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colorfulspiderwoman · 2 years

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Maybe I Don’t Hate Geese

By colorfulspiderwoman

A Heartstopper Oneshot, fluff and soulmate au, idk how many words & I’m not gonna check

I suppose I didn’t expect this to happen in this way… but I suppose I never expected it to happen but then it always does. I look down the hallway at it, it stares straight back at me. It looks like it is giving me a moment to run, but I wait for things to be different.

Maybe this time it won’t, maybe this time it will be nice? Trying to give the thing some sympathy. But it only glares at my soul, I know it is going to attack me, and I’m scared.

It bends it head down,

I move backwards a step,

It’s wings are spread,

I look for an opening in the crowded hallway,

than bobs it head up and down, I start to quick shuffle to an opening,

And finally,

“HONK, HONK, HONK”

I sprint down the hallways.

“Fuck,” “fuck,” “Fuck,” I curse as my mind wonders, why the bloody hell does this keep happening to me?

(Charile age 7)

I love it when Tori and I can go to the park. Usually I don’t like the outdoors much, but with Tori it’s more fun.

We aren’t the one to run a lot so we explore the ground and trees. I see a ladybug on a plant and go to pick it up, it’s so small in my hands.

My grandpa says I have much too small hands for a boy my age, but they look so big compared to the ladybug. I like bugs, or at least the pretty ones. I don’t care for plain beetles, but Tori also likes bugs. Dad says that’s unique because most girls don’t like bugs.

Dad is in the car on a phone call, we are supposed to leave in the next thirty minutes or so, but I don’t mind, I get to see Grandma and Grandpa later today. I like seeing them. I always get treats.

I want to show Tori my ladybug, she sits under a tree reading a small book, she is almost entirely still. Tori doesn’t look for bugs with me anymore, Dad says it’s unique for her to like bugs but girls at her school called her weird for liking bugs. Tori doesn’t help me look for bugs anymore.

I stay with the ladybug in my hands and look at my sister, she looks sad. I don’t want to make her unset by showing her the bug, but I don’t want her to be sad all alone.

I sit down and look around at the rest of the park,

A man with his wife on bicycles,

A woman setting up a picnic with her toddler,

And at a football game of boys my age, I suddenly feel a bit nervous, I always get nervous around boys my age. Mom says it’s because I am just sensitive and shy and one day I won’t feel nervous around them. I don’t know if I believe her yet.

I watch them kick the ball around, I could ask to play, but I think I want to hang around Tori until she feels better. I look at the game one more time. It looks like another person is about to join the game as a blonde boy runs up, but then I see it.

A goose, no more than six feet away from me.

I didn’t know this park had geese. I reach out to pet it with the hand that is not holding the ladybug, it stares at me as I move closer. Then it moved its head down, and flared its wings. I stay still in confusion. Then it hisses, I stand confused as “HONK, HONK, HONK,” It runs towards me and I scream, running as fast as I can away from it.

I run over the mud, over the little creek, around the bushes, through the flowers, near the trees and I am about to run into the field when, “WAP!” I stop and look around. It’s Tori, with no more book in hand as she had thrown it at the goose.

Tori stood firm, but the goose looks like it’s getting back up, Tori grabs my hand and runs us to the car. We ran quickly and Tori opened the door and got me in, but Tori barely made it but not before getting bit by the goose.

Dad turns around looking at his frazzled children and Tori’s now bleeding hand, asking us why we interrupted his phone call. We explained the goose, and the running, and Tori’s hand, Dad just laughed.

In fact he laughed until we got to Grandpa and Grandma’s house, and there in between the laughing he said to tell the story to Grandparents and we did, to which they started laughing.

After a minute or two, Grandpa interrupted the laughter by saying, “Chin up kiddo, a story like that will only happen once, you have a good story to tell.”

I laughed awkwardly, little did I know that I was going to wish Grandpa was right about this.

(Charlie age 13)

The park had become a bit of an unsafe zone for me since the Incidences. Since I was seven, I've had two goose attacks, both of them ending with me sprinting to the car. Other than seven I was also attacked at age ten. Luckily Tori had been with me both times and saved me. She still has the goose bite mark since the seven year old goose attack.

This made me have a bit of fear of goose. Or geese. Whichever works. Either way I have been terrified to go to the park by myself. But now it’s different.

I have made a lot of friends since I was seven, or at least a lot of friends for me, Tao, Issac, and now Elle.

We all made friends because we weren't quite normal. I couldn’t make friends because I’m Charlie, I'm very highly anxious. Tao couldn’t make friends because he was just very… passionate about things. Issac had a hard time making friends because they always had their head in a book and barely looked up.

And Elle, well Elle came out as transgender and lots of people found that weird for some reason.

But nonetheless they all became friends, it was a strange mixture but it worked. In a lot of ways they all had fun with each other.

Now, they were all walking through the park, all with ice cream in hand. And for a moment Charlie forgot he was in the park. And little did his friends know that he needed to be aware when he was in the park.

“-and so as I was saying, DC movies have no reason to survive, and will die off within the next Marvel movie phase,” Tao said, moving their beanie a bit out of their face.

“Not really I mean think about it, DC has been around way longer than Marvel, comic-book-years-wise at least,” Issac interjected,

“Actually I think I’m gonna agree with Tao on this one, the DC movies are horrendous, and Marvel seems to be taking over the world,” Elle says twirling her short but growing hair.

“Maybe they’ll actually-“ I start but don’t finish, as I make eye contact with once again the only goose in the park.

“Bloody hell,” I whisper, as my friends stand very confused, at not hearing me curse very much and for apparently having an eye contact contest with a goose.

I think to myself don’t, don’t, please don’t.

It’s head bends down and I don’t wait for what to happen next, I drop my ice cream cone and start sprinting to my house.

As I run I hear my friends calling out for me but then I also hear “HONK, HONK, HONK,” so I decide not to stop and sprint all the way to my house.

Back at the house I quickly explained to my friends on the group chat what was happening and the other two stories of getting chased by a goose.

All that group chat had to say is that a new inside joke was created. And it was titled “Charlie don’t look now but there’s a Honk Honk.”

I am glad that my friends can laugh at it, I just wish that I could.

(Back to modern time)

Five times! This has happened to me five times, and why?! Who the bloody hell knows! I do have to give the goose points though this is the first time it tried to chase me not in a park, how did it even get to the school?

Not the matter now, now the goal is trying not to get bit by a goose well running to my next class.

I make it to the next hallway where my next class is, and for a moment I swear I see and hear another goose on the opposite end of the hallway. What the hell are they ganging up on me now? But I realize it looks like it’s chasing somebody else.

Thank. Fucking. God.

I run into the classroom as the hissing gets too close to my legs for comfort. I barely get a chance to say good morning to the teacher when I have to run over to a table and jump up away from the goose.

The goose starts to calm down a little bit but not enough to try and stop getting onto the table. Then all of a sudden a tall blonde boy runs into the classroom, and what was tailing him? but a god forbidden goose.

He sees my idea and runs up to the same table, having to grab my arms to get up, and once he gets up with a little room on the table, he kind of just holds me there.

At that moment the geese seemed to calm down. In all my years of being chased by geese they have never calmed down well I was around.

I’m not sure if I’m all safe yet from them, but I do look at the boy is holding me, he’s tall, blonde, a bit familiar, seems to be covered in freckles, but the thing I seem to notice in that moment is that he is very, very cute.

“Hi,” he says still holding me, but looking in my eyes,

“Hi,” I say back with a sneaking blush coming to my face,

“Nice to know someone has similar problems as you,” he smiles,

“What?” I question,

He points at the geese,

“Oh yeah…Yeah!” I laugh, it’s weird I have never been able to laugh at my misfortune with the goose but now I feel so easy to.

“Nick Nelson by the way,” he says.

“Charlie Spring” I say in return.

We stood there for a moment.

“Ahem,” The teacher says,

“Oh right of course,” We climbed off the desk as the goose was all calm and now it was picked up by two older boys in class and thrown out the window.

we sit down next to each other, he looks me in the eyes and I look in his.

Maybe the goose wasn’t so misfortunate after all.

Nick; “Oh my God you got chased around by a goose five times too?!”

Charlie; “Yes, like honestly what the hell.”

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seas-below-moons · 1 year

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I'm making it a mission to have save files set on all the Nancy Drew puzzles because sometimes I have an itch for a specific puzzle and it drives me crazy 😭

#I may or may not have a fox and geese app on my phone #but I miss cooking in icicle creek!!#and the book puzzles from crystal skull and deception island #and the plant puzzle and ghosts and betty puzzles in blackmoor manor #ugh so many good puzzles throughout all of the games...

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seafoamwoman · 1 year

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Just spent 14 hours rereading the hunger games trilogy for the first time in almost a decade and wow 12 year old me was right these books are life changing

#it was so good. so so so good I appreciated so much more as an adult #the last book did drag a bit but i think its because it focused a lot on Gale and im ngl I didnt like him #He just felt so manipulative and just weirdly entitled to Katniss #but katniss was such a girlboss <3 she was so silly at times but like realistically #ALSO HAYMITCH?? I forgot so much about him i remembered his movie counterpart more #but omg I loved him hes a mess but he cares so much about Peeta and Katniss it was so sweet #and he raises GEESE <333

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kookslastbutton · 2 months

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what love feels like ༓ myg (m)

✑ Summary: Being a mother to a beautiful baby girl and wife to an adoring husband is the most rewarding feeling in the world. But you also work a full-time job, are overtired most of the time, stressed, don't have any alone time, look very different than eight years ago, and sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs on you until one day, all of your deepest insecurities rear their ugly head–that your husband might not love you as much anymore and someone could take him away from you.

Pairing: husband!yoongi x reader

AU/genre: angst, fluff, smut, marriage au

Rating: M, 18+

Word Count: 6.7k+

Warnings: swearing, both Yoongi and oc are in their 30s, mom and full-time worker!oc, reserved!dad!yoongi, lack of intimacy, mentions of body insecurities post-pregnancy, mentions of fear of abandonment, mentions of jealousy. irrational worries, built-up stress, light fighting, silent treatment, stubbornness, lots of reassurance, nightmares, cute backstory of how they met, a lot of ily, Yoongi and oc being good parents 🥹, Yoongi calls oc doll, and explicit sexual content

sexual warnings: swearing, kissing, neck kisses, pleading, banter, dirty talk, doll petname, asking for consent, b**b squeezing & sucking, hair threading, penetration, f*ngering, big d*ck!yoongi, growling, missi*nary, eye contact, tearing up, c*ming together

Now Playing: Breathing by Anne Marie

a/n: Okay this was for Yoon's bday. Based on the poll, husband!Yoon won. Was intended to be a Drabble but well...heh 😅 Anyway, I had a lot of fun writing this fic and Yoon is just such a good hubby for responding well to these very relatable insecurities. (Low-key love this couple...) I'm sorry for any typos or warnings i missed! I checked and double checked but a few might have slipped. Enjoy! Anyway please enjoy! 🥰

“So, you're Jia's father, huh? I don’t think I've seen you here before, and I’m sure I would have recognized you.”

With his back straight and arms folded, Yoongi gives the woman in front of him a quick once-over. Mid-40s, freshly single, and definitely in need of some companionship. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out; she’s been talking his ear off for the past twenty minutes like he’s some kind of remedy to all her problems.

Honestly, he just swung by to pick up his four-year-old from daycare after another grueling day at work. But the moment he walked in, it was as if all the single moms latched onto him like a flock of hungry geese. This one’s name is Sandra in particular.

It reminds him of his college basketball days, how the cheerleaders all too eagerly swarmed around him after sinking the winning shot at the championship game. Shame he was too busy eyeing the girl in the stands to care, her face buried behind a book twice as big as her head. Who reads an 800-page novel during the playoffs anyway?

Fate, as one may call it, intervened about a week later when his best friend became said girl’s lab partner. Yoongi didn’t make any sudden moves at first, but well, he did make her his wife three years later.

