perfect love scene

And the connection is beyond physical because our connection is as natural as it seems

I get butterflies in my chest when I think of us

I’m cherishing every moment we have

I never knew I can feel so much joy in my life.

Fireworks on South beach

Nothing but fireworks when we come together

I’m asking myself can this life get any better

Life by the beaching and traveling to me was never part of the plan

I’m only a country boy who really only been to Afghanistan

Now my perspective on life has changed

And I have you to thank for such a positive thing

Breakfast on Ocean Drive which I really only seen on cable

I’m still in disbelief we saw Justin Bieber walk across the table

I still remember you just yelling out of joy when it happened.

We even went to KOD to see Soulja boy who had the club in action

The strip wouldn’t let us sleep because everyone did nothing but walk and play tunes

We was taking everything in and barely hanging in the room.

I still laugh from snorkeling and getting pictures in the water

I’m still in shock that I thought the boat was moving the whole time when we were anchored and I thought it was leaving us and going further

The 4th of July you took the best picture at the right angle of time.

Memories with you that I’ll always cherish for a lifetime.

Love(Haiku)

Love is beautiful

Love is what you make me feel

I really love you

Untitled(Haiku)

A heart once shattered

Now it learned to love again

Oh what a feeling

This Breakup Series covers all the time we were broken up from mid relationships to the final one. I remember being ate up throughout the years and this covers various periods of time and events I kept within my notes

Breakup Series(Part 3)

Before the final Breakup

Untitled

No matter what I do I can never get this love thing right

Now I’m up alone crying myself to sleep at night

I know I suck at expressing myself but I never wanted you to quit

Now I’m just here alone feeling like shit

I feel my world was just shattered and burned.

I know heartbreak is constantly in rotation but I didn’t want it to be my turn.

Breakup(Haiku)

What did I do now

I can never get love right

Life somehow goes on

Final Breakups

The Call(Breakup)

I remember getting told that things are over

And I didn’t react because my heart was unattached

No tears or remorse I took it like a Soldier

The heart beats on with afeeling that’ll never be matched

Love Lost PT 1

I was young & dumb and messed up my gift from God

She saw me as truth and I turned out to be a fraud

Its truth in the statement of not cherishing something until its gone

Since you walked out my life I feel all alone

I lost sleep with thoughts of you on my mind

Hoping that you show up in my dream from time to time

I still reminisce on just beyone together and driving and holding hands

I was just stressed from time to time but was happy I was your man

Then October came and that’s when I got the call

It’s over

Untiltled

I’m in a new state, new fate, and my world was just broken and it’s off for good

I’m so numb to life that I can even comprehend what happened

I want to call and talk and my gut is telling me I should

I’m just gone drink all this pain away noting is everlasting even love

My heart is pounding and it’s been two years since we spoke.

I don’t even know if you’ll reply, the past two October I had this feeling where my spirits were broke

I have to express my thoughts and get them out my mind

I know the saying goes that wounds heal over time

I’ve retyped and read this email over and over and have yet to hit send

At times I wish this was just a dream and the situation was just pretend

I’ve prayed for someone like you and messed up in my blessing

I was too caught up in my ways of pride and stressing

Why is saying I’m sorry so hard to do

Why is there feeling that exists where I’m not over you

Why my heart is pounding just to send an email

Why do I have my emotions just bottled into one shell

“Send”

Untitled

I’m trying to apologize to just make peace

I don’t want this feeling of your hating me

3 and half years later I just want to come face to face for closure

But the person I once had isn’t there anymore and I feel like things are hopeless and over

I write to express myself I just want to clear up lies

I was honest and told you that hurt you cause me to lose sleep and didn’t want to see you cry

Any seed of hope can’t grow in bad soil

Now I’m sticking to myself only because any attempt now just makes your blood boil

Bruno Mars has a song I play on repeat titled when I was your man

The first time I heard it we were broken up at the time while watching a movie in Alexandria titled Think Like a Man

In the hook, he spoke nothing but truths and one of the lines that make my heart was just thoughts of us being able to dance

I pray one day we can just sit and have closure and one final chance to just enjoy each other company and end it all with one final farewell dance

May 26

........Peaceful

#poetry blogs

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elizabethvaughns · 3 years ago

Text

fic masterlist: liz-verse

with her, i feel like i belong (920 words, chapters 1/1, G)

josh talks to david about that beautiful woman on the subway.

josh & david, liz/josh mentioned, during canon

untitled lucas/david fluff piece (410 words, chapters 1/1, G)

on his and david's fifth anniversary of being together, lucas arrives home to face…quite a sight. there's a reason why david is banned from the kitchen, after all.

lucas/david, during canon

who'd believe that we two would end up as lovers? (1470 words, chapters 1/1, T)

standing in this bar, waiting for liz (and josh and his friend), lucas finds it all a bit pointless. he may be a little jealous and maybe he didn’t hide it as well as he thought he did (or maybe liz just knows him so well that she can see through all his bullshit). but he doesn’t need a blind date! he can go out and do just fine for himself. and even if he can’t. even if he can’t. it’s not like he needs to. plenty of people have gone through life without ever meeting their soulmate. he can do the same.

