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#promised poem about my mom!
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guess who's planning on getting two tattoos based on Howl and Other Poems
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55szn · 20 days
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so american - ln4
lando norris x fem!sargeant!singer!reader smau
summary; yn sargeant releases her new song which has everyone (and her brother) wondering who is it about warnings; light cursing fc; olivia rodrigo notes; i just had to…
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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 2.891.283 others ynsargeant surprise, “so american” is yours now! hope u like it ;)
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user EXCUSE ME?????
user damn what happened to hello?? how are you?? my name is???
logansargeant what
ynsargeant surprise ?
lilyzneimer sooo good yn! been on repeat all day🫶🏻🫶🏻
ynsargeant lilyyyyyy💘💘 user since when is she friends with lily what user well she’s good friends with oscar but they never interacted with each other before, maybe they’ve hanging out more lately??
user “he’s like a poem i wish i wrote” STFUUUU MY GIRL’S IN LOVE LOVE
user god bless america fr
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MESSAGES
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ynsargeant just uploaded to their story!
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[quick ootd check🤫] [always a pleasure to be here, see u tomorrow ny🍎🫶🏻]
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ynsargeant just uploaded to their story!
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ynsargeant
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liked by landonorris, conangray and 3.568.126 others
ynsargeant life lately🧡🫂
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user there’s no way that isn’t lando
landonorris cute rings who got you those
ynsargeant some rando idk his name landonorris wow.
user that’s a hard launch if i’ve ever fucking seen one
user there she goes again with the orange hearts girl just post him you’re not mysterious 😭
user obsessed with lando flying to ny from monaco for one night just to see her in msg🥹
user ikr my girl’s finally getting the love she deserves
ynsargeant
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liked by landonorris, logansargeant and 3.643.675 others
ynsargeant papayaaaaa
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user i can’t even pretend to be shocked😭
logansargeant wrong garage but ok😞
ynsargeant they don’t give me free coffee over there alex_albon yn we are broke user no way 😭
oscarpiastri wow we’ve been friends for years and i never got you to wear any of my team’s merch
logansargeant tell me abt it landonorris i have that effect🤷‍♀️ user damn lando norrizz has rizz
landonorris 🧡🧡🧡🧡
user this comment section isn’t real😭
landonorris
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liked by carlossainz55, ynsargeant and 2.679.128 others
landonorris don’t tell her but i might just be in love as well
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user THE CAPTION
user he does not let go of that camera huh
logansargeant what’s with the hat ynsargeant that’s not very🦅💥💥🇺🇸 of you
ynsargeant i was promised that pic would not leave the camera roll. landonorris sorry baby u just looked so cute oscarpiastri get a room logansargeant don’t?
ynsargeant hahaha you in love🫵🤣
user girl you literally wrote a song about how down bad you are stfu
user mom wake up new parasocial relationship just dropped
user this post being y/n taken by lando and her post being lando taken by y/n🥹🥹🥹
user tooooootally normal abt this
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frenchkisstheabyss · 4 months
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✦ love poem ✦
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✦ Pairing: dad!choi san x pregnant!chubby!fem!reader w/ appearances by ot8
✦ Genre: fluff/light angst
✦ Summary: Being pregnant during the holidays has been hectic. Especially for your fiance San whose tight work schedule has him under pressure. But when his best friend Hwa steps in to ease the burden on him by being there for you, it creates more jealousy than Christmas cheer.
✦ Word Count: 3.5k-ish
✦ Warnings: pregnant reader, occasionally strong language, some quick lusting after San while he's in the shower (nothing graphic), & that's all.
✦ A/N: I really wanted to write something sweet with like the tiniest bit of angst so there's nothing heavy here. It's mostly just lovey dovey shit cause, I mean, I'm a lover girl. What can I say?
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Standing at the entrance of the tunnel of lights, you watch in awe as thousands of tiny bulbs twinkle to the tune of the Christmas music that coasts along the night air. Every year the local zoo holds a massive festival of lights to celebrate the holiday season. During your first year here San had plans to take you to opening night but, with his schedule being as unpredictable as it is, that never did happen. This year though, he promised that nothing would stop you from experiencing this together and he meant it.
As much as San and the rest of the boys hyped this place up to you, nothing could’ve prepared you for how breathtaking it is in person. It’s magical. The carnival rides, the little Christmas themed games, the stalls selling some of the best food you ever tasted. And the displays. They’re pure art. It may be too cold for the animals to be out but the elaborate light sculptures of them make up for it tenfold. Children race through the light tunnels while couples cuddle up in line for hot cocoa. If ever “Winter Wonderland” were a place this would have to be it.
“Stop running!” Hongjoong yells from behind you. Seconds later Mingi and Jongho dart past you in a blur. You turn in time to see the look of defeat on Hongjoong’s face as he approaches with the others close behind. “I swear sometimes they act like children,” he groans, “Take it from me. Don’t have kids. It’s not worth it.” Popping on a pair of knit gloves, Yunho gestures towards the pregnant belly rounding out your thick winter coat. “I think that advice is about 7 months too late.”
Hongjoong gasps in horror, “Oh. I mean, you know, except that one. I’m sure it’ll be a cute little thing.” You can only giggle at how flustered any mention of your pregnancy gets him. Hongjoong hasn’t quite grasped that San’s about to be someone’s dad. Even as your belly has grown, he’s managed to periodically forget what’s happening but he’s trying to be supportive and it’s sweet. Seonghwa pats you softly on the belly, laying his head on your shoulder, “Pay him no mind. She’ll be a cute little baby. Not a thing. I mean, look at her mom”
"Oh, Hwa, you’re too sweet” you blush, patting him on the cheek. “The baby! I think it kicked!” He’s right. You felt it. It’s about that time of night after all. The moment she could start kicking she did. Especially around bedtime. Suddenly they’re all gathered close around you staring at your stomach as if the baby will burst out at this very moment like some alien spawn. Woo kneels down in front of you, resting his hand behind Hwa’s. “Aah!” he squeals, “She’s saying hi to her uncles. Hi, baby!”
By now Mingi and Jongho have circled back, stopping dead in their tracks to see what all the fuss is about. “What’s going on?” Jongho asks, Mingi’s hat clenched in his hand. Mingi snatches his hat back, peering over Jongho’s shoulder, “It’s not happening is it?” Seeing the panic in his eyes, you immediately jump to calm him down, “Not yet. She’s kicking up a fuss. That’s all.” “So much like her dad already” Yeosang teases, just as San appears to push them aside. “Hands off!” he orders, shooing them away, “I go to the bathroom for two seconds and you’re already crowding my kid.”
The others just laugh, not expecting to witness such a perfect example of Yeosang’s statement so soon. “You okay? Everything okay?” he asks, fixing the scarf around your next and popping your hood over your head. “Baby, it’s not that cold.” “Temperature’s supposed to drop 5 degrees in the next half hour. Gotta stay toasty, honey.” San’s always been attentive, doing everything he could to make sure you were taken care of but the pregnancy has kicked it into overdrive.
Taking his hands, you give him a warm peck on the lips and flash a smile that soothes his worries. “I’m okay, Sannie. I promise. Now let’s go.” The tunnel’s far more mesmerizing from the inside than it is simply looking in. It feels like a portal to a different world, replacing the darkness of the night sky with constellations of red and green that guide you to the next section of the zoo. Each area has one unique to the space you’re about to step into.
A tunnel of mistletoe and vines for the flower garden. One built like a giant sleigh for the reindeer village. And that’s not even half of it. How anyone can make it through this place in one night is beyond you. Then again, not everyone is toting another human around in their belly. By the time you make it through the ice tunnel into the replica North Pole, your feet are killing you but you try to hold it together.
Between doctor’s appointments, work, redecorating the apartment, and a million other things that need to be done before the baby arrives, there’s been zero time to do anything fun. Calling it quits this early feels wrong. Especially since San's been so stressed lately. Spending time with the guys seems to be just the thing he needed to shake some of that off.
“How many more lights do we have to see before we’ve seen enough?” Mingi whines, dragging his feet. Alright, so maybe someone else is as over it as you are. Yunho slaps Mingi on the back, taking a deep breath, “Have some holiday cheer! We’re in such a beautiful place. Where else would you rather be?” “Somewhere warm! With food!” Woo adds, backing Mingi up. Jongho jumps it, never one to miss the opportunity, “And drinks! When’s the last time we all had drinks together?”
Hongjoong crosses his arms, throwing them some wicked side eye, until he realizes, “Actually it has been a while since we went out for drinks.” Woo wraps his arms around Yeosang, determined to rope him into this plan, “You in? Say yes. Say yes!” “Yeah, sure fine, whatever” Yeosang laughs, shrugging him off. Hwa clears his throat, preparing to be the bearer of bad news, “Well it’s not just us you guys. There’s kinda a 10th person here now.”
For a fleeting moment, you were able to detect some excitement on San’s face and Hwa’s words wipe it away in an instant. Everyone falls silent, not quite sure what to do with the awkwardness of the moment. “Hey,” you say, lovingly rubbing San’s chest, “Why don’t you go get those drinks?” “What? No. I’m not leaving you. We said we’d do this.” “We did and I’ve had the best time but, honestly, my feet hurt like shit.” “Then I’ll take you home and run some water so you can soak your feet” San insists, guiding you out of the way of an approaching crowd.
“San, please, for the love of god, go” you beg, looking to his friends for support. “I’ll take her home!” Hwa volunteers, “I’m not really up for drinking anyway.” San glares skeptically back and forth between the two of you. He wants to protest but he gets the sense that arguing with you is a losing battle and he’s right. “Fine” he relents, “But text me when you get home. Love you.” The way you light up when he finally gives in is one of the infinite reasons why he loves you the way that he does. “I will. Love you too.” “Love you three!” “Love you four!” you say, kissing him before Jongho begins to drag him in the other direction. “We’re not doing this all night! Let’s go!”
Parting ways is a sea of goodbyes and bickering that continues until you lose sight of the rest of the group. Hooking his arm into yours, Hwa directs you towards a festive snack stand not too far away. “Wanna eat like trash before we go home?” he offers with a mischievous grin, knowing San would murder him if he knew. You nod, playfully tearing up, “I thought you’d never ask.” 
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“Baby, have you seen my keys?” you shout from the bedroom, digging through your purse for the third time. “Huh?” San calls back, the water rushing from the shower making it impossible to hear you. Shuffling down the hall, you pop your head into the bathroom. “I was asking if you’d seen my keys.” San peeks from behind the shower curtain, shampoo bubbles dripping down his sculpted cheekbones. In an instant, you forget all about your keys. What else could possibly matter when San’s standing here dripping wet, every muscle in his defined chest glistening like gold. Snap out of it. This is how you got pregnant in the first place. 