“It’s just so nice to finally meet the father of such a sweet child. Especially considering how many dads tend to take a backseat in their child's early years.” Is she still going on? Yoongi does his best to stay present, though it’s proving unsuccessful. “And Jia truly is an angel! It’s clear you’re doing a wonderful job raising her, even with a full-time job and all.”

Yoongi’s eyebrows knit together at the somewhat odd choice of words. “Thanks,” he drawls out, noticing her pupils dilating with every breath. “Most of the credit goes to my wife though. She’s a great mom to Jia.”

“Jia’s m-mom?” Sandra stutters, her mouth slightly agape. Yoongi senses the gears turning in her head as she struggles to process the unexpected presence of his wife. Tempting as it is, he holds down a smirk. Of course, he’s a happily married man–for nearly eight years now.

“Yeah,” he replies simply. “She’s usually the one to pick up our daughter from daycare, but she’s been working a lot of overtime lately. I thought I'd come instead so she can get some rest."

“Oh, well that’s very–“

“Daddy! Daddy, you’re here!” The sound of a familiar high-pitched voice, along with a light pattering of feet, diverts both adult’s attention.

“Hey kid.” Yoongi effortlessly lifts the small child once in front of him, securing her in his arms. “Have fun today?”

Jia gives an enthusiastic nod, bright red ribbons in her hair bouncing cutely as she does. Proudly, she shows him the drawing she made.

“See? It’s me, you, and mommy!” She makes sure to point to each part of the picture with her pointer finger.

Yoongi gently takes the artwork from his daughter’s hand and lets out a soft chuckle. “Now this is what I call a masterpiece! Mommy’s gonna love hanging this one on the fridge. How about I hold onto this and you go grab your backpack, okay?”

As soon as Jia’s feet touch the carpeted floor again, she races off to her cubby in the far corner of the room. Yoongi shoots Sandra a final glance before slowly following behind. “We got to get going, but nice meeting you.”

“You…too.” Sandra’s response is more than disappointed as she watches the father-daughter duo make their way out of the building. Evidently, Min Yoongi isn’t the single dad she originally assumed. Funny, she swore there wasn’t a wedding band in sight. Maybe she missed it.

“No, I’m sorry but I’m certain we haven’t used any of your services in the last six months. My husband canceled it in late October.”

With one hand, you grip your cell phone up to an ear while the other pops open the dishwasher. You’ve been on the phone with the cable company for half an hour, trying to make sense of an unexpected charge that appeared on your bank account this morning. You consider yourself more patient than most, yet after working all day, a pile of laundry waiting to be washed, and dinner threatening to burn on the stove, the last thing you have time for is arguing with your old service provider.

“I understand, ma’am, and I apologize for any confusion. I’m taking a look at my records and they’re all showing me that—oh wait a second.”

The young man on the opposite end of the line interrupts his own thought, piquing your concern in the process.

“What did you say your last name is?”

You answer and in an instant, you’re met with a thousand rushed apologies; something about getting the account names mixed up in their system. It’s difficult to decipher everything you hear with the front door being thrust open that very moment.

“Mommy, where are you? We’re home!” Your daughter not so subtly announces her presence from the foyer. She kicks off her shoes, hangs her backpack on the designated wall hook, and then rushes to the kitchen upon catching a brief glimpse of your shirt.

“It’s alright, these mistakes happen.” You hang up the call and turn around to find Jia only steps away, a big goofy grin on her face. Infectious, you break out into a smile yourself and swoop her up.

“Hey honey, I missed you so much!” You kiss the side of your daughter’s head as she wraps her small arms around your neck. “You look so pretty with all these ribbons in your hair! Daddy did a good job, didn’t he?”

Being that you were called into work earlier than usual this morning, Yoongi was the one who got Jia dressed and ready for daycare. You’re delightfully surprised by the results.

“Mmhm,” Jia nods, twirling a couple of strands of hair between her thumb and forefinger. “But Daddy pulls too much!”

“Maybe if someone had listened and stopped fussing when I told her, I wouldn’t have accidentally yanked on her hair when I was reaching for her favorite Hello Kitty scrunchie.” Yoongi joins you both in the kitchen, walking over to press a quick peck on your lips while tenderly caressing the small of your back. The gesture soothes you of your earlier frustrations. “Who was that on the phone? Cable company?”

“Yeah, they canceled the charge. Wrong account.” As you reiterate the entire mix-up, your eyes wander all over your husband. He’s especially handsome tonight, given his perfectly tousled black hair and navy blue blazer flowing over his body. It’s tastefully oversized with a clean, white top paired underneath. You, on the other hand, are sporting a raggedy old t-shirt and stained sweatpants.

There was a time when you used to put a shit ton more effort into your appearance. It was before you got pregnant with Jia, back when you and Yoongi were going out on weekly dates. Neither of you has that kind of time anymore, or energy for that matter. You didn’t believe the other moms when they told you the romance takes a nose dive after you have your first kid. Yet here you are, proven wrong again.

Being parents to a beautiful baby girl is likely the most rewarding feeling in the world for you and Yoongi. You don’t remember the last time the two of you got real quality alone time though. And sex? Well, that hasn’t happened in weeks. The gravity of the situation weighs more on you with each passing day to be honest. Sure, you’re not the same person you used to be eight years ago, but shouldn’t you and Yoongi still make time for at least a little intimacy?

“How was picking up Jia by the way?” You look at Yoongi who merely shrugs nonchalantly in response.

“It was fine. Nothing too out of the ordinary,” Yoong gives you another peck before heading up the stairs to your bedroom. “I’m gonna go get changed. Why don’t you show Mommy the drawing you did Jia?”

“A drawing?” You shift your attention to your daughter whose eyes sparkle like diamonds upon mention. “We should put it up on the fridge then. Let’s take a look hmm?”

“It’s in my backpack! My new friend and I were drawing together. Her name is Mi-Sun.” Jia continues telling you all about her friend Mi-Sun as you make your way to the front door where her backpack hangs. You’re fully engaged until the very end. “Daddy made a new friend too!” she joyously claps her hands together, not realizing the depth of her remark.

“Oh, who’s Daddy’s new friend honey?” You ask, staying as calm as possible.

“Ms. Cho! They were talking for a really long time today.”

Ms. Cho? You think back to all the moms you’ve met at daycare. Somehow you can’t recall ever hearing or meeting a Ms. Cho. She must be a single mom, you deduce. Was she new? What did she look like? And why didn’t Yoongi mention her when you asked?

This has to be nothing but a little small talk, an acquaintance at most. Besides, the moms at Jia’s daycare are quite a chatty bunch and Yoongi wouldn’t dare overstep any boundaries.

“Do you know what they were talking about?” You don’t enjoy asking your child for details about your husband, yet you can’t seem to help it this time.

“I dunno,” she shrugs her shoulders. "Daddy was laughing a lot."

Suddenly, the self-assurance you gave yourself earlier slips away; seemingly useless given the queasy feeling building in the pit of your stomach.

For the remainder of the night, you purposely dodge every attempt your husband makes to kiss, touch, and hold you. You’ve even begun responding to his questions in one-word answers and at times, with nothing at all.

Yes, you’re being petty; more than usual. The silent treatment frustrates Yoongi to no end and it isn’t very mature of you, but neither is refusing to tell your wife that some single mom was flirting with you in front of your kid! Okay, so maybe that's an exaggeration. Maybe it all sums up to a harmless conversation, but it’s not like you know either way with Yoongi being as reserved as he is. It brings you back to your early dating days when he wouldn’t think to tell you about various aspects of his day; who he ate breakfast with that morning or the one classmate of his that wouldn’t leave him alone for two semesters.

Truth be told, you're simply hoping that your husband will bring up the topic first, without having to be the classic nagging wife. You’re a jealous person by nature so it’s not a simple task. Even now as you fold the first batch of laundry on your shared bed, him on the other side doing the same, you struggle to keep from blurting everything out.

“So,” Yoongi fluffs up a clean pillowcase before sliding it onto one of the bed pillows. “How was work?”

What a basic question, you grumble internally. Is that all he’s got? “Was okay,” you reply. “The usual.”

“You must be tired from the day. Did you get to lie down at all?” Yoongi picks up another pillowcase, repeating the process as before. When he glances your way, it’s clear something’s on your mind. You’ve started pairing Jia’s socks far more aggressively than normal and you’re holding back your responses. “Did you hear me, doll? Or am I going deaf here?” The sarcastic chuckle distracts you from your task, forcing your attention.

You’re about to respond when your eyes briefly flicker down to his hands, his left one in particular. Where's his wedding ring? Yoongi always wears it no matter what. The same sick feeling from before returns tenfold. No wonder that Ms. Cho was all over him–she must have thought he was single.

“No, I didn’t get to lie down Yoongi. I worked all day, came home and made dinner, called the cable guy to get that stupid bill figured out, and now I’m doing the second load of laundry. I’m really just not in the mood to chat.” It comes out a blur as you snatch the empty laundry basket and head for your washer and dryer, your eyes welling up with tears.

“__, wait.” Yoongi tosses the last pillow near the headboard and stops you in your tracks, his hand firmly gripping one end of the laundry basket. The intensity of his stare softens as he speaks. “I'm sorry if it seems like I'm forcing you to talk. I know you've been losing a lot of sleep recently between work, Jia, and upkeeping the house. We just don't get a lot of time to see each other anymore and I miss you…I miss talking to you."

With every ounce of self-control remaining, you hold back any tears that risk spilling out. You don't know why you're acting like this, why you're crying over something that seems so small and insignificant to the rest of the world. Yoongi loves you. He's said it a million times and proven it to you over and over again, for eight years now. He wouldn’t cheat on you, yet you still get so worked up about the idea that someone could take him away from you. Someone half your age, more attractive, or hell even the opposite sex if it means fewer dark circles under their eyes.

"Why- why aren't you wearing your ring?" Your naturally confident voice dwindles to the whisper of a mouse. It's completely out of character, nevertheless, here you are.

"I..." Your husband's voice wavers. His gaze flickers to his left hand, where his ring should be, but isn't. "Shit...I took it off in the shower this morning," he confesses, frustrated by his forgetfulness. "I was in such a rush to get Jia to daycare, and me to work, that it completely slipped my mind. I'm sorry—I fully intended to put it back on." He pauses, then perks up. "It's still in the bathroom. I'll be right back, okay?"

You watch as he makes a beeline for the master bathroom, eager to rectify the situation as soon as possible. You should have kept silent what you say next, but you don't.

"No wonder the moms at Jia's daycare were so drawn to you."

"What?" Yoongi stops in his tracks. The dumbfounded expression on his face tells you that you've caught him off guard again.

"Jia told me about someone named Ms. Cho," you reluctantly continue. "The two of you were laughing and talking and–"

"Baby, don't worry about that." Seizing his chance, your husband walks back over to you and sneakily pulls the laundry basket from under your arm. He sets it on the ground after, then reaches to take your hand in his, but stubbornly you cross your arms.

"Her name's Sandra," he starts explaining. "She's a new mom at the daycare and she didn't know anyone, so she started talking to me. I got the sense she was a little overly friendly but it was all small talk, nothing more."

Still largely unsatisfied, you remain unmoved. "If it wasn't a big deal then why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"Because nothing serious happened. The majority of the conversation was her venting about her ex-husband and me wishing you were right there next to me. Please believe me. All I could think about was finally being able to come home to you after a long week with Jia in our arms."

"Really?" Well, now you're feeling guilty for avoiding him in nearly every way tonight. Guilty for believing such wild assumptions that he'd leave you for someone else over one measly conversation. Guilty for letting yourself get so worked up over a situation you, quite frankly, knew few details about.

"I mean it doll." This time, when he reaches out to grasp your wrist, he succeeds. He intertwines his fingers with yours and leads you to the edge of your bed, gently pulling you down to sit on his lap. "Do you really think I could look at anyone else the way I look at you? Or think about you the way I have for the last eight-plus years we've been married and known each other?"

