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#learned my parents bought a plot of land but they never told me. i think people just forget about me. or dont care that im here
nasatestpilot · 1 year
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Let me jump off the plane
I want to free fall
I want gravity to be in sole control
I'm tired of fighting for control
I'll finally be free
My limbs will go limp well before I land
No, I can't do that
I promise I'll be safe
When I pull the cord
It'll be the first parachute that I have ever had
All my life I always hit the ground
Get up, shake the dust, put some dirt on the wounds
Hide behind a smile, everyone likes it when you smile
No one can notice the broken bones or bruises
When they're hidden in plain view
Camouflaged behind the mask
That suffocates my truth
My lungs may be clean
But I'm always coughing
It's like I'm struggling for air
Maybe that's why I wrapped a belt around my neck at least three times
I forget if I tried more than that
I went to a gun shop out in the country
And chickened out before I bought one
I didn't want them to feel responsible for my death
On the first warm day of 2018
My childhood in the backseat
Smoke blown in my face
Ashes through the window
But I'm told that I am fine
I learned early on that my voice could be heard
I learned early on that no one ever cared to listen
I was taught to be ashamed of my mistakes
I should have already known even before I had a chance to learn
I'd accept that it's my fault so we could all move on
I'm not a victim because if I'm involved I am always the culprit
Any time I'm involved I receive a verdict of guilt
Be silent, be silent
No one wants to know the truth
Is it the truth if no one else agrees?
How was I to know?
I was just a kid
Reality is all perception
No love was shown in the house
This isn't what I wanted in a family
Hug me, hold me, tell me that I am valued
Please do something to show me that I matter
Put your arm around my shoulder
Let me feel that I am real
I'm scared that I only exist as a ghost
I could vanish at any moment
I'm an imaginary friend that's been forgotten
When a real person comes along
And I disintegrate into obscurity
Lay me into the fucking ground
So I don't need to haunt the world of my presence
I feared that I could never be accepted
I was embarrassed to like anything
And if I opened up
I'd only expose my insecurities
Which would inevitably lead to rejection
I need to keep my distance
To shield from all the pain
Unworthy of unconditional love
I want the suffering to end
Maybe if I'm the best then I'll be good enough
Maybe if I'm smart then they'll want to listen
Maybe if I'm funny enough they'll choose to spend time with me
Maybe if I'm good at sports I'll be able to express myself
I've only been told by my parents that I made them proud
When someone else gave me recognition
They never took my word when I told them I was good
I'm trying, I'm trying
I'm lying, I'm lying
I'm crying, I'm crying
I'm dying, I'm dying
I have lost the will to live
My imagination feels more real than what's around me
Living in fiction is the only thing that keeps me alive
Every time I try to fill my story with actual experiences
The whole plot falls apart
If I can't achieve what I've set out as my purpose
Then what's the fucking point?
My life may have been surrounded by people
But I spent it all alone inside my head
I know what selfish is
I was called it all the time
Well it's selfish to guilt me into staying
When you say that you need me
Since I carried that label any time I shared what I needed
How come this time it is different?
It's my life and if I choose not to live
Just accept it
Everyone already lived without me
Death is final but why not take the risk?
I've been conditioned to play it safe
And I'm breaking down the myth of authority
It's painful to read but once you're done you can move on
And worry about your own life
Everyone's going through a lot
Everyone feels a little numb
These feelings I share have existed as part of my life for as long as I can remember
I can think through and process and accept that I am not defined
By the thoughts that plague my mind
But these feelings come back every time that I feel the slightest bit of shame
And I feel shame with the even slightest fuck up
I work on it but I still can't make it stop
I try to be mindful but I end up being buried deeper
The spiral is too slick for me to grab on to anything
There's only one relief I know
It only occurs when something good happens
The script becomes flipped
And I become the me I want to be again
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dahlia-coccinea · 3 years
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Wuthering Heights - Chapter 4
It seems strange that Nelly would tell Lockwood that Heathcliff does not live at the Grange because he is cheap. I think it would be obvious to her that he lives at the Heights because of the connection he has to it. Not that he isn’t also cheap, but I don’t think it is believable that is his main motivation. Perhaps what she says is just born out of bitterness because she wishes Cathy could be at Thrushcross with her? Her alliance is made clear moments later when she tells Lockwood that, “Hareton is the last of them (the Earnshaws), as our Miss Cathy is of us—I mean, of the Lintons.” 
Heathcliff being brought home by Mr. Earnshaw seems a little less strange when you consider how similar Nelly’s situation is. She may work at the house but she is also allowed to eat and play with Hindley and Catherine and Mr. Earnshaw promises to bring her back apples and pears along with the gifts for his children. I think Heathcliff has some aspects that allow for him to become more doted on than Nelly, such as, having no family fulfilling that role, and possibly because he is a boy and Hindley seems to already be somewhat of a disappointment to Mr. Earnshaw. Also in a strongly class-conscious society, it is apparent that by birth Nelly is beneath the Earnshaws. Even though one could easily be similarly prejudiced against Heathcliff’s utter lack of established social status, and his ethnic background (and many are) - it seems Mr. Earnshaw’s pity on the extreme state that he finds the “starving” and “houseless” child outweigh any possible apprehension and cause him to act with compassion. 
In the last chapter discussion, I mentioned that Catherine does show genuine affection for her father, besides just nostalgia, and I think that Nelly says, “often did little Cathy ask when he (Mr. Earnshaw) would be home” and that “the children got tired of running down to the gate to look” is a good example. Even it is partially because they’re waiting on the gifts he has promised them, it is a pretty typical father/child bond. 
This chapter gives us the most clues as to Heathcliff’s origins. Some points that I’ve mentioned before, that he has little enough experiences with English Nelly says he only “repeated over and over again some gibberish that nobody could understand.” But also a large detractor that the idea that everyone really knows that he’s Hindley’s and Catherine’s half-brother - Nelly does say she knows his whole story, “except where he was born, and who were his parents.”
I’ve always thought Catherine’s initial response to Heathcliff is kind of funny. Nelly says:
“Cathy, when she learned the master had lost her whip in attending on the stranger, showed her humour by grinning and spitting at the stupid little thing; earning for her pains a sound blow from her father, to teach her cleaner manners. They entirely refused to have it in bed with them, or even in their room; and I had no more sense, so I put it on the landing of the stairs, hoping it might be gone on the morrow.”
By the time Nelly returns:
“Miss Cathy and he were now very thick; but Hindley hated him: and to say the truth I did the same; and we plagued and went on with him shamefully: for I wasn’t reasonable enough to feel my injustice, and the mistress never put in a word on his behalf when she saw him wronged.”
In the first few years after Heathcliff's arrival, Nelly does admit to persecuting him along with Hindley. It’s details like this that make me question Nelly's later complaints about the way Catherine treats her or that she pinches her during Edgar’s visit years later. Yes, at that point Nelly is clearly in the role of a servant and below Catherine, but it can't be ignored that while she is 14 and Catherine and Heathcliff are 6/7 years old and she admits she mistreats at least Heathcliff, and sides with Hindley who regularly beats him. Not that it makes Catherine’s behavior right, but as I have mentioned before, she grows up in a house where corporal punishment is the norm and most people around her do antagonize and abuse her and Heathcliff. I think considering that she is really quite tame and she isn’t actually malicious where she easily could be.
We learn in Chapter 4, many of the dynamics that I think play into how Nelly and Heathcliff interact in the years to come, Hindley and his motivations, and also how Heathcliff develops from a child into the man we later know. Nelly (not for the last time) paints this image of Heathcliff as almost a curse saying that “from the very beginning, he bred bad feeling in the house.” His mere presence seems to destroy the natural bond between father and son: “the young master (Hindley) had learned to regard his father as an oppressor rather than a friend, and Heathcliff as a usurper of his parent’s affections and his privileges; and he grew bitter with brooding over these injuries.” 
In the most human descriptions that she gives him, where he is not depicted as foreign and strange, or a curse of some kind, she still doesn’t say anything truly kind about him. When the family catches the measles and Nelly cares for the children, Heathcliff, the illest of the three, Nelly says:
“...he would have me constantly by his pillow: I suppose he felt I did a good deal for him, and he hadn’t wit to guess that I was compelled to do it. However, I will say this, he was the quietest child that ever nurse watched over. The difference between him and the others forced me to be less partial. Cathy and her brother harassed me terribly: he was as uncomplaining as a lamb; though hardness, not gentleness, made him give little trouble.”
It’s such a complicated clash of traits we hear about Heathcliff. He is just a child, nothing supernatural about him, and illness and suffering cause a simple human desire for someone to care for him. She says he is a “sullen, patient child; hardened, perhaps, to ill-treatment.” He “said precious little, and generally the truth,” which should be a good quality, though Nelly tempers this by saying:
“I wondered often what my master saw to admire so much in the sullen boy; who never, to my recollection, repaid his indulgence by any sign of gratitude. He was not insolent to his benefactor, he was simply insensible; though knowing perfectly the hold he had on his heart, and conscious he had only to speak and all the house would be obliged to bend to his wishes.”
Then we have the story of Hindley’s and Heathcliff’s fight over the horses that Mr. Earnshaw bought at the parish fair. It seems to foreshadow much of his plotting for revenge, his ability to suffer greatly to achieve a goal, and his unwavering focus on that which he desires. 
We see the extent of Hindley’s early hatred of Heathcliff. In the exchange, he calls him a “dog,” a “Gipsy,” a “beggarly interloper,” and finally “imp of Satan.” We hear from Heathcliff that he’s beaten him three times that week, which has left his arm is bruised to the shoulder, that he threatens to throw Heathcliff out upon Mr. Earnshaw’s death, and during the scene throws an iron weight directly at Heathcliff (who must be only 10 or so), as well as push him under a horse with the hope of it trampling him to death. 
After Hindley storms off Nelly says: 
“I persuaded him (Heathcliff) easily to let me lay the blame of his bruises on the horse: he minded little what tale was told since he had what he wanted. He complained so seldom, indeed, of such stirs as these, that I really thought him not vindictive: I was deceived completely, as you will hear.”
A great example of the complexity of his character and such a foreboding end to this chapter!
@astrangechoiceoffavourites
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willow-lane · 3 years
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I saw [WILLOW LANE] at a coffee shop in [BROOKLYN] today. I forgot how much [SHE] looks like [MADELYN CLINE]. They are a [TWENTY-THREE] year old [WAITRESS] who’s been in NYC for [A YEAR] now. Every time we run into each other, they are always [SPONTANEOUS AND FREE SPIRITED] but I’ve heard people say they can also be [NON-COMMITTAL AND SELF-INDULGENT]. [OUT OF THE BLUE BY KATIE PRUITT] reminds me of them every time it comes on the radio. / @villagestart​
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Hello everyone! I’m Ella and I’m super excited to be part of this roleplay and introduce Willow to all of you, she’s a new muse but she’s based on an old muse of mine so I think I have her figured out or mostly lol. I’d love to plot with all of you, so please like this or hmu. If you want my discord, I’d be happy to give it to you, just ask :D
basics
NAME: ava willow lane
NICKNAME: will, lolo, pillow
GENDER: cis female
PLACE OF BIRTH: burlington, vermont
DATE OF BIRTH: september 28, 1997
AGE: twenty-three
SEXUAL ORIENTATION: bisexual
OCCUPATION: waitress
NEIGHBORHOOD: brooklyn
background
Burlington was a dream within a dream, the station next to heaven. A town in love with itself and whose residents gloated about the wooded land, creased by hills, and threaded by streams. 
The Lanes were living the typical American dream: the big house with the white picket fence, a large backyard and two perfect children. It was dreamlike.
Their kids could count themselves lucky and Willow Lane certainly did for most of her life. As the youngest daughter of a successful surgeon and a renowned psychotherapist who taught at the University of Vermont, she was taught that receiving an education was the only way to get ahead in life.
Her parents made sure to set their kids to success and while most of the kids from her street were out there playing, she was holed up in her room, reading the stacks of encyclopedia books her parents bought me for her birthday. 
As a young child, Willow was filled with a sense of wonder, and encouraged by her curious personality she wanted to learn everything.
By the time she was in the sixth grade, she was smarter than most of the kids in her class, still her parents reminded her every day that she must outrank them all. Her parents took pride in her achievements. They were quick to boast about it in public, but they remained strict in private. Anything less than gold didn’t deserve a place on the wall.
Her afternoons were always full. Whether it was ballet class, french lessons, piano lessons or soccer practice. She had no time for herself.
Then high school started and by then she was overworked. Tired of chasing perfection and only being met with a “try harder”. 
TW: DRUGS, ADDICTION, VOMIT MENTION, PANIC ATTACK: While she was still number one at her school, it was taking everything in her to keep it that way. Her parents didn’t know about those panic attacks she suffered at night or how she threw up before any competition. To them, she was handling well and she was very good at pretending but she also had a little secret. In her sophomore year, she was introduced to Adderall and she was quickly hooked. END OF TW
When she got accepted into a prestigious university, her parents didn’t hesitate to brag about how their kid would attend an Ivy League but Willow was mortified. 
Back in Burlington, she was the biggest fish in the sea but at Princeton there were students who were better and shone brighter than her. 
Maybe it was because she was suddenly cast into a whole new world that was so different from the one she grew up in. Maybe it was because she had harbored a bit of resentment towards her parents for her wasted youth. Whatever it was, by the end of her freshman year, university had swallowed her up. 
TW ALCOHOL, DRUGS, DEPRESSION She got into a bad crowd, drank herself into oblivion, partied harder than anyone, and developed a penchant for bad boys who were much older than her. All this while trying to maintain a perfect GPA. Thanks to her magic pill, she was able to function and not feel guilty about not being as perfect as her parents wanted her to be. After all, she was only trying to recover the freedom that they took from her. 
But this coping mechanism only turned to worse. The more she tried to drown her feelings in alcohol, the harder it came to bite her in the ass. It was clear as water: Willow Lane, picture perfect daughter, was depressed and had been for a while, and now it had caught up to her. 
She was fighting a battle she was slowly losing. Willow was in a constant state of helplessness, staring into the void, and completely unable to pull herself out of it. If it hadn’t been for the upbringing she had, she would have been completely fine with self-destruct. END OF TW
The summer after her freshman year, she came back home and decided to have a talk with her parents. Her parents sat across the table, and they were not celebrating the end of a successful first semester, instead, they were fuming with betrayal. 
Willow told them that she had dropped most of her classes and she explained to them how she was exhausted beyond repair. They were displeased, so disappointed that looking at them was painful. For the first time in their life, their perfect daughter had failed them.
By the end of the evening, her father was livid. Threatened her that if she didn’t take more classes and got excellent grades he would stop paying her tuition. That’s when it hit her. To her parents, she was nothing but an object, an accomplishment to brag about to her friends. That was not love, that was selfish and a wake up call.
She packed up her stuff that evening, went back to Princeton and emptied her dorm as well as she dropped out completely. 
Freedom at last. With only a few bucks in her account, she bought a random bus ticket that took her to Montreal, Canada where she stayed for a couple of weeks, while working as a waitress before she moved to a new location. For the past three years, Willow has been living off a backpack. 
She moved to New York a year ago, but she comes and goes. Whenever she gets bored or too attached to someone she escapes. 
She’s been clean for three years when it comes to Adderall, although she still drinks but only socially.
personality
Despite her strict upbringing, Willow is a free-spirit! She’s always looking for a new adventure and she wants to live her life to the fullest, she doesn’t care about rules or schedules. She lives a pretty hedonistic lifestyle, always chasing a high in life and sometimes that makes her take some reckless decisions. A naturally loving person, Willow is always there to lend a shoulder to cry on or offer to wipe off your tears, however, she does struggle with connections. If she feels a deep connection with someone she runs away as she believes that being attached to someone will tie her up to one place and as we know, Willow lives a pretty nomad life. She keeps coming back to New York because she loves the vibe but when she gets bored or overwhelmed she leaves without warning. As loving as she is, she can also be ruthless and cold, especially when feeling vulnerable. She has a sharp tongue and it’s not afraid to hurt some feelings if that means shattering the pristine image some people have of her.
headcanons
She has a rib cage tattoo that reads “Eternity bores me, I never wanted it.” It’s a quote from Sylvia Plath.
Speaks French fluently and sometimes she likes to pretend she’s a lost French tourist just for fun.
Volunteers at the animal shelter. Because she doesn’t have a set home, she can’t have a pet but she loves animals.
Never has enough battery on her phone and sometimes she sings in the subway to earn some coins because she tends to forget her wallet.
Really good friends with the homeless woman who lives down her street, she brings her food from the restaurant.
Keeps many scrapbooks from the places she’s been.
Sometimes she goes to music stores and plays the piano, one of the few activities she enjoyed as a child.
Loves reading and whenever she’s not getting in trouble or working, she’s at the library.
Wears too many rings, so don’t try to mug her.
connections
Older brother: Willow has an older brother who followed her parents’ plan. He graduated college and now has a very important job. Willow hasn’t spoken to him in three years, even if he’s tried to contact her. She just doesn’t want any ties to her old life, including her family.
“Best Friend”: I put it between quotations because she doesn’t stay in one place long enough to actually form long lasting friendships but this person is the closest to that. She adores them and actually sends them a postcard when she leaves.