“I saw them by the stove I think.” “Thanks, ya cutie” you wink, ready to skip off to find them. “Wait,” he says before you can make it more than a step and a half away, “You’re all dressed up. Where are you going?” Scanning your outfit, you don’t see anything particularly “dressed up” about what you’re wearing. Some knit overalls with a cozy sweater underneath and your favorite boots are far from red carpet ready in your mind. “Hwa’s taking me shopping for decorations. Don’t you remember?” San frowns, only vaguely remembering the conversation, “Why didn’t you ask me?” “I did but you said you were busy today so Hwa offered to take me.” 
Your phone dings in your pocket. You fish it out and find a text message from Hwa telling you he’s outside. “Ooh, speak of the devil. Gotta run.” Carefully, you make your way across the bathroom floor, giving him a kiss that you struggle to keep innocent with the knowledge of what’s behind the curtain. “Have fun and tell Joong I said hi! I’ll bring you back something!” you sing and you’re off to find your keys. San’s frozen in place, unable to bring himself to move an inch. Even after he’s heard the apartment door close, it takes him a second to get back to his shower.
It’s been two weeks since the light festival and you’ve seen Hwa every few days since. Every time San’s too busy to do something Hwa’s right there to help. When did he become so available? You always come home so happy too. Were you that happy with him? Letting the water wash over his head, he tries to shake away his jealous thoughts.
You moved here to be with him and, in that time, the only friends you’d made were his. Hwa’s just being a good friend to the both of you, helping when San’s unable to. Thinking that it's anything else is ridiculous. All of the long hours spent working must be getting to him. Hwa would never...
You would never...
Neither of you would...
Right? Right? 
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Pregnancy hormones. They’re the one thing no one can ever quite prepare you for. One minute you’re hanging ornaments on the tree, humming along to your music in a cozy pair of pajamas. The next you’re crying on the kitchen floor, stuffing your mouth with the cookies you baked for the holiday party tomorrow.
It’s nearly midnight and everything makes you emotional. The lights on the tree are too bright, your feet feel swollen, the cookies aren’t as sweet as you'd like, and suddenly you can’t stand the song that’s playing despite it being one of your favorites. You want everything off but then the house would be quiet and empty. You’d be reminded that you’re all alone until San comes home tomorrow and cry even harder.
You pull out your phone to call him but when you see the time you decide not to. His flight is in a few hours and he’s already told you what a long day he had. You’d hate to wake him up, to burden him any more than you feel you already have.  Just as you’re about to put your phone down it lights up. A text from Seonghwa. Some adorable video of a cat dressed up as one of Santa’s elves.
The poor thing looks miserable running around in that costume but it makes you laugh enough to stop you from spiraling. Taking a deep breath, you wipe away the tears blurring your vision and shoot a text back. 
You: Thanks. I really needed that.
Hwa: Why? Something wrong?
You: I’m having a crying thing. Kinda sad tonight.
Hwa: Need some company?
Without thinking, you type out the words “You don’t have to—” before erasing them and typing out something new. "Sure!"
It takes him no time at all to reach you. The streets are empty this time of night and he only lives a half hour away. Even if he lived two hours away—three hours away—he’d drive every single one of them to come support you. When you became someone special to San, you became someone special to him too. He’s never seen San more serious about anything than he's been about you and this baby. As much as he wishes that San would get out of his head a bit more, it’s cute to see him love something so much. 
“Anybody home?” Hwa whispers, his eyes narrowing when he notices that your front door is cracked. “Come in” you sob from the couch, blowing your nose for what feels like the 1000th time since you sent that last text. Hwa follows a trail of discarded tissues to find you curled up on the couch, as curled as you can be this far along in your pregnancy. “Hey, hey, don’t cry” he coos, easing himself down onto the couch and resting your head in his lap, “Talk to me. What’s going on?”
You try to speak but you’re too short of breath to get anything out. Hwa strokes your hair, taking slow breaths in and out, “Follow me, okay? In and out.” You shake your head in protest. The whole room is closing in around you. You can’t do it. “Just try it. For me. Please” he begs so sweetly that you can’t refuse. Deep breath in, long breath out. The same way that they taught you in those birthing classes you went to. “This is total bullshit” you’d whispered to San at one point during the class but it turns out it isn’t bullshit at all. 
After a few seconds, the tightness in your chest eases and the room begins to open up. The world isn’t falling apart anymore. You’re safe. Hwa sits with you in silence as your breathing quiets, dabbing away any rogue tears that drip down your cheeks. “Is San happy with me?” you ask, catching him off guard, “Is this too much for him, do you think?” Hwa laughs, knowing how extremely far from the truth both of those questions are. “Hwa, it’s not funny! I’m serious!” “I’m sorry! I’m not trying to make fun of you, it’s just—if you make him happy or not, that’s not a question. He’s crazy about you.”
Grabbing the small blanket folded over the back of the couch, he opens it up and tucks you in with it. “None of this is too much,” he swears, “You and her…” Hwa pokes your belly, making you giggle. “You guys are everything he’s ever wanted. He pushes himself so much because he wants to be perfect for you.” You yawn, Hwa’s presence and the warm blanket activating the exhaustion you’ve been fighting. “But he’s already perfect to me. Why can’t he see that?” “Mmm, it’s really hard sometimes to see ourselves the way other people do but he’ll come around. I promise.”
If there’s one similarity you’ve come to find between San and Hwa it’s how important promises are to them. If Hwa says he’ll come around then he will. They’d been friends for ages before you came into the picture. They’ve gone through more together than you can imagine. If Hwa's confident about it, then you have to believe it too. You drift off to sleep, your brain still spinning but much quieter now, trusting that everything will be just fine.
Right? Right? 
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“Listen to yourself. You sound crazy!” Hwa snaps, trying his hardest not to raise his voice in the midst of his anger. San tosses his bags to the floor and they hit with a thud that shakes you from your sleep. “I come home to you cuddled up on the couch with her and I’m crazy?” “She texted me last night that she was crying. What was I supposed to do?” “Tell me! And let me take care of her! She’s not yours so stop treating her like she is!”
San’s jaw clenches, the jealousy he’s been harboring turning into true pain for the first time. He thought he had this under control. Those hours of talking with Woo about how stupid his suspicions were had chased off his insecurities. But coming in, tired and cranky from his flight, to see you so peacefully cuddled against Hwa had undone all of it. He wanted to kill him and the knowledge that he was the first one you reached for when you were hurting only adds fuel to the fire currently burning his self control to ash.
“Sannie?” you squeak, stretching out your cramped limbs, “What’s going on?” You sit up, eyes still squinted, to see what all of the fuss is about. Hwa hangs his head, unable to face you, “I think I should go. If you need me I’m here for both of you.” “Wait, no!” you say, doing your best to roll off of the couch and stop him but by the time you’re on your feet he’s gone. Turning your attention to San, you immediately sense his anger. Something happened and whatever it was has him fuming.
“Baby, what happened? You can talk to—” “Is there something going on between you two?” “What?” you laugh, placing your hands on your lower back for support. You keep laughing but the sharpness of his expression never changes. He’s actually waiting for an answer. “Oh god, you’re serious. You’re actually asking me if I’m fucking Seonghwa.” “I didn’t say that.” “But that’s what you’re saying. That’s what you think of me.”
You catch yourself wanting to cry again, only this time it isn’t because of the pregnancy hormones. It’s because you waited for days to see the man you love only to be accused of something like this. San can almost see the moment your heart breaks, making him regret his doubts in an instant. “He’s been helping me because I was worried about you burning yourself out. That’s it. I wouldn’t do that to you.” Your bottom lip quivers and the tears are rushing from your eyes again. “Fuck, I’m so tired of crying” you huff, flopping back down onto the couch. 
San’s at your side quicker than he’s ever been, his arms wrapped around you like he never wants to let go. “I’m sorry! Please don’t cry. I didn’t mean it. I know you’d never do that.” “Then why were you two arguing? Why even ask me?” “Because I’m afraid” he admits, leaving you both shocked at his admission. He’s scared, terrified, so much that it keeps him up at night. “I’m afraid I’m not good enough to be what you need me to be and it was easier to be jealous than to admit that.”
You’re frustrated enough that you could slap him but your body feels so at home in his embrace that you can’t pull away. “You’re good enough for me…for us, San. You have to believe me when I say that.” “Then why do you call him when you’re crying and not me?” “Because,” you sigh, “I’m afraid too. I don’t want to lean on you too much.” “What? Lean on me too much?” he asks, almost offended, “Lean on me all you want. What do you think I work out for?”
You giggle when you feel his muscles flex against you, “San, be serious!” “I am! Lean on me, please. We’re a team. I need you to trust me to be here.” You stare at him, your eyes beautiful enough to hypnotize him even when they’re clouded with tears. “You have to trust me to be here too, you know?” San kisses your forehead, one hand gently massaging your back, “I trust you, baby.” Closing your eyes a tingly feeling washes over you. Is it love? The Christmas spirit? The tingling is chased by a contraction stronger than any period cramp you’ve ever felt.
“The baby’s coming!” you shout, gripping your stomach. San jumps back in shock as if he didn’t know you were pregnant to begin with. “Are you sure?” “You said you trust me!” “I do! I do! Hold on!” Leaning you back on the couch, San darts around the apartment collecting all of the things he’s prepared over the last few months to make you comfortable when this happens. A bag packed with clothes for you and your favorite slippers. Phone chargers, baby wipes, stuffed animals, the snacks you love. The list is endless.
“I’ll pull the car up and come back for you, okay?” he says, propping your feet up on the coffee table as he tries to put your coat on. “Just get the car. I’m okay.” “You sure?” “I’m sure and San,” you say, grabbing his arm. “Yeah?” “You’re gonna be a great dad. The best ever.” San can’t fight the smile that spreads across his face or the slight reddening of his cheeks. You believe in him, you truly do, and for the first time, he does too.
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lost-walmartbag · 11 months
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Prom with Kyle Broflovski
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Warnings: N/A
Background: In this one-shot, you and your boyfriend Kyle go to prom together
Status: Request Open
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Kyle was Wendy's vice president on the student council. Your prom was coming up but Kyle still hadn't asked you if you wanted to go. You did want to go but you wanted Kyle to ask you as cheesy as it was. You tried dropping hints that you wanted to go but it didn't seem to stick. As every day passed it made you more and more upset to the point where the prom was a week away and you were just flat-out ignoring Kyle. Kyle noticed you were upset but because he was so busy planning the prom he didn't have time to talk to you about it.