You hesitate your answer, averting his eye contact. "I know but…"

"No, don't finish that. Look at me," he intercepts. "You and our daughter are the only women on my mind–24/7. I can't get either of you out of my head and I don't want to. I'm so sorry I forgot to put my wedding band back on this morning, and again tonight. I feel awful about it and I'll be more careful from now on. And another thing, when Sandra and I were talking I mentioned you multiple times. So, it's clear to her that I'm a happily married man."

The last bit of information manages to perk your ears. "You talked about me?" Your eyes widen as you finally shift your full attention to him. Yoongi eyes widen with you, amused by your sudden change of heart to look at him.

"I said my wife is an amazing mother, works too hard for her own good, and needed to rest today. Give or take a few words."

That's all? You huff to yourself. Would it been nice if your husband also thrown in that you were beautiful or stunning in that mix of compliments? Yes, yes it would have–again, you're pettiness clouds your better judgment. You're not as pissed off as before, but rather semi-irritated.

"Okay…well I guess it's fine then. I'm sorry for being short with you earlier. I shouldn't have made those rash conclusions about the ring and that woman from the daycare. It wasn't reasonable of me." You get up from his lap, yet Yoongi isn't entirely convinced that you're okay.

"There's still something you're not telling me. I can tell."

"No, there's nothing else." You waive him off, placing your hand on your bedroom doorknob "You told her you had a wife so it's fine. I need to switch the second load of laundry.”

"Come on, doll. Let's not leave things unsaid now."

Sighing at his plead, you find yourself giving into all your repressed thoughts and emotions. It swallows you up, like a tidal wave you can't stop. "Look at me Yoon. I'm sweaty, I have dark circles under my eyes, stretch marks, love handles, my hair's a mess, and all I wear are old sweats covered in stains. I'm nothing like I used to be! No wonder we aren't intimate anymore."

Yoongi rises from the bed at once, offended by the sudden digression. "Is that what this is all about? It’s not even about that single mom from daycare is it?" The truth of the matter sinks in as he speaks.

"I guess maybe so…though I'm still annoyed about that too." Great, you're back to square one again.

"Come with me, I need to show you something." Your husband gestures you to follow him, which you slowly concede to.

"What are you doing Yoon?" You both walk into the master bathroom, stopping in front of the large mirror above the sink.

"I'm showing you the woman I'm in love with and have been in love with for nearly eight years now. Sweats and all." Yoongi makes you face the mirror directly, hands around your shoulders. You have trouble stomaching the sight.

"Yoongi please, I can't. The laundry ringing off." You avoid looking into the mirror and make a move to leave the bathroom.

"Just stay with me a minute, please?" Your husband refuses to loosen his hold on you, turning your body so you're looking eye to eye. "No, you're not the same person as you were and neither am I. We're parents to a beautiful daughter now, who we love and adore. We're also overtired 90% of the time, juggling a million things at once. But there's one thing you can count on to always stay the same–my loyalty to you. I'll always be in love with you __, no matter what age you are or however way you look. There's nothing you can do to change that, so why fight it?"

Dammit. A single tear rolls down your cheek as you take in his heart-melting speech. It's not his words alone, it's the sincerity behind them. How he's repeated similar countless times before throughout your entire relationship.

"I love you, Yoon..." you choke out the words, composure fleeting.

"I love you so much, doll." He wipes the wetness of your tear with his thumb. "As far as us not being as intimate anymore, that's my fault. I don't ever want you to feel like I don't desire you every day. Why don't we send the kid to my parents this weekend and let me start making things right hmm?"

"I don't know if we can this weekend. Jia has a playdate on Saturday."

"So, I'll ask Mom to take her. She'll be happy to, trust me. We can finally watch that movie you've been dying to show me since what? December?"

"You're serious?" Your eyes light up at the mention of what is essentially a movie date. The show Yoongi's referring to is one you've been craving to see for months, yet neither of you has found the time to watch. "I've been talking about it for so long, Yoon."

"I know you have, it's why I suggested it. I've been wanting to watch it too with all the trailers you keep sending me. Plus, I'll be able to keep my beautiful wife in my arms for over two hours. That's a lot for us, especially with you being such a busy bee. I can never get you to light in one place! What's up with that, huh?"

Feeling your natural self re-emerging, you throw a playful swat to his arm and scowl at his teasing comment. "You're one to talk! You're basically a workaholic! Besides, you knew who you were marrying when you met me."

Yoongi chuckles and brings both hands to cup your cheeks, squishing them slightly. "A cutie who reads 800-page novels at a basketball game?"

"Stop babying me!" You pull his hands off your cheeks and rub them, trying to regain some composure. "I don't regret my choices, I like books. It's why I'm such a boss at work!"

"Okay, boss," he laughs. "What about what I suggested before then? I can call Mom tomorrow and ask her if she could watch Jia for the day. She'll take her to her playdate, then they can spend the rest of the day together."

It does sound nice, having the whole day with your husband.

"Okay," you agree. "Let's try."

"Good." Yoongi slides his hands down to your hips and pulls you flush against his chest. "How about we seal it with a kiss now?" You nod and he leans his head down, pressing an amazing, tender kiss to your lips. It makes you both giddy on queue.

"Read one more story, Daddy!" Jia leaps off her small, twin bed and bounds for her bookshelf. She lets out a series of giggles when a large pair of hands catch her, lifting her high into the air.

"I already read you three books kid," Yoongi says, planting a kiss on her cheek. "Bedtime." He then tucks her into her fluffy comforter, plugs in her teddy bear nightlight, and closes her bedroom door.

The next second, Jia comes running out of her room, latching onto his right leg. "I don't wanna go to bed. I wanna play!" Figures she'd be hyper at this hour.

Yoongi sighs and picks her up. "Daddy told you to go to sleep, it's not playtime. You'll have lots of time for that tomorrow when you get to see your friend." He then carries her into her room, yet she fusses in his arms; thumping her tiny fists into his chest.

"No, no, no, Daddy. I want to play!"

Sighing, Yoongi looks at his child with sharp eyes. "Jia–"

"Hey," you interrupt, entering your daughter's bedroom upon hearing the commotion down the hall. "What's going on?"

"Kid doesn't want to go to bed."

You give an empathetic look and saunter over to the pair, gently taking Jia into your arms. Yoongi places his hands on his hips as he watches you reason with your daughter.

"Jia, you know tomorrow's a big day right? You and Sana are going to go to the playground together." The child nods. "You don't want to be tired when you're playing do you?"

"No..." She shakes her head. "I want to be awake!"

"Then you need to listen to Daddy and go to sleep. That way you'll be full of energy tomorrow when you and Sana go on the swings or slide down all the big slides." You smile as Jia starts rubbing her drowsy eyes, yawning in the process.

"But I...okay," she slowly concedes, eyes fluttering shut as she gives into her sleepy state. Unsurprising to you and Yoongi, she was tired all along. But like most kids, hated going to bed.

"See?" You lay Jia in her bed and pull the covers up near her chin, giving her a light kiss on the side of her head. Yoongi bends down and does the same after you. "You just gotta talk to her a little, she'll typically fall asleep on her own."

"But I read her three of her favorite books." Yoongi shuts off the overhead light, along with the door to Jia's room, and follows you to your bedroom.

"That's different Yoon," you argue back. "Books excite her."

"She takes after you that way then." Yoongi pulls his t-shirt off, leaving him bare-chested, and climbs onto his side of the bed. You join him shortly after with your head resting on his chest and an arm thrown around his waist.

"I'm so exhausted," you yawn.

"Go to sleep, baby. I'm right here." Your husband places a hand over your wrapped arm, sending you off into a deep slumber.

Well this is just ironic. Almost 2 A.M. and you're wide awake.

What initially started as a nice, relaxing dream quickly turned into a terrible nightmare. In the dream, you woke up alone. Yoongi was gone. Jia was gone too. You can't exactly make sense of it, except for a vague memory of Jia calling another woman 'Mom'. You couldn't see her face very well, so it could've been anyone. You couldn't speak either, so even when you tried approaching the three, they couldn't hear you. You've had nightmares plenty of times, but this one is new. It's a clear projection of all the underlying concerns upheaved from earlier; insecurities, abandonment, loss, and it has you unsettled.

You glance over to your husband's side of the bed. He's fast asleep, no longer cuddling you due to you both flip-flopping in your sleep. You decide to slide closer to him, needing to watch him for a while. It might sound weird, but you love watching him sleep. He's so handsome and you feel a great deal of comfort doing so. Maybe if he was awake, you'd tell him about what you dreamt. Then again...maybe not.

"I love you Yoon," you whisper as quietly as you can, tracing his every facial feature with your eyes.

"'m, I love you too."

Is he-was he awake? As if caught red-handed, you quickly flit your face away in favor of the blank ceiling above. You weren't expecting him to answer at all, and in such a hoarse voice too. You're a little turned on by it to be honest.

"Can't sleep?" he speaks up again, eyes still closed.

"No, I''ll be okay though. You can go back to sleep. Don't worry."

He grunts, a tad unhappy with your dismissal of him. "Do you want to talk about it? Your dream?"

You whip your head in his direction. "How–" You pause, seeing his eyes blink open.

"I didn't meet you just yesterday, doll. I know they keep you up. Just know, I'm always here okay? Always." He reaches for you with delicate fingers as he continues. "Now, come here. Seems we got separated in our sleep."

You accept the offer and cuddle into him again. This time your noses nearly touch and his arm wraps around your lower waist. You feel the growing urge to kiss him, wanting to forget your nightmare entirely. But perhaps silly, you ask permission first, seeing as he's close to drifting off again.

"Yoon?"

"Mm."

"Can we kiss?" Your cheeks flush a little at the request. Why are you acting like this? You've been married for years.

"Sure, 'm tired but I could go for a make-out right now." A small smirk graces his lips as he teases you. You give him a classic 'Yoongi!' in reply. "I'm kidding. You don't ever have to ask me that," he finishes.

"Hmm, maybe I don't want a kiss anymore." You feign stubbornness, just to see his response. And a response he gives you, more than you're prepared for.

"You're ridiculous," he grumbles, capturing your lips in one fell swoop. He moves his lips against yours as the hand on your waist grips tighter. The tiniest of moans escapes your lips.

You attempt to break the kiss first, thinking it will only last for a few seconds. Yet Yoongi slips a hand behind your neck to bring you into another kiss. One that's deeper than the last. You feel your breath being taken away little by little, especially when his tongue licks into your mouth. God, you haven't kissed like this in an eternity. A wetness soon gathers between your thighs.

"'m, Yoon," you gasp when his cool fingers sneakily make their way under your shirt, tickling your bare skin. They travel the expanse of your waist, stomach, and up along your back. "So cold."

Yoongi pulls away from the kiss and retracts his fingers. He then lazily moves his body until his chest hovers over your own, rolling you on your back in the process. He's a bit of a blur due to the dimness of the room, yet you can see the whites of his eyes a bit better than before.

"Help me warm them then," he says, folding his hands on top of yours from where they rest on your stomach. "You're really burning up, doll."

His observation is right. Ever since you woke up, you're body's been hotter than normal. The stress is clear and it's only increasing due to the unexpected turn of tonight's events; your husband seemingly wanting to make love to you in the middle of the night.

"So I am," you reply, staring straight into his eyes. "Must be because of all the sudden surprises today. My body's finally responding to it all."

Yoongi nods, following your implication. "Well let's do something to calm it down, shall we?" He waits for your final go before making any abrupt movements.

"But...you haven't seen me–"

"Naked in a while?" he predicts your next words, unfazed. "I've seen it all, each time better than the last because I love you. You're beautiful to me, no matter what. Let me love you __. I've missed you. I've missed us."

"Okay...please," you sigh, desperately needing his touch. "It's been so long since we've been this close."

Neither of you has it in you to delay another second as you dive into another fiery kiss, your hands wandering up and down each other's bodies. You love his hair the most, so you run your fingers through it repeatedly. Your husband's soft grunts remind you that it's as pleasurable for him as it is for you, and as if to counter, he latches his lips to the curve of your neck.

