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elliee-doodles · 2 years

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(some) Loser club HCs

(this was something I started when I was really into IT, but never finished. But I had worked hard on these at the time and I figured why not post them? I only got to 5/7 losers (the last two theres really barely anything- I was writting them down over time, thought dumping basically.

Do keep in mind though, these are pretty old- and I'm not really in the fandom anymore)

Trigger warnings: All of the Losers have trauma, mentions of canon and non canon abuse, mentions of selfharm and suicide (nothing graphic), brief mention of an ED

continue at your own risk

Note: First of all, please keep in mind I only read half the book. So most of what I know is from the (new) movies and the fandom. Most if not all of these are kid/teen losers. Also a lot of this is based around my personal views of the characters, which is why I'm so anxious to post. I may read into the characters totally different than everyone else, but hopefully you'll like some of these. Any of the interactions between Losers can be seen as platonic or romantic as I ship Poly Losers. Whatever you prefer.

Bill-

-Like I said all the Losers have trauma, from pennywise and bullying/abuse, so they all have some form of PTSD. I won't repeat that for every Loser

-Bill also has mild anxiety, even before the whole Georgie situation, and depression

-His stutter makes it hard for him to make any connection with most people in Derry, even adults. They are either impatient or write him off as stupid.

-He is often non verbal when not around the losers

-After the whole Georgie situation his parents neglect him.

-He ends up very skinny because while there is food in the house, it's barely anything. A couple cans of soup, oatmeal, a box of crackers. Maybe some other things but not much.

-He steals his dad’s old clothes. They are too big on him but it's one of the only ways he gets new clothes.

-The other is getting clothes from the Losers or eventually when he gets a job, buying them from cheap places.

-That's also why he wears jorts, he has to cut his own jeans for shorts

-Ok so you know that old lady in the first movie that has the cat and is the last person to see Georgie alive? Yeah Bill goes to visit her

-At first it was to try and get more answers

-But when she has none he gets upset and she invites him in for tea or something

-And then he starts to visit her more- as he is always welcome.

-Eventually he ends up watering her plants or taking care of her cat for a little money. These are things the woman could definitely do on her own, but she know how Bill’s parents are and knows he won't take money without “earning” it

-After a while Bill meets Mike, He ends up helping on his farm.

-He doesn't come around nearly as often, but every so often he’ll surprise her with a visit. Sometimes he’ll even bring Mike.

-Yes I created this whole ass story for a character who doesn't have a name and has like a minute of screen time.. Anyway-

-Bill’s favorite thing to do on the farm is feed the animals. More specifically the chickens.

-He had an incident where he was going to feed the pigs, holding their giant thing of food, when he tripped into the pen. (you know he clumsy)

-He opened his eyes to a bunch of pig snouts that were way too close. He doesn't feed the pigs anymore. Boy is traumatized

-There is one cow that is way sweeter than the others, and so gentle. This cow is Bill’s favorite. He calls him Mike when Mike isn't around. Bill doesn't know that Mike knows

-Bill hates rain

-Drizzles aren't so bad but the harder it rains the worse it is

-Sometimes the Losers come over to comfort him, sometimes he’ll push them away feeling he doesn't deserve it

-He goes bird watching with Stan but ends up falling asleep. Every. Single. Time.

-Stan can't really get mad, everyone knows Bill needs any sleep he can get

-And yeah he has terrible eye bags

-Oh and yes. Every Loser simps for Bill

-When Bill finishes a story he goes to Ben first for spelling or grammar errors or anything that improves the writing that he didnt think of

-Then he goes to mike to read the story and give feedback

-And lastly he’ll go to the other losers to see if the story is actually interesting (because as much as he loves Ben and Mike, they are book nerds and he wants the opinions of people who don't read everyday)

Richie-

-Depressed. Hides behind jokes.

-Often doesn't think about what he says, which is why he made the mistake of making a joke about Eddie's mom. He only did it once and still regrets it.

-Like for real sometimes he’ll close his eyes and just see Eddie’s face after he made the joke and,, yeah

-His parents are also neglectful. (yes yes I know I'm sorry but I'm projecting here) His dad never wanted kids and his mom wanted a girl. Neither got what they wanted

-He learned to pick the machines at the arcade so he always has change on him.

-Tries to get Stan to wear more than simple button ups. He got Stan in one of his shirts ONE time. Stan still hates him for it

-Steals pieces of everyone's food. The losers kind of just let him because one, he won't stop even if they tell him to and two, they know that the boy needs to eat

-He and Bev sneak out often at night. Sometimes they'll do something crazy and illegal and sometimes they’ll just lay on the grass and talk

-Sometimes he and Bev will look for bones in the woods. They have two bird skeletons, one single bird skull, and half a squirrel skeleton so far

-I'd say in modern day he definitely does theatre. He acts

-The rest of the losers do crew

-Until richie can get eddie to try out for a role (that he gets and totally nails)

-I could write a whole separate thing for them doing theatre honestly... Anyways

-Richie is always trying to do impressions of the losers. Eventually he gets it and the Losers have to refrain from murdering him

-Ok this boy is kinda suicidal

-He had self harmed once but Eddie and Stan put a stop to that real quick

-He has abandonment issues and sometimes he can't convince himself that the losers are NOT gonna leave him

-Sometimes when he is alone he dessociates

-I love the hc that when the losers outgrow the clubhouse they move into the attic of Mike’s barn, so a lot of the times the losers are on the farm

-Richie loves the pigs and cows

-One morning Mike went out after a sleepover and found Richie talking and telling jokes to the cows. He didn't say anything.

-Believe it or not, Richie can't be and isn't high energy all the time. Sometimes when he just needs to chill or everything is too much he’ll walk in the woods or, more often than not, go bird watching with Stan

-Although those bird watching sessions never last more than an hour unless Richie falls asleep.

-Sometimes Richie doesn't realize when he is being an asshole, but a lot of the time he does it on purpose because he thinks it's funny.

-Sometimes it is, but Richie doesn't always know how to read the mood

-He hates when someone calls him by his full name. Even if they sound playful

-Oh you know my boy feeds the rats, mice and racoons. He feels connected to them

-Should probably cut his hair. Eddie keeps telling him to cut his damn hair

-Gets ben and Bev into graphic novels

-Eddie and Stan read them too, but only with Richie

-Oh please let this loser play ukulele

-Let him write songs for the other Losers that they never get to hear

-Except maybe when he writes songs with bev, who plays keyboard, late at night

-They're not very good but don't tell them that

-I know a lot of people love punk Richie and I do too but,,, I also love pastel and/or soft Rich

-Maybe he alternates, or he's like me and can't settle on just one

Stan-

Oh boy

Ok if you know me at all you know I project heavily onto this boy, so a lot of these are based around my life :,)

-Ok first of all anxiety. He’s full of it

-And he also has depression and is suicidal even as a kid

-And has OCD

-His dad wants him to be this perfect little jewish boy, no flaws.

-His mom doesn't fight his dad but she isn't like him

-He feels like he doesnt fit in anywhere, not even with the losers sometimes.

-Sometimes he’ll go days without eating. The reason for this depends but is usually because of the sense of control it brings

-Let him and Bev have a friendship you COWARDS

-If things go wrong, or everything is too much he has panic attacks which usually leads to him self harming

Ok on to something more light

-The losers (minus Eddie)bring Stan bird feathers they find randomly so he can tell them what kind of bird it came from

-Eddie doesn't like this because, “do you rEALIZE HOW MANY DISEASES-”

-He and Mike and sometimes Bev go on walks through the barrens. Stan to watch birds, Mike to enjoy nature and Bev to explore

-Yes he has assigned types of birds to the different Losers. He doesn't tell them though

-He likes to sit with Ben because he can be quiet for a long time and he just genuinely likes his company

-He and Eddie play baseball. Sometimes Bill joins

-He also helps Mike on the farm and, of course, loves the chickens

-Its really cute because the chickens get excited when they see him and Bill is lowkey jealous

-His favorite song is The king of rock ‘N’ roll and you can pry that from my cold dead hands

-Richie is so pleasantly surprised when he finds out

-One year for his birthday Richie gives Stan a button up shirt with a pattern of birds on it and he both loves and hates it.

-Will stay locked up in the house for far too long. The Losers make sure to visit if they haven't seen him.

-Although sometimes he shuts them and everyone else out. He won't answer the door. He keeps his blinds shut. Sometimes it's because he just needs that time or sometimes it's because of his depression. Either way the Losers worry.

-Ok but you know this boy has a pet bird. Maybe not when he lives with his parents but most certainly sometime in his life. I like to think he has a small bird, not one of those big boys like a macaw, but maybe a lovebird.

-Does Not like a lot of noise. He has sensory overloads

-Stims but is embarrassed by it

-Has that head bob stim

-Can't stand when his different food touches on his plate

-Richie bought him one of those plates that have dividers as a joke but stan actually uses it all the time

-Every once and a while he loves to just listen to one of the Losers ramble about things they love.

-He most definitely helps any bird he sees that is in even the tiniest bit of trouble

-He, Richie and eventually Eddie paint their nails together. I mean the whole group will at sleepovers and stuff but those three do it most often

-He plays piano. Not by choice but he does kinda enjoy it

-He sits as still as he can in the park where he bird watches, and ends up earning the trust of a few of the birds. They eat from his hand

-Photographs birds!! Has a polaroid (sometimes he photographs the losers too)

-Scrapbooks ! often ends up doing it with another loser

-Makes a scrapbook of the losers, each of them added their own things and comments in different color pens

-Collects stamps with birds and nature on them

-When the Losers go to the quarry Richie always throws his clothes off and onto the ground randomly and Stan always picks them up after him and folds them neatly. He has given up on yelling at Richie for this. Instead he just sighs and does his thing.

-The other losers respect his wish not to just throw their clothes everywhere

-Organizes the others’ stuff when he comes over

-Has had a couple suicide attempts, The losers take turns visiting him in the hospital, He hates them seeing him like that (do i want to write a comfort fic about this?,,perhaps)

-Has Misphobis (when certain sounds trigger someone in ways other may not understand, like chewing)

-Starts a tradition where the losers will write letters to each other (even though they all live close together)

Eddie-

-Does Not actually have asthma, just really bad anxiety, panic attacks and ADHD

-Was the one who helped Bill fix and paint silver when he first got it. They were both around ten

-The first time bill rides down the street without silver breaking or anything going wrong Eddie cries

-Both because he's so happy it finally worked and because “oh god Bill is gonna kill himself on that thing and i helped him fix it oh god-”

-But that aside Eddie likes fixing the other losers bikes too. They come to him first when something is wrong.

-Eddie really loves to go on carnival rides, it's getting him on the ride thats the hard part

-One time the losers went on a trip and Richie would not stop talking about this rollercoaster. He was so excited

-Then they got there and everyone got on, but Eddie was stopped. Turns out he was too short. So Richie stays with him while the others go. They get food <3

-Eddie would honestly do anything for any of the losers let's be honest

-He steals their clothes. All.The. Time.

-Richie sees Eddie taking Stan’s clothes one day and asks if he could do the same to which Stan says,“fuck no”

-He's always leaning on one of the losers or touching them in some way. Like they be chilling at the quarry after a swim and he full on curls up in Mikes lap

-,,praise kink. Just saying

-When he was younger he wasn't allowed in Stan’s house (and Stan wasnt allowed in his) because Stan is jewish

-Leans on Bev and watches as she sews

Bev-

-Hates when anyone touches her outside of the losers

-Even sometimes the losers touching her is too much, they always ask before they do

-No one is allowed to touch her hair

-She keeps it short and panics when it grows long again, only after she gets over her trauma does she let it grow out

-Don't call her Bevvie for the love of god

-Has a hard time actually being in love. Crushes are a bit different

Smells like strawberries and smoke

-Steals all the losers clothes all the time (wears them better too)

-After meeting Mike she becomes vegetarian :)

and there you have it- I didnt edit this, so some of these could be completely stupid I have no idea. I just said I long while ago I’d post them and why not? otherwise theyre just sitting in my google drive abandoned

hope you got some joy out of them heh

#i forgot how to tag its been a minute #It #it chapter 1 #it chapter one #the losers club #the losers club hcs #bill denbrough #richie tozier #stanley uris #stanly uris my beloved #ha didnt forget that one #eddie kaspbrak #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #mike hanlon #pennywise #it chapter two

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veterinaryshitposting · 4 years

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#veterinary shitposting #veterinary #medicine #vetmed #vetblr #dammit #it's also making it a lot harder to steal everyone else's pens

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theimprobabledreamersworld · 3 years

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Day 2 of Loceit Week!

I enjoyed writing this one, based on the prompt ‘Aftermath’ :) It can be seen as platonic or romantic, I’ll leave that up to you :) And yeah, there are quite a few Doctor Who references in this one... I like Doctor Who! <3

Hope you like it!

@loceitweek2021

Writing Taglist: @psychedelicships @jwillowwolf @red-imeanblue @lost-in-thought-20 @the-duke-of-nuts @writerwithtoomanyships

Read on Ao3!

‘The Aftermath’

Logan and Janus. Warning for mentions of arguments, overwhelmed emotions and upset moments.

Word Count: 1,565

Janus sighed as he heard a soft tap on his closed room door. If he opened the door to find Remus there eating spaghetti through a straw for the third time this week alone, he felt like he was going to scream. He… loved Remus platonically, he truly did, but there’s only so much of his crazy behaviour he could handle in a short space of time.

He put down his book and apprehensively shuffled opened the door. Uncharacteristically, he was surprised to see Patton standing there, he was staring at the floor and his eyes bore a sadness that Janus had never seen on his face before. I mean, come on. The guy was the literal embodiment of sunshine and lollipops. It was sickening sometimes, but seeing him so drastically sad, that was even more unbearable.

“Patton?” He tried to get him to raise his head, but he refused to look up from the floor. Normally, he wouldn’t have cared, but this shows that something serious has happened.

“You need to go to Logan… w- we had a fight! I said some things I regret; and he won’t talk to any of us. I- I know it’s a lot to ask, but you’re my only hope. I- I need to know that he’s okay.” Janus just stared as the tears cascaded down Patton’s face, and his heart pounded as he thought about the notion of Logan sitting in his room alone. Knowing Logan, he probably wasn’t doing okay and despite the cold persona he puts on, he wanted- no, needed, to go help Logan. He cared about him too much to let him go through this alone.

“I’ll take care of him. It’s going to be alright, Patton.” He put a hand lightly on Patton’s shoulder before walking briskly to Logan’s closed door.

Janus took a deep breath and tapped three times on the blue door with one Doctor Who quote in the middle of it written aggressively in pen. ‘Good men don’t need rules. Today is not the day to find out why I have so many.’ He wasn’t okay. Janus just hoped he’d be able to do something to help.

“Will you all just go away?!” Logan shouted at his closed room door. Janus couldn’t help but step back. The anger was powerful; and Logan’s voice was shaking ferociously. It was clear that his emotions were overwhelming him. Janus knew he needed to get to him as soon as possible, he couldn’t stand hearing him so hurt.

“Sorry, darling. I’m afraid you won’t be able to get rid of me that easily.” He spoke softly, hoping that Logan would hear that he was being genuine under the snarky tone. He could practically feel the hesitation from this side of the door.

“Please, Logan. As much I love the fact that I haven’t upset you for once, I can’t stand hearing you so hurt. Let me help.” He tried to keep the sarcasm in his tone, but his voice began to break towards the end; and he heard Logan sigh. He could also hear sniffles as the door opened a miniscule amount before footsteps shuffled back to the bed again. Janus pushed the door open and slowly made his way to Logan. He smiled gently as he sat on the corner of Logan’s bed and Logan raised his head up slowly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Logan shook his head vigorously and Janus nodded, letting him know that it was okay. He saw Logan’s hands shaking so he shuffled closer and held out his hands in between the two of them. Logan looked puzzled, before putting his hands on top of Janus’. Immediately, he could feel that he was starting to calm down, the anger was slowly dissipating. He just held Logan’s hands and rubbed his thumbs across the back of them, with anyone else, this would have been an uncomfortable silence, but that was never the case between the two of them, no matter what they were doing.

“I’m here, Logan. I promise. I will stay here for as long as you want me to be.” He smiled sincerely and was overcome with surprise when Logan moved his hands away and launched himself at Janus into an unexpected hug. As he buried his head into Janus’ neck, he held him a tight as he could. He rubbed his hands up and down his back while Logan sighed, almost debating whether he should talk or not. Janus didn’t mind though, he was starting to feel okay and that was the most important thing.

“I’m sorry… I’ve never been this consumed by emotions before. I always try to distance myself from them, they distract me. When I let things get to me, it makes me… weak.” Janus gripped onto Logan harder, he just needed to hold him, so he knows that everything is okay. He also wanted to say something, something that would get through to Logan so he knows that emotions aren’t a bad thing. They’re absolutely not a weakness. A lightbulb moment erupted in his mind as he remembered the quote on Logan’s door, he knew what to say.

“Letting it get to you. You know what that’s called? Being alive. Best thing there is. Being alive right now is what counts.” Logan pulled himself out of the hug and looked at Janus with a surprised look on his face.

“Doctor Who reference? Fantastic.” He laughed and Janus smiled back when he saw how relaxed Logan had become, that made him feel a lot better as well, even if that was a selfish thought… He didn’t care at this point.

“Yeah… I totally didn’t steal your Season 6 boxset last month… I wanted to watch Doctor Who so I had something to talk to you about.” He looked at the floor and a small blush spread across his face at the admission he just made, and Logan just beamed even more.

“I wondered where that went… But I don’t mind. It’s nice that someone else wanted to watch it to talk about it with me… It’s nice not being called a joke for once too.” Janus felt a small flicker of anger when he heard the hurt in Logan’s voice. He faced Logan and gently lifted his head with two fingers so he was looking into his eyes.

“Now normally, I would give some kind of sarcastic quip as a response, but even I know that this isn’t the time for that. Logan. You are not a joke. You are smart, logical, talented, you keep the order. You stop everyone from doing things they will regret later on. You have saved the day on so many occasions, it would make anyone’s head spin. Sure, mistakes have been made from time to time, but everyone does. No one can be perfect… but you, Logan… You’re the closest thing to perfect I have ever known.” They both smiled gently at each other and Logan buried his head in Janus’ chest once again. They stayed that way for a few minutes before Janus leant back to ask Logan a question.

