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octoagentmiles · 1 year

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Hi! I love your analysis posts! So, I have a question: What kind of music do you think the Octonauts (And any Octo agents you want to add) would listen to, and what are their favorite song?

merci beaucoup <33 I have very little actual musical "knowledge"; I just like specific songs that go beep bap boop a specific way, but I'll try my best here—and as for their favourite songs, I'll just name some songs that remind me of them, if that's okay 👍

Barnacles likes accordion of course, so he'd probably enjoy anything that incorporates it. I can see him liking most genres tbh, he's not super picky—but he definitely likes folk and classical, and he LOVES sea shanties—almost more than Kwazii 👀

Dear Fellow Traveler - Sea Wolf

Born For Greatness - Papa Roach

AND:

Leaving London

Lost

Ship In A Bottle

Abandon Ship* (*pretend it's Kwazii singing to him)

They're all from an album by Steffan Argus, and you need to listen to them in order because they tell a story, and the whole thing is so Him fr.

See also:

The Last Shanty - Derina Harvey Band

—for some Manitoba!Tweak vibes.

Dashi listens to nightcore. She also got Peso into it. Honestly I feel like the two of them are both into pretty much anything—Dashi has a preference for pop, and Peso definitely likes symphonies, ballads, and anything that's chill and lofi.

Dashi also listens to hard rock and heavy metal in her spare time, and it disorients the heck out of whoever witnesses it randomly come on in her shuffled playlists. However, the only type of music I can't see Peso liking, is really loud music; like rock or metal—so they're the exact same and polar opposites at the same time 😂

I ALSO always think of Dashi when I listen to Marina—no idea why lol—might be her accent 😅

I don't have many songs for either of em- but here's what I've got:

Peso:

Cold Cold Cold - Cage The Elephant

Anxiety Song - Human Petting Zoo

Dashi:

Right Hand Man - Something Rotten

Hermit The Frog - Marina. just vibes once again.

Inkling:

Dude exclusively listens to oldies, classics, and like,,, Beethoven probably, BUT! I feel like any one of the Octonauts could ask him to listen to anything and he would. He unironically enjoys Kwazii's music.

Octopus' Garden - The Beatles

Vegimals:

They all have ridiculously contrasting tastes; they all probably enjoy the same kind of music as their respective Octonaut counterparts—but aside from that, they mostly just make their own music so they can all be happy.

Get Back Up Again but SPECIFICALLY the version from Disney's Trolls. trust me on this.

(some) Agent songs under cut:

Calico Jack me beloved:

I headcanon that he wrote his own theme song, so he likes shanties for sure; but I feel like as the years went by and he grew as a person, his music and general interests toned down a lot—so now he's more into ballads, and very Lord Huron or Hozier-esque music.

(all the following songs are angsty but they also hit HARD ykwim?? aye 👀 /pos)

Never Love An Anchor - The Crane Wives

Farewell Wanderlust - The Amazing Devil

Problems - Mother Mother

Metaphor - The Crane Wives

Flight Of The Crows - Jhariah

(oh look a non-angsty song–)

That's Life - Frank Sinatra

Natquik my beloved²:

Barnacles 100% got his music taste from him, I cannot be told otherwise. That's all I have to say about him.

Constellations - The Oh Hellos

Snow - Ricky Montgomery

December - Ricky Montgomery

New Discovery - The Crane Wives

Runaway - Aurora

plus bonus:

Hand Me My Shovel, I'm Going In - Will Wood

Touch-Tone Telephone - Lemon Demon

—to satisfy my personal "I think Natquik deserves to go feral" needs.

Ranger Marsh my belov–:

Exclusively listens to folk and country, and actively refuses to branch out his horizons.

Cicada Days - Will Wood

Swarm Swamp Swim - Cosmo Sheldrake

Birdhouse In My Soul - They Might Be Giants

Tracker:

On one hand, I really like headcanoning that he likes to sing when he's alone—and is actually pretty good; but on the other hand... I think it'd be hilarious if he had unbelievably bland taste in terms of what he enjoys listening to 😂 He has no real preference, so he just lets whoever he's with control the radio. For their sake.

Hold It In - Jukebox The Ghost

I shall not/cannot explain why that song reminds me of him but it does so much-

and I don't have any more for him, RIP ✌️😔 I could probably find some easily if I looked, but I'm lazy ┐⁠(⁠‘⁠～⁠`⁠;⁠)⁠┌

Paani:

He has weird taste too; but unlike Tracker, he has the most alternative underground music taste you can imagine, and he WILL subject you to it. He eats bugs in a universe of talking bugs, and I think it'd be funny if all of his interests were on the same wavelength lmao. He's just a weirdo (affectionate).

Just like Tracker I probably could find more songs if I actually tried to look—but for now all I have is this:

Water Island - My Singing Monsters

I found it on tiktok and it's literally His Song™ ever fr.