"Yoon," you moan, shivering at the feeling of being peppered in open-mouth kisses. Your eyes automatically roll up as well.

Yoongi nips at your jaw next, featherlike, yet deadly to you nevertheless. He doesn't allow himself to linger more than a second, though, preferring to keep you on your toes. So with careful fingers, he begins lifting the bottom of your shirt.

"Can I?"

You hum in approval and lean forward for him to remove it.

With your nipples now exposed to the brisk air, stiffening due to arousal, Yoongi brings both his hands up to caress your boobs. He's incredibly gentle, telling you how beautiful you are once again until his thumbs start circling your peaked nipples. A rush of sensation shoots up your spine as he rolls them harder, flicking them once in a while.

"Fuck," you swear.

"Feeling good?"

All you do is nod fervently in response, which Yoongi takes as his signal to lower his head to your chest. He squeezes both breasts in his hand before wrapping his mouth around a nipple, licking and sucking relentlessly. He repeats the same to the other.

"Yoongi, I need you. Please." You're core tightens, thighs struggling not to rub together, as you plead with your husband to relieve you. You are so wet and getting wetter.

"I'm here, doll, I got you. Fingers first hm?"

He pushes part of the comforter towards the foot of the bed, then gestures for you to raise your butt. Any shred of mystery of how worked up he's gotten you slip away as he pulls your underwear and pants down your legs. They both get tossed on the floor, per usual.

Bare pussy exposed, Yoongi guides your legs further apart and brings a hand down to your entrance. One of his long, slender fingers traces up your folds so smoothly that you buck your hips upon the touch. He smiles lightly at the subtle response, pleased that you're finally enjoying yourself; too often you put your needs last. His finger slowly sinks into your well-lubricated pussy, velvety walls clenching around it.

"Oh, g-god," you give a shaky moan as his finger pumps and curls in you, stimulating your g-spot. "Need you now, Yoon, so bad."

"Mm not yet, we need to stretch you out. You haven't taken me for a good three or four weeks," he smirks at your eagerness, sliding a second finger next to the first. "This pussy is drenched but not enough. I need you to come. Can you do that for me?"

Fast, quick movements follow suit as your husband works you up to an orgasm. Oh fuck, oh fuck, you chant in near whines. Your pussy is spasming around him, walls tightening with each push and pull. You know when he draws his hand out that it's covered with your come. Messy, sex is messy and both of you are too far gone to care; the pleasure sweeping over you.

Finally, in what feels like an endless tease, you have your first orgasm of the night. You feel your body relaxing into the mattress again, yet your breath remains short. Yoongi, on the other hand, groans seeing your release dripping down your thighs and onto the sheets. For a split second, there's a slight darkening in his eyes while he takes in your post-orgasmic form. The two fingers that had been inside you are sensually brought to his lips, slipping between the seam before being cleaned off.

You're taken aback by the action, though you've witnessed it before. Something about watching your husband willingly follow through with a gesture so lewd makes your head spin–you want him to fuck you right this instant. He must share the same feeling because you don't even need to sound the words due to his hands already making quick work of his pants.

"You drive me mad, you know that? Can never get a break with how sweet you taste. Your lips, your come. All of it makes me go mad." His full length comes in view, hard and tip leaking with pre-cum. You try not to let yourself stare at the thickness but hell, you must've forgotten the extent of your husband's size. You don't remember it being this big before.

"Well," you gulp. "You're not making it easy on me either, looking like this."

Yoongi climbs over to you again, settling into a straddled position, and looks deep into your eyes. "Who's fault do you think that is?"

"It's your fault." You bend your legs and wrap them around his mid-section. You can feel the tip of his cock tease at your entrance. The anticipation is beyond grueling.

"No," he says, aligning himself up to your weeping hole. "it's yours." He then thrusts his hips forward, his length sinking into you so perfectly it has you completely satisfied.

"Y-Yours," you whimper out, unable to form a steady sentence.

"Fine." He picks up his pace. "Let's just agree we both fuck each other up on a daily---ah fuck!" Yoongi growls and gives you a suspicious look when he feels your pussy suddenly clench around his length.

"I didn't do it on purpose this time! You're fucking me too good is all."

"Really? You're not just teasing me?"

Yoongi is slow to believe since you've purposefully clenched countless times before, simply out of playfulness. Tonight is different than those nights though because you're telling the truth–he's truly fucking you so good.

"What the hell," he concedes. "You feel so fucking fantastic, I don't even care." He continues his movements, thrusting into you with deep groans and labored breaths. His fingers grip the mattress harder with the veins in his neck bulging out.

Both your bodies move in sync as the familiar sound of skin slapping on skin echoes off the walls of your bedroom. You do your best to keep your moans low, not wanting to risk waking up your daughter.

"Yoon, fuck! I need to come, it's gonna-fuck-happen soon," you swear, pussy throbbing at the feeling of being so full after weeks of abstinence. You can tell you're reaching your high with the bundle of nerves in your core threatening to snap at any given moment.

Of course, you're wet too, extremely wet.

"I'm. Nearly. There." He barely sounds the words out, jaw clenching. "Just another minute, and we can finish together."

Your eyes, which haven't left his since he entered you, begin to glass over with tears. It's overwhelming; his love for you. No matter the doubts that tell you the opposite, you can't give in to their ugly lies. You'll continue to struggle, naturally, but you won't ever let them win. Yoongi's never once given up on you, and neither should you.

"I love you, Yoon...I love you with all my soul," you choke the words, falling apart all at once. "I'm sorry for today. How jealous and irrational I got."

"Don't apologize, doll. I shouldn't have let it go so far, our lack of intimacy and alone time. I promise we're going to make it all right okay?"

Giving you one last thrust, you both have your release at the same time. Yoongi helps ride your orgasm out by lazily continuing to grind into you. Yeah, you might need to shower and switch out the sheets after tonight, but you don't regret it one bit.

"In all seriousness baby," Yoongi speaks up, guiding your legs back on the soft mattress until you’re comfortable. "Don't feel like you have to apologize for everything. I understand your feelings and where you were coming from. I will say, the silent treatment kills me though. I'd rather you yell at me than not talk to me at all."

"It's not easy for me to raise my voice like that, Yoon." You throw your arms around his neck and sigh softly. "But I can try talking to you more, or at least tell you I need some time to process before I'm ready to have a conversation. I don't know, am I making sense?"

"Plenty of sense. I'll share more about my day with you and who I'm talking to as well. We'll also carve out time to have together. I love our daughter, but I don't see the harm in reaching out to our friends and family to babysit once in a while."

"Well, this sounds good to me," you hum.

"Me too." Yoongi smiles wide and goes in for another warm kiss. Your eyes flutter shut in unison.

This is what love feels like.

a/n: LMK what you think 🥰

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no reposting, copying, or translating my work– © kookslastbutton

#yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst #yoongi x reader #yoongi fanfic #bts imagine #bts smut #bts fluff #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts au #fic:whatlovefeelslike #kookslastbutton

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soracities · 1 year

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what are your suggestions for starter poetry for people who dont have strong reading/analysis backgrounds

I've answered this a few times so I'm going to compile and expand them all into one post here.

I think if you haven't read much poetry before or aren't sure of your own tastes yet, then poetry anthologies are a great place to start: many of them will have a unifying theme so you can hone in based on a subject that interests you, or pick your way through something more general. I haven't read all of the ones below, but I have read most of them; the rest I came across in my own readings and added to my list either because I like the concept or am familiar with the editor(s) / their work:

Staying Alive: Real Poems for Unreal Times (ed. Nick Astley) & Being Alive: The Sequel to Staying Alive (there's two more books in this series, but I'm recommending these two just because it's where I started)

The Rattlebag (ed. Seamus Heaney and Ted Hughes)

The Ecco Anthology of International Poetry (ed. Ilya Kaminsky & Susan Harris)

The Essential Haiku, Versions of Basho, Buson and Issa (ed. Robert Hass)

A Book of Luminous Things (ed. Czesław Miłosz )

Now and Then: The Poet's Choice Columns by Robert Hass (this may be a good place to start if you're also looking for commentary on the poems themselves)

Poetry Unbound: 50 Poems to Open Your World(ed. Pádraig Ó'Tuama)

African American Poetry: 250 Years of Struggle and Song (ed. Kevin Young)

The Art of Losing: Poems of Grief and Healing (ed. Kevin Young)

Lifelines: Letters from Famous People about their Favourite Poems

The following lists are authors I love in one regard or another and is a small mix of different styles / time periods which I think are still fairly accessible regardless of what your reading background is! It's be no means exhaustice but hopefully it gives you even just a small glimpse of the range that's available so you can branch off and explore for yourself if any particular work speaks to you.

But in any case, for individual collections, I would try:

anything by Sara Teasdale

Devotions / Wild Geese / Felicity by Mary Oliver

Selected Poems and Prose by Christina Rossetti

Collected Poems by Langston Hughes

Where the Sidewalk Endsby Shel Silverstein

Morning Haiku by Sonia Sanchez

Revolutionary Letters, Diane di Prima

Concerning the Book That Is the Body of the Beloved by Gregory Orr

Rose: Poems by Li-Young Lee

A Red Cherry on a White-Tiled Floor / Barefoot Souls by Maram al-Masri

Deaf Republic by Ilya Kaminsky

Tell Me: Poems / What is This Thing Called Love? by Kim Addonizio

The Trouble with Poetry by Billy Collins (Billy Collins is THE go-to for accessible / beginner poetry in my view so I think any of his collections would probably do)

Crush by Richard Siken

Rapture / The World's Wife by Carol Ann Duffy

The War Works Hard by Dunya Mikhail

Selected Poems by Walt Whitman

View with a Grain of Sand by Wislawa Szymborska

Collected Poems by Vasko Popa

Under Milkwood by Dylan Thomas (this is a play, but Thomas is a poet and the language & structure is definitely poetic to me)

Bright Dead Things: Poems by Ada Limón

Teaching My Mother How to Give Birth by Warsan Shire,

Nostalgia, My Enemy: Selected Poems by Saadi Youssef

As for individual poems:

“Wild Geese” by Mary Oliver

[Dear The Vatican] erasure poem by Pádraig Ó'Tuama // "The Pedagogy of Conflict"

"Good Bones" by Maggie Smith

"The Author Writes the First Draft of His Weddings Vows (An erasure of Virginia Woolf's suicide letter to her husband, Leonard)" by Hanif Abdurraqib

"I Can Tell You a Story" by Chuck Carlise

"The Sciences Sing a Lullabye" by Albert Goldbarth

"One Last Poem for Richard" by Sandra Cisneros

"We Lived Happily During the War" by Ilya Kaminsky

“I’m Explaining a Few Things”by Pablo Neruda

"Stopping By Woods on a Snowy Evening" //"Nothing Gold Can Stay"//"Out, Out--" by Robert Frost

"Tablets: I // II // III"by Dunya Mikhail

"What Were They Like?" by Denise Levertov

"Those Winter Sundays" by Robert Hayden,

"The Patience of Ordinary Things" by Pat Schneider

“I, too” // "The Negro Speaks of Rivers” // "Harlem” // “Theme for English B” by Langston Hughes

“The Mower” // "The Trees" // "High Windows" by Philip Larkin

“The Leash” // “Love Poem with Apologies for My Appearance” // "Downhearted" by Ada Limón

“The Flea” by John Donne

"The Last Rose of Summer" by Thomas Moore

"Beauty" // "Please don't" // "How it Adds Up" by Tony Hoagland

“My Friend Yeshi” by Alice Walker

"De Humanis Corporis Fabrica"byJohn Burnside

“What Do Women Want?” // “For Desire” // "Stolen Moments" // "The Numbers" by Kim Addonizio

“Hummingbird” // "For Tess" by Raymond Carver

"The Two-Headed Calf" by Laura Gilpin

“Bleecker Street, Summer” by Derek Walcott

“Dirge Without Music” // "What Lips My Lips Have Kissed" by Edna St. Vincent Millay