—

or after liz finds her soulmate, josh, she sets lucas up on a date with one of josh's friends.

lucas/david, background liz/josh, au, during canon

it must be may (645 words, chapters 1/1)

liz visits josh's grave one spring afternoon.

major character death, liz/josh, mentioned lucas/david and kate/anne, post-canon

we can see the way the pieces work and make it something more (1312 words, chapters 1/1, G)

four months after her divorce from anne, kate runs into her ex-wife at a get-together with friends.

kate/anne, blink and you'll miss it lucas/david, post-canon

a rainy day in (1459 words, chapters 1/1, T)

it's september and the flu season is in full swing. and both lucas and david catch the flu.

lucas/david, mentioned liz/josh, during canon

we live in these collisions (these accidents arise) (2809 words, chapters 1/1, T)

lucas accidentally texts the wrong number when drunk. who knew that one drunk text could go so far?

lucas/david, mentioned liz/josh, during canon

"marry me." (2063 words, chapters 1/1, T)

lucas decides to ask david to marry him. david decides to ask lucas to marry him. both on the same date, at the same place, at...roughly the same time. everything—and yet also somehow nothing—goes wrong.

lucas/david, during canon

he was my best friend (2297 words, chapters 1/1, G)

five vignettes of josh and david's friendship.

major character death. josh & david. background liz/josh, lucas/david. pre-canon, during canon.

late-night musings (tumblr post) (150 words, chapters 1/1, G)

lucas wakes david up late at night with a burning question in mind.

lucas/david. chronology ambiguous, could be during or post canon.

and now we’re finally saying those vows (2513 words, chapters 1/1, T)

a few glimpses at some of the events that occur before and during kate and anne’s wedding.

during canon. liz/josh, lucas/david, kate/anne, beth & kate, beth & lucas, liz & lucas

note: verse alternating with beth-verse.

#fic tag

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micaramel · 5 years ago

Link

Artist: Isa Genzken

Venue: Hauser & Wirth, London

Exhibition Title: Window

Date: February 7 – May 2, 2020

Click here to view slideshow

Full gallery of images, press release and link available after the jump.

Images:

Images courtesy of Hauser & Wirth, London

Press Release:

Window is an exhibition at Hauser & Wirth London by Isa Genzken featuring a new and unseen body of work. Genzken’s immersive environment expands on the themes of travel, through elements of an aircraft cabin, and the window as a juncture between interior and exterior spaces. In this respect, it reveals the artist’s interest in architecture and light, a topic of enduring resonance in her work as seen in the landmark exhibition in Chicago in 1992, Everybody Needs at Least One Window.

Isa Genzken has long been considered one of Germany’s most important and influential contemporary artists. Since the 1970s, Genzken’s multifaceted practice has encompassed sculpture, photography, found-object installation, film, drawing and painting. Her work borrows from the aesthetics of Minimalism, punk culture and assemblage art to confront the conditions of human experience in contemporary society and the uneasy social climate of capitalism. Throughout her fifty-year career, Genzken’s primary focus has always been sculpture, and although her style has remained varied, her work has maintained a striking common thread and internal truth to both her vision and to the works of art themselves.

The exhibition begins with Saal (Room) made in 1989, a concrete sculpture which rises from its stark metal stand like a Brutalist architectural model. Oscillating between construction and destruction, it exists somewhere between fragmented ruin and autonomous space, appraising the lasting influence of modern architecture and its social and cultural implications, while paving the way for the Fenster series that would follow. ‘Fenster’ or ‘Windows’ have long featured in Genzken opus, they are at once open and closed, material and immaterial, transparent and solid. They also give visual form to a central question in the artist’s oeuvre that deals with the relationship between sculpture and space, location and perception, examining the window as a social and architectural connection between interior and exterior.