#ask #octonauts #ps every song listed is in my playlist 👀👀👀#wink wink nudge nudge /j #i have so many more songs for each character it was kinda hard only picking a handful 😅😅#really exposing my music taste here ain't i #i will never let paani's bug thing go. they need to explain it one day 😭#until then i'm just gonna continue headcanoning him as a weirdo lmaoo xD #i feel like I've never said the word ''taste'' this many times before #well- ok actually i did make posts abt their favourite foods a while back-#but still hfdfhk it doesn't look like a word anymore 😂#anyways #golistentomyplaylistokbye- (/nf)#long post

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dionysianfreak · 1 year

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hi lovely ^__^ love your blog and dionysus altar. i definitely feel a strong pull to dionysus but im not really sure how to reach out and talk to him (im not super great with visualizing things via meditation) any tips would be appreciated !! 🍷🍇

hello sunshine ! 🌻 thank you so much, I really appreciate your kind words. I'm glad that you feel drawn to Dionysos, He's such a wonderful Deity to start a relationship with.

the simplest way to make contact is to simply begin worship or devoting time towards familiarizing yourself with Him. this looks different for many people, so you could:

build your own shrine/altar, physical or digital. i like to think of shrines as building a new room in your home for the Deity to exist in. this is because shrines are sacred spaces between you and Them, just like the living room is sacred between members of a household. it is where you come together for important events or simply just to be together

listen to the world around you. in the woods, if possible simply because I personally feel very in tune with Him in nature. even sitting in your yard would be good. the point is the become aware of the world. watch people go by. what colors are the cars ? how many different bird songs do you hear ? i believe Dionysos is the Bliss of awareness, so be aware of your slice of the world.

divination is ol' reliable. my personal favorite are tarot, shuffling music, and bibliomancy:

tarot is straightforward but takes a lot of practice. to this day I still have to reference my card meanings and it's been 4 years since I started using tarot.

with bibliomancy, I simply sit with whatever book I want and I'll close my eyes and shuffle though the pages gently until my hand stops (usually from me getting distracted) or I stop it myself. the first paragraph I lay eyes on is the one I read.

finally, for shufflemancy I prefer to close my eyes and randomly generate a number on Google. I use that number as the amount of times I hit shuffle, and the song that appears is the answer. i encourage you to make your own rituals for divination, but these are simple starting points

meditation is an option mainly because it isn't about visualization. meditation is about being present and tuning out the external in favor or the internal. it takes many months/years, but you can slowly train yourself to calm your inner voice enough to allow it to speak for itself. I use meditation to simply feel the Theoi, feel my room, and feel the universe. to be present in the moment I am in, as it's the only moment that truly exists then

this is all I can think of for now, but please feel free to add on if anyone reading has some more <3

for you movedd, all you need to do in order to worship is dedicate time, mental or physical. communication is nice, but I find the Gods reward us, without communication, in ways we would never have asked for if we could speak

#dionysus #dionysos #helpol #hellenic polytheism #paganism #worship #resources #beginner helpol #anon #ask #polytheism #greek gods #theoi

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taruruchi · 10 months

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evil laughter 💭 🍳 💒 🔊

i now realize that looks more threatening with the qiao ling pfp. i apologize in advance. have an evil night <3

If this wasn't an ask game I'd totally be scared like. What do these emojis mean. Am I gonna die 😭 Anyways ty sol <33

💭: You like to daydream about the two of you to

There are so many daydreams. It comes randomly. But yesterday I was rewatching Tangled AND IT'S SO UNORIGINAL BUT I WAS SO. LISTEN IT'S SO PRETTY AND EUGENE'S VOIC— *gets dragged away*

(Also I get reminded of this memory of my friend saying "who do you imagine it with bc you can't tell me you don't do that" or something along those lines so now. I always do that. And WTH I SEE THE LIGHT JUST CAME ON. WHAT KIND OF SORCERY IS THIS. I'M JUST PLAYING MY 1.9K LIKED SONGS ON SHUFFLE????)

🍳: You could imagine cooking with them to

I just chose these because they have sunshine-y, cute, and cheerful vibes! They're both also kind of about that ✨domestic life vibes✨ (that's more of stay stay stay tho)

💒: You would play at your wedding

Now why would you (and lina) pick the hardest one. But, it definitely needs to be an instrumental, even better if it's piano, and I actually know the perfect arrangement (even if it incorporates the most overused piece ever)

BUT. I WAY prefer this arrangement, even if it doesn't really fit them. It's too good not to be played (the piano guys are really really good)

🔊: Make a playlist between 2-8 songs long for your self ship

*rubs hands together* Time to pull up The Playlist (also didn't you make a playlist for me before KSMDKFSM)

It's a duet. It's piano. That's literally all I want in life

The instrumentals my beloved <3 And I think this is the ship but from her perspective. Like, it's Her Song

IT'S LITERALLY THEM ???? I've never seen a song match more than this one. Who are Evan and Zoe

THIS COVER IS SO BEAUTIFUL. IT'S SO SOFT AND AKSMFNFMS I love it sm. Just a guitar as the instrumental? Absolutely genius.