“Digging” // “Mid-Term Break” // “The Rain Stick” // "Blackberry Picking" // "Twice Shy" by Seamus Heaney

“Dulce Et Decorum Est”by Wilfred Owen

“Notes from a Nonexistent Himalayan Expedition”by Wislawa Szymborska

"Hour" //"Medusa" byCarol Ann Duffy

“The More Loving One” // “Musée des Beaux Arts” by W.H. Auden

“Small Kindnesses” // "Feeding the Worms" by Danusha Laméris

"Down by the Salley Gardens” // “The Stolen Child” by W.B. Yeats

"The Thing Is" by Ellen Bass

"The Last Love Letter from an Entymologist" by Jared Singer

"[i like my body when it is with your]" by e.e. cummings

"Try to Praise the Mutilated World" by Adam Zagajewski

"The Cinnamon Peeler" by Michael Ondaatje

"Last Night I Dreamed I Made Myself" by Paige Lewis

"A Dream Within a Dream" // "The Raven" by Edgar Allan Poe (highly recommend reading the last one out loud or listening to it recited)

"Ars Poetica?" // "Encounter" // "A Song on the End of the World"by Czeslaw Milosz

"Wandering Around an Albequerque Airport Terminal” // "Two Countries” // "Kindness” by Naoimi Shihab Nye

"Slow Dance” by Matthew Dickman

"The Archipelago of Kisses" // "The Quiet World" by Jeffrey McDaniel

"Mimesis" by Fady Joudah

"The Great Fires" // "The Forgotten Dialect of the Heart" // "Failing and Flying" by Jack Gilbert

"The Mermaid" // "Virtuosi" by Lisel Mueller

"Macrophobia (Fear of Waiting)" by Jamaal May

"Someday I'll Love Ocean Vuong" by Ocean Vuong

"Still I Rise" by Maya Angelou

I would also recommend spending some times with essays, interviews, or other non-fiction, creative or otherwise (especially by other poets) if you want to broaden and improve how you read poetry; they can help give you a wider idea of the landscape behind and beyond the actual poems themselves, or even just let you acquaint yourself with how particular writers see and describe things in the world around them. The following are some of my favourites:

Upstream: Essays by Mary Oliver

"Theory and Play of the Duende" by Federico García Lorca

"The White Bird" and "Some Notes on Song" by John Berger

In That Great River: A Notebook by Anna Kamienska

A Little Devil in America: Notes in Praise of Black Performance by Hanif Abdurraqib

The Book of Delights by Ross Gay

"Of Strangeness That Wakes Us" and "Still Dancing: An Interview with Ilya Kaminsky" by Ilya Kaminsky

"The Sentence is a Lonely Place" by Garielle Lutz

Still Life with Oysters and Lemon by Mark Doty

Paris, When It's Naked by Etel Adnan

#ask #anonymous #beginner guides

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sarafroot · 5 months

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HELLO! I originally followed you for TLOU stuff and since I’m not into currently bc Reasons I deep dived into the hunger games and then guess what I saw!! Your THG fan art which made me eeee!! So happy bc it was so cute. So this is my request or suggestion rather bc I’m never under the impression artists have to create anything they don’t want. Also for that reason I’m giving multiple!:

Bonus points for a book accurate Katniss bc I love book accurate Katniss (meaning teenager and olive skinned) :p I think Jlaw did great ofc but book Katniss holds something special in my heart and there’s Collins Criticism with race etc. anyways I will be feral for anything THG tbh 😂

- Peeta eating cheese buns or being Domestic in other ways ( like the book making in catching fire or end of mockingjay)

- Katniss and Prim being sisters, optional: Buttercup!

- Haymitch and his geese, Katniss and her hunting, and Peeta and his baking or something like that

Also I hope you get to TBOSAS book and movie!! It’s different but I loved them so I hope you do to as a THG fan :) (the songs are sooo good)

Have a great day!!

YAY I’m glad!!!!!!

#ask #my art #the hunger games #katniss everdeen #primrose everdeen #buttercup

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meraki-yao · 4 months

Text

I'm here once more to talk about RWRB fan culture difference :D

Okay so the thing is people in China can't access Prime, so they watch a "pirated" version on Bilibili, the closest Chinese platform to YouTube

And on most Chinese video platforms, including Bilibili, there's this thing called "bullet comments", which are comments that float across the screen as the scene is playing, so the audience can comment in real-time (according to my sister: 'it's like a twitch chat but instead of staying in the chatbox as god intended everything flies across the screen like a flock of deranged geese')

And it can be problematic at times, especially when people start an argument with bullet comments, as it is with idol culture-related videos

But for RWRB, for the most part, the bullet comments are civil

Now the fun thing is that you can get genuinely wonderful comments like these:

He was alone on an island, but then he came...

He swims toward the little prince, and since then the lonely island blossoms like spring, a neverending glorious summer.

The freeing wind of Texas breezed past the Atlantic Ocean, awakening the dying rose of the London Castle

"Idealistic" is good, we need "idealistic" works to show people another possibility

Statues tell the stories of a million lives, and they are an ordinary pair among them

But then you also have hilarities like these:

The entire pink circle is literally just feral screaming, 啊="AHHHHHH"

Ha, I put on my earphones

I'm overwhelmed by the gays

Poor security guard (Amy) Hahahahahaha

Alex: These Flowers are really flowery

Henry: OMG These books are so bookish

In moments of awkwardness, everyone will pretend they are really busy

I'm on the streets...What do I do

Wait! Who's the top! (yeah top or bottom is a.. weirdly strict thing in Chinese LGBT culture)

Remember to pull the curtain!!!!

Fuck Me Am I allowed to watch this?

I really like a quote from Bilibili audience's: "AHH???"

So when I watch stuff on Bilibili, I have to watch it twice: once for the actual video, and once for the *chef's kiss bullet comments that are either poems that I copied down onto my notebook or things that make me laugh until I choke

I really want to share more of these comments, but there are like thousands of them and certain things can't be translated into English. Maybe I'll go through it scene by scene and pick out some fun ones that I can translate?

#rwrb #red white and royal blue #rwrb movie #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #henry hanover stuart fox #firstprince #taylor zakhar perez #nicholas galitzine #rwrb rambles #rwrb memes #I really wanna show some of the good things from the Chinese RWRB fandom to yall #rwrb bullet comments

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neil-gaiman · 1 year

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Hi Neil! We were talking about Puck of Pook's Hill in one of my seminars, and we were wondering if your Puck in The Sandman was inspired by that book?

Yes and no. Puck of Pook's Hill is hugely influential on me and the way I think about the land and Sussex, and I'm sure it was an influence on Sandman #19.

But my wild Puck is closer to the Robin Goodfellow of the ballad:

From Oberon, in fairy land, The king of ghosts and shadows there, Mad Robin I, at his command, Am sent to view the night-sports here. What revel rout Is kept about, In every corner where I go, I will o'ersee, And merry be, And make good sport, with ho, ho, ho

More swift than lightning can I fly About this airy welkin soon, And, in a minute's space, descry Each thing that's done below the moon. There's not a hag Or ghost shall wag, Or cry, 'ware goblins! where I go; But Robin I Their feats will spy, And send them home with ho, ho, ho!

Whene'er such wanderers I meet, As from their night-sports they trudge home, With counterfeiting voice I greet, And call them on with me to roam: Through woods, through lakes; Through bogs, through brakes; Or else, unseen, with them I go, All in the nick, To play some trick, And frolic it, with ho, ho, ho!

Sometimes I meet them like a man, Sometimes an ox, sometimes a hound; And to a horse I turn me can, To trip and trot about them round. But if to ride My back they stride, More swift than wind away I go, O'er hedge and lands, Through pools and ponds, I hurry, laughing, ho, ho, ho!

When lads and lasses merry be, With possets and with junkets fine; Unseen of all the company, I eat their cakes and sip their wine! And, to make sport, I puff and snort: And out the candles I do blow: The maids I kiss, They shriek—Who's this? I answer nought but ho, ho, ho!

Yet now and then, the maids to please, At midnight I card up their wool; And, while they sleep and take their ease, With wheel to threads their flax I pull. I grind at mill Their malt up still; I dress their hemp; I spin their tow; If any wake, And would me take, I wend me, laughing, ho, ho, ho!

When any need to borrow aught, We lend them what they do require: And, for the use demand we nought; Our own is all we do desire. If to repay They do delay, Abroad amongst them then I go, And night by night, I them affright, With pinchings, dreams, and ho, ho, ho!

When lazy queans have nought to do, But study how to cog and lie: To make debate and mischief too, 'Twixt one another secretly: I mark their gloze, And it disclose To them whom they have wronged so: When I have done, I get me gone, And leave them scolding, ho, ho, ho!

When men do traps and engines set In loop-holes, where the vermin creep, Who from their folds and houses get Their ducks and geese, and lambs and sheep; I spy the gin, And enter in, And seem a vermin taken so; But when they there Approach me near, I leap out laughing, ho, ho, ho!

By wells and rills, in meadows green, We nightly dance our heyday guise; And to our fairy king and queen, We chant our moonlight minstrelsies. When larks 'gin sing, Away we fling; And babes new born steal as we go; And elf in bed We leave in stead, And wend us laughing, ho, ho, ho!

From hag-bred Merlin's time, have I Thus nightly revelled to and fro; And for my pranks men call me by The name of Robin Good-fellow. Fiends, ghosts, and sprites, Who haunt the nights, The hags and goblins do me know; And beldames old My feats have told, So vale, vale; ho, ho, ho!

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chaoticamelay · 5 months

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Good Omens characters as things my friends have said

Crowley: Gender is a joke and I'm the punch line.

Aziraphale: I just want to eat spaghetti and read my book and experience no horrors, please.

Maggie: I don't drink alcohol but I do self medicate my ADHD with three daily energy drinks, so who is the real winner here?

Anathema: Physically I am a person but spiritually I'm a Ouija board screaming "AHHHHHHHH"

Newt: Computers hate me, probably because i'm nonbinary and they're mad since that's the only language they speak.

Madam Tracy: For personal reasons, I will be dropping out to become a stripper in a lesbian bar.

Nina: When I was in high school our teacher had us read a book where the male villain was apparently attractive and I was the only girl in the class who didn't forgive him at least a little. And then the teacher wrote a comment on my essay that she was proud of me for sticking to my morals but actually I'm just a lesbian, and if it was a hot female character i would probably just try to fix her

(this one is a bit of a paraphrase bc it was while ago and a long quote)

Shadwell: I have learned that there's only so long people can listen to me talk about my obsessions, and I have ignored that completely which is why I have no friends.

Adam: I am too young and too sad for this.

Muriel: Have you considered that the question is geese and the answer must always be no?

#incorrect good omens quotes #incorrect good omens #good omens #crowley #aziraphale #maggie good omens #nina good omens #madam tracy #sergeant shadwell #newt pulsifer #anathema device #muriel good omens #should i make a part 2

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audreyscribes · 2 months

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Ω PJO DEMIGOD HEADCANONS: ⚖ NEMESIS: Goddess of Balance, Retribution, and Vengeance wheel ♎

Author's note: Hello everyone! In lieu of posting the major gods demigod headcanons, here is the minor gods version! As usual these headcanons will contain what it's like being claimed and what it's like for the respective god and cabin, followed by a small story between you, the reader, and the respective demigod of that god. Thank you for reading and please like and reblog! [PJO MINOR GODS DEMIGOD HEADCANONS MASTERLIST] Disclaimer: To new fans or strictly TV watchers of the PJO series, future spoilers for the entire PJO series books will be referenced. Read at your own risk.

When you get claimed, it’s usually after one of the following: when you help exact revenge, serve justice, or rage vengeance. Of course when you hear those words, you’re going to think you have to do one of those large, epic moments but in reality, it’s pretty simple. That can be catching something unfair, doing what is right, getting back at your opponent, or simply saying No to something when it is unjust. When you get claimed, something feels balanced within you.