One day at lunch you were sitting with the girls while Kyle was across the room with his friends. Clyde stood up on a table drawing everyone's attention to him. He cleared his throat and looked over at Bebe.
"Oh Bebe, sweet Bebe, would you do me the honor, Of being my date to the prom, my lovely flower? I've been hoping and dreaming, for this moment so long, To dance with you all night, to the beat of our song. Your smile, your laugh. your beauty so fair, Make my heart skip a beat, and forget all my care. I promise to treat you like a queen, with love and respect, and make this night unforgettable, a memory to protect. So Bebe, my dear, will you say yes to my plea? And make my prom night, the best it could be." Clyde recited his poem he was clearly nervous and it was a bit cringy but Bebe was beyond happy.
She stood up at rushed to him hugging him tightly. You felt a bit sad as you watched them happily hug and laugh. You look up seeing Kyle staring at you like something finally clicked in his head. You get up and excuse yourself to the bathroom leaving the cafeteria. Kyle followed you out and caught up to you. He grabbed your hand making you turn to him. Before you could get a word in he cut you off.
"I'm so sorry. I should have known what was bothering you. I'm so stupid." He said blushing.
You turn your body entirely to face him and stayed quiet just watching him apologize. He blushed heavier and got on his knees and even though no one was around it was beyond embarrassing.
"Please forgive me.." He said looking up at you and making you hold in a laugh. You couldn't hold it in anymore and just start laughing so hard your stomach hurts. "I'm trying to apologize here," Kyle said clearly embarrassed.
"I'm sorry I'm so sorry." You say in between laughs and try to gain your composer again. "It's ok baby you've been busy and I probably should have just talked to you."
He stands up and kisses your head. "No, I should have known love. So let me make it up to you." He said standing back and looking at you. "Y/N will you go to prom with me?"
You smile and kiss his cheek softly. "Of course love."
After that because Kyle was so busy planning you took charge and handled everything for both of your outfits. You decided on a floor-length silk green dress. You managed to find a place to get your dress and Kyle's tux in such a short time. you got him a basic black tux with a green undershirt with a black bowtie.
You didn't have anyone to go dress shopping with you and because Kyle was so busy you barely were able to get him to try on his tux. His mom caught wind of it and had him take a few hours off of the prom organization to try on his tux. It was fun to be able to see him in his tux and see how much he loved being in it.
The day of the prom was hectic, to say the least. Kyle was late and only had an hour to get ready because of the time he spent setting up for prom before he and Wendy were forced to leave to get ready. You were at his place to get ready as his mom was doing your makeup. So when Kyle burst through the door he didn't even notice you in the living room with his mom.
He ran straight upstairs clearly worried he would be late. You and his mom laughed hearing him running around upstairs in his room. Once you finished getting ready you walked upstairs and entered his room seeing him trying to put on his bowtie.
"Hey, it's ok if we're a bit late." You say walking up to him startling him a bit.
You help him with his bowtie as he looks down at you blushing a bit.
"I just want to make this day perfect for you." He said with a sigh.
"As long as I get my dance with you I'll be happy." You say smiling up at him and ran your fingers through his fluffy hair.
"I'm glad you're here with me." He said hugging you close making you giggle.
"Let's get out of here. And once we get there don't stress out trying to make things perfect. You already did." You say kissing his cheek and leading him downstairs.
Once you both get down there his parents take no less than a million pictures of you two together. Once you two were finally able to get to school you looked around seeing all of Kyle's hard work coming together perfectly.
"Everything is so perfect." You say smiling up at him.
"I tried to put your favorite color everywhere." He said smiling.
You felt so happy being with Kyle just being able to dance with him made all the work you put into the last week worth it. Kyle tried to sneak off to make sure everything was running smoothly but you made sure he couldn't so that he could have fun.
"Ok everyone it is time to announce prom king and queen!" Wendy said drawing everyone's attention.
"I have to get up there to crown the king and queen." He said pulling away and going on stage before you could protest.
"Our queen is.." Wendy said opening the envelope in her hands. "Y/N L/N!"
You let out a gasp as people started clapping and cheering as you walk on stage. Kyle smiles at you clearly not surprised you had won as he places your crown on your head.
"I never nominated myself." You whisper to him. He let out a quiet chuckle and gives you a wink.
"Now time for our prom king," Wendy said opening another envelope. "Kyle Broflovski!"
Kyle looks surprised and looks at you seeing your smirk. You had submitted Kyle's name for King a week prior just as Kyle did yours. You took the crown from his hands and placed it on his head with a smile.
"Now clear the floor for the royal dance," Wendy announced making people leave the floor.
You and Kyle head onto the floor as a salsa dance plays. You groan and smile. "You plan this too?" You ask him causing him to nod and smile as he twirls you and dances with you.
You two salsa dance happily as the crowd of students watches. As the song ends Kyle dips you making a few students clap and cheer. Once the song changed people flood the dance floor. The night was perfect while Kyle was worried about not making everything to your liking, but the minute he saw you in your dress and held your hand it all felt so trivial. He was more than happy to be able to have you by his side while it was all so cheesy it definitely was something he can look back on with a smile.
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A/N: Two stories in one day I'm slaying I think. Anyway hope you enjoyed will def try to get more and more stuff out, love yall 🩷
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so :D i wrote my first ever fanfic because i was intrigued and want to know if i could do it. i hope you like it :)) i nerded out way too much on this one so spare me pls be kind!
description: set during the battle of manhattan, tlo. slightly canon divergent. lot of percy angst. tw: su!cidal thoughts. percys pov. percabeth being cute. based on the poem 'stopping by the woods on a snowy evening' by robert frost :)
Miles to Go Before I Sleep- A PJO Fanfiction
I couldn't sleep that night. I paced the room for two hours until late night as if there was something terrible was going to happen. I was worried sick--about Annabeth, about the war, about everything. At midnight, moonlight streamed through the hotel window as I sat, almost lifelessly on the bed, staring into nothing. Suddenly, I heard a creak in the door, and I was about to snatch riptide before I heard a whisper, "Percy? You awake?"
In the shadows, I saw the familiar figure of Grover, tired after a long day of attending to the satyrs. He sat down next to me on the bed, and we both stared at the wall in comfortable silence. For a moment, I could almost close my eyes and imagine that we were 12 year olds at Yancy again. "The Apollo kids are seeing you through the hotel surveillance cameras. They sent me to ask you to sleep" "Since you're the only one right now who I'll listen to?" ".....yep"
While Grover rambled something about him being my unofficial mom right now, I looked at my bedside table, and there it was. Pandora's Jar. Man, I wished the stupid thing would stop following me around, and right now, it wasn't the best time for me to want to resist opening it. Unfortunately, Grover read my emotions. "You want to open it, don't you?"
The question, which had always been on the back of my mind, really stung now that it was said out loud. I think Grover could see I was breaking down a little on the inside, and wrapped me in an awkward hug. "I-I do," it came spilling out of my mouth, my voice cracking. "It just feels like the Fates are giving me an opportunity instead of a challenge. I feel like everything around me is falling apart. I'm not good at handling war. If I give up to Kronos, he'd kill me, as long as I'd make him promise he wouldn't hurt you guys. It's just easier. It's better for everyone else" My eyes felt wet, and I pulled away quickly. Grover looked so lost, I immediately felt bad for making him worry about me. "Go to sleep, Percy," he said in a painful tone, as if I was a delusional grandpa who had gotten loose from the nursing home bed. Before I could say anything, he pulled out his reedpipes. Before I could protest, he started playing soft, sweet music and before I knew it, I was asleep.
In my dream, I was sitting with Annabeth in the strawberry field, while she had a book in her lap. Annabeth was smiling, her hair glinting in the sunlight. She was okay. We were okay. It was a sunny day and all the campers were having fun. I remembered this day; this conversation had happened two months before the war. Woah. That felt so far away.
"I finally found the greek version of this poem!" she said excited, her eyes sparkling, which gave me butterflies. "This poem is really famous for the last four lines, wait-wait, I'll read it out to you" She picked it up. "So the English version of these lines are: "The woods are lovely, dark and deep, but I have promises to keep, and miles to go before I sleep, and miles to go before I sleep" I bumped her shoulder with mine. "Ok, nerd...what's the point?"
She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling. "It basically means that the poet wanted to die and found death a beautiful easy way out, but he realised he still had a duty in his life and that he still had a long way before his time to go, isn't that so poetic?" "I guess. You're better at this than me"
This didn't happen that day, but she opened her arms, as if about to hug me, probably due to Grover's magical reedpipe music, and for a second I felt elated that life felt livable again, before the ground opened up before she could, and I fell into endless darkness.
I woke up, shaking. I felt like I had been given a sweater in the cold before it got snatched away, leaving me back in the freezing winter. Grover was gone. I wanted to go back to sleep. I wanted things to be alright again. I wanted to see Annabeth happy and nerdy as usual and hug her. But sunlight streamed in through the window, and I forced myself out of the bed and went up the stairs to where Annabeth was.
When I walked up to her in the chair, my heart broke again. She looked so different from the dream. Her eyes were weakly staring at the view, she was shivering and her face was still a little gray. "Hey" she said. I checked up on her, talking to her about her health, which was slowly getting better, thankfully, but it didn't stop me from feeling guilty.
As I stared at her hopelessly, Pandora's Jar appeared on the table next to her. Annabeth studied my face. "We should put it in a place where it stays there"
I nodded my head in agreement. I took the jar gingerly in my hands. I looked out into the view from above. The whole city was in my sight. I saw demigods rebuilding the mortal's homes, some of which were damaged after the day's fight. I saw Nico rejoining a skeleton from his army's bones, with Will hovering curiously from a distance. "Is that a coccyx ?" "Gesundheit" If I died, he'd be the prophecy kid. I saw two tired aphrodite girls staring at a broken mirror, as if wondering where their life (and skin) started to break. I needed to keep them going. I needed to survive, I couldn't let them down. I needed to give them what they were fighting for. They were fighting for me. All my depression would have to wait for another day.
"It must be annoying," Annabeth said. "Don't you ever just want to open it?"
"Nah," I gave her my bravest smile, as I carried the jar to the door, where I would give it to be locked in a storage locker in the hotel. "I have promises to keep; and miles to go before I sleep"
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dinoshimaaa · 1 year
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one day, i will stop falling in love with you. (pt 1)
love, oh, love! the unstoppable force of nature, the very thing that makes us human. love is so beautiful. love is the everlasting sky and grass and sea and love is as similarly painful as it is ethereal. love is painful in the sacrifices made and the unspoken words and the unshed tears. oh, love is beauty and love is pain. love is worth everything just as much as it is not. (feat. kazuha, xiao, albedo, gn! reader) (pt 2 here)
or: this silly crush of theirs will pass. soon. maybe.