I just need to add this because 1) instrumentals 2) Enchanted my most belovedest ever 3) The song is gorgeous I'll never not love it

Gorgeous by Taylor Swift

Audio limit smh. Anyways. “Ocean blue eyes looking in mine, I feel like I might sink and drown and die”

What You Mean To Me from Finding Neverland

Absolutely gorgeous song. The harmonizing is AMAZING

Mabagal by Daniel Padilla and Moira Dela Torre

This is basically, like, the Filipino Sway but it's slower and softer? I absolutely adore it <3

#Now I'm sleepy I wanna sleep #The playlist question is so fun #☆ ask games! ✉️

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wrenoxford · 11 months

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Wren’s Tattoo Meanings

Q and a diamond in red that symbolize a Queen of Diamonds- Wren got this after they produced their first album to celebrate themselves. She felt that she was becoming the queen of the world with all the access to riches (diamonds) that she could ever wish for.

“I’m a loser baby”- This a reference to Beck’s 1994 song “Loser” which they absolutely adore.

“NIGHTMARE”- This is a reference to one of her songs where she said “Someone like me/ can be a real nightmare, completely aware/ But I’d rather be a real nightmare, than die unaware, yeah/ Someone like me can be a real nightmare, completely aware/ But I’m glad to be a real nightmare, so save me your prayers.”

“999″- Wren got this tattoo to remind herself to be fully conscious every minute as she feels that nine for her means completeness, and for her that would look like being so mentally well that a moment is just… a moment.

“Life’s a Mess”- This tattoo is before the “999″ tattoo, and it was intended to be alone, but Wren decided that she wanted to add an answer to life being a mess. If it’s a mess, she should be conscious and aware at each of those moments.

“17″ with Dark Blue Lining and Teal Center- In a period of uncertainty if she was doing the right thing getting on Youtube, Wren pulled Tarot cards to give her a sense of guidance, and The Star card seemed to fly right at her as she was shuffling. It was then that she knew she was on the right track. The Star card is the 17th card in the tarot deck.

XXX- Wren has always railed against people expecting everyone to be perfect, and once they heard their step-father say that Wren should have a sign on theme at all time that warned people that they were explicit. She thought this was funny and tattooed herself with the explicit symbol.

Line Drawing of Roses- they just thought it was a pretty design, and they wanted to have something elegant.

Self portrait of themselves with the word ‘EVERYTHING’- This is a reminder to themselves that they have to be everything. That there isn’t going to be anyone to save or drive them.

Sheet music in black ink- this obviously symbolizes the work that she does every day. It’s a celebration of that which makes her happiest in life.

Ombre red and grey image of Mars- Mars was the god of war in Roman mythology, and for Wren it meant to keep fighting every day for what she wants.

“Heaven in Hiding”- this is a reference to a song on her first album titled that.

A Frowning Ghost- The ghost doesn’t mean anything. Just a neat tattoo

Line Drawing of Match with Red Tip- Wren randomly selected a couple of their fans to get matching matchstick tattoos with them, they’re each going to add a flame once they’ve accomplished something major.

Horseshoe- In tattoo culture, you’re not supposed to tattoo a horseshoe upside down because it means all the luck is spilling out, so it’s actually bad luck. they got an upside-down horseshoe to signify that they don’t need luck.

Pair of Jeans with Playboy Icon on Butt- Wren thinks playboy magazines are neat, and they have always wanted to be on one.

“Sins” and “Forgiveness” on either side of Balance- It’s a reminder to Wren that forgiving herself will always help balance out the damage of her sins. She still has trouble believing this, but is there to help remind her.

“No Face” from Spirited Away- This movie was one of Wren’s favorite movies to watch with their father.

“These violent delights have violent ends”- This quote is a reference to something that Friar Laurence says to Romeo in Romeo and Juliet. It meant that the violent (extreme) desires of Romeo and Juliet was always going to end in ruin, and Wren has always felt that was how her romantic life had gone.

Butterfly- Butterflies became an integral image in her second album.

Brat- This is a reference to how her father would lovingly call her a brat when she was young.

“The Crazy Kind”- This was a lyric that they had in their song, “Him and I”.

“f”- F is for focus. It’s the tattoo Wren touches when she is anxious.

“Serendipity”- Serendipity is a word that means ‘a happy accident’” to Wren. This was how her birth father explained her existence, because he and her mother didn’t realize they wanted a forever kid until they met her. It was an accident, but he seemed to have thought of her as a happy one. This was how she wanted to remember him. Happy.

“BABY”- Look sometimes a person needs to have a little fun.

Four Leaf Clover- You gotta be pretty lucky to see this tattoo ;)

“HOPELESS”- This is a reference to her second album.