Partner in crime: As stated, Willow is pretty reckless and she does a lot of stupid shit but she’s always seeking for someone to be her partner in crime and just go crazy with them.
Co-workers/Clients: She works as a waitress at a restaurant (if your character has a restaurant let me know, bc idk where she would work). 
Neighbor: She lives in a small apartment in Brooklyn with two other roommates, it’s not ideal but it’s what she has.
College friends/hook ups: Oh during her college year, she was a party girl and she made a lot of “friends” (She attended Princeton btw) and also hooked up with a lot of people (f/m/nb), most of them were older than her.
Flirtationship: She is a natural flirt and she doesn’t even try to hide it.
Unrequited: Maybe your character has a crush on her (and depending on chemistry maybe she does as well but since she moves often she tries to ignore it). It’s angsty, it’s fun, give it to me. (f/m/nb)
Hook ups: Y’all know the drill
Bad tinder date: Willow thought it would be fun to go on a tinder date and she proposed some crazy scheme and they both had to spend the night in a jail cell.
Roommates: She lives in Brooklyn with two more roommates.
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stones-x-bones · 3 years
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Funerary Wrongs || Solo
TIMING: Current SUMMARY: Bex attends her mother’s funeral. CONTENT: Parental death, Child abuse (in the form of memories), Domestic abuse, Homophobia, transphobia mentions (both these two are marked for which sections they’re in in order to be skipped if needed), Heavy Alcohol use
---
Bex did not attend her mother’s funeral. 
The idea of it made her sick, to be standing among people who could actually mourn the loss of such a monster. She could not fake a sorrow she didn’t feel. There would be whispers, rumors, stories about why she didn’t attend. Some would say it was because she was looking after her father. Some would say it was because she resented her mother. And some would say it was because she orchestrated the death. None of them were entirely wrong, she supposed, but she cringed every time she heard the whispers as she signed all the appropriate documents to make her mother’s death official. They had no idea her mother was a monster.
Bex stood at her mother’s grave later that night, staring down at the headstone. Odell Ohpelia Oxendine. February 23rd, 1979- July 31st, 2021. Mother, Leader, Lover. Non ducor, duco. Bex sneered at the inscription. None of it was true. Odell loved no one, led nothing except a vindictive life, and she certainly was no mother. Still, Bex set the bouquet of roses down in front of her “mother’s” grave and wondered if it should be changed to “aunt” or “legal guardian”, and if it was possible, even, to get it changed. It was at her discretion, after all. She owned all the power of attorney now. It was the opposite to how her entire life had been up until this point.
When Bex was five, she remembered sitting in the living room with a cup of tea in front of her. Her first time with real tea in real company-- visiting ambassadors, who were looking for legal representation, after a mishap at a luxury hotel they were staying at. Bex didn’t remember what had happened, but she knew it had been bad, looking between the faces of her mother and father, and the other couple that was sitting across from her. They had a child, too, about her age. A boy with dusty hair and tan skin, who was looking at her curiously. He, too, had a cup of tea in front of him that he hadn’t touched.
“Why are you wearing a dress?” He’d asked. Bex did what she was taught and didn’t move or look over at him.
“Because I like them.”
“But aren’t you a boy?” He’d asked, and it hadn’t been cruel, like so many other times to come in her life, but curious. “My dad said boys don’t wear dresses.”
Bex shrugged, but kept looking at her cup. “I don’t know,” she answered, “I don’t think so?”
The boy was quiet. “Oh,” was all he said, and after that moment, he’d called her a girl and she’d liked it. He even let her be the wife when they played “house” later. 
Her mother had noticed, and later that night, she’d sat down with Bex on her lap and refused to look at her. Her voice had been soft, though, and Bex remembered it had felt nice, her mother’s hand combing through her hair, nails gentle on her scalp. 
“You can be whatever you want, darling,” she had cooed, “but if this is what you want, then you must promise me something.” 
Bex had looked up at her with anticipatory eyes.
“Promise me you’ll always be good for me. This is so much to ask of a mother, but I’ll do it for you, if you can do that for me.” 
Bex was a child. She hadn’t known better. She’d nodded, enthusiastically, and the next day, her mother had bought her an entirely new closet of clothes and pulled her from her current school to be put into a new one, and she had also made Bex promise to behave only like a girl. To make sure no one knew her secret, otherwise they would hate her, be mean to her, and be mean to them, as well. 
Bex had nodded in agreement. She didn’t want anyone to hate her or her parents. She didn’t want to be the reason people hated her mother.
(Transphobia tw)
Bex was not ashamed of herself anymore, not really. She was proud to be trans. But, sometimes, she still paused outside the women’s bathroom and wondered if someone inside would look at her and know. Sometimes, she’d stop and hear her mother’s voice in her head, chastising her, telling her no one could love her, not like this. So she had to keep it secret, until she could be a real girl. Her mother had taught her to be shameful, and she had believed her.
But it hadn’t been true. Just like everything else her mother had told her, it wasn’t true. Bex had always been a girl, and no one ever questioned her when she went inside, dressed in her floral skirts and low cut tops and tights. Bex had always known she was a girl, and she’d fought-- the only thing she’d fought for-- for the chance to be her true self. And her parents had relented, because what else could they do? It wouldn’t do for them to have a son who misbehaved and acted out. Much better a daughter who was complacent. And Bex had been proud of herself, despite everything. But still, sometimes, she hesitated. Because fear remained. It would always remain. 
(Transphobia tw END)
It was nothing compared to the first time she’d awoken from a night terror, screaming in her bed. She’d curled into a ball under her blankets and cried until the housekeeper had come inside and pulled them back and shushed her. Something had happened, Bex remembered, because the housekeeper was looking around with shock and horror on her face. And in the morning, when her mother had come to wake her, she’d found an already awake Bex trying to put a shattered lamp back together.
That was the first time she’d been punished. She’d only been six. Her mother’s anger had manifested in acrylic nails raking across her face, digging into her shirt and flinging her onto the floor in front of her bed, a cold demand on her tongue. “What did you do?” 
“I-I-I don’t know! I had a nightmare and then I woke up and it was like this! I just had a n-nightmare and--”
Bex didn’t get to finish. That was the first time she had picked out an outfit to cover up the bruises. That had been the first time Bex had learned how to put on cover up to make her black eye look normal. 
She’d only been six.
She’d only been a year older when it happened in public for the first time. They’d been at a store, a big store, and Bex had stopped to look at a doll she wanted. She had pretty rosy cheeks and long black hair, just like Bex, and the next thing she knew, she’d lost her mother. Bex had fallen to the floor in panic and wailed, crying out for her. Her cries had shattered an entire row of glass candles and cracked the nearest window. Someone nearby had gotten a bloody nose, and the doll she’d wanted began to crumple. It was almost half folded in on itself when her mother had rounded the corner, a crazed look in her eye, and scooped Bex up, racing out to the car with her. 
Bex hadn’t had time to be happy to see her mother. Hands at her throat made her quiet, a palm sliding across her cheek. Nails digging into her jaw as her mother held her head still and made sure Bex was looking her in the eye when she said, “If you ever do that again, you won’t be leaving your room for a week. Do you understand me? Tell me you understand me!”
“I understand,” Bex had croaked. Her mother had lifted her by her arm and thrown her into the car before snapping at the driver to take them home. She’d have to finish shopping tomorrow.
Bex had hidden in the backseat, curled up small. And when they’d gotten home, she’d raced to her room and hid in her closet, stuffed in the corner behind her jackets. She’d heard her mother come in looking for her once, but she’d given up quickly and slammed her door. Locked it.
That was the first time she’d learned being small and unseen was safe.
Bexley looked at her mother’s gravestone again and noted how polished it was. They’d bugged her about specifics-- what kind of rock, what color, how big, how wide, what shape-- but Bex had deferred all of those decisions to someone else. The family attorney. She hadn’t wanted to think about it, but, now, she wished she had. She would’ve picked something tacky for her. This headstone was too nice, a smooth, white granite that looked like a pearl among the other headstones. They were all of her ancestors. The plot of land reserved for her grandmother was still empty, waiting for her body-- as was the plot of land for her father. But both of them were beyond legal sanity, one with dementia, the other with a magically jumbled memory. 
Behind her mother’s grave, up the hill, Bex spotted the mausoleum that held the bodies of the first Oxendine’s in White Crest. Beckley and Finneus. Her middle name-- her name-- was taken after her, the first Oxendine in White Crest. The true matriarch. She’d started the family business and built the manor and established herself as a town resident before she’d even married. And when she had, to a traveling man with political riches and a duke from England, she’d kept her name and made him take her own. And from there, the name had been passed on through the women of the family. They were revolutionary.
Bex didn’t know why her mother had kept her middle name. She’d found her original birth certificate, signed by an Odette Rosenberg (with no name written under the father’s section), and found that her name had been something completely different. River Bexley Rosenberg. It had a ring to it, she supposed, but she wondered, now, just how many names she had had. River, Oded, Odelia, Bexley. And who was she, now? An Oxendine? A Rosenberg? Or something else, someone else? 
Who was Bexley?
She didn’t know.
Her hands skated over the cool tomb of her great-great-great-and many more greats, grandmother. 
“Why did you do it?” she asked the dead rock. “Why did you make the first deal?” 
Of course, no one answered. There were no answers for her here. Of course there weren’t. This place only left her with questions and open wounds.
Unlike her parents, who had always been careful, after those first few times, to never leave a trace behind on her.
She’d been nine when she’d been called into the main office, and two concerned faces had greeted her. 
“Please, Odelia, have a seat,” the principal had offered, pointing to the chair in front of his desk. Bex had sunk into it stiffly, hands folded nervously into her lap.
“A-am I in trouble?” she asked. She didn’t think she’d done anything to get herself in trouble, but maybe one of the kids had said something, or one of the parents had found out and told the school they were uncomfortable. It had happened before.
“Oh, no, no, sweetheart, no, we--” the younger man exchanged a worried glance with the woman standing next to him. Bex recognized her as the counselor. Her face looked soft, sad.
“No, honey, you’re not in trouble. We just have some--” she’d contemplated the word, and Bex had waited, perfectly still-- “concerns.” She moved around to Bex’s chair and kneeled to her eye height, looking at her with something Bex had never really seen before. “Some of the other kids have noted that you seem to...come to school with a lot of bruises sometimes.” 
(Transphobia tw)
Bex recalled how, just a few weeks ago, a boy had tackled her to the ground, wrenching at her shirt, cackling the whole time and asking her what she was really hiding under her clothes. If she was really actually a girl. Instead, he’d seen the bruises and he’d immediately jumped up off of her and shouted, “I didn’t do that! It wasn’t me!” before the mediator had come running over and pulled her up and away and led her off into the nurse’s office. 
Funny, she thought, how they were concerned about the bruises, but not the boy who had tried to tear her shirt off.
(Transphobia tw END)
“It’s nothing,” Bex had said back quickly, just like her parents had told her to say, “I’m just really clumsy. I fall a lot, especially at home. We have a lot of stairs. My mom says it’s because of my health, I don’t have good balance. It’s why I’m sick all the time.” 
The two adults exchanged a look again. The woman reached out and put a hand over Bex’s, who looked down in shock and confusion. “Honey, it’s okay. You’re safe here, you can tell the truth. Do your mom or dad get mad at you a lot?”
Bex looked from the woman to the principal, and back. Was this a trick? 
“N-No. She just likes things d-done a certain way. And sometimes I mess up. But it’s okay, because she loves me.” 
The concern on the woman’s face grew and Bex scrambled. Had she said something wrong? “It’s okay! It’s okay! They don’t hurt me! They just need to teach me a lesson and sometimes I don’t get it so they have to make sure I understand! It’s okay!” And she’d started sobbing and she didn’t know why and the woman-- the counselor-- had pulled Bex into a tight hug but all Bex had done was cry.
The next day, social services had shown up at Bex’s house.
The day after that, Bex had been pulled from yet another school. This time, they sent her to an all girl’s Christian boarding school up North. “Maybe,” her mother had said, “you’ll learn some values, and how to appreciate all you’ve been given.” 
Bex hadn’t learned anything there, except that she was supposed to be ashamed of herself, and that she might like kissing girls.
(Homophobia TW)
Bex had really had no reason to believe her mother wouldn’t approve of her liking girls. So when she’d come home, giddy and smiling, after kissing one of the girls in her class-- they had been friends for a while and her name was Jess and Bex liked her freckles and her red hair-- her surprise was palpable when the news was met with shouting. Her mother was suddenly asking what she’d done wrong, how could she have let this happen, why was she being punished this way. She asked Bex why she was doing this to her, did she want to hurt her? Was she trying to hurt her? All she’d wanted was for Bex to be good for her, why was that so hard for her to understand?
Bex hadn’t known what to say. She’d said sorry. She’d apologized over and over and over again, groveling at her mother’s feet while her mother kicked and kicked and hit and with each strike told Bex she couldn’t be that way. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t allow it. She wasn’t going to let Bexley ruin her reputation. She was wrong, she was bad, she was wrong, she was wrong. She was wrong.
Bex hadn’t gotten out of bed for a week after that.
Her mother told the school she was sick. The housekeeper brought her regular meals and helped her to the bathroom while her bruised and broken ribs healed. It would be almost a decade before her mother hurt her this bad again. 
The dumpster had been worse, Bex thought, remembering the feel of it as her head made contact with solid metal. 
(Homophobia tw END)
Bex looked across the grounds to the manor, which sat atop a hill surrounded by a grove of trees. The perimeter wall, built of old brick and rod iron, looked pristine, outlining the property as if it were a cut out. It looked so wrong against the crop of trees, jagged stone against gentle forest. She wanted to burn it down. 
Or, at least, have it demolished. 
Unfortunately, she still had to go through everything inside. She couldn’t just have it all destroyed, as much as she wanted to. There were legal things, important things, maybe even nostalgic things that she wanted to keep. Plus, some of her clothes were still inside. The small box of trinkets she’d dug up as a kid, when she’d been out in the gardens, pretending to be an archaeologist. Fingers full of dirt, stuck under her fingernails, the most freeing feeling in the world at the time. Sometimes she didn’t even mind the aggressive baths her mother gave her after, scrubbing at her dirty skin and staring at her with a cold silence of disappointment.
Bex stood on the front stoop now, staring up at the ornate doors, doors that had stood for almost three centuries now. Placed a flat palm against the cool bronze metal of the embossed decor on the panels. Detailed designs that were supposed to show off the family’s wealth, but to Bex, they were just shapes. They’d always just been prison bars. 
She pushed through the door and stepped inside and heard her footsteps echo. The house creaked and moaned around her, reminding her that it was haunted-- not by ghosts, but by memories. And there, a new one, at the foot of the staircase. The blood stain was gone, but Bex could remember exactly where it was. She could remember exactly what her mother’s dead body looked like. 
Bex walked past the spot where she’d killed her mother and up the staircase. When she reached the top, she waited, but no one came. The house was empty. She went down the hall to the right.
The door to her father’s study was open and she slipped inside, heading to his desk. She opened drawer after drawer until she found what she’d been looking for-- personal records. All the records they’d kept of her, medical or schooling or otherwise, and tore them to shreds. She ripped drawer after drawer out of his desk and threw the folders around the room. Finances, receipts, client files, she decorated the room with them and screamed at them and at what was left of her father in the office. She took his cane from the wall-- the same cane that had whipped her back countless times-- and snapped it over her knee before throwing the pieces into the unlit fireplace behind his desk. She tore books from his shelves, the personal library of law resources they’d amassed over centuries, and tore pages from them, shredding them like confetti and throwing them up in the air. 
They fell around her like ash.
She wrenched open the cabinet in the corner-- his liquor cabinet-- and grabbed whatever bottle hit her hand first. A fifty-year-old bottle of whiskey. She let it pour down her throat and let it burn and relished in it, before she turned and held the bottle upside down and let it pour out onto the floor and mess of papers on the floor. When it was empty, she shattered it against the fireplace wall.
She yanked out another bottle, vodka this time, and took a large swig before she stumbled from her father’s study and back down the hallway, tipping paintings that hung along the wall and smashing sconces with the angry magic that boiled beneath her skin. 
Her mother did not have a study in the house, she hated it almost as much as Bex did. Well, had hated it. You couldn’t hate anything when you were dead. Instead, her mother spent her time in the lounge, watching old movies, reading old books, or going over cases and papers. Bex remembered the first time she’d seen her mother sitting on that ugly, green couch, pouring over some case that was going to net them a large pay increase for the company. She had awoken from another nightmare, this time containing the damage only to the mirror in her room and the lamp that had already been shattered once.
She stood in the doorway, which was only partially cracked, and called out to her mother in a quiet, raspy voice. Her mother hadn’t looked up from her papers, but had beckoned Bex to her with just a hand. Bex scurried inside and climbed up onto the couch next to her mother and wondered if she would be scolded again. Instead, her mother had set the files aside and pulled her into her lap, leaning back, curling the child against her chest. Bex stayed perfectly still in her mother’s arms as she stroked her hair and Bex listened to her heartbeat. It never faltered.
“I wish you were better,” her mother had sighed, languishing, “I wish you were mine.” 