-
the winds are the sole witness to the poems that kazuha writes in your name (an embarrassing amount, in fact), most of which after completion are crumpled and disposed of, never to see the light of day again. there are some he is slightly more proud of and keeps for rereading on a much, much later date when he misses you. not that you’d know. not that you’d find out.
the first few poems of you were mostly childish, dreamy, and romantic; some of them about you being likened to a deity of some kind, descending upon teyvat to bless it with your otherworldly existence, or a flower that never stops blooming (or at least, that was how kazuha initially saw you: through rose-tinted glasses), but after having spent more time with you, the rose-tint faded away and his writing style develops into something more mature; the promise of an eternal love, enduring of hardships just for you, endless yearning from his side.
recently, the poems kazuha wrote have become more and more melancholic. the yearning stays, but now without the hope that it is reciprocated; the eternal love remains everlasting, but you never once look in his direction. just like his works of literature, the expression he wears everyday becomes evident of his emotions of late, too. many sailors of the crux are jesting about kazuha’s heart being broken by a fleeting infatuation which would explain the bitter smile he shows quite often (but is it really a jest if it is technically true?)
you leave after another visit, only having shown kazuha affection that stays within the platonic boundary. you have shown no desire to push further into something more. kazuha is aware that he has to get rid of his feelings soon, for he has been chasing this unrequited love for too long, and it is time to put a stop to his heart’s suffering.
one day, he will enter his room, pick up his quill, and write the final poem dedicated to you that holds a goodbye with indescribable bitter emotion, and maybe finally move on from you. that day will witness the end to all the days he spent cradling his unsent poems to his chest as he sleeps, teardrops falling onto the paper like a leaky faucet.
but today is not that day, not yet. let kazuha look at your retreating back for now once more.
-
the set of days that bring xiao the most peace is surprisingly lantern rite, despite the bustling atmosphere it fills liyue harbor with every year. to be specific, xiao feels the illusion of never-ending peace at the time when everyone releases their lanterns and they all illuminate the sky with the hopes and dreams of the mortals.
he sits on the grass again this year, positioning himself to get a good view for the lantern-releasing this time round. and this time, he is not alone.
you sit a respectful distance away from him. not too close to make a stranger uncomfortable, not too far to give him a stranger’s treatment. your hands rest behind you, supporting your torso as you lean back slightly, and you face up with your eyes closed and smiling in pleasure. xiao wordlessly watches your legs swing back and forth on the edge of the cliff, not doing anything about it. it felt like it was just supposed to be there, so he let it be. (if it were anyone else, he’d be slightly irritated from the nonstop movement.)
watch yourself, he says anyway. you can’t teleport midair like i do. there’s no guarantee i’ll catch you if you fall because of your flailing.
boo, what are you, my mom? you laugh. i’m just swinging my legs, that’s all. there’s nothing else to do while waiting for the lanterns. besides, i know you’ll catch me.
do i want to? we’ll see about that. he shrugs, earning a pinch from you when you reach over to his arm.
unbeknownst to you, xiao overthinks the words you two exchanged. it’s true he’d catch you if you did fall. he pays too much attention to you, that’s why. too much, in fact, in the way he glances at you ever so often when you’re in his line of sight, in the way he looks for you first when a battle has finished, in the way he thinks of you first when karmic debt creeps up on him.
oh, he’d definitely catch you if you fell. problem is— would you let him?
there is trust in the way you recklessly swing your legs in the air, without a harsh grip on the grass. there is trust that he will save you should you ever fall, and most likely if you were beginning to slip off, he’d prevent that from happening immediately. but that trust is not the same as the trust that xiao shows to you.
you stick flowers in his hair just to rile him up, while he thinks of gathering every flower across teyvat just to make you happy.
the first sighting of lanterns along with your delighted gasp pulls him from his thoughts. slowly, more and more surface from the cliff that both of you are watching from, and it’s not too long before the skies of liyue are dotted with gold.
every other year xiao looks at the lanterns, hoping for true freedom. this year he only looks at you.
it’s a good thing you aren’t paying attention to his staring, gazing only at the lanterns. (secretly, he wishes you would look back at him too.)
-
you are an experiment albedo cannot give a hypothesis to, a variable he has no means of controlling. you are intriguing as you are unpredictable, somehow unintentionally surprising albedo with new behaviour and spunk each passing day.
it doesn’t quite matter if it’s to your liking or not— but albedo is rather drawn to the unknown, the unimagined, the unspoken. you are expressive and yet still an enigma to him, and the desire in him to explore more of you is visceral.
he runs imaginary tests on you in his mind. if he’s fortunate, and if it’s possible, he does physical ones instead. the results that come back surprise him each time, but it would be futile to lie about the growing smile on his face.
the tests draw him more to you. sooner than later, he isn’t just drawn to you through means of experimentation.
it starts when he starts thinking about what you might actually like yourself rather that predicting your reflex behaviour through current data of you. when he starts debating if you would prefer apples to sunsettias. if you’d like to try fish marinated with fruit. if you’d eat anything at all. a couple “if”s later, and he had unknowingly created a sunshine sprat just for you. weird how that just happens out of nowhere, but it can’t go to waste.
(he’s doing this to not waste food, he says, as he gingerly wraps the lunchbox up in his favourite dark blue cloth, using alchemy to keep it warm until you arrive to try it. what do you mean the vegetables accompanying the dish happen to be your favourite? what a funny coincidence.)
the tests become more physical and thoughtless over time. some of them aren’t even planned in advance, too. like that time he subconsciously slid a cecelia behind your ear. or the other time he held your hand to feed himself from a spoon you held, shooting you a sly smirk as he pulled away, leaving you flustered. (haha, take that! who’s the surprised one now?)
he doesn’t remember when it evolves into anticipation of your next visit, or the fluttering feeling in his stomach each time you come over. and then the next thing he knows, the newest experiment involves him wondering if you’d ever let him run his fingers through your hair with gentle intimacy only sweethearts show each other.
albedo stills as he prepares the hypothesis. as always, it is hard to predict. as always, the reason for its unpredictability is…
ah, why’d you have to give such inconsistent results every time he conducts an experiment on you? why’d your reaction have to change with each test he does? don’t you know that consistent results are the basic need to come up with an accurate average to pinpoint the true relationship between the independent and dependent variables?
you’ve ruined it. now it’s going to be hard for albedo to possibly come up with a conclusion for his experiment. he couldn’t possibly spend time on an experiment he knows is impossible to complete, could he? (why would you never seem to reciprocate the interest albedo shows in you?)
not all experiments are meant to succeed, after all. albedo supposes he can let this one be, let it rest. even if the build up to the climax had been too enjoyable to let go. even if it had way too much investment to give up on. even if it ached to see it all go to waste. there was no point in pursuing something that would never give you the results you desire.
-
PLEASE REBLOG IF YOU LIKED IT IM PROUD OF THIS ONE 🙏🙏
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breeistired · 1 month
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So, as a poet and a marauders fan.
YOU KNOW DAMN WELL IM MAKING POEMS ABOUT THE MARAUDERS
Can you guess who this poem is about????
(ALL POEMS WILL BE POSTED ON MY WATTPAD BOOK)
-
In my head I'm still young
I'm still sitting with everyone
I can't remember the last time mom was happy
Or when my brother spoke to me
I count the stars one by one
Hoping to connect with you somehow
The sun comes up
And that's when I know you're awake
The moon comes down
And I know the one person I love is awake
The cold floor is pressed against me
God how could you betray me
I'm a fucking dog begging for a piece of meat
Please bring him back to me
Let me see him before I die
My flesh going towards madness
I remember waking in a happy home
Where my brother was there
My stars and my moon
Then I woke up and prayed to the stars
Please take me with him
I want to look into his eyes one last time I want to see him angry when he finds out i escaped
Just please let me fucking see him
The traitor
You did this to me
I cannot get my revenge
I have to sit and stare at the moon
Talking to it like it was you
I pretended I was splitting a chocolate between you and I
I am too young to die I want to die in his arms
I want to feel like I'm in love again
He promised me memories
Yet I am still here locked in my cage
Mom, am I still young?
Dad, do you hate what I've done?
Brother, please don't hate me
Please say you'll forgive me
I'm begging ever so pathetically like doggy on his knees
Please forgive me
I'll forgive you
I promise to never burn your letters again
Just let me see my brother god dammit
I want you back
I want to come home
I never say please
But to my moon, stars and sun
Please come back
It wasn't me
-
LEAVE ANSWERS IN COMMENTS!!!!
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dynamoe · 4 months
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Billy Quizboy as the rabbit-toothed guitarist DAVE HILL of glam rock band SLADE— sporter of the worst bangs in rock n' roll history*— circa their 1973 Christmas #2 Merry Christmas Everybody**, which was covered as the annual Venture Bros holiday song this year by Pete White, Master Billy Quizboy, his mom and her lovers (the elderly superhero polycule).
→ hear the cover on KenPlume's youtube → go to the Billy Quizboy & Pete White index
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(I know with the orange hair/eyepatch he looks like Ziggy Stardust— the Quizboy:Slade ratio is a delicate balance.)
Merriest Twelfth Day of Christmas to you, to Jackson Publick and Doc Hammer and to Slade and anyone else still reading who gives a shit.
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Slade is more of a British thing, really. They had a ton of British hits in the 1970s as a glam rock band, but didn't break into the US until the 1980s (when they replaced Ozzy Osborne at the Reading Festival) with Cum on Feel the Noize, pivoting to be more hard rock/metal.
Noddy Holder was more of the “face” of Slade (head to toe plaid, mutton chops, tophat covered in mirrors). I suspect the all-plaid outfit on Col. Gentleman in the Vbros cover art is a take on Noddy's look... or he ignored the brief and dressed as one of Scotland's own Bay City Rollers. Slade suffered from a lesser case of Cheap Trick syndrome, where every member dressed like they were in a different band. Dave dressed full spaceman-- face glitter, every variety of metallic fabric available (lurex, glitter knit, vinyl, lamé) in shades of silver. The other guitarist whose name I won't look up wore a red lurex suit (I guess that would be Pete's outfit in their cover band) which he had to keep replacing because he sweated so much on stage the fibers literally melted (one of the suits was preserved by the V&A on an episode of Secrets of the Museum)... No one cares about the drummer. 