If you have some reservations about being a child of Nemesis, one of your half-siblings tells you it is an honour to be a child of Nemesis. Not just because Nemesis and what she stands for is important, if not sometimes harsh, but because Ethan Nakamura. You’re told about the tale of Ethan and who he was, how he was one of the inspirations for Percy to make the gods vow to claim their children and why the Minor gods have a cabin. You’re even shown the portrait of Ethan at his own altar in the cabin, as a reminder of his sacrifice and his life. If you’re lucky enough, Percy Jackson introduces himself and welcomes you himself to the Nemesis Cabin, just saying something “it was just right”.

However, following that, they also warn you ‘an eye for an eye’ is more than what the eye can see.

If you weren’t ambidextrous before, you are now.

You’re always perfectly balanced and symmetry is important to you. Being fair is also an important factor in your life and one way or another, it will be done.

Because of the domain Nemesis presides over, your cabin becomes a place that acts like a court. You and your siblings often get asked to preside or become mediators in arguments, and be the verdict who is the wrong and who is right. But the deciding factor is always fair. This also means you can pick out lies, though probably not to the extent of a child of Apollo.

You become a believer in working hard for your efforts, and you reap the rewards. If you’re not paid or treated fairly, everyone looks out.

You know other people’s hubris by nature of Nemesis’s domain, so you know to be careful of ignorance and being modest. Just because you know other’s hubris, doesn’t mean you don’t have one.

Given Nemesis is also known to be a distributor of fortune, neither good nor bad, the Nemesis Cabin has a connection with the Tyche Cabin, the goddess of Fortune and Luck.

This isn’t a common fact, but Nemesis’ chariot is pulled by Griffins and you have a certain connection with them. If you manage to get your hands on a gryphon, and tame it, fairly, you’re allowed to ride them in camp. Just, don’t let them go near the Pegasus. Otherwise you’re going to get a long, stern lecture from Butch Walker. He’s still mad that one of the Nemesis children’s gryphons hurt Rainbow Dash.

Speaking of pets and animals, you all have a goose or geese as its Nemesis’ animal. If you have encountered geese before or played the goose game, you know it’s a perfect fit. There has been one time, the Golden Goose, that lays the golden egg; however, it comes and goes as it pleases. Some of your siblings think it is Nemesis herself but who knows? Just don’t give any of the geese a knife or sword or weapon of any kind. Please, no one has recovered from that catastrophic event yet. The Apollo cabin doesn’t want a repeat of reattaching limbs by goose related causes any time soon, even if Paulo said he was okay.

When you get claimed, the feeling of being claimed is being merged with the sweet feeling of catharsis. You got back at one of the campers who has been mercilessly bullying you and trying to establish themselves as bigger than you. Everything came to a head when the two of you were put in a spar and all the time you’ve been honing your weapon skills and observing your opponent, you’ve finally had a perfect opportunity to exact your revenge.

When you were given the moment to go, you readied your weapon, kept your grip firm, and attacked back. You pushed forward with anger and retribution as you swung and moved. You pushed your opponent further and further into a corner, and you kept knocking them onto their back, knees, and hands. You purposefully showed yourself drawing it out, showing them what it was like to be bullied and what it was like to be on the other end of their act; making them feel helpless, fearful, and shamed.

You decided to finish drawing out their punishment as you were declared the winner. People cheered for you, some louder who were once at your position, and as you raised your weapon in the air in victory, everyone gasped out and cheered harder as they saw the claim of Nemesis floating upon your head.

You stared up wide-eyed at the claim as the announcement of your claim was yelled out for everyone to hear. You felt your mouth sour slightly as you remembered faintly from your mythology lessons about who Nemesis was. You weren’t entirely sure if you followed Nemesis’ reputation and domain.

You see a boy come towards you as he looks you up and down before nodding in approval. “You’re definitely showed that you are a child of Nemesis. You delivered their punishment fairly and didn’t take it too far” he complimented.

“Thanks…but I’m not sure if being a child of Nemesis can be entirely a good thing” you said truthfully, shrugging as you did.

The guy rolled his eyes as he put his hands on his hips. “Nemesis isn’t an evil god and she’s just as important, like Ares either. The same goes for being her child. In fact it’s an honour” he said.

“How?” you asked confused.

Damien smirked before he gestured for you to follow. “Because I’m also a child of Nemesis too. My name is Damien White, and I’m also the cabin leader for the Nemesis Cabin” he introduced before taking you to the cabin. You didn’t get a chance to look at the building before he opened it and guided you to a portrait inside. You saw a japanese looking boy who seemed a bit cold, especially with an eyepatch but clearly he was important with the amount of flowers and offerings that laid on the table below his portrait.

“This was Ethan Nakamura, a child of Nemesis. He was the one who made a deal with our mother that brought back balance and helped inspire the hero Percy Jackson of the 2nd Titan War, where he used his divine wish to the gods to recognize the minor gods and their children in camp. His sacrifice is why the Nemesis cabin, and the other cabins are here” told Damien as he looked at the portrait of Ethan. He then turned to you, “Being a child of Nemesis is just as the same as the other demigods, but it’s more of an honour because our former brother.”

You felt better as you nodded. “It might take a while to wrap my head around it but... I’m glad we’re related to such a demigod.”

Damien grinned and nodded, before he guided you out of the cabin, “Come on, I’ll help you grab your stuff from the Hermes cabin and get you settled in your new place.”

You nodded and when you had packed your stuff up, Damien grabbed your stuff for you to let you and another recently claimed demigod say goodbye to the Hermes cabin members, who was just claimed as a child of Tyche. They left first, since they came a bit earlier and their cabin leader was waiting for them outside. By the time you finished saying goodbyes, you came out to see your cabin leader arguing with a girl, who was also with the new child of Tyche.

You saw Damien and the girl yelling at each other, almost getting into their faces and you thought of stepping forward to intervene, lest a cabin war breaks out. You don't know if it's a thing but you're not going to wait and find out. Before you could though, you're interrupted by a voice,

“Oh don't worry about it, those two always argue with each other but they don't ever take it too far” you heard.

You turned and saw a boy, with brown hair and blue eyes. He seemed familiar but you weren't sure where though.

“Are you sure?” you said, looking at the two arguing people.

The boy nodded as he took out his ukelele, plucking a few strings. Something to shift in the air, as you thought “Oh he's a child of Apollo maybe”. As if he heard your thoughts, you jumped when he turned to you with a smirk.

“The girl you see Damien arguing with is Chiara Benevnuti, daughter and cabin leader of Tyche, the goddess of Fortune and Luck. Nemesis and Tyche are sort of connected, so seeing their two children get along isn't unusual.”

“You call that getting along?” you replied skeptically.

“Oh, you would be surprised. One time when the two of them were stuck in the medical tent, I saw Damien move to the cot next to Chiara and the two only argued with each other when people were around” snickered Lester. “If I were ever more poetic, I would say this is a perfect haters to lovers haiku right now.”

“Wait, how do you know this? Who are you?” you asked.

The boy smiled at you and you saw his blue eyes almost seemed like the sky for a moment. The sun glowed behind his head, highlighting his brown hair into what looked like gold. A shiver ran through you and you had an inkling of who this guy was. “My name is Lester Papadopoulous, nice to meet you.”

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xetswan · 9 months

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The Switch Of Daylight- Birthday Wishes

(Youngest Shadow New Moon)

[One] [Two]

Charlie and I are downstairs, getting the gifts ready right before we make our way up to go wake up Bella.

Or she’s already up we just need to give her these presents. Charlie goes up first with me behind him excited. He knocks on the door once and then enters. “Happy Birthday, Bells.” He says. “Dad, [Name] we agreed no gifts.” She tells us and I roll my eyes. “At least mines is not wrapped.” He hands her a digital camera, “Okay, this is actually kind of great. Thanks, Dad.” She grinned at it, Charlie then gives her another gift, this time it was wrapped.

“Goes with this one, from your mom. We coordinated- well, she coordinated me.” He explains and I smirk as I did hear all their phone calls. “Mines not a part of it.” I hand her mine, “Don’t open it yet.” She nods and places it next to her. She opens the gift from Mom, it’s a scrapbook. “To put your pictures in, record your senior year.” He says then pauses as he thinks for a moment. “Man, senior year. How’d you get old so fast.” He teases her. “Not that old,” Bella mutters.

“I don’t know, is that a wrinkle.” He jokes but Bella freaks out, racing over to her mirror, searching for the wrinkle. “I was kidding.” He huffs. “So not funny Dad.” She grunts.

Charlie makes his leave and I close the door behind him. “Open my gift.” I grin. “[Name]-” “I don’t want to hear it.” I cut her off, shoving the gift in her arms. I patiently wait as she opens it. There lay two silver bracelets in a box. Had two charms each on both, hers having a dark blue gem then a plate that had the words “Love you, always” engraved into it. Mine had a red gem with the same saying. She smiles and then pulls me into a hug. “I keep forgetting how cold you are now.” She laughs, stepping back and we put the bracelets on one another. “I love it, thank you.” She jingles it around and I snicker, doing it back.

“I’m glad because I had no idea what to give you. But I wanted to piss you off with a gift.” I winked, and before she could say anything back I was already out the door.

I rode my motorcycle to school, I had told Angela that I’d give her this book I owned but I kept forgetting. Pulling into the school Angela’s already jogging over to me. “You brought it?” I then let my face drop jokingly, she doesn’t know I’m joking though. “It’s okay if you forgot again-” I cut her off with my own laughter, pulling out the book from my backpack. She sighs and chuckles too, taking the book from me. “I had to.” I bump her and then stand up from my bike. Taking off my helmet and placing it on the bike. I turn back to her with a smile, fixing my hair as well.

“I miss your septum.” She suddenly says and I raise a brow. She starts to stammer as I patiently wait for her to let it out. “I mean, I didn’t actually mean to say that out loud it’s just um, you got rid of it out of nowhere it was a part of you and now it’s like an empty... Space.” I cross my arms, kind of agreeing with her. “I guess that’s true.” I shrug. I walk her to the others but not even within minutes Bella comes and they rush over to her truck like a flock of geese.

I watch as Bella forces them to take pictures on her new camera, they all have fun with it even though Angela doesn’t like pictures she joins in as well. It was cute. It ended as fast as it started though once that familiar Volvo pulls into its normal parking space. I smirk as their faces falter. “Oh good, Cullen’s here.” I hear Mike say dryly. “Yay,” Jessica adds. They walk back over to where I was. Jessica turns to me “You’re dating the other two but you’re not like obsessed with them.” If only she knew. I shrug, “Too many homophobic and judgy people for that.” They all give me a look. “You know I’m right.” I laugh, I then notice Jacob running towards my sister, Edward seems very irritated. I didn’t even realize the group went away from me as arms wrapped around my waist, lips kissing my shoulder. I take the arms, pulling the person in front of me, I already knew it was Alice. We stood there waiting for Jasper to join us.

We walk into the school together. Alice and Jasper holding hands. Alice was holding a wrapped gift in her other hand. “Do you think she will like it?” She asks me and I take an annoyed breath. “Bella doesn’t like gifts in general but she will appreciate them.” I was not annoyed with Alice, but more with my sister who acts like she doesn’t secretly like the attention she inevitably will always get on her birthday. We went to the side of the hall, I kiss Jasper’s cheek. “Hey, cowboy.” He scoffs a laugh, rolling his eyes. Ever since he told me his backstory I’ve been teasing him about being a “cowboy”. “Hi, darling.” He whispers for me to hear. I peek over to see Alice staring at us, we look slightly down at her since she is shorter than us.

I pull her into our arms, she looks up and pecks at my lips. “You know for your birthday you’re going to get spoiled, right?” She tells me in a matter-of-fact tone. “I look forward to everything you wish to give me.” I place my hands on her hips as Jasper then points out that Bella and Edward are walking through the door. As Jasper and I walk slowly Alice skips over to my sister, presenting the present. “Happy-” “Shhh” Alice hugs her, leaning over to her ear and whispering “Birthday.” Over Alice's shoulder, she makes eye contact with Jasper who offers a nod. She pulls back from Alice, trying to hide the gift. “Alice, didn’t I say no gifts?”