Bex hadn’t known what it meant at the time, but she did now.
She took another long sip of the vodka before she jabbed the letter opener she’d snagged from her father’s study into the green upholstery and ripped. Again and again and again, until couch cotton spewed from it like blood from a wound and the chair was no longer recognizable as such. 
Bex continued a little further down the hallway until she reached the end, and she reached a door that she’d never walked through. In all her twenty-one years, she’d never walked through the door to her parents’ bedroom. She hesitated and wondered why, as she looked at the pale wood, pristine as ever. Took another sip and waited for the wood grain to turn into prison bars, but they never did.
She pushed the door open and stepped inside.
It looked almost identical to her own room, save for the larger bed, and the two bedside tables on each side. Bex blinked, and in an instant, she saw the future her parents had always wanted for her, sleeping beside a man she did not love, living in a world she did not want, and living a lie that she could not tell. 
Bex was sobbing by the time she made it over to the bed and crawled onto it, vodka sloshing onto the manicured comforter. She took one last sip before she sank onto the bed and curled up, cradling the bottle. They had stolen her life from her and created the holes inside of her that she did not know how to fill. They had deprived her of love and happiness and everything in between. They had created a prison for her and kept her locked up and isolated until she’d turned into an obedient, quiet machine.
They had ruined her and yet she missed them.
She missed them so much. 
When Bex fell asleep that night, curled up in her parents’ bed for the first time, it was not Odell and Daniel Oxendine who she imagined wrapped around her, comforting her through her grief, because it was not them she missed.
It was the parents she never got to have that she missed. It was them who she wept for. 
---
When Bexley would wake the next morning, it would be to too many missed calls and texts. 
Where are you?
Are you okay?
Bex, I’m worried.
Please just let me know you’re okay?
And many more. She didn’t read them all. She sent one reply: i”m oKY. Homr soon
Sun bled into the room from the window above the bed and Bex lifted a hand to block it out as she turned to look around the room. It was no different in the daytime than it had been last night, still as stiff and wooden as the doors that stood between each room. 
When she moved to sit up, her hand knocked the still partially full bottle and she glanced down at it through a haze. Blindly grabbing for it before downing the rest of it and leaving the bottle in the middle of the bed as she crawled off and stumbled towards the bathroom. Her cheeks felt crusted and stiff and her eyes were so dry. She splashed water onto her face and hoped it would soothe her, but found it only relieved the numbness on her face but not the rest of her body. 
When Bexley looked up into the mirror, her mother’s face greeted her. 
Bex leapt back, throwing the towel she’d been holding at the mirror as her back hit the wall. Memories began to flash in her mind, things she knew weren’t her own. She cried out, clutching at her temples, pressing so hard she could feel her knuckles turning white. “GO away!” she shouted to nothing, to no one. The mirror cracked. “Get out of my head!” The sink split, water sprayed from a busted pipe onto the floor. “You’re dead!” The shower doors began to worble, groaning as if under pressure. “You’re dead!” 
The world shook around Bex, she didn’t care to contain the tendrils of lilac that leaked from her and snaked around the room, burning its essence into the tile, the wood, the glass. She could feel her soul trying to separate from her body, trying to escape the pain, the grief. “You’re dead!” she screamed again. She wanted to fly away and disappear into a plane where none of this existed. She almost let herself.
Then, a familiar voice whispered in her ear, “I’ll never die, as long as you’re alive.” 
Bex slammed back to reality and turned fast enough to hear her spine pop as her fist made contact with the solid tile of the wall, snapping under the pressure, knuckles splitting. The sudden shock of it pulled her back to the moment, pulled in her magic, and she stared at her bloody knuckles as they dripped onto the immaculate, white floor. The red stood out against the pearl colored tile and Bex watched, memorized, waiting for her heartbeat to return to normal. It never would, but, eventually, it calmed enough for her to take in a large gulp of air and not feel so dizzy.
Slowly, as to not make anything return, she stood, braced against the wall, blood smearing up the side of it. She made her way over to the cabinet next to the sink and pried it open, cradling her bleeding hand to her chest, grabbing the first roll of gauze she could find. She picked the towel up again and wet it in the water leaking from the burst pipe before wrapping it around her hand to staunch the bleeding. 
Hand still cradled to her chest, she made her way out of the bedroom and down the hall, back to the study. Feet crunched on crumpled paper and broken bottle bits as she grabbed another bottle of whatever was inside-- more vodka, premium, top shelf brand this time-- and unwrapped her hand. Poured some of the liquid over it, whimpering and flinching, but containing herself enough to clean up her knuckles as she drank from the bottle. She just needed to stay numb for now.
She moved, almost mechanically, from the study back down the hallway to the staircase, where she sat on the bottom step and stared at the spot where her mother’s bloodstain should have been. She stared until the shadows crept up the stairs and bit at her feet and she realized she’d told Mina she was going to be home soon. Soon had come and gone.
Bex looked down at the bottle in her hands, then to the floor. Once again, she lifted it, took a sip, then held it upside down over the spot where her mother’s dead body had lain. Sometimes, she could still see it there. The alcohol trickled onto the floor and splashed onto her legs.
“I think I was supposed to write a speech about you,” she muttered over the sound of trickling liquid. “You know, like how people get up during a funeral and go up front and talk about the deceased. They’re s’pposed to be nice,” she slurred, “talk about what the person did in life, how they touched everyone around them. How they’d be missed ‘n shit.” She tipped the bottle more and more as it emptied, the expensive liquid now running down the tile as if racing to escape. “I don’t think I coulda faced them, though. All those people. All those people who thought you were, like-- good. A good mother, a good lawyer, a good citizen.” She hiccuped. “But you’re not-- weren’t. Any of those things. You were-- I dunno what you were. You were the opposite of all of those. Or-- the sideways of all of those. And even though I knew that, I still loved you, you know. I think I still do. I don’t know how to stop. You were the shittiest mother a girl could ask for, and you’re not even my real mother, but I still love you.” It was quiet, then as the bottle was empty and Bex had stopped talking. 
Silently, she set the bottle down on the last step and stood up. She scrunched her brows as she looked down at the spot, as if still looking at her mother’s body. “I think that’s what I learned from you, ultimately,” she decided out loud, “I don’t know how to stop loving someone. Even you.” The house groaned around her, as if it, too, were crying. “Even a monster.” 
And then Bex wrapped her still bleeding hand and hailed a cab to the ferry, and went home to her loving girlfriend and loving guardian who had always been more of a mother to her than Odell.
And on her way back, she only wondered, once, if this was all worth it.
3 notes · View notes
kookscrescent · 5 years
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BTS Reaction┊You accidentally say something inappropriate in Korean
❖ Pairing: bts x reader ❖ Genre: reaction ❖ Warnings: minor explicit language under the cut.
*a/n: i realize that what is written or said in english might (most likely) won't make any sense if it were to be translated in to Korean, but this is just for the fun of it, so just pretend okay* 
NB! This is all fiction! Nothing mentioned/written are facts and/or real! So please just keep that in mind when reading and enjoy! Thank you ♡
JUNGKOOK
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You had been practicing for over a week to surprise Jungkook on your anniversary. Korean wasn't your first language and you sometimes had a hard time learning it, but you knew it well enough to get by, and Jungkook was a huge help! 
The two of you were eating the dinner that you had prepared, candles were lit on the table and Jungkook had bought you a huge bouquet of red roses that he gifted you. 
You were smiled at him happily as you told him what you had been practicing, and he nearly chocked on his food, laughing. 
“What?” you asked with a frown.
“Do you know what you just said?” He tried his hardest not to laugh too much, but it was just too funny. 
“Yes, i told you that i love you and i’m really happy that we met.” 
He shakes his head immediately. “No babe, you just told me that you love the way i make you scream in bed.” 
The heat rises to your face and you hide you face in embarrassment, groaning. You practiced that line so much and you still got it wrong. 
Jungkook’s hand gently grabs your shoulder, massaging it lightly. “Don’t worry babe! It was just a mispronunciation! You got it right the second time.” He tells you still laughing. 
HOSEOK
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You were all gathered back stage - all the guys and you. It wasn't long until they had to go on stage for their final rehearsal before tonights show.
You were standing in front of Hoseok, listening to him and Jimin having a conversation about one of the dance moves for Fake Love. You aren’t a professional dancer and you have no where near enough experience in that particular field to chime in with you input, but when Jimin asks for your opinion, you answer anyway. 
Jimin looks more and more shocked as your words fills the air between you, his ears turning red and you hear Hoseok sighs in front of you. 
“Why would you say that?” Hoseok asks with a shake of his head. 
“What? What did i say?” 
This time Jimin answers. “You basically just told me that Hoseok hyung loves being tied up in bed.” He snorts, dodging to the side when Hoseok tries to hit him. 
You blush profusely in embarrassment. That was not at all what you had meant to say! 
In a fit of laughter Jimin walks away while Hoseok yells after him, “It’s not true by the way!” 
TAEHYUNG
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You were walk hand in hand with Taehyung down the main street late at night, window shopping as you went along. You passed by a small clothing boutique - one of your favorites, and you stopped, causing Tae to stop as well. 
You pointed at a dress farther back in the store and told him that you were thinking of being it in the yellow version. It was something you had thought about for a while, but you always stopped yourself right before. 
Taehyung gave you a funny look, looking almost skeptical. “I don’t think this store sells vibrators, but if that’s what you want we can always order one online.” 
“What?” you asked him, confused by his sudden talk of vibrators. 
“You just told me, that you wanted to buy a yellow vibrator.”
NAMJOON 
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You loved having dinner with Namjoon and his family. It was a rare occasion and it was always a great time. 
You were seated next to Namjoon at the dinner table, enjoying your food and the great company. Having finished your drink, you asked Namjoon to pass you the water as you held out you hand. 
“What?” he whispered to you, his lips set in a firm line as he looked at you. 
You repeated your previous words to him, his lips remained in a firm line.
The chat around the table was still going as he leaned closer to you and whispered harshly, “Stop talking about wanting to suck my dick in front of my parents,” and the resumed eating his dinner.
“I just wanted some water.” You mumbled. 
SEOKJIN
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It was Saturday night and Jin had invited you to go see a movie. You were excited! You didn't care what movie you would see, you were just excited to finally spend some alone time with your boyfriend after his busy schedule. 
Jin had left it up to you to pick what movie you wanted to see, and you honestly didn't know what movies were out so you waited to buy the tickets at the cinema. 
Once at the cinema, Seokjin asked you if you knew what you wanted to see, and scanning all the options you finally landed on one you thought you would both like. 
You walked up to the man and asked her for two tickets to the movie. 
“Excuse me?” he sputtered in shock just as Jin came rushing up behind you and told him what you’d meant to say. He paid and took the tickets, leading you away with a small smile. 
“What did i say?” You ask him. 
Looking at you over his shoulder he said, “You told him that you really wanted to see his dick.”
“Oh my god!” you gasp and hid your face behind your hand.
“Yes. And if it wasn't for the fact that i know it was just a mispronunciation, i would be mad as hell.”
YOONGI
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The living room was quiet, the only sounds coming from yours and Yoongi's soft breathing, your occasional page turning of the book you’re reading and Yoongi tapping on his phone. 
You have just started reading a new book, the plot so exciting that you don’t even register the answer that leaves you mouth when Yoongi asks what you’re reading. 
You do however register the laugh that comes from him straight after, and you look up from the book in your lap with a questioning look on your face. 
“I didn’t know you’d written a book about that”
“About what?” 
He smirks mischievously, “I didn’t know you’d written a book about how good it feels when i fuck you from the back.” 
“That’s not what i said!” You protest. 
“Oh but it was.” He laughs, clearly please with you mishap. 
JIMIN
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It was movie night at the dorms, but like usual no one really paid much attention to the movie on the tv. It was just an excuse for all of you to gather up and spend some time together once in a while. 
You were all gathered in the living room, all spread out in uneven circle. You were curled up against Jimin's side, snuggled together under a blanket as the laughs flew across the room at one of Jin’s lame dad jokes. 
You wanted to chime in with a joke of your own, and the room immediately went quiet for a few seconds before everyone bursted out in laughter - everyone except Seokjin who looked rather offended. 
"How do you know?” Jungkook questioned you in a fit of laughter. 
“Know what?” 
“How do you know that Seokjin hyung has a small dick?” 
“I said that?” you are shocked by your own words, never meaning to say them.
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I hope you enjoyed this reaction! Thank you for reading a long, and remember to like or reblog if you liked it!
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returnsandreturns · 3 years
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i’m going through all of my google drive accounts and i’ve tried to write a novel with versions of these two ladies four times but i’ve never had a plot, just feelings about them and a general mood
there’s magic going on somewhere in there but i never write fantasy so who knowssssss
---
“I’m going to do it this time,” Casey says, standing underneath the big elm tree that lives outside of Em’s house. She does a few elaborate stretches, nothing they’ve learned in gym class, kind of like what Em’s mom does in front of the TV--cardioaerobics or something. 
Em’s sitting on the little stretch of roof outside her window, her knees curled up to her chest.
“You’re going to break a limb,” she says, matter-of-factly. It wouldn’t be the first limb broken in Casey’s relentless pursuit of glory, whether it was the pinky sacrificed in an arm wrestling match or the leg broken in two places trying to climb out her window last year to go running in the woods. That’s Casey. Her inherent clumsiness and shameless athleticism go hand in hand. 
Casey’s putting her hair up in a high ponytail now before she positions her hands on her hips, Wonder Woman style. 
“Tree limb,” she asks, “or--you know--me limb?” 
“You limb,” Em replies, laughing. “Should I go ahead and call the ambulance now so they’re ready for you?” 
“You used to believe in me,” Casey says, pointing up at her accusingly. “Puberty is ruining you.”
Just the word puberty sends chills up Em’s spine. Her mom avoided giving her the talk until the last possible moment, a really horrible moment where Em tried to sneak a blood-stained pair of underwear into their laundry and her mother caught her and basically dragged her into the living room to teach her about being a woman.  
It’s been two years and Em still hasn’t recovered from hearing her mom use the words pubic hair. She grabs a gummy worm from the bag beside her and tosses it at Casey, missing her by several feet. 
“Weak,” Casey says, not even turning her head, chin tilted up and squinting at the tree through the sun. She does a couple of lunges, some weird wobbly arm movements, and then she takes a breath so deep that Em can practically feel it even from so high up and heads for the tree at a sprint. 
Em holds her breath, doesn’t take her eyes off the surprisingly elegant arc of Casey’s body in a too-big t-shirt and leggings as Casey’s scuffed Keds skid for a half a second in the grass before she leaves the ground. It’s a good jump, a strong start--Casey throws her arms up immediately to grab the closest branch and actually manages to catch it, which is further than she’s gotten since her primary goal in life became Climb Em’s Ancient Tree Guardian. 
It’s just an Elm tree. Em might have been convinced when she was a kid that a little bit of her grandmother’s soul was inside of it and might have told Casey that once when they were younger. Their sleepover talk tended to veer in the direction of I thought for awhile that my grandmother didn’t so much die as she became one with the giant tree in our front yard conversations, rather than the things that girls in movies talk about. She thinks this might be true of lots of girls, but she can’t say for sure.
Casey had nodded like it was the most reasonable thing in the world and refused to enter Em’s house without first greeting her grandmother from that point on, originally with reverence, eventually with hugs. This morning, she had thrown her arms around the trunk and said, voice slipping into something a little more sweet and Southern than usual, “Granny, you’re gonna accept me into your arms today.” 
Casey swings from the branch and her feet scramble against the bark to try to force herself up before she says, “Shit damn,” in one breath and her hands slip. 
Heat flares up underneath Em’s skin. For a second, everything dims except the shine of the sun against Casey’s hair, braids piled up on top of her head. She might not actually hurt herself if she falls, but it doesn’t matter. The world shifts inside Em’s head. Two seconds pass and Casey lands gently on her knees in the grass. 
“Why does she hate me?” Casey asks, sighing dramatically and throwing herself onto her back, not noticing a thing. “Doesn’t she know I’m family?” 
Em draws in a shaky breath before she smiles, throws down another gummy worm that lands on Casey’s bare stomach where her shirt has ridden up. Casey laughs and eats it immediately.
“She’s a tree,” Em says. “She doesn’t know anything.” 
“Don’t talk about your grandmother like that,” Casey says, still laughing. She groans like the weight of the world is on her fourteen-year-old bones as she pushes herself to her feet, pointing a finger at Em. “Don’t move, I’m coming up.” 
“Yes’m,” Em murmurs, leaning back against the wall, her feet dangling over the edge. This is as dangerous as she gets: sitting. 
She can hear the front door open and shut, hear Casey yell, “It’s just me, Ms. Adams,” and Em’s mom yell something back--Casey’s footsteps diverted at the sound. She’s probably going to get some concerned noises about grass stains and the scrapes on her hands where they slid and lost their grip. Em takes deep, deep breaths until her heart finally calms down and Casey’s hands hit the half-closed window, making Em start. 
“Jesus,” she murmurs. 
“Nope, just me,” Casey says, shoving the window open and crawling through it, immediately dropping down to sit next to Em, their arms pressing together. Casey’s skin is sun warm and soft, the sleeves of her t-shirt rolled up and held with safety pins. 