“How about I go and get that boxset from my room? We could watch it for a little bit? If you want me to stay with you that is.” He stood up while Logan nodded excitedly, and as Janus saw the sparkle return to Logan’s eyes, he knew everything would be okay.

“Could you… could you quickly give a message to Patton? Just tell him that I’m okay, and I’ll talk to him tomorrow.” Janus nodded and ran up to his room so he could get back to Logan as soon as possible. He scribbled a note to Patton as he found the DVDs and on his way back, he pushed the paper under the lighter blue door. He saw it being taken and could hear Patton sigh in relief. His work was done. He opened Logan’s door and he was taken back by everything he had done in the space of five minutes.

“Well, you have been busy…” He looked around and saw a galaxy projection on the ceiling, string lights around the bed which turned it into a T.A.R.D.I.S-like fort. It was amazing. Logan patted the bed and Janus put the DVD into the TV before lying down next to him. As the first episode began, Janus smiled as he saw Logan miming all of the words. As he gradually began to move even closer to Janus, he lifted his arm up and scooped Logan close. This felt nice, and both of them knew that this is exactly what Logan needed… and deep down, it’s what Janus needed too.

They moved through season after season, laughing and crying together at everything that was going on. By halfway though Season Eight, Janus could see that Logan was starting to get tired as he desperately tried to keep his eyes open. He put his hands though Logan’s hair and softly stroked it, reassuring Logan it was okay to fall asleep if he wanted to, he was safe. In the silence, one part of the episode rang out in the room…

‘Love is not an emotion. It’s a promise.’

As Janus looked down at the now sleeping Logan, he knew what he felt and that he would be keeping a promise to Logan. Always.

#loceitweek2021 #ts janus #ts logan #loceit #platonic loceit #or romantic if you'd like to interpret it as such #ts fanfic #sanders sides fanfiction #fluff #hurt and comfort #doctor who references #tw argument mention #tw overwhelmed emotions #this was fun to write #:)

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ricaffeine · 4 years

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𝐇𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐨𝐨𝐧 𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 | 𝐎𝐧𝐞

an: i'm sad because of hyunji drought and this is helping me cope :( but fr if tvn decides to make hotel blue moon then yeaji needs to be in it!!

also very annoying, i can't reply to comments bc this is a side blog (bruh wtf tumblr, i'm so sad should i make a new one?) reblog if you feel like it and my asks are open if you wanna chat 🖤✨

CHAPTER TWO

Weekdays at Seoul's National art gallery were usually the same. Buzzing curators dealing with hot-tempered clients. One thing or another was typically going not right and art directors cried about their wrong coffee order.

Although today was not the usual as to the crowds of bubbly news reporters and dazzled art critiques swarming up the wide place. As to Munyeong on the other hand, she was not pleased to the slightest.

"Just smile at the cameras, don't forget about the paycheck you're getting today." Sangin repeated himself for the fifth time. "Don't cause a scene, just think about the money."

Ah right. The paycheck.

As to The Nightmare Garden was bid off for over ten-million dollars, all of today's fanciness was dedicated to her, nation's celebrated female illustrator. However in all honesty, Munyeong barely liked her so-called masterpiece, but considering the amount of cash it will make her, she could be appreciative for the sake of it.

Behind her oversized sunglasses, Munyeong glared at her pesky manager– if looks could kill, he'd already be eleven feet under his grave. Sangin shut his mouth.

"Let's just get this over with," she simply responded, hooking off her eyewear then strutted into the hall with her long legs. Eyes whipped at her and cameras started to flash intensely, almost blinding her and Munyeong wondered how much those little pests could afford her if they got her blind.

And so the event played on. More pictures were taken– as if they hadn't blind her enough cheerful compliments flowed along with the spring breeze. The insincere joker smile she mastered whilst she met her million-dollar client– according to Sangin a hotel owner, though the woman did not have the looks for it– and the glass of filthy wine she almost had a chance to taste if Sangin's sixth sense was not so creepily fast.

Another dreadful two hours later as the dusk had set, hitting the edges with its golden flare, everyone had left. They got their articles and Munyeong will certainly be getting her pools of cash.

To her displease Sangin had informed her to wait as he had to take care of some paperworks she doubted he went to bribe the press into censoring her quoted inappropriate words.

Nevertheless it was not her bother. She gave his plead a second before storming off to the complimentary section of the building.

Luck on her side, for nobody was there and she was able to grab one of the wine bottles with her– as for a fact it definitely was not stealing.

"Don't be shy, I know you want it."

Munyeong stopped within her steps as soon as an obnoxiously familiar voice echoed from the gallery she previously was in. Curiosity taking the lead, she peaked through the corner and had to muffle her own snort. Stood there, nation's art historian with the sharpest tongue– Choi Seojin.

She finds it hard to believe that his articles are highly known around, or even relevant, when his mouth is full of complete shit. However not disregarding the nastiest tea yet– a frightened girl seized under him. Her hands were locked, frightened eyes grew larger as the man spewed out nasty things.

Instantly, she took out her phone to film the disgraceful scene. Munyeong grinned to herself, reminiscing the rage she felt last time when he mentioned about her mother, and how her irritating manager had interrupted her before she could've sent him down the stairs to Satan.

The man reared into the poor girl's cheek when she attempted to fight him off, and Munyeong's smile dropped.

That piece of shit.

Munyeong entered the room, arms crossed, head high. Her wedge heels clicked against the hardwood as she let out an unamused wow.

Mad dog– what she personally thinks he should be called– 's head whipped at her with wide eyes. Like a child getting caught of lying.

"Oh my. Your hobbies are quite interesting Mr. Choi. Talking shit and sexual harassment?" Munyeong spat. "The girl looks like she'd rather kill herself, why are you even trying?"

As if he thought he could get away with what he just did, mad dog released his foul grip on the girl. Munyeong clicked her tongue and tauntingly held out her phone.

"Oh no, don't bother pretending. Judging by the looks, that won't even favor you at this point." She spared a glance at the quivering girl. "Why are you waiting? Go."

Shakingly and with thankful eyes she nodded and left, her footsteps filling void of silence before it coated the air again.

Mad dog snickered, as if there was something to laugh about. "Don't mess with me Ms. Ko. You know me, I won't die alone."

"Certainly I'll drag you and Mr. Lee down with me. Why do you think they call me the suicide bomb?"

Munyeong walked towards him and spreaded a smile, though even dogs could tell you shouldn't push her further. "You mean the bastard you can't fall down without dragging everyone else with him? Why?"

"I can destroy your career with the tip of my pen, I'm sure you know." He gave her a look, panning out his hand. "Now if you hand me your phone, I think we can compromise something."

Munyeong unraveled her arms, eyes hardening at his next sentence. "You think so?"

"Nation's beloved artist turned out to have antisocial personality disorder. What do you think will happen when people find out?" Mad dog sneered. "Her mother who mysteriously commited suicide–"

"Shut up." She warned. His words lit up the flame from their last encounter, adding fuel to her burning fire. Her head pounded, hard. For a moment she had hoped that if he proceeded as she said, then things would not have to get ugly.

"And her father? Spending his last days in the psychiatric hospital."

But men never listen, do they?

Munyeong tightened the hand around her bottle and striked it at him with full force. The bottom part crashed the wall behind him– just above the hung painting- glass shattered as rich burgundy stained its way down, smearing all over. Its taste fused with the air and Munyeong glowered at the creature who dodged her flawless aim.

"You crazy bitch!" He yelled, scrambled on the floor. But Mad dog was quick to lunge at her, they both hit the ground, stumbling as her open purse had been knocked away– and Munyeong's eyes landed on something very specific.

She was quicker, getting on her feet and spared the bastard a strong kick in the groin, leaving him groaning as she reached for her pen.

Her favorite calligraphy pen– its lining was stunning, coated in shiny teal with hints of gold, but most importantly, the dangerously sharp tip. The way it writes like reaping out blood from your hand– hence why it is a favorite.

She hawled back over and he screamed at her, though she didn't hear him. Her head was light as she felt blood rushed through her veins. Munyeong raised her arm and struck it back down.

Die.

Both of them froze. No, not her and mad dog, but him.

Deafening silence had lied between the walls and there they stood, eyes pierced into another's souls. Hers burned like fire, but his were dignified like the deep ocean.

Droplets of blood trickled down his forearm and splattered the floor, staining the rolled up sleeves of his crisp white shirt. What a waste.

"Let go. You can't kill him." The man– still with a bloody pen graved in his palm said.

Munyeong couldn't help but scoff, especially after that fucking bastard had just strangled her. "Don't be dramatic. I was just going to give him a few scratches."

Well maybe that's not entirely true.

Rough scrambling erupted underneath them, but when Munyeong turned to look, the mad dog had just ran off, like a lost puppy. Angrily she bit her lip, close to drawing blood until she felt the man draw his own hand back.

She watched as he did. The way he carefully slid her pen into his jacket and brought out a black silk handkerchief. Very rarely, she'd be astonished by something, and now it's him. Though she found it quite difficult to understand him– since when do you interrupt another's stabbing session by screwing up your own hand instead, and also the audacity to tell her she could not stab somebody?

So lost in her thoughts it took her a few seconds to realize her pulse was not pounding anymore.

"Did anyone not tell you that it is basic etiquette to not pry into someone else's business?" Munyeong said– seized the napkin from him, and began to tie a knot. She shot him a glance.

No reply. The man simply stared at her.

"Hmm?" She raised a brow, amused at his slight flinch when she tugged a little harder.

"Don't stress it too much, my manager will take care of our little incident." Munyeong chuckled as he proceeded to ignore her. "Do you know what? There are a lot of people in this world who deserve to die. And some very thoughtful freaks secretly take care of that, so clueless humans can sleep peacefully at night, completely unaware. Which one do you think I am?"

She dropped his hand, anticipating for his answer. Flares of light shined through the blinds, sharpening at his strong features and she noted his small– yet devilish smile.

"A clueless freak."

He finally responded, leaning towards her. His eyes traced her face, gazing down at her lips for a second too long, before their eyes were locked once again. "And of course you will have to pay, but at what price?"

taglist -> i could not tag some of ya'll :( @anotherdush @callmeashipper @ourcoffeeaddictme @nothingcreativeyet @pancat @hotstuff-benswolo @lookingatthesunset @evielovesfood @waywarm @gloster @hello-79 @ailander

#it's okay to not be okay #psycho but it's okay #iotnbo #pbio fic #kdrama #kim soo hyun #seo yea ji #ko mun yeong #ko moon young #moon kang tae #hotel blue moon #hotel moon light

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tabzanite · 3 years

Text

Trials Of Wilbur Soot

The trials of a man known as Wilbur Soot, going through his thoughts on everything that happened in L'manburg, to Pogtopia, to the ends of it all- even to new beginnings.

_____________

Pretty much what I think c!Wilbur's vague thoughts on everything starting from L'manburg would be. As always, talking about the character, this is all /rp.

Ao3 Link- https://archiveofourown.org/works/31174949%22%3E

Trial for what, you may ask? Well we can't be sure.

Wilbur can't say it was all a test. So much of it felt so light hearted. Watching Tommy grow and slowly get better was a pleasure. Watching Tubbo be able to get more and more people to see what he actually was, that was magnificent.

He’d have to say it all started when L’manburg came to be. It was dumb, it was stupid he had to admit, but getting under peoples skins, proving a point- that made it so worth it. He had his brothers in his eyes and his son, what could come of this?

Betrayal. Betrayal could. This is what he considered his first benchmark. Eret leading them into that damp, cold, yet so clearly calculated room. As always, Tommy not listening to his ruling, going on and saying what was on his mind. Suffering the consequence from it, losing his discs. Losing to a green man. A bit funny if he was being honest.

It was unfair to blame it all on Tommy, as much of a moron he was, Wilbur failed his role as well.

Screaming into his pillow until sunrise, thinking about ways to keep up his facade until dawn. Wilbur knew what they all thought of him. What they all expected from him. He knew he shouldn't realistically be on that high horse, they didn't see him as a messiah or anything but- they saw him as their leader. He couldn't complain either. In the end, it was his decision to do it anyway.

There was a question that stuck in his mind after this, “Is that moment what made the average he consistently held? Was that his first failure in the trials?” There was no true way to answer.

There wasn't any need for an answer in his eyes at the time anyway, he wasn't aware he was being tested. L’manburg only grew to more people after this- Niki, Jack. More people brought more ideals, more expectations. More people to be, more people to have to please.

Next was his first definite mistake, a thirst for power, a thirst to prove. The trial kept getting harder.

Wilbur wanted to start an election. Not any election, an election specifically to prove his power. It was wrong, he knew it was wrong, but it would've worked. It should've worked. The people would have no one else to vote for, what else could have happened? It was a steal to Pog 2020!

Quackity.

In his eyes, it was fair to blame all of what happened after this on Quackity, not that he solely did. He was a definite cause in all of this. Swag 2020 they called it. Him, and the person he somehow convinced to work with him, Georgenotfound. Really though how the hell’d he get Georgenotfound?

Then came Coconut 2020, his son. His own son and one of his closest friends. He shouldn't be mad, he shouldn't be upset- it's not like they'd win anyway- it was an election . He had to let people run, it was an election . He just didn't expect it to be them of all people. It hurt, it really did. No matter what, it was just his adorable son and one of his good friends. They wouldn't win. It was a good ambition to see.

None of that mattered- he had his right hand men! He had his right hand men, Tommy and Tubbo. He knew what they saw him as, they would listen to him. Tommy's Always stuck around, Tubbo was always behind him, nothing could change that. Yes men. They were yes men- as he thought- they'd stick around if they were strong enough.

Tommy and Tubbo were a good bunch. They were great. They were also naive, gullible. Tubbo kept Tommy rooted, Tommy kept Tubbo in front of people, Wilbur kept them both at their goals. Well his goals, but they didn't know that. Tommy and Tubbo were great kids, but by prime, were they gullible.

In their defense, Wilbur was the first one to give them the time of day. To genuinely care, at least for a bit. Be a brother . To be family. He couldn't blame them. He couldn't say he felt guilty either.

He would always have his father, too. He would always have him through pen and through paper and would always have him in heart. He constantly wondered if he would be disappointed in him for some of his more- well, morally wrong thoughts.

He thinks of this as the second part of the trial. It was a long one, it was a hard one. He couldn't even tell you if it was a legal trial or a test, he chose which one of those he thought of it as depending on the time of day. Not that he knew what time of day it was.

Then came Jschlatt. Georgenotfound, keeping true to the name, the brand- Wilbur does have to respect the commitment a bit- not showing up. Sleeping through some of the debates. The first debate went smoothly, he got an outlook on Quackity’s beliefs- Quackity was oh so wrong. In everything.

Quackity believed putting down the walls, Quackity believed in- now get this lunatic- Quackity believed in the good in people. He’s definitely failing his trial, Wilbur thought. Swords were the only way here, and one day, one day, Quackity was going to see that.

But yes, Jschlatt’s mighty arrival, making Jschlatt 2020. Then somehow- for some reason - combining it with Swag2020. He had asked Quackity to give this up and combine with Pog2020. He declined. He declined, and in his defense, he was right to. Wilbur knew he was just using him, not giving him any of the power he seeked over L’manburg.

Either way- either way- there was no way they’d win? Right? Right? Their literal ruling was to make L’manburg- well, not L’manbrug anymore, tearing down the walls! People had to see that, right?

The election went on, the votes were casted- but then it happened. He didn't expect this, he didn't expect this at all. There was always a pattern in his failures with these trials where it was something shocking. Something he wasn’t smart enough to see a few steps back.

Erets betrayal, now Swag 2020 winning.

It was a fair win, he had to give it to them. They won the vote. They won the vote, he couldn't be mad. He couldn't be. He couldn't be mad, him and Tommy failed, there was nothing to be mad abou-

“My first decree as president- as emperor of L‘manburg! Is to revoke! The citizenship of Wilbur soot and Tommyinnit!”

The third trial. This is what Wilbur considered the third trial.

Running through the nation known as the Dream smp, trying to run from their founded home. Being hunted alive at all times. It did hit him though, it hit him hard.

It wasn't right to be thinking about over throwing a politically elected government. It wasn't right at all.

“Let's be the bad guys, Tommy.”

There was no way to say that it was another failed part of the trial. Tubbo had left them- actually Tubbo had betrayed them! Tubbo had left Tommy! It was an entertaining part of this all, Tubbo- the Tubbo! The Tubbo, the sidekick, the yes man, Tubbo , betraying Tommyinnit!

God, maybe he was wrong about the kid! Maybe he did have some fight in him , some actual lead. Now the funny part about this- He couldn't stop laughing to the walls when he realized- L’manburg was going down no matter what from now on.

That place was going down, he was the only person able to rule it the way it was meant to be ruled. His unfinished symphony had the wrong conductors, barely had the right instruments- it wasn't even the right song. L’manburg was done for no matter what happened after this.

Philza had always told him he was smart, everyone always had actually. He was smart enough to know this is where it would end.

He had talked about how he said Tommy and Tubbo would follow him if they were strong enough earlier. Seems as though he wasn't strong enough to follow through with the truth to Philza. When push comes to shove, even after all the monstrosities he’d been planning, he doesn't want to disappoint his father. It did indeed hurt him to lie to Philza.

The ink those letters have reak of lies to anyone aside from him willing to read them. Good thing the ink was Phil and Wilburs favorite scent.

Was that another part of the trial? Probably, it had such an underlying effect on all of this. It forced him to actually think about every action that he had done, everything that had occurred. Forced him to think about his failures.

Did it all matter though? He’d been betrayed by his own son Fundy and Jack, had to have abandoned Niki- there was no one he could truly trust- and he had to flee what he had made.

However, with that, he had plans. Now in Pogtopia, he's given his plans condemning L’manburg- sorry, sorry, his bad, Manburg. The man, the myth, Technoblade. Technoblade had come to their assistance. His plan to destroy Manburg, he knows he said it as if it wasn't terrorism, but come on. Tommy should know by now, may as well just do it. That place is gone. It isn’t L’manbrg anymore.

Tommy’s afraid, but Wilbur didn't see why. He didn't see what there was to lose anymore- he was never going be president. He was never going to be president of the actual L’manburg at least. Tommys always been naive, quite the dreamer if you must. Challenging Dream, thinking he had a chance.

Oh yeah, the green bastard himself, Dream. An interesting character, you never know with him. His uncanny hate for what used to be L’manburg, his stupid fucking mask, his constant use of weapons, his power.

