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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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VALERIE - Part V. (Harry Styles)

happy sunday loves!! part 5 is here, buckle up bc we are getting down to business here!! thank you so much for the nice feedbacks, it’s always so moving and inspiring to read your thoughts, so please keep them coming! even if it’s just some gibberish rambling, those are the best haha! now let’s jump right into part 5, we are heading into the christmas mood and im so excited for yall to read this part!! enjoy!

word count: 6.1k

SERIES MASTERPOST

masterlist

By the time November nears its end you officially become a couple with Marcus. It happens gradually, two more dates follow your first one, and then on the third one you agree to test the waters of the possibilities between the two of you exclusively.

Marcus is a great guy. He is funny, caring and smart, always listens to you and cares for even the smallest details about you when you’re talking. He is great company and never fails to make you feel appreciated and wanted. Exactly what you’ve been looking for in a guy, Rosa really hit the nail on the head this time.

You easily fall into a habit with him. Fridays are for date nights, sometimes you go for little trips outside the city on Sundays and he never misses a chance to send you flowers throughout the week. He is just the type of guy that’s always there to cheer you up with something whenever the days start to weigh down on your shoulders.

You even have dinner together with Rosa and Steven one Saturday evening, Rosa keeps giving you those ‘I told you so’ eyes whenever Marcus kisses you shortly or places his hand to your waist. You mostly just roll your eyes at her, not wanting to make a big deal out of the two of you, but Rosa knows how long you’ve been trying to find someone.

What’s a surprising turn is that you start seeing Harry more. Intentionally. You have no idea how it happens, but it does and you’re not mad about it. Some days you grab lunch together whenever he is in the neighborhood, some days you go shopping with him when his sister doesn’t have the time. Harry is a problematic shopper, he takes a long time to decide on clothes so usually you are the one that forces him to choose and finish before all shops close.

When he has had a rough week and you happened to call him for whatever reason, the two of you agree to meet up for drinks at his place, then end up playing UNO for hours, slowly emptying out two bottles of wine.

It’s starting to get harder to imagine what it was like when things weren’t like this with him. When you were getting anxiety from just the thought of seeing him or having to talk to him. It’s like the both of you are showing a different version of yourselves to each other and you have to admit you enjoy being friends with him.

He keeps his habit of teasing you and making jokes about you though, but you don’t mind it. He is not doing it in a mean way with the attempt to piss you off, but to make you laugh and start a playful war where you both throw insults at each other until one of you runs out of it and just starts laughing. You feel a kind of dynamic building between you and him that has a way better effect on you than the continuous killing you were doing before.

You can tell Rosa is thankful for the change as well. Whenever she sees you interact with Harry without making a grimace or have that face that screams how badly you want to hit him, she is relieved that she has one less thing to worry about and Valerie will have two amazing godparents who even like each other.

Christmas is always a big parade in your family. Your mom and your aunts always want to celebrate together so in the past few years it has become a tradition to rent a place out that has enough space for the whole extended family and spend three days there from the 23rd to the 25th. This year your dad found a huge cabin in the woods with ten bedrooms and seven bathrooms, just the perfect size for you all. It’s gonna be your parents, Rosa and Steven with Valerie, Aunt Monica, Aunt Teresa with Uncle Andrew, your cousin Etta, her husband Joe and their two kids, your other cousin Lily with her husband Jeremy and their daughter, and lastly you and Harry. Though your mom urged you to invite Marcus along as well, he could join you for longer than a dinner, since he was already set to fly home to his family.

“You sure he can’t stay for at least the first night?” you mom asks on the phone one evening. You’re stirring the sauce in the pan. holding the phone to your ear with your shoulder so you have both of your hands free.

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s fine, he can come for dinner and then leave later.”

“I get it, but it would have been fun if he stayed,” she sighs, clearly disappointed that she couldn’t change what’s already set. If you’re being honest you don’t mind that Marcus is not staying for the night. You haven’t been dating for that long, you feel like it would be a little uncomfortable to have him there the whole time. A dinner is perfectly fine as a starter, since he hasn’t met anyone else from your family other than Rosa and Steven.

“Anyway,” she sighs moving on, “Have you figured it out how you’re gonna get there?”

“I don’t know, I guess I’ll tag along with someone.”

“Well, I think you should ask Harry. Everyone else is pretty packed already. Rosa and Steven won’t have any extra space with Valerie this year.”

You nod, even though she can’t see you. These past years Rosa always offered you a ride for the holidays, but even when they brought her over for just one night their car was jam-packed. No way you’re gonna fit in there so you are left with Harry since Marcus can only come in the afternoon.

“Sure, I’ll ask him.”

You shoot him a text that day and he replies right away that you’re welcomed in his car, though he won’t be able to take you back since he is leaving early in the morning on the 25th since he is flying back to the UK to his family. It’s fine, you think, you’ll just probably just tag along with aunt Monica back to the city, she always gets her a car for these occasions. Though it’s not your ideal option, she is not the best partner for rides, because she is a fan of smoking in the car, but you don’t have much of a choice.

“I’ll call you when I leave, okay?” Marcus tells you on the morning of the 23rd. It’s early, barely seven, but he is up because he needs to work a little today and you are finishing up packing since Harry will be here in an hour to pick you up.

“Sure. Drive safe,” you huff sitting on the edge of the bed, staring down at your suitcase that’s still not closed, clothes are sticking out on the side and you’re sure you’ll have to sit on it to pull the zipper.

“See you later,” Marcus says before you end the call.

It’s rather comical how you try to close the suitcase but you only care about the fact that you eventually succeed. Only minutes before eight you are packed and ready so when you get Harry’s text that he is outside you can leave right away.

Seeing you with your big suitcase he hops out of the car and rushes to help you.

“How long are you planning to stay, Y/N?” he chuckles lifting the bag up and you just shrug your shoulders with a smirk. You’ve alway been a heavy packer, no need to try to cover it up.

Harry throws your stuff into the back of the car as you take the passenger seat. His phone is hooked to the car, a playlist of his own playing gently through the speakers and you’re surprised to catch on the Christmas feeling in the songs.

“Are you in the spirit?” you ask when he gets into the car.

“Like to set the mood ahead,” he chuckles starting the car and off you go.

Ridiculous to think about it, but it’s actually the first time you sit in the same car with Harry or see him drive even. The way you two used to be was not quite ideal to have you locked up in such a small place as a car. But now you have nothing against spending the almost hour long drive with him.

“Can you pull out the navigation when I leave the highway? I’m not sure where exactly I need to head,” he asks you, eyes fixed on the road ahead of him and nodding you open the app on your phone so his can keep on playing the music without the voice of the navigation interrupting it.

“Excited to spend your first Christmas with us?” you ask. Though Harry was there at several family events, it’s his first Christmas since becoming Valerie’s godfather.

“I am,” he chuckles, nodding, hands gripping the wheel gently. He is a natural driver, easily working the car, the kind you feel completely safe next to. As Baby It’s Cold Outside comes on a smile stretches across your lips as you start gently bop your head to the song. “I’ve heard crazy stuff about Christmases at your family,” he adds glancing in your way for a second.

“Like what?”

“I remember when Steven told me about his first Christmas with your family. You remember that?”

Searching in your memories you tried to remember when was the first time Rosa brought Steven along. They dated for two years before they got married so it’s been about five years since then, but as you think hard the memory of that specific year pops into your head making you laugh as you nod.

“Oh, yes. The year Aunt Monica almost burned the Airbnb down,” you sigh grinning at the memory. She brought some special kind of cigars that year that were told to be curiosities from somewhere fancy, but they ended up the literal worst quality, flaming bits were falling out them all the time when she would smoke one, almost making the rug catch on fire wherever she went. Best thing is that she was already drunk on the liquor so she didn’t even notice, there was always a person on Aunt Monica duty, following her around, making sure nothing burnt down.

“Steven said he had a moment when he thought about bailing,” Harry tells you and you gasp, because that’s new information.

“Really?”

“Yeah, but like only for a split second after your dad walked in on him naked in the bathroom. That was kind of the last straw. Luckily Rosa could convince him to stay. Guess it all worked out at the end.” Harry smiles as he stares ahead of him.

You can’t imagine a version where Rosa and Steven don’t end up together. They met through a mutual friend not long after Rosa had a nasty breakup with her scumbag ex. Steven was there to put her back together and be her partner as she found herself again. The change and positive impact he had on her could be seen every day and you were so thankful to him for helping your sister find her way out of such a dark place in her life. It didn’t take them too long to start dating and he proposed a little more than a year later. You still remember how Rosa was screaming in the phone when she called you that evening telling you that Steven proposed. They are quite literally a match made in heaven. It’s been your goal in life to find this person in your life though you haven’t had much luck with men so far. Ironically, if you were in a room with every man you were ever involved with in any kind of way, Harry would be the only one you’d want to talk with. If you had to make this exact same choice just months ago you would have chosen to run out screaming.

“Maybe this year it’s your turn to get horrified from us,” you laugh, sinking down a little in your seat as you adjust the seat belt. You’re still quite far away from the cabin, you might as well make yourself comfortable.

“I think there’s not much that I haven’t witnessed yet. I was walked in on at the bathroom once too, but it was your cousin, Etta.”

“When did that happen?” you ask with a heartfelt laugh.

“I think it was last summer at one of your nieces’ birthday party. Luckily everything was already tucked away when she basically barged in.”

“She didn’t miss much,” you tease him with a smirk and your witty comment catches him by surprise.

“Are you saying my dick is not imposing enough to be worthy of peeking?” he asks with raised eyebrows and you’re happy he is driving. His intimidating look would already burn right into your skin by now, but he is forced to watch the road instead.

“I mean, if you want to put it that way…” you continue, but a laugh escapes your lips.

“Take that back, Y/N,” he orders, sneaking a hard look at you before turning back ahead, but you can see the small smile hiding on his lips.

“Or what?”

“Or you might find yourself in a war you don’t want to be involved in,” he warns you, but his words don’t quite have the effect on you he wanted. Because in a heartbeat you find yourself feeling… excited? Thrilled? Even curious about his means behind his words.

“Wouldn’t want to lie, so…” Pretending like you’re sorry you shrug your shoulders as Harry gives you a look that makes your stomach churn. Now either you are gonna have some fun teasing each other or… you just threw yourself into the arms of the Devil himself. Either way, you’re certain Harry won’t leave it in that.

Turning your head to your window you can’t keep your smile contained as you think of the fact that how big of a lie it was. Harry is surely not a guy who should ever worry about any aspect of his manhood. You’re talking from experience.

***

The cabin is absolutely gorgeous, just the perfect place for a cozy family holiday. Hidden from the busy roads with a secure gate and tall trees on both sides, the back of it is facing a majestic view of the valley and the evergreen covered hill in the distance. With an interior straight from the pages of a magazine, you need just a few moments to adjust to your surroundings upon arriving.

“I saved a nice room for you, Harry!” your mother gushes the moment she sees the two of you walk through the front door. You huff in annoyance.

“And what about me?”

Harry chuckles giving you a smug grin. “Guess you’re just second after me.”

“It’s his first Christmas with us, he deserves the better room,” your mom shushes at you, making your eyes roll instantly. It’s still hard to believe Harry has this kind of charm over most people.

After greeting everyone who is already there, your dad, Aunt Teresa and Etta with her family, your mom walks the two of you down one of the hallways that leads to several bedrooms. She stops at the last door with an excited grin on her face as she opens it revealing the bedroom behind it.

You instantly understand why she thought this is the best one. The view is absolutely breathtaking, the gentle noon light is flowing into the room through the floor to ceiling windows, the king sized bed facing them so when you wake up in the morning the first thing you see is the endless sea of evergreens on the side of the hill. Not to mention the room has its own bathroom, not many of the other rooms are blessed with that. There’s a spacious shower that has enough space for at least three people in there and it’s one of those fancy ones that can make you feel like you’re having a shower in the middle of a jungle, mood lights and bluetooth speakers attached to it.

“No fucking way Harry is getting this room!” you gasp as you look around, taking in the luxure your mother is willing to hand over to him.

“Jealous, much?” he smirks, throwing his sports bag to the bed already ruining the neatly made sheets. He does not deserve this.

“Mom!” you huff turning to her, but she has made her mind up already.

“Your room is nice too, don’t worry Honey. Let Harry have this one!”

“I really can’t believe you are taking his side,” you grumble under your breath, folding your arms on your chest as you take one last look at the stunning view.

“Come on, Y/N. He is a guest!”

“He is not! You said it yourself he is family now!” you retort and Harry just laughs behind you, so you shoot him a murderous look over your shoulder, that just fuels his entertainment.

“Don’t be silly. Your room is the second one on the right from here,” she smiles at you. “We are gonna take a walk around once everyone arrives, so get settled by then!” she informs you before walking out.

“Hey,” Harry’s soft voice makes you turn around. “You can have the room if you want.”

Your eyebrows rise at the kind gesture, it’s very not like him, even now in your friendly state, so it’s quite odd that he is willing to switch rooms with you.

“No need,” you shake your head grabbing the handle of your suitcase that you abandoned at the door.

“You sure? It doesn’t matter where I’m sleeping, really.”

“I’m not gonna deal with my mother’s scolding if she finds out I took your room, so you can totally stay.”

Harry chuckles as you head out, but stop at the door to have one last word with him. “Though I might occupy your bathroom, that shower looks nice.”

“All yours,” he grins before you walk out.

***

By 11 am everyone arrives and the once quiet cabin is now buzzing from life, children running around, Valerie’s babbling shoots through the spacious living area where Rosa set her crib up, your mother is already making preparations for dinner while most of the men are circled around the pool table having a beer since no one has to drive for the rest of the day.

“When is Marcus arriving?” Rosa asks, eyes on Valerie who is absolutely destroying something that once were an elephant maybe, but she’s been ruthless with the poor animal, chewing and throwing it around all the time, so it’s not just a grey, fuzzy mess.

“Sometime before dinner. He has some work to finish,” you tell her pulling your legs under yourself on the comfy couch.

“And explain again, why isn’t he staying for the night?” she turns to you with a puzzled look.

“Because he is going home to his family early in the morning tomorrow.”

“Okay, but he could have just left from here, didn’t he?”

“It’s… complicated. It’s better if he just goes back home tonight and then leaves from there in the morning.”

What you leave out of the whole explanation is that you didn’t really invite him to stay the night as well. Sounds horrible and ridiculous but you didn’t think you’d have felt comfortable with him staying. You’ve been dating for only barely more than a month and though things are going well, you felt like starting with just a dinner would be a better idea. Marcus didn’t question why you didn’t offer him to stay, it seemed like he was fine with just coming and then going after dinner.

Does this make you a bad girlfriend? Maybe, but you value your comfort and feelings more than to ruin your favorite holiday with your family.

Just as you mom said, once everyone is settled in their rooms for the upcoming three days, the whole gang dresses up to have a walk around taking the welcoming little path that runs around the cabin and is smooth enough for Valerie’s carriage as well. Your nieces and nephew are quick to surround Harry and nag him to join them at the front, exploring the woods surrounding the path. It seems like he doesn’t mind it and gladly takes part in the adventure, also secretly looking after them so their parents can have a break and enjoy the stroll in hopes the walk tires the kids out enough that they’ll willingly go to bed in the evening instead of whining to stay up late.

You’re walking with Etta next to you as she tells you about Hannah’s latest dance competition when you spot that Harry and Oliver, your nephew, Etta’s other kid are suspiciously whispering around pointing in your direction. At last Olly nods and runs up to you showing a quite thick piece of wood into your hand. You look down at him confused.

“Thank you?” you tell him a little unsure what it’s all about.

“I found it in a bush, I want to take it home. Harry said you’ll keep it for me because you have a good hand for thick and hard sticks.”