“You okay?” Em asks, turning sideways to eye her up and down. Casey wipes her hands off on her knees before presenting them obligingly, showing faint scrapes on her palms, skin a little swollen.
Em takes one of them and hates the blush that threatens to rise in her cheeks at the touch, dropping it immediately and turning her head back to the house across the street. She’s been blushing a lot lately. With all the things she can control when her heart’s geared in the right direction, she can never stop the blush. 
“You could just get a ladder,” Em says, and Casey tips her head back and laughs and laughs, a little hoarse. Casey’s voice is always just a little hoarse. Em says it’s because she talks too much. 
Casey says it’s because she’s got a lot to say, refuses to accept that it’s the same thing. 
“I’m going to get up in that tree,” she says, a grand declaration, her arms that isn’t shoved up against Em’s arm shooting into the air, “before we’re in high school.” 
It’s July. July 6th, to be exact. Em knows this without looking to check because it’s been two days since the Fourth of July and people are still setting off fireworks, like they bought too many, like they’re just not done celebrating. 
“That’s not an awful lot of time,” Em says. They left middle school behind in the hazy past, one more summer until they became something entirely new. That was the plan, anyway. The last three years have produced a long and varied list of Things We’ll Do Before We’re In High School, and they haven’t exactly done--most of them. Any of them, really. 
“We’ve also gotta get kissed,” Casey says, making a face that Em can see out of the corner of her eye. She turns her head just enough to make the same face back at her. Kissing was on the list, an unfortunate necessity that they both agreed had to be faced head-on. If gossip was to be believed, and they weren’t exactly in a position to question their only source of news, every other girl in their classes has found an appropriate boy-shaped human to touch mouths with by this point. 
“You could just kiss the tree,” Em says, and Casey snorts on a laugh, insinuating an arm around Em’s shoulder so they’re tucked together. 
“She’s too old for me,” Casey says. “I’ll just have to pick someone and go for it.”
“Romantic,” Em says.
“Kissing isn’t romantic, anyway,” Casey says. “It’s just. Wet.” 
“How do you know?” Em asks, smiling sideways at her. 
“It’s basic science,” Casey says. “Lips. Tongues.” 
She sticks hers out at Em, and Em copies her before she turns away again, hiding her face in her knees because, yeah, there’s the blush. It’s always right under the surface, ready to come out and ruin her whole life.
“Tongues,” she repeats, muffled.
“I don’t understand it, either,” Casey says, airily, “but, yeah, tongues.”
Casey’s arm tightens around her, her head tipping to rest against Em’s after Em sits up again. The sun is hot on their heads, and Casey’s skin is warm against hers where they touch, arms and ankles and temples.
“Kissing,” she says. “Safely consume alcohol without getting caught.”
“That’ll be easy,” Em says. Her mom’s got a liquor cabinet--well, it wasn’t made with that intended purpose, but there’s a cabinet in their kitchen that’s close enough--and Casey’s parents are so distracted with her new baby brother that they could do shots in the middle of their living room and they wouldn’t even notice. 
“I want to get in a fist fight,” Casey continues, “but I know how you feel about that.”
“You weigh ten pounds and you will die,” Em says, nodding. Casey laughs.
“So, no fist fighting,” she says. “Unless it comes up naturally.”
“No fist fighting at all.”
7 notes · View notes
missaudreyhorney · 4 years
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(Almost) Every Idea Ever
Although I rarely ever finish writing a fic, that never stops me from getting new ideas for them. Terrible, horrible, dumpster fire ideas. Okay, some of them are wholesome on occasion, but mostly it’s just filth. I've excluded a couple of things because either they were just too awful to mention or I’m currently working on them and I want it to be a surprise.
The first story I started to write this year was original fiction but with the main male character heavily inspired by Jim Hopper. It was about a recently married young woman having an affair with her father-in-law. This really set a precedent for the rest of my ideas and should indicate to you the level of depravity on this list.
Hopper x Reader:
Hurts So Good series - In 1982, Reader is Mayor Kline’s daughter and has a crush on Chief Hopper. She decides to pursue him and things don’t go quite as planned but they still end up having steamy, rough sex. A secret affair begins between the two of them but it eventually leads to heartbreak. Heavy emphasis on Dom/sub and pain kink. - Initial pursuit, fingering in the car, sex (60%) - Phone sex the following day (70%) - Rough sex, bordering on consensual nonconsent (partially written) - Introduction to Daddy kink (notes) - Body worship (notes) - Bruise kink (notes) - Facesitting (50%) - hurt/comfort throatfucking, an argument, angst/fluff (75%) - Orgasm denial/control (70%) - Possible gunplay? (Unwritten) - Disciplinary spanking (notes)
Dress You Up series - In 1985, Hopper meets plus-size!Reader at JCPenney when he comes in to pick out a shirt for his date. After Joyce stands him up, he decides to come back and ask Reader out instead. Probably the cutest idea I’ve ever had for smut. Inspired by flamehairedwritings and flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash. - 1st meeting, 2nd meeting, date, sex (50%) - 2nd date, a continuation of My First Drabble (partially written) - Meeting El and she’s standoffish (notes)
Domestic Smut - Reader and husband!Hopper are at the cabin alone together one weekend. After breakfast, she tries to wash the dishes but the sink is broken, the water squirting everywhere. A water fight turns into a tickle fight which turns into kitchen table sex. (50%)
Hopper blindfolding Reader during sex at the cabin (Notes)
Hopper blindfolding Reader during a blowjob in his office at the police station (Minimal notes)
Hopper rubbing a popsicle on Reader’s body then licking it off (Minimal notes)
Hopper coming over to Reader’s house, unannounced, late at night, in the rain, for a quick rough fuck. Inspired by one of the pictures from the Playboy shoot. (Partially written)
Licking Hopper’s hand and arm veins to get his attention while he reads the Sunday newspaper. (Unwritten)
Sucking Hopper’s cock while he smokes a cigar on the porch and either ignores you or looks at you with disdain. Inspired by a compilation video of David smoking a cigar on Instagram Live. (Unwritten)
Consensual nonconsent fantasy where Hopper touches Reader and tells her to say no to him while he’s making her cum. Rough, forceful sex immediately follows. (Partially written)
Bootlicker - anti-cop Reader has a secret fetish for cops and Hopper is more than happy to oblige them and keep quiet about it. (Notes)
Working out my own personal issues via smut, bigender-questioning AFAB Reader puts on Hopper’s uniform shirt and hat. Much to their delight, he says they look like a boy. He also says “If you’re going to dress like a boy, I’m going to fuck you like one.” Basically just incredible anal sex while Hopper calls Reader a good boy. Extremely niche subject but the fantasy of this is so affirming to me, I can’t not think about it. (Notes)
Hopper x Reader requests
A sequel to Little Magnum where the dog is a few years older. There is maybe also a cat? (Unwritten)
Fire & Ice - Reader is playing in the snow when it’s getting dark outside. Hopper tells them to come in but they don’t listen. Reader falls and hurts their ankle then Hopper gets angry at their disobedience. Not because he’s a jerk, but because he can’t imagine his life without Reader and doesn’t want to lose them. Angsty hurt/comfort. (~70%)
Replacement idea since Fire & Ice was much too angsty - Reader gets stung by a bee and Hopper freaks out. Reader is fine but he babies them nonetheless, because again, his greatest fear is losing them. Very cute and silly. (unwritten)
Freezeframe - Reader bought Hopper a Polaroid camera for his birthday and he hasn’t used it months later. Taking matters into her own hands, she uses the camera for some naughty selfies. Once Hopper finds the pictures, he decides to assume the role of photographer and gets some very intimate shots of Reader. (80-85%)
Morning Wood - Reader lets themself into the cabin early one Summer morning and sees Hopper in bed, fully nude, just a sheet covering the part they want to see most. Hop wakes up, invites Reader into bed with him, and a blowjob ensues. Very detailed description of his body. (Notes)
Hopper gets injured and needs Reader to patch him up. She gets pissed though for him being in yet another dangerous situation where he yet again gets hurt. Reader reprimanding him leads to confessions of feelings which leads to sex. (Unwritten)
Reader has been feeling ignored by Hopper lately and decides to make him jealous to get his attention. She flirts with another man at a bar while Hopper watches and seethes with rage. He punishes her by dragging her into the parking lot then spanking over the tailgate of his Chevy Blazer. Rough sex and more spanking goes down back at the cabin. Based on my jealous!Hopper headcanon post. (Partially written)
Principal Hopper  - One of the worst ideas I’ve ever had, which is saying A LOT. High school principal Hopper catches one of his 18-year-old female students spying on him between classes and confronts her about it. Sexual tension bubbles up until neither of them can control themselves. Based on a fantasy told to me by a friend who I will not name. (Notes)
Hopper x Reader AUs
Messing Around With Jim series - A continuation of The Big Game, Afterschool Special, and Third Time’s A Charm. Modern!Hopper and Reader having all kinds of sex. - Fingering, gentle sex, tender orgasm control (50%) - Period sex, vibrator (Notes) - First blowjob, a continuation of A Sampling (partially written) - Hop eating Reader’s pussy for his birthday (minimal notes) - Fingering in the car, truck bed sex (notes) - Another blowjob, rough sex over the hood of a car (partially written) - Pussy eating at the park (notes) - Hop not understanding FaceTime, fluff, smut (unwritten) - Roleplaying how they met, sex at Reader’s parents house (notes) - July 4th fingering, rough sex, surprises (notes) - Remote control vibrator (partially written) - More pussy eating, this time in Hop’s cutting edge shirt (partially written) - Yet another blowjob, this time in a movie theater (unwritten) - Jealousy resulting in overstimulation/”forced” orgasms (notes) - 4 part miniseries about butt plugs/anal sex (notes) - Confronting her parents, angst (55-60%) - Learning about Sara, ANGST! (notes)
Vacation series - modem!Hopper and Reader go on vacation together. That’s it, that’s the plot. Idea from David’s Croatian vacation pics and conversations with Tayler. All just notes at this point. - Christening the hotel bed - Bratty Reader getting semi-publicly punished - Hopper taking care of drunk!Reader, humor, fluff - Double date
carpenter!Hopper - Reader is recently divorced and hires Hop to make repairs on her house before she sells it. Graphic detail of him doing manly things like sawing and hammering. Porn with plot. Inspired by another friend, she knows who she is. (Notes in the form of a 500-word summary)
Detective Hopper - various bits and pieces of ideas inspired by David being digitally handcuffed to Darren Criss and Michael Stuhlbarg in Vanity Fair, plus a few pictures in 2016. (Unwritten)
Captain Hopper - a collaboration with @pkg4mumtown. She said she was thinking about fire captain!Hopper rescuing her from a burning building and I told her my pre-existing firefighter idea of being saved and then wanting to thank him in a variety of ways. Things snowballed from there and I decided we need to write it. Mostly just notes so far. - Initial meeting, first date, sex - Second date, making dinner together, sex
Hopper x Joyce:
There is a list of my Jopper ideas (Various degrees of notes)
Teenage Joyce and Hopper meeting in high school and their relationship that follows. Maybe a oneshot? Maybe a series? (Notes)
Hopper x Billy: (Over 18-years-old and no longer in high school!)
1940/50’s AU - Hopper meets expat Billy at a cigar club while on vacation in Havana. A familiar face, so to speak, in a foreign land. Hop pays Billy to take him back to his apartment and “keep him company”. Maybe two chapters? Inspired by a photo of Dacre Montgomery in GQ Germany. (Partially written.)
Hopper catches Billy “renting his time” at a truck stop outside of town and threatens to arrest him, but Billy bribes him with sex. (Unwritten.) I’m sorry but there’s just something about the idea of rent boy Billy that I absolutely love.
Hopper + Billy + Reader - completely implausible threeway (Unwritten)
David Harbour RPF:
AU where instead of being an actor, he’s a drama teacher at a high school in New York City and the kids from Stranger Things are his students. Pure fluff. (Please write this for me!)
Giving him a blow job before an important event. TWO different versions. Inspired by numerous photos of David wearing a robe. (Minimal notes)
Riding his thigh and everything that entails. Inspired by a picture of David from GQ Mexico. (Minimal notes)
touch-starved!David hires a sexworker during the pandemic because he’s lonely quarantining by himself. No sex. He literally just wants a hug and someone to be affectionate with him. Unconventional fluff. (Unwritten)
Other DKH-related shenanigans:
Let’s Ride sequel - Reader goes on a second date with Deacon from SoulCycle, they go out for sashimi and end up at his place. He has a cat that he inherited from a neighbor. Reader teaches him how to put her in a chokehold. (Unwritten)
Alexei Shostakov smut - some type of Bond Girl situation where Reader has to seduce him. Just an excuse for me to lovingly describe his large tattooed body in vivid detail. (Unwritten)
The Stranger - Reader has an ongoing affair with a mysterious man whose name is never mentioned. They meet at high society functions and hook up in fancy hotels. One night, he finds out that she’s married and punishes her for her dishonesty. Inspired by a photo of David looking annoyed in a tuxedo. (Notes)
Daddy Dom/little girl roleplay fantasy. Sweet, smutty, and slightly taboo. (Notes)
Daddy’s Little...Helper - Me, as submissive!Reader, watching Daddy jack off right in front of my face after he comes home from work. Based on a conversation with an Instagram friend and a picture of David in the play “Cal In Camo” where he’s holding a beer bottle between his legs. (65%)
Stranger Things x Twin Peaks crossover - Chief Jim Hopper comes to Twin Peaks to help Special Agent Dale Cooper solve some type of paranormal mystery. Perhaps a parallel between The Black Lodge and The Upside Down? I think this would work really really well, but I can’t write it myself. (Please write this for me!)
In conclusion: Yes, I know I need to have my head examined. Yes, I know I spend too much time thinking about Jim Hopper. Let me know if you LIKE these ideas. Please do not let me know if you hate these ideas.
Tagging: @manawhaat @strangest-hour @007swhore @kingphillipblake @david-harbour-arg @misshawkins1993 @oxforddrama 
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deathsmallcaps · 4 years
Text
July’s Story
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My fifteenth Win A Commission contest is Crystal the Wise! If you would like to see my version, and see all my drawings together, please
There once was a gentleman who had quite a daughter. Whatever her teachers gave her to learn, she gobbled up. Foreign languages, geography, so—all were unspeakably easy for her. And mathematics! She could add up columns of figures far better than her father’s accountants could. Before long, she could have taken their place.
When Crystal (for so she was called) grew a bit older, the neighboring children came over to ask her to explain the problems their tutors had set. Soon everyone came to learn from her. In time, word of this reached the king. He wrote to the young woman, saying, “My son is nearly grown, but my daughter has trouble with her lessons, and needs a teacher who could make her understand. Will you come and stay with us for a few months?”
Crystal was delighted to do so. When she arrived at the palace, the king, queen, and princess greeted her warmly. The prince, however, sulked like a little child. He had offered to tutor the princess himself, but the king had said, “You’re too impatient. I have found someone else who can do a better job than you can.”
Over the next few weeks, the prince sat in the back of the classroom and contradicted Crystal whenever she spoke. His interruptions grew more and more frequent. Still, Crystal continued to teach, because she liked the little princess and wanted her to do well. Tired of being ignored, the prince stood up one day and said, “This isn’t how I learned it. Everything you’re teaching my sister is wrong.” Crystal walked right up and slapped him! After that, the prince kept away from her lessons.
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When the time came for Crystal to leave, the prince went to his parents.
“I’m grateful for all Crystal taught me, and after all, she’s the cleverest woman in the kingdom. May I have your permission to marry her?” The king and queen eagerly agreed, and Crystal also accepted, figuring it was a good marriage. She hadn’t realized she was worth more. 
After the wedding, the prince took his bride to a secluded cottage deep in the forest. As she was changing into her nightclothes, he came in and said, “Well, Crystal, are you ready to apologize for slapping me?”
“Apologize? I was right to slap you! And I’ll do it again if you keep on about it.” Crystal didn’t enjoy violence but knew when to defend herself.
“Is that so?” the prince snarled. He and a couple servants dragged her down to the cellar, where he thrust her through a trapdoor, into a little cell under the floorboards. There was a bed and a table and almost nothing else. In the morning, he asked her if she’d changed her mind, but she said no. Every day he came down and demanded she repent. Every day she refused, despite knowing her chances of survival were diminishing rapidly in such a dangerous situation. She had tried to run away when he first grabbed her, but even her considerable talents were no match against ten armed men. 
Crystal grew weary of her imprisonment, but there was no way she would apologize. One day, she noticed a corner of her cell was blowing air, due to a spider’s web flying into her face. She blessed the spider for alerting her, tand investigated the hole. There, she discovered a rushing underground stream. She dug a hole big enough to squeeze through, and managed to swim all the way to her father’s house.
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Her father was appalled to find out how she’d been treated. “I’ll see the king immediately.”
“Oh, no, don’t,” Crystal said. “Just dig a tunnel into my cell and bring me some decent food, and of course, my books. The prince only lowers bread and water.” And Crystal swam back to her cell with the prince none the wiser.
At last, he grew tired of her refusals and called down, “I’m going to Paris to enjoy myself. I’ll have a servant feed you while I’m having fun.”