“You did, I didn’t. I’ve already seen you open it and guess what? You loved it!” She excitedly says. “You had a vision about my birthday.” Bella seemed annoyed but I knew she appreciates my girlfriend. “And about the green dress, you’ll be wearing to your party tonight. Great color on you.” She compliments her, also giving away the fact that she’s throwing a party for her.

“My party?”

“Please? It’ll be fun.” Alice pleads, I hold Jaspers's hand. “Can I?” He only nods and I drain his energy then focus on Bella who slumps, defeated. Only because I’m controlling her emotions. “I guess I can deal-” “Great! See ya at seven!” Alice hugs her before racing off before she can change her mind. I laugh, squeezing Jasper’s hand as a thank you. “Wait, Jasper, no fair with the mood control.” She pouts and he gives her an apologetic nod. “Wasn’t me,”

“Was me!” I called, we get dragged off by Alice leaving my sister slightly upset.

I told Charlie about the party, I was wearing this black suit that Alice requested I wear. Lately, she’s been dressing me in what style she thinks fits me best. Very fancy stuff I might add. I left on my bike to go help finish setting things up.

Getting there I was set to be with Carlisle on some things. I hold my hands behind my back pretending to act innocent. “Do you think I can change without Alice getting upset?” I ask him and he laughs shaking his head. “No, not at all.” We lean against the kitchen counter, watching Alice who is making sure everything is perfect. “I figured.” I take off the jacket to the suit though.

Bella and Edward finally make their way into the house, she’s wearing the exact dress Alice told her about in her vision. I smile, finishing up with Carlisle before heading over to Jasper, giving him a quick kiss. “What was that for?” He asks and I kiss him again. “Just wanted to,” I tell him happily. “You look amazing.” He compliments, I roll my eyes. “I never want to wear a suit again.” He laughs in response. “I’m serious.” “I know you are.” He kisses the top of my head.

Alice comes between us, taking our hands and leading us into the living room. “You two look perfect.” We lean down so she can give us both a kiss. We stand up straight and chuckle at her as she goes to get the lovebirds upstairs.

The three make their way down the steps, and Bella is immediately embraced by Esme and Carlisle. “Sorry about all this. We tried to rein Alice in.” He humors her. “Like that’s even possible. Happy Birthday, Bella.” Esme steps back with a grin on her sweet face. I notice Alice holding up a camera right as she clicks it to go off. The flash startled my sister a tiny bit. “Found it in your bag. You mind?” She asks, Bella shakes her head no as in she doesn’t mind.

“Dating an older woman. Hot.” Emmett speaks up to Edward. I hide my face in Jaspers's shoulder laughing. “What?” He asks defensively after Edward had elbowed him.

Rosalie then steps up, handing Bella a silver package. “It’s a necklace. Alice picked it out.” She walks away. Short. Not sweet. But short.

Bella finally looks over to Jasper and I. She waves and I know it’s for him, he does it back and I smile, proud of him. Alice snaps a picture of him and I then back to Bella. “Show me the love!” Edward pulls Bella into an embrace, they look deeply into one another's eyes. Another flash. “For your scrapbook. Now open your presents.” She drags the girl over to a table with a pile of gifts, a huge cake, and a stake of chine plates.

“Alice, I’m the only one who even eats.” She motions to the huge cake. “Hope your hunger. Here, this one’s from Emmett.” Everyone crowds around, I stand in front of Jasper. Bella opens it to see an empty car radio box. “Um… thanks?” She looked up, confused. “Already installed it in your truck.” He proudly states.

“Finally a decent sound system in that piece of-” “No hating on the truck. Thank you, Emmett.” Bella smiles then Alice hands her another gift. “Open mine.” Bella starts to open it then she cuts her finger on the wrapping. “Ouch, paper cut.” Blood appears and I feel Jasper tense and I get pushed aside. “No!!” I shouted as he lunges at my sister. Edward flings Bella behind him causing her to crash into the table. The plates shattered beneath her. I run over to her as Edward shoves Jasper into the wall but he ricochets off it and comes back at Bella. Emmett along with Carlisle tackles Jasper to the ground, Alice holds him whispering to him to comfort him. I groan at the scent of her blood, trying to help her. My jaw tensed.

Bella lifts her arm up and a pool of blood leaks out. I grunt, getting her to stand up. “I need to get out of here,” I say through gritted teeth. Accidentally pushing her onto Carlisle I storm out of the house. Not even moments later Emmett and Rosalie bring out Jasper.

I stare at him, draining his energy, his snarls coming to a complete stop. The two let him go and he falls to the ground as he’s losing more and more control of himself. I don’t even realize how far I am going. “[Name]! Calm down!” Alice shoves me back and I stumble back. He lays there collecting himself. “He- My sister. I am not sorry!” I rub my face, and looking back at him I notice dark circles under his eyes.

“I didn’t mean to go that far.” I bow my head down. “I forgive you, I need the night to myself and my sister though,” I tell them both, frowning at the sight. I go back inside and Edward was waiting outside of the door where Bella was getting cleaned up.

“You hurt her.” I spit out, his eyes glancing up at me. “You have brung nothing but trouble to our lives,” I tell him with sincerity. “I wouldn’t have been a monster if it was for you entering her life.” I point a finger at his chest, but he doesn’t respond. “I am angry that I now have to risk her life just from a cut.” I shove him into the wall. “You will fix this.” I furrow my eyebrows angrily at him, pushing him further into the wall right as the door opens. I step back. “I’m driving you home.” I grab her by the arm, she tries to get out of my grip but I don’t allow it.

“[Name]!” “Enough! You will go home with me and that is final, Bella!” I shout at her, “Enough with this game and risking your fucking life!” I scream, she finally drops down defeated and we step outside. All of the Cullens are watching, Rosalie is even tense from the scene. I let Bella climb in and I slam the door.

“You all think about this night. Think about how you’re putting my sister in danger.” I speak just loud enough for them to hear me and not her. “Am I clear?” I fold my arms. They only nod in response. “I will talk later.”

So this one is a little shorter than my last few but wanted to end this chapter here or else the next one would've been way too long for my liking. Also, Alice's height is 4'10 in the book so that's what I'm basing it off of. Jasper is 6'3 and I'm making [Name]'s 5'6 medium height bitch. I kind of got writer's block. Well not really, I can write the story in my notebook but I can't get it all on my computer because I get a little bored after a little bit. It takes me longer to come up with ideas when I'm typing compared to actually writing it might be weird but it's what I do.

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deepdonutkid · 10 months

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I really like thinking about Katiss and Peeta doing mundane things post mockingjay. Getting to do something, they enjoyed all life or starting a new hobby just to pass the time.

In my mind, Peeta is not only artsy, he is also crafty. Trying out pottery, when he visits Annie in District 4. Making a wobbly chair on the first attempt. Katniss is mocking him, by placing Buttercup on said chair. Said chair breaks. The cat is running under the couch. He laughs and tries again. Then he helps Haymitch with the coop for his geese. Haymitch yells at him for ‘doing it all wrong’ just like any mentor-daddy would.

Katniss picks up flowers and plants for her family book. Due to this she develops a love for gardening. She reads everyday and sometimes out loud to Peeta in bed. Sometimes his own story, then he takes the paper from her to correct any mistakes he had made. Sometimes she goes fishing all day at the lake.

One day, their kids come home from school and tell them, one of their classmates went camping with their family. And now they want to go camping as well. Both, Katniss and Peeta, look a bit concerned for a second, but then some much time have passed since the games.

✨the good times ✨

#thg trilogy #the hunger games trilogy #the hunger games #everlark #post mockingjay #katniss x peeta #katniss everdeen #peeta mellark

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coneyislandbabey · 1 year

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i only have eyes for you. -> g.dunne

WARNINGS: some profanities but nothing not expected in canon

SYNOPSIS: You bit Graham at preschool when you were three years old. The rest, they say, is history. word count: 3,471

TROPES: Friends to lovers, slowburn, hidden relationship

NOTES: Written for this request! Hope you guys enjoy :)

Y/N L/N: You know, I don’t remember the first time I ever met Graham. Sometimes it feels like he was always just a fact of life, that he’d always been there and he always would be.

Graham Dunne: She bit me the first time we ever met. First day of Pre-K 3, and I stole the plastic giraffe she was playing with, and she bit me. I don’t know what happened, but by the time both of our mothers arrived at the school, we’d gotten past the biting thing and were best friends.

1958

“Oh, Graham Cracker,” you sang, flying down the front steps of the elementary school, your hair, tied up in little red satin ribbons, streaming behind you. Graham was at the curb, pulling his red Schwinn bicycle carefully out of the bike rack. He had gotten it from his mother for his ninth birthday, and it quickly became his prized possession. It was shortly before Halloween, and you were sinking deeper into a Pennsylvania autumn, deep red leaves bigger than your hand falling in droves from the Maples in front of the building and twirling in the breeze around the figure of your best friend.

Graham turned at his nickname, grinning and raising a hand to wave when his pale eyes lit on you. His curls had grown a little too long, unruly, you noted, caressing the collar of his brown corduroy jacket.

“Walk home together?” he asked, once you came to a stop in front of him on the sidewalk. You adjusted the straps of your school bag on your shoulders, pulling the sleeves of your jacket down against the cold.

“But you biked,” you said, motioning to the Schwinn. He’d had it for a good few months now, but it still gleamed like it was brand new. This didn’t surprise you– you often saw him sitting on the front stoop, bike leaning against his knees and a polish rag in his hand.

“I’ll walk it home with you,” he shrugged, and before you could respond he started down the sidewalk, leaving you no choice but to fall in step beside him.

“I want to check out books on the Titanic tomorrow when we go, so you’ve got to help me find the good ones,” you informed him. The next day was Thursday, and the two of you had spent every Thursday afternoon since first grade at the library. Each week you had some new topic you wanted to read up on, and Graham, who was far less interested in even opening a book, seemed perfectly happy to follow you around the stacks, carrying your ever-growing pile of books for you as you scoured the shelves for the ones you wanted.

“Titanic is boring,” Graham said. “You should check out books about sharks. Or raptors. You know, other things that like to bite.”

“Don’t start with that,” you huffed, rolling your eyes. “You bite your best friend one time, and suddenly it’s the only thing he ever talks about.”

“I have a scar!” he shouted, waving his pale wrist in your direction. The scar in question was miniscule, barely a millimeter where one of your sharp baby teeth had managed to break the skin in the incident.

“That just means you always have a reminder of me!”

1961

“It’s not a big deal, goose,” Graham told you. Rolling your eyes at the nickname (“Geese like to bite, like someone else I know.”) you turned to where he was sprawled out on your bed, cheek squished against your blankets as he, in turn, watched you pace in front of your closet. At twelve, he had finally passed you in height, and considerably so. His hair was still a little too long and shaggy, but now it was a choice of style rather than his mother being too busy to take him for a haircut.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” you said patiently, turning back to the closet. “It’s middle school, Graham. I can’t walk in there looking like a lamb.”

Yours and Graham’s first day of middle school was looming a few days in the distance, and you’d been worrying yourself sick over making the right first impression. You didn’t want to look too young, still stuck in elementary school, but you didn’t want to look like you were trying too hard, either. You envied the ease at which Graham seemed to be making the transition; with his considerable growth spurt and the new, sharper edges of his cheekbones and jaw, he could still wear his usual corduroy pants and pullovers and still look older, new.

“You’ll be the best-dressed girl there, whatever you choose,” he responded, and the authority in his voice almost made you believe him.

“And what makes you say that,” you said instead, hand on your hip as you leveled him with a look.

“You’re the best everything girl in this town, you oughta know that by now,” he attempted to shrug in his horizontal position. You turned back to the closet without a word, hoping against god that Graham hadn’t seen the blush blazing in your cheeks. More and more often lately, Graham’s words invoked that reaction in you. You brushed the observation away, collecting yourself before nonchalantly turning back to him.

“If that’s the case, why don’t you pick out my outfit?” you asked.

“If it means we can go do something else after, then sure,” he said, picking himself up off the bed. He crossed the room to your closet in two large, easy strides, peering at the options over your shoulder.

“This one,” he said after a minute of deliberation, pulling a red pleated skirt and sweater set out, holding them in front of your face. “You always look best in red.”

You took the hangers from him, taking in the nonchalant but sincere look on his face. You didn’t quite know what to do with these compliments that Graham gave so freely, at random. You were getting to the age where some of the kids at school were going steady, or at least copying what they thought their older siblings were doing when they were going steady. You were sure you didn’t feel that way about Graham. Mostly. You had no idea what it meant to feel that way, anyhow.

“Well, red it is, then,” you said, hanging the chosen outfit up on your closet door. “Let’s bike downtown to get ice cream.”

1963

“You promised me, goose.”

“I thought you were joking! That’s so much time and effort, and it’s summer.”

You and Graham were walking a lazy, winding path through the neighborhood. It was an unusually sweltering June, and school just let out for the summer. You’d had absolutely no plans for how to spend the next few months, until Graham reminded you that, back in the winter, you had promised you would let him teach you how to play guitar.

“Why would I be joking?” Graham asked, looking at you strangely.

“I don’t know, because that kind of thing is going to take a lot of time,” you shrugged. It’s not that you thought that Graham didn’t want to spend time with you more. It’s just that things had changed. In some ways, you had always known it was bound to happen: you couldn’t be Graham’s only best friend forever. Over the last year, he had gotten a lot closer with Eddie Roundtree and Warren Rojas. You had no problems with them– you quite liked them, actually, both were funny and kind and always said hello to you in the hallway even though you yourself weren’t friends with them– but they took up so much of Graham’s time these days. You felt stupid about it, but the truth was you felt a little jilted. Jealous, maybe. You missed your Graham Cracker.

And now there was this: Graham insisting on teaching you guitar. A skill that would require practice every day. Hours and hours a week. Inadvertently, Graham was pledging hours and hours to you over the course of these languid, humid months. You put up a fuss, but you knew that you would have agreed to whatever Graham wanted to do, just to get the time with him.

“Okay, fine. If you want to so badly,” you relented, and Graham let out a little cheer.

“I’ll give you my old guitar until we can get you something better,” he said. “Come over my house tomorrow morning, we’ll start right away.”

1967

“So, we’re really doing this? Forming a band?”

You were sitting on the back steps of the Dunne house, peering up at the two Dunne brothers standing in front of you. Warren was sitting on the steps with you, Eddie standing on your other side and leaning against the railing. Over high school, Warren and Eddie had gone from being Graham’s best friends, to yours, too. They slammed into your life with a fun, somehow easygoing relentlessness, Eddie showing up to teach you how to play a song he loves on the guitar, Warren staying with you all night the first time you got high and it sent you into an awful panic attack. If you were going to form a band, you guessed that these four would be the best to do it with.

“Yeah, why not?” Graham asked.

“Hell, you’ve convinced me,” Warren said, dissolving into laughter. You shook your head fondly at him; he was higher than space.

“Alright, let’s do it,” you nodded, locking eyes with Graham as a grin spread across his face.

Graham Dunne: Oh, sure, I remember exactly when I realized I had a crush on her. We were eight. It was the dead of winter, last day of school before Christmas break. A huge snowstorm had swept through the night before, and I was waiting out in the cold by the bike rack so we could walk home together. She came out wearing this navy blue coat and matching hat, and she contrasted so much against all that snow. I mean, she was striking. I didn’t know what beautiful was, then, but I was thinking it of her. That never really left me, not the whole rest of the time we were growing up.

Y/N L/N: I don’t think I ever knew I liked Graham as more than a friend, not even all the way through high school. It just never occurred to me that I could like him like that. He was Graham, my Graham, the little boy I had bitten when we were three and who had been my best friend ever since. My brain couldn’t compute changing the way I felt about him, even if my heart had already made up its mind. All that changed, of course, after we got to Los Angeles.

“Hey, we’re going to the market, you wanna come?” Warren leaned against the doorframe to the living room, Eddie and Karen idling in the hall behind him. You and Graham were in the living room, him stretched out across the couch watching television, and you sprawled on the floor on your stomach, flipping through a copy of Rolling Stone Magazine.

“No, thanks guys,” you smiled up at them, before returning to your magazine.

“I’m good here,” Graham responded, too. Warren shrugged, and the three of them headed down the hall. You kept your eyes on the magazine, waiting to hear the front door close and the van start up.

As soon as you heard the van peeling out of the drive, you stood and practically tackled Graham on the couch. He laughed, large, calloused hands coming to grip your hips and steady you. Your knees went to either side of his waist, hands splayed across his chest as you looked down at him.

“Graham Cracker,” you grinned, and he rolled his eyes at the nickname. Beautiful eyes, you always thought. Like sea glass, or tide pools, or the Pittsburgh sky on a perfect August day. Mesmerizing even when he was rolling them at you in exasperation. Especially when.

“Goose,” he acknowledged, smirking at his own use of your annoying nickname. You didn’t give him the satisfaction of reacting to it, instead carrying on with what you were going to say.

“We’re alone,” you said, adopting the most innocent voice inflection you could manage.

“That we are,” he nodded his head against the arm of the couch.

“You gonna do something about it?”

“Hmm, maybe,” he said, pretending to think about it for a moment before tugging you forward by your belt loops. You laughed, head falling back even as the rest of you fell forward, and Graham began pressing kisses to the exposed ridge of your collarbone. You murmured his name, still laughing, and ducked your head down to capture his lips with yours, listening satisfactorily to the hum of contentment he let out.

You had all made it out to Los Angeles about a month ago, and things had changed between you and Graham almost immediately. You don’t know what did it– the thrill of change, the possibility of your future, the brand new city– but suddenly you saw Graham in all his glory, not just your life-long best friend, but a man who was sweet and caring, bashful, strong, beautiful. Everything. He had always been everything to you, you just hadn’t been able to see it. And as soon as you could see it, there was nothing to stop you from attaching to one another and never letting go.

You kept it all on the down-low, of course. Nobody else needed to know, and that’s how you both felt. The rest of the band catching wind of the change in your relationship would only lead to teasing, or them eternally poking their nose into stuff that really really was not their business. Keeping it just between you meant getting to revel in it alone, not to mention the inherent thrill of sneaking around.

“Let’s go up to your room, hmm?” you said breathlessly, detaching your mouth from his just long enough to get the words out.

“Sounds good,” Graham said immediately. In one swift motion, he stood from the couch, gripping your thighs and picking you up with him as he stood. You linked your arms around his neck, trying not to giggle like an idiot at the thought of how easy it was for him to lift you. Graham didn’t look it at first glance, but fuck was he strong.

He carried you up the stairs and down the hall to his bedroom, tossing you on the bed and kicking the door closed with his foot. You sat up, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt as soon as he was close enough and tugging him down onto the mattress with you. Just as Graham’s fingers went to the button of your shorts, you heard the front door swing open and the low murmur of voices.

“Honeys, we’re home!” Warren shouted and then laughed at himself. “Market’s closed, we’re going out to the diner instead.”

You sighed, closing your eyes and flopping back against the pillow. Graham dropped his head, curls tickling the skin over your breastbone.

“They really have great timing,” you muttered, unable to stop the laugh that escaped you.

“We could just tell them, you know,” Graham mused. “That way we could stay home and pick up where they interrupted.”

“Oh yeah, do you wanna be the one to say ‘we can’t come to the diner with you ‘cause we were about to bone’, or shall I?” you asked, raising an eyebrow and Graham laughed, rolling over to lay on his back next to you.

“Alright, you got me there. Let’s go,” he said finally, standing up from the bed. You followed him out the door, bounding down the steps ahead of him. A minute later Graham followed, joining the rest of you in the living room.

“Finally,” Eddie exclaimed, “I’m fuckin’ starving.”

* * *

Six months into living in Los Angeles, and you and Graham had gotten a little careless. Well, actually, you’d gotten way too confident. If the rest of your friends hadn’t caught you yet, you figured, there was little chance they ever would. And now with everyone working so hard all the time, it seemed that nobody had the time to stop and think about how the two of you sat practically on top of each other in the living room, or the way you were always standing flush against one another’s sides. The hints were all there, but no one was picking them up.

“I want to take you out,” Graham said. The two of you were sitting on the beach, watching the sun dip lower and lower past the horizon after a long afternoon of surfing. Or, rather, of Graham trying to teach you how to surf, and you only starting to catch on right at the end.

“What do you mean, Dunne?” you asked, turning to face him. His nose and cheeks were red with a little sunburn, the faintest spray of freckles cropping up in the area. His eyes were almost supernaturally light in the golden glow of sunset.

“I want to take you on a date,” Graham said. “And a real one, not one where we just happen to be hanging out alone. I want to take you to dinner, I want to offer you my jacket when it gets chilly as we leave, I want to bring you flowers, all of it.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, turning over the warm images it brought to mind. “Well, let’s do it. Let’s go someplace fancy to eat. I’ll wear a dress and those earring you got me– you remember, those gold hoops you gave me after graduation?– and I’ll steal your jacket and kiss you under a streetlamp and take you home with me. We can do all of it.”

Graham pulled you in close and you rested your head on his chest. He smelled like sea salt and coconut sunscreen and the briny breeze sweeping in from the dock down the beach.

“If we do that, the jig is up,” he said after a minute. “They’ll find out.”

“So let them find out,” you sighed. “Let them freak out, let them tease, because I know they will, but one day they’ll get bored of it and move on and all the while we can go on a hundred fancy dates. I want that for us.”

Graham angled his chin down as you looked up, catching his eyes and the surprised, apprehensive look on his face. “You do?”

“Yeah, what did you think? I know we’ve been sneaking around, but it’s not because I wasn’t sure of us. You’re it, Graham, you have been since we were three years old,” you told him earnestly.

“I’ve been waiting to hear you say that for, like, two decades,” Graham said, laughing in relief as he pulled your face in for a kiss.

* * *

The date had been everything you ever imagined it would be and more. You wore a slinky red dress and matching heels, the hoops Graham had given you years ago flashing amongst the strands of your hair whenever the light hit. Graham took you to a beautiful restaurant, the kind with little lamps on each of the tables, where patrons smoked cigarettes from golden cigarette cases through mother-of-pearl cigarette holders. He draped his jacket over your shoulders on the walk back to the car, and, as promised, you kissed him in the dim yellow glow of a streetlamp.

You came home, both a little drunk off of expensive champagne, Graham’s arm wrapped securely around your waist as you stumbled over the threshold and into the house. Everyone else was sitting in the living room when you got back, ogling you curiously as you walked in.

“And where have you been?” Karen asked, the first to break the silence.

“On a date,” you said simply.

“With who?” Warren asked.

The two of you pointed to each other.

“Wait, are you fucking serious?” This came from Billy, who had untangled himself from Camila in order to sit up and process the situation. “The two of you finally figured your shit out?”

“Oh, man, I never thought you’d have the balls to ask her out,” Warren laughed, tipping his head back against the back of the couch.

“Oh, shut up, Rojas,” Graham said, rolling his eyes.

“I figured you’d been dating when I met you in elementary school,” Camila said, smiling warmly at the two of you. “I’m glad that’s finally true.”

“Thanks, Cami,” you grinned. “Now, uh, we’ll see you guys later.”

You pulled Graham away from them and to the stairs, ignoring the teasing and jeers emanating loudly from the living room.

#daisy jones and the six #djats #graham dunne #graham dunne x reader #warren rhodes #warren rojas #eddie loving #eddie roundtree #billy dunne #camila dunne #karen sirko #karen karen

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