“Four elements” inspired by Little Prince- The cactus symbolizes loneliness and the desert the main characters were in, the fox represents the fox in the story what helped the Little Prince see the value of his rose, the volcano symbolizes the volcanoes on the home planet of the Little Prince, and the rose symbolizes the vain, fragile rose that the Little Prince cared so much about.

Dagger on Calf- The dagger is to remind themselves that they can be dangerous, but that they can also be incredibly delicate- and both can be true.

“13″ Dagger on Thigh- Much like Judas Iscariot arriving as the 13th person at the feast with Jesus, Wren has always felt a bit like a bad omen amongst the ‘families’ she’s been part of. She feels like the dagger that always brings things down.

Mouths Kissing- Wren just thought this was pretty.

“POOR THING” bandaid- She kept hurting her knees as a child, so she eventually got this as a sort of joke to herself.

“SEEDS”- Wren liked to think of it as her planting seeds with every step.

“NCF”- Wren got this tattoo with a fan. It was her fan’s initials. Her fan has “RPC” and an anchor on their foot.

#tattoo #tattoos

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papers-from-a-ghost · 1 year

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We just finished a Saturday night dinner by this odd open mall place, Molito, and are currently heading down to the edges of the roads. My earphones are playing Peddler by Lunar Vacation and it honestly sets the mood as a randomly shuffled song. The singer talks about feeling down, falling down, and more as the lights from across the road shine with a warm tinted yellow shine. There are nothing in my thoughts, other than the little things, like this dude with vibrant green hair and a denim jacket that walked across giving me a deadpan stare; rude but fair. I'd react the same if I saw someone with a black supreme shirt, shorts and half-shaven legs, and some book bag thats accompanied with a vibrant pink book awkwardly tucked in the palm of their right hand. Not my best look, or desired look. Not even a look I wanted to wear.

We wander under the arch of that place, across the road enveloped in yellow lights, and stand idly. A bit stupidly may I add, looking as if we’ve been struck dumbfounded.

“Where… do we go..-“ “I dunno” I’d say if I actually wasn’t mute at every chance I’d get.

“Maybe we can just stay right here by the front?”

Good idea, though it does defeat the purpose of the few tables that were empty infront of us. I get it though – or maybe not – that watching strangers or even being nearby them in a compact setting is a bit intrusive, just being next to their business when there wasn't anyone there a second before, especially for us wandering until we’d leave a minute later. It just feels a bit rude, even when we’d form a judgement before deciding it was.

Bap.

“Watch your head dude, you’re a bit too tall to not watch it.” Someone remarks as I bump my head at the soft side of an umbrella, tilting it a bit as a result. A lady in dress pants that are pitch black, and a vibrant pink top that defies the laws of light and shadows, stares at me when that happens, and lightly giggles from a bit away.

“looks like a lipstick” I say internally, again, to not be rude or incidentally strike up a 10 minute conversation that would end in awkward silence. There are plenty of interesting people out tonight now that I’ve witnessed the lipstick lady though. There’s this kid in a waldo outfit thats hoping around the fences of a wheelchair ramp pretty stupidly; there are ( Possibly, but likely with the hand-holding. Not seriously assuming though. ) two dudes on a date by the front chairs of this open ice cream café.

I still don’t get the open-everything plan that this place has but I appreciate it. There are surprisingly a few tourists here that I have no clue on why they’d be in a local’s area; people suddenly joining the small band upfront; and lastly, the other half of the group that catches up to us where we stand.

“You guys enjoying the music?”

“Yeah! Though is everyone here?”

“I think so-“

Their voices drown out in my ear. Willingly of course, not by the now medium-sized band that has a midi keyboard reminiscent of something Vulfpeck would use. Everything from here on out becomes a blur since i never really wanted to be here. I was more of a requirement than an option to bring. We get candy apples on our way out, they gawk at sports cars I don't even bother about, and suddenly we are driving.

"So, ------, what job you want when you grow up?"

I hate this question. Mostly because its the only question or thing they ever ask me, including school applications, and whatever scam they found and fell for this time. I didn't hear them clearly though as i was already drowning my ears in the 3rd album I could find in my library.

"Uh. for what?"

"For-" she pauses, before laughing hysterically. Then everyone follows after.

Even with earphones that could mute out static silence without music playing, I could hear them, and probably everyone outside too. "Oh I'm sorry, i have everything already. I'm contented as- as rich. A job for what-?" She's clearly drunk, swaying in the motion of the car when she makes this notation, but she further amplifies the laughter.

There are bright warm lights passing us by, running away from this moment - from here - atleast from this perspective. What does she count as rich? the obvious is money-rich, but I wonder if she ever considers life-rich. Does that make sense? cause it doesn't, no matter how many times I try to reformat this seemingly intangible thought. I'd just rather be content at my lowest, than riddled with problems at the highest i could reach; if I could be numerically rich. I'll finish that thought after one more bit of rest.