“Go ahead,” she called back cheerfully. 
As soon as the prince had left, Crystal bribed the servant to stop lowering bread and water, telling him to lie to the prince should he come back. She ran to her father and, with plenty of money from him, hurried to Paris, formulating a brilliant plan to ruin him forever with her father. There she disguised herself as a girl named ‘Marie’ and bought a house next to her husband’s. 
She then forged a letter to the prince’s parents, explaining that ’Crystal’ had died en route to Paris, and that he was going to mourn for a while. Somewhere in the back of her head, she knew this was a dangerous course of action, and very unhealthy emotionally. But she was SO angry.
Then, each day, she drove out in her carriage behind four white horses. Her gown was thick with embroidery, and her fan was trimmed with delicate lace, and she adopted a beautiful Parisian accent. When the prince saw her, he was dazzled by her beauty, though he didn’t recognize her in Parisian fashions. He began courting her, and wedded ‘Marie’ inside a month, never mentioning, of course, that he had another wife back home. Nor did he notice her glittering intellect, and thought her a dumb but lovely creature.  Nine months later, she gave birth to twins, a girl and a boy. Since Crystal had learned a bit, she made the prince sign a contract, vowing the children would be his heirs. He signed it, thinking it would be invalid, for she had drawn it up herself and he thought her stupid. He was mistaken. 
Three years passed. Then the prince told her he had been summoned home, but didn’t tell her it was for a new marriage. He didn’t know that this third bride had been set up by Crystal’s father. Feeling bored with his (supposedly) new and beautiful wife, he agreed to return home and decided to leave Crystal and his children behind. 
Returning home, the prince hurried to the cottage but discovered the cell empty. The servant told him Crystal had died of loneliness, so the prince thought he was in the clear. 
His family got him all set up for the wedding, disallowing him to meet his match, claiming superstition. When the day finally came, he said the vows, and everyone cheered. He raised her veil, and saw Crystal grinning triumphantly back at him. His children toddled out from the audience, and he knew he was in trouble.
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Stunned to see his triply-wed wife, the prince knelt down before the court and begged her forgiveness. But it turned out, she didn’t have to forgive him. 
Her father produced the contract proclaiming the children as the prince’s heirs and a written account of what had passed by Crystal verified by many sources, including the servant who was supposed to feed her. Disgusted by their son, the King and Queen banished him and stripped him of his personal land, money and title, immediately giving them to Crystal. She and her family promptly lived happily ever after. 
My Notes
Now, you may not have noticed, but this story? Extremely messed up. I mean, this woman is degraded and goes on the biggest revenge plot I’ve ever seen a female character do in a fairy tale. She even has revenge babies! They are going to have a pretty messed up childhood. 
Why did I choose Crystal the Wise? Well, for three reasons. 
One, I heard it on, you guessed it, the Myths and Legends podcast. I really liked his rendition, but I did NOT want to type the whole thing out (I did that with a different story of his that I’m going to give to a different little cousin). I found this version online. And this all happens in the story! Crystal is just that machiavellian, and I applaud her! I kind of wish she didn’t feel like she had to continue having relations with her abuser, or to change herself so completely, but she really hit him with the ol’ one-two, and I like it when people can dole out justice like that. Hopefully she had someone to talk to afterwards? Also its pretty problematic the King and Queen did not realize how much of a little creep they raised to be their heir. 
Two, I realized I hadn’t done a story from South America yet! I realize its definitely a more modern story, with less ties to the Native people of Chile (btw the royal family of Chile isn’t a real thing), but I really liked it. 
Three, I was looking up the Aymara people of Chile for unrelated reasons when I realized I would love to draw the women! I don’t know what the textile industry over there is like, but it must be pretty entrenched in the culture, because they have so many pretty patterns and colors in their everyday wear! Combined with the bowler hats (legend has it that a shipment of bowler hats made it to Chile just when they went out of style, so the haberdashers marketed them to women!) with all the lovely flowers added on, I was excited! So I wanted to draw an Aymara girl. 
Now that I’ve explained that, I’d like to explain my drawings. They weren’t as full of background as some of my other drawings, but trust me, I put a lot of effort into them! I had a kabillion reference pictures.
The title is not based off of any movie logo I’ve seen, for once. Rather, it is based a bit off of the ACDC logo. I was working one day, when someone with that logo on his shirt came up to the register. I was inspired! So I quickly sketched out a sort of geometric, sort of lightning-bolt-esque title in between customers. And I liked it!
The second picture, the slap, was a difficult one for me. It combined an unusual perspective, unusual clothing, and unusual face shapes for me. As you’ve seen with my art, and maybe with your own art, it is often very easy to have a character face you and not interact with another object or person, You can’t really have that happen with a slap. 
This story is supposed to be set in the early 1700s, when Paris was very in vogue. But as I really wanted to draw a modern Aymara woman, I did play little fast and loose with the fashion. There isn’t too many reference pictures for old Chilean fashion. I had to reach a little. Which led me to using a more European style of dress for the Prince. And this is the only time you get to see *Crystal dress in a way that is normal and comfortable to her. This is an important ‘theme’ of the story - sorry to go all English class on you!
*Just remembered that Crystal is not a very Spanish-sounding name. I’ve never found the story outside, even when I try to look it up in Spanish, so some part of me is worried that someone made it up and pretended it was Chilean. Please let me know if you find anything. 
Their faces are different than what I’ve drawn before. As you can see on the prince’s face, he has serious acne. I’m not trying to demonize acne, but I decided that he’s one of those boys who hates getting clean and despite literally everyone telling him so, will not stop touching his face and causing acne. I went through a stubborn phase like that. But I also wanted to show how young and already so privileged the guy is. I really wanted to make him annoying. Crystal also has a bit of acne, to show her youth, but what really makes her face different than my usual fare is the fact she has a mole, never gets to smile of joy in my illustrations, and she is plump. I have a tendency to draw skinny characters I’m trying to get rid of as an artist -  I want to be able to draw everyone, anyone. And i think she turned out quite pretty!
Third picture, the cave, was again sort of a challenge. I wasn’t sure at the beginning how to place Crystal so you could sort of see the hole that leads into her room, while also showing her climbing down and the underground waterways she is going to enter. And as you’ve might’ve seen before, when I draw caves and rocks, all I think of is really ‘geometry’ but in the way the guy in this meme thinks of aliens (look up history channel aliens if you don’t know).
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But I guess I did it? As for Crystal, you can tell she’s uncomfortable, she’s skinnier in an unhealthy way and colder than before, her hair isn’t in the customary braids but in a crappy bun to keep it off her face, and her dress is in tatters. Not a happy camper, and understandably so.
Last picture, Crystal’s wedding dress, was sort of hard in a different way, again! I decided early on I wanted to base her dress off of Elizabeth’s wedding dress from Pirates of the Caribbean: Dead Man’s Chest. But I had to draw that while Crystal was holding her two kids on her hips, and smirking. I think I managed it, though. I think it’s interesting to note that the look epitomizes the kind of person she had to emulate while tricking the prince; a meek, european-mimicking little wifey. Totally different than the person she really is, the person she is illustrated to be in the first picture. 
Anyways, I hope you guys enjoyed that! Another problematic story will be the one for next month! Thanks for reading!
@boopboopboopbadoop​
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mindlcssartist · 4 years
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is that [LAURA HARRIER]? no, that’s just [ADELAIDE 'ADDIE' ATKINS]. [SHE] is [TWENTY-SEVEN] years old and is a [B&B OWNER]. rumor has it they’ve been in town for [FOUR YEARS]. on a good day, they’re [RESILENT & ALOCENTRIC]. but watch out! they can also be [DECEITFUL & TACITURN]. [GROWING PAINS BY ALESSIA CARA] plays in my head whenever i think of them. can’t wait to see them around springhill!
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tw: child neglect, arson, cheating.
hello hello hello! you all can call me g and i invited myself to this party to introduce to you my baby addie SO, without further ado, let’s do it shall we?
H I S T O R Y
Adelaide Atkins Savoy is the daughter of Edward Atkins, an English salesman/conman and Ann Savoy, a French teacher that came from a (somewhat) noble family.
The Atkins family moved to Peachtree, Georgia from England when Addie was five years old after a business initiated by Edward, her father, went awry with the Savoys. Addie’s grandpa, who probably lost the most out of the business con but loved Addie to no end and wanted her grandkid to have a decent life, decided to fly the Atkin-Savoy family and bought them a wonderful, luxurious home on Addie’s name.
Her childhood was… an odd one, to say the least. Her parents still acted like they were part of the Savoy family while in Georgia (and with the housing/jobs Addie’s grandpa got them, there was no reason to doubt them) so they fit perfectly with Georgia’s finest, they were living a double life of sorts, socialités in debt who schemed their wealthiest friends without them knowing. Her parents promptly got Addie to work alongside them, either as a distraction or as an active asset in their plans and she couldn’t quite deny her skills to them alas, Addie did stuff she wasn’t proud of, illegal stuff she could get away with because no one suspected the little girl with the ponytails.
Edward Michael Atkins Savoy, Addie’s younger brother was born when Adelaide was around eleven. Ann lost interest on Eddie pretty quickly so Addie pretty much raised the kid as well as she could after she turned thirteen. The two formed an unbreakable bond very quickly.
She learned many skills during her time with her parents: pick locking, html, pickpocketing, boxing, sewing (which served the young woman well when her parents decided to stop buying their kids clothes and she started making them for the two of them instead), whatever her parents required of her and whatever she could learn to make sure her brother was well taken care of, she’d learn.
CHILD NEGLECT TW The worst instance of their parents neglecting both Addie and Eddie happened right after Eddie turned five. Their friends found out about how the couple had played them and the Atkins family lost all respect within the community, so they quickly started to go in debt with banks and strangers to try to live the life Ann and Edward were so used to. By this time, the matrimony had mostly forgotten their kids to the point where they stopped providing for them unless they needed Adelaide for some job, so it was all Addie’s responsibility to not only care for her brother but her parents somehow. She started working (an honest job) when she was fourteen and never truly stopped.
ARSON TW when Addie was seventeen, one year from graduating high school Edward and Ann made a decision: they needed money to pay off credit debts and alas, they needed to burn down the house the Savoys had bought for the family because they needed the insurance money. Addie started to storage as many stuff as she could when she was informed of what was going to happen (was guilt-tripped into staying silent) and the night her parents actually burnt the house down, Addie grabbed Eddie, everything she had gathered, a car a friend had lend to her and flee Peachtree, the two siblings didn’t look back. Adelaide didn’t finish High School.
After the two siblings escaped Peachtree, they situated in Arkansas for about a year, where Addie worked around two, three jobs in order to take care of herself and Eddie. No longer after a friend encouraged her to give her testimony (and all the proof she had gathered that backed up the claim that the fire had been premeditated) and she put her parents in jail for arson and child neglect, gaining her brother’s full custody and whatever money was left from the insurance payment.
The Atkins have lived in: Florida, North and South Carolina, Virginia, Pennsylvania, Illinois, Indiana, Maine, New York and now New Jersey, always trying to make a home out of these places to no avail.
In one of these cities, Adelaide met a dark, mysterious man who she quickly fell in love with when she was no more than twenty-three years old and for the first time in her life, she opened her heart and mind, fully, to someone else other than her brother and close friends. However, not everything was a fairytale: it didn’t take long until Addie discovered the man she had fallen in love with was engaged to be married to another woman, and their relationship ended as abruptly as it started, leaving her completely shattered and heartbroken and thus, the Atkins siblings arrived to their final destination: Springhill because it was their next point in the map. they’ve lived in the city for a little over four years now.
After working as a waitress/bartender/cook/whatever she could get to make a living for her and Eddie, Addie got a letter from the Savoy family one day with the news that her grandfather had died and had left behind a trust fund for her, enough money for the two siblings to live off comfortably for the rest of their lives. However, the oldest decided to only use enough to buy a nice house for the two of them and to open a modest, lovely b&b, their major source of income. They have a nice life.
She and Eddy don’t really talk about their past a lot, unless any of the parts truly trust the person they tell their story to.
P E R S O N A L I T Y
Most days, Addie is one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet, the kind of girl who smiles at everyone she meets and greets strangers with a smile on the daily. She likes making people around her happy. She thrives when people around her shine.
However, she can be very closed off and go as far as to be very deceitful? I mean, she is sharp, even though people don’t think she is because they write her off as a “southern belle” type, but what most people don’t know is she can be cunning whenever she sets her mind on it, she learned from a very young age how to take advantage of everything she had to get what she had her mind settled on.
The one thing she cares the most about in the world is her brother, Eddie. The boy is pretty much her own and has been since the day he was born, she would stop at nothing to make sure he is fine and he is happy.
Her hobbies include painting and sculpting (which she makes some money off of), gardening (the Atkins sibling’s home is a glorified zen garden by now) and designing (she sometimes uses this skill to make clothes for selling to friends and acquaintances).
She has fleeting relationships that never take to anything serious (committing issues plus a ton of other issues let’s be honest), but it doesn’t mean she isn’t opposed to the idea. She simply believes it’s not in her destiny to find the one.
Loyal to no end, good god. It takes a lot for her to feel comfortable with someone to call them her friend but once she does, she is the most loyal friend. Also the mom friend, no matter how close you are. If it’s even a little bit chilly outside and she sees a stranger shivering she WILL give them her sweater, has medicine and candy on her at all times.
She can be quite impetuous and extremely curious to the verge of being noisy, but never in a malicious way, unless you mess with someone she cares about.
Whatever you throw her way, she’ll land on her feet.
P L O T S (*will be a wc on main)
Ex-boyfriend*: There could be many ways to go with this, many reasons why he never told her he was engaged in the first place or why he lead her to believe he was equally in love with her, but boy do we love the angst in this household and I would love to see what this connection could bring.
Best friend: Either the best friend who help the Atkins while the lived in Georgia (preferably) or a new friendship they’ve built in the years they’ve been in Springhill Addie would be nothing without this person. She trusts them more than her own shadow and would kill for them in a heartbeat.
Foreign cousins: Maybe someone seeking vengeance because of what Addie’s father did to the family? Maybe they don’t even know they are related, everyone loves having someone you can tell “well, now i know where the craziness comes from”.
Muse: Whenever she’s stressed or just… inspiration strikes, Addie calls this person to either use them as a model or a canvass. She has every line of their body engraved on her memory and she still finds them fascinating and could spend hours painting them. We can discuss what shape this plot could potentially take.
People she works for: Either her art or the clothes she makes, I’d love to write about any of those.
Hook-ups: past, present, ended in good terms, ended in bad terms, one-sided infatuations that couldn’t go over due to Addie’s commitment issues… I want it all!
Possible love interest who will make her want to commit for once and open her heart again??????
Friends, enemies, neighbors… just love my baby, she and Eddie will love you back!
Okay, wow, if you made it through… honestly bless you and you deserve a freaking award. if you read this mess (i literally haven’t slept AT ALL because i wanted to binge the politician and idk if it makes any sense) and you still wanna plot, hmu of like this post and i’ll come to you!
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unstoppablepjm · 5 years
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My Ultimate Jikook Fic Rec Part 1
Hello everyone~
Finally! I’ll be starting my kookmin/jikook fic rec. This has taken quite a while and I have over 500 fics to share 😭I’ll be dividing my posts into different parts and hopefully when I read new ones, I can start posting them separately.
So again, some disclaimers before we start!
Most of the fics I read involve some pretty heavy tags and almost always involve smut (lmao sorry, I’m a heathen what can I say)
With that said, READ THE TAGS FOR EACH FIC. Remember kids: dead dove don’t eat. 
This compilation will include: one-shots (c*mshots hekhek), chaptered, on-going, completed, and discontinued (yes, sadistic i know).
There may be some fluff recs here. But don’t count on it.
I'll cut the summaries as much as I can so that you won't get the whole block of text some writers include ksjdkjs
Again, and I will not stress this enough, don’t come at me if there are fics with dubious tags. I am a pretty open-minded reader and I’ve read my sizeable share of dark, disturbing fics so if you see tags not for you, move along.
I won't tag side ships unless they're tagged as the main relationship too
Also, I’ll intersperse some personal comments/observation if I feel like it. Usually I have these if a fic is particularly good or if I love how it's written  😊
Here's the link to my previous fic rec post: My Ultimate Jikook One-shot Fic Rec
OKAY, LET’S GET IT!
You are my home | On-going (15/?) | by: Erika1694
Summary: Jungkook is an awkward guy who befriends his next door neighbour Taehyung. Things go well until Taehyung introduces him to Jimin after which Jungkook's world turns upside down and he starts questioning everything including his sexuality.
His Pup | On-going (7/?) | by:Cho_Ha
Summary:Park Jimin must be going crazy because there was no way this disheveled looking guy was the cute little puppy he used to feed everyday after his night shift at the restaurant. Or Park Jimin feeds a puppy and meets a naked-ass dude.
Eden Afterworld | On-going (22/?) | by:Hadefex
Summary:Driven by rage over the public execution of his law abiding parents, Jimin enters the elite military district under the guise of being a prized Omega Positive to come face-to-face with the one person he hates more than himself - High Commander Jeon Jungkook. In a world where being Neutral is about as useless as being dead, how far is Jimin willing to go to get revenge?