You almost choke on your own breath, as Olly just carelessly runs back ahead to join his sister. You immediately look over to Etta in fear that she heard what Harry told Oliver, but luckily she was talking with Joe turning back, not really paying attention to the conversation you just had with her son. If she did, Harry probably wouldn’t live by now.

Speaking of the devil, you look in his way and that annoying, smug grin is right there as he nods in your way saluting before he shows his hands into his pockets and turns back around to catch up with the kids.

That disgusting piece of shit really went into the depth of teaching something secretly dirty to your nephew as a way of payback for your comment in the car earlier. He surely wasn't just joking when he said you’d pay for what you said. And you have a feeling he is just getting started.

***

Aunt Monica is like a legend in your family. She is the oldest between your mom and her sisters, already in her sixties, but in the heart she still feels like she has just turned twenty. She never married, but had several men in her life, love affairs, short flings, but none of them lasted for more than a year.

“Why would I settle when there’s so many fish in the sea?” she once told you, her iconic Chanel sunglasses sat on her nose as she sipped on her martini.

She has worked many jobs throughout her life, she was once a dancer, she waited tables and even worked as a TV host at one point in the ‘80s. She was the true free spirit of the family, her sisters often questioned her sanity, but you think there’s nothing wrong with how she lived her life, enjoying it to the last bit. In the early ‘90s she was seeing a millionaire, probably the only man she would have given her lifestyle up for. Unfortunately, they never married, the man passed away due to his heart problems, however, since he had little to zero family he left basically everything to Aunt Monica. Money, house, cars, business, everything. Being the smart woman that she is, she handed over the business into professional hands but she is still the owner, so the money is still flowing even though she could have lived happily on the money she inherited without ever having to work a day.

She seems a little odd in your family, but she has always been a loving aunt to you, a caring sister and she never fails to take care of her loved ones. She is the one to pay for all these Christmas getaways, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to stay in places this nice.

“What’s all the money for if I don’t spend it on my family?” she always says when someone questions if she is fine with paying for everything. Your mom and Teresa have tried to convince her to let them at least pay for part of it but she wouldn’t even listen to them.

She likes to have her own, sometimes odd ways in life. She definitely has a drinking problem, but not in a dangerous way. You have never seen her completely wasted, she just likes to keep things buzzing and always have a drink on her whenever she needs the extra fun. Because of her past she has the greatest stories about meeting famous people back in the days or how soldiers used to try to win her over when she was just a teenager.

“Oh, those things happened,” your mom told you when one day you questioned if you could believe all the crazy stories Aunt Monica tells you. “She was like… the star of the show. Used to hate living in her shadow, but I can’t blame her for enjoying life and doing the things I was too afraid to do myself.”

Now you’re sitting in the sunroom that faces the amazing view behind the cabin, the Christmas tree is standing tall in the corner, beautifully decorated in white and beige. Valerie is snuggled up to your chest as you gently rub her back and you listen to Aunt Monica tell you about how a literal captain once proposed to her after just three days of knowing each other.

“He was a gentleman, but a beast in the bed, Y/N. I’m telling you, men in uniform are just a different level of satisfaction.”

She sighs deep, taking a sip from her margarita that’s definitely not her first drink, and you just laugh nodding.

“He was begging for me to go to Italy with him.”

“And why didn’t you?”

“Who said I didn’t?” she asks with a pretentious hurt look turning to you and you just laugh. You should have known the story would go this way. “I accepted the offer, only turned down his proposal when we sailed off and then we parted as soon as I stepped onto the land of Italy. Broke his heart into pieces, but I was too busy enjoying the Italian summer.”

Harry comes in and hands you a bottle filled with juice that probably Rosa sent for Valerie.

“Thank you,” you smile at him shortly as you adjust the little girl in your arms and hand her the bottle.

“Young boy, have you ever proposed to someone?” Aunt Monica asks Harry who stops in his way as he was already about to head out, but now he walks back to the sofa where she is sitting.

“No, not yet,” he shakes his head.

“And how do you think you would if the time came?”

You watch Harry think to himself at the odd and quite random question. It’s not really something you would have ever asked him, but now that there’s the chance to hear his answer you are listening curiously.

“Depends on the woman I’m proposing to,” he replies after a few seconds.

“How would you propose to Y/N?”

Your eyes widen as you turn to your aunt with shock all over your face. You definitely didn’t want yourself dragged into this.

“Aunt Monica, that’s--”

“Shush! I’m just asking theoretically. Wanna hear his answer.”

Harry’s eyes wander over to your sitting figure on the sofa as he leans onto the back of the one in front of him. You can feel the heat crawling up on your neck to your cheeks under his burning look and you just know he enjoys how nervous you got from this simple question that wasn’t even asked from you.

Licking his lips he moves his eyes from you over to Aunt Monica who is still waiting for his answer.

“Something romantic, but not too grandiose, I know she doesn’t like being in the center of the attention that much. Maybe…” Tapping on his chin you listen to his words and without even realizing you hold your breath. “Maybe on a hike with a nice view. She would be admiring the view when I get down on one knee and as she turns around I pop the lid on the box.”

What bugs you is that it’s an awfully accurate description of how you’d imagined your proposal. He was right about many aspects, like how you don’t like being in the center of attention. No idea how he nailed so easily, but he did.

Glancing down you pretend to be busy with Valerie who is still peacefully drinking her juice, eyes wandering around the room relentlessly.

“So you really look to satisfy her deepest fantasies, careful about even the smallest details. Women appreciate it,” Aunt Monica nods, completely oblivious to how uncomfortable she just made you feel.

“Thank you, I do like to satisfy women,” Harry cheekily answers with a smirk, eyes locking with yours for a moment as Aunt Monica lets out a laugh at the dirty comment. Before you could bite your tongue a retort slips out of your mouth.

“What a shame you don’t always succeed.”

Harry’s eyes turn from playful to dark pretty quickly and you enjoy the victory over him. Your comment in the car earlier already wounded his manhood, now it’s another stab right into his… crotch. It’s the least he deserves after what he taught poor Olly.

“That I don’t believe. He seems like an absolute pleaser.” Aunt Monica winks in Harry’s way who just smiles at her shyly, but you can tell your comment is still bugging him.

“I think Y/N knows that too herself, am I right?” He tilts his head to the side and you stand your ground with holding his gaze and not looking away.

“Don’t be so sure about that,” you simply say, just when you hear your mom calling out for you. “Would you take her please?” you innocently ask walking up to Harry, holding Valerie out for him. You can tell he is looking for a witty comeback, but he has nothing just yet, so he is stuck with keeping his mouth shut as he takes baby Valerie from you. You gift him with a sweet, but definitely spikey smile before leaving him there with Aunt Monica.

***

Dinner is already almost ready, you’re helping your mom and Aunt Teresa in the kitchen with the finishing touches, Joe and Harry packing out the wine bottles from the rack Jeremy brought them in, the two of them examining the bottles with such professionalism you almost believe they have the slightest idea about what to look for in a good wine.

“Should we open some red or white ones for tonight’s dinner?” Joe asks your mom who is the master chef when it comes to the dinner.

“Red would suit better,” she answers. “Are they sweet?”

“Some, yeah,” Harry nods holding up a bottle and checking the label.

“Great. Monica loves that too,” Teresa chuckles as she adds some salt to the mashed potato.

“And Y/N too,” Harry adds, not even looking up, but he successfully attracts your mom’s attention with his comment.

“She does?” Harry looks up and sees your boiling anger plastered all over your face, so of course he chooses to take it further.

“Oh, yeah. She can drink like a gallon. Wine drunk Y/N is like a whole different person.”

“I told you so many times not to get drunk, Y/N. It’s not too ladylike. When was the last time you saw her drunk?”

“There were plenty of occasions,” Harry exaggerates and you could kill him right there. “Though last time it was the tequila that got her wildin’.”

That damned smirk of his is making your hands curl into fists and for a moment you tell yourself it’s okay to punch him in front of your mother even if she’ll probably disown you for such behavior.

“Y/N! I have told you a million times that you need to know where your limits lie!” she huffs shaking her head at you while you clench your jaw. Back at it with the lessons about getting drunk. She’ll never get over it, not even when you’ll be forty. Why does it matter to her so much? Sometimes she is the one to get you started, but then she gives you the dirtiest looks when you have one too many. She should just get used to it now.

“She surely likes to have fun when she has had a few drinks,” Harry continues smugly. “Remember how much fun you had at Rosa and Steven’s wedding?”

“Oh, God! I remember how drunk you were that evening, I could have killed you!” your mother growls and you roll your eyes at her.

“It wasn’t that bad. There were a lot more people who got way more wasted than me,” you try to defend yourself folding your arms on your chest.

“That doesn’t change that you were too,” she says with a hard look. Great, now she is mad at you for something that happened literally years ago. Kudos to Harry for ruining her mood.

“She wasn’t that bad,” Harry adds and you look in his way with suspicion. “She was a delight when it was time to get her to bed.”

Your mouth almost hangs open, but it seems like you’re the only one understanding what he really meant by that. Luckily, beside you and him, Rosa and Steven are the only people who knows what happened between you and Harry that night, so it’s no surprise no one else catches on the hint.

“You were the one who took her up to her room? Sorry if she was a burden,” your mother sighs and right at that moment you wish the floor would just open up and you could disappear forever. Harry’s satisfied grin is the evidence that he just won another round of this nasty war.

Just as you open your mouth to try and move the conversation to another field you see a pair of headlights pull up to the driveway. Everyone turns to the window as Marcus’ car parks down last in the line. As you step away from the counter you see the confusion in Harry’s eyes about the new guest.

“Oh, amazing! He is here!” your mom cheers, seemingly instantly forgetting about how she was dragging you just a minute ago.

“Who’s here?” you hear Harry ask, but you’re already out of there, heading to the front door to greet Marcus.

Just as you walk out into the cold evening air you see him get out with a warm smile on his lips. You wait for him at the door, arms wrapped around yourself and as he reaches you he places a soft kiss to your lips.

“Hey, how was the drive?” you ask him.

“It was fine. I didn’t arrive too late, right?”

“No, we were just about to set the table. Come on in, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

He takes your hand in his as the two of you walk inside, all eyes immediately turning your way at the arrival of your boyfriend.

“Everyone, I want you all to meet my boyfriend, Marcus. He is staying for dinner.”

Your family members walk up to the two of you, shaking hands and introducing themselves to Marcus who smiles at everyone politely, trying his best to remember all the names and information that’s thrown at him all of a sudden. Everyone seems delighted to have him for dinner, the kids instantly make him promise he’ll play a card game with them after dinner and he happily says yes to the invitation.

You can tell your mom is proud that finally both of her daughters are spending Christmas with a man by their side and you’re almost certain your dad took a liking to Marcus the moment he mentioned he is into fishing.

Everyone seems excited and happy for Marcus, there’s just one face that doesn’t fit in the line of joyful smiles. Harry stands quite far from the two of you and only gets closer when he shakes hands with Marcus. His cocky grin is long gone from his face as he keeps his hard look on your boyfriend who is chatting with everyone. Standing next to Marcus, your hand still holding his, your eyes lock with Harry’s and there’s an unknown, burning feeling in your gut when his hard gaze holds yours. The sudden change and cold act gets you wondering what’s really going on in his mind. He is the first one to look away and you watch him walk into the kitchen and disappear from your sight before you force a smile on your lips and turn back to Marcus.

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#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles imagine #harry styles x you #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles valerie #harry styles valerie series #valerie series

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living-dead-parker · 4 years

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Inspiration - P.P

Summary: Request - can we Plssse get you to elaborate and maybe get a full fic (or blurb) about peter (or tom) showing the bestfriend!reader a bunch of photos of her that he uses to get off

I decided to make this a part two to say so bc people wanted a part two and this worked out well. However, you don’t need to read Say So to understand this one.

Warnings: mentions of sex (oral m receiving, fm sex, no protection - wrap it up bois, cum and quite a bit of it), cussing��

Word Count: 1.3k

"Thanks for the hand, pal," Peter jokes as he stands up from your bed, a playful smirk on his lips as he winks at you. This man is your boyfriend? For real?

"Hand?" you ask in disbelief. "Sir, I gave you full-on head," you tell him with faux anger. He giggles, which in turn makes you laugh. "No, I gave you the sloppiest of toppy, I gave you the slurp and succ of your life. This was more than, 'a hand' and you will treat it as such," you conclude, sitting up on your bed, playfully glaring at Peter.

Peter's doubled over in laughter, his hand moving to hold his stomach as he lets out a cry of laughter. You smile, giggling a little as he stands straight and looks over at you. He proceeds to walk over to you and he holds your chin, lifting it up so you're looking up at him. A wide grin graces your lips as he leans in and presses his to yours. You kiss back softly, melting into his touch. He pulls away a second later, pecking your nose.

"Go shower," you whisper to him. "You're stinky smell."

"How did I get so lucky?" Peter asks as he begins walking away. However, your eyes are fixated on his cute bubble butt.

"I could ask you the same, look at that ass," you call out, making Peter's cheeks go red. "God, you can feed the needy with that ass."

"Stop diminishing my character to just my ass, I have so much more to offer," he cries out from the restroom. You let out a giggle, lurching forward. "Like my fat, juicy, scrumptious, gargantuan pussy."

"Look, you have the ass for the both of us and my cooter has all the lips for the both of us, now get in the shower!"

With that, the water turns on as you hear a mix of both yours and Peter's giggles. You lie back down on your bed, and suddenly, your eyes land on it. Peter Parker's phone. Your eyes widen a little, but with a quickness, you reach over and grab the phone off the nightstand. You type in the passcode and it unlocks. Peter had given you the passcode ages ago, but back then, you would only ever get on his phone to take selfies or play games. This is different.

You're going to snoop. Not the nasty kind of snooping. Well, that could be debated, as the content will not be clean, however, the reasoning is not some toxic reason. You don't plan on looking through his texts or social media DMs or anything of that sort. You trust Peter, you have faith in him. He's never given you a reason to be concerned. There's just one thing you're really curious about.

"Alright, Parker," you voice out loud as you go to his camera roll. "What kind of stuff inspires you?"

You open the album that's titled after you, taking notice of the water droplets emoji. The first picture you see is one he took of you just a few moments ago, going down on him. "Oh Y/N Stark, you are one filthy bitch," you tell yourself as you see your lips covered in Peter's cum. You slide over a few times, as most of the most recent ones are of you giving Peter head just a few minutes ago. However, the next thing you see is a screenshot of a selfie you took on Snapchat of you in a red and blue bikini with a spider logo on it. Of course, Peter enjoyed that look.

A giggle escapes your lips as you swipe the picture. The next is a picture from a magazine you'd been in. You decided to do a little modeling for a friend's fashion magazine and you were modeling underwear. You're shirtless and covering your chest with your arms. You swipe over and see a picture of you standing in the water, a white swimsuit on. You're looking off into the distance. Then you swipe again and you're back into NSFW territory.

There's a picture of you lying on your bed, covered in Peter's cum. He sure does have a thing for seeing you covered in his cum. You don't mind getting a little filthy for him, it's all fun. You can picture this as one of Peter's most visited pictures, no doubt about it. You scroll over to see the next thing is actually a video. So, you lower the volume and press play. It's a short clip of Peter stroking himself until he cums on your chest. Geez, Parker is filthy, you think.

The next picture is from that same session. A picture of your pussy with his cock deep inside. You're on top of him in it and his hand can be seen on your hip. You swipe to the next, and it's a short clip of you moving up and down, up and down on him. Then, you scroll to see a picture of you on your knees, his cock in your mouth. Next; a picture of your tongue sticking out of your mouth, your hand wrapped around his cock and pressing the tip of it to your tongue.

You scroll again and see all the four initial pictures you saw just a couple weeks ago at Pacific Park. You scroll over to the others you haven't seen. One of them consisted of you punching a punching bag. Another was of you bending over to reach for something on the ground in the training room. There was one of you in just a bra and panties. The rest were ones you've seen because they were all pictures you send. Nudes, varying in nudity, posing, lighting, etc. You're completely nude in some, you're in just panties in others, bra in some. You stand in front of a full-size mirror in some, some are closeups on a specific part and more.