The only reason I know anything about Slade — I'm no rock trivia geek, I’m a comedy nerd — Slade was a constant punchline in 1990s Brit Comedy. Noddy appeared on Never Mind the Buzzcocks in the LaMar era. 1993 sketch show The Smell of Reeves and Mortimer had a recurring mini-sitcom “Slade in Residence” (the band living in a suburban home together, wearing their stage costumes, eating nothing but cup-of-soup, obsessing over monster truck rallies and­— the key to their appeal to Vic and Bob, I imagine­— whining in thick Black Country accents.)
Billy is my Covid muse and if he stars in the annual Christmas cover (he had only sung before on 2006's VentureAid; read poems on their take on the Beatles Fan Club records), it's not like I CAN'T draw something despite saying I was done with this shit. I promised you guys a *technically* Christmas Billy drawing and I *technically* delivered.
Now I'm gonna switch to drawing characters I own so I can finally make some money. Godblessuseveryone. ___
*Dave Hill was just being a futuristic spaceman, those micro-bangs were the hottness on all the skater girls of the late 1990s. I even had 'em.
**Having the #1 song at Christmas is a big deal in the UK (as you may remember from the Bill Nighy segments from Love Actually) and the 1973 slug match between Slade's Merry Christmas Everybody and the eventual winner Wizzard’s I Wish It Could Be Christmas Everyday looms large in music trivia, to the degree that I was sure Astrobot Go was going to release a cover a day later of some other (more fan-favored) characters doing their version of Wizzard to rain on Billy et. al’s parade.
→ Wizzard
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So which character dons the beard and harlequin eye facepaint to be the guy from Wizzard? Probably Hank, right?
→ go to the Billy Quizboy & Pete White index → Nobody'sSweetheart on Instagram
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Taylor’s use of 7 is Haylor, including seven: a thesis
Buckle up, friends. Ever since hearing the seven poem aloud on the Eras tour—with its explicit link to Wildest Dreams—it confirmed my long-held suspicion that *seven* is Haylor.
Some data:
- all track 7s post Red seem to be Haylor
- 7 is Harry’s number (added to hers you get 20, hence all the references to 20)
- seven is track 7 on folklore, the album Taylor released on 1D’s 10th anniversary. What? Harry had released Fine Line on her previous bday (#30, Dec 13/19) and she’d missed his Feb 1st day already.
But bestie, you might ask, how is it possible? Let me explain, drawing from details of the song.
We know that Anne and Des Styles divorce when Harry is 7. Anne has primary custody of H and Gemma in Holmes Chapel, but they remain close to Des whom they see on weekends.
But then, there is a period in their lives that no one knows much about and no one speaks about. Even this gem (which I am currently citing) - a 1D origin story has very little.
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Harry has another stepdad whose last name is Cox (which was Anne’s name during 1D X factor time). His name was John. They family move to Great Budworth in the Cheshire countryside where Anne is landlady in a pub (and Harry talks fondly of ice cream runs and first girlfriends).
But then when H is around 12, Anne and the kids are back in Holmes Chapel. Anne eventually dates and gets serious with Harry’s beloved, now late stepdad Robin Twist. And Harry sometimes mentions his overwhelming desire to protect his Mom and Gemma at all costs.
No one ever mentions this guy. Ever.
Fast forward a few years to the magical December of 2012. After work commitments, Harry and Taylor spent 4 or 5 days in the north of England. They stay with Anne, and they Christmas bake and go on double dates with Gemma and her then boyfriend, and grocery shop and hang out with his friends. He takes her to the Lakes, where she’s dreamed of going.
It’s her 23rd birthday and be showers her with surprises and 23 thoughtful gifts (she’s not writing The Moment I Knew on his watch!). He gets her food from his childhood fave Chinese place and the bakery where he worked! He is showing her his life. It’s documented here…
Including their visit to a pub in Great Budworth and a drive around the area.
We have no idea what happened, but maybe Taylor does?
Taylor never got to take him to Pine Tree farm in rural PA, as far as we know. But in the depths of the pandemic, when no one could go anywhere, she paints him a picture of her PA childhood.
And in it, we find a fictionalized friend who has a difficult and maybe scary father figure. One from whom Taylor wishes she could save and protect her friend, despite crossing her heart and promising not to tell.
What a gift, to affirm the struggle this child went through, and to show her care and desire to *be with them in it*.
She wanted to scoop him up and take him away from the closet tears to play pirates and “run away to India”. What kid in rural PA wishes to go there? Come on! 😭😭😭
And then, here are the lyrics she pens:
“Passed on like folk songs, the love lasts so long”
“And just like a folk song, our love will be passed on…”
And most significantly - *love you to the moon and to Saturn* 🌙🪐 !!!!!
She wasn’t kidding in Gold Rush - “my mind turns your life into folklore, I can’t bear to dream about you any more.”
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sery-chan-13 · 4 days
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Older Now
Ch. 14 of "My Sunshine" [Treech x Reader] Warnings: Swearing and suggestive content(Spicy poetry that implies but is not explicit)
You thought it was funny, hilarious even.
When the expected "no funny business" line was delivered from his mom, his face turned so red you thought he would die.
"Ma!"
Oh yes, you had missed this.
You giggled and looked up at him.
"It's alright, come on now..." you whispered. "You promised you would show me your poetry and I still have one notebook for you."
——
I find solace in sitting in the woods. The ghosts of our youth call out. I replay the memories in my head over and over again. Some days, I feel certain I see you, but you're always just close enough to trick me, yet too far for me to reach you.
------
When my name got called, I froze, I wondered if you were watching. So for that reason, I didn't cry. I marched up there and glared at the ''peace'' keepers. If you were watching, well, I didn't want to see weak in front of you.
The handwriting was messy and quick. He had hidden it haphazardly and ran back out before the Peace Keepers could pull him out. He hugged his Ma and promised he would be back.
-----
District Seven will always be home. No matter where I am, I will always go home. Home is the creeks rushing downstream, the tall trees and the smell of pine. Home is the dirt road and hiking trails we took. The still lake, the birds chirping, the frogs croaking. That is home. The wooden walls, your arms around me, our hands interlocked, and my head on your chest. The sound of your heart beating, your sweet words filling my ears. You are home. And district seven is not home without you.
You were proud of this one. One you'd give to him as soon as he stepped out of that arena. You gently put it on top of your desk.
____
I feel like a circus performer. I get dressed up and parade around making a show of myself. Capitol people love the circus. They love entertainment. What could be more entertaining than a district girl pretending to be one of them?
——
I've always wondered how I've survived so long without you.
There were no other words he wanted to say. That was the only sentence he could think to write. There was no space within him to write long beautiful prose about how much he missed you.
____
I decided to stop writing for a bit. My mind runs through everything. One second I feel like crying, at another time I am angry. How have I survived this long without you?
The writing on the paper was short, you admitted to yourself, but after a month of not writing this was all you could get out.
____
I play pretend like we used to. I pretend you never left. I pretend I'm not alone.
____
Most nights, you invade my thoughts. Your pretty hands, your lips, and those beautiful eyes. One hand on the pen as I write, the other distracted. Soon, it's one hand over my mouth; paper and pen forgotten as my mind runs wild with thoughts of you. Ink spills over my lap and I curse myself as I pick up.
He looked at the paper in shock as if he hadn't just written that. As if it just magically appeared. He groaned, running his hands through his thick dark hair, and hitting his head on his small desk. It shook and he winced hoping no one would wake up from the noise.
____
I sit and write at my desk till late. I fill pages and envelopes... fill other things. Until my hand becomes shaky and the writing falls off of the page. I force myself to continue, to focus. To write. The shaky letters will be obvious. When I give them to you, you will notice. I can't focus on that thought for long as I knock my ink over. It spills and covers my hands.
You stared at the writing, blushing, as if those words were not your own. What are you doing (Y/N)? you thought to yourself as you hid the poem.
____
Quick breaths. It feels like waves crashing against me. I'm glad my imagination can imagine things. Redundancy at its finest. I'd put this crudely, but you've always liked pretty words. So I'll write pretty words for the pretty girl. On every other paper but this one. Here, I'll say this: I want you. Hell, I need you. I need you to touch, to feel. I want you to need me to.
———
By the end of finishing each other's writing, your faces were bright red.
"I... um..."
"Yeah..."
You then laughed and hugged him, peppering his face with kisses. He protested, saying you were getting your lipstick on his face. In reality, he didn't care.
"(N/N) st-stop it!" He laughed, finally gently cupping your face.
You smiled and gave him a quick peck on the lips before grabbing his hands from your face. You intertwined your hands with his and then put your head in the crook of his neck.
He let out a content sigh as you did this, placing his head on top of yours, and hiding his face in your hair.
"I haven't been this... happy... since... well, since you were here. And I mean, there's no objections to us... Ma loves you. And I'm sure Pa will be happy too. You know he used to say that when I finally opened my eyes and really saw you, I'd realize I was in love... I used to tell him that we were just friends and he was gross," he laughed. "But... after you left... well... I guess distance makes the heart grow fonder."
You smiled at him talking. Just hearing how he didn't sound exhausted or scared made you happy. There was the thought in your head that he would snap. But right now, he was ok. And when he wasn't, you would be right there to hold him, comfort him, and make everything okay again
There was a comfortable silence between the two of you holding on to each other. There was no talking needed for the words you were both thinking. The silence said all that needed to be said.
It was a few hours later when his father came home. He was overjoyed at seeing his son.
You had never seen anyone cry as much as they all did. It made your eyes tear up as you stood off to the side. They were so happy, and seeing them be so overwhelmed by the joy that they were crying made you cry.
No, you weren't upset about his reunion.
You were... jealous?
Seeing his family be a family. Loving and hugging each other. You hadn't felt your family's love since the beginning of your father's relationship with the Capitol. Your mother becoming a living ghost in your house. Elusive. Your father said that affection was unnecessary and only the lowly gave any comfort to their children. That affection was how you
They talked and talked and you quietly stepped out onto the steps in front of the house.
You should be happy! You should feel ecstatic about him being with his family again! The one thing he missed the most while in the Capitol were his Ma and Pa and now... Now you were upset? No not upset... you just longed for what he had...
You felt horrible. You should be inside celebrating his return, and helping him not feel like a horrible human being...
Yet you sat outside.
It was about two hours later when the door opened behind you. The steps behind you creaked and groaned as someone stepped down and sat next to you. You gave a glance and saw Treech.
"Hi..." you whispered.
"Where did you go? I mean we just noticed but um..." he trailed off.
Don't be upset, you have no reason to be upset don't be upset.
You kept repeating that in your head.
"I've been out here for about... two hours? I uh... needed fresh air," you whispered.
"Oh? Two hours? I'm sorry I didn't notice before then (N/N)..." He mumbled, sitting on the step next to you.