The centre piece of the exhibition presents dislocated aeroplane parts – windows and seats – that evoke the instability of a global, homogenous society in constant flux and perpetual motion. Hanging from the walls of the gallery Genzken has placed fifteen airplane windows, displayed as if they were paintings, yet they are strangely reminiscent of eyes, the blinds like eyelids open, half open or completely closed. These subvert our understood notion of a window looking out onto the world – here they look back, observing the viewer, turning the voyeur into the view. For Genzken, travel is positive experience which presents the opportunity to view the world from new perspectives. As she said in the past on her use of the window as a tool, ‘The idea is that you open yourself up and find different ways of looking at things; that you have more than one frame of reference for the sculpture.’ [1] Enhancing this new viewpoint, we find a dreamlike countenance pervading the displaced, vacant seats of Untitled (2018), implying an abandoned mode of transport, melancholic remnants which recall the splendour of air travel and the wonders it might bring.

A series of models towards the rear of the gallery showcase how the window motif also features in Genzken’s public sculpture where denied its architectural function, it instead becomes a reflexive means to highlight socio-cultural issues between space, architecture and inhabitant. For instance, Spiegel (1992), conceived to be thirty metres high, is taller than the postmodern Stadthalle Bielefeld it was designed to face. Genzken literally holds a metaphorical mirror to the Stadthalle, asking it to reflect upon itself. The base of the sculpture also serves as a bench or resting place, allowing the participant to stop a moment and look, an often-forgotten activity in today’s fast paced society. Whereas Genzken’s Camera (1990), a private commission positioned on the fifth-floor balcony of an apartment in Brussels, balances precariously framing and capturing a magnificent view, as a camera might do, but as the view is already present the work serves to highlight the absurd.

The exhibition at Savile Row displays how Genzken alters objects and locations with seemingly simple additions or subtractions that are both humorous and subversive, so that witty metaphors arise from the canniest of means, whether these are an airline window or mirror. These economical interventions alter our own perception of what and how we see, so that we can reflect on the space surrounding both the artwork and ourselves. Following the show at Hauser & Wirth London, Kunstmuseum Basel will present a major exhibition opening in June that focuses on the development of the first decade of Genzken’s career, 1973 – 1983, bringing together her Ellipsoids and Hyperbolos to highlight the influence of conceptual and post-minimal approaches in her early forays.

1.) Vietmeier, Melanie: “Everybody Needs at Least One Window: Isa Genzken’s Window Sculptures”, in: “Fresh widow: the window in art since Matisse and Duchamp”, Kunstsammlung Nordrhein-Westfalen, Düsseldorf, 2012, pp. 205

Born in Bad Oldesloe, Germany, Isa Genzken studied at the renowned Kunstakademie Düsseldorf whose faculty at the time included Joseph Beuys, Bernd and Hilla Becher, Benjamin H.D. Buchloh and Gerhard Richter. Genzken is best known for her sculptures, gaining acclaim for her minimalist oriented Hyperbolos and Ellipsoids in the late 70s, and architecturally-inflected works such as her epoxy resin windows and skyscraper Columns from the 90s. While Genzken’s practice is highly diverse, she has continually challenged the viewer’s self- awareness by means of physically altering their perceptions, bringing bodies together in space and integrating elements of mixed media into sculpture.

Genzken’s work has been exhibited in international institutional shows. She was awarded the Nasher Prize for sculpture in September 2018 and the prestigious Goslarer Kaiserring (or Emperor’s Ring) by the city of Goslar, Germany in 2017. Genzken was selected for Documenta in 1982, 1992 and 2002 and for Skulptur Projekte Münster 1987, 1997 and 2007, where she exhibited the outdoor sculpture ‘ABC’ (1987) the model of which is featured in this exhibition. In 2007, Genzken was chosen to represent her country in the 52nd Venice Biennale and had her first major retrospective in 2009, Isa Genzken: Open Sesame! which opened at the Whitechapel Art Gallery, London, England (2009) and travelled to Museum Ludwig, Cologne, Germany (2009). Major solo exhibitions include: Isa Genzken. Mach dich hübsch! at The Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam, Netherlands (2015) and Martin-Gropius-Bau, Berlin, Germany (2016); and the travelling exhibition Isa Genzken: Retrospective at MoMA Museum of Modern Art, New York NY (2013), The Museum of Contemporary Art Chicago, Chicago IL (2014) and The Dallas Museum of Art, Dallas TX (2014). A forthcoming exhibition at Kunstmuseum Basel, curated by Søren Grammel will open in June 2020.

Link: Isa Genzken at Hauser & Wirth

from Contemporary Art Daily https://bit.ly/2Wdpugr

#micaramel

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