#bad writing #novel #writing #writers on tumblr #writer #personal #new to tumblr #new on tumblr #new here #idkwhattodotohelp

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mixtmedea · 2 years

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core memory: part 2

part 1 | fluff, crack | plant trio

cw: a bit of reckless driving, also not proofread lol sorry about that

“…but then she actually enters the garage! was the entire sentient house not enough?!”

nobara rants in exasperation, regarding a horror movie that she’d recently seen with maki as yuuji pulls the car into a parking spot. megumi adds a comment about the movie differing from the novel.

they had just spent a good couple hours at an arcade, playing games, eating at the arcade’s food court, and complaining about the rigged claw machines. this calls for a snack break, yuuji claimed.

“she manages to escape outside, just to go back inside, on the same haunted property.” she scoffs, as the three exit the car and shut the doors.

they make their way through the empty parking lot and enter through the glass doors of a small convenience store, the sound of a bell jingling against the frame. the cashier looks up from his newspaper momentarily to acknowledge them, and returns to reading as they traverse the aisles.

yuuji cheerily waltzes down to the refrigerated area for drinks while nobara disappears down a row of shelves for snacks.

this left megumi, who wasn’t necessarily looking for any specific snacks, to wander down a few randomly categorized shelves near the front of the store, waiting for the other two to finish.

he briefly glances out the window, the sun already setting and painting the rim of the sky with a vibrant mix of orange and purple. building silhouettes were already blanketed by the dark. megumi returns his attention to the colorful selection of sweets and goods before him.

megumi stood examining a brightly packaged bag of chips in one hand and a small box of gummies in the other when he heard,

“get the chips. i’ve tried those gummies before, they’re basically rubber.” nobara peers over megumi’s shoulder.

he almost drops the box in surprise when he spins around to face nobara, who’s arms are currently filled with a variety of chips, baked goods, and all the like.

“are we going to eat all of that?” megumi raises his brow.

nobara shrugs. “well if we don’t, then the rest of it we can save for the dorms.”

megumi puts the box back on the shelf and the two wander to the corner of the store where yuuji was still deciding which drink he wanted.

he handed two drinks to megumi, who actually had free hands, and then took one more bottle out of the fridge. he glances up to the corner of the store and noticed a round mirror displaying their reflections.

yuuji reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone. nobara is quick to follow his gaze up to the mirror, and elbows megumi to move in closer to fit in the reflection.

yuuji’s phone flashes as he grins, nobara poorly attempts a peace sign despite her snack-loaded arms, and megumi holds up the drinks, slightly confused.

“did you lose the aux cord?” yuuji quickly glances over at nobara who was shuffling and adjusting herself to check for where the wire disappeared to. his eyes return to the dark road ahead of them.

“i’m pretty sure it was still connected before we- oh wait! found it.” she says as she pulls it from under her shoe and plugs it back into the port.

“y’know, this place is almost a little unsettling when it’s super dark like this.” nobara looks up from her phone in the middle of selecting a song. they were driving through a heavily forested road, the car headlights tearing through the dark.

“we fight curses for a living, kugisaki.” megumi states blatantly from his spot in the back seat.

nobara glares at him in the rearview mirror. “i just said it was unsettling! and i still haven’t stopped thinking about that horror movie from earlier. it’s giving me the same energy.”

“that was a movie.” megumi rolls his eyes. “not like there’s much to jump at us out here.”

“i don’t know,” yuuji chimes in, “it happened to gojo once with that cursed-oh shit!”

almost on cue, a figure speeds in front of their car, and yuuji’s foot slams the breaks.

muffled, unified screaming can be heard from inside the vehicle as the deer in front of them freezes. its glassy eyes make contact with their terrified expressions before it quickly prances off the road and back into the forest.

yuuji’s tight grip on the wheel relaxes as he exhales, and he turns to his friends to make sure they’re okay. nobara has a hand pressed against the window and a hand digging into the seat. megumi’s seatbelt had barely kept him from flying forward, he was clutching the belt and a spilling bag of chips he had accidentally popped when he attempted to reach for anything to hold on to.

with adrenaline still rushing through his veins, yuuji can’t help but laugh at their shocked reactions, despite having reacted the same way.

seated outside on the wooden porch that outlined the dorm buildings, the three pop open their drinks and munch on a select few snacks from their chunky grocery bag that rested beside them. a grassy field stretched out before them, flickering with fireflies.

nobara took a sip from her strawberry flavored ramune while she listened to megumi explain the plot of the novel version of the earlier horror film.

yuuji laid beside them, arms and legs outstretched as he absorbed their conversation. he places his hands back on his stomach as he reflected on their eventful day off. the fuzzy light from the fireflies kept fading in and out of his peripheral vision, and the sound of his friends’ chatter started becoming faint. yuuji closes his eyes.

for the first time in a while, he’s never felt more at peace.

bonus:

“do we wake him up? do we carry him?” nobara looms over yuuji, who’s soundly asleep without having finished his drink.