The sound of the water turning off gets your attention. You look up briefly but slowly and calmly exit the album. However, another album catches your attention. It's named after you but this one has a pink heart on it. You open it quickly and smile when you quickly scroll up and down. It's filled with pictures of the two of you cuddling, selfies at events and such, along with selfies of just you.

"Aw," you say to yourself. "He has a dirty and a clean stash," you comment as you exit the app and lock his phone. You set the phone just as he left it and you sit back down on your spot with your phone in your hand this time. As he enters the room in just his towel, you look over at him, smiling at the sight of him. God, you love him so much.

"So I was thinking," he states.

"Yes?"

He chuckles, shaking his head. "No, I mean I was thinking in the shower about things and then I started thinking about some other stuff and it led to me getting worked up again and now I'm worst than I was when I got here."

You giggle at his rambling as you sit up. "You are such a horny bastard," you call out to him. He blushes, but you lean over and grab his hand. You pull him down onto your bed and you're quick to straddle him. He gulps as he looks up at you, humming at the sensation of your hands rubbing at his chest. However, his eyes widen when he sees you reach over and grab his phone. You smirk as you open up the camera and set it to selfie mode. You lean over and prop it up so it shows from Peter's chest, down and then you press record. "How about, we make a little movie for when you really need it?"

Peter groans as he pushes up against you. "Please," he begs as his hands move to your hips.

"Get to it, Parker."

Send in feedback, requests, asks, or just come talk to me!!

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #stark!reader #stark!daughter #requested #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x stark!daughter #smut #fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker fluff #song fic #pt2 #tom holland #tom holland x reader

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heniareth · 3 years

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I was tagged by @scribbledquillz for this ao3/fanfic author meme. Thanks so much for tagging me! Now, there’s only one thing (I’ll explain as soon as I answer the first question). But first, tags. I’m gonna tag @yukichouji and @the-iron-lion because I know you write and post, but I also know you’re busy, so please, only do it if you want to and have time ^^ Apart from that, if anybody who sees this wants to give it a go, consider yourself tagged! I’d love to read your answers, so feel free to tag me back

How many works do you have on AO3?

So, here’s the thing: I’ve never posted anything I have written XD One day, I will, but until then, I’ll answer the questions I can answer to the best of my ability ^^ I’ll modify some questions and keep the original ones for anybody who wants to answer those.

What’s your total AO3 fanfic words count?

123.211 words total (not counting one absolutely massive collaborative fanfic that I’m not gonna count rn)

More under the cut!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Funny thing: thanks to this question I’ve rediscovered like ten folders with the beginnings of different fanfics I’d not opened in years. Thank you, @scribbledquillz for making me find my old writings! My main work rn is a Dragon Age Origins retelling (featuring Astala Tabris of course, though I have decided that the other origins--Surana, Amell, Brosca, Mahariel, the whole gang--also survive because yes.) I also have two separate unfinished pieces on Caduceus and Caleb of the Mighty Nein (Critical Role) respectively. Equally unfinished are one fanfic with Loki and his Jotunn heritage, and another about the extermination of mutants in the X-Men universe prior to X-Men: Days of Future Past. Both projects were ambitious, but exist mainly as ideas now. The longest (and oldest) fanfic I’ve ever written is a collaborative super self-indulgent self-insert fix-it fic for The Hobbit. I am quite proud of my younger self for pulling through with this one and sticking to it over such a long time. It is, sadly, also unfinished.

Do you Would you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I would definitely respond to comments. It’s polite. I’d also want to mirror back the joy a comment has inspired in me.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

The X-Men fanfic ends with the events of X-Men: Days of Future Past, which (spoiler?) means all the characters were going to die. But it’s okay because the movie fixes that ^^ But generally speaking, I’m not big on angsty endings. Angst is fine anywhere else.

What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

I think it has to be either the The Hobbit fanfic or the Dragon Age Origins retelling. Characters I strongly identify with tend to get the happiest endings. Oh do I ever wonder why that is so

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you’ve ever written?

I’ve never written a crossover, but I’ve read some really cool ones. There was one featuring the Mighty Nein in the Undeadwood setting (both by Critical Role) that I wished had gone on longer bc it was so cool.

Have you ever recieved hate on a fic?

One of the good things about not posting anything: you don’t subject it to judgement ;D

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I have... never finished writing a smutty scene.

One day. One day. Zevran might be the push I need, who knows

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Another one of the good things about not posting anything.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

I started translating several of them myself! :D

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Oh yes! It’s an amazing experience. The creativity is squared. It is important though that all collaborators are on the same page about where the story goes, how the characters will be portrayed, etc. Especially if you give somebody your own OC or self-insert to write about.

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

There are a few that have a special place in my heart. Shadogast comes to mind, or Percy/Vex (from Critical Role). I love the Zevwarden ship because it’s a story about allowing feelings and romance and being stronger because of them (at least in my mind). I’m scared of what Fenris/Hawke might do to me when I get around to play DA2 XD

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

Definitely the The Hobbit fanfic. It is a glorious mess, and from time to time I go through the documents again... but it’s just a really big project and my collaborators are busy

What are your writing strengths?

Dialogue! Banter! I love it. I absolutely adore it. I make it way too long but it’s so much fun. I’m very much character driven I think, which is also why fanfic is so appealing to me. Actions speak louder than words, but characters shout through a megaphone. I also like pairing dialogue with very day-to-day, down-to-earth actions (like folding laundry). I feel like it allows me to convey so much more about the caracters than only through the words they say and the dialogue tags of “he said, she whispered”. Another thing I consider myself strong at is worldbuilding and generally keeping the practical things in mind. If it’s autumn, it’s probably gonna rain, the ground will be wet, they’ll sleep poorly and that’ll be reflected in heightened tempers and therefore more drama in the next scene. The fact that in canon a town has a harbor will have impacted this character who was born there. I like the details and puzzling the pieces together to make a world really come to life XD And, last, I have also recently learned that I write best non-chronologically, and to just write it all out and edit later. It does wonders to advance a project

What are your writing weaknesses?

Descriptions. I hardly write any at first. I normally see scenes very clearly in my head, but I... don’t communicate it XD I’m so character-driven that I kinda forget about the rest. I also tend to get too bogged down by the mundane? The fact that I like to play around with details of the worldbuilding and have it all make sense means I’ll write that scene where they break up camp even though it... doesn’t really add anything to the story apart from the fact that it happens and they indeed do break up camp. Things that I should tell, I show. It reflects in my wordcount.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

I like it! I find it really interesting. I might even listen to the spoken dialogue via Google trnaslate XD The only reason it might bother me is that there’s just no elegant way to integrate the translation into the text on AO3. In a normal book, I’d go for a footnote, but in AO3 and with my chapter length, I won’t make anybody scroll down, read the translation, and scroll up again.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

My first ever fanfic before I knew what fanfic was were things I wrote age 11 with a friend about the cowboy stories this German late 19th century writer Karl May wrote. We were obsessed with those novels

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

I gotta say the Hobbit fanfic. It was melodramatic, it was self-indulgent, it had everything. I remember staying up with my friends way into the wee hours of the morning discussing how we’d save Thorin and his nephews from certain death and why Kili was so obsessed with Tauriel after talking to her once XD

And here we go! Thank you so much again for tagging me, this was a lot of fun (and it makes me want to post something. Maybe the Dragon Age Origins retelling will make the cut? I do hope I finish it in the next months)

#me #writing #astala tabris #for fun

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willowser · 2 years

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Where do you draw your inspiration for writing

oh wow ! what a question ! i find it in literally everything my little brain can process LMAO

i think it's a bit of a curse because i can't just enjoy something to enjoy it, most often i think about how i would write and do and change things with such-and-such trope or setting or genre. that's part of why i have always written fanfiction, i think, since i was probably 13, because i always wanted to rethink every story i consumed with my own OC's and twists and turns. so i tend to take everything to bed with me, so that i can reimagine it my way, even if i never do anything with it, just to rewatch it in my head. that's why i had to start posting, because - 12 years later - there is just no more room in there LOL.

i mean, i like to write, so that is, of course, a foundation for wanting to find things to write about, so that's why i probably find something in all the things i see. even things in my personal life; and there's this burning is actually based off a small and sad period of my own life, and i think certain events in pleased to meet you will actually be, hmm, cathartic for me to write about. tomb raider: underworld was on sale on steam the other day and i bought it because ☆my childhood☆, and while playing it, my brain immediately was like OKAY TREASURE HUNTER READER WHO FINDS A FORGOTTEN TEMPLE, ONLY TO COME ACROSS SUN GOD BAKUGOU bc i can't just play things LOL if you look at the text post/ask i made/answered for assassin!toji x princess!reader, you can see my thought process there in the tags LOL i basically just rattle off ideas to myself until one sticks.

in terms of like motivation to actually sit down and do the thing, that feels a bit like a different ball game because it's hard, plain and simple. when i was very active in my writing groups, i was sitting down and writing at least 1-3k a day - which sounds insane, in hindsight, considering i write nowhere near that much these days - so i'd like to say i developed a bit of a habit for it, since that continued for maybe a year or more, but there was a time when i wasn't writing at all, and i'm sure that habit would have faded in some capacity - so here i am now, after the peak, coming down the other side of the mountain. i so despised not writing during that period, and maybe that could be a factor in what drives me? because i know how i feel when i neglect this thing that i love to do, so i don't want to feel that way. another big motivator for me is just you guys (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡ it's very surreal to me to be asked things like this, that anyone cares enough to wonder the answer, and i am still bad at taking compliments and responding to comments because i feel very out-of-body reading them, but it's so uplifting to see even one person say hey i like this thing that you made. it really just makes me want to keep making the things.

if this question is meant to give insight into how you or anyone else can find inspiration to write, i'm so sorry because this is all over the place LOL but i think it comes back to making sure that you're writing because there is something that you want to create and share with the world. the compliments are nice, obviously, and i am forever grateful for them, but i think i would still be doing this thing that is akin to pulling teeth even if i never got them, because i love to do this ! and so i constantly want to and am constantly finding/recycling ideas that i have stashed away in my head over the years. i wish that there was a few solid answers i could give you but - it just comes from everywhere, and i take what i can get !

#'sun god bakugou' shout out to mermie for the concept #not going to write it but LOL that's where the concept originated from in my brain #oh man if you could see my google doc of ideas #there are so many things in that bad boy #and i go back through those also #it's way to early to say this but i am working on a short bkg fic #and i have taken pieces from different unfinished things i have written and pieced it together to make what i have now #and it took me starting and stopping and starting and stopping #and picking through other concepts in order to find what i really wanted for this story #anyway #because i really exposed myself in this LOL #✿ ask willow #✿ refrog

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cherryonigiri · 4 years

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the retrospective: alice’s 1k special || lover masterlist

matchup requests: CLOSED

@katsushimaa asked: congrats on 1k Alice!! i’m so proud!!! can i request a matchup for the event? my personality type is ENFP, my house is ravenclaw, five words for me: loud, optimistic, friendly, lazy, and happy-go-lucky, my hobbies are writing and playing vball, and partying sometimes, i usually go for a comfy look, and my fav beverage is milk tea!! thank you for this 💞

A/N: yssa! Thank you for all the encouragement - you were one of the first people who really inspired me to keep writing even when my motivation was not the best <3 ahh i still remember when we mutually freaked out over each other’s writing and it’s honestly one of my best memories here 💖💖💖 have a wonderful day!!! -alice

Your matchup is: Komori Motoya

How you met: At an MSBY fan meet. You’re a pretty big volleyball fan and enjoy playing the sport regularly. Somehow, you were lucky enough to score a ticket to the fanmeet for one of your favorite teams in the league (You’re torn between EJP Raijin and MSBY Black Jackals). The line for the event is pretty long, and while you’re waiting you strike up conversation with your line neighbor, talking about different players in the league He seems oddly familiar and you can’t really put your finger on where you recognize him from, since he’s wearing a facemask. It isn’t until you’re at the table shaking hands with Hinata Shoyo and you hear your neighbor go “Kiyoomi!” only for Sakusa to respond with “Keep it down Motoya.” Wait. Motoya..? AS IN KOMORI MOTOYA? Anyways, Komori sees your eyes widen as you stare at him in shock and sheepishly comments “Ah, you caught me.” At the end of the event you don’t expect Komori to ask you for your number, but the two of you exchange contact info. What can he say, Komori enjoyed your laid back personality + passion for volleyball.

Your first date: The two of you text back and forth for a couple days. His teammates and his cousins warn him to be cautious, but you’re always polite over text, and never pry into anything he feels uncomfortable sharing. He’s finding that he’s enjoying your company over text and calls, and feels that going on at least one date with you won’t do anyone any harm (if anything he’d be ecstatic if you agreed to go on said date). He asks if you want to have lunch at Onigiri Miya and you agree. You’re not really sure what to expect, but Komori surprises you by keeping the lunch super chill. He kind of forgot to tell you it was a date, so you don’t really realize until he’s like, “where do you want to go for our second date?” really casually and you both have a freakout moment where you realize none of you ever established this was a date? (You’ll laugh about this later.) Anyways, you settle your plans with him, with promises for an at home movie marathon next week.

Your first kiss: Very casual and spontaneous. Komori invites you over to his place, of course telling you to go through the back door of the dorms since he doesn’t want you to get caught up with any lurking fans or have your picture taken by the media (he doesn’t want to scare you off 🥺). But he gets really excited just waiting for you to come over so the minute he hears the doorbell ring he’s flinging his front door open and it kinda just happens? He’s on autopilot because he’s so happy to see you again so he doesn’t really think before he’s leaning towards your lips for a kiss. No tongue, but definitely longer than a peck, and it’s really sweet because he has an arm around your waist while his other hand cups your cheek.

Anniversary: If you’re okay with it, he’d like to go public with your relationship. While people have been aware for a while that he’s dating, he’s been careful not to reveal your identity before you’re ready, especially since volleyball fans can get really intense. The most he’ll do is include your silhouette or hands in some of his photos on social media, but for the most part you two enjoy your lives outside of the limelight. Of course, sometimes having to plan routes and bend over backwards to avoid the press + fans can get exhausting, so he asks if he can post a photo on your anniversary. It’s a very simple caption ‘thank you for 2 years’ and a selfie of you two grinning at the camera while holding up your favorite boba orders from a date a few months ago. Anyways after that all your phones/devices are on mute and the two of you enjoy a fun video game night with face masks and TLC. Of course the night is not complete without boba, snacks and some takeout. He takes way more selfies that are for his and your eyes only, because he loves having photos to remind him of all the happiness you’ve brought into his life.

How they propose: After a game, in the private waiting room/outside the locker rooms. Everyone who is important to you and him are there - his teammates, Kiyoomi (He invited Sakusa to the game and his cousin obliged bc he knew that this was an important moment), your friends and family (he’d sneakily given them all tickets + post-game special access passes to the game). You thought you were just doing the usual and heading towards the locker rooms to congratulate your boyfriend on his win before heading out for dinner. But instead when you reach the hallway, all your loved ones are standing there, and they are all holding up little posters that have photos from all your dates/anniversaries/years together with Komori on them. Once you’re close enough, they part like the Red Sea, revealing Komori, kneeling in front of you with a ring and looking at you with so much adoration in his eyes. He doesn’t even have to say anything, you’re already sobbing yes and tackling him into a hug.

What your wedding looks like: I feel like you two are both really nonchalant about the guest list/how many people come - like whoever can make it can make it. Of course, between the two of you being super friendly and keeping in contact with literally everyone, you send out a bunch of invitations (you swear Komori invites half of the V-league and then some) but it ends up being a really fun wedding! I feel like you guys would definitely be a summer wedding with a sunflower aesthetic - either there’s a field of sunflowers nearby or sunflowers are the centerpiece of your decorations. It’s a cheerful flower that represents your happy and shiny relationship :) Both of you would insist on having people play party games at the reception because you want to have fun at your wedding.