Comment: i LOVE the writer's big mind. this is ot5 before jikook happens tho ehehe so if ur not down with that, skip
My Honey, You Taste So Sweet | On-going (7/?) | by:MyHope (CutesyMe)
Summary:Where Jimin only wants to find his soulmate but there is a war threatening him every second of his life
PHASES | On-going (2/?) | by:disneykoo
Summary:It was 4:30pm on a sunny friday evening in the middle of Seoul with nobody noticing that Park Jimin, son of CEO Park Jaemin, got kidnapped in the span of 15 seconds.
Typhon.exe | On-going (5/?) | by:kookiepeach
Summary:When grey hat hacker Jeon Jungkook sees Park Jimin at a party, all he wants to do is find out just a little bit more.
Your heartbeats told me | Completed (27/27) | by:Linn_Linn
Summary:What starts off with hate, soon turns to something else as Jimin and Jungkook begin to meet in secret. But what happens when secrets no longer can be kept? Friends comes and goes, but what about soulmates?
Comment: OMG I LOVE THIS FIC SM!! the gay awakening, the jk POV, the character development, the twists UGH! love it
Stockholm Syndrome | On-going (9/15) | by:expensive_latTae
Summary:“P-please, I’m sorry, let me go!” “You’re mine now. I’ll only let you go in death Angel.” Jimin never understood the Jeon Mafia’s Heir’s twisted obsession with him, and when did the pulsing pain under his skin and the artificial cage he was locked up in become a sign of love.
Comment: I'm interested to see where this goes. Hopefully the writer hasn't abandoned this yet
I Want Your Heart, Not Just Body | On-going (27/?) | by:IlovewritingJikook
Summary:When his village is attacked, Jimin is captured made a slave where he is bought on a whim as a birthday gift, and his life takes a drastic turn. Third Prince, Jungkook receives a surprising birthday gift- a beautiful, human named, Jimin. But Jungkook has no use for a personal slave, however, Jungkook has no choice but to keep him. The Two find friendship and love when they least expect it but can love between a vampire and a slave survive the lies, deceit, and betrayal that looms around every corner of the palace?
Kindred | On-going (2/?) | by:serendiplini
Summary:Jeon Jeongguk, heir of the illustrious Jeon Enterprises, is sent to a sleepy lakeside town to stake out a location for a new shopping mall. Unfortunately, his search quickly reaches a dead end—literally—when he learns the previous owner of the property has passed away with an iron grip on the deed to the land. Luckily for him, it just so happens that his eccentric innkeeper Park Jimin has a way of communicating with the dead. For a price, of course.
Soul Mates | On-going *Abandoned?* (8/?) | by:SomewhereAnywhere
Summary:Jeon Jeongguk, heir of the illustrious Jeon Enterprises, is sent to a sleepy lakeside town to stake out a location for a new shopping mall. Unfortunately, his search quickly reaches a dead end—literally—when he learns the previous owner of the property has passed away with an iron grip on the deed to the land. Luckily for him, it just so happens that his eccentric innkeeper Park Jimin has a way of communicating with the dead. For a price, of course.
the heart of a siren | Completed (16/16) | by:namakemono
Summary:Beware of what you take from the sea. She is not a treasure to be plundered, but a dark, vast void that will swallow you up and think nothing of it.
Comment: What a damn wonderful fic. The merman!JM fic I've always wanted to read. Loved the writing, the plot and how each character was portrayed.
Blood, Love & Tears | On-going *Abandoned?* (9/?) | by:Iamconfusion
Summary:You would think Jimin's life is like any other broke, 23 years old university student.
He has the craziest bestfriends.
He works a waitersjob at a highclass club.
He caught the interest of Jeon Jungkook.
Maybe it’s not so ordinary afterall.
This is Another Jikook Mafia au.
Comment: I hate that the writer seems to have abandoned this but good lord this fic is HOT.
The Lost Kingdom of Crows | On-going (7/10) | by:Priska
Summary:Jimin, who belongs to the widely spread kingdom of swans, falls in love with the youngest heir of a small noble family despite knowing they can never be. Jungkook, the youngest and wildest Prince of the crows, doesn't care about rules and restrictions. Wars and politics. He wants Jimin anyway. He wants him, even if it results in a curse that'll follow them through time and into a different reality.
Comment: Cute fic.
Life As a Beta | On-going (4/?) | by:lapetitemortjm
Summary:“Who wanted to present as a Beta?” Park Jimin had shit for luck when his unrequited love happened to be Jeon Jeongguk, an Alpha.
Dark Paradise | Completed (13/13) | by:makimonojjk
Summary:Park Jimin has life sorted. He does. He has a good job, a lovely wife and two beautiful kids. When he starts working at one of the most dangerous prisons in Seoul, he begins to question many of his life choices. When a certain inmate, Jeon Jeongguk, gets into his head and makes him rethink his whole life he knows he's in big trouble.
Comment: I enjoyed this fic sm. I loved the unique setting and ohhh myy JM is so hot in this one.
Arrangement Null And Void | Completed (15/15) | by:Holymotherofduck
Summary:Jungkook is the prince of the north. Dutiful to his position and passionate about his kingdom. When his parents announce they have found him a partner he is not surprised it is a member of the south kingdom. They had spoken for years on a union between the two sides of their country. What he does not expect is for that person to be a prince, in the same position he is and with the same passion. Prince Park Jimin. Unfortunately their views differ greatly and Jungkook has little respect for the south's soft approach, but Jimin is a prince just like him and will not stand by and let him have his way.
Comment: Nice plot progression.
Nemesis: Love | Completed (18/18) | by:AttilaTheHun
Summary:Park Jimin works hard, and everyone knows it. His boss likes him, his coworkers adore him, and he knows it's just a matter of time until he graduates from the ranks of the desk farm and into something better. All he has to do is conquer every single feeling of inadequacy he's ever had. Simple enough. Job-stealing newcomer Jeon Jeongguk doesn't seem to work for much of anything at all, and he's more than arrogant enough for them both. But he's certainly well-connected, tall and rich and good at everything. Jimin hates him on sight, and by the end of the first week he's sure they're eternal enemies. And sure, Jeongguk may be cute, even hot underneath his suits, but Jimin doesn't care about that. Not at all.
Comment: They say this is the must-read office!KM fic.
The Scent of Lemons | Completed (1/1) | by:Portent
Summary:There's Jimin, a dog, a duck and a tree. There's Jungkook, a little prejudiced, a little clueless and a whole lot gorgeous. Then there's this thing called love. Sometimes it hits like a truck and sometimes it blows like a gentle breeze.
Comment: The writing is awesome! This fic is too cute for words and literally JM is so cute here with his lil pets :D
a dose of salt | On-going (9/10) | by:Daisyjjang
Summary:Park Jimin is a renown cardiothoracic surgeon—a genius, a medical prodigy, the best surgeon at the hospital. He’s kind, friendly, handsome, and patient. He’s also the son of the hospital’s Chairman. But nobody needs to know that since he’s worked for and earned everything he’s accomplished on his own without the help of nepotism. Everyone loves him. Everyone but Jeon Jungkook, the hot new military trauma surgeon straight out of the army. The decorated veteran is brilliant and quick witted, but has a hot temper and absolutely zero tolerance for bullshit. When Park Jimin makes a bad first impression on him, things get extremely salty between the two very different personalities.
Comment: From one of my fave twitter AU writers, she never disappoints. The medical!KM fic y'all should read. Don't be bothered by the remaining chapter, I think it's only an epilogue to the story anyway.
Okay, this is it for now! I'll create part 2 in a while. Let me know if you loved any of these! Enjoyyy! Thanks!!
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shippyboi · 4 years
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Kiddney patch Notes, as a treat.
I know i haven't posted any of my writings in like, ages, but i was looking over my Kiddney patch notes. Basically me and @shikkearu (my bestest finnish lady in a box) were talking about Kiddney and she oh so graciously gave me these that i was talking of.
Quickly before i paste it.
-A few characters mentioned are like fill in ocs/side jokes
-Its an AU. Set in modern day Finland. Thanks.
-since this is a conversation thats why its formatted like this.
Enjoy lads
Kiddney
- Idiots love each other but are like "buh buh age gap"
-"why would she want a little boy :("
-"who wants an old lady :("
-bickering every chance they get
-kidd bumming in her restaurant atleast 3 days out of the week
Kiddney
-Bonney acts like she's in her forties compared to Kidd because she doesn't understand that just because she met him in highschool when she was a young adult and gained a crush on him as an adult isn't predatory
-Kidd has wanted to bang since he met her at 17
-Kidd was probably an orphan that got out of the orphanage at 18 and that explains some of his flaming anger issues
Also the first one looks bad, when he was an adult she wasn't perving on him as a kid
-Kidd has been told throughout his life he'd be a woman beater and it scares him that he has real feelings for someone
-Bonney tries to act like she hates him but it backfires all the time (especially when she gets drunk which is a lot.)
-Idea that we could use; Bonney might have like a binge eating disorder (or possible bulimia considering she eats a lot all at once) that we could reveal slowly
-Bonney's parents are really traditional and she feels bad that she doesn't wanna get married (kidd eventually just makes them rings and they wear them.)
-Kidd is very territorial (this is in ways like watching his friends get hurt, telling all his friends s.o. s not to hurt them or else, and getting pissy when a male breathes in Bonney's direction.)
-Kidd knows it's wrong but he can't find out how to stop. He just is really close to all of them and he can't stand the thought of any of them getting hurt
- Kidd is a manly mans man and he is proud. He makes weapons out of everything and breaking into his house would be like breaking into a military base
-Bonney is pretty tomboyish and has a hard time meshing with girls (one reason she really wants to become Perona's friend.)
-Her personality is really brash and all
-infact both of theres is
-Bonney always feels bad for being mean to him but since she feels like a creep for her feelings she doesn't know what to do
-Bonney is prideful, so is Kidd. If you doubt her at all she'll mcfreaking wreck you by doing so damn good
-Bonney consults Hawkins a lit since they are the same age but in two different levels of maturity
-Side note: Basil loves all his friends and is ready to be all of their big brother. 
-Kidd and her eventually at the same time pull a 'fuck it i can't deal with this anymore.' And it goes like this
-'i love you!'
-'i love you!'
-
-
- 'u sure'
- 'ye'
-Kidd and Bonney actually end up hunting and fishing together
-They have probably made out in a deer stand
-They have a place to smoke meats and boy do they
-Kidd will eat straight off his knife
-Bonney really likes his house. Its unique and very outdoorsy
-kidd's crew could be his orphanage mates, especially like Killer
-Kidd is a mix between goth bf and country bf and that's really sexy of him
-Bonney's parents probably hate him
-Kidd definitely has silently loathed Law from the start
-Kidd has probably been arrested at least once
-Bonney learned to cook from her aunt
-Bonney is constantly angry that people she cooking as a girls only thing
-"DON'T LOOK AT ME I'M STRESS COOKING *Tastes* NOT ENOUGH S A L T"
-Bonney is a power bottom not up for discussion
-A lot of people think Bonney's a lesbian
-Kidd really loves Bonney's cooking and that's his guise to bum at her restaurant
-Kidd can actually cook pretty well and has got up to make her breaky and its cute
-Angry sex? Happens more than you think
-They are both ticking time bombs
-not towards each other to everyone else
That's everything that hit me. I'll wait a bit for extra bits
-kidd definitely goes and checks on the kids he left behind. He's big bro
-Bonney lived close to hicktown 👀 (oh my god, what if her mom is hicklady.)
My mind won't stop on kidd.
Imagine this. 16 year old Kidd. Went fishing  and brought back a bunch of fish. Gets told to throw them out. Tells them to bite his ass and goes into a secluded spot to make a fire and cooks the fish and then younger kids come out hungry and he feeds them the whole time having a "iim so damn done" Look on his face.
I gotta document it now before i forget lol
Kidd probably is salty at religion like; where were my damn parents and why did i get to watch all my friends leave. Why did i have to deal with the shitty adults who looked after us >:(
We get to develop hick lady. Bonney isn't religious in my eyes but she knows how to fake it
Kidd's parents probably dropped him off on the orphanage steps. Then he got neglected by the caretakers then the people he made friends with got adopted. His family are the younger kids that never got adopted as he grew up and eventually left. He still checks on em.
Kidd lives out in the boonies so he can weld in peace. He is the only welder prolly in the area (also prolly has some skill as an electrician.) So he makes good money. He might be with a company as well but idk how to set that up. 
It's sorta like Armstrong's house placement.
His house is kinda small. One bedroom one bath, stone floors. A fireplace. And basic appliances. And he only has one door for the outside so cold doesn't creep in. The rest are curtains to his rooms. He uses his fireplace and space heaters. Has a king size bed to cry alone in. And lights. His living room is pretty big. His kitchen is average. He definitely has hung up deer heads and prolly stuffed ducks he killed. He probably has a hunting dog that lives inside with him. Its a lot of gray and brown. He has a bear skin rug and he's proud of it.
He's got himself a place outside so he can smoke meats. And a furnace and anvil and all that in a building right next to his smoke house. It's all connected. A wooden porch he built. He probably has a lake in his backyard.
Like i'm thinking he bought a shitty house and a chunk of land and spent a fortune making it how he likes it. Which took a long time.
Bonney probably has a small apartment close to her restaurant. She has to spend a lot of money on rent and pay. But it's a pretty popular place. She's a good ol chef of course. Again she lived in hicktown and moved to the big city ™.
She rarely talks to her parents (i think her dad planted an image of a woman in her head and it made her bulimic.)
And even though Bonney is pretty and such she has major self confidence issues. Because her dad and her mom just let it happen. But she sees them on holidays coz her other family is there. And the only one who doesn't judge kidd hard at first glance is her aunt. Family holidays are drudges for both of them
Lets develop hick lady holidays will always be fun.
I guess she sorta looks like old ass lady Bonney and her dad is op background character 7
Also; Kidd has two dogs. A fully inside dog that's a small little basset hound and then his hunting dog which is a curr. He loves them both
Also they prolly stay like a week- three days on big holidays and hick lady is like "You aren't sleeping in the same room."
Kidd: look lady i've been trying to get to this status for years fuck you
I wanna name her dad James so his family calls him JJ and Kidd's like "What grown man goes by jj" And Bonney's like "just look away."
I think we have a solid plot to start with. And i got the lore pretty well.
The plot is basically~
Kidd and Bonney have a mutual crush on each other but both don't realize and have some perceptions that aren't true (Kidd scared of love coz of what he's been told, thinking he's too immature, Bonney thinking she is too old, not thinking she is a 'real' girl.). They are kinda aggressive to each other (especially bonney) to try and ward their emotions off. Until they eventually both just crack and are shook ™
And we got lil side things. Anger issues. Her eating disorder. His mommy and daddy issues. Her family problems ect.
Hannah
Ina
Connie
Kayla
Lois
Annie
Daisy
Yennifer
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strangetowngazette · 4 years
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Well. We’re here. Never thought I’d make it. Oh, I should introduce myself. I’m Artanis, and I guess I’ve been chosen as heir. Azure sat down and explained what it meant with me. I can’t say I’m overly thrilled, but it is what it is. We arrived at 8 am on the lawn of a tiny plot of land we bought from La Fiesta Tech. Unforatuntly, I guess I pissed of the RNG Goddess, because the clothes I grew up in should be a war crime. Arthas was much better; but not very fitting for the middle of the desert.
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I invited Alison to come to college with back when we were still teens. I’m really happy she’s here; she’s a bit odd at times, maybe a little crazy, but I think it works with this family. 
We managed to scrounge around 50k, with scholarships and tvs tucked away in our inventories. With this we built a modest house. I thought we’d start in the dorms, but I suppose that would be too easy.
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Arthas, before he found out I was heir, moved in his NPC squeeze; a mail girl whose name I can’t remember. Was it Carla? Who cares. She didn’t last long. She was pretty though. Nothing on Alison.
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I didn’t do a lot of skilling when I was a kid. I’m regretting that now. I can’t cook anything but Spaghetti, and it takes forever for me to write my term papers. I try to influence people to do it, but I’m not very good with people. I mean, one nice point, hello?!
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It didn’t take long for me and Alison to become reacquainted. A lot easier than Arthas, who upon learning he wasn’t heir, really felt bad for dragging Carla to college.
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Things move slowly here. Almost at a snails pace. Once we completed freshman year, Blaze moved in. It was at this point I realized how messy Alison is. She’s disgusting! She makes an ocean whenever she showers, and never flushes the toilet. I hope I can stomach having children with her...it’s not as if I have much of choice.
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She gets a long with my brother really well. Here we are, playing darts in our new attire. We finally got enough money to go shopping for new clothes. Alison may be a slob, but she’s hot. Wow!
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“Get off the computer.” “Azure said-.” “I KNOW what she said. Get off. My turn now.” Hey all. It’s me, Arthas, Prince of Lordearon. I gotta tell you what happened. I started growing a beard, moved in Carla, moved out Carla, and then I moved my dream girl, Celeste Day to College. Artanis constantly mocks her appearance, but she’s beautiful to me. Three natural bolts. I can’t get over how over the moon I am that I’m not heir, and that I can marry her.