His hand found yours and you sighed, leaning into him. He brought your hand to his lips and softly kissed your fingers, then your palm, and finally the back of your hand, before looking up at you.
"You doin' ok?" He whispered, noticing how sad your eyes looked.
You could not, absolutely under any circumstance, tell him that you were upset. He had way more to be upset about, and you were supposed to be happy and be there for him. How come every time he needed you, you somehow seemed to need him in the same way?
"You can be upset... It's ok..." he mumbled.
You smiled and kissed his forehead, "I promise... Now, how did they react to the news?"
His smile widened, and he stood up taking both of your hands in his.
"They're excited. Both of 'em... But, they will kill me if they find out that I haven't taken you on a proper date. So, that is our plan for tonight sunshine," he said.
You blushed at the idea of going on a 'proper' date with him. Of course, you had only imagined the moment, but now that it was finally happening, you became nervous. The prospect of going out alone for the first time as a couple with him made you squeeze his hand tightly.
_____
It was later in the night, around 8, when you said your goodbyes and headed out into the woods behind his house. He had a medium-sized bag on his shoulder, and he would not tell you what was inside.
You remembered the path, one of the hikes you two used to take up to the lake. This one led straight to the old willow tree you spent so much time at.
"Is it still...?"
"Yeah, it is still there. And it is still just our secret spot. I never brought anyone else there," he reassured, offering his arm to you.
You happily took it, hooking your arm in his as he led you through the woods, a lantern being your only form of light.
There was a warm breeze flowing through the leaves, fireflies blinking around you two.
Soon, you reached the lake and the willow. You smiled widely at seeing the spot. It looked the same. Nothing had changed about the spot. Treech put the bag down and grabbed your hands.
"Ok, well, let's go," he said, spinning you around.
You laughed at him twirling you and looked confused.
"Let's go? But we just got here," you questioned with a pout.
He laughed, taking his hat and placing it on top of the bag.
"Sorry, let me rephrase that: Let's go swimmin'," he smirked.
"But I didn't bring any swim-"
"Don't need it. I brought some towels and a blanket for later. But if you want your clothes to stay dry then..." he gestured to you and your clothes. You got the memo.
"Let me get this straight... for our first official date, you take me to our spot and are asking me to go skinny dipping with you?" You said, a smirk playing on your lips. "If you wanted to see me naked you could have just asked."
His face turned bright red at your words as he tried to defend himself, panic-stricken that you thought he would only ask you out here for that. You laughed, and went over, giving him a quick peck on the lips.
"Treech, darlin', I was just teasin'. Now, I bet I can beat you in," You giggle, beginning by taking off your shoes and socks, and tucking them neatly by the bag.
He scoffed and laughed, "Oh you're on (Y/N)!''
You took your time, knowing that when he got competitive, he got clumsy. You were so cocky as to neatly fold all your clothes as it came off. You laughed and ran into the water, deciding to keep your underwear on. It could dry later. Treech did the same.
He shook his head and groaned as he waded over to you.
"Can't believe I lost. God damnit,'' he jokingly groaned. 
You laughed and kissed his cheek before grabbing his hand and pulling him a little deeper. You could both stand, yet were up to your chests in the water. He quickly wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned his head into the crook of your neck. 
"I love you so fuckin' much (Y/N) (L/N), I can not wait to be completely and utterly yours," he mumbled into your neck.
"And I love you, Treech Mori, as much as there are stars in the sky. Hopefully, you can be as patient as them too."
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zoeyslament · 7 months
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Even Poets Get Sleepy Sometimes
A Nischa oneshot in which Noel stays up late writing a poem, and Mischa finally gets him to sleep.
Your voice,
Though I hear it every day,
Never fails to bring a smile to my face.
Your hands,
Though I hold them every waking moment,
Caress mine like no other.
Your…
Noel slammed his fist against the table, crumpled the yellowing paper, and tossed it into the waste basket. Absolute garbage, what he’d just written. He clicked his ballpoint pen a few times and then threw it down against the hard mahogany of his desk, head falling backwards.
“Try writing poetry they said,” he grumbled, “It’ll be fun, they said!” His eyes went wide as he stared up at the ceiling. “Gets the anger out, they said!”
Noel stood up, went to his bed, and wrapped himself in a fluffy red throw blanket. “I promised myself I’d have this done tonight.” He sucked in a breath, ignoring any thoughts of giving up and going to sleep. The old fashioned clock above his bed read 9:07. It was a school night, but that didn’t really matter. With his luck, he’d sleep in and miss the morning bell anyway. He was about to get started on the poem once more when he felt a buzzing sensation in his pocket.
He whipped out his phone to reveal a text message from Mischa.
M: You left your hoodie at my place
He sighed, and typed out a reply.
N: Ik, I’ll get it tmrw
M: I will bring it over
N: Mischa its like nine at night!!
M: So?
N: Ur not a good driver let alone at night
M: YOLO
Noel didn’t know what was stupider: the fact that Mischa was coming over to drop off a stupid hoodie, or the fact that he’d unironically used YOLO. His boyfriend really was not the sharpest tool in the shed. Noel rolled his eyes, smirking.
“Knowing him, he’ll show up and want to stay.” Noel chuckled. “He can sleep while I finish this up.”
He started writing once more:
With your touch, my worries fade
With your song, my mind’s at ease
With your…
What could he possibly put down next? He frowned at the page. “Come on, Noel, think!”
He thought alright. He sat there and thought for a good twenty minutes. Most of the thoughts he had were less about poetry and more about how hungry he was (mom had gotten McDonald’s for dinner and Noel would rather sit in a tub of monkey piss than eat a McNugget) or about all the homework that would enevitably be due before he even finished his first stanza.
In that time, Mischa had thrown on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt (and was very tempted to put on Noel’s hoodie, as well, but resisted for the sake of his gangsta persona, yo) and taken to his beat up Civic for a late-night spin. Noel’s place was only a few minutes away, so he arrived in about twenty after a slight detour to the local 7-11 for a bag of Flamin’ Hot Cheetos.
Mischa had been to his boyfriend’s place enough times to know the drill—front door was always locked after 7, but Noel locked the back door before he went to sleep, and clearly the poet was still awake. So Mischa, hoodie and half-eaten bag of Cheetos in hand, hopped the fence to the Grubers’ backyard (there was a gate but it was too dark to see the latch, and frankly Mischa enjoyed jumping fences) where he was presented with the back patio in all its glory.
It was a few measly slabs of cement and a rocking chair.
He knocked on the back door once, twice, three times, before twisting the knob. Unlocked, just like always. He politely wiped his feet on the mat, took off his shoes, and tiptoed through the living room, kitchen, down the hall, and eventually into Noel’s room.
It was rather spacious—Noel had the master bedroom since his mother wasn’t home enough to make use of it. The walls were a sort of green-grey, with deep red velvet curtains hung over the single, dew-glazed window. Noel’s antique vanity, which doubled as a desk, was sat below said window. On it was a pile of paper, a framed picture of the choir, a picure of Noel and his mom, and several lit scented candles. In fact, there were candles littered everywhere. Noel was really into mood lighting, apparently.
Noel, as of then, was hard at work and didn’t even see Mischa come in. So, naturally, Mischa swooped in and enveloped him in a big bear hug, pressing a kiss to the back of his neck. Noel jumped, but quickly melted into it.
“Remind me never to text you again?” Noel hissed at him, mood suddenly back to snarky and broody. “Using YOLO is henceforth forbidden.”
“So is ‘henceforth’. This is not Shakespeare-land, yo.” Mischa countered. He pulled Noel into a gentle kiss by the chin, their lips pressing together lightly as Mischa’s hand set upon Noel’s shoulder.
“Henceforth is an actual word, unlike YOLO.” Noel smirked as he pulled away. “Now where’s the hoodie you oh so desperately needed to bring me?”
Mischa handed it to him. “Sorry, it probably smells like me now.”
Noel pressed it to his nose and made a show of taking a big whiff. “Mhm~”
Mischa laughed. The two of them talked for almost an hour, just like they always managed to do. However after a while it became clear that something was off.
“Poet, you seem tired.” Mischa pointed out in a town of fake nonchalence. Internally, he was panicking. Was something up?
“I’ve been up for a while, yeah.” He held out the paper he was scribbling on. “Can’t get this how I want it.”
“Let me see.” Mischa insisted. He scribbled another word in big letters before proudly showing Noel.
“Mischa, this just says ‘spicy noodles’ in big letters.” Noel did not seem impressed.
Mischa shrugged. “I am hungry.”
“You just ate an entire bag of Cheetos.”
“And?”
“Mischa, you have the appetite of a black hole.”
Noel got back to work, stifling a yawn as his candles developed gutters deep enough to drown a rat. Mischa watched idly as his boyfriend tossed away paper after paper after paper.
“Want more help, Noel?” He teased, hovering over the shorter’s shoulder. Noel slapped him away as if he were swatting at a pesky fly.
“You are less than help. Negative help.” Noel hissed, “If you’re so hungry, go make something to eat. There’s a jar of peanut butter, slap together a sandwich or something.”
“I’d rather just watch you, beautiful.” He admitted, watching Noel’s face flush through the vanity mirror.
“Shut up…”
“Don’t think I will. But, Noel? It’s getting late. You should be in bed, yo. Sleeping.” He pointed at the bed for emphasis, or just in case Noel didn’t know what a bed was.
Noel sighed sleepily. “I know, I know.”
“Maybe sleep will make your brain juice run better.” Mischa suggested, poetic as ever. It was clear he was not taking no for an answer. He scooped Noel up into his arms, leaving Noel a flustered gay mess, and placed him on the bed, tucking his body around Noel’s like a mother cat would around her kitten.
“Mischaaaaaaa~” Noel whined. “I can stay up!” But he clearly didn’t mean it. His eyelids were already growing heavy with sleep. Mischa moved slightly so he was holding Noel closer, feeling his poet’s soft breath on his collarbone as Noel tucked his pretty little face into the crook of Mischa’s neck.
Mischa stroked Noel’s silky dark hair. “Sweet dreams, poet. I know you will find the right words. You always do.”
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meetmyothersouls · 2 years
Note
Can you make more Halloween one shots I love them
Of course! And just so you all are aware, I’ve gotten and started on pretty much all of your requests and you’ll be seeing all of the ones on the list provided on my page! I’ve just been balancing reading, writing for a project outside of Tumblr/fanfiction and my usual mom/work shit!
And since you said you love my Halloween one shots, here’s a short little spook just for you, my dear!