Newlywed/domestic hc: You and Komori become THAT brunch/party couple - you guys love hosting parties/gatherings for the EJP Raijin team, and also small get-togethers with high school classmates/teammates, family etc. You have a big house (courtesy of that V-league pay + your own job) and have multiple guest rooms + pull out couches for people to stay on. After your house clears out - the two of you will be cleanin out a guest room when he just says “Imagine when we can turn this into a playroom” or “imagine when this will be a little one’s bedroom” and you two just spend the afternoon imagining your future family together.

#komori x reader #komori motoya x reader #komori motoya #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu matchups #haikyuu #itachiyama x reader #itachiyama #alice's 1k special #the retrospective

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furyfought · 3 years

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abernathy is a small town, surely you’ve met AGATHA KLEIN ; they can be a little IRREVERENT & OPPORTUNISTIC but have no fear , the TWENTY SEVEN year old definitely makes up for it by being IMPISH & SENSITIVE . most of the time anyway . they’re usually seen around KLEIN & ASSOCIATES, LLC , as a CRIMINAL DEFENSE ATTORNEY . you know, i hear they’re affiliated with the local mc, iron kings as an ATTORNEY . they’ve got this vibe of A HEART GROWN RAVENOUS, A CYANIDE CENTER ENCAPSULATED BY SACCHARINE FRUIT, AND A SOUL IN THE FORM OF A SCRIBBLE WITH FANGS going on , makes them easily recognizable.

loosely inspired by jennifer check (jennifer's body), wendy byrde (ozark), ginger fitzgerald (ginger snaps), elizabeth sloane (miss sloane), john silver (black sails), & BBHMM.

+ pinterest, stats.

hey, friends. i’m devin (or dev) & very tickled to be here. agatha’s a combination of two of my favorite muses, and i can only hope that you’ll love her as much as i do. 🤎

"𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄, 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐒. 𝐍𝐎. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓."

agatha’s story isn’t one that she likes to tell anymore. she feels it’s useless: to be defined by the actions of others, to attempt to battle the preconceived notions that run rampant regardless of what one says or does. she doesn’t want to beg for understanding anymore, or to claw her way from beneath the filth she’s made of her life. all that most know is all that she can bear to have known. the rest? it’s confetti; a meager concession in a game of chess. if you know her, is that a fact or a weapon to be used against her?

when it comes to the stories that can be told, however.. perhaps the most important is background. agatha’s an abernathy native: raised in grandiose park, flew the coop for college, only to settle back down in bordeaux apartments. klein & associates, llc. has been in her family for generations, each forefather serving increasingly questionable clients. agatha’s life, like that of many kleins before her, was already planned before she’d ever even been a thought in her parents’ minds. under her mother’s rule, there wasn’t any room for straying from that path. agatha would be smart; she would be clean; and she would be, without fail, someone. in other words, she would be her perfect replica. imagine the disappointment when agatha was anything but.

agatha’s childhood can be summed up by three things: a door slammed shut in her face, an ear-piercing howl, and the chronic longing to go home — wherever that was. it’s another thing she doesn’t talk about, another thing she tries not to think about. those three things have followed her into adulthood, but they’ve taken different forms now. no longer is agatha a child screaming her throat raw — no; now, she cries out in other more productive ways. if you were to ask her, she’d tell you that she’s a woman grown; the past is behind her, buried in the sand where it belongs. the truth is trickier, less absolute. agatha is a child in the form of a woman; forever in the midst of a metamorphosis, unsure if for better or worse. she lacks foresight & lives largely in the now. she can’t imagine a future for herself and her choices in life reflect that.

agatha succeeds because she’s pretty, powerful, and convincing. wherever she falls short, her father is sure to more than make up for it. it’s amazing what people will do for the right price, and when they want to keep certain secrets from ever seeing the light. nepotism & immense privilege have done wonders for her, but she does.. actually work hard, too. she has an incredible memory & is really good at digging for more information & making her case. if she tells you that she’s going to do something, then she’s going to do it right no matter what. she’s dogged in that way, blinded to the outside world by her stubbornness. she works long hours & values her career above all else. she thinks it’s the only sure thing she has & views it as the one stable, secure thing in her life.

agatha is lonely to the point of defect. she lacks a sense of security in her life, which is why she’s so career-focused. she genuinely thinks that the only person ever looking out for her is her dad. she becomes very predictable once you realize that she will always pick the winning team; that she will forever follow the money; and that she is always going to make the decision that most benefits her. that isn’t to say that she doesn’t have any friends omg, but.. she doesn’t really trust easily. if she trusts you and considers you near and dear to her heart, then she’ll choose you. but until she has that reassurance? you’re on your own, bro.

but like.. you literally would not know that unless you got burned by her. agatha is really good at listening and really good at playing parts for people. the thing with having no story is that she’s free to create her own. if you need a hero, she can be that. if you need a villain, she can definitely be that. she’s eerily good at getting chummy enough to make people think she’s close, only for them to realize.. they don’t actually know anything real about her? fun stuff.

i think.. her entire life is a vie for power while also wanting to let go of that desire while also being afraid of what might happen if she were to let go of that desire. she’s not tht bad. she can play decent, be a guy’s guy. and she does come off tht way. it’s jus.. underneath there’s tht like .. tht rot tht she can’t scrub away. n it rears its ugly little head smtimes. but. :^) she can be cool n shoot the shit u kno.. heheh.

anyway.. lighter stuff<3 puts the gaslight and gatekeep in girlboss. talks just like her daddy, except for when she’s in the courtroom. egocentric without ever meaning to be. (spoiler: it’s a smoke screen.) she can, must, and will find a way to twist your words into something she can make sense of. believes in mixed drink supremacy. will absolutely smoke all of your weed + play dumb about hogging the blunt. plays dumb a lot actually, until it’s time to be smart. she’s touchy-feely, but freezes up whenever someone touches her. stares — a lot. can’t ever be the person to pick you up after a rough night out, because she’s likely there with you egging you on to do one more shot. every event is a tits out event / she has to be the most overdressed person in the convenience store at all times. can, must, and will be your unsolicited sugar momma. YOU SPIL-DBFDHFDJHBF LIPSTICK IN MY VALENTINO WHITE BAG? energy. thinks everything is a competition because it is. if she loved you once then she loves you forever. thinks going 20 over the speed limit isn’t speeding, actually. a bit of an emotional anarchist. can’t actually take what she’ll dish out. teases u if she likes u. teases u if she doesn’t like u. doesn’t care abt the feud as long as she’s gettin’ tht shmoney. big fan of an emotional sucker punch.

"𝐌𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐒 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋, 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐀𝐋𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐌𝐀𝐋." + below are some ideas open to any & all muses no matter the age, gender, affiliation, etc !

i’ve left how she got involved with the mc totally absent from this intro bc i was hoping to plot it out! i’d love it if someone wanted to be her “in”. could be they were a childhood friend in need of help, a client she got close to, jus smth tht happened by chance.. whtever we come up with works! <3

if anyone needs an evil ex gf .. She’s Here. she will lie, cheat, scam, trash yr car, empty yr bank account.. whtvr you need, baybee<3

conversely.. not-so-evil ex gf? agatha can be nice & caring without there being a catch sometimes. maybe they still talk. maybe they’re friends. u tell me.

fwb / ex fwb? she do be sending them ‘u up?’ texts.

someone tht agatha only got close to bc she wanted them to testify/be a character witness in court oopz<3

omg actual friends pls.. ppl tht Know her. tht See her. ppl tht she cares abt n would actually do anything for. friends!!!!!!!!!!!!

agatha has “get off my lawn” energy so i think it would be very funnie if someone needed a place to crash n she let them stay at hers thinking it was temporary n then they jus.. did not leave. n she’s like 🤨 hello?

an almost smth? anything weird n awkward n unspoken tht maybe fizzled out or maybe still lingers under the surface?

agatha doesn’t have a budding drinking problem but if she does no she doesn’t but if she does then<3 drinking buddy? someone that she’s gotten into questionable shenanigans with? poor bartender tht has to deal w her trying to “help” them as she waits for her uber to come? the possibilities are endless.

agatha’s all bark n very little bite but i still think it’d be funnie if she had a hateship. jus putting tht out there<3

if yr muse wnts an ego boost via unrequited crush.. lmk. i’m willing to hulk smash all of agatha’s dignity jus for u.

omggg a dealer? >.> who said tht omg #hacked..

on n off again thingz? lorde wrote tht "i am my mother's child i'll love you til my breathing stops / i'll love you till you call the cops on me" line abt her</3

budding friendships!!!!!!! ppl tht she goes to pilates or yoga with; people she gets brunch with; ppl she keeps running into n its like heeey u :); little platonic crushes jus . all of the cute platonic thingz tht make her go wtf is this 🤨.

i mean.. if anyone wants a sugar momma.. I MEANNN..

college friends!! law school friends!! ppl she met over the summer while interning somewhere!! i left tht purposely vague, hint-hint.

tinder dates gone wrong. ghosted tinder dates. tinder thingz.

agatha’s been attending galas / banquets / office partiez for ages now so if anyone wants to be her plus one or her lil fake date... :^) could be cute. cld be angsty. world is our oyster.

speaking of which.. coworkers n maybe even a lil personal assistant would be so sexie.

#abernathyintro #omg arriving unfashionably late thirty yrs later. >.>#[vine vc] heeey.. . ..#nt rereading this. simply not strong enough. if there r errors then no there aren't<3

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cherryrogers · 4 years

Text

Falling For You.

— Chapter 9

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

(Modern High School AU)

Warnings: Swearing, tiny bit of angst?? sorta fluffy.

Synopsis: Unlike most teenagers, you had your life completely mapped out. You’d graduate high school, go off to the university of your dreams, and live the life that your parents always wanted you to. That was always the plan.

Falling for Bucky Barnes, however, was never part of that plan.

Being ‘just friends’ isn’t enough. Becoming anything more is too much. But suppressed feelings can’t stay ignored forever, and you were about to learn that a lot sooner than you thought

Inspired by the song ‘Fallingforyou’ - The 1975

A/N: okay so i’m sorry this is like a week late oof but here we are!! this ones a little shorter but just bc i didn’t feel like it needed anything else?? and i’ve rewritten it like ten times but we eventually came through and finished so please enjoy :) next chapter will be better,,, i’m excited.

Series Masterlist

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A content sigh left your lips as you stepped through the familiar glass doors of the large building, not having seen them for some while. The library had always acted as a safe place for you; it was a place where you could study quietly without distraction, a place where there was a textbook on anything and everything, a place where your parents weren’t, which always tended to be a good thing.

It was 8:02am. If Bucky knew you were there so early on the first day of Winter break, he’d physically collect you himself from the library and take you back home so that you could get back into bed, where every other teenager was at that time of morning. And if it wasn’t him that was teasing you about it, it’d be Wanda or Pietro.

However, you weren’t currently on great terms with either of the three, so it looked like you could spend time at the library in peace.

You’d barely been able to sleep the night before, the events of the Winter Formal refusing to leave your mind for a second while you tried to drift into a place where you momentarily forgot about everything. After waking up at 7am and not being sure when you actually managed to fall asleep, you presumed that there was no point in even trying to shut your eyes again. You needed to busy your brain with something, and what was your go-to way of distracting yourself from your problems? Studying, which is why you didn’t waste any time dropping your school bag down on the the table at the back of the library and pulling out your pens and paper, ready to revise in an attempt to ease your worries.

Time seemed to work differently when you studied. You felt like you hadn’t been sat down five minutes colour-coding your notes and answering practice questions before your phone started buzzing on the table next to you, and the corners of you mouth upturned as Wanda’s name appeared across the screen.

The ride home from the dance was awkward, to say the least. However, you were thankful when Vis approached the table where you were sat alone in the school hall with a sympathetic smile, letting you know that he was about to take Wanda home and that you were welcome to hitch a ride too. Frankly, you thought you sort of deserved to have to walk home in heels amid the dark, bitter night, but even though Wanda wasn’t too happy with you, you knew that she wouldn’t let you do that.

“Wanda, hey.” You breathed out, nerves beginning to build up in your stomach.

“Hi, (Y/N).” The girl replied in a tone you couldn’t quite decipher. “Uh, how are you?”

The question surprised you a little, since you’d imagined that she’d probably still be a little sour towards you. “I’m okay, I guess.” That was a lie, but the conversation wasn’t meant to be about you or your feelings surrounding the dance. “Look, I’m really sorry about last night. It was selfish of me to leave Pietro alone and... and-”

“You don’t have to apologise.” Wanda cut you off, not wanting you to talk about Bucky just yet if you didn’t want to. “Not to me, anyway. It was none of my business what you were doing with Bucky, and sorry for accusing you of making out with him, that was immature of me. I just wanted to defend my brother.”

“It’s okay, I can imagine that it looked like... something it wasn’t.” The moment replayed in your mind for the thousandth time, and you pushed it out quickly. “But you had a right to be mad. Is Pietro alright?”

The girl paused for a second. “I’m don’t know, honestly. He hasn’t really talked about the dance, but he did see you disappear with Bucky yesterday. I think you should talk to him, (Y/N).”

“I know, and I will, but I’m not exactly sure when would be the best time to...” The situation was completely new to you, since you’d never had to deal with boy troubles of your own before. God, this is exactly why you didn’t get involved with boys. All you could think about was sorting things out with Pietro and then sorting things with Bucky. There was a part of you that longed to go back to junior year, when all you did was study your ass off, when you could actually ignore your feelings for Bucky.

“He’ll be at Val’s party on Friday, are you going?”

Truthfully, you weren’t planning on going. You’d gotten the text from Val, but hadn’t really given her an answer as to whether you’d attend or not. Unless you’d talked to Bucky and he wanted you to be there to make sure he didn’t drink too much, then there wasn’t really any reason for you to go. Being the only fully sober person at a party wasn’t fun, and if you still hadn’t sorted things with Bucky, then it would only hurt to see him there, assuming that he’d be going.

However, after texting Pietro to ask if he was okay once you’d gotten back from the dance and getting no reply, it seemed like the party might’ve been the only place you could catch him and pull him aside to talk in person. If you managed to talk to him there, then you could leave as soon as it was done.

“Uh, yeah. I’ll talk to him then.”

“Good.” Wanda sighed happily through the phone. “Do you... wanna talk about what happened with Bucky?”

You hesitated for a moment, but decided against talking about him with her just yet. If you were going to talk to Bucky, you didn’t want anyone else’s thoughts on the situation conflicting yours. You needed to deal with him yourself; you could fill Wanda in later. “I’m gonna talk to him first. I told him that I’d text him and... I’m gonna text him now; he doesn’t deserve to be left in the dark for any longer.”

“Okay, I’ll let you get straight to it. It’ll all work out, (Y/N), I’m sure of it.”

“I hope you’re right, Wanda. Thank you.” The last part of your sentence came out as a whisper as you ended the call.

Great, now you had one of your best friends back.

The time read 11:17am. If Bucky wasn’t awake, then that was just tough. After mending things with Wanda and planning to apologise to Pietro on Friday, you were determined fix things with Bucky too.

You let out a deep exhale as you selected his contact, typed out a text and shakily hit the send button.

You: Hey, Buck. Could we meet at Carter’s in an hour?

He knew that it’d be to talk, you didn’t even have to put that in your message. You felt your phone ping within minutes of you sending the text.

Bucky: sure, i’ll see you then

The conversation you were about to have was definitely long overdue. If you could’ve told your sixteen year old self that you were actually going to talk about your feelings for Bucky with the boy himself, you wouldn’t have believed it in a million years.

But that’s exactly what you were about to do, and you were terrified.