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All Artanis and Alison do is wander around and make out. Artanis actually dyed his hair brown to make her happy. Can you believe that?’
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Theres been alot of appearance changes around here. ARtanis likes his girls in hats, and Alison likes her men with glasses. Meanwhile, me and Celeste like eachother the way we are. Though she did chop off all her hair; said she’s been waiting too since she moved out.
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I guess she came from some overbearing parents.  “I can’t BELIEVE I am able to go to college, Arthas!” She squealed, practically bowling me over. Grinning, I replied,  “Why? Not enough money?” “No! We have enough, my parents are just super strict. I didn’t think they’d allow me to go!” She held me tight. “I haven’t had any freedom my entire life, and now...well, I’m more free than I can possibly imagine.” She let me go, holding her hair tightly in both hands. “Would you mad if I cut it? I’ve always wanted it short and-.” I took her hands in mine, squeezing them tight. “I wouldn’t care at all. In fact, you’d look beautiful whatever you choose.”
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“Let me BACK ON!” “FINE!”
It’s me, Artanis again. Dad came over to visit. He looks really upset by something, but wouldn’t tell us anything. He’s just constantly worrying. It really put a damper on our visit.
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He and Blaze caught up. It’s really strange, but out of all of us, Blaze looks the most like dad. They are literally dopplegangers. 
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“So, Azure told you you’re the heir?” “Yeah. It’s a lot to take in, but I can manage. Alison and I are pretty tight. I think I’ll propose to her soon.” “Just...make sure you love her, alright?”
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“Is there something wrong?” “Don’t chew with your mouth full.” *swallows* “Is there something wrong? You know I love her; I have since we were teens.” “I just want to make sure you’re happy, is all.”
I get the feeling Dads hiding something big from us.
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pennysword · 4 years
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An Ode to My Hero Academia
Okay, like every anime fan, I've fallen into the My Hero Academia hole and can't get up... and that's not a bad thing.
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I'll be the first to admit that I wasn't on the fanwagon when My Hero Academia landed on American shores in 2016. I was two years out of college and the only thing I cared about was finding a nine-to-five that paid my bills and kept my mom from telling me to do something with my life. I was also deep in the pit of post college depression, wherein I'd moved away from all my friends and thought myself too socially awkward and weird to be able to make new ones. That's something a lot of us deal with, I think, especially when we're forced out of our comfort zones.
I am a shojo romantic at heart. Most shonen don't really hook me emotionally the way shojos do. And if it does hook me, it's set in a world so fantastical and so bizarre that my interest wanes before long and I would forget the plot all together. When I did delve back into manga or anime (decreasingly so once I got my first adult job at twenty-three), I wanted to wrap myself in the blanket of the tropes that were comfortable to me: a wallflower female lead with surprising feistiness and sense of justice, a beautiful male lead like prince from a fairy tale, a second lead who would do anything for your affection. These stories were mostly set in the real world, even if they didn't make sense sometimes, I could make excuses because I loved the idea of shojo so much more than disliking the flaws.
While a lot of my friends watch anime religiously, I'm more of a casual fan (which is really a nightmare to otakus, who expect you to know every single canon, fanon, and side canon that has ever existed). I remember my first encounter with the show was equally as casual. My friend explained to me it's general concept while waiting in line for my badge at ACEN 2017. “It's about superheroes! There's this girl who is literally a frog! An ostentatious personification of America! When people cosplay this other character they wear a green zentai suit because she's supposed to be invisible and that's funny!”
Fresh off the tails of One Punch Man, which came out in 2015, I thought it was the same concept and I rolled my eyes. I knew that anime followed trends, like most things in the world: one year psychic-mecha anime was what everyone wanted to do and the next, post apocalyptic themes were all the rage. So I thought My Hero Academia was just another One Punch Man, a self-referential, satirical comedy about heroes who knew how ridiculous their own genre was. I'd seen it once and wasn't really interested in seeing it again.
My second encounter with My Hero was a bit more personal. It was 2019 and I was taking my eight-year-old cousin to her first anime convention ever. Her family has always been a little more conservative, being Jehovah's Witnesses and living in one of the most right wing cities in Mid Michigan... and I was thrilled when she confessed to me that she enjoyed shonen-ai, that her mom had bought her a complete set of Sailor Moon manga, and that she wanted to borrow my own personal manga collection for reading. There was only a four month turn around, but I made her a janky cosplay and drove her to Kalamazoo for one day of their local convention, Dokidokon, wherein she pointed out someone cosplaying her favorite character, Shoto Todoroki from My Hero Academia.
At this point I had the base knowledge that my friend had given me at ACEN two years prior, but I just couldn't follow what my cousin was saying. After she shyly asked for a picture with the cosplayer, she explained to me why she shipped this character with that character and why that other character was a jerk... I couldn't understand any of it. And I realized that I had missed something much more important than hopping on the fanwagon of one of the greatest anime of its time... I'd missed an opportunity to connect further with my little cousin, someone who was just beginning to sprout seeds of her own ideas and her own interests, separate from her religiously zealous mother and her perpetually aloof father. I had missed a chance to truly enjoy her happiness, to witness her excitement when she saw her favorite characters pop out of the television screen and manifest themselves before her, alive and in the flesh... and just as heroic as their two dimensional counterparts.
That fall, I watched the first episode of My Hero Academia on my morning elliptical workout and my life was changed.
I mentioned before that one of the reasons I have a difficult time connecting with the shonen genre is the fantastical worlds that I cannot relate to. For instance, I can apply logic to the world of Naruto in my head, but it never seems real like it could be real to me. I always find myself questioning social structure, in-world history, and the story's depiction of the human condition. There's always a nagging voice in my head that refutes all of these pretend worlds in shonen... but My Hero is set in a world not unlike our own. In fact, aside from his green hair, the main character seemed like someone I might have known in middle school: a small, meek nerd type who is always scribbling something in his journal, always knew more than he was letting on... someone you wanted as a friend, whether you realized it or not. Izuku Midoriya as a character is as close to the shojo trope of a wallflower main lead as you could get. When we meet him, he's quirkless and is often bullied for by his childhood frienemy, Katsuki Bakugou. He's kinda squirrely, kinda spazzy, but feels like a grounded character because his golden heart is his most defining attribute. Midoriya has no illusions about what he is. He knows he's weak. He knows that people look down on him. But he is just… good. His goodness is infallible and his goodness rings true in everything he does, including when he risks his life to save said bully in episode two.
Conversely, while Midoriya is full of impressionistic verve, Bakugou turns the tables on the typical second lead shonen stereotype because he's not some edgelord that wants revenge for his slaughtered family. He actually has both parents at home and lives in a nice house and neighborhood. He doesn't have some kind of revenge fantasy playing in his head on his journey to become the best hero... he's just a fucking dick. A dick with a chip on his shoulder because his whole life people have told him that he's the better than his peers... and when Midoriya proves to Bakugou that natural talent isn't everything, he must grapple with the idea that world wasn't everything he thought it was.
Midoriya doesn't automatically become a cool kid after attaining his quirk from his idol, All Might, either. He doesn't stop being socially awkward. Midoriya still nerds out when it comes to All Might and he still takes copious notes on every hero he encounters, his classmates or otherwise. Midoriya has a goal but he doesn't have a grand plan. There's no shortcut to the end, only day after day of hard work and determination and figuring shit out on his own. Since he is the protagonist, we see the reasoning behind everything he does and this fact grounds the world of My Hero Academia for me. We see Midoriya fail and win and fail again, but we never stop rooting for him because we know he is smarter and more capable than his awkwardness allows him to show the world.
We follow Midoriya during some of the darkest times of his life, including when he learns that he would never develop a quirk. What hurt him more than the doctor delivering this news was his mother's fervent apologies rather than words of encouragement. Because even without a quirk, Midoriya could have done anything he wanted to, had he had the support of his family. In shonen anime the parents are usually convenient plot devices or they are dead. In My Hero, though, Midoriya has a close and communicative relationship with his mother. One of the more powerful scenes involving Inko Midoriya is when she refuses to let Midoriya go back to his dream school despite his protests. She explains that, first and foremost, she is his mother and her duty is to keep him safe. When I see this scene I always choke up because this is how humans act and I don't think I've seen it in another shonen before. I hear the common argument, “Well, he's training to become a hero. He's gonna get hurt.” as a justification of why Inko should be fine with Midoriya's broken bones. And while logistically that may be true, we know that most parents wouldn't feel that way. It makes sense as a narrative, given what we know about Midoriya and Inko's relationship.
Something I also love about this series is that every character has a fail stop, a logical reason why they aren't as OP as possible: if Todoroki uses his right side too much he gets frostbite and if he abuses his left he gets burned. If Ururaka overexerts her Zero Gravity, she gets motion sickness. Even All Might, Midoriya's mentor and the strongest hero in the world™, cannot be in his hero form for more than three hours a day. Every character must learn to recognize and live with their shortcomings, because even heroes need to find their place in the universe... and rely on those who fill the empty spaces around them. Because this show, despite it's taglines and ultimate moves, thrives on the logic of balance, of give and take accepting that no one can go at it completely alone, I realized that it was nothing like the aforementioned anime. It was so much more.
Like my friend told me three years ago, on a surface My Hero Academia is about superheroes. It's about capes and costumes and training montages and redemption arcs and all the things that we nerds love... But beneath the surface, My Hero Academia is about recognizing your own power. Izuku Midoriya isn't a hero because he inherited All Might's quirk. He's a hero because, to the very marrow in his bones, he does what is right. Izuku strives to be better than his own self doubt and the world telling him he's not good enough, even though most times he ends up crying his eyes out. He embodies the will to succeed that we all have within us when we find our passions, whether it be beginning your fitness journey with some anime on the elliptical, bagging that nine-to-five job, or something more substantial, like training, despite the odds, to become a hero who saves people with a smile on his face.
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atinywriting · 5 years
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Ghostly Friend | Jongho Ghost AU
Synopsis: Jongho has been alone as a ghost for so long. But just as he’s about to give up on trying to get someone to see him, finally, you come along and you can see him!
Word Count: 1,453
Being dead had to be absolutely the most boring and loneliest thing to be for Jongho.
He sighed, pouting as he wondered throughout the house. Another family driven out again and he was alone. Again. It wasn’t his fault—
Wait. Jongho paused in the hallway, remembering all the things he did. Randomly slamming the doors for attention, purposely jumping around on the creaky floors, smashing fruit into pieces...
Okay, so maybe it was his fault. But, it wasn’t his fault he just wanted someone to finally see him. For someone to pull him out of this eternal boredom. For someone to just be there with him.
The sound of the front door opening downstairs suddenly snapped Jongho out of his thoughts. He walked to the window and peered outside. There were three people, someone around his age and what seemed to be their parents moving a few boxes in. Jongho frowned, sighing and drifted up towards the attic. Maybe. He thought. Maybe he should just stop trying. After all, he was only going to be invisible and keep scaring everyone off forever.
You looked up the house and took a step back, taken aback by the sight. Was someone behind the window? But within another blink of the eye, they were gone again in a flash.
“Uh, Mom? Do I have a roommate or something?” With a shake of her head, you asked another question. “Remind me, how did you buy this house for me again?”
“Oh, the family said they wanted to sell the house but couldn’t find anyone to buy it. They seemed really desperate, considering they lowered the price very low. Supposedly it’s haunted but ghosts aren’t real, so there is no real danger.”
Alarms of death flags rang throughout your body. You froze, mouth falling wide open as you stared at your mother in disbelief. “Mom, that’s like the start to almost every freaking horror plot in the universe.” Your eyes shifted back between your mom and dad. “You’re both sending me to my death in the most horror story way ever.”
You dad sighed, shaking his head, “You’ve been watching too much horror movies lately. And a movie is just a movie, not real life.”
“Oh, come on!” You groaned, face palming. You wildly waved your hand up and down at the house. “Family moves out. Old house is rumored to be haunted for years. House is sold to people who don’t believe in the supernatural. Then everything horrible in a horror movie plot happens!”
“You’re being paranoid. Have you ever actually seen a ghost?” Your dad inquired.
Your mom hummed in agreement. “And, didn’t you say you wanted to move out to be closer to your university so you didn’t have to drive for an hour? I also do recall you screaming, “Freedom!”, when we told you we found a place for you to move.”
You stiffened, trying to think of a counterpoint. But, nothing came to your mind.
Fuck. You cursed inside your head. Everything they both said was true. You’d never had actually seen a ghost before. Everything would definitely be more convenient for you if you lived here. And, there was definitely no house that was this cheap. There was no bad, other than the existence of ghosts if they even were here.
“Fine.” You sighed, holding up one finger. “One week. If nothing bad happens, I’ll stay. And, for future reference on what to put on my gravestone.” You stared at your parents seriously. “Put on, ‘I died like a stereotypical horror character. It’s your fault for not listening to me.’”
“Duly noted.” Your mother said dryly, rolling her eyes playfully.
As you waved at your parents and they drove off, a sudden thought came to your mind. Wait, what if mom and dad bought this house just to kill me off for being a bad child? You shook the thought off. Okay, that was probably reaching a bit much.
You took a deep breath, turning around to look over at the entire house again. It honestly looked pretty nice for a supposedly haunted house. But then again, the overall neatness of the house was probably there to lure you in a false sense of security. You walked into the house, eyes darting around and making sure to leave the door open. Surprisingly, the door didn’t close by itself like in every horror story.
Maybe if I just act friendly to the ghost, it won’t kill me? Loud creaks came from the stairs as you walked up.
“Hey, Mr. or Miss Ghost?”
Jongho froze for a few seconds, before lifting his head up. Did he just hear what he thought he heard? He stood up, more concentrated on the voice below him than before.
“I saw you behind the window earlier.”
He did hear correctly! His nonexistent heart raced faster and jumped.
You reached the middle of the hallway. “And uh, just letting you know I’m living here now. So... please don’t kill me?” You crossed your fingers as you continued on. A sudden flash of white appeared from the ceiling, landing in front of you, making you jump back. “HOLY FUCKING SHIT!” You began to scurry away, but he grabbed on to your hand tightly. You struggled against his hold, but fell to your knees.
“Wait, wait, wait! I’m not going to hurt you!”
At the words, you stopped struggling and slowly turned your head back, eyes dilated with fear. “You’re not going to kill me by tearing my limbs off, ripping my intestines out and riding me like some sort of meat sled down a mountain?” You asked in a small voice.
“Wait, what?” Confusion flashed in his eyes then he frantically shook his head. “No, no, no! I’m not going to tear your limbs off, rip your intestines out or turn you into a meat sled. But...” His eyes shined with hope. “You can actually see me?”
“I mean, I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”
Tears of sheer joy dropped from his eyes. “Finally!” He screamed.
He let go of your hand and your entire body fell to the floor. You sat up, seeing him bounce all around the hallway, randomly slamming doors open and close, and— Wait. You blinked, squinting your eyes. Was your brain processing this correctly?
“Let’s get it! Drop the beat, YOOOOOO!”
“Are you... are you seriously Fortnite dancing and doing the Milly Rock? How old are you?”
But you were ignored as the ghost continued to laugh almost maniacally, dancing around the house and randomly singing high notes out of nowhere.
This. This is not what I thought having a ghost haunt me would be like, you thought to yourself as you stared at the energetic spirit.
He finally stopped after several minutes, looking somewhat sheepish as he approached you. Your eyes traveled up and down him, finally getting a good look at him. Dark splotches of blood and slit holes (perhaps stab wounds) decorated his clothes.
“Sorry for just leaving you on the floor like that.” He held out his hand. “I’m Jongho, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Nice to meet you too.” You grabbed his hand and pulled yourself up. “But seriously, how recently did you have to die to know Milly Rock and Fortnite?”
“Over 40 years now actually?” Jongho looked down at his fingers, trying to recount the years. “Also the last family that lived here had kids and I just learned by watching them because it looked fun.” A sudden realization came to Jongho and he snapped his fingers. “Oh! Since you just moved here, I could help you.”
You tilted your head. “Really?”
Jongho nodded eagerly. “Come on, I’ll show you how to clean floors in a more fun way.”
He passed through the floor and you rushed down the stairs. As soon as you reached the floor, there Jongho stood tall with a broom held out in his right hand and left hand at his waist.
“I’m going to show you how to do the driving dance,” Jongho declared. “First—“
You held up your hand. “Hold on.” It was at this moment, you knew what to do. You reached into your pocket, grabbed your phone and pressed call.
“Hey mom?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“Forget the one week thing. I adopted the crackhead ghost living here as my dead BFF and I am living here forever. Bye, love you.”
Before she could say anything, you hung up and grabbed another broom from the kitchen. You stood in front of Jongho, left hand on your waist and broom held out with your right hand. “You were saying?”
And that’s how the beautiful friendship between you and Jongho blossomed.
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treatian · 4 years
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The Chronicles of the Dark One:  The Dark Curse
Chapter 46:  Beyond Their World
And so it began.