He's pure proof of the fact that power comes from iron and swords. A vile man, vile and smart .

The man who's enabling him now. Giving him the TNT he needs to blow up Manburg. An interesting character indeed.

The Manberg festival.

Another huge failure in his trials, the fourth trial- the fifth? He’d lost count. Manbeg’s celebration for existing, ending in execution. Tubbo had come around to Pogtopia a good lot, probably for Tommy. Tommy still trusted him after all this. Tommy’s quite, quite the character.

Another thing he didn't expect to sprung up, Technoblade being brought up on stage, by Jschlatt himself! Told to formally execute Tubbo! And actually doing it! Also Niki standing up, and being threatened? Jschlatt not even killing him when he offered his life? It was quite the show!

A part of him felt bad for telling Tubbo Technoblade wasn't going to hurt him. There was- it wasn't- he was wrong there. He was extremely wrong there.

Too bad he couldn’t find the fucking button.

Of course, Tommy, the big man he is, goes to the Technoblade thinking he could win. He goes to Technoblade, they fight in the pit, to be fair he put his anger into it! He put his determination into it! Too bad it just wasn't enough.

“Onto a new day, a new plot, to destroy Manburg.”

There we go! You'd think it'd end there, he’d find the button, push it, and it would be over.

Quackity and Tommy always had their way with words to Wilbur. Their mistake was thinking it actually worked.

That's also an interesting thing! Big Q, his rival! His enemy! Coming to Pogtopia? Betraying Jschaltt? What a pleasant surprise! What a pleasant, pleasant , surprise.

Fundy came, showing he’d been a spy the entire time. Didn't really matter, he'd always lost his son in the end. Then fucking Dream showed up!

Announced he’d switched sides for some book? What an imbecile- but he has his ideals we’ll give him that. As always, it ends with war. Down on the sixteenth.

And they'd won. Technoblades secret armor, providing them with everything they needed. Running through Manburg, Jschlatt dying. Of a heart attack too! None of us even got the satisfaction of killing him- the motherfucker!

But we had won. Well, I shouldn't say that. Pogtopia had won. Tommy and Tubbo and Quackity and Niki and everyone else there had won. Or so they thought. I finally got into that room- I was finally ready- and guess who shows up in all his glory.

Philza Minecraft.

That didn't matter anyway- I finally pressed that button and in the moment, death seemed like escapism! Death seemed like the way to go! I begged him to kill me, and guess what he did, he killed me! I died! It's not like anyone would even want me there!

But now looking at it, I was never right. I've been here for so long- so, so, so long. This train track- my voice is hoarse, I haven't seen anything- Anything! I haven seen anything else in years.

Shouting does nothing, my hands burn from punching, clawing, at the walls- this was a mistake. Another mistake in the trial. What even number part was this?

Thinking about this huge test down in the tracks was a good choice. I see my patterns- I see my errors! I don't know what I'm being tested for- I don't even know if I'm human anymore! But by prime- by prime when I get out, by prime when I get out I'm making sure I don’t fail it again.

I won't fail any of it again. I’ll make sure of-

...what was that?

Is that a- is that a train ?

...Dream? Casper? Why the fucks Casper the friendly ghost here? Whys he crying- whys he look like me?

...I'm free, aren't I? This ones going to be good.

#wilbur soot #wilbursoot #dream smp #op is not a wilbur soot apologist #be warned #cursing tw #actual post #prolly gonna write somethnig else along the lines of this sooner or later #if you do read it tell em what you think please!#tommyinnit #tubbo #quackity #just tagging ppl i mention alot to not clog up tags

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robin-the-enby · 4 years

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Chasing demons away

Requested by: @coldjudgestudentdeputy - Hello! I just want to say that your stories give me so much comfort and I am grateful for your writing. Could I request a comfort fic for Ikemen Vampire Comte with a self harming S/O. You don’t know how much you reading has helped me! Thank you so much! Much Love ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: le Comte de Saint-Germain x reader

Warnings: selfharm, suicidal intentions, lots and lots of angst, gore

A/N: Thank you again for being so sweet dear! You’ve got no idea how happy that made me and how honoured I feel that I can continue to bring you comfort. I hope I did a good job... Also, I wrote the reader as gender neutral, if you’d like me to change it, just ask ;) I’ll be glad to write something for you again if you’d need. Sending lots of strength through this post!

* * * * *

Everybody has bad days, there is no shame in that. Sometimes you just feel under the weather, be it for one reason or another. But when this feeling just doesn’t want to go away, and days turn into weeks, which turn into months, it becomes a problem.

When you became Comte’s partner, he assured you that you no longer had to work alongside Sebastian if you didn’t want to. That was of course unthinkable, not only would you feel extremely guilty for putting extra work on the poor man’s shoulders, you liked your job at the mansion. And quite frankly, you didn’t know what else you would do. Let’s be honest, it’s not like you could really pursue a career in 19th century... And sure, you had your hobbies, but you certainly couldn’t compare to the likes of your housemates. At least, that’s what you thought.

Abandoning your old life was not an easy decision, but certainly not one you regretted. Most of the time that is. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but feel insecure. Sometimes, thoughts of doubt would haunt and taunt you, whispering delicately in your ears how you don’t belong and how foolish you are for giving up your life to a man for who you are just a spec in his never ending life.

Now, both you and Comte were busy people. Running a mansion and looking after it were not easy tasks, but you knew that whenever you needed it, you could rely on your lover, even when your thoughts made you want to turn the other way, just so he wouldn’t be worried. But he knew what sadness looks like, he knew it better than anyone, and seeing your eyes clouded by the emotion clawed at his old soul. When your thoughts were especially loud, it took him one look at your face to know just exactly what’s wrong. He would take you to his room or at least somewhere where you two could be alone, tugged you close to him and held you as long as you needed. No matter how hard it was, you two were always able to chase away those demons of yours and in those moments did you truly know that you loved him and he loved you.

But no matter how many times did your lover chase those monstrous thoughts away, they always came back. It started out small, barely noticeable. One day, the moment you opened your eyes, it was like a heavy blanket was draped across your soul. It made the world seem gray and blank. Without thinking much of it, you went about your day as usual.

The first one to call you out on your unusual behaviour was Vincent at breakfast “Is somehing wrong (Y/N)?” You were puzzled, was there something wrong? After shaking your head in confusion, the painter elaborated “Your eyes don’t shine as usual.” he said and looked at you with worried eyes. You smiled at him, despite how unnatural the action felt to you “I guess it’s just a bad day. I’ll be fine,”

Turns out Vincent wasn’t the only one who noticed the change. Dazai mentioned you weren’t smiling as usual and Sebastian pointed out how quiet you are. On one hand you felt flattered that they noticed such a small detail about you, but a small voice in your head whispered “Look how worried you make them.”

The next days weren’t any better. But you were determined to not make anyone worried. For a while, it seemed to work. You concentrated on your daily tasks and dodged every question with “I’m fine.” and the best smile you could muster up. But it seemed the blanket didn’t want to be lifted at all. Every day you woke up more tired than before and pretending you were fine just so you wouldn’t worry anyone was becoming harder and harder each day.

It was not long before Comte noticed how your eyes weren’t clouded by just any sadness, but weighed down by immense pain. He questioned you about it, but you were stubborn, one of your traits he oh so loved about you, but now it did more harm than good. Through careful prodding he got out of you that you were indeed not fine, but didn’t wish to talk about it. That it was for his sake you didn’t say out loud, he didn’t need to know that.

Time passed and all the residents became quite worried for you. Whenever they approached you, asking how you were and if you would like to maybe go out, all you could see was the worry in their eyes. “You’re not doing well enough!” your mind tormented you “They shouldn’t have to worry about you, they have enough problems already!” And so the only rational thing in that moment was to isolate yourself even more. You were hurting, and just because you refused to share your pain with the others, you still needed an outlet.

“Ma chérie, do you know where is my razor?” Comte asked you from the bathroom attached to his room. “No idea, mon cher.” you answered innocently, but you couldn’t help the guilt that swirled in your gut at that lie. You really didn’t want to steal from your lover, the idea itself horrible and the act even worse, but there was no other way. You would take care of this problem, one way or another. “Oh well, seems I’ve lost it.” Comte made a mental note to ask Sebastian to buy him a new one once he’ll go out for groceries “I’ll be in my study, if you need me.” he gave you a kiss on the forehead and left you in the bedroom. Alone.

It was late in the afternoon when you finally got back to the room you shared with your lover. Dark thoughts plagued your mind the whole day and you were anxiously anticipating this moment. Slowly and carefully you took out the razor your lover ‘lost’ this morning. You sat on your side of the bed, eyes roaming the shining object in your hand. You slowly put one of your hands on your thigh, wrist facing up and brought the tip of the razor to your wrist. “Now or never.” your mind ordered.

Slice.

That... That wasn’t so bad. You haven’t done this in a long while, but it surprized you how easy it was. You could already feel the pressure easing away from your body, your eyes set on the cut that was quickly becoming darker with your blood. But it wasn’t enough. “Only one cut? What are you, a coward? Make it at least four!” the voice ordered. And you complied.

Soon, your whole wrist was covered in blood. As you came down from the high, you started panicking. How were you going to hide this from everyone?? They’d be so disappointed if they found out, you thought. “Or you could just finish the job.” your mind whispered. You knew where the artery in your hand was. How easy would it be to just slice it pen and let the river of blood flow out? You wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore. Nobody would have to worry about you anymore. Comte could find someone more stable than you. It’s what he deserved anyway...

The tip of the razor moved towards the outer side of your wrist. You were so numb that it almost felt like it moved on its own. Just as you began pressing down, a familiar voice interrupted your actions “Put the blade down ma chérie.”

Comte was pleased to find out that it had been only the afternoon when he was done with his work. He didn’t have to go to Sebastian immediately then. He got up and started walking to his room, to search for his lost razor for the last time. Now he wished he lost it.

Just as he opened the door, the strong scent of blood hit his nose like a slap to the face. Eyes quickly searched the room and to his horror, he found you sitting on the bed, his razor in your hand, fresh cuts on your wrist. You didn’t seem to notice him, eyes fixed on your wrist, the tip of the blade slowly moving towards a place where nothing sharp should ever touch you.

“Put the blade down ma chérie.” he softly called out to you, closing the door quietly behind him as he took a few steps forward. One wrong move and he could lose you. And he didn’t want to risk that. You whirled around to face him, eyes widened in panic, mouth opened a bit. Tears were streaming down your face, the sight so painful to him that it brought some into his own. He repeated his request. You didn’t budge, but Comte saw your grip on the blade tightening.

“Come on, you’re already this far, surely you’re not gonna chicken out?” your mind questioned, its voice turning sour and screechy instead of the honeyed murmurs you were used to. You hesitated. Oh but your lover’s eyes shone with tears and i them you saw desperation. For once he dropped his mask, allowed you and only you to see, truly see, just how much he needed you. You saw fear, and love and sadness so deeply rooted within him and it made your heart tear apart. You swore to yourself once that you’d be there for him, that he didn’t have to be alone anymore.

And so once again, your lover won over your ill mind. No matter how painful life would become, he would always come first. You dropped the wicked torture tool, which clanked loudly against the floor, staining it with your blood. It took you both only a few steps to meet each other at the foot of your bed. Comte didn’t hesitate to wrap you in his arms, holding you tighter than ever before, not caring that his clothes would get dirty, because how could he ever get mad at you?

As you held each other close you heard his quiet, almost completely inaudible sniffles. You pulled away from him a bit and cradled his face in your hands, wiping his tears away “Please don’t cry mon cher. I’m so sorry.”

Holding you close with one hand, he placed his other on the back of your head and peppered your face with gentle kisses and you smiled sadly at the gesture. Only when every inch of your skin received the love it deserved he pulled away “Please, please don’t leave me. After you stole my heart I promised myself I’d never let you go. I couldn’t bear to lose you, to be alone again.” You nodded your head in confirmation, guilt heavy on your chest again. “I can’t promise that everything will be alright, but you have to believe that I am here for you, whenever you may need me. Please, I am your lover, don’t ever hesitate to come to me.” “But, you shouldn’t have to-” you wanted to argue, but Comte pressed his pointer finger against your lips “You’ve helped me so much. I am a better man thanks to you. You support me, it’s only fair I support you too.” And even though your mind still didn’t quiet down, even it couldn’t find an argument against that.

After that, Comte quickly brought a first aid kit to his room and tended to your wounds. He took the rest of the day and night to show you just how much deserving of love and support you are and how much you truly mean to him.

#Ikemen Vampire #ikevamp comte #le comte de saint germain #comte x reader #selfharm #suicidal thoughts #insecurities #le comte de saint germain x reader #Ikemen vampire x reader #tw #requests open

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austennerdita2533 · 4 years

Text

A/N: Just a Literati trifle in celebration of GG’s 20th Anniversary Week. I still have another chapter or two to write but I wanted to get this out before the event officially ended. (Canon compliant + OS + divergences)

Also here: (AO3)

Enjoy!

xx Ashlee Bree

An Archive of Words Between Us

One day, many weeks into it but still no closer to clarity about what it is between them, Rory does what she does best: she makes a list.

Marked at the beginning, from when she and Jess first met, she soon starts to add to it with frightening regularity. A new entry comes any time there’s news, insight, questions, or growing confusion to report. She writes it all down. Out. She compiles everything in a beat-up old notebook she’s taken to carrying around.

Over the years that follow it becomes a confessional of sorts for her, a still developing story. She reaches for a pen whenever the mood strikes, and writes…then writes some more…

Committing to paper all the things they’ve said to each other over the course of their history, as well as many of the things they didn’t.

- i. things we said when we were strangers -

“Hey, Dodger, wait a minute,” she calls out before he disappears behind the gazebo. “Is this a gimmick of yours? Do you always write margin notes in the books you steal from strangers?”

Jess stops. Casts a cursory glance over his shoulder before turning back around with hands in his hoodie pocket.

“Depends, I guess.”

“On?”

“Does it matter?”

Rory shrugs.“You could be a literature-defacing miscreant on the lam for all I know. Your face might be tacked to Wanted posters all over New York City. I’ve got to edge my bets, protect my assets.”

“What,” he says, “you aiming to sentence me without a trial or something?”

“Thinking about it.”

“Wow. I can’t believe you’re going to bust out the cuffs already, Judge Judy,” he chuckles, raising his hands in supplication before rocking backwards on his heels like he’s been shot. “That’s not very neighborly.”

“Sounds like there’s evidence to be had if I dig a bit.” A pause. A teasing quirk of an eyebrow. “Is there?” she asks.

Though he stays silent at this, a spark of something catches deep in his dark eyes as their gazes meet, and Rory's stomach flips.

“Well?”

“You tell me,” he says, all smooth and inscrutable and James Dean cool as hell.

“I’m no Agent Scully at the FBI, but the truth is out there. Don’t think I won’t uncover it,” Rory replies, her wit flowing strong and sure. “If I think it’s warranted I could hire Kirk to lay chase for a while…he likes detecting. Takes payment in Skittles, too. Boxes of which I will have no trouble acquiring, I assure you.”

“Who the hell’s Kirk?”

“Let me worry about that,” she beams back at him coyly, bouncing the book he’d pilfered earlier against her hip.

“Save your Skittles, concerned citizen. I’m clean.”

“Oh, yeah? And why should I believe you when I hold proof to the contrary?”

“Because—” Ambling backwards in the middle of the street, a crooked smirk forms along the corner of Jess’s mouth as he gives her one last idle loll of his shoulder. “I only leave notes for people who might appreciate them. Start with the one on page three, by the way,” he adds with a farewell salute. “It’s a doozy.”

Curiosity piqued, Rory ignores the warmth in her chest as she watches him turn to leave a second time. Instead, she buries her nose in the margins of Howl and peruses. Losing herself in his tiny blocked script the whole walk home.

- ii. things we said because we were lying to ourselves -

Pacifying the town's fears about their friendship isn’t easy.

Especially not after Jess outbids her boyfriend at the basket-bidding festival to win an afternoon of her company. Or the night he shows up on her doorstep unannounced, bearing food and intellectual discussion after she swears to everybody else she wanted to spend the evening alone. Or when he wrecks her car on their way back from a spontaneous hunt for ice cream cones.

Then there’s the time she misses Lorelai’s graduation because she’s stuck on a bus next to some scruffy-looking creep who spits chew into a soda can while he mumbles the names of state capitals under his breath in an Appalachian-sounding litany, Rory having skipped town impulsively to visit Jess in the Big Apple after Luke had sent him packing because of an accident that had no real bearing or blame. At least not unless it was half hers to share in, too, in any case.

She expends a lot of energy defending what they are to people. Clarifying what they’re not.

Pretty soon a truncated version of the truth skips from her mouth like a message she’s spent months concocting, memorizing, and then recording, with her smart enough not to speak it aloud until it sounds convincing. And it does. She makes sure of it.

Tensions abate after that, for a time. Mostly because of the distance.

Mom and Dean, in particular, seem to breathe easier with so much of it stretched between them. They’re much happier once Jess is no longer there to lurk around Luke’s, or clog the aisles of Doose’s, or stake out chalkperson outlines on the sidewalks of town where he can draw her closer to him. Too close for comfort, as far as anyone else is concerned. Even if his only aim in doing so had been to imbibe her in intellectual conversation.

Rory finds it funny how his absence from Stars Hollow makes it both easier and harder for her to placate everyone’s misgivings. The words may be simple to say, but the meaning behind them feels deflated. Half-bodied at best.

Like calculus, it causes her headaches. Forces her to work twice as hard to make everyone believe she doesn’t care that he’s gone and likely never coming back again. That the vacant space he’s left behind doesn’t sting whenever her gaze passes over it, remembering.

Exhausting though it is, however, she does her best. She makes the effort.

She starts by dolling out extra attention and assurances to Dean about her commitment to him. To their relationship. Then she pivots around mention of Jess’s existence to her mom because she knows she doesn’t approve of him let alone agree about any of his good qualities. With Lane, she focuses on school and Mrs. Kim and music they can add to her floorboard collection. And in front of Luke, so as not to burden him with more disappointment, she acts as if nothing is different. Pretends that nothing much has changed.

Omission quickly becomes a habit for Rory. A way of life.

Only once does exposure threaten to spoil everything when her mom confronts her openly one afternoon about a placeholder that’s slipped out of her copy of For Whom The Bell Tolls.

“It’s nothing,” Rory says as she makes a quick grab for it in the kitchen and blushes.