* * *

“Hey, Peggy. Could I get two coffees, please?”

The sound of his voice made your eyes shoot up from the table. You mustn’t have heard the bell chime as he walked into the diner, your focus being on what the hell you were going to say to him.

Moments later, Bucky was sliding into the booth and sitting directly across from you. Leaning back in your seat, you allowed yourself to look up at the boy. He looked... unlike himself. A smile wasn’t playing on his lips like usual, his fingers were tapping against the table in a nervous manner, and his eyes didn’t resemble a clear blue sky like they always did.

Peggy quickly brought over the drinks, shooting Bucky a sympathetic smile as she walked away, noticing her friends’ slightly unhappy expression. Was it because of you? Were you the one that took the light from his eyes? The thought made you feel terrible, like someone was tugging harshly on your heart strings.

You decided that you’d be the first one to speak after taking a small sip of your hot coffee. It was you who arranged the meeting, anyway. “I’m sorry about last night, Bucky. It... it freaked me out when Wanda found us and I became super aware that we were about to kiss and-”

“Sweets,” He intervened, the pet name making you feel warmer than the drink in your hands. His expression softened as he noticed your anxious demeanour. “Remember, uh... remember when we said that we wouldn’t hide anything from each other anymore?”

You nodded, not entirely sure of where he was leading the conversation.

“Well, last night when I tried to kiss you... that was me trying not to hide anymore.”

It still didn’t feel real. Having Bucky try to kiss you and then tell you that he likes you in the span of two days felt like a dream. Good or bad, you weren’t necessarily sure.

There was a short silence while you thought about what the boy had just admitted, and he didn’t attempt to break it. Bucky knew that the whole situation had you pretty overwhelmed, and the last thing that he wanted to do was make you feel like you couldn’t express how you really felt about it.

Anxiety was bubbling in your mind; you could tell by the way your foot was tapping quickly against the tiled floor and how your could barely stop biting your bottom lip, along with the thoughts of school, your parents and ultimately your future putting doubts in your head about letting Bucky in and confessing how you felt. You tried to ignore them as best as you could, but they were still there, taunting you like devils on your shoulder.

“I wanted to kiss you.” You confessed, feeling your body ease at the sight of Bucky’s eyes lighting up. “I tried to tell myself that I didn’t, that’s why I was about to pull away. I wanted to, though - I know I did.”

Now it was Bucky’s turn to process things. He should’ve been jumping for joy. You just said that you wanted to kiss him, which meant he wasn’t an absolute idiot for attempting to trying to make a move on you. However, the boy knew it wasn’t so simple. He knew that there was probably hundreds of doubts and worries in your head at that moment, and that maybe things weren’t going to work out just yet. “I mean, I’m glad, but... why do I have a feeling there’s a catch?”

He knew you too well. “But... it can’t happen again.”

A crinkle formed in his brows. Well, that certainly took the smile off his face. “(Y/N)-”

You sighed, taking a quick sip of your coffee in attempt to calm your nerves. Perhaps telling him that you wanted to kiss him was a mistake. You should’ve just told him off the bat that nothing could happen so that you could go back to your regular life and he could go back to his. “Bucky, you know it can’t-”

“You wanted to kiss me too, (Y/N).” Bucky’s jaw was clenched slightly, a silent indication that he was pleading for you to tell him how you really felt, whether it would hurt him or not. He exhaled slowly, noticing how his words slipped through gritted teeth and relaxing his expression. “Doesn’t that mean something to you?”

“I mean, yeah, it does.” You raised your voice slightly, a little frustrated that he didn’t remotely understand where you were coming from. “It means that for some stupid reason, we decided that we wanted to kiss each other and completely forget that we’re just friends.”

Bucky couldn’t help but let out a laugh, much to your annoyance. The both of you knew what you said was frankly bullshit, but you weren’t exactly going to admit that.

“What?”

“I don’t think you’re telling the whole truth.”

“I am telling the whole truth.”

“No, you’re not.” The boy shook his head. “I know you; this isn’t you being honest, this is you holding things back because you’re scared.”

He wasn’t meant to say that last part, but he didn’t exactly regret saying it either. Bucky wasn’t oblivious to the fact that your parents made it impossible for you to express your true feelings, but you’d just admitted that you wanted to kiss him, and that was something. He wasn’t giving up on you that easily, even if it required some tough love.

Your eyes narrowed at him. “You’re right; you do know me, which is why you know that this...” You motioned your hand between the two of you. “...you and me, shouldn’t be anything more than what we already are. That ‘almost kiss’ shouldn’t have happened.”

“But it did.” Bucky stated, an unmissable flash of hurt in his baby blues which made your stomach turn. You were hurting him with every word that came from your mouth, which was exactly what you never wanted to happen.

“Bucky, I don’t know what you want me to say, but I’m not going to tell you that I have feelings for you.”

“Because you don’t have feelings for me? Or because you’re afraid of what’ll happen if you do?”

You could feel your bottom lip beginning to quiver, a feeling so foreign to you that it took you by surprise. Were you about to cry? Yeah, there no way that was happening. He’d hit a soft spot, and he’d done it on purpose. You didn’t want to lie to him, but fuck, if you didn’t want to just bolt from your seat in the booth and pretend that you’d never even invited him to Carter’s...

“Because we’re both just gonna get hurt in the end, and I care about you too much to do that to you.”

The words left your lips faster than you could even process them, but it was true. You knew Bucky well, and you were sure that he’d be a great boyfriend someday, to someone who deserved him. It didn’t matter how much you wanted to grab him and kiss him, or how much time you could spend just staring at his smile; you weren’t girlfriend material. How could you possibly love someone and let yourself be vulnerable in front of them when you’d never been taught how to express your feelings? Suppressing them was unfortunately the only thing your parents had taught you from a young age. They never prepared you for when you actually found someone that you considered wanting to open up to.

Natahsa’s words replayed in your head. Whatever stopped you from kissing him shouldn’t matter if you care about him. And she was right; all the thoughts about your parents and school and opening yourself up shouldn’t matter at all with Bucky. But they did. They haunted your mind every single day, and Bucky didn’t deserve having the burden of them fall onto him too.

The boy opposite you had went quiet, eyebrows furrowed in thought and lips pursed nervously. It was at the point you decided that the conversation was over. You weren’t sure what would become of you and Bucky, whether you’d be able to fix your friendship, or whether things were only going to fall apart even more. The latter option hurt to even think about, but you didn’t think you could rule it out at that point.

You chugged the rest of your coffee and began to slide you way out of the booth, regretting even showing your face at the stupid Winter Formal. If you hadn’t have went, everything would still be the same, and that’s what you wanted. You wanted everything to go back to normal, right?

“Wait.” Bucky suddenly shot up from his seat, his hand encircling your wrist before you could pace towards the exit of the diner. There was an apologetic glint in his eye, and his lips were pressed into a straight line. “Where does this leave us?”

The corner of your lips raised ever so slightly into a sad smile. “I don’t know, Buck. I just need time to think, and I think you do too.”

His hand dropped from your arm to reach into his pocket, pulling out a ten dollar bill and placing it on the table where your two lone coffee cups sat. “I already know how I feel about you, (Y/N); I’ve known since the moment you rejected my ass last year.”

A weak chuckle fell from your lips as the memory reappeared in your mind. You’d felt really bad after that day, knowing that you felt the same for him but you’d shut him down anyway. Bucky hadn’t minded, though. He knew at that time that your parents had a massive hold over you, and that a relationship of any type definitely wasn’t on the cards for you. However, things weren’t the same anymore. You weren’t wanting to follow in your parents footsteps any longer, and you and Bucky knew more about each other than you did yourselves. Back then, Bucky could deal with just being your friend, but he wasn’t sure if that was true anymore.

“Would you hate me if I said I didn’t want something more?” You asked tentatively, your eyes meeting his. “If I said that we should just stay friends?”

You and him both knew that was the opposite of what you wanted, but you had to ask. If you were at risk of losing Bucky all together because you were too afraid of your own feelings for him, then you needed to know, and you needed to hear it from him.

The boy shook his head with a shy smile. “I could never hate you, sweets.”

After a few moments of quiet, you nodded slowly before beginning to turn to the exit of the diner again, feeling a little relieved at his answer. There was nothing else for you to say on your part, all you needed now was time. Time to think, time to process, time away from the boy that you only wanted to spend all of your time with.

“But... I don’t think we could ever just be friends.”

The words made you pause your movement for a short second, and Bucky didn’t have to see your face to know that they’d struck a chord, because he was right. He was completely fucking right and you had no idea what to do about it.

You and Bucky could never just be friends again after the dance, and frankly, you’d never been just friends. There was always a part of you that wanted more with him, and a part of him that wanted more with you. Even though you couldn’t see it then, you could see it now clear as day.

Refusing to turn back around, you continued towards the doors of the diner, and soon enough you were out of Bucky’s sight.

The boy couldn’t lie to himself; he was scared shitless. The conversation that you’d just had with him could’ve been the last, for all he knew. You could ultimately decide that he isn’t what you want. You could cut him out of your life with the snap of your fingers if you really wanted to. It was your decision to make, and Bucky had done all he could to try and convince you that there was nothing wrong with choosing him.

Even if you didn’t want him, even if you decided you didn’t want anything more with him and that his feelings for you had just amounted to nothing, he’d be okay. It would take some time, but he’d be alright eventually, because he didn’t regret anything that had happened between the two of you from the moment you’d met each other.

Meeting you was the thing that Bucky was most grateful for in this world, and despite whatever was going to happen next, falling for you was something that Bucky would never live to regret.

* * *

Taglist:

@americas-ass-assins @itz-kira @stevieboyharrington @lovvliies @bxrnsfeyson @broco8

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes reader insert

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theseadagiodays · 4 years

Text

May 4, 2020

This is Not a Performance

Irving H Bolano’s incredible repurposed newspaper fashion for the Met Gala Challenge on Twitter #HFMetGala2020

May the Fourth be With You as you reach the next chapter of this current sci-fi drama we seem to be living through. As the saying goes, reality can be stranger than fiction. But it just happens to be a many red-eyed virus rather than an evil, black-masked father that we’re fighting as we all walk around like Storm Troopers.

There are so many aspects of our lives, during Covid, which make it feel like we are actors in a make-believe story. First of all, we’ve all become movie stars, with our faces, homes, and even pets showcased on our own silver screens. As isolated as we are, our private lives now play out in the public sphere more than ever - no paparazzi required. For some, this invasion of privacy is unwelcomed. But for many people, it satisfies a secret longing to share themselves with a wider audience. After all, deep down, everyone wants to be seen and heard (I guess, me included, since I have this blog, after all). It’s why TikTok and YouTube and Facebook have become multi-billion dollar companies so quickly. And now, while this pandemic is a harsh daily reminder of the impermanence of all things, it makes sense that these digital missives are an attempt to seek immortality, in some strange way.

As someone whose work responds to human’s need to have a voice, I truly get why this is the case. And I love that this time has turned housewives into opera stars, and health care workers into hip hop dancers, and housepets into circus performers. But, at the same time, I have become very aware of the masks that we wear, even inside our homes, to portray a certain self to the world that may stray quite far from our authentic selves. The expression “dance like no one is watching” acknowledges the fact that we all tend to perform when we have an audience, and perhaps we’re only truly ourselves when we don’t. I understand that the way we “perform” ourselves online gives each of us a chance to reinvent the fictions we want our stories to have. So, while I surely take some guilty pleasure from intimate glimpses into strangers’ lives, I also do so with a certain skepticism about the veracity of what I’m seeing.

This became particularly true for me when I received a recent link from my friend and amazing singer/songwriter, Dominique Fricot. Capitalizing on this current trend of oversharing, he cleverly asked his fans to film their morning routines for the music video of his new song, Wake Up, by his duo, Flora Falls. Dom’s warm tenor voice blended with his partner’s breathy tones feel just like a lazy morning in bed. But I’ll leave it up to you to decide just how accurate these portrayals of people’s idyllic daytime rituals actually are.

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=EbsqXou5FeY

May 5, 2020

Homeschool Heroes

About twenty years ago, I was invited to adjudicate a youth music competition in the Yukon. Travelling to one of the northernmost inhabited spots on earth, I imagined that my greatest surprise might have been a polar bear or Northern Lights sighting. But it turned out to be something entirely different. Among the 25,000 residents of the thriving metropolis of Whitehorse exists a treasure trove of talent. I could not believe the incredibly honed skills and nuanced expression with which these 11-18 year-olds played. Wondering why, I developed a theory that I now call SLoW: Sheltered Living Wonder. When long, dark days, cold climates or pandemics force people indoors, they tend to spend inordinate amounts of time on creative endeavors and skill development. In other words, they slow down and take time for wonder.

This theory has surely applied during these past few months of sheltering in place. One of the most remarkable examples has been the inventiveness that many of my friends have brought to their first attempts with homeschooling. So, I wanted to give a few shout outs to some of these Homeschool Heroes and the highly imaginative projects they’ve done with their kids.

Stunning Easter Eggs made from natural materials and dye, by my friend Jane Cox and her kids (Botany lesson)

Candy Covid virus, made by Amelia, my friend Jen Sanke’s daughter, as she learned about the virus’ proteins (Biology lesson)

But perhaps the prize for most complex homeschool project has to go to my architect friend, Bryn Davidson, who upon returning from Australia, in late March, had to fully quarantine for 2-weeks. So, with his 5-year old son Bei as helper, this Physics lesson allowed him to enjoy home delivery beer while in isolation. Just brilliant!

https://youtu.be/FF9-2dWoUtc

May 6, 2020

Living in livestream

So today, 5 million British Columbian’s awaited our “sentence” with baited breath, as word spread that our provincial prime minister would deliver the Re-Open BC plan at 3 pm. I have to admit, it felt a bit like when you were “grounded” as an adolescent and then your parents returned certain privileges to you. Of course, I’m well aware that our province has already been far more licentious than many places around the globe. We’ve been fortunate to maintain reasonably low numbers of infection (just over 2,000), with counts as low as 8 new cases per day, at this point. So, while our provincial parks closed, our beaches never did. While we were encouraged, within a reasonable range of home, to be active outdoors, we were not restricted to walks only within the 100 metre radius of our house, as my Israeli friends were. And while we could still shop at gardening and furniture stores, to make sheltering at home more enjoyable, New Zealanders had nothing but grocery stores and pharmacies open, for two months.

I have sensed the gratitude my fellow Vancouverites have felt about these privileges. But that does not mean that we aren’t still anxious to return to other aspects of living which we’ve missed. When lockdown began, ominously on the Ides of March (the 15th), I’d harboured a secret hope that certain restrictions might be lifted on my birthday (exactly two months later). And it turns out that Phase Two of the BC ReOpen plan will commence on May 19th, just 4 days later than I’d hoped. What I most look forward to experiencing again are small gatherings with friends, (we’ll soon be allowed to socialize in public with up to 10 people); meals inside certain restaurants and pubs (those that are able to function within WorkPlace BC’s safety regulations); visits to registered massage therapists; and hugs with select people, (”using one’s own ‘risk assessment’.”)

But in the long-range plan, the harsh reality for artists has been laid out, as Phase Four (which includes resuming large-venue concerts, conventions, and international travel) can not occur until either a vaccine has been developed, an effective treatment plan is widely available, or herd immunity is achieved. And this is not estimated to occur until mid-2021 or later. So, the prospects are still bleak for symphony orchestras, opera and dance companies, artists who perform in crowded bars, or musicians who travel for arena shows and festivals. This likely means that in order to satisfy audiences’ need to access live performance, and for artists to continue to share their creativity, livestream formats will still have to persist for some time. Therefore, I thought I’d share a few regular weekly livestream arts events here, both from Vancouver, LA & NY.

Canadian National Live Art Champion, Dmitri Sirenko, who we featured at our non-profit’s annual benefit on February 20th, 2020

Every Monday Night at 7 pm PST (Vancouver) Poetry Slam: https://www.facebook.com/Vancouverpoetryslam/

Every Thursday at 5 pm PST (LA): LIVE Art Battles - Watch painters do their magic in just 20 minutes: https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCWJoWGVwzGtk99nTOCib9vg

Every Thursday at 8 pm EST (NY): Spotlight on Plays - famous actors perform readings of theatre pieces, online: https://www.broadwaysbestshows.com/post/the-best-of-series/

May 7, 2020

Collateral Blessings

So many thoughtful writers are adding to the discourse, as we all strive to make meaning from what can feel like a senseliess time. I have so appreciated the abundance with which people are sharing these missives, right now. Every day, bursts of inspiration or flickers of insight come my way, thru texts, emails and Facebook. Like adventurers, traveling together thru the dark of night, we shine light on guideposts, anywhere we can find them, as we collectively quench each other’s thirst for wisdom.

One of the most profound writings I‘ve recently discovered came from a stranger’s blog. In The Examined Family, Courtney Martin, without ever diminishing the gravity of the havoc that this virus has wreaked, writes about some of the assets that have also come out of this time. New friendships with neighbors. A long-neglected puzzle completed with her kids. The time to draw and truly notice an artichoke in her back garden. My good friend Juan calls these collateral blessings. This reference to the accidental gifts that this cruel virus has given us, is a beautiful twist on “collateral damage”, a term coined to explain accidental friendly-fire deaths during the Gulf War. Commenting on the anticipatory nostalgia that she projects she will feel about certain things, once this time has passed, Courtney writes:

“I instantly feel overwhelmed at the prospect of schedules and stuff. I don’t want to go back to our former accumulation or frenetic pace. I don’t want to stop texting (my neighbor) my little triumphs. I don’t want to forget about the artichokes in the garden. I don’t ever want to forget this happened--the grief and the beauty of it. I’m not even sure that will be possible, but if it were, I wouldn’t want it. I don’t want to vote like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to eat like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to consume like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to schedule like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to mother or daughter or befriend or neighbor like it didn’t happen. I don’t want to sit inside this little life, noticing and appreciating and breathing, like it didn’t happen. There is unnecessary suffering all around me, and inside of me, too, but there is also necessary meaning. May we hold on to that.”

You can read her full entry here: https://courtney.substack.com/p/unnecessary-suffering-and-necessary?token=eyJ1c2VyX2lkIjo3OTg0NDcyLCJwb3N0X2lkIjozNzU1NDMsIl8iOiJCTnk2VyIsImlhdCI6MTU4NzA1MjgyMCwiZXhwIjoxNTg3MDU2NDIwLCJpc3MiOiJwdWItMjA5MjIiLCJzdWIiOiJwb3N0LXJlYWN0aW9uIn0.puI9NMne-783ypInpvTkJ96T237WcrTo2ItDhqlkMiY

May 8, 2020

Nostalgia

I’m rarely one prone to nostalgia. My childhood photo albums are in storage. I have no family heirlooms displayed in my home. My tendency is to revel in the present or dream about the future. But this pandemic has strangely turned me into a sentimental fool. Perhaps this return to simpler times, where we seldom shop, where we wander mostly by foot, or where we get to know our neighbors better, makes us long for the past in certain ways.

For me, I’ve honored this by resurrecting my daily teenage Twizzler habit - a candy I’ve rarely eaten since then, but that now feels so satisfying during my Netflix & Chill evenings (while watching films almost as old like Groundhog Day & Anchorman).

I’m also listening a lot to Old School Hip Hop, where the explative-free rhymes of the 90’s feel so strangely innocent. It’s refreshing to listen to these musicians spit verses that merely celebrate the joys of dance and rap, rather than ranting about gun violence and other societal ills. Run DMC It’s Tricky (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l-O5IHVhWj0) and Beastie Boys Body Movin’ (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uvRBUw_Ls2o) happen to be personal favorites.

Last month, I was tickled by an old memory while planting a lilac bush in my backyard. I suddenly remembered a story about my college boyfriend, whom I hadn’t thought of in 30 years. Our relationship started a bit secretively, so as not to hurt his ex’s feelings. So, one May afternoon, we snuck away to a distant park that was hosting a Lilac Festival. Unfortunately, our ruse was quickly spoiled when a candid photo of our picnic under the purple blooms was plastered all over the front page of the Rochester Democrat and Chronicle the next morning.

Another sweet memory returned in culinary form. Every Tuesday, for 7 years, my mother selflessly drove me an hour from home and back, for my flute lesson. And to break up the long drive, we regularly stopped at Bickford’s Pancake House for my favorite adolescent treat: breakfast for dinner. Their specialty was the Dutch Baby Apple. And I finally made my first homemade attempt at this deceptively easy delicacy, last Tuesday.

This has also been a time to return to bedtime stories (some I’ve read to friends’ kids, and others for adults to hear.) The Great Realisation by British performance artist, Tom Foolery, has been making the social media rounds. But in case you missed this touching tale that looks back on this time as if the tale is being told in a not-so-distant future, it’s a wistful story about some aspects of modern life that we may never long for in the future:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nw5KQMXDiM4

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artificialqueens · 5 years

Text

cat got your tongue? (bob x naomi) -- frenchy

a/n: hello!! i dropped 2 fics and dipped, but hi again! i was looking through some requests for an idea on what people are wanting to read, and especially any ships people want, and i found a few requests for bob and specifically bob/naomi. i got BIG inspired because i love me a more rare pair AND i love them both so much, they are the cutest!! luv them. i was hesitant to share/write bc i’m not sure if many ship, but i decided to fully send it anyway. anyway enjoy!! <3

Bob buzzed with anticipation, bouncing on his heels as he stood in the airport terminal, hands clutching a thick cardboard poster and eyes on a search mission. He nudged his glasses up absentmindedly, trying his best to keep his sign visible among the dozens of reuniting families, tourists, and rolling suitcases. There was always something about airports that put Bob on the edge, whether it be the pressure of being on time for a flight or the fear of delays and being stuck wandering for hours – though neither gave reason for his current flurry of nerves, as he wasn’t here for a flight himself, but instead to pick up a friend. He had felt the building anxiety all morning, but lacked the ability to pinpoint why it had chosen to plague him today, and potentially sour what was intended to be a pleasant reunion.

With an impatient click of his tongue, Bob couldn’t even resume pondering his anxiety, since it was quickly replaced with annoyance. Figures Naomi had to take her sweet time coming off the plane. Bob could already picture her stopping to snap a picture against the window, imagining the way she’d caption it “hi, new york” for her Instagram story, or write something about it being “golden hour”. It was almost too vivid in his mind.

The (probably not) imaginary scenario he was in the works of fabricating was prematurely abandoned by the sight of a certain leggy supermodel in the distance. Immediately perking up, Bob tightened his grip on his sign, his face breaking out in a shining grin.

His face already began to cramp as he waited for Naomi to look up from her phone, presumably texting him to see where he was, where they could meet up. If only she’d glance up and see him, but no, she instead slowed down, phone coming to press against her ear. Bob wished he could make a moving walkway appear in front of her, something to glide her over so he could whack her with the sign he spent a half hour making.

He decided against grabbing the phone that vibrated in his pocket, instead staying put, hoping it wouldn’t be long before she noticed him. With the other passengers slowly dissolving from around him, it made it almost impossible for them not to see each other. Naomi finally took a good look around her, eyes meeting Bob’s and a smile following not long after.

Pocketing her phone, Naomi started towards Bob, but stopped midway with a squint of her eyes and her attention on Bob’s sign. “Oh my Godddd,” he heard her drawl in the that voice he missed hearing, a voice he’d be hearing on his TV for the next – hopefully - several weeks.

“There’s my All Star!” Bob spread out his arms, wrapping himself around his friend as soon as they were close enough, feeling accomplished in how he had achieved a Naomi Smalls eye roll within only seconds of their reunion.

“Bob, you’re totally making a scene,” Naomi groaned, but still lifted her arms in a reciprocation of his hug – only after first squirming under her dramatic friend’s stronghold.

She didn’t see the way Bob was fully cheesing until they had pulled apart, and the sight made her heart simultaneously melt and hurt. It wasn’t often that she saw Bob look so sincere and even less often that they even saw each other in person due to their schedules and events.

“I missed you, bitch! Can I miss my friends in public and cry like a little toddler without fear of judgement?” Bob moved to link arms with Naomi, which she didn’t fight him on.

“No.”

“And to think I was going to take you home with me,” Bob mimicked Naomi’s eye roll when she featured it a second time. “You like the sign, huh? Don’t even answer me, I know you do,” Bob shrugged proudly, like it was no big deal, the sign that read “THIS WAY TO THE DRAG RACE HALL OF FAME!” in bold print and tacky star decorations held limply from his right hand.

She nudged his shoulder with her own, their arms not breaking their link.

The teasing moment died when they both remarked each other’s fond smiles. “What?” Bob chuckled, nudging Naomi back as they walked away from the gates. He wondered if the blush on her cheeks was just the Universe playing tricks on him. A cruel trick that caused a blush of his own to spread, one he was hopeful she didn’t notice.

“I like it. And, like. Thanks for coming to pick me up. It’s been - oh my Gosh - stressful as hell. All Stars was something else, girl. Season Eight had nothing on the past few weeks,” Naomi sighed, focusing her eyes on the ground below them. The tiles of the airport floor. The way the lines moved underneath them. “And I’ve never been happier to be in New York, even if just for a few days.”

“Well, you’ll have to tell me everything. Spare no details, or else. You already know that I’ll find out through Monét if you lie about how bad you did in all the challenges–”

“Oh my God, you’re ridiculous,” Naomi pushed him away with a laugh. She led the way towards the baggage claim, Bob following closely behind her, laughing heartily at his own joke.

+++

“Like, the Henny. Stacy Layne Motherfuckin’ Matthews, Bob. It was crazy. I was starstruck, honestly,” Naomi laughed, one leg crossed under her and the other hanging off the edge of the sofa. They were settled in Bob’s living room, avoiding the film equipment and lighting setup in the corner that was used for his podcast with Monét. Naomi scrolled through her phone as Bob watched her, mug in his hands and affectionate smile on his face.

“I’m so happy for you, and super jealous. I might have to start a real girl group with Stacy. So, this means you didn’t go home first, right?” Bob segued, more serious. He could tell Naomi wasn’t keen on talking about it immediately, but he was dying to know. “You don’t have to tell me everything, but I’d rather be prepared for when I see it on TV.”

“I know, Bob. And you know that I’m not supposed to say anything–”

“Stacy Layne Matthews?”

“That’s different.”

Bob sighed, but he knew she had no obligation to spill. He’d just have to wait like everyone else. “Okay. Okay, yeah, that’s fine. Don’t tell me about how you won All Stars 4, I’ll just have to see it for myself.”

“Bob,” Naomi warned, shaking her head with a sad smile. “I trust you. I didn’t,” she shrugged half-heartedly.

“Didn’t what?”

“Win. I didn’t win,” Naomi pouted dramatically, but Bob could see the real sadness in her eyes, beyond her trying to act dramatic to put him off. “I won a lip sync. I made the top four. I don’t know who won yet, but I didn’t. So.”

“Top four! Oh my God, Naomi,” Bob isolated the good news he heard, and placed his mug off to the side in order to give her a congratulatory hug. “Fuck the crown, or whatever. That’s still a big deal. Farther than I thought you’d make it, if we’re bein’ honest,” Bob added in a deadpan, the laugh threatening to break his act.

But Naomi didn’t laugh like she normally would, still facing Bob on the sofa but her eyes were downcast.

“Hey,” Bob scooted forward, placing a hand on Naomi’s shoulder comfortingly. “I know you wanted it. But you should still be proud of yourself.”

Naomi nodded, her phone long abandoned in order to preoccupy herself with the hem of her shirt. “Yeah. I was just, like, so close. It still sucks.”

She looked up, and she could’ve sworn they weren’t sharing each other’s space so closely before. Something in her jumped, flipping the switch to send her heartbeat into its maximum speed setting. When did Bob get so close? Why wasn’t he giving her a consoling hug and scooting back away?

“Um,” she muttered, barely audible between them. If Bob had just leaned back away, she wouldn’t have made the mistake of glancing down towards his lips. She wouldn’t have looked back up, hopeful to meet his eyes, but instead catch him doing the same. She wouldn’t have had the chance to kiss him back when he finally closed the distance between them.

Naomi had thought about kissing Bob before. She imagined it for the first time during the filming for season eight, after they had properly met. After being in a competition with him for a few weeks. After joking around with each other in the “Shade Tree” room, in front of the camera, Naomi on Bob’s lap. After hugging each other and saying they loved each other, solidifying their new friendship, Naomi still wishing she could beat Bob but knowing she never would.

Bob had thought about kissing Naomi before, many times. After being friends for two years. After all the times they visited each other’s shows, or hung out with fellow queens and gravitated towards each other in the larger groups. After Naomi came to watch Bob in ‘Angels in America’, or spent time at his house watching Pose, or was a guest on his podcast. After Naomi was away for weeks and didn’t win All Stars 4.

Neither of them were ready for how it really was, in the small living room, on Bob’s sofa.

Whether this was just Bob cheering her up or not, Naomi took the opportunity to kiss him back without giving it much thought or question. It was timid, and a little shy, but Bob felt like he was growing wings from the kiss alone.

“You just kissed me,” Naomi whispered after they had parted, like they weren’t the only two people in the room, like someone could have heard or seen. She blinked at him, eyes adjusting, her blank expression not giving Bob much to work with in terms of reading her. She peered into him, not with perplexity or shock, but with a subtle awe. Her lips were still puckered, as if anticipating a second kiss. He battled with the idea of answering her, and the idea of leaning back in again. The only option he didn’t have was leaning too far away – a rope threatening to sever them both in half if he so much as considered it. And he didn’t. He couldn’t trade away the comfort and familiarity he felt pressed so close to her, even if he had just risked ruining that with a single kiss.

“Yeah,” Bob nodded slowly, his ordinarily bold self gone within moments, rendering the older queen speechless. Stomach doing somersaults, voice quivering. All unusual for someone so typically assertive. “I’m… I don’t know,” He answered, riddled with uncertainty. His answer reflected his feelings on both what he did, why he did it, and what her reaction was. He didn’t know anything in those few seconds. Or were they minutes? He was going mad in an attempt to gauge her reaction. She had kissed back, but that didn’t reassure or satisfy his conscience; instinct and feelings lacked synonymity in moments like this. Naomi not making an effort to push him away or gasp in disgust didn’t mean she shared his long-lasting feelings.

He could easily pass this off as a joke, right? It wouldn’t be off-brand for Bob, to fuck around and maybe go too far with a joke, a kiss that he could easily claim meant nothing but a friendly pass. Could save him from the inevitable rejection.

Except that claiming the kiss as a joke wouldn’t warrant how tense the moment they shared now was, the moment after the kiss. A friendly peck was one thing – the tenderness and earnestness in that kiss was reasonable cause to ax the idea of saying that it wasn’t a big deal. That this wasn’t really happening.

Naomi narrowed her eyes, worrying her bottom lip. “Why sorry?” Bob wondered if the smile he heard in her voice was authentic or all in his head. He risked a peek at her lips, a single corner slyly inching upwards. Was she fucking with him, like he had debated doing?

His anxiety was relieved by Naomi raising a hand, her fingers barely ghosting along his jaw, slower than either of them would have liked.

Bob held his breath.

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” she continued after a beat, making Bob realize that he never answered her. “What’s wrong, Bob?” Naomi pouted innocently; Bob noted how her eyes harbored mischievousness, still. “Cat got your tongue all of a sudden?”

“No, uh,” Bob cleared his throat with a shake to his head, desperate to not let this die at the account of suddenly becoming a deer caught in headlights. “I thought – I didn’t want to, like. I didn’t mean for it to be –”

“Bob.”

“You can totally ignore me for at least a week –”

“Bob,” Naomi raised her voice, effectively overpowering Bob, who was oblivious to how fast he had been rambling. “For the love of God. Stop talking. For, like, once in your life?” If anyone else had said this, Bob would have jumped straight into defense mode, but the fond look in Naomi’s eyes and the humor in her tone prevented that. “You were doing so well.”

She was fucking with him. This wasn’t about Bob, or any kind of reciprocation – she went almost 5 weeks with no attention. He didn’t want to hear her admit it.

“– I’m just fucking with you,” Bob screwed his eyes shut in an extreme wince after hearing the words come out of his own mouth.

“What?” He couldn’t deny the sudden and genuine confusion in her voice this time. “What do you mean?”

“I’m, uh,” Bob laughed unnaturally, pushing it into the empty space between them. “It’s just a joke, girl. Testing out my acting chops for my next audition.” Bob played along with the wicked, brutal joke he just turned his admission of feelings into. He could deal with Naomi’s frustration with a prank more than he could handle her laughing in his face if she knew what that kiss really meant.

“Um,” Naomi was the one at a loss for words this time, “oh. Wait, like – what? You’re serious?” She looked at him weirdly, seemingly unconvinced. And, God, how could she be? She waited a moment, her weird look urging Bob to take back what he said – but he didn’t. “Okay,” she nodded curtly, pulling away from the comfort of sharing Bob’s personal space – the rope that tethered them together was left frayed, laying on the floor before Bob, as she made a beeline for the door.

“Where are you going?” Bob watched her in panic, the somersaults in his stomach bouncing at record speed, wondering how his plan to save the situation only made it worse. And more anxiety inducing. Why wasn’t she laughing? Swatting at him and rolling her eyes in the way that she does when he playfully insults her makeup or makes fun of her for being younger than some of the shoes in his closet? “Naomi, girl,” Bob ignored his own aside, following her and stopping only a few feet away as she struggled to slip on her shoes. “It wasn’t that deep. I’m sorry. If it was weird. You were upset, I thought it’d distract you, or make you laugh. I was waiting for you to shove me away and laugh, or call me gross, or… I don’t know.”

With a heavy sigh, Naomi looked over her own shoulder. “No, yeah, I know. It sure made me forget all about losing All Stars. Ha ha. It was funny, see? You’ll kill your audition. I just forgot that I have to grab lunch with, uh, with Kim.”

“It’s six o’clock.”

“Kim slept late.”

“She’s not even in New York. Naomi, come on,” Bob reached out, laying a hand gently on her shoulder. Ignoring how his heart stung when she recoiled. “You’re mad.”

“Yeah, I am,” Naomi wasted no time arguing, turning her head back around and fumbling with the lock on the door. She was fixed on leaving.

“Can you just turn around, like, for a second?” Bob grew impatient, knowing he couldn’t let her walk out. “Please?”

He had a hand on his hip when he heard the fumbling stop, and when Naomi slowly turned around to face him. He opened his mouth to speak, but Naomi beat him to it. Her throat was reddening, rising from below her collared shirt and up towards her face.

“It was a joke? It was really something to distract me? You thought it’d make me laugh?” Her voice was taut, forced. Bob knew she was holding back. Whether it was a sob or a string of insults, he wasn’t sure.

Bob hadn’t expected the sudden confrontation when she had been so intent on leaving, and scoffed in offense. He laughed incredulously, glancing around as if there was someone else or perhaps a camera in the room. He couldn’t look at her, not for more than a few seconds at a time. “It was a joke, I just told you that.”

“Bob, stop,” Naomi groaned in frustration, and if Bob would have blinked, he could’ve missed the glassy look in her eyes, the threat of tears. “Even I know you don’t make jokes like that. That was low, and the weirdest timing for something like that. It didn’t feel like a joke. And it wasn’t funny, not really.”

“I’m-” Bob looked back up at her, eyes wide. “Naomi, girl, whoa-”

“I’ve been waiting for you to do that since we filmed. Filmed our season,” Naomi’s arms were crossed, her eyes watering. “That’s, like, two years, Bob.” She bowed her head, in a way that would have hid her face had she been wearing a wig.

Bob stood wide eyed, frozen. His eyes didn’t blink for at least 30 seconds. “Naomi, I…” He didn’t know what to say, searching for the right words to fix this quicker than he managed to ruin it. “Really?”

“Yeah. Yeah, really.”

“You never said anything.”

Naomi laughed, but there was no humor in it. “I never said anything because I was afraid you’d do what you just did. That you’d make it all into a joke. Think that I’m a joke,” she placed a hand on the doorknob behind her, the confidence that fueled her confrontation faltering.

“Wait, don’t. Please stay. I chose the worst way to do this,” Bob stepped forward, eyes pleading. “You can hate me, unfollow me even, but I can’t let you leave thinking I meant any of that. I don’t even have an audition booked,” he admitted softly, but didn’t expect her to believe him. He wasn’t really proving to be the most trustworthy person. He really thought he did something, huh? Beyond fucking up both their years of friendship and something that could have gone beyond? “I… Like you? More than a friend, or another sister, or whatever. Genuinely like you. I just happen to be a huge fucking idiot and did something about it before coming to terms with the fact that you don’t feel that way. Thought I could cover it up, but I had to kiss you at least once. I didn’t really expect you to kiss me back, so I guess… I guess I panicked?“

“You panicked because I kissed you back? Oh my God, that is so backwards, Bob. You’re so… You’re such an idiot. I say it all the time, but I’m serious,” Naomi raised her eyebrows in disbelief, accompanying it with a shake of her head.

They stared at each other for a moment, regarding the other, and also this whole fucked up situation. The misunderstanding and how stupid the both of them were, how neither knew how to communicate.

“We’re both idiots,” Naomi continued, a smile growing. Bob couldn’t help but match it.

“You can say that again. So, uh. Can I kiss you again and not ruin it this time?”

“Please.”

Bob stepped forward, arm reaching for Naomi’s waist to pull her close, their lips meeting again in a kiss Bob definitely preferred to the first one.

She instinctively brought both hands up to the side of Bob’s head, pulling him closer and making the timidity of their kiss obsolete. Making a surprised noise, Bob gave way to let Naomi take control of the kiss, his head spinning. She felt him wrap his arms fully around her waist, both of them trying to close the distance that didn’t even exist between them anymore.

“Wait,” Naomi pulled away, taking a large breath. “Can I just say. I’m really glad you were joking about that audition, because you definitely would not have gotten the part. Your acting has gotten much worse. Really unconvincing, Bob.”

“You’re such a bitch,” he smiled lazily back at her, positive that she could sense the relief that flowed from him as his shoulders visibly relaxed. Their laughs mingled and died together as they started for another kiss, Bob stopped right before his lips met Naomi’s. “Can I just say, you’re a winner. Too good for All Stars, honestly. To me, you didn’t lose,” he laid a hand on her neck, sliding toward the back of her head. He leaned into her side, mouth nearly meeting where her jaw and ear met. “Twice,” Bob added in a mock-seductive whisper, exuding an instinctively hearty laugh and gentle shove from Naomi.

“I hate you,” she laughed sarcastically, shaking her head at the sheer ridiculousness he insisted upon even during such a tender moment. “Aaaaand you just killed the mood.” Naomi gave a sigh of disapproval, but Bob could tell she held no authentic contempt.

“Yeah? Well I just thought of something that might make this,” he gestured between them, raising his brow, “a little complicated.”

Naomi narrowed her eyes, puzzled, but had to smile weakly at his acknowledgement toward whatever they were, with or without labeling it. “Go on.”

“I think Monét’s gonna take it personally when she finds out I’m not rooting for her to win All Stars,” Bob admitted, eliciting a laugh from the both of them, Naomi throwing her head back. She swatted at him playfully after catching her breath.

“Bob, you already know I’m not going to win. That was, like, what started this,” Naomi enunciated her words slowly, making it clear that she was stating the obvious. “I know you’re older than me, but girl, is your memory already going down the toilet?”

“Pfft, you wish, crazy bitch,” Bob sneered, endearment flashing in his smile and humor in his voice. “I know you won’t. Your fans knew you had no chance of winning season eight but did that stop them? Not that there were many of them,” they gasped in unison, Naomi in offense and Bob mocking her on cue. “Don’t mean I won’t be the biggest, most obnoxious Naomi Smalls advocate in the bar – nay, on the street.”

“You’re ridiculous,” Naomi matched his affectionate look, exposing her sarcasm. She wrapped her long arms around his shoulders, effectively pulling him back from when she had shoved him away, leaning their foreheads together.

“Ridiculous? Maybe. But a winner? Absolutely,” Bob emphasized the final word, his beam matched Naomi’s as they leaned into another kiss, “And I’m not talking about Drag Race this time.”

#rpdr fanfiction #bob the drag queen #naomi smalls #bob x naomi #fluff #angst #hurt/comfort #a little bit of it anyway #frenchy #and i oop #rare pair #writing this fully made me ship #canon compliant #s8 #on set fic #submission

35 notes · View notes

chenoehi · 4 years

Note

1, 10, 17, 18, 44, 49 for the bts asks!!💕

👋👋👋 Thank you for these questions! They made me think lol (also you're an MVP for always keeping up with me when I live blog performances 😭)

FUN BTS ASKS <-

1. How and when did you get into BTS?

This is the shorter version bc I'm working on a personal post about this actually:

When: Last week of October 2018 in Orlando, Florida, where I was 'vacationing' while also working and basically having one of the most miserable, low weeks of my life.

How: I'd known about them since at least 2017 and watched them perform at the AMAs from afar, I listened to DNA after that, the song didn't grab me (it still doesn't 😭), and for a while I was seeing BTS content come across my tl, specifically Jimin content and he became my recruitment fairy, but the day LY in Paris had also happened recently and jikook decided to do them and all of a sudden a blog I followed spammed my tl with the jikook lap incident. At that point I'd seen BTS trending on tumblr tons of times and I saw them trending for the Waste it On Me teasers. I got interested and I listened to it when it came out but I was totally confused bc they were singing in English. So that led to me watching the classic YouTube "Who Are BTS?" videos which led me to watch one video that tested your knowledge of their voices and played clips for you to guess, and that led to my absolute obsession with Let Me Know which led to a mini breakdown when I couldn't find the song on Spotify so I listened to every. damn. song. starting. from. love yourself. Until I realized I could just Google the English lyrics and find the song that way. And then the Muster DVD content came out or was circulating literally at the same time so I got to see all the nice KM content and yeah, I basically just got hooked over the course of my week in Orlando, I walked around Disney Springs blasting Anpanman in my headphones, worked all through the night with Magic Shop, slept with my headphones on and The Tturh Untold in my ears, all because they're crackheads I love and not to be dramatic and shit but they kind of saved me when I was drowning.

10. Your favorite cover of BTS? (Doesn’t matter if it’s one of Jungkook, Taehyung, Jin, etc.)

I guess this means covers of BTS songs that other artists have done right? I really don't listen to many covers of BTS except sometimes I listen to piano versions on SoundCloud. I do listen to a cover of "The Truth Untold" by Emma Heesters on Spotify. It's probably not the best cover but I just haven't really sought out any others. .

17. Whose fashion style do you like the most?

Hmm. Well, Jimin is our pretty boy and I do always like seeing what he's wearing, I love Hoseok's style, I feel like Namjoon, Jin, and Yoongi are more ambiguous, and I like Taehyung's unique style.

But, it's JK. Big. Black. Comfy.

18. Which member matches with your personality the most?

Yoongi/Namjoon/Taehyung

I'm like Yoongi in the sense that neither of us tend to be the most outgoing or life of the party, he can be very quiet when he wants to be and he's pretty laid back in general. We also both like to sleep a lot, and I don't think Yoongi has a black and white view of the world, or at least that's the impression I get. So I'd gather he's one of the least judgmental among them. I also connect to his mental health struggles.

I'm like Namjoon in the sense that we both love nature, trees, and although I don't have immediate access to parks, museums, things like that, if I did I'd be on a bike roaming around or walking or going to see cultural events and all that good stuff. Alas I am not. I also think we have similar ways of thinking with regard to life. I specifically connect to his mental health struggles similar to Yoongi, although I believe Namjoon has dealt with and still deals with things more in line to what my experience is like, but with different contexts of course.

Taehyung. Sweet child. He was the member I connected to the least really just up until these past few months. But the truth is I may be more like Taehyung behavior wise than any of the others. I've caught myself lately watching him say or do things and saying to myself "Taehyung is me I am Taehyung." It's honestly scary sometimes. One time I was watching BTS play this quiz to see what member they were (which lol) and I found a lot of my answers aligning with his. I think coming from a background of farmers and from things I've seen he likes nature as well and like Namjoon he's a lover of art. He also has a habit of wearing less expensive clothes and making them look nice; I lol'd when I saw that he'd been buying inexpensive women's blouses marketed to women around 40 or so 😭 He just has a unique style and while I wouldn't say that I dress like him exactly I do sometimes gravitate to more old school styles. I also wear clothes for the opposite gender a lot.

44. If you were given the chance to say one sentence to all of them, what would you tell them?

To JIMIN: Jimin, you do have jams.

To JK: What was tasty in Busan?

To HOSEOK: What did JK text you on your last day in Malta?

OK OK time to get serious

To JK: Be confident in yourself because you are a wizard, our smart Ravenclaw, and you can accomplish anything you put your mind to; your 50% effort blows away everyone else's 100%.

To JIMIN: I think the way you sing is healing and I think you know best what works for your unique voice.

To HOSEOK: You are a son your parents can be proud of, and you should be very proud and confident in yourself because you're perfect.

To YOONGI: Please never stop writing songs about things that matter because people care and we want to hear your voice.

To SEOKJIN: "Tonight" is one of my favorite songs. You should feel happy with how you honored your pets.

To TAEHYUNG: Your grandmother would be very proud of you if she could see you.

To NAMJOON: Thank you for being the gravity holding our galaxies together.

49. What kind of concept would you like to see in the future?

Hmmm. They've done so much already. . I think it would be interesting to explore the route of Dionysus a little more, maybe a little more similar to their earlier styles with heavier rap parts, maybe an infusion of rock? I'm seeing a lot of hip hop lately that's been inspired by rock so that would be interesting. Or they could do something else and maybe infuse some EDM tracks? I know what they've done lately is more pop but I think they've only touched on EDM.

As for concepts. . I don't really know what to add?? They've done light, dark, PINK, youthful, school, soft, grrr, . . . Maybe something mature like a look more in line with MOTS: vol. 2 & 3? Those were more serious like Tear but instead they could go more toward vol. 2 and come out with like evening wear, suits (fitted), or ugh more pajama wear my god, and looks similar to what they did for SY tour Singularity and Fake Love performances? I'd love to see Hoseok in another red suit like his Final Just Dance stage . . Yes.

Hope you liked this 💜

#bts asks #bts #bangtan #ask #ask jiminielatte #personal post #personal

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your-old-enemy · 5 years

Text

Pick It Up

Note: Yes, this was inspired by the poem in ‘You’ that Beck writes as a thank you to Joe, but the story is completely different so give me a chance.

Warning: Cheating, but it might be all good in the end. Also, this is complete trash I haven’t written anything in forever and a toddler was climbing on me while I tried to write this disaster.

Tagging: @tinyarmedtrex @tozierbinch and @androovanwyngarden bc reddie

Engine, engine number nine

On the New York transit line

If your love falls on the tracks

Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up

February 14, 2016

“Eds, baby, please, you know it’s not like that!”

“This is the last time you lie to me, Richie.”