“i don’t think either of us are strong enough to carry him while he’s out cold.” megumi is also hovering over yuuji now, scrunching up his finished bag of chips.

“you think your demon dog can carry him?” nobara smirks at megumi.

“i’m not summoning Totality.”

<> rights reserved to © mixtmedea. please do not plagiarize or modify my writing.

#jujutsu kaisen #megumi fushiguro #itadori yuuji #kugisaki nobara #jjk headcanons #jjk fluff #itafushikugi #wow i live for these three #they deserve happy endings #I MISS THEM SO MUCH #give them back akutami…….

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misha-moose-dean-burger-lover · 3 years

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for @bend-me-shape-me's spn advent calendar 2020. prompt: carols.

dedicated to @one-more-offbeat-anthem!! happy birthday <3

After Chuck's defeated, and Billie's gone, and the Empty has been bargained with (semantics, any of the Winchesters would say if you asked one of the four to elaborate) into returning Cas in exchange for eternal sleep, there's peace.

After they're done, and really done, there's time.

A moment to breathe, a minute to look at the clouds, and hours stretching endless, days on end, resonating with something resembling quiet.

And then, there's a guitar.

"Nope." Dean declares. "Never seen that thing in here before. And I once did Christmas inventory by myself, so I should know."

Sam snickers at Dean's cavalier tone. He'd been content to examine the instrument from a distance, unlike his brother, but that didn't mean he wasn't paying attention. "You had to do it yourself, Dean. Those were the exact words of the bet."

"I was drunk, and you hustled me!"

"You've known I play poker my entire life!"

"Well, yeah." Dean flashes his best shit-eating grin. "But you've sucked, your entire life, so —"

"— sure I have —"

"— your entire life has really just been a very long, very lame hustle!" Dean spreads his arms in a display of triumph. "And ergo, you hustled me into Christmas inventory-ing. The case is rested, your honor."

"That's not how you say —"

"Sam. Dean." Cas interjects, loud and exasperated. Sam shuts up immediately, eyes falling to his lap, while Dean exchanges a sheepish look with Cas (and Jack, who to his credit, seemed to be unaffected by the mini-feud. But that's less the part about him being God-Lite and more about him being himself. A kid who grew up watching his dads bicker endlessly and mostly, uneventfully, and has come to terms with it as a primary aspect of (at least, his) family.)

Cas, as usual, puts up with less of their crap. "Is this really necessary right now?"

Dean loves him for it, except when it's targeted at Dean and since that's kind of a lot, he isn't sure he loves it, or just loves Cas and generalises the things he does under the wider bracket of Cas.

"And if it's not," Cas goes on, using what is probably his I-led-garrisons-in-heaven voice, which automatically sends a shiver up Dean's spine. "Can we agree the guitar is, somehow, a recent addition and leave it at that?"

Sam nods slightly, apologetic. Dean just rolls his eyes, but it's a yes. (Everyone there knows it's a yes.)

"It's not cursed." Jack cuts in brightly. "Or out of the ordinary at all."

"So," Dean blinks. "We just happen to have an awesome new guitar show up, completely randomly, in this top secret Bunker no one know about, minus any ulterior motives or death curses?"

Jack grins. "Yes."

"Cool." Dean says immediately, and Sam huffs an amused laugh. He thinks he sees Cas smile as well, and a smirk grows on his face.

"Dibs."

Unsurprisingly, nobody counters his dibs, and Dean ends up taking the guitar to his room.

It's after a few days of insecurity, leading right into embarrassment, leading further to ignoring its existence, and further still to a mostly depressive array of memories — before it circles back to insecurity, and is about to repeat all over again, when he stops himself in his proverbial spiral, and decides to just friggin' do it.

That night, he picks up the pick.

Fiddles with it in his hands for a minute, and proceeds to abandon the idea again, because it does not feel right. Different shape, different weight.

And Dean Winchester's already enough of a misfit for this project, for his guitar pick to be a poor goddamn fit in his hand too.

But there's something about being so close that stirs up motivation in his heart, similar to the first day they found the damn thing, and next morning, he's out looking for a music shop in town.

That night, he finally plays.

It's uncertain — experimental — and he soon realizes why nobody ever says a damn thing about guitars when they say you never forget how to ride a bike.

But then, slowly, and really slowly at that, music seems to return to his fingers.

It isn't smooth by any chance, or even really accurate, but there's a faint tug in his brain that leads him to the next chord, and a twitch in his wrist that tells him when to strum, and he's awful, he's really friggin' awful, but even repeatedly saying so in his head refuses to dampen the overwhelming feeling that lights him up from the inside to start to feel like maybe he can play again. There's hope, and there's terrible, off-timed, broken music, and there's Dean in the middle of it, and maybe he can actually do this.