“Really? Because nothing to me looks a hell of lot like a paper plate fragment. One that’s smudged in pizza grease and blue scribbles.” Laughing, completely unaware of her daughter’s wide-eyed discomfort and humiliation, Lorelai hands it back to her without inspecting it closely. “I’m surprised by your choice is all. Messy and makeshift isn’t your typical bookmark M.O., hun.”

“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when Paris accosts you at the break bell. You drop things. People jump, drinks spill. Beloved bookmarks go soaring…”

“Ah. I take it she was yelling in dog decibels again?”

“More like she put out an APB on all aliens living a few hundred million lightyears away and then gave them exact shouting coordinates for where to find her. So same difference, really.”

Her mom snorts. Passes over the ranch dressing.

“She’s a pill, that one. I’m telling you Pink wrote that song with her in mind.” Shaking her head, Lorelai closes the fridge behind her as she bites into another French fry. “So how’d you come by the plate?” she asks, her mouth full.

“It was spontaneous. I was running late so I nicked it from the cafeteria on my way out,” Rory lies, knowing full well Chilton never dispenses paper or plastic dishes for dining.

“Oh.” Her mom considers this. “Well, I suppose there were times even Madeleine Albright couldn’t find anything better to use in a pinch. That was very…replateful of you.”

“What can I say,” she exhales with relief, feigning amusement as her fib is accepted with alacrity, “the Forks was with me.”

“Only the Forks? Don’t tell me you’re leaving out the spoons and the knives. How could you?” says Lorelai, aghast, as she scoops stray kitchen utensils to press them against her chest in a bodily cuddle. “It’s cutlery discrimination!”

“No, it’s punning.”

“Says who?”

“Me.” A pause. A nibble of pizza. “Also, Shakespeare would agree.”

“Psssh, Shakespeare! That old killjoy,” her mom says dismissively, rolling her eyes in good humor as she tucks a box of strawberry Pop Tarts under her armpit and motions toward the living room. “What’s that you have written on the inside there, anyway? French? Calculus? Rolling Stone lyrics? A blueprint for the evil plan you’ve hatched to shoot Grandma to the moon? I’m dying to know.”

Waving her off, Rory tucks the shard back into the spine of her book where it belongs. Hiding it from view. “It’s for school,” she assures her as they settle onto the sofa.

“So tell me about it. I don’t care if it’s boring.”

“Pass.”

“Come on! I could use a good Chilton-instigated snooze.”

“Too bad. No beauty naps for you.”

Lorelai pouts, fake affronted. “Rude!”

(Turns out that ‘shard,’ that ‘thing for school’ which is stuck between the pages of Rory’s Hemingway, isn’t boring at all. In fact, it has a history. A story. The truth is it’s a souvenir she’s saved ever since she and Jess talked books over pizza at Antonioli’s on basket-bidding day.

Toward the end of the meal he’d ripped off a piece of plate so he could jot down his phone number and a quote. Only sliding it into her hand, folded in half, crinkled up like a note passed between desks at school, in the moments before they parted ways and headed home.

It’s stupid she’s kept it. She realizes that now. Stupider still to slip it between the pages of each new book she reads or unfurl it in the privacy of her bedroom to puzzle out if the line he’d included from A Moveable Feast is meant to have double meaning:

“We ate well and cheaply and drank well and cheaply and slept well and warm together and [liked] each other,” it reads.

Stupidest of all, she can’t seem to bring herself to stop looking at it. To throw the darn thing away. A note…a number…a greasy sliver of paper plate!)

“Like I said, Mom,” Rory swallows before smiling over at her convincingly, “it’s nothing. Really.”

- iii. things we said on the verge (of something) -

In early June, Sookie’s wedding day arrives.

Things are static again. Serene. Normal.

Granted, slight changes do sprinkle into the mix here and there because of her dad’s presence, because Dean holds her a little tighter around the waist now than he once did, but mostly it’s the same here as it’s always been. Pleasant people fade into gossip and nonsense while fun blurs into peculiarity.

Life feels simple once more. A tad plain and colorless, maybe, but simple.

Then Jess returns to town on a whim or a fluke or a who the devil knows what he’s thinking and everything goes sideways, pear-shaped, belly-up-and-down in seconds because this is the last thing she’d been been expecting and suddenly the only thing that registers is the length of the grass plus the number of steps it will take to close the distance between them. All that matters is he’s here, he’s back, he’s near enough to touch, and she’s smiling so hard she can hardly breathe as she drinks him in from head to foot like a glutton: her pulse leaping, her heart lurching free from the cage of her chest.

The whole world tilts. Collapses. The pale yellow of the sun shines down like a spotlight so it’s only a rippling alcove she sees. Just him, just her. Just them canopied beneath these flittering fronds of green.

Any rational thought Rory possesses scatters across the wind with the pollen. And then before she knows it, the ground tilts out like a ramp underfoot.

It pushes her forward. Outward. Sliding her toward him until she’s thrust and tangled in his arms with no memory at all of how she got there, or why their mouths feel so hot and wanton like this, so damn unsatisfied. It all seems impossible considering they’re still pressed together in a kiss that can only be described in one way: illicit.

“Not a word,” Rory pants when they stop and Jess pulls back, his jaw taut, his expression shuttered, to nod once understanding.

“Okay,” he says.

“Promise me.” The huskiness of her voice feels at odds with this demand, with the trembling fist she still has curled in the lapel of his jacket, but she cannot think about her stinging mouth or his tongue right now so she clings to desperation instead. “Can you do that?”

“Okay,” he repeats, all eyes, eyes, eyes. And with that single look, she forgets to breathe let alone digest anything he’s promised.

In the end, it’s an impulse that overtakes them not a decision. It’s a moment of clandestine passion they share, not a confession that will alter the circumstances any.

And yet it’s guilt, not regret, that begins to pull like an anchor in her belly until she’s running in shoes that chafe the back of her heels. It’s terror and confusion, not apology, that ripples along her nerve endings until she’s dashing through the trees like a coward or a swindler because she needs to believe behind her there’s still a haven of black and white she can cross with both feet.

Only when Rory stops does she feel the change. Does she discern the difference. It takes one sting, one breathless stitch in her side, for her to know she’s tumbled forward into color without noticing.

Looking down, and there it is. His name already singed across her chest in scarlet letters.

- iv. things we whispered on the hood of your car -

“Tell me something no else knows.”

“About what?” he asks around midnight the following April, the two of them sprawled on the hood of his car at a deserted rest stop off the I-95 on their way back from a concert in the city.

“You, silly.”

“Funny you’re thinking about penning my biography already, Churchill. I’m honored, truly, but aren’t I too young for that sort of enumeration?”

With a roll of her eyes plus a protracted har-har, Rory lifts their intertwined hands, watching, mesmerized, as their fingers thread then unthread as they lay side-by-side parked beneath the Big Dipper in this forsaken parking lot. Though they’ve been together about six months now, prying Jess open has been slow work. It’s like taking a crowbar to cement: one chip, one crack, one crumble at a time.

“Stop deflecting, Mariano,” she warns. “Evasion’s for chumps.”

“Fine,” he sighs. She presses a kiss of reward against his knuckles before curling tighter into his side. “How about this: every year roughly sixteen hundred people in New York City are bitten by other humans.”

“Bitten?”

“Yep.”

“Why?”

“That’s just it,” he says in his best horror story voice, “could be vampires, could be cranky commuters, could be urban mania or road rage…nobody knows.”

“Oh, please. As if I’d let you off the hook with that obvious dodge. You’re killin’ me here, Smalls!” Rory says with an elbow rib and tsk. “Second of all, you so made that biting thing up.”

When she edges her head back onto his shoulder to look at him, Jess drags his pointer finger down her forehead before bopping her affectionately on the nose, his expression neutral.

“Didn’t you?” He shrugs in that cute off-the-cuff way of his then smirks into her hairline. “That’s unbelievable!”

“It is what it is.”

“So, what,” she says as she throws her leg over his hip to lug him closer, her arm already stretched out across his middle, “is there a case of zombiepox going around that the CDC has neglected to inform us about? Because I’ve got to tell you if that’s so then I’ll need an inoculation ASAP, mister! Frazzled, bloodshot, and half-rotted is not a good look for me. It just isn’t.”

“Oh, I know.”

“Hey!” she exclaims.

“No offense, critter of Frankenstein,” he chuckles, absorbing her retaliatory swat with a grunt and rolling her further on top of him, “but I’ve seen you pre-coffee. It isn’t pretty. We’re talkin’ bolts out your neck, monster glares, frothing purple mouth and everything.”

“Yeah, yeah. Keep up your running tally and you might find I bite you next. Rory the Ripper does have a nice alliterative ring to it—you best remember that,” she warns all narrowed eyes and silky breath and arms folded under her chin.

Jess cocks his left eyebrow, brushes his thumb over her bottom lip. “Idle threats don’t scare me, Gilmore.”

“They should.”

“Maybe.” A lazy grin forms at the edges of his mouth. “But yours don’t.”

“Fine,” she blows out a breath. With her head resting in the center of his chest, Rory fixes him with one long steady look, her voice dropping an octave lower as it drains free of sarcasm to assume a more serious edge. “Name one thing that does then. That scares you, I mean,” she says.

He doesn’t answer right away. In fact, he fidgets so long beneath her that by the time he settles with his hands clasped behind his head, lost in thought and translation, peering up at the sky, she’s half convinced that silence or deflection is the best she can hope to expect from him in reply.

Reticence is a quality she’s come to recognize in Jess. It’s one she can reflect back at him in part because they’re both cut from the same quiet, introspective cloth. However, it’s also one that restricts her access to his thoughts and feelings when she most wants it, and that can take a toll. Makes her wonder if they’re parked at different weigh stations in this relationship or not.

It’s bizarre to reconcile how she can understand him so well in some contexts, to the point where she can predict his next reaction or sense a good joke hanging in the periphery that's about to descend; while in others, he’s a total head-scratcher. Like a Sudoku puzzle with numbers that don’t add up to anything.

The silence between them continues to stretch. It becomes an awkward, formless wall.

The stillness, too, which is illuminated only by the light of the moon and the faint din of the car radio, hangs between them until he draws her up his body and folds her over him with a green plaid blanket. His fingers tracing languid strokes up and down her spine.

“Swans,” he says at last, his tone subdued. Scratchy. “Swans scare me.”

“What else?”

“Tennis balls. They’re too small and fast as they zip past. I hate how they can leave imprints on your face like ugly yellow snitches.”

“Okay then. Weird but fair. What else?” Rory asks all warmth and eagerness, her eyes searching his for something he wouldn’t want to slip free.

“Pennywise.” Though she snickers at that, it’s a valid fear. Clowns unsettle her, too. Evil ones especially. She’d had nightmares for eight months after she’d read Stephen King’s It for the first time, and had taken to sleeping with the bedside lamp on for years.

“Anything more?” she asks.

“Cricket bats.”

“Ooh-ho!” Poking him, “So Mrs. Kim got to you, did she?”

“Listen, I tried to be cool and unaffected but who knows what would’ve become of my head if she’d taken a swing with that thing?” Jess shudders at the same time she imagines Humpty Dumpty and laughs. “Jeez.”

“Things would’ve gotten messy,” she adds honestly.

He stalls a moment, then blinks back at her all wariness to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. “How messy are we talking here?”

Rory cocks her head and bites the corner of her mouth, musing. “Think pumpkins.”

“Smashed ones?”

“Yep.”

“Figures,” he mutters miserably.

With an encouraging pat, “Don’t worry, I would’ve stepped in before Mrs. Kim buried your handsome yet indignant face beneath the floorboards or behind a brick wall in the catacombs with Fortunato. It’s the least I could do since I sort of like you and all.”

“Sort of?” Jess asks.

“Yeah. I’m no unreliable narrator girlfriend who'd escort you to your doom, you see. I’d much prefer to keep you,” she says with an adoring grasp and swivel of his chin, which he deflects by tickling her breathless as she bends down over him.

“Gee thanks, Casper. Nice to know you care about me.”

“Not about you exactly,” she teases, her flip-floppy giggles still piercing the air. “Just your head.”

That stops him. “My head, huh?”

“Sure.” Still a little breathless, she reaches toward him to fist her fingers through thick black tendrils along his nape. “It’s pretty.” She gives the strands a little tug. “Full of thoughts I’m hoping to pilfer for further study.”

“You know, I always thought there was some hoodlum in your DNA. Now I’m convinced,” he says as he leans over to commence the tickling again. “And you will pay."

The two of them continue to roll then thump against his windshield all elbows and knees until the levity starts to leaden and transform. As Jess reaches over to cup her cheek, their gazes meet in the silvery darkness and hold, kindling like flint.

Quiet washes over them again for a moment. Only this time, it’s bloated; it’s heavy. It’s a mess of a hundred thousand decipherable something’s teetering on the precipice of expression.

A flicker of alarm passes over his features as he frames her face with his hands, palms flat against the car. He hovers aloft, unsure. Indecision mixes with fear to tangle with retreat even as gravity beckons him nearer, his head dropping low enough for their foreheads to touch.

“I sort of like you, too, you know,” Jess breathes softly, his lips lowering to press against her mouth in a quick but lingering kiss. “A lot.” His jaw clenches. “Maybe too much.”

Suddenly there’s a tightrope pulled taut and vibrating in every direction because there’s no shrinking back from the dense electricity pulsating between them. There’s no more room to dance around unnamed emotion whenever it identifies itself in blown pupils, in a bobbing Adam’s apple, in hands that slip and slide until they fit together like aligning planets.

In that instant Rory knows. She knows right then and there she’s falling in love with him, that she’s half fallen already. And it’s both a revelation and a fact so natural she can feel the truth of it whistling from deep in her bones.

Looking nervous, vulnerable, more fragile than she’s ever seen him, he swallows hard then shifts to squint out at the shadowy tree line while scratching at his nape. “It’s just…so many people have treated me like garbage that all I know how to do is spoil things. I destroy, Rory—ruin what’s good. It’s what I do best. It’s all I know. I’m trying here and all, but I…don’t know how to do this,” he says, gesturing lamely between them. “How to do us right.”

“Hey now,” she thumbs his cheek, tries to turn his head back toward her but it won’t budge, and neither will he. “That’s my boyfriend you’re talking about. Go easy on him, will you?” He nods into her palm, softening a little. The tension leaves his body as he gathers her in his arms again, her head conforming to the crook of his neck, but she’s not convinced all is well yet.

“There’s no rulebook or anything,” Rory says placatingly. “We’ll figure it out together, okay? You and me.”

“Yeah.”

“We will,” she says with an emphatic, assuring squeeze. “I know we will.”

With a caustic laugh, a heavy sigh, he runs his teeth over his lip, “I’m a screw up, Rory.”

“Hey. Not true.”

“I am.” Jess sounds so resigned, so convinced, it ties her into knots thinking he sees himself that way.

“Not to me, you’re not.”

“No,” he says with a deadened inflection, with a sad downturn of his mouth. “Not to you.”

Frowning, she feels his cynicism, his self-deprecation, descend like a slash across the gut. Helpless to do anything but try to be a soft place for him and his insecurities to land, she pulls him toward her, embracing him, quieting him, caring for him more with each passing second even though a warning gong goes off in her heart when she leans in to steal another kiss.

“Maybe I’m not a screw up to you yet,” he whispers, “but I could be at another time. On another day.”

“Stop,” Rory declares forcefully, holding her finger against his lips so he knows she means it.

Jess relents. “Okay,” he sighs. “Just know I’ll get it if you change your mind.”

- v. things we cried out at a crossroads -

Strained.

Silent.

Distant.

Those are the best adjectives to describe the status of her and Jess’s relationship as the bus pulls away from the curb a couple weeks later. After the party from hell. From her place on the sidewalk, her chest full of a heaviness she can’t name, Rory stares after it - after him - with little to no regard for the hour’s lateness or for the morning bell which signals the start of homeroom.

It’s the middle of May. That means finals, graduation, and summer loom on the periphery but she doesn’t care. None of it resonates. In the background she can hear Paris barking orders at a few trembling freshman and minted sophomores, but she does nothing to intervene. She makes no move to prevent her frenemy’s yellow journalistic splatter from crushing the innocents to smithereens.

Instead, she watches the hum and bump of the vehicle’s dusty rubber wheels as they roll down the street. She tracks the plume of smoke swirling from the exhaust pipe into the sky, which clouds over with blacks and grays instead of with clearing blues and radiant yellows. She waits until the bus turns left, its engine loud, roaring, to putt around the corner. Disappearing from view.

I hope he calls later, she thinks with a pang, with an iota of hope. We need to talk soon.

Rory’s eyes want to keep traveling with him long after he’s gone. So do her feet. They seek to follow along wherever Jess has gone, to ride beside him until they’re able to make sense of this mess between them and fix it. Fix them again.

Unfortunately for them both, they don’t. And it’ll be some time before they can, let alone before they do.

#gilmore girls #gilmore girls fanfiction #literati #literati fanfiction #ggturns20 #gganniversaryweek #ashlee bree's writing endeavors #it needs editing #but hopefully it's not as awful as i'm imagining it to be #*bites knuckles and hides*

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yyxgin · 3 years

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as quick as love alarm was progressing compared to other dramas i’ve seen (usually wait ten eps for the first kiss and that’s it) it still seemed,, idk important for the story? n e way.

meteor garden is insanely messy like in the final episode daoming si just mentions everything dong shancai did that makes her so amazing and i honestly forgot they even did some of their things 😳 at one point they went to london and filmed in china town and i was just like ‘oh. i know that place’ and didn’t clock after that 😭

I GOT PEN ON THE BACK OF IT IM SO MAD AT MYSELF ✋✋✋✋✋ but come find me anyway lmao i got a changbin & minho film strip 🤪 can’t have anything nice around here and i learned my lesson the hard way.

i went through a phase when whenever i watched english tv i was like ‘why does this make sense without subs..’ and would be like squinting at the screen until it occurred to me that it was in english.

oh bruh i remember making a bank account the second summer bc my employer was like why tf do you not have a bank account ,, yeesh people had been paying by card for meals and stuff and not cash like the year before. so i made one and then she paid me in cash bc people started paying w cash 😐😑😐😑 i waitress so even though i get anxious about other things, i’m comfortable about waitressing so i am super nice to everyone. i am the designated person who orders for everyone (as long as you point at what you want in case i can’t remember everything i will say it). i know how important it is to be articulated to your server bc if they f up you get mad and they get mad bc ur mad and the chef gets mad bc the server f-ed up and the chef has to cook again and it’s a never ending circle of wishing you’d just gone somewhere else and i hate that. i also get mad at my fam when we go out bc the last time we went out (literally like two years ago now bc covid) there was a guy serving at this place we’re fairly frequent at and i was like maybe he’s training don’t be so mad at him for forgetting things just gently remind him! don’t cuss him out behind his back! there’s so much pressure about not pissing off your colleagues bc there’s a groove they’ve got and you’re just there not wanting to ruin it whilst also meeting customers needs!!

ive been waiting to pass my drivers test for over a year now bc covid has pushed it back and back and back again 😐 i finally get my next test date and i have to ask a different instructor for their car bc my instructor is on annual leave when my test is scheduled. i’m holding it together so i can ask an instructor, buy a car and yeet. the bus is okay but i need my own space sometimes.

i am good w my money im the jungkook of the working class. if there are pots and pans on the go i will take them. free food? count me in. i do have that broke b*tch mindset. although i don’t buy $300 white tshirts i will spend $200 on a day out 😃 and sis,, buy whichever one you like bc of the concept!! it’s always fun seeing the posters (personally i don’t put them up bc how am i gonna have sir johnny suh STARING at me while i get changed,, no THANK YOU) i’ll cry if i ever pull a yuta card bc he looks ✨spicy✨ in all of them.

i think i get what you’re saying about gg’s! boy groups have a wider range. eg, haechan hits those high notes and jeno/mark rap/sing quite low but girl groups can’t. unfortunately i feel like they rely on visuals heavier bc they don’t have the same range bg’s do. itzy are good!! i personally haven’t listen to a lot/watched a lot of their mv’s. i’m more into red velvet for their mv’s. im terrible at watching content so i am slowly working through bts’ content, monsta x’s content and ocassionally nct’s content. im gonna work on mamamoo next 🤞fake fans unite 😔✊✨

it’s so easy to feel invisible here. don’t worry. i’m here to brighten your day! much like a sunflower ~ 🌻

I cant really speak about the importance of the kiss in love alarm since i didnt watch more than the first ep, but i will trust you if you really say so ?? 😳 I WANNA WATCH METEOR GARDEN JUST FOR THE DRAMA DHSNSK

dude dont fucking test me i WILL find your address and i WILL visit you in your sleep and steal all your kpop stuff. MINHO FILM STRIP ??????? AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

i still watch english things w eng subtitles sometimes bc my first language isn't english so just in case i dont hear something i can always read it you know djsksk

this is my first job so i didnt have to have bank account before but now that i have it i feel very adult😩✋i am so old. i dont like it.

oh no i hate people that arent polite to waitresses like they are just doing their job and its so hard and stressful and i dont want to make their life harder so im just really anxious abt everything in my life ever.

i'm rooting for you on your driving test !! lets hope you make it after such a long time <3

JUNGKOOK OF THE WORKING CLASS NO- thats actually me. also free samples. give me all of them. also i think its completely justified to spend so much on a night out since its for the memories !! #yolo am i right

I AM SO TEMPTED TO ORDER THE ALBUM NOW 😭💔😭 i actually have my posters on my closet and i change inside the actual closet at all times bc me and my brother share a room, so no one's looking at me thankfully haha. well, i do have bts pics on the warderobe next to my bed as well so they watch me sleep every night but we dont talk about that. YUTA CARD i would cry. he for sure does look spicy half the time of his life.

i dont know that many rv songs (the audacity, i know) but seulgi... ah. i watched the sm new years concert and when she appeared i couldnt keep my eyes off her. i should really listen to more of their songs so if u have any recs i am all ears

thank you for brightening up my day sunflower ily mwah😔❤

#lowkey wanted to apologise for replying late again but like that would be annoying #💌ask #🌻 anon

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callsignbaphomet · 3 years

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🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊🖊

Y'think thats enough pens? Either way I don't expect you to do somethin for aaaaaaaaaall of em lol

Gsudkblbzysuv hun, this is so beautifully chaotic!

🖋 Ginger's a vampire but both of her dads (Lee Grimm and Glenn Grimm) are werewolves (Mist Walkers). Both are trans men.

🖋 Jelani uses male, neutral or female pronouns. Has no preference to which ones someone should use.

🖋 Trevor knows ASL. His little brother was deaf and in his memory he learned ASL.

🖋 Angelus sorta, kinda had a daughter. Ok tl;dr back in the late 1800s he ran into this little girl that was living in the street and tried to steal some money off him but she got caught. He gave her everything he had on him and then she ran off and he lost track of her. Much later he found her again but this time she was a bit older, like 11 years old. They recognized each other and they both went to get a bite to eat and she told him she ran away from home because her parents were abusive. Obviously coming from a similar background he heavily sympathized but he didn't know the first thing about kids but he still took her in. She grew up, married and had kids of her own and those kids grew up and eventually his adopted daughter (her name was Alice) grew old and died of old age. He kept in contact with his sort of grandkids obviously but as his great grandkids grew older and had families and kids of their own Angelus distanced himself. How the fuck are ya gonna explain your sort of adoptivr great grandfather looks like a 20 year old twink? He's kept an eye out on them as a "friend of the family".

🖋 AJ introduced Angelus, Mahmud, Tre and Madison to his favorite hobby: parkour. The five of them regularly get together to free run in places they think would be both challenging and fun.

🖋 Madison introduced Mahmud, AJ, Tre and Xiomara to spelunking and scuba diving as a hobby.

🖋 Sanaa loves and collects windchimes. So Ingvarr modified an alarm clock to make any chime she puts on it chime whenever she sets the alarm. So instead of some jarring alarm she wakes up to a windchime.

🖋 Angelus has an abnormally high tolerance for pain to the point where he won't react to most injuries. This was due to years of having to learn to control his cries of pain because the more he cried out the harder he'd get beaten.

🖋 Trevor holds the world record for longest confirmed sniper kill. Can't be found in any public record but it's in Oracle records and that's good enough for him.

🖋 Jelani (Loke and Jela's grandad, not J lol) and Subira made a spell called "Bright Light". Basically a faint little orb of light that when cast makes anyone near it calm down. It works for regular nervousness, anxiety, panic attacks, anger and so on. It's one of those beginner type spells that barely requires any energy and it can either hover over the caster's palm or it can be "attached" to an object.

🖋 Sunniva (she was Ingvarr's first wife and the woman who gave birth to Loke) is still alive. After she became pregnant she heavily regretted it so that's why as soon as Loke was born she ran away without telling anyone anything. Loke was always told that she disappeared but honestly speaking he never knew her so he has no attachment to her. To him Sanaa is HIS mother and only her.

🖋 Latoya was what you would consider a sickly kid. Someone in another country sneezed and she got sick. Her colds and flus lasted longer than usual and she was a super skinny little girl. When puberty hit she took up sports and when she was 18 she started lifting weights, blew up in terms of muscle tone and got laser eye surgery. Now she's like Rambo in his prime but pretty.

🖋 Abigail is constantly coloring her hair different colors but her favorite is any hue of green since that's her favorite color. She'll also help and color anyone else's if they ask her for help.

🖋 Ginger and Abigail got married on October 13th. Yes, the wedding had a Victorian goth theme to it. Even though they couldn't eat it the cake was red velvet with black frosting and everything. It almost looked like a funeral 'cause everyone was wearing black. I hope to doodle Ginger and Abby in their wedding dresses someday.

🖋 Haakon had a habit of collecting leaves from different countries he visited and kept them safe. Ingvarr and Jørgen both keep journals with leaves of different countries they've visited. They write down the tree the leaf came from, country where they got it from and date.

🖋 Anette can't drive until she's 21. When she was 14 she took Jelani's car, drove her and a bunch of her friends super late at night in winter (from what I've read driving in Norway during winter is horrible), crashed into another car after she lost control, totalled both Jelani's car and the other car and severely injured some of her friends and the other driver. The funny/not funny part is Jela was planning on giving her that car when she got her license but she totalled it. It was BMW by the way. Fuckin' teenager driving around in a 2 year old Beemer lol.

🖋 Speaking of cars. Grete (Anette's mother and Loke and Jelani's aunt) is horribly afraid of driving. She can't get behind the wheel of a car without freaking out. Anette crashing made the fear 10x worse. She can be in a car as long as she isn't driving and the car isn't going too fast.

🖋 During a visit Anette convinced both her parents and Jelani to let her stay with him during the summer. She also convinced both Leah and Xolani to stay over as well. So for a whole ass summer Jelani had three teenagers staying over as a kind of sleep over vacation. It actually turned out fun in the end, the kids had fun and Anette and her rebellious attitude kinda softened.

🖋 Anette, Xolani and Leah have one defining thing in common. None of them know what to do with the rest of their lives. Thing is Leah is very nervous about it, Xolani is kind of aloof about it and Anette is kinda of frustrated about it. Anette is frustrated which leads her to act out and cause trouble. Xolani just looks like they don't care but they do. Leah is super nervous about it. Another thing they got in common is the three of them tend to look up to Loke and Jelani 'cause they feel both understand them better than their parents do.

🖋 Ginger is kinda very obsessed with portals. She's fascinated by them but also respects them as they are incredibly dangerous and unpredictable. She is basically the only person in the world that managed to control portals even if it's for a short amount of time.

🖋 Shaine got really into explosives when she was just a kid. After an accident with a dozen cherry bombs she was left partially deaf, now has to wear a hearing aid and is the explosives expert.

🖋 Before joining Oracle Katya financed her transition by making fake IDs and passports. She also doxxed corrupt government officials and ransomed vital information she got off them.

🖋 Loke is allergic to bird dandruff but would love to have a pet pigeon. At least he can have dogs which is his other favorite animal. His favorite dog is the pitbull.

🖋 Until he got together with Jelani all of Angelus's previous relationships were short and ended in kind of disaster because he constantly compared them all to Jelani and to him they didn't measure up. He ultimately said no to relationships around the 1930s and just fucked around. Obviously until he got shit faced once and confessed to Jelani he was in love with him and the rest is history.

🖋 Tre is one of the super rare seers that can see and feel visions. He's so sensitive that merely standing in an area with a lot of energy could affect him.

🖋 In Oracle there is a head of the organization and two leaders. Current head is Aleksey with Jelani and Angelus as leaders. There's always three as kind of a callback let's call it to when Oracle was started. Aleksey and two close friends started it so from then on there's always 3 leads. When Aleksey steps down Jelani will be head, Ginger will be the second lead and Angelus is the third lead, however he plans on making Trevor the third lead. The reason is because Angelus is fully aware of what he can and can't do and he knows damn well that he isn't lead of an organization material. When he steps down he'd be the Trickster team leader, that he can handle, and since Trevor left a vacant spot Loke would take that spot.

🖋 There is a place called Kironia. It's theorized to be a sort of epicenter for portal activities. Angelus and Ginger have been tasked with keeping an eye on it but it's shrouded in so much mystery most people don't think it's real.

🖋 Despite the fact that Trevor personally knows a Maker and a goddess (Jade, Latoya's girlfriend) he's still an athiest.

🖋 Trevor didn't have a name growing up, he chose the name Trevor because it sounded pleasant. He took his surname, Ravencroft, from a woman he'd heard of from other Oracle agents. He eventually got to meet Morgana Ravencroft, she thought it was flattering he took her name.

🖋 Speaking of Morgana Ravencroft, Angelus was first introduced to the concept of magic because of her. He went with Trevor to help him with some supplies and after being completely hypnotized by some illusions she gave him a book on the basics and helped him get started.

🖋 Loke stopped aging and it's something of a weird occurrence that is brought up every so often. When he was 28 years old he and Jelani (who was 15 at the time) were delivering some supplies to another village. They ran into bandits and as usual Loke was trying to protect Jelani and in doing so he was fatally wounded. Of course Jelani freaked the fuck out and his "fail safe" kicked in. Jela doesn't remember but Loke does, he saw Jelani change form and after dealing with the bandits he turned his attention to Loke and stopped him from dying. He was rusty as fuck so he put a little more oomph behind it and a tiny portion of his energy slipped into Loke. Neither of them know but Loke is basically kinda frozen in time when it comes to aging. So because of this Loke can't die unless Jelani dies.

🖋 Loke has a black feather that's warm to the touch and small embers can be seen floating out of it. He's never mentioned it to anyone and keeps it close to him. The feather came from Jelani when he changed form to fight off the bandits. After he blacked out and changed back Loke found the feather on the ground. He knew where it came from that's why he kept it. He's never told Jelani about that day because he doesn't know what it means and he thinks telling him would only serve to confuse him further.

🖋 Continuing with Loke, he's your average run of the mill berserker. That means he cannot use magic while in berserker mode or even with his weapons. The only ones that can do that are arcanist berserkers (the Nyota tribe). Sanaa is an arcanist berserker, she can use magic while in berserker mode. However, through years of practice Sanaa managed to teach Loke one spell that her people are really fond of. Falling Stars is a spell that has the user charge a single arrow. The arrow is shot upwards and as soon as it reaches high enough it splits into hundreds of arrows that rain down on the target. Loke started practicing when he was 8 years old and by the age of 30 he managed to pull it off making him the first berserker to use magic.

🖋 Jelani and Leah are two of the extremely rare and fortunate people that have gone through a portal and have returned. Whether their return was sheer luck or the fact that he's a Maker is something I'll elaborate on later.

🖋 Haakon knew Jelani wasn't a berserker. Haakon himself had a feeling that his grandson was something far more, if that makes sense. The day Jela was born Haakon had a dream but instead of fear he just felt an insurmountable amount of wonder. He's only ever told his wife, Eli, who in turn believed him. Both always made sure Jela didn't feel out of place and Haakon frequently encouraged him.

#theonedayking #reply #oc things #long post

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cynicalrainbows · 4 years

Text

The Next Best Thing Pt 3

So this is a very long rambley chapter of this Catalina-adopts-babey-Cathy au. I’m not sure if I’m entirely happy with how it turned out- I was trying to do a few things, really: get better at writing from the POV of actual small children (which is incredibly difficult and also quite fun) and also have a go at describing what an absolute headfuck grief is.

Like, I cannot get over how when people die, you’re expected to get around the angry and sadness and confusion...and ALSO just sort of....live your normal life. And it’s especially difficult that those two things then get mixed up: I remember sitting by my dad’s deathbed and watching him die and just feeling sort of....fine? A bit numb but also very concerned with extremely mundane things like did I remember to say thank you to all the nurses and did I remember to wash up the cups we’d made tea in? And then the next morning, I was on the edge of going into the road to throw things at the inconsiderate bastards who were just driving around and going to work like it was a normal day. And then three months later, I was sobbing hysterically while I made paninis at work because of some minor comment my absolute cunt of a boss made. And even now, years later, I had a sudden moment the other week when it suddenly hit me that I was never ever going to be able to say thank you to dad for the lovely things he wrote in my birthday cards. AND a moment of anger that I was never going to be able to have it out with him for lots of stuff I’m still angry with him for.

And then to have to deal with that as a child? Sweet Jesus. I honestly don’t know how children manage.

I was also trying really hard to get across the absolute mindfuck that is just being a 6-9 yr old girl. Like...I only vaguely remember being seven but still. And watching the children at my work? Good god.

SO i hope you all like it. I probably went overboard with making Aragon soft but I refuse to apologise because soft Aragon is the best Aragon.

Enjoy!

****

She used to like school, back before, but that was back when everything was different, when she had a Mum to collect her like everyone else and when she could write about going to the park and the library and the swimming pool in her newsbook just like everyone else.

Catalina has taken her to the park, to the library- but she can’t let herself enjoy it now. She keeps hoping that her parents will bob up from behind a bush or a bookshelf and tell her that everything was just a big misunderstanding- but they don’t. They never do, but she can’t stop herself hoping it, even if doing so feels like prodding a wobbly tooth- just as painful, just as impossible to resist.

Even the idea of school feels wrong now- school belongs back then, toher old normal.

Now, normal is staying at home with Catalina, trips to bookshops (new ones with cafes and shiney displays, old ones where the books are tired and tattered, with yellowing pages that smell of old paper and dust) which she likes, trips to church (which she wishes she liked) and trips to see a therapist (her therapist) which she has decided that she definitely doesn’t like.

She doesn’t like the stuffy waiting room, she doesn’t like the waiting room toys- the books with pages torn out and scribbles all over the cover, the sad barbies left lying with their legs splayed and half their clothes missing, the jigsaw puzzles where all the pieces are mixed together.

There are better things in the actual therapy room- paints and a real easel, better craft supplies even than at school- but after the first session, when she’s meant to be fetching her coat, she hears the therapist lady (Doctor Jenny, she is meant to call her) talking to Catalina about her, asking how she’s settling, asking if they’re coping….and she hates the thought of being discussed so much that she decides not to talk there again. Not even for the sake of the easel, and she rips the painting she made in her session into pieces in the backseat of the car on the way home. She wants to throw them out of the window but that would be littering and she has sat through enough school assemblies about littering to know that it is one of the worst, worst things you can do (aside from drawing in library books and pushing people into traffic) so she doesn’t, just holds the balled up painty scraps of paper in her fists until she can drop them into the bin where they belong.

School isn’t her new normal- but now apparently Catalina has to go back to work and she has to go back to school whether they want to or not.

‘Can’t you keep teaching me here? I did all my workbook-’ She quite likes filling out the booklets that the school had sent ‘in the interests of not falling behind’, although it feels funny to fill them out sitting on the sofa and wearing her weekend clothes.

‘I’d like to, querida.’ Catalina looks tired- she’s been frowning and looking at papers, then typing, then frowning again and pressing the back space key very, very hard- but now she swivels her chair around to look at Cathy properly. ‘I really would. But we wouldn’t be allowed.’

‘Why not?’

‘It’s the law, you have to be in school...and I have to go back to work…before everything just completely falls apart without me….’ She looks at the papers, drops them back into the pile. ‘You’ll be able to see all your friends again- you’d like that, wouldn’t you?’

She shrugs. She would like to see Anne- but she hasn’t seen her properly since before then, only talked to her on the phone and Anne had kept talking about Anna, the new girl, about how she’s sitting with Anne til Cathy is back, about how she brought in a big cornet of sweets to share on her first day, about how there was something called Katjes that was really liquorice…. and even thinking about it makes her chest feel tight and scared because what if Anne doesn’t want to be best friends any more? (What if Anna is more fun?)

Catalina takes both of her hands in her own and kisses them. ‘It will be ok, querida. I promise.’

(Catalina always tells the truth but it’s harder to believe her this time.)

She watches from the doorway that evening as Catalina lays out clothes- stiff suits and high, high heels, skirt and blouse and school jumper- and feels sick.

She sleeps badly, picks at her toast and doesn’t hug Catalina back when she says goodbye. She’s not even allowed to go into the playground before the bell rings- instead, she has to go into the headmistresses office because there are ‘special circumstances’ (although what these are she isn’t quite sure.)

Mrs Jardin says things about grief and loss and settling in. No comment seems to be required from her so she stays quiet until the bell releases her.

Anne walks into the classroom with a girl she hasn’t seen before who she thinks must be Anna. This girl- this new girl- gives Cathy a friendly smile, as if she isn’t stealing her best friend while her back is turned…. and she pretends not to see.

(She doesn’t know why she should smile at a friend stealer.)

It doesn’t feel right to sit in her old class, as if everything is the same….but then, a new teacher comes in to take the register and she doesn’t like that it’s different either.

Anne whispers that she’s nice, that she let them make get well soon cards for their usual teacher rather than having to do the usual Friday spelling test, and she thinks that of course that would make Anne like her.

(Unlike her, Anne does not enjoy the spelling test.)

There’s dinner money to hand in, then a boring assembly about road safety and looking both ways. There’s literacy hour, like usual; numeracy hour, like usual. No gold stars for anyone (although their old teacher always used to have them- this new teacher just does boring ticks in red pen)- and then a change: they’re going to make cards.

For Mothers day.

Which is in a week.

Suddenly, she feels very cold. Mothers day.

She doesn’t want to think about last year- daffodils picked from the garden, carrying a tray not-to-spill-carefully into the bedroom, being allowed to boil the kettle and make the toast herself, the picture that kept coming out wrong and the poem she wrote herself in place of it.

She wants Catalina to come- to take her home or even just to BE there… but then she remembers that Catalina has abandoned her, that she’s the one making her have to go to school at all.

(And besides, Catalina is at work now anyway, doing whatever she does at work. She pictures meetings and shouty phone calls and wavy lines in red on graph paper, like when she and Anne play office.) (She wonders what games Anne plays with Anna and decides they’re probably all boring anyway.)

The teacher finished explaining- about spelling and sharing the felt pens and taking turns with the glitter, as if they’re babies, as if they’ve never made cards before when everyone knows that even the Nursery school children make cards at Christmas and Easter….and she turns to her blank sheet of construction paper and wishes she could tear it up.

‘What are you going to do?’

Anne’s whisper catches her by surprise.

‘What do you mean?’

Anne looks uncomfortable. ‘Because- well-’

She understands what Anne means, all at once, and it’s like cold water being poured on her- of course she can’t make a card for mum because mum isn’t there to have it and she knows this, but this realisation still feels new and suddenly she’s thinking of all the other things she won’t ever be able to give mum or dad ever again, birthday presents and Christmas presents and-

Anne is almost quivering next to her, her hand waving high in the air, and Cathy just KNOWS what she’s going to ask- what about if you don’t have a Mum to make a card for?

She knows that’s what she’s going to ask, and it makes her so angry (angry that Anne is asking, angry that it’s a question that applies to her now, angry that Anne and everyone else get to still have parents, angry that they have to do this stupid project in the first place when everyone knows that it’s meant to be history workbooks after break) that she’s burning hot all over.

The teacher suddenly stops her monologue on the necessity of Putting Lids on Felt Tips, as if she’s heard the question through the waving of Anne’s hand, and she smiles like she’s swallowed a tin of golden syrup. Her voice is syrupy to match.

‘Of course, for anyone who doesn’t have a mother-’ She pauses. ‘What I mean is, if you’d like to make a card for someone else- maybe an auntie….well, that’s fine’.

She even looks at Cathy as she says it- but she doesn’t want to make a card for Catalina. She isn’t her auntie, she definitely isn’t her mum.

‘Because of course, you don’t have to be a mum to do mum-things!’

(Her mum wouldn’t have abandoned her at school, she thinks first….and then she wonders if maybe her mum has abandoned her after all- except worse and more forever. It’s not a nice thought to have.)

‘People can be your mum in spirit and that’s fine!’

(Does that mean Catalina has to take the place of her mum now?)

Part of her still wants Catalina to come and make things ok again (although she’s not sure how she would)- but part of her is angry too.

She’s angry with Catalina, for doing all the ‘mum-things’, angry with herself that she’s been letting her. (Can her own mum see her letting Catalina tuck her into bed and run her bath and hear her spellings? Would she be cross if she could?)

She feels more mixed up than ever, and it’s all Anne’s fault, it’s all Anne’s fault (for asking the question, for putting the thought into the stupid teacher’s head, for liking Anna better) and when the teacher turns her back (because someone has somehow broken their gluestick like an idiot), the anger bubbles up and she kicks Anne as hard as she can under the desk.

She’s not sure what she’s expecting- Anne to kick her back maybe, or to jump up and tell on her and get her into trouble, but instead Anne just bursts into tears.

Part of her wants to say sorry….but part of her thinks it serves Anne right for sitting next to stupid new Anna with her stupid shoes that light up and her stupid purse shaped like a dog. (They’re definitely not cool and she definitely isn’t going to ask for either for her birthday.)

Within seconds, the teacher is bearing down on them both.

‘What on earth do you think you’re doing, young lady?’ (She thinks spitefully that the teacher has probably forgotten her name already, something that their usual teacher would NEVER do.)

She just scowls back.

‘You’re going to say sorry to- your friend’ (Clearly she’s forgotten Anne’s name too) ‘-and then you’re going to sit and get on with your card nicely where I can see you-’

‘I don’t want to.’

She folds her arms and the teacher huffs.

‘This is NOT the sort of behaviour I expect from children in this year group! Imagine what your mother would-’

She says it and then freezes, her face going bright red- and it’s this freezing that makes it worse, like a big loud reminder that mum CAN’T see her, that she’ll never see her again, that the teacher has made a big mistake by mentioning it…. And there’s a roaring in her head as she picks up her paper, rips it into pieces and throws them into the woman’s face.

When the teacher tries to take her hand and pull her to the front of the room, she pulls away and pushes all her things- her pencils and pens, her rubber that smells like strawberries onto the floor and stamps on them and feels the crack of plastic under her school shoes- until a hand closes around her wrist and she’s dragged away and deposited into the corridor.

(She’s never been put out into the corridor before because that’s something that only the really bad children have happen to them, and she’s never been one of them….except she also never used to be the child without parents, she never used to want to make Anne hurt, so maybe now everything is different, it doesn’t matter what she does because nothing will make it better, and there’s nothing to do but scream and scream and scream.)

She’s acting crazy, not like herself at all- and the scary thing is, she can’t seem to stop, though her throat is raw and sore and her head is aching.

It hurts worse than when she had flu, and had to drink cups of lemon and honey and suck on horrible tasting lozenges (that didn’t taste anything like cherry no matter what the label said)...except when she had flu, she knes she’d get better but can you get better from something like this that isn’t an illness?

It frightens her that she can’t stop but then perhaps it doesn’t matter because everything is ruined anyhow, her parents are never coming back (she knows this, she knows this), all her pens are broken, everyone in her class saw her tear things up like a really bad kid and Anne will sit next to Anna forever and Catalina will be so angry with her…...she’ll be in so much trouble and what if Catalina doesn’t want her any more, what if she decides that she’s too much trouble because of this-

The thought has her curled up into herself, her face pressed against her drawn-up knees because it’s so scary, scarier than roller coasters and dogs that bark and the dark space under her bed, scarier than the little bit of a horror film that Anne’s sister showed them once when she slept over with the man that had knives for hands, scarier than anything-

The click click click of high heels sound down the hall- and it’s a new sound to hear at school because those aren’t the sort of shoes that the teachers or the dinner ladies wear, they’re not even the sort of shoes the big grown-up girls in Year 6 wear, she only knows one person who wears those sort of shoes-

‘Querida-’

When Catalina crouches down in front of her and puts a hand on her arm, part of her wants to cling onto her and make her promise to not ever leave ever ever- but another part of her tells her that she’s being stupi,d that of course her godmother won;t want her any more, that she’s probably just come into school to tell her that- and so she pushes the hand away roughly and won’t look up.

‘What’s the matter?’

She says nothing.

‘I can’t help if you don’t talk to me, carino.’

She doesn’t want to talk.

‘I need to make sure you are ok, querida. Can you tell me what made you so upset?’

She doesnt sound angry, she sounds like she always does- and it’s all wrong, she shouldn’t even be here, school shouldn’t be calling Catalina . No one else has their godparents called into school….cxcept of course they have to because there’s no one else, there’s no one else at all-

‘I hate you.’

She even means it. Perhaps if Catalina wasn’t around to fill in and do all the mum things, then mum would still be alive (because how could she have died if there was truly no one else?)

‘Why querida?’

‘It’s your fault. You should have died instead of mum.’

She means that too, but as she says it, she hides her face in her arms so she doesn’t have to see if Catalina looks cross or sad or (and this would somehow be worst of all) like she doesn’t even care.

(Not that she cares how Catalina feels. If she hadn’t ruined everything by making her come into school- if she hadn’t ruined everything by existing at all-)

She wonders, in the darkness of her arms, what will happen next- shouting (except Catalina doesn’t shout, apart from at traffic lights that change too quickly or spiders that come out of nowhere) or just the click-click-click of her heels leaving...but there’s nothing.

Nothing at all.

Just quiet.

It’s so quiet for so long that she wonders if perhaps Catalina has actually left after all- it would make sense for her to leave- and the thought gives her a little frisson of fear.

Despite everything….she doesn’t want to be all by herself. Not really.

She waits for a long, long time.

Eventually, she risks a glance up- steeling herself for the empty corridor.

But Catalina is still there, sitting on the wooden floor with her high shoes sitting next to her and the nail polish on her toes showing through her tights.

She doesn’t look cross, only very sad and tired…. but she makes her face into a smile when she sees she’s being watched and the relief- that she isn’t being shouted at or sent away or hated is enough to make her start to cry all over again.

She knows she’s probably ruined everything already by saying those things- and she can’t escape the feeling that she’s doing something wrong by wanting by wanting her godmother in the same way she used to want her mum (like she’s betraying her, like she’s making her sad in heaven)......but she’s so very tired and lonely, and Catalina looks so warm and safe and comforting that she reaches out to her without meaning to, half wondering if she’ll be pushed away.

She isn’t pushed away.

Warm hands gently draw her close until she’s being held safe in her godmothers arms, one hand stroking her damp tangled hair away from her hot face while she tries to burrow far into Catalina’s smart silk work shirt and stiff black blazer.

She knows she’s making them both wet and disgusting but she doesn’t care and Catalina doesn’t seem to mind either, just gently rocks her back and forth and murmurs things that must be in spanish but it doesn’t matter that she can’t understand, she just wants Catalina to keep holding her and keep talking because if she’s doing that, she can;t be planning on getting rid of her, at least not now, at least not yet-

‘I’m sorry, I’m sorry-’

‘Oh querida. It’s alright. It’s all going to alright.’

She should explain herself- that’s what adults always say ‘explain yourself’, but she doesn’t know if she can and when she tries, it comes out wrong and she starts hiccuping in between sobs.

‘Shhhh, carino. You don’t have to talk yet.’

She whimpers and presses her face back into Catalina’s chest and feels a kiss be pressed into her hairline.

‘It’s alright. We’ll sort this all out, I promise.’

She’d like to say that some things can’t be fixed- but she’s too tired. She actually doesn’t feel very well at all, and now she’s noticing it- not just the way her throat is sore, not just the being tired, she feels sick too, and her head aches and she’s shaking a bit all over like she has the flu except she doesn’t- but Catalina’s arms are warm and safe and so she makes herself just think about that, about that instead.

A long, long time passes before she feels like she can talk again- there’s a heaviness all up her arm and legs and in her head.

‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.’

‘It’s alright, querida. Do you want to tell me what happened? What made you so upset, hm?’

She doesn’t want to tell her at all but Catalina won’t be able to fix it if she doesn’t so she does her best- the Mother’s day card and Anne trying to ask her stupid question, Anne sitting with Anna instead of her, the daffodils last year, never being able to make another Mother’s day card again, the way the teacher looked at her, the anger and Anne crying at being kicked and all her own pens being broken.

Catalina listens and nods seriously and doesn’t interrupt, even though Cathy knows it’s a bit jumbled and she has to keep stopping every so often to sniffle into the tissues Catalina hands to her from the little packet in her purse.

When she finishes, Catalina nods slowly, like she’s working it all out in her head.

‘That is….quite a lot, querida.’

It actually makes her feel a (tiny) bit better, that Catalina doesn’t laugh or tell her she’s making a fuss about nothing…..but she knows what it also means- it isn’t all going to be fixed right away. Perhaps Catalina can see she’s disappointed because she squeezes her hand.

‘Would you like to hear my thoughts so far?’

She would.

‘I think your parents loved you very, very much. And that if they can see you, they will be thinking how very proud they are that you have been so brave and done so well, even without them there. I think they’d be proud to see how well you’re coping with having to live in a new place and do things differently.’

‘You don’t think they’d….mind? Do you think they’d be upset that I- about today?’

It hurts to ask but she wants to be sure.

Catalina shakes her head.

‘I think that you are having to work through a lot of things that are difficult. Very, very difficult. There is no easy way to lose people. And sometimes it will make you sad, and sometimes it will make you angry….like today-’

There’s a tiny lightening in her stomach at Catalina says that. She doesn’t feel better exactly...but it helps to know that perhaps she isn’t a really bad person after all. That it’s not badness, just grief. That maybe it’s even a bit normal.

‘Does everyone…..feel like this?’

Catalina looks down at her. ‘In one way or another….yes.’

‘Do you?’

‘Sometimes...yes.’

The thought makes her eyes go wide. She tries to imagine Catalina throwing pens on the floor of her smart office and it’s almost enough to make her smile again. Almost.

‘It doesn’t make you bad, it just part of grieving, carino- the hurting’ She pauses. ‘Not that you don’t need to try and make sure you don’t hurt other people too of course. I think perhaps you owe Anne an apology, hm?’

She shrugs and burrows back against the blazer and it feels cold and damp. ‘I don’t think she even wants to be my friend anymore-’

‘I can’t believe that, querida.’

‘It’s true. She has Anna now.’

‘Well’ Catalina changes position, stretching a cramped leg. ‘Why don’t you ask her?’

She isn’t sure what she means- and then Catalina gives her a tiny nudge and she looks up to see Anne’s face peering anxiously through the pane of glass in the classroom door. When she sees Cathy looking back at her, she looks enormously relieved- before she stops herself and makes a silly exaggerated cross face instead and mimes hopping up and down in pain.

Cathy finds she’s laughing in spite of herself- and Anne laughs too and sticks out her tongue, before a summons from inside drags her reluctantly away from the door.

‘Seems like she still wants to be friends to me.’

And she thinks perhaps Catalina is right.

Perhaps things aren’t as broken as she thought.

(Perhaps she can live with Catalina and let her do the mum-things that her own mum isn’t around for, but also keep thinking of mum-as-mum in her head. Perhaps she doesn’t have to feel guilty for doing normal things- perhaps she can feel proud. Perhaps things will work out mostly alright- not as alright as they’d have been if mum and dad were still alive but….close. Close enough.)

(Perhaps she’ll even ask Anna if she wants to play one day.)

(Perhaps.)

#six #six the musical #six the musical fanfiction #six fanfiction #sixfic

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amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 4 years

Text

Betty//...you

Request: Do you write for Betty? If so can i request a reader/betty where you do the same thing with your nails that she does, you both end up comforting each other/helping each other through it?

Monday morning, first period. English with Mr Johnson meaning we’ll be reading some of Romeo and Juliet and then answering some questions about it. Hopefully I’ll be left alone. Hopefully Mr Johnson will be hungover from the previous night of drunken marking so he’ll leave us all alone to sit and read in silence.

I’m one of the first people to arrive which means my usual seat at the back is free. I take the books that I need from my bag, as well as a pen before sitting down and looking at the clock. Soon people begin to file into the room and it starts to fill up. Betty Copper sits beside me and she gives me a warm smile before getting her stuff out.

“Did you have a nice weekend?” She asks and I nod, giving her a polite smile.

“You?” I ask and she nods.

“Yeah. Me and Archie hung out on Friday and then on Saturday me and Ronnie went shopping. But Sunday I just stayed in and did homework, caught up on some TV shows that I’d missed during the week.” She explains and her eyes shine as she talks. I smile and nod along, however I can’t hear anything. I’m too distracted at the way her hands move when she’s excited about something, and the way her smile grows the more she talks.

Betty Copper is one of the few people outside of my friendship group that I actually enjoy talking too. We share the majority of classes and she only lives a few doors down from me so we occasionally see each other around.

I also happen to be in love with her. I don’t know when it happened or how, but somehow, slowly but surely, I fell for her. And I fell hard. So hard that whenever she smiles at me I feel the air being knocked from my lungs and if she talks to me, I’m a stuttering, blushing mess.

“Miss Cooper, Miss Y/l/n?” Mr Johnson’s loud voice interrupts my train of thought and my eyes widen as the two of us look at him. “Care to share with the class what you thought was so important that you had to interrupt and talk over me?” He says and I feel my mouth go dry as the entirely of the class is staring at me. The two of us shake our heads and I can hear the quiet laughter from a few of the bitchier classmates. “Good.” He says before moving on with the class. I sink in the uncomfortable plastic chairs and my face goes bright red. “For the interruption you can start the reading off Miss Y//l/n.” He says with a sly smile and I feel like I’m gonna faint.

“I-er, I.” I stutter and he looks at me bored.

“We haven’t got all day.” He sighs and my nails dig into palms.

“I’ll do it.” Betty says quickly and I stare at her confused. “I was technically the one talking to her, she didn’t really say much.”

“Whatever.” He says and waves his arm for her to start.

“Thank you.” I whisper and she nods in response before staring to read the chapter. My face is still burning but now its not only due to Mr Johnson. I can feel myself falling for her harder, if thats even possible and I steal glances at her as she reads to the class. Her eyes darting across the page as she speaks, her voice as sweet as honey and I can tell that’s she’s probably already read this. She could make any piece of literature sound exciting and I would happily sit and listen to her read every single piece.

-----

Thursday afternoon, lunchtime. I stand at my locker, having just eaten lunch when there’s shouting coming from down the corridor. My finger nails instantly dig into my palm and I squeeze my eyes shut, however Betty’s voice makes me snap my eyes back open.

“What the hell?” Betty’s usually sweet voice has an edge to it. Its not how she normally speaks, like she’s literal sunshine. She’s angry at someone. “Again, what the hell?!” She shouts louder. She’s stood in front of Cheryl, both of their arms are crossed and I furrow my eyebrows at the sight.

“Betty, why are you so mad. It was only a matter of time before people found out. Plus we’re living in the 21st century, get over it.” She says bored.

“I’m mad because it’s not your choice when I’m ready! I haven’t told my mom yet! I told Veronica that in private, when I didn’t think anyone else was around and listening. Now the whole school knows and believe it or not, not a lot of people are that accepting, especially here in Riverdale!” She shouts, her voice wobbling and I can tell she’s close to tears. My heart breaks at the thought of her being upset and I make my way towards her. Nobody else seems to be doing anything. I slowly walk towards her as she continues to shout at Cheryl. Her arms drop by hers sides at one point and I see her press her fingernails into her palms, the same way that I do and my heart breaks even more.

“Betty?” My voice is unsure as I place a hand on her shoulder and she turns around quickly. Cheryl smirks at the two of us before walking past, shoving Betty slightly. “Are you okay?”

“Do I look okay!?” She asks annoyed and I move back a bit, dropping my head to look at the floor. The nails on my free hand dig into my palm again when I notice everyone is still staring, however I push the fear away.

“Come on, lets go find Veronica or someone.” I say, guiding her away from the busy corridor. “Here.” I say and hand her a tissue. “Don’t worry, its clean, its just been in my bag.” I say and she takes it, giving me a grateful nod before wiping her tears. “Whatever’s Cheryl said will be forgotten about by tomorrow. She’ll have something else to talk about.”

“I don’t think so.” She sighs. “What she heard was pretty big.”

“Well then she’ll be taking about it for at most a week then.” I nudge her shoulder softly and she giggles. I did that!! My mind goes crazy at the fact that I made her laugh. But then I’m brought back to reality by her talking again, the sad tone in her voice bringing me back to the ground.

“I hope so.” She sighs. “My mom’s gonna kill me if she finds out.”

“I’m sure she won’t. Your mom is awesome.” I try to reassure her.

“Yeah, but she’ll be mad I didn’t tell her.” She sighs.

“She might be, but whatever it is, she’ll understand that you weren’t ready to tell her.” I say and she shrugs.

“I suppose so.”

“My mom was the same. When I told my dad I liked girls she was pissed because I didn’t tell her first, but when I explained to her that I found it easier telling my dad first she was fine. She said she still loved me and that she understood.” I explain and she stares at me wide-eyed, stopping in the middle of the corridor. “What?”

“You like girls?” She asks and my cheeks heat up.

“Oh...yeah.” I laugh nervously. “You’re the only other person I’ve told apart from my parents.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I promise.” She reassures me and I smile gratefully.

“Thanks.”

“No worries.” She shrugs and we start walking again. “Hey Y/n?” She asks and I nod my head. “I’m ga-”

“Oh my god, Betty! Are you okay?” Veronica shouts and she sprints down the corridor. Betty nods and I move to the side so Veronica can hug her friend.

“I’ll see you around Betty.” I say and wave awkwardly before walking away. Veronica sends Betty a teasing glance as I walk away, however I miss it and Betty rolls her eyes.

------

Friday night, 7:03pm.

Sitting at Pop’s is not what I usually do on a Friday night, well not alone. But my other friends have gone to a party and I would rather stick forks in my eyes then go. My nails would go through my palm if I went to a high school party, so Pop’s it is.

“You should really stop doing that with your nails” A familiar voice says and my gaze drifts from my drink to the girl stood in front of me. Betty’s smiling down at me, a milkshake in hand as she looks at the seat opposite me.

“You’re one to talk.” I reply and un-clench my hand.

“I suppose so.” She laughs and sits opposite me. “I can sit here right?” She asks and I nod.

“My mom says that whenever I feel like doing the nail thing, I should think about something/someone that makes me feel calm.” I say and she thinks about it for a moment. “I know it sounds stupid but it works for me the majority of the time.” I add.

“Yeah, I get that.”

“The only time it doesn’t work is when I’m really anxious.”

“Well, I’ll try it anyway. What do you think of?” She asks and I pause.

You...“The rain.” I say and she nods, while she thinks.

“Yeah, I can see that working. I’d probably think of puppies or something else cute.” She says and I laugh, the two of us make eye contact for a few seconds before I look away.

“How long have you been doing it for?” I ask.

“For as long as I can remember really.” She sighs. “You?”

“Since I was about 9, I think. I used to make myself bleed when I was younger because I didn’t really notice how hard I was doing it. I still sometimes do, but thats only when its really bad, or if I’ve got my eyes closed at the same time...” I trail off and she nods.

“Yeah...same. I think I’ve probably got scars.” She says and holds her palm out in front of her. I do the same and she looks at my hand, her fingers softly graze the small white scars and my heart rate quickens. “We’ll be okay.” She says and quickly takes her hand away. “I promise.” She says, sending me a bright smile and for the first time in my entire life, I actually believe that. “Why are you here all alone?” She asks and I shrug.

“Parties aren’t really my thing.” I reply and she nods. “What about you? I assumed you would have been at the party.”

“Eh.” She shrugs. “I’m trying to lay low for a while after what Cheryl said.

“I get that.” I nod my head in agreement and take a sip of my drink. She smiles at me and my heart momentarily stops. As soon as she looks back up at me, I can’t hold back a giggle and she quirks an eyebrow at me.

“What?” She asks.

“You have a bit of cream on your nose.” I say and she blushes lightly before wiping it away.

“Oh.” She laughs and I smile at her.

“So, what are your plans for the weekend?” I ask, changing the subject.

“Probably shopping again tomorrow. V wants a new dress for a family party next weekend.” She replies and I nod. “You can err, you can come with us if you want?” She asks hesitantly and I look at her surprised.

“Seriously?” I ask and she nods shyly.

“If you want, yeah.”

“Yeah!” I say, maybe a bit more enthusiastically than I intend to, but she doesn’t seem put off, she seems pleased. “I’d love to!”

“Great, I’ll pick you up tomorrow. Around 11?” She asks and I nod.

“Yeah! Great, I’m looking forward to it!” I say and she smiles. A comfortable silence settles around us before I start to speak again. “Did you tell your mom the thing that you were worried about?”

“Errr.” She says and suddenly the atmosphere changes.

“Sorry.” I say quickly. “I shouldn’t have asked, its none of my business. Sorry.” I apologize and she shakes her head, grabbing my hand gently in hers. We make eye contact for a split second before I look at the table.

“I did talk to her about it. She was a bit confused at first but she understands why I didn’t tell her straight away and now I think we’re closer than we’ve ever been.” She explains.

“Good ol’ Mrs Copper.” I tease and she laughs.

“Exactly.” She replies and the two of us laugh. “It was kind of weird at first though. I mean I’d only ever told one other person and that was Veronica so saying it out loud to my mom made it real in a weird way. Especially when she asked me if there was anyone that I liked and I said yes.” She rambles and I look at her confused. I stare at her for a few seconds as she talks, the sweet feeling that I usually have when she talks is being soured by the thought that she likes someone, and also by the fact that I’m confused as hell.

“Im sorry.” I interrupt. “What exactly are you talking about?”

“Oh right.” She laughs. “I gave you no context. I always do that, my mom tells me its one of my worst habits, well that and the nail thing.” She says making me smile. “The thing that Cheryl overheard was me telling Veronica that I liked girls.” She said, making me choke on my drink.

“Wha-oh. Okay.” I nod and she hides a giggle. “I’m glad she was accepting.”

“Me too!” She replies with a bright smile. “I told Veronica that I liked a girl and thats how Cheryl found out.” She continues and my face drops, however, I quickly try and recover, forcing a smile on my face.

“Oh.” I say awkwardly. “Who is it? Do I know them?”

“Are you saying all gay girls know each other?” She asks in a teasing voice making me laugh.

“Yes.” I nod and she shrugs.

“Yeah, true. In this case you do know her.”

“Oh.” I say, unsure of what to say next. “Who is it?”

“...you.” She says, her voice barely above a whisper, but I heard it and my heart stops. My mouth goes dry again like in Mr Johnson’s class, but this time its for all the right reasons.

“Me?” I ask and she nods slowly, she’s staring at me trying to figure out my reaction. “I, err, I. Wow.” I breathe and she looks at me confused. “I like you too.” I admit. “Have done for a while.” I add and the hesitant look is replaced with a bright smile.

“Okay.” She says, unsure of what to say next. “Would you maybe like to be my girlfriend? Or we can just go on a date if you want.”

“Yes.”

“Yes to what? Girlfriend or date?” She asks confused and I giggle.

“Girlfriend.” I say. “If thats what you want.”

“I’ve never wanted anything more.” She says and leans in slowly. I meet her half way until her lips are on mine. They’re soft and gentle and there’s a hint of strawberry from the milkshake. She kisses me slowly, savoring every moment until she pulls away, breathlessly and we giggle at each other. “Having you by my side isn’t going to fix all of my problems, but it’s certainly gonna help. Especially if you’re holding my hand.”

#betty cooper #betty cooper imagine #betty cooper x reader #betty cooper x you #betty cooper x y/n #riverdale #riverdale imagine

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thatguyniles · 4 years

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Blog Post #1

Out of all the films we had to watch, Mid 90’s was the most interesting to me. I’m interested in learning to skate and the retro look has always been cool to me. It was also one of the only films to hold my full attention to the point where I rewatched scenes for my own pleasure. Long story short this movie is lit. One of the characters I most identified with would be Ray.

In the skate shop, Ray explains how it is being black because Fourth Grade asks if it’s cool. Spoiler it’s pretty cool not gonna lie. Ray gives an example that I wasn’t expecting from the movie. He says when they skate in Beverly Hills, they already get looked at some type of way and people say they’re vandalizing and stuff, but it feels like it comes down harder on him. After hearing him say that it was apparent that I would probably relate to him the most since i’m a young black man, and have also felt that some instances the consequences are harder for myself.

When Ruben is explaining to Stevie everyone's nicknames, he says that Ray doesn’t need one because he’s cool without one. I feel a similar way about nicknames. I don’t need a nickname to feel different or cooler because A) I’m already cool, and B) I feel like my name is cool and having a nickname would take away from who I am. Stevie also says that ray is cooler without a nickname. Ray’s friends obviously see him in a positive light, which is the same with mine (I hope). They’ve told me I’m a cool dude, even though I don’t see anything I do that makes me seem any cooler than the average guy. If I had to take a guess It’s probably how I carry myself, like Ray I come off as a chill, laid back kinda guy and I also have a knack for clowning on people. We both also question authority, whether it be demands or rules that are set in place.

When Ray and his squad are posted up on the steps of a school, a security guard walks up and tells them that they gotta skidaddle before they get their asses beat. Of course in classic teen fashion they say no and start roasting his ass lmao. Ray and the guard get into an F-you match and Ray says “you smokin cigarettes on school property” and the guard says Jesus smokes cigarettes. Ray immediately claps back with “what kinda cigarettes he smoke”. The guard, caught off guard (pun intended) stumbles over his words and storms off. Long story short I’m a smart ass.

There are three common themes in the films we watched and they are, drugs, acceptance and alcohol. In Mid 90’s Stevie smokes cigarettes with Ruben because he wants to fit in. Ruben saying he should be more like him because he smokes, skates, and dips his pen in someone else’s ink *wink*probably gave Stevie more incentive to try and fit in within the group of skaters especially since it appears that Stevie is younger than Ruben is. In KIDS Telly steals a 40 and drinks it throughout the next scene. Later Telly is offered Whip its in one of his homeboys crib and does one, immediately feeling the high. Back to Mid 90’s, Fuck Shit gives Ruben and Stevie some of his ADD medication, much to the dislike of Ray. In the next scene the group goes to a party and Stevie is seen smoking weed with a girl he met that night. These themes are relatable to youth culture because teens and young adults are at a vulnerable point socially in life.

Teens usually try to fit into groups that they see as popular or successful at that point in time.They try to feel accepted because they themselves are unsure of what they want to do or who they are. Humans are social creatures so not fitting in any group hits us hard mentally.

Now the part I’ve been looking forward to the most, a new soundtrack for Mid 90’s! I’m about to give you the greatest soundtrack ever just so you know.

The first song I thought of was “There They Go”, a South african rapper named Nasty C. This song in my opinion fits well in the scene where everyone is skating at the courthouse and the police arrive. Everyone scatters and I think the name of the song fits the situation well. The song just sounds like good chase music to me.

Next is “Dr Birds”, by rap collective Griselda. This song fits more as an instrumental in the scene where Fuck Shit accidently hits Stevie’s older brother with his board during a trick. The two then stand face to face and Fuck Shit punks him making him walk off. The song gives off a standoff vibe and has a bell sound that reminds me of the standoffs from Dragonball Z right before a fight.

“Fubu” by rapper Royce Da 5’9” featuring Conway the machine comes to mind as soon as I saw the party scene. The song is from Royce’s album “The Allegory”, and like always he come with bars. The beat gives off a mischievous and sneaky vibe that I think would go along well with the low lit lighting and the weed they smoke since obviously they wouldn’t want anyone to know what’s happening here.

“Wish You Well” by rapper Amir Obe would fit perfectly during the scene when Stevie comes home high off the drugs he took before and after the party and runs from his brother around the house. The song has an intensity that isn’t too overpowering for the scene, even if only the beat is used.

“Kingdom Come” by Raury played in the back of my head when Ruben and Stevie were talking about nicknames. The song reminds me of togetherness with its calm mood and slower tempo. I think it works well when characters are connecting or expanding their relationship between one another.

“I’m Good Luv, Enjoy” by rapper Aaron May is a song I personally love to cruise to, so it’s only fitting I have it play during the scene when the group of skaters (and Stevie) are riding their boards down the street after Ray suggest they go skateboarding at the skate shop. The song would continue to play during the security guard interaction. The song has a good bounce along with the lyrics “I ain’t got time for you, get up out my face” work well because Ray gets in the guards face and clowns him which makes him leave. It reminds me of high school when me and my friends would crack jokes on the security guard at lunch.

“PTSD” by rap label Dreamville is a much better song to play when Ray and Stevie skate after his mother tells him he can’t hang with the skaters anymore. After his mom does her motherly duty Ray and Stevie have a heart to heart, and ray opens up about his younger brother who passed away. The song that actually plays during this scene is ass I’m not gonna lie. They needed to have me select the songs, Jonah Hill should cut me a check I’m just saying.

“Almeda” by Solonge is more of a joke selection. Don’t get me wrong the song is good, but if it were to play when Stevie downs a 40, that would be hilarious! Think about it as Steve chugs the bottle Solonge goes “pour my drank, sip, sip, sip,” lmao pure gold right there.

“Y U DON’T LOVE ME (MISS AMERIKKKA)” by Joey Bada$$ would play a little after Stevie gets drunk to Solonge. A lot happens in this scene and the trippy sound the beat has would complement Stevie and his impaired state especially when he gets into a fight with Ruben at a skatepark.

The final song I couldn’t decide between “It Ain’t Hard to Tell” by Nas, or “93 ‘Till Infinity” by Souls Of Mischief. These songs would play during Fourth Grade’s movie he was filming throughout the whole movie. The song that plays in the movie is an old school hip hop record, so I figured why not keep the similar sound, especially since he named the film wait for it….Mid 90’s.

You probably want to listen to this marvelous and swaggy soundtrack, oh what’s this a link to the soundtrack where did that come from. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0eFLRkG3KEgyMbWTGcJefn?si=RBLAKIsrTFqDLrsaLG_PSQ

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evak-fic-rec-turtleanon · 4 years

Text

Evak Fics - Co-Workers

A list for coworkers/colleagues. Includes fics where they are not exactly colleagues or coworkers but related to them working together in a way.

No Flirting in the Science Lab by smilexdarling (728 words) - Isak and Even fall in love at school, but this time, they're the teachers.

sweet creature by Skamtrash (1k words) - Along the lines of "We’re both baristas and sometimes I have trouble reaching for things and I show up to work one day to find a personalized stool with hearts and my name on it i hATE YOU but also thanks"

Pumpkin King by i_once_wrote_a_dream (1.7k words) - Isak grins, and taps the crown. “You’re the dumbest king I’ve ever met.” They work on a pumpkin patch.

White Elephant by HazyCosmicJive (1.8k words) - Vilde turns the office Secret Santa into a White Elephant Secret Santa.

stuck on you (what did i do?) by itjustkindahappened (1.8k words) - a teacher AU with zero teaching and a lot of crushing.

settle down by allyasavedtheday: Chapter 21 Model Au (2.5k words) - Isak was not prepared for a partner at this photoshoot. Chapter 35 Model Au Part 2 (1.9k words) - Prompt fill for where they’re doing like a couples photoshoot or something with Mikael and now they can’t stop kissing each other and everyone’s too endeared to be frustrated with them

in sickness and in health by wyoheartsmusic (2k words) - Emma is crushing on her teacher until she finds out he's very much in love with his husband. So this is in Emma's pov.

love doctor by princevaltersen (2.3k words) - “Looking through Tinder and rating guys in the paediatric unit is definitely something that you shouldn’t be doing at work.” Doctor au.

Email from Somewhere by wyoheartsmusic (2.4k words) - Isak gets an email from no one. He asks Even for help.

Did you hear oxygen and magnesium got together? OMg by sugarbeat24 (2.5k words) - Isak and Even are chemistry partners. Fluff and chemistry jokes ensue. They are not co-workers but this is cute.

Colleagues? - SKAM Fic Week Day 5 by glbertblythes (2.6k words) - Isak and Even have been work colleagues for three years - a couple for two - and they like to call the office their "second home" for multiple reasons.

It Only Takes a Taste (When You Know It's Good) by shakespeareandsunshine (2.8k words) - It would be bad enough if it was just some mystery coworker stealing meals from the office fridge. Then Isak could hate their anonymous ass in peace. But no, Isak has a very good idea who the culprit is. And seeing the villain in the breakroom every day, smiling at Isak like he has nothing to apologize for was testing Isak's very limited patience. And also probably his self-control, although for an entirely different reason.

I Don't Date Cops by jinglebin (2.9k words) - Isak gets a new colleague and he's instantly smitten. Until said collegue tells him he doesn't date cops. b99 au

just a little bit out of my limit by theyellowcurtains (3k words) - Isak is pissed about where he got placed for work experience, that is until he meets his fine ass supervisor.

Pictures of You by MacksDramaticShenanigans (3.2k words) - The au where Even is a photographer and Isak is his infuriatingly gorgeous model

Can't We Be Sweethearts? by HazyCosmicJive (3.3k words) - in which Isak and Even work at a summer carnival together

EVEN by LiliMane (3.5k words) - A friends with benefits or kinda of an enemies with benefits type of situation. 'Whatever. People come and go. Sometimes they don't come at all. Sometimes they only send you money. And the ones that come don't stay too long. But that's how it is and there's nothing I can do about it. Not that I want to do anything about it.'

Adrian and Markus by ufologies (3.9k words) - Isak and Even go undercover on a case that unexpectedly ends up bringing them closer together.

i bet my life on you by janesargnt (4.8k words) - “Ok, so it’s settled then,” said Elias, getting to his feet. “If Bech Nӕsheim loses, he has to give Valtersen his car. If Valtersen loses, he has to go on a date in said car.” B99 au.

from my lips my sin is purged by slvtherxn (4.8k words) - After Even's last relationship with his coworker ended quite messily, his boss has forbidden him from dating any more of her employees. It takes him ten seconds alone with his new trainee before he decides to date him in secret.

Fuck Tha Police by MacksDramaticShenanigans (5.2k words) - “This,” Eskild said, spinning the photograph around so everyone could see it, “is a picture of the latest piece of vandalism from our favorite little street punk.” he finished with a heavy sigh. They are both cops.

Thank You for Flying Norwegian Air! by orphan_account (5.4k words) - Isak and Even are both flight attendants who definitely don't have feelings for each other.

Don't worry, I've got you by everything_else (5.7k words) - Isak gets a job at a coffee shop.

18 Secret Santa Horror Stories That'll Turn Anyone Into A Grinch by GayaIsANerd (6.1k words) - Some secret Santa, some unfortunate google results, a whole lot of complaining and a heart full of gratitude. They work for a website that is like a Norwegian Buzzfeed but different.

i tried to be strong but i lost it (i knew it was wrong, i’m beyond it) by orphan_account (6.3k words) - Even has a thing for his intern, Isak has a thing for his boss, they're both a bit clueless and their friends just want them to get their shit together.

Crying Over Spilt Milk by MacksDramaticShenanigans (8.4k words) - The boys get their hands on Isak’s resume; Isak gets his hands on Even. Coffee shop.

my heart held a ledger by cynical_optimist, strangetowns (8.6k words) - A hitmen AU, wherein Isak and Even hate their jobs but love each other. This 'verse is now on permanent hiatus but it can still be enjoyed as a standalone oneshot.

Unclassified by bri_ness (9.7k words) - "Separate fiction from fact, romances from tragedies, the stories you want to experience from the ones you’d rather ignore." Isak and Even flirt in a library while having some deep thoughts about cataloging.

Merry Kiss My Ass (under the mistletoe) by TheGirlNoOneKnows5 (9.8k words) - Working in retail during the holiday season is a nightmare. Especially when Isak has to work right alongside his just friend and not at all crush, Even. Among freaky customers, secret santa presents and constant reminders of his one night of passion with Even, Isak doesnt know if he'll make it to the new year. If only he could figure out who was behind all the random mistletoes he keeps finding...

Is This What You Wanted? by cuteandtwisted (9.9k words) - Isak is filthy rich and Even is a hardworking male model who just got signed to his father's agency. Even gets an awful offer from Isak: one night with him in exchange for money, and begins to despise him. Little does he know that everything he thinks he knows about Isak is wrong.

sweeter than wine, softer than a summer's night by dewdrops (12k words) - Isak and Even work at an amusement park.

Valtersen's Anatomy by evak1isak (12k words) - Isak Valtersen, a nurse intern, happens to fall in love with one of the new interns, Even Bech Næsheim, from the mental health team.

when your heart is bleeding, i'm coming to get you by cosetties (13k words) - Isak doesn't exactly expect his hookup from last week to be the love advice columnist at the school newspaper he's working at. He also doesn't expect to fall even harder for him than he already has, which is a shame, really, since Even's crushing on someone else.

Ground Me by Bellakitse (13k words) - In which despite his father helping with rent, Isak still needs money and therefore a job. Isak gets a job at a cafe and meets a barista who's beauty blows Isak away.

i broke the world for us by cuteandtwisted (16k words) - Isak is 'heartless', young, busy, addicted to work, and incapable of committing. And Even is a repairman who fixes things around the office, who sees right through his smokescreen, and who might end up 'fixing' Isak's cold heart.

turn my blue heart to red by allyasavedtheday (16k words) - “Did I scare you?” Even asks teasingly, waggling his eyebrows as he leans casually against the counter beside Isak. “Never,” Isak scoffs, sending a fierce scowl in Jonas’ direction when he catches him smirking at them both. Jonas is under the ridiculous impression he and Even have a crush on each other which is not true. Doctor au.

I Just Want You For My Own by Twinklylightseverywhere (19k words) - Even loves the holidays, really. He loves spending time with his friends and family, drinking hot chocolate by the fire, exchanging gifts, the like. You know what he doesn’t love about Christmas time? Working in a fucking Post Office.

Taste by MermaidsandMermen (SophiaSoames) (21k words) - Isak Valtersen doesn't do feelings. He doesn't do relationships. He's a good boss, and he knows his shit. Then that asshat Naesheim swans in like he owns the bloody place and Isak's carefully managed world starts to fall apart. He's impulsive and stupid and childish and probably the last person in the world who should be allowed to run the Food and Beverage department at the Radisson Blu, however many brilliant ideas he has and seems to manage to miraculously pull off. It's a match made in hell. Enemies to lovers.

Dear Friend by bri_ness (26k words) - Isak and Even work together in a failing video store, and they cannot stand each other. Isak and Even both signed up for the Love Letters dating service, and they’re both falling for their anonymous pen pal.

is it gravity, or are we falling in love? by mels (28k words) - Isak works at a coffee shop. There's two things he loves about the morning shift: 1, how beautiful the city is when it's sleeping and 2, avoiding the hot guy who he happens to have a crush on. Until one faithful day, he has no choice but to work with his crush.

A Fucking Bet by Crazyheart (32k words) - Isak and Even are just friends. They make a bet and decide to fuck only five times and then go back to being friends again. Isak hopes that he might be able to fuck his crush out of his system, once and for all. Who knows what Even’s motives are. They work at KB

We Don't Need to Whisper by staylucky (34k words) - Isak Valtersen is a new teacher at Bekkulaget with an embarrassing crush on the Head of Upper Juniors, Even Bech Naesheim. His mentor, Christoffer, is constantly winding him up and Isak's beginning to doubt if teaching is for him.

(WIP) Magic Eight Ball by folerdetdufoler (35k words) - Last update Dec 2019. His cubicle is in the bullpen, but at the edge, across from the offices along one wall. When the Chief makes his announcements Isak stands near the middle, leaning against someone else’s cube, reading emails on his phone instead of paying attention. This time, though, the Chief is introducing some new hires to the office: a sports editor, a city editor, and a marketing head. When Isak looks up to finally acknowledge the new team members, he gets a good look at the guy who is going to make his life a living hell.

Blind by evak1isak (44k words) - Isak has sex in a dark room with a random stranger, but he only hears his voice. He hears that voice again: it's his new boss', one of Norway's richest men.

(WIP) Medically Speaking by Ms_Tassimo (44k words) - Last update Aug 2019. Working as a hospital porter was not how Even Bech Næsheim saw his life ending up. But here he was; mopping up sick after a stupid mistake. However, the hot doctor with the nice smell? That just about makes up for it. Too bad Dr Valtersen seems like a bit of an asshole with a hell of a chip on his shoulder.

I'll Be Coming Home, Wait For Me by dahlstrom (47k words) - The diner AU. Even and Yousef open a 1950s American-style restaurant together - Even is the creative genius in the kitchen, Yousef keeps the trains running on time, and Isak, Chris B, and Magnus are all along for the ride. Falling in love over food while Elvis serenades from the jukebox. Welcome to the Throwback Diner.

such a beautiful mess by skambition (48k words) - Isak works at Kaffebrenneriet to save up some money for a trip with his friends. Normally, working there is chill. Until Isak starts to work together with Even, an arrogant hipster with horrible taste in music, that keeps using the phrase 'sex hair' and is not only judgemental and stupid, but also so hot that Isak sometimes can't breathe around him.

On call by MinilocIsland (49k words) - Isak knows what he's meant to do in life - surgery. And he can't wait to show everyone that he's good at it. That is, if he'll ever get a goddamn chance. Not getting hindered by ridiculous, charming guys whose main advantage in the operating room simply is the length of their legs. Or - a hospital AU, with both Isak and Even as intern physicians.

Around the Corner (My Very Personal Christmas Shopper) by Crazyheart (51k words) - Isak (22) works in a record shop for Jonas. Isak’s best colleague and friend is Eva, who works in the shop, too. Isak is still in the closet. He says things as he thinks, though. Doesn't like snowglobes. Even (24) comes and asks for a job. The two get off on the wrong foot, although Isak finds Even irritatingly attractive. Additionally, Isak has just gotten a personal Christmas gift shopper.

Masquerade by Sabeley (53k words) - Isak and Even were best friends before one botched mission tore them apart. When they are assigned to go undercover as newlyweds at an oceanside resort where couples are going missing, can they put their differences aside for long enough to solve the case? And can they fix what’s broken between them before it’s too late?

(WIP) and it falls just where it needs to be by mmxii (53k words) - Last update Aug 2018. An au where isak works at a campsite and there’s suddenly a new guy joining their team. featuring a completely chill isak, a suspiciously quiet cat, and a three-year-old asking way too many difficult questions.

Caught in the Crossfire by CrochetingWords (65k words) - AU where Isak and Sana are partners working for the Oslo police department. Even used to work for the Oslo PD and is now Oslo's most well known private detective assisting the department in cases while also blogging about them. Isak is not impressed when he shows up on one of his crime scenes, because what other reason is there to publicly blog about your cases than being fame hungry.

(WIP) a careful hypothesis of the heart by StMisery (87k words) - 12/13 chapters posted. Isak and Even don't start out on the best of terms. Isak had been waiting nearly a year for the position of researcher to open up again. If he got it, he'd be working his dream job within one of the best biotechnology companies in the world. He applied for the position, heart in his throat, only to be passed over for the new recruit. When he discovered the new hire was also the son of the CEO, well, that was an unforgivable offense.

You Don't Even Know Me! by cuteandtwisted (101k words) - The one in which Isak and Even are interns who got off the wrong foot and don't like each other at all (except that they do).

#evak fic rec #skam fic rec #coworkers #colleauges #office au #let me know what fics i'm missing please

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bluebellhairpin · 5 years

Text

Unbeatable Rivalry

Harry Hook X Reader

A/N: First Harry Hook request. This boy needs more love too. - Nemo

Request: #9 for Harry hook from the dialogue starter thing please :) And I would love to be tagged in it once it gets posted - @fangirl--of-everything

Prompt: 9. “This is a lot harder than it looks and I don’t think you realise it.”

Summary: You and Harry have been at it since he got to Auradon. He never let a day go by without annoying you, and you never let the sun set without telling him how unbearable he was. But things change. Who would’ve guessed it started with another bad day?

Masterlist

The newest VK’s were giving Auradon hell.

They were troublemakers, clowns, silver-tongues, devils. Or at least Harry Hook was.

He never let up trying to harass you until you had to get up and leave. Your mother raised you to have self-control like a royal should, and your father taught you to do good even if it meant doing something society believed to be bad; but this pirate, this boy kept testing and pushing what you learnt. You knew you were going to end up breaking, and doing something even your father would agree to be bad.

He was there wherever you went, lurking in your peripheral vision and shooting that damn same smile every time you caught him staring.

It made your heart beat faster and your mind grow hazy and you didn’t know why.

One rainy day, when tourney practice outside was traded up for training drills inside, Harry and his insistent annoyance to your existence simply became a problem on a growing list.

You were already on a warpath by the end of the school day; the new tourney practice had interrupted your own fencing session, a bozo in the hallway knocked you to the ground and had the audacity to not stay and help you, and your parents had given you the news that morning that they wouldn’t be able to make it to come visit you the upcoming holidays because they decided to visit their old home instead.

Needless to say you were in a bad mood.

Lonnie noticed how on-edge you were acting and took you aside.

“Hood, you alright?” she asked, and you looked up at her. She was one of the few people you’d let call you ‘Hood’.

Robin Hood was your father, and in his younger days after marrying Marian he was caught stealing from some of the more ‘Royal’ royals like Arial and even Beast and Belle, which almost got him sent to the Isle. ‘Hood’ was a touche name for you, since many would use it as a mocking name, underlying saying you were more of a Isle-dweller then Auradon student. You knew Lonnie wasn’t like that.

Her mother broke the rules for the greater-good too.

“I’ll be fine, just a rough day.” You sighed, running a hand through your hair and shoving your books back in your locker. She leaned on the door beside you and smiled. “What?” You asked, she was always hiding something when she smiled like that.

“Oh nothing, really. It’s just I might have something that could cheer you up.” she started, grabbing your hand as soon as you shut your locker, and dragged you towards where tourney practice would be going on.

“Lonnie-”

“No, let me explain.” she interrupted, “Jay owes me for when I went to the Isle with them. I saved his ass so bad once they got back. This is part of his favour paid off.” she explained and opened the door to the training room.

And he was there.

You suddenly hated everything again.

“(y/n) woah, get your butt back here.” Lonnie said, grabbing you to turn you back around as you tried to leave.

“Why?” you whined, “I don’t like him, you know that.” She smiled down at you and pushed you into the centre ring, handing you your sword before starting to back away.

“Pirates use swords. He,” she pointed to Harry, “Is honestly the best swordsman in the whole school, not that I’d like to admit it.”

“You force me to stand with him and he won’t be the only person with a blade being run through their middles.” you hissed, Lonnie letting out a laugh as she moved behind the barriers to watch.

You could hear Harry let out a laugh behind you. You sucked in a breath as you turned around to face him with a glare.

“You have a lot of your father in you.” he said, leaning suavely on his sword as he spoke. You sent him a sickly sweet smile.

“I do. I’m also a thief, legendary archer, master sword person, fearless, charitable. But I’m also like my mother. Brave, kind, selfless, a worker of silent bribery.” You said, each word bringing you closer to him, your voice slowly going down. “I also share traits both of them have.”

“Like what?” he asked, leaning forwards to be inches away from your face.

“A limited tolerance to harassment.” you said and brought your sword up to his throat, catching him off-guard and causing him to stumble back to sit on one of the training blocks. His eyes flickered from the blade at his throat up to you, your gaze like steel.

“Well, I must you do hold something rather appealing in your mannerisms.” he started, moving like lightning to have you turned around and pinned to his chest, his sword now at your throat. “You’re not like the others at this school. I catch a lot of people taking looks at me, but you don’t. What do you call that?” he finished, speaking into your ear.

You managed to push yourself out of his hold, swords clashing for a few long moments before your blades and faces were brought together again.

“I’d call it dignity. Not really something I’d expect you to have heard of before.”

You took this break apart as a way to regain your bearings. You looked around the room and saw a crowd had gathered.

Lonnie and Jay were watching proudly from where you last saw them, the other VK’s were nearby. Evie was smiling like an idiot, she’d mentioned something about ‘unrivalled tension’ of some kind flowing between you both, so it didn’t surprise you to see her hear at all. Harry’s pals Uma and Gil were here too, up front and centre to watch one of their own fight with one of Auradon’s. King Ben and Mal were even lurking near the back, both watching intently at how this could end up.

You swung your sword a few times, circling the pirate with analytical eyes, waiting for the right time to strike.

His eyes followed you too, your movements mesmerising him in a way that pushed him further. For him it was like a test, a trial you put on for him to tell whether he was good enough for you.

“This is a lot harder than it looks and I don’t think you realise it.” he said, eyes trailing over your form with a smirk as you continued your stalk-like circling. You tilted your head with a light smile, not saying anything in response to his comment, but somewhat knowing what he meant.

He’d never directly said anything, but almost everyone in the school knew if they messed with you they’d get him too, even if it was under the bleachers, because you were unspokenly his, even if you hadn’t said so either.

He took the first move, and what followed was a burr of metallic clashing and twisting body movements that ended with you pinning him on the training room floor.

That qued everyone leaving. They’d seen the fight, and you’d won. Simple.

What happened after was nothing simple. Everything became a lot more complicated.

The following days for you were spent wondering how to feel.

Before, you loathed Harry. To the point you were sure he was what caused all your problems, from losing a pen to getting a fail on your exams. You wanted nothing more then to send him back to the Isle or kill him yourself.

Now, you couldn’t get him off your mind, and not in the way of before. Now you wondered about where he was, who he was with, whether he’d like the outfit you’d decided to wear today. How much you thought of him annoyed you almost as much as he did, and yet you couldn’t stop.

What happened after everyone left that rainy day was something you weren’t entirely sure you remembered properly.

It was as blurry and went by as fast as the sword fight did, but you knew it ended with blushes dusting both your faces and a couple swollen lips.

But you did know that Harry’s insistence on being around you more often didn’t exactly bother you. As far as everyone else knew you both just came to an understanding after the sword fight, however some certain people stayed around long enough to find out it was more than that.

We’re all looking at you Evie, you too Lonnie. Don’t you think you’re being overlooked either Uma.

Except for the fact that Harry has an untameable need to ‘keep things fresh’.

So after you both decided to make things official and known to the whole school that you were his and he was yours, he decided the best way to do that was to pull you into a breath-taking, mind-numbing kiss. In the cafeteria. With the whole student body watching. Including teachers.

Harry got a lovely talking to from the teachers, followed by an earful from you once he got back to visit your dorm.

You got a phone call from your mother saying that you didn’t need to follow in her footsteps by dating a criminal. You told her he wasn’t. You don’t think she believed you.

Your dad told you you’d got a good catch, then he insisted to talk to Harry. You’re pretty sure your boyfriend got threatened.

#harry hook x reader #harry hook #harry hook imagine #harry hook one shot #decendants x reader

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