Richie was desperately trying to calm Eddie down, to have him sit down instead of walking around their apartment packing his things into a backpack. Eddie, however, was on a mission to get his shit and get the hell out of there as fast as he could - he couldn’t look at Richie right now and he definitely didn’t want to be anywhere near him. For months, Richie had lied right to his face without even showing a hint of remorse for what he was doing. He’d never really had to work late, he didn’t actually go to meetings, or dinner parties, no, he wasn’t doing any of that, instead he was dropping his pants and fucking his boss without even thinking about Eddie, the life they’d built together or the future Eddie had thought they’d planned to share with one another.

“Please, just let me explain,” Richie begged, reaching out for Eddie’s hand but it was tugged out of his hold the second he caught it and Eddie looked at him disgust, but under that Richie could see his heart breaking into a thousand tiny pieces right there on their living room floor.

“Stop begging like a dog, Richie!” Eddie spat furiously at his boyfriend, blinking the tears from his eyes as fast as he could. “Or are you going to drop to your knees for me this time?”

Richie knew that he deserved it, of course he did. He willingly slept with someone else, and not just once. He’d believed that he could get away with it until he didn’t have to do it anymore - until he got to the top - but Eddie caught him red handed. Eddie only wanted to surprise Richie at work on Valentines Day with a picnic but instead he had found him bending his boss over a desk and it made him sick.

Eddie finally had all of his things together, and he walked to the door, but as he reached for the handle, Richie’s words stopped him in his tracks.

“Please don’t leave me like this.”

Eddie didn’t say anything, he just reached into his pocket and set the little black box on the small table by the door, and then he left without looking back.

February 14, 2019

Every year since his last one with Richie, Eddie spent the romantic holiday alone, drinking himself into a deep sleep that would leave him with a pounding behind his eyes the next morning. Normally, he would do it at home, but this year his friends had decided to make it a group event and come together to celebrate the love they all had for each other. Eddie was happy to spend the time with all of his friends at once, so he’d gotten there early with Bev and Ben and they’d started drinking while they waited for the others. Stan and Mike were next to arrive, hugging the other three in greeting as their drinks were brought to the table. Eddie was watching the door every few minutes, waiting for Bill and Audra. When they walked in he smiled brightly at the two of them and waved them over to the table, but he dropped his hand and his smile when he saw who walked into the bar behind them. Richie.

He didn’t know why he hadn’t expected Richie to be there, but he’d just assumed since nobody had mentioned it to him that the Trashmouth would have other plans tonight.

Eddie turned to ask one of the others what was going on, but Stan spoke before he could ask.

“It’s been three years, Eddie. We can’t choose between the two of you anymore. We love you both.”

Eddie scoffed at Stan’s words. That was so easy for him to say when he wasn’t the one who’d had his heart broken. Eddie knew that he could run, he had to see the night through and try to save face but he absolutely refused to talk to Richie, for the first two hours he didn’t even look at him as the group ate and drank together.

Four hours in, and Eddie was so hammered he couldn’t see straight. He was good at hiding just how drunk he was, though, always able to look put together and presentable. He watched Richie dancing with Bev, badly, to a song he didn’t recognise and all he wanted to do was go home.

He found Mike and informed him that he was leaving.

“Eddie, I don’t think you should go anywhere alone.” Mike said to Eddie with a frown.

Eddie waved off Mike’s concern. “I swear, I’m good. I’ll text you when I get home safe, yeah?”

Mike looked like he wanted to argue or have one of the others back him up here, but Eddie was stubborn and the others were all busy so he relented and let him go.

——

Richie had been throwing Bev around the dance floor when he saw Eddie leave. He’d been planning to talk to him all night and now he was about to miss his chance, so he ditched Bev and ran after him but Eddie was already down the block and Richie saw his head disappearing down into the subway.

Looking both ways as he moved, Richie crosses the road and followed Eddie down onto the almost-empty subway platform. The only other person down there was a homeless man propped up against one of the big tile pillars singing a song off-tune to himself.

“Eddie!” Richie called out, watching his small, drunk ex-boyfriend swaying back and forth on the edge of the platform while fumbling with his phone. “Eddie!” He called again when he was ignored.

“Go ‘way, Richard!” Eddie called back, shaking his phone with a frown as he tried to get the keyboard to cooperate with his drunk thumbs.

“Eds, come on-“

“Don’t call me that, for fuck sake.”

“Alright, Alright, Eddie. Come on, I’m sorry. Just let me take you home, please? You’re too drunk - would you please come back from the edge before-“

Eddie tried to whirl around, ready to yell at Richie to leave him the hell alone but he lost his balance and fell backward into the tracks. He curled up in the foetal position and groaned at the dull ache pulsing in his hip.

Richie rushed to the edge and leaned over, laying on his stomach to hold his obscenely long arm out to Eddie.

“Don’t move!” He told Eddie. “Most of that shit down there will fry you alive, just reach up and take my hand!”

Eddie looked ahead into the tunnel, the light shining through from the rapidly approaching the platform.

“Train is coming..” Eddie slurred.

The homeless man behind Richie was singing even louder now, and more off key, repeating the same line over and over again.

“Pick it up!” He yelled aimlessly. “Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up!”

“Sir, could you please shut the fuck up?!” Richie yelled frantically to the stranger before looking back down at Eddie. “Eddie, come on. Take my hand. Take it. Come on, I’ll pull you up!”

“Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up, pick it up, pick it up!”

At the last second, Eddie took Richie’s hand and Richie pulled him up onto the platform, rolling away from the edge and stopped on his back with Eddie on top of him. As the train sped past, the two of them just laid there looking into one another’s eyes as the gust of wind messed up their hair and ruffled their shirts.

“Are you ok-“

Eddie cut Richie off by throwing up right in his face.

——

Richie didn’t hear directly from Eddie for the rest of the weekend, but the other Losers kept him posted to let him know that thanks to him Eddie was alright but a little shaken up from his near-death experience. Richie hasn’t slept all that much, nightmares of ‘pick it up’ and Eddie being splattered all over the tracks running through his head whenever he closed his eyes, but he carried on with work.

Today’s segment on the radio station was a short story or poem entry contest. Some people called in, others tweeted and some emailed. The best of the best were put through for Richie to air.

“Alright folks,” Richie spoke as the song playing ended. “This next one is a little poem, from Anonymous.” After a beat, he read it aloud. “Engine, engine, number nine on the New York transit line. If your love falls on the tracks, pick it up, pick it up, pick it up.”

As he hit play on the next song, his phone rang in his pocket. Pulling it out quickly, he was shocked to see Eddie’s name on the screen but he answered the call.

“Eddie?”

“I know it probably won’t win the gift-basket prize, but I hope you liked it. I call it ‘Pick it Up’” Eddie said with a nervous laugh.

“You wrote it.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement from Richie.

“I wanted to thank you for the other night.. you saved my life.”

“Anybody would have-“

“No, they wouldn’t. You followed me out there, if you hadn’t I’d be dead.”

Richie sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair, trying to calm his pounding heart.

“Are you free after work?” He eventually asked, and he heard Eddie smile through the phone.

“I get off a half hour after your show ends.”

“Coffee?”

“I’ll be there.”

Richie definitely planned to pick his love up and never let go again.

#it 2017 #reddie

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dillydedalus · 5 years

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what i read in july

THAT’S MORE LIKE IT aka i’m finally out of the (relative) reading slump for good & my bro james joyce was there

men explain things to me, rebecca solnit the original mansplaining essay is great, and still scarily relevant; the others in this collection (most on feminist issues) are also quite good; some aspects are a bit dated & problematic so be aware of that. 2.5/5

erschlagt die armen!, shumona sinha (tr. from french, not available in english) short but very impactful novella about a young french woman, originally from india, who works as an interpreter in the asylum system and becomes more & more broken by this system of inhumane bureaucracy and suffering, until she snaps and hits a migrant over the head with a wine bottle. full of alienation and misery and beautiful but disturbing language - the title translates to ‘beat the poor to death’ so like. yeah. 3.5/5

fire & blood: a history of the targaryen family I, george r r martin look, it’s a 700-page-long fake history book about a fictional ruling dynasty in a fictional world, and i’m just That Obsessed & Desperate about asoiaf (and i don’t even care about the targs That Much). anyway, now i know more about the targs than any ruling family from, you know, real history, which is like, whatever. this is pretty enjoyable if you are That Obsessed, although i will say that some bits are much better than others (there are some dry dull years even in everyone’s fav overly dramatic dragon-riding incest-loving family) and the misogyny really is. a lot. too much. way too much. BUT i did really like Good Best Queen Alysanne (her husband king joe harris is alright too i guess) and i found my new westerosi otp, cregan stark/aly blackwood, who both have Big Dick Energy off the fucking charts. 3.5/5 (+0.5 points for cregan and aly’s combined BDE)

the old drift, namwali serpell hugely ambitious sprawling postcolonial nation-building novel about zambia, told thru three generations of three families, as well as a chorus of mosquitoes (consistently the best & smartest parts). there is A LOT going on, in terms of characters, of plot points, of references to history (the zambian space programme) and literature (finally my knowledge of heart of darkness paid off) and thematically, and honestly it was a bit too much, a bit too tangled & fragmented & drifty, and in the end i probably admire this book more than i liked it, but serpell’s writing is incredibly smart and funny and full of electrical sparks 3.5/5

a severed head, iris murdoch the original love dodecahedron (not that i counted). iris murdoch is fucking WILD and i love her for it. this is a strange darkly funny little farce about some rich well-educated londoners and their bizarre & rather convoluted love lives. not as grandiosely wild as the sea the sea, but fun nevertheless. 3/5

midnight in chernobyl, adam higginbotham jumping on the hype bandwagon caused by the hbo series (very weird to call the current fascination with chernobyl a hype bandwagon but you know). interesting & well-written & accessible (tho the science is still totally beyond me) & gets you to care about the people involved. lots of human failure, lots of human greatness, set against the background of the almost eldritch threat of radioactivity (look up the elephant foot & see if you don’t get chills), and acute radiation syndrome which is THE MOST TERRIFYING THING ON EARTH . 3.5/5

normal people, sally rooney honestly this is incredibly engrossing & absorbing once you get used to how rooney completely ignores ‘show don’t tell’ (it works!), i pretty much read the whole thing in one slow workday (boss makes a dollar, i make a dime so i read books on my phone on company time, also i genuinely had nothing to do). i also think rooney is really good at precisely capturing the ~millenial experience in a way that feels very true, especially the transition from school to uni. BUT i really disliked the ending, the book never engages with the political themes it introduces (esp. class and gender) as deeply as it could and the bdsm stuff never really gets TIED UP LOL. so overall idk: 3.5/5

störfall: nachrichten eines tages, christa wolf quiet reflective undramatic little book narrated by a woman waiting to hear about the outcome of her brother’s brain surgery on the day of the catastrophe at chernobyl - throughout the day she puts down her thoughts about her brother and the events unfolding at chernobyl, as well as the double uncertainty she is trying to cope with. really interesting to read such an immediate reaction to chernobyl (the book came out less than a year after chernobyl). 2.5/5

the man in the high castle, philip k dick it was fine? quick & entertaining alternative history where the axis powers win the war, some interesting bits of worldbuilding (like the draining of the mediterranean which was apparently a real idea in the early 20th century?) but overall it’s just felt a bit disjointed & unsatisfying to me. 2.5/5

fugitive pieces, anne michaels very poetic & thoughtful novel about the holocaust, grief, remembrance & the difference between history and memory, intergenerational trauma, love, geology and the weather. i’m not sure how much this comes together as a novel, but it is absolutely beautifully written (the author is a poet as well) and very affective. 3.5/5

american innovations, rivka galchen short collection of bizarre & often funny short stories about neurotic women whose furniture flies away, or who grow an extra breast, or who are maybe too occupied with financial details. very vague & very precise at once, which seems to be the thing with these sort of collections. 3/5

fool’s assassin (fitz & the fool #1), robin hobb YAASS i’m back in the realm of the elderlings!!! i thought this was one of the weaker installments in the series - i still enjoyed it a lot, and Feelings were had, but it just doesn’t quite fit together pacing-wise & some of the characterisation struck me as off (can i get some nuance for shun & lant please?) and tbh fitz is at peak Selfcentred Dumbass Levels & it drove me up the fucking wall. molly, nettle & bee deserve better. still, completely HYPE for the rest of the trilogy. 3.5/5

JAMES JOYCE JULY

note: i decided not to read dubliners bc it’s my least fav of joyce’s major works & too bleak & repetitive for my mood right now AND while i planned not to reread finnegans wake bc……. it’s finnegans wake…. i kinda do want to read it now (but i also. really don’t.) so idk yet.

a portrait of the artist as a young man, james joyce y’all. i read this book at least once a year between the ages of 15 and 19, it’s beyond formative, it is burnt into my brain, and reading it now several years later it is still everything, soaring and searing (that searing clarity of truth, thanks burgess) and poetic and dirty, and stephen is baby, and a pretentious self-important little prick and i love him & i am him (or was him as only a pretentious self-important teenage girl reading joyce can be him - because this truly is a book that should be read in your late teens when you feel everything as intensely and world-endingly and severely as my boy stephen does and every new experience feels like the world changing). anyway i love this book & i love stephen dedalus, bird-like, hawk-like, knife-blade, aloof, alienated, severe and stern, a poet-priest-prophet if he could ever get over himself, baby baby baby. 5/5

exiles, james joyce well. there’s a reason joyce is known as a novelist. this is….. a failed experiment, maybe. a fairly boring play about an adulterous love-square and uh… love beyond morality and possession maybe??? about how much it would suck for joyce to return to ireland??? and tbh it’s not terribly interesting. 2/5

travesties, tom stoppard a wild funny irreverent & smart antic comedy inspired by the fact that during ww1, james joyce, lenin, and dadaist tristan tzara were all in neutral zurich, more or less simultaneously; they probably never met, but in this play they do, as dadaist poetry, socialist art critique, and a james joyce high on his own genius & in desperate need of some cash while writing ulysses, AND the importance of being earnest (joyce is putting on a production of it) all collide in the memories of henry carr, who played algernon & later sued joyce over money (tru facts). not my fav stoppard (that’s arcadia) but it’s funny & fizzy & smart & combines many many things that i love. 4/5

ulysses, james joyce look i’m not really going to tell y’all anything new about ulysses, but it really has everything, it’s warm & human(e) & cerebral & difficult & funny & sad & healing & i always get a lot out of it even tho there’s bits (a lot of them) i’ll never wrap my head around. ultimate affirmation of humanity or whatever. also stephen dedalus is baby. 5/5

dedalus, chris mccabe the fact that this book (sequel to ulysses about what stephen dedalus might have done the next day) exists and was published ON MY BIRTHDAY is proof that the universe loves me.

anyway this is very very good, very very clever, extremely good at stephen (less good at bloom but his parts are still good), engages w/ ulysses, portrait & hamlet (& others) very cleverly & does some cool meta and experimental shit. y’all it has stephen talking to a contemporary therapist about how he’s stuck in joyce’s text which is all about joyce & very little about whoever stephen is when he’s not joyce’s alter ego/affectionate but slightly amused look at younger self and ithaca is an interview w/ the author about how his relationship to his dad influenced his response to ulysses and I’M INTO IT. the oxen of the sun chapter replaces the whole ‘gestation of english prose’ w/ just slightly rewriting the first pages of about 10 novels published between ulysses and now & it does lolita w/ “bloom, thorn of stephen’s sleep, light in his eyes. his sire, his son’ and i lit. screamed. anyway i don’t want to give this 5 stars (yet) bc i think some of the experimental stuff ended up a bit gimmicky & didn’t add that much to the text but fuck. that’s my boy & i want to reread it right now. 4.5/5 ALSO it’s a crime no literary weirdo woman has written ‘a portrait of the artist’s sister’ about delia ‘dilly’ dedalus, shadow of stephen’s mind, quick far & daring, teaching herself french from a 3rd hand primer while her father drinks the nonexistent family fortune away and her older brother is getting drunk on a beach & starting fights w/ soldiers bc he’s a smartarse

#the books i read #long post

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