Recollection of how to play had come to his hands as they trembled, and tried, but the exhilaration of it, and the joy, only come back to his heart once he'd stopped, heart racing, adrenaline high, and unexplainable tears pricking his eyes.

Dean Winchester goes to bed that night, giddy in a way he hasn't been in years.

And outside his bedroom, his family of three exchange confused glances when the playing stopped abruptly, and then smiles when a sound that can only be said to bear semblance to a squeal, follows the silence.

(The first song Dean had played in over twenty five years had been Joy to the World.

It had also been the first song he'd ever learned — Cassie's choice, not his. Sam, Cas and Jack didn't know any of that. To them, it had just been a christmas carol. But there was also something so moving about that, soft in a way each of them knew Dean would fight against being, that they didn't realize they hadn't budged from Dean's door, long until faint snores replaced the quiet, and they left for their own beds, wordlessly already having decided on a plan for the next day.)

Cas knocks first on Dean's bedroom door, and all music immediately ceases. There's a yell from inside after ten seconds of a shuffling kind of silence.

"Yeah?"

"May I come in?" Cas asks.

Another pause.

Cas wonders worriedly if Sam and Jack were mistaken when they said that Cas had to be first, that he was their best shot at getting Dean to open up — the easiest past Dean's line of defense.

Then Dean says, a little quieter. "Yeah, sure."

Cas enters, gently closing the door behind himself before his eyes land on Dean — and he fights the urge to smile, because Dean hasn't kept away the guitar or anything. It's still on his lap, not in playing stance, with his arms folded over it — but he's not trying to hide it from Cas.

"Is everything okay?" Dean interrupts his reverie. Cas nods.

Neither of them say anything for a minute.

"Can I listen?"

Cas surprises himself with his own courage to ask — no twisted words or excuses to stay, just a simple question. Things were so rarely simple for them, but this wasn't a common occurrence either so it evened out.

"Y-yeah." Dean mutters.

Cas lights up.

"I suck, by the way." Dean adds, almost immediately. "But I'll suck less with time, I'm hoping. I mean, I'm supposed to, you know, but I — uh, I mean — maybe I —"

Cas realizes that he hadn't stopped smiling at Dean and that's what had made Dean falter, and he looks away, embarrassed.

"I'll just play, I guess." Dean manages smally, sounding as embarrassed as him.

"Please."

Dean clears his throat instead of playing.

"Yeah."

Cas can tell he's nervous. Even if he weren't good at, and very used to reading Dean, he could've gauged as much. And he wishes he had the right words, he really does, but he's aware a sincere speech of how much it means that Dean let him stay, and listen, would have the opposite effect of calming.

Then there's another knock on the door, and Cas relaxes.

"Dean?"

Sure enough, it's Jack.

Sam had explained how Dean was most likely, unfortunately, to deflect if he was there — "his denial fires up, Cas. I associate it with a parenting complex of some kind, and he just won't let go of it." — so the order had been decided as Cas, Jack and Sam. No overwhelming by arriving all three at once, or one after the other as if it were planned. No, they'd enter after some time, giving the previous person time to make Dean comfortable to them before the next enters.

Cas thinks it's a rather brilliant plan, and wonders if he should ask Sam to formulate a similar one to get Dean to open up about other things too. He doesn't, ultimately.

"Yeah?" Dean yells back.

"Have you seen Cas?"

That had been the plan.

"Yeah," Dean raises his voice to answer. "He, uh. He's right here. Come on in."

And Jack does, and eyes Cas with probably too much meaning (he means triumph) for Dean to not have noticed, before turning to the latter. "Oh. Were you about to play for Cas?"

Dean colors at that, his ears reddening almost instantly, and Cas files it away for pondering later.

"Can I be here too?"

And Dean's eyes widen a little — sign of anxiety, maybe understanding — and he licks his lips and then he nods. "I guess. I mean, okay, fine. But didn't you need Cas for something?" He adds, confused.

"I," Jack hesitates. Oh no, Cas thinks. Sam's prepared him for this, but Jack looks like he's about to, as Dean would say, wing it. And all-powerful or not, he knows his son is a terrible liar. "No, I just wanted to know if you'd seen him."

Dean narrows his eyes.

"Now I do know. That, uh, you've seen him." Jack braves on, determined to reach the bottom of the proverbial hole he'd dug for himself apparently. "So now, I don't need to know anything. Now I can stay."

Dean sighs.

"I can, right?"

There's a lightness in Dean's voice instead of tension when he says, "Yeah."

"Thank you." Jack says brightly, and all Cas can do is shake his head when Jack turns to him for feedback, and the both of them proceed to wear (nearly matching, but not on purpose) excited stares as they focus on Dean.

The final straw is when there's a third knock on the door, and Sam pokes his head in. One unconvincing "Where's everyone at?" later, he's joined Cas and Jack in staring with a unnecessary (and hopefully unintended) comfort-the-vic's-family smile at Dean.