Regina was married. And as he'd watched her walk down the aisle, escorted by her father, and take the King's hand in her own while Snow White beamed, he'd had a vision. A beautiful vision. It was one that he hoped was not the doing of his own imagination but rather the result of the Seer that still lived in his very skin. The vision was of Regina, but not the scared little doe-eyed girl that was marrying the King if only to keep herself safe from persecution, no, certainly not. This Regina was older, darker. The white smile on her face was not one of true happiness but rather a smile of a trickster. She'd been dressed in black, her clothing showing off shapely curves, her hair twisted high into a knot on her head. In her hand was a heart, glowing red and beautiful and the name, the moniker that came to mind as he watched the priest pronounce them Man and Wife was not Queen Regina, but rather, The Evil Queen.
How reassuring.
And yet, there was still a long way to go before that vision was achieved; he simply knew it. The lessons that followed it confirmed it.
Regina was different than Cora in several ways, some good and some bad. Her strength, the magic that flowed through his new student, was powerful, far more than her mother's. But getting her to use it…now that was a tricky task. Cora had had such a difficult life she'd been determined to do anything she could to get ahead. That determination was her motivation, and Cora had taken in every lesson he'd ever taught her, taking it upon herself to quickly master what she'd never had access to before.
Regina had no such motivation. True, her childhood with Cora had not been an easy or enjoyable one. But where her father, Daniel, and even her horses were concerned, she'd had a much better life than Cora. The good had outweighed the bad. And now with Cora secure in Wonderland, the guards searching the Kingdom hopelessly for her after Regina had told them she'd stepped out and never returned, there was very little he had to work with. Her father was with her, happy and healthy, getting along splendidly with the King. Her horses were safe and at her disposal. And Daniel…he, or rather, his body was a problem. Still kept protected by Regina's preservation spell, she was often distracted by that body. It gave Regina hope, and he realized after a short amount of time that it wasn't for power or even protection she was learning magic, but rather with the hope that one day she might bring her love back to life. She was wrong, of course, in many ways. She needed hate and devastation to fuel her as he'd seen thus far. Not hope.
All he really had to work with after Cora's banishment, was Regina's current marriage. Being married to the King was not something Regina was happy about. There were perks, and what came with the union was why she'd ultimately followed through, but it wasn't what she'd hoped. And how could it have been? Married again barely a year after his wife had died?! Leopold was too attached to Snow to really care for his new wife the way a husband should. Regina knew it. And she felt it as well. He encouraged those emotions, not only because he knew what would come, but because it helped egg her on now.
Cora's spell over the mirrors turned out to have been sealed using blood magic, and he was quick to convince Regina that it would be smart to undo it, but the actual act had been something of a challenge.
"But then…if I do this…won't people be able to see in to me? Dressing or…or bathing?!"
"The answer to that is simple…" in midair, he conjured a blanket and threw it over the mirror they were working with. "No sight…no sound…but as it is, if you ever found yourself with a need to get in communication with someone, say…your teacher…you'd be able to see, but not hear…very poor way of communication if you ask me.
"But then…" he removed the blanket quickly. "What does it matter? If it makes you uncomfortable? It's not as if you're not already watched constantly by the King…by Snow White…the servants even…"
"But…I am watched by them. Constantly, it's as if they don't ever stop looking in on me."
Indeed, it was getting more and more difficult for them to find time and places to practice for even just a few minutes before someone stormed in to demand her time.
"So…wouldn't it be nice to have the upper hand, to give them a taste of their own medicine? To watch the King as he works? To overhear every last word dear Snow White says to everyone?"
A sneer grew over Regina's mouth. "Show me how!"
And with that, Cora's spell was undone. Sight and sound into Regina's life was restored. But it wasn't always easy. One problem Regina had that Cora never did was time. Engaged to her Prince in his castle, she'd always managed to find time for magic. But as the acting Queen, step-mother to a young girl, and wife to the King, her schedule was packed tight. In the end, the mirrors were helpful to communicate even if all they had was ten minutes or so. The rest of the time he spent back at his castle, waiting for the next summons, plotting his next lesson…and listening to Jefferson.
He had to admit that his own education was growing considerably as well, thanks to the boy. He was becoming something of a regular occurrence in his life. He never returned with news of the curse, but at least he never came back from an excursion empty-handed either. He often brought him strange and interesting items from other realms that he visited. Useless to him or not, money was never a concern, so he bought them from him just to hear the stories and absorb as much information as he could about these other places. Some of them had such strange customs and items.
"Stethoscope…" Jefferson explained as he sat upon the table, allowing him to examine the odd object in his hands now. "Pinched it from the Doc when he wasn't looking in the Land Without Color."
"A doctor, you say…"
"Yeah, about the only interesting part of that world if you ask me. He's trying to resurrect the dead. But I don't go there often; it's difficult to blend in during the daylight."
"And why might that be?"
"Well, I didn't name it the Land Without Color for its rainbows," he retorted from his place on top of the table. "It's without color…black, and white, and gray all over, and I'm…well, not without color."
"Yes, yes, I see, you needn't have added that last little bit," he growled as he paid him for the object.
On and on, he could talk about realms far from this singular one he lived in. Realms without end it sometimes seemed, though he did promise him that there was an end, an edge. One realm in particular, where time stood still and the sun hung in the sky in eternal sunset.
"Or maybe it's sunrise? Ah well, I don't like to go there either really so it doesn't really matter," he commented. "It's bad for my health! Time moves differently in all these realms and there especially it's incredibly fast. I spent a week there once, laying low after stealing a ruby from Agraba, I was really after some scissors, but it was a nice consolation prize. Anyway, when I went back to try and sell the thing they nearly killed me again, it was still the night I'd stolen it!"
"How curious…" he muttered absent-mindedly. On and on, Jefferson could talk about realms when he wanted him to and when he didn't want to. He was attempting to test the potion he was working on while Regina was out touring the Kingdom with her new family, and Jefferson was chattering on and on by his side. This was one of those times he really would rather have concentrated than listen. "Tell me, Jefferson, you don't like Wonderland, you don't like The Land Without Color, and you don't like this Edge of Realms…where do you prefer to go?"
Jefferson stared at him blankly for a moment, then shrugged his shoulders. "Oz isn't bad. And the Land of Untold Stories is pretty interesting, not to mention all it requires is a key and not my hat to get there. London is quite profitable too. To be honest, I like anywhere I can make money easily!"
Cities of emerald, Wonderland, and at least three different realms that each had a very different copy of a city called "London", where magic was different in each one; he'd never admit it, but sometimes thinking about the realms made him dizzy. It was all fascinating, truly it was. He welcomed the information. What wasn't always welcomed was Jefferson's long stays at the castle between trips. He wasn't sure how the boy had gotten the invitation to stay at his castle like he was some kind of teenager who didn't want to go home to his parents, but he knew that he was growing accustomed to being at work and seeing Jefferson sudden appear seemingly out of nowhere and haunt the halls of his castle before he suddenly disappeared just as mysteriously as he'd arrived.
In truth his yammering was only a problem for his sanity. The boy did seem to recognize some boundaries, though he did have a habit of testing his luck.
"Any sign of my curse?"
"Nothing on that," he sighed, sounding disappointed himself. "I ask everywhere I go, but mostly all I get for it is blank stares. If you had more information…"
"If I had more information, I wouldn't need to send you out looking to and fro now, would I?"
"Just a suggestion. It's not like looking for curses is in my typical wheelhouse. I usually specialize in rare items that glitter and make me money. But I'll keep looking. Never know what you might find out there. Last week I actually discovered a world where pigs fly. If that's possible, anything is!"
As Jefferson muttered his last word his head snapped up. Someone had just come onto the castle grounds. Two souls, one human and the other...at the speed the individual was approaching it must have been a horse. The Seer said nothing about the unexpected visit. It was probably a nobody coming to make a deal. He hoped they were more interesting than Jefferson, or at the very least less annoying. They'd be to the door any second now.
"Wait here and stay out of sight!" he snapped at the boy when he finally heard the knock on the door. With a wave of his hand, the objects he had on the table in the great room vanished back up to his workstation.
"What you think I'm not used to the rules of your business by now?!" Jefferson hollered after him as he left the room. He didn't panic. Annoying as he was, Jefferson was a smart man and knew better than to stay around when he wasn't wanted. When he returned to the room with his "business", as Jefferson had called it, he knew the boy would be gone from sight. Or else he'd find someone else to work that hat for him.
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vivithefolle · 5 years
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Can you rec some Ronarry fics? (Preferably long ones?) Sorry if I'm annoying you.
You’re not annoying me at all, Anon! :D Thought I’m super frustrated because I’ve read one very long fic that has Ron searching for Harry, who has amnesia and ran away to America (and is gay but nobody knew that) and Ron realizes he’s in love with Harry and the fic has about 30 chapters and it’s on FFN but I can’t find it!! x_x
Sooo… I didn’t find that many long fics but I can give you a long list of them if you want?
Beautiful FriendIt took six years for Harry to learn something in History of Magic.This one. Oh my lord this one… it’s short, but it’s amazing. It’s full of lovely lively details and Harry’s description of Ron is… aaaww.
Life DrawingDean watches, and sees something unexpected.Again, the descriptions! My lord the descriptions, and also you will relate very much to Dean if you’ve ever worked with pencils.
Something They Can Barely SeeHarry has no idea how to tell his best friend he wants more that friendship. He’s pretty sure this would be hell of a lot easier if he knew for sure how Ron felt about him.This one is plenty cute. Ron is adorable and Harry… Harry’s trying his best. :’D
Our Inner BeastsLater, Madam Pomfrey would tell them that both Bill and Ron were going to survive. But she had no idea what the effects of a werewolf bite, when the werewolf was still in human form, could do to their behavior.Okay, who’s up for writing more Creature!Ron fics? Seriously. Someone do some more of those. Here we have Ron as a werewolf, aggressive, feral, self-loathing… doesn’t matter, Harry loves him.
Running with the Wolf, Loving the Mansnapshots of Harry Potter’s life with a werewolf boyfriendFollow-up of Our Inner Beasts. Someone heard our prayers and gave us more Werewolf!Ron, and it’s as wonderful as it sounds.
What HappenedThat’s just the thing, though. He doesn’t know what happened. He can’t pinpoint a single event where everything suddenly made sense. There was no epiphany or choir of angels or aligning of stars, or any of the other rubbish Parvarti goes on about in the Great Hall. There’s no one moment when he realized, “Oh.”Ron and Harry’s friendship, only it’s not just friendship. The last line will make you want to put on some epic music.
Follow The Butterflies“Why did it have to be spiders?” Ron moaned. “Why couldn’t we follow the butterflies?” Harry privately agreed with his best friend, but if there was anything Hogwarts had taught him, then that if he didn’t do something, no one would. “I promise the next time we have to follow anything, it will be butterflies.”Harry and Ron’s friendship again, with more butterflies thrown in the mix. It’s just as perfect as it sounds. If you don’t ship Harry/Ron, this fanfic might just change your mind.
Sonnets of Magical InterferenceHarry receives some strange notes about his love life, or lack thereof.By the end of that fic, you might just cheer for a very controversial character.
HeavenHarry’s heaven includes Ron.Features Ron being emotional over a movie, Chinese takeout, and Harry being a sap. What more could you ask for?
Harry Potter And The World That Went Bloody Insane“I know something you don’t know” is, apparently, the essence of Harry Potter’s love life. Harry’s certain that the world has been reading one too many romance novels, but then, Harry’s always been a bit oblivious.Featuring Protective!Attentive!Caring!Ron and Oblivious!Harry in their stinky flat and everyone shipping Harry/Ron. It’s awesome.
Check MateHarry questions his dreams, Ron has a scary one of his own, Hermione and Cho plot, and Seamus and Dean obsess.Harry’s subconscious has lots of funny ideas. Ron is ridiculously cute. Might be a bit difficult to read because of FFN’s shitty formating for line breaks.
On The OutsideHarry doesn’t think there’s much point to his being gay. He can’t have regular sex, he can’t have children, and he can’t tell his best friend he’s in love with him.Ron is utterly adorable, do I really have to say it? Why, yes, yes I do.
Newton’s LawFor every action, there is an equal and opposite reactionCheck out this author’s other Harry/Ron fics. I especially like Brass Ring; in the meantime, have a rather in-character reaction of Hermione and Ginny finding out about their ex-boyfriends dating. Hey, not my fault if JKR doesn’t know how to write strong female characters without making them abusive.
Sleeping BeautyThe most gen ever retelling of Sleeping Beauty.Who cares if it’s gen, it’s amazing. Harry sleeps, Ron is wonderful, and ants get colorful.
The Complexities Of Muggle MachineryHarry bought a refrigerator. Then it was a microwave. Then a blender. Thursday was the coffee brewer. Ron really liked that last one.Ron is absolutely, heart-stoppingly, adorably cute and pretty much just like I imagine him to be around Muggle things. Harry’s lucky.
After the cupcakesThey never really talked about it but they are each other’s world. And perhaps a lazy Sunday morning is as good a time as any to finally say something.Utterly sappy and fluffy and you know me, I was mostly there for Harry’s description of Ron. It didn’t disappoint.
Sing Your LoveThroughout the years they’ve lived together, Harry has always enjoyed Ron’s singing but lately he’s been picking up hidden messages in his flatmate’s song choices.Do you like Ron singing? Do you like Ron dancing? Do you like Ron crying his heart out over an emotionally oblivious Harry? Well in that case you’ve found the perfect fic!
Snakes & LaddersAfter the final battle with Voldemort, Harry intends to get on with his life. There’s just one problem; he was supposed to have died when he confronted Voldemort in the Forbidden Forest and now the Other Side is trying to collect him. But in the space between his ‘death’ and the victory celebrations, Harry’s fallen in love… and he’s not going to give up his second chance without a fight.A complicated premise, a complicated tale, a very worried Ron, a very determined Harry, an entirely unwelcome Severus Snape coming from beyond the Veil, all leading up to an epic confrontation in the Other Side. Who knew the afterlife had a court?
Now, it’s time for… TEH SMUT! D:Every story below this text will have MATURE CONTENT. Shoo, children, shoo!
Partners (last chapter gets NSFW)What if the girls hadn’t come in just then?  What course of action would Harry, in his desperate frame of mind, have latched onto instead?This fanfic made one of my most desperate wishes come true. For those who don’t know me, I’ll just tell you that Cinderella isn’t a matter of gender.
Scars (warning: mentions of self-harm)Ron is embarrassed of his scars, and Harry might be able to help.Ron is his terribly self-loathing self, but at least Harry is there to remind him of what we Ron-lovers know: that he’s loved and beautiful.
The Matchmaker (contains sexual mention)Sir Nicholas has never had a couple like these two…Nearly-Headless Nick ships Harry and Ron. So does the entire Gryffindor House. All in all, just what we need.
Exploring The Spectrum (NSFW at the end)Ron wakes up to find he can only see in a single colour.Very interesting mystery and clever use of a forgotten plot point. The resolution is basically “sex solves everything” but otherwise it’s a great story.
Hug! Hug! Kiss! (second-to-last drabble is NSFW)Ron loses Harry in a foreign land. In other words, Harry accidentally joins a Japanese boy band.This story is ridiculous, confusing, crazy, and absolutely hilarious. No existing celebrities were harmed.
Just Another Teenage Epoch - Ron Weasley, 1999 (NSFW at the end)Ron wants to be an Auror, and he wants to not grow up, and he really wants other people to stop kissing Harry.The classic mistletoe tale! Ron is not amused at all. It’s okay, we’re rooting for him (and Harry is, too).
Trapped in Winter (NSFW at the end)Harry and Ron have an argument. When Ron goes to storm out of the room, he’s frozen in time, and when Harry touches him to see what’s the matter, they’re both transported to a snowy winter wonderland.A surprising premise that leads to a confused, hurt Ron and a tight-lipped Harry, and of course, to Harry/Ron. Pretty nice!
That We Might Be Exactly Like We Were (warning: graphic self-harm, realistic depression, themes of suicide)'Everything just takes me back, to when you were there…’This author pretty much nails what depression is like. She also has several other Harry/Ron fanfics that are written just as expertly as this one, but be forewarned, they tend to deal with very upsetting topics as well. Sadly, I could see her version of Ron existing in the canon we know.
Slow Slide (get out) to a Better Place (warning: abuse and r*pe)Harry told himself that everything was fine in his relationship with Ginny, at least until he couldn’t lie to himself anymore. And by then, he thought it might be too late.  Fortunately, he has two very good friends who will always be there for him, one of whom might eventually be something more.Downside: Ginny fans should NOT read this story. Upside: contains Vivi’s most beloved ship, Romione + Ronarry.
Prelude and Fugue (NSFW in the middle)It took over an hour, from the time Harry arrived at work, for him to realise just how different today actually was.The “Groundhog Day” loop is wonderfully done, you can actually feel the weariness building as Harry wakes up and notices it’s still Monday, bloody Monday.And Ron is absolutely adorable - yes, I’ll say it every time!
Princes of Maine (NSFW at the end)Harry wakes one morning to find an abandoned baby on his doorstep. Little does he know that this is only the beginning of his most challenging adventure yet: parenthood.You want Harry as a single parent and not knowing anything about babies? You have it. You want Ron as a competent Healer who’s sick of Harry’s shit and determined to get answers as to why his best mate is a wreck? You have it. You want Harry/Ron? What are you waiting for, dive in!
Still looking for more? Take a look at this post!
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