Imposter
Warnings: creepy, spooky, quick smutty phone sex
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Your phone rang, startling you awake from your nap. “Who the fuck is calling me!?” You groaned, your voice still gravely from sleep.
“Hello?” you answered, unable to hide your annoyance.
“Hey babe, it’s me.”
Part of your annoyance melted away, but not enough to let him off the hook. “Timothee where are you it’s,” you leaned up to check the time on the cable box. “7:30, we’re gonna miss the movie.”
“I know. I know. I’m sorry, babe. I promise I’m driving as fast as I can!” He was silent on the other end for a second before his voice transitioned to a deep, sultry whisper. “But how bad would it really be if we missed the movie and i just fucked you for two hours instead?”
Your body instantly reacted to his words and you immediately felt desire build in the apex of your thighs.
“Come on Tim, you really think you could last two hours?” You teased.
“Is that a challenge,” Timothee retorted quickly.
It was. And you could tell by the tone of his voice that it’d be one he was up for.
“Maybe it is. Hurry the fuck up and get here already.”
“Be there in twenty, I promise.”
“You better.”
You hung up the phone, feeling annoyed and turned on all at once. You let a hand trial down into your panties and dip into your pussy. You were already wet from the borderline phone sex you’d just had with Timothee. If it was really going to take him twenty minutes to get home, you might as well get yourself off a few times before he arrived. Then you’d be nice and ready for him to fuck your brains out.
You pulled your panties down and spread your legs apart on the sofa, swirling your juices around on your clit in a way that made your back arch and your toes curl. It felt good, but Timothee made you feel even better.
You whispered his name as you touched yourself and just as you were about to come, you heard footsteps.
“You ready to go, babe?”
You screamed, slamming your legs shut and pulling your panties up immediately.
It was Timothee.
But weren’t you talking to him on the phone not five minutes ago?
“What’s wrong with you?”
“Who are you?”
“What do you mean?” He laughed as he said it, like you were out of your mind. “I’m Timothee…your boyfriend.”
“No. No. Th-then who was I talking on the phone to before?”
Other Timothee arched an eyebrow and shrugged. “Maybe your dad?”
“Fuck no it wasn’t my dad. We were talking about sex!”
The phone rang and you let out a small shriek in response. You walked over to the phone, not taking your eyes off of Other Timothee the whole way. You used a single finger to press the talk button and hesitated for a second before answering.
“…hello?” Your voice shook.
“Hey babe it’s me again, there’s a wreck on I-90, that’s what’s taking so long. I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back okay?”
Your blood ran cold and a shiver spider walked its way down your spine. The phone slid out of your hand has Other Timothee’s mouth curved into a sinister smile.
Tags: @imnotoverlyobsessive @dayafied @soulofendlessbook @fashphotolife @chicchanelcigs @scentedkittenperfection @weasleytwinscumslut @timotheel0ver @mxciscastleintheair @marvelmaniac2000 @lovelyrocker @divine-1 @louievr @love-poems-only @starberry-cake @inlovewithphantasy @alexagirlie @misswestfall @softhecreator @livresjaunes @timmymyluv @inannamoon @harrys-thick-thighs @s-we-e-t-t-ea @timolaurence @its-schmackin-dude @justagirlwhoneedshelp
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symphonic-scream · 2 months
Text
Back when the Legend of Korra finale first aired, I was a little baby gay and had a different tumblr which I believe I deleted. On said tumblr, I think I mentioned vaguely that I had an idea for fankids for them
It's been 9 years since I deleted that tumblr. It's going to be 10 years since the finale this December. The release of the (underwhelming) live action Last Airbender has brought me back to a show that truly changed my life, and made me feel seen as a queer, mixed native kid (I'm a quarter, my grandpa was full)
So. Here's a little post about those ocs, who I found in my old seventh grade french notes (I never paid attention in that class lmao)
Anyways!y Korrasami kids. Let's go over them
Hiroto Sato (Ref age 16)
So I imagine that once their lives were stable, that they'd want to have a baby. Asami would carry in my mind, just because Korra would be all worried about how her body would handle it after the poisoning thing. However, their plans go, twisted. Cause they have twins
Their first born is their son, named after Hiroshi Sato, though Asami didn't want to directly name him after her father because her feelings would be still complicated. So, Hiroto. He goes by Hiro, mostly, and he's a fire bender
His eyes are a dark brown/grey, and he keeps his hair at a sort of medium length? It curls slightly around his ears, and he'd need glasses starting at age 14. He likes warm, comfy clothes
Hiro isn't very physically, well, talented. He's clumsy, trips over his own feet sometimes, the kind of person who's thinking so hard he smacks into polls and apologizes to them. He'd nervously chew on the skin of his thumb as he works. Hiro's an awkward guy, not great at conversation. He's always had a knack for art, and wants to become a city planner. He's not a great bender, but he does like helping out in the kitchen
Yasuko Sato (Ref age 16)
Their only daughter and youngest bio child, it's younger twin Yasuko! Korra chose her name. She knows how much Asami's mom meant to her, and honestly, the baby looked a lot like the old photos of Yasuko. As much as a baby can, at least. Like her brother, she's a fire bender
She's nearly a carbon copy of Asami. Green eyes, wavy black hair, though she smiles a little crooked. She keeps her hair up in a high pony, and even though she needs glasses like her brother, she rarely wears them. She forgets them more often then not, and just takes his to read momentarily. She's, like, "sleeves? Never heard of them"
Yasuko showed real promise in fire bending when Korra first started teaching her, so she decided to get both twins a proper teacher. Yasuko wanted to be a hero like her Moma, and grew up wanting to help people. Her goal is to be a fire fighter! She's the funny friend, always makes others smile, a jokester
Kova Sato (Ref age 19)
So, the next three are all adopted. There was a disaster type happening in the furthest parts of the Northern Water Tribe, and Korra went to help in the aftermath. After helping with search and rescue efforts, she goes to visit the injured to sort of, give them hope
That's where she meets Kova. He's 9 at the time, yet he was working hard to use his water bending to help heal alongside the elder women. She talks to him while handing out some food shipped in from Republic City, and finds out he lost his parents, and has been looking after his younger brother
Long story short, both boys return to the city with her, and Asami ends up understanding why her wife couldn't leave them behind
Kova is a big guy. He's mixed water tribe earth nation, so while he's got dark skin, his eyes are a dark green, and his hair is messy, dark brown. Quiet guy, but tall for his age. Real gentle, there's a reason he has an affinity for healing. He's got little sun freckles too!
He's great with words. He's a blooming poet, writing the stories people tell him during healing sessions. Incredibly kind, loves the idea of memories making someone immortal. The first poems he writes are of his birth parents, and the second? Of his mom's, and his siblings.
Haoyu Sato (Ref age 12)
He's Kova's younger brother, and was only 2 when Korra took them in and brought them to Republic City.
Haoyu is just paler than his older brother, with darker, messier hair, and blue eyes. His smile is bright, pure joy and energy. He's an endless ball of energy, and reminds his mom's and grandparents of a young Korra; he knows he's hot shit. He's an earth bender, starting at age 6
He's obsessed with pro bending. But, he doesn't dream of being an athlete, but an announcer. Reading is tough for him, and he struggles a bit in school, but when he comes home each day, he's surrounded by love, and care. Asami is always happy to sit with him and help him make sense of his school work, gentle, kind, and patient
I imagine he'd wear someone like a hoodie and soft puffy pants, the kind that end above the ankle.
Gyaltsen Sato (Ref age 5)
The youngest, and again, not exactly a planned adoption. His mother was a newer air acolyte, and she didn't make it through the birth. Tenzin asked Korra and Asami to look after baby Gyaltsen away from the busy temple until someone could take him in, but, the mom's got attached
Just barely darker than Asami and the twins, Gyaltsen has the lightest hair in the family, and the darkest eyes. He's an airbender who shows extreme potential, and is one of Jinora's most promising young students
He's got this spark for life. Everything is so cool to him, so amazing, it's rare for him to be disappointed by something. He feels things strongly, and his Moma Korra sits with him to meditate and talk about his big feelings
He's still very young and growing up, so he's got time to become himself
--
ANYWAYS. THERE THEY ARE. TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK!
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kingsofeverything · 1 year
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Thank you to anyone out there who’s read anything I’ve written, left kudos, commented, or messaged me to chat about anything I’ve written. I appreciate you so much 💛
🟨Remember Me Before You ~294k .E. Desperate to find a new place to live after he comes home to find his boyfriend cheating, Harry moves into a loft with three strangers. A New Girl AU.
🟪Spring Fever ~4K .E. Harry’s finally out of the first trimester. He and Louis celebrate.
🟦As You Wish ~25K .E. Harry wished Louis free, and life hasn’t been the same since. Written for @onedirectionbigbang
🟥Southern Comfort ~5K .E. Girl!Direction. At a lavish engagement party thrown by her fiancé’s family, Louis meets what seems like a millions aunts and uncles and cousins, but only one stands out: Harry Styles, a gorgeous brunette in a red dress who makes Louis blush like she might catch fire. Written for @wankersday​.
🟩Uh oh, it’s Magic (when I’m with you) ~7K .E. Everyone Dreams eventually, and everyone’s Dream is different, but all Dreams have one thing in common: They send the Dreamer on a Quest to find their Magic. It’s been months since Louis started his Quest to live as a hermit in a cave in the middle of the woods and he’s not about to let some new guy disturb his hermitage. Written for @1dastroficfest​
⬜️Just Pretend ~90k .E. Louis Tomlinson is a divorced dad who doesn’t date. What free time he has, he likes to spend with his teenage daughter, and if he wants to take someone home, he does it when she’s spending the weekend with her mom. Then he meets Harry Styles, another divorced dad with a teenage daughter, who convinces him it’s a good idea to pretend they’re dating to keep their kids happy. Written for @1dsilverfoxfest​
🟧honey, honey 100 words .NR. a villanelle style poem and drabble inspired by the song “Daylight” and written for @harryshouseficfest​
🟨Late Night Talking ~50k .E. Louis Tomlinson has a new album coming out and a second world tour on the horizon. Promo season gets underway with a stop at Late Night Talking, the late night show hosted by Harry Styles, and Harry Styles just happens to be the man who blew a chance to date Louis a decade ago. Written for the @1dreversebang based on the prompt and gorgeous gifs by @deludedandlostcause
🟦Midnight ~10k .E. “Alphas are for fucking and pheromones,” Louis said during their first conversation, when he was moving into the building and Harry offered to help haul boxes up the stairs. “I’m perfectly capable of carrying my own groceries.” Louis relented when his Omega friend Zayn intervened and asked if he was also capable of moving his couch by himself. All Harry’d wanted to do was be a good neighbor. Now, here he is, half a year later, balls deep and four months into a no strings attached, sex only situation with the Omega of his dreams. He’s still not sure how it happened.
The rest of my Annual* Writing Self-Evaluation is under the cut:
It's been a weird year for me w/r/t fic writing! I wrote my longest fic so far by very much a lot. It was a labor of love and for most of the 8ish months I was writing it, I was feeling very down about my skills and writing in general, but I was having fun with turning New Girl into a larry fic, so I carried on, and I came out the other side ok I guess?
I modded our yearly @wankersday fest and the @harryshouseficfest despite promising myself I'd only do wankfest, and the stress of it solidified that decision lol. No more modding for me (except wankfest).
I wrote 9 fics this year, the lowest number of fics per year since my first year writing, and I posted my first ever fic in October and still wrote 5 fics that year. 6 of my 9 fics this year were for fests. That's more pressure than I usually like to put on myself, but I survived, and here's what my year looked like:
Number of stories posted this year: 9
Word count posted this year: 490,127
Stories with the most:
Kudos: Remember Me Before You (713)
Comment threads: RMBY (656)
Bookmarks: RMBY (605)
Work you are most proud of (and why):
Remember Me Before You my New Girl AU, more than twice as long as the next longest thing I've written, it's really just a love letter to the show. Posting it as a WIP while I finished the last bit was daunting because it's the first time I've done a WIP that wasn't complete before I started posting, but it was so fun! The comments fueled me and I loved chatting with you guys as it was going. Some of you were already New Girl fans, some hadn't seen the show, some starting watching it because of my fic??? it was an experience!
Work you are least proud of (and why):
Uh oh, it’s Magic (when I’m with you) for the @1dastroficfest. It was tough to get started and I think I tried like 4 different ideas for that prompt (The Hermit tarot card), but then Megan @homosociallyyours was like 'what if you took it very literally' and thankfully that worked! This was the first time I've ever been legitimately worried about meeting a deadline.
A favorite excerpt of your writing:
I'm never any good at picking snippets. I usually ask Nic @louandhazaf to assist, but this is part of a snippet I posted earlier this year, so... this is from Just Pretend, my older, divorced larry meet and decide to fake a relationship for their kids fic for @1dsilverfoxfest
According to his mom, he started flirting at two days old, and he’s only gotten better over the last forty-five years. Harry's had about that long to earn a doctorate in dimples. He wields them as he moves closer, pressing his chest against Louis’ palm and lifting his left hand to cradle Louis’ jaw. Cool despite the heat they’ve borrowed from his body, the touch of Harry's rings sends a shiver down Louis’ spine. His heart beats harder as he leans in. 
Louis’s never been a fan of tequila, but the sweet, peppery liquor is hardly perceptible under the taste of lime on Harry's tongue and the swirling, spicy scent of his sweat, deodorant and cologne. Three in the morning is only marginally cooler than midday and after working all night, Louis is damp with sweat and beer and he smells like it. Thankfully, Harry doesn’t seem to mind. He cups the side of Louis’ neck, fingertips toying with the ends of Louis’ silver hair, tickling and sending a thrill through him as he inches closer.
Grabbing hold of Harry's hips, Louis shifts his stance, stepping one foot between Harry's and sliding a hand around to splay across his lower back under the blousy hem of his half-buttoned shirt. Tilting his head, their noses bump, and Harry pulls back, wet lips parted, panting. Louis hardly has time to breathe before Harry guides him into another kiss, holding him so tightly that his forearm presses between Louis’ shoulder blades while his hand cups Louis’ neck. 
Hunching over Louis, his other hand tight on his hip, Harry bends him backwards—dipping him as if they were dancing—and Louis gasps into Harry's mouth. Hungrily, Harry sucks kisses over Louis’ jaw, down his neck to the hollow of his throat, dragging plush lips over the rough two-day beard Louis hasn’t bothered to shave before setting Louis back on his feet. 
Share or describe a favorite review you received:
i can't pick one. i'm terrible at picking favorites! but i will say that every person who read rmby as a wip and commented as they went, you guys are the real mvps of my 2022 fic experience.
A time when writing was really, really hard:
all year. no joke. and i know it seems stupid to say because i've posted almost half a million words this year, but i struggled to enjoy writing for much of this year. deadlines really fuck with my head, so i'm hoping to avoid those next year
A scene or character you wrote that surprised you:
my entire fic for @wankersday in may. it's my first ever time writing girl!direction so i was very nervous and the whole thing surprised me while i was writing it and it continues to surprise me whenever i remember it exists
How did you grow as a writer this year:
idk man. i wrote a kid fic! and i wrote girl!direction. so that's 2 never before things in 2022
How do you hope to grow next year:
tbh i hope to grow in my ability to experience fomo and live with it. i hope to continue to strengthen my ability to say no lol. i'm only planning on writing for wankfest this year, so who knows what'll happen
Who was your greatest positive influence this year as a writer (could be another writer or beta or cheerleader or muse etc etc):
nic @louandhazaf is always in this spot. she's my #1, my best friend, the other half of my brain, and the only reason i write
Anything from your real life show up in your writing this year:
doesn't it always? though tbh nothing specific i can think of at the moment
Any new wisdom you can share with other writers:
just write. and listen to @roseanddaggerpodcast :D
Any projects you’re looking forward to starting (or finishing) in the new year:
i am going back to school in january, so fic writing is being bumped way down the list of my priorities for 2023. like i said above, i only plan to write for @wankersday in may, but tbh idk if i'll be able to. Other than that, I’m looking forward to recording @roseanddaggerpodcast
Tag some writers whose answers you’d like to read. ;)
well, i drafted this post weeks ago lol and since then i've been tagged by @larryyouknow @jacaranda-bloom @louistomlionson @allwaswell16 @haztobegood @louandhazaf @chai-hat-tea @larrysballetslippers and i'll also tag
@londonfoginacup @bananaheathen @disgruntledkittenface @fallinglikethis @sadaveniren @jaerie @lululawrence @absoloutenonsense @alwaysxlarrie @uhoh-but-yeah-alright @cyantific @littleroverlouis @onlythebravest and if i tagged you in an answer above, consider yourself tagged here as well
*All answers should be about works published in 2022
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snifflesthemouse · 1 month
Text
A Poem.
I am going through some personal things with healthcare, and I can truly relate to how it feels learning of a loved one having cancer. When I get stressed, I don't want to do anything stupid. Sobriety isn't something you are, it's something you do. So I wrote a poem about how it sucks knowing when people lie so much.
The Curse of Detecting Lies
I can tell you don’t want to really be here, no matter how well you hide it.
You can tell yourself I won’t know, that I don’t know, but I do.
I know. I always know.
Your mouth is lying to me right now about your diagnosis, and it is hard to keep smiling at you when I know it’s worse than you are saying.
You are a terrible liar; the lack of movement in the corner of your eyes tells me it is a lie. Just say you hate the way I made the potato salad.
You told me that you would never hurt me, and the disgust in your face that flashed for a tenth of a second told me that you would hurt me imminently.
You promised you wouldn’t tell mom about this, and I know you will tell her immediately because of that thing you did with your right shoulder.
Or when you promised me you never cheated on me (that one time). The flare of your nostril and the stress in your voice said everything you lacked the balls to say.
I knew when you said you didn’t make any money today that you were lying; you made enough to get incredibly high and leave me sick.
I knew the minute I took those four Percocet tens that I was lying to myself that I had a handle on this.
I know you were also messing around with my then-best friend. It was the summer before high school, move on.
That look you gave, no, right there, yes. That one. That look and the rub of your neck tells me that even you don’t believe this story.
I know you think I am fat. I know you think I am dumb. I know you think I am not worthy.
I know you can’t stop staring at my chest. I can’t stop you from undressing me, but I can make you just as uncomfortable.
I know you lied when you said you didn't rape her, that she consented.
When you told me you wouldn't do anything stupid, that you felt better, your upper lip was sweating and your pupils changed. I knew you'd try to hurt yourself, and I couldn't do anything at all to stop it.
That man is going to rob that gas station in two minutes, we need to leave.
I know you don't mean it when you say I was a blessing. Your tell came faster than your words.
I know you don’t mean it; I know you wish you never had me.
I know you don’t mean it; I know you wish you never met me.
I know you don’t mean it; I am the human lie detector.
I know you don’t mean it.
I know you don’t mean it.
I know you don’t mean.
I know you don’t.
I know you.
I know.  
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the-record · 2 years
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Hi! Could you do a max x reader with the angst prompt
❛ i hate the way that i don’t hate you. ❜
<3333
pairing: max mayfield x gn!reader
warnings: fighting, mention of b!lly’s death
summary: you accidentally upset max. (based on 10 things i hate about you)
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5 days ago
“max im sorry. you have to believe me.” you begged.
“i don’t have to believe anything y/n.”
it was her birthday, the first one since billy’s death, and you’d promised to take her out. unfortunately, your mom had needed your help and refused to let you leave.
“ill make it up to you darling, please.” you grabbed her hand only for her to yank it away and turn to face you, tears in her waterline.
“don’t call me that.” she backed away, leaving you standing there uselessly. “just leave me the hell alone.”
present
max had been giving you the cold shoulder all week. you desperately missed her and tried everything to get her back.
flowers. chocolate. new cassettes. cards. a new sweater. you’d tried everything in the book, and she still wouldn’t so much as look at you. until english class.
“who would like to share there poems?” your teacher asked. the class stayed quiet. heads and hands down. except for max’s. “max. go ahead.”
she took as shakey breath as she stood in front of the class, notebook in hand.
“i hate the way you talk to me, and the way you cut your hair. i hate the way you drive your car, i hate it when you stare.” she made eye contact with you for a split second before continuing.
“i hate the your big dumb combat boots and the way you read my mind. i hate you so much it makes me sick, it even makes me rhyme.” your eyes filled with tears, as did hers. “i hate it… i hate the way you’re always right, i hate it when you lie. i hate it when you make me laugh, even worse when you make me cry.” a tear streaked her face as she continued.
“i hate it when you’re not around, and the fact you didn’t call. but mostly,” her voiced cracked. “i hate the way i dont hate you, not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.” she slammed the notebook closed and she stomped out the classroom, tears still coming.
you wanted to follow her, so you asked to use the restroom. you’re teacher just rolled her eyes and waved her hand.
grabbing your bag, you raced to follow the red-head and went into the bathroom behind her. you locked the door as you entered, checking the stalls were all empty.
“max…” she raced over, sobbing into your chest. “im so sorry babes. i promise i wont ever miss it again.” she just nodded and held you tighter.
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