God, he loves these dumbasses and would give his life for everyone present in the room, but none of them can act for shit.

It's glaringly obvious they've all respectively shown up to listen to him play.

Which is bullshit in itself, because Dean wasn't being modest when he told Cas he sucks — he does suck. But then, he doesn't think any of them would mind. Sam would probably unlock new levels of the puppy eyes if he knew how happy even playing awfully, made Dean. Jack would be blunt, of course, but undeterringly sweet. And Cas? He'd probably smile at him all the way through, just — that smile of his, that always seems to make time freeze and Dean's heart stutter.

So Dean decides magnanimously to not call them out.

Right away, anyway.

Instead, he turns to them with a question. "Any requests?"

(He can't play one of the only songs he remembers having learned without errors yet, so obviously asking for requests is the right way to go. But you see, once you've given up on impressing, it's only fair to see yourself to the end of the chaos.)

"Christmas carols." Jack answers before anyone else.

"It's May."

"Sam's," Jack swallows. Dean should really get on teaching the kid how to lie. "Sam's making me listen to carols."

"In May?" He asks his brother this time.

Sam shrugs, struggling to keep a diplomatic face.

"You're going to grow up to be the young adult who doesn't take off the Christmas lights in January." Dean informs Jack, who absorbs his words with all the seriousness Dean should have expected. "And, fine. We can do carols."

Cas speaks up. "Any carol you'd like, Dean."

"Nah," Dean shakes his head. "Jack requested it. We'll do what he says." And he insists to his conscience that he said so because he wants to make Jack happy, and not because he's well aware the kid isn't being subjected to carols by Sam in friggin' May, and probably doesn't know any.

"Oh." Jack's face falls. He looks at Sam in the most conspicuous way anyone's ever looked at anyone. "I —"

"Uhhuh?"

"Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer!" Cas blurts, on behalf of Jack, and there's a two second gap where Sam facepalms and Jack exchanges a conspirational glance with Cas, and then Dean's throwing his head back and laughing.

And soon, Sam's joining in with an exasperated kind of chuckling as if he's gotten stuck in the wrong team but he doesn't regret a thing, and then Cas starts too, mostly from looking at Dean losing his shit (Dean strictly ignores thinking about that part and focuses on imprinting Cas's laugh to memory) and probably also because the ridiculosity of the entire situation probably struck him, and of course Jack's smiling at all of them, and it's, altogether, everything Dean could ever have wished for.

The evening ends with Dean playing Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer (of course) for at least an hour while consistently getting better at the repeating music, and although it's him humming under his breath (like he always has while playing) that starts it off, soon all of them are offering their own awful renditions to the chaos. Cas is off-key, Sam somehow manages to screw up the lyrics, and Jack is as flat as a friggin' plateau.

And it all comes together in a wholly unmelodious kind of awesome — to Dean the same way they say a mother's love comes through for an ugly child.

After Rudolph, it's Silent Night (another song Dean's learned, it hits him, once he's trying to find the right chord) and even Cas manages to look disappointed at the lyrics Sam and he come up with to make up for not knowing the real ones, and since Jack's never heard this one, he simply listens in rapt attention leaving Dean wondering if he probably ended up learning the wrong version on account of all his concentration.

And last of all, it's We Wish You A Merry Christmas, and Dean plays the chorus enough times that he's perfect at it, because for once, no one messes up the beat or the lyrics, and everyone has the most fun.

All in all, it's an evening to remember.

What Dean learns through it all is primarily the lesson that letting your family think they tricked you into having an audience is sometimes an excellent choice to make, and that things can be crap, but still be enjoyed. That doesn't mean he's not going to practice his ass off learning to play at least the choruses of the Led Zepp tracks he gifted Cas (the idea came to him in bed last night, and Cas has always sounded like he enjoyed them, okay?) so he can play them 'for Cas' as the kid so casually put — but then, some things are different from other things, just the way some love's different too.

And while some things are about efforts, and saying the words that scare you, others are about letting go, and singing carols in bright and sunny May.

The only thing Dean's sure about is that just about all of it comes down to being free.

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thedistrictsleepsalonetonight · 3 years

Text

Your mess is mine

Sue may only be a math major, but she knows this much about telling a story: it needs to have a beginning, middle, and an end.

If she were to sit down and write one, here is where it would start — Emily laughs and she falls in love. It doesn’t matter the year, the month, or the minute; when Emily laughs, she falls in love. Sue’s a little slow when these things are concerned, love doesn’t come to her as quickly or as easily as it has historically come to Emily. I saw you in the coffee shop and I knew you were the one, she’s fond of telling Sue, usually during fights. It’s highly annoying that Emily thinks it’d work on her. Even more annoying is the fact that it does.

Alright, does she have moments of intense déjà vu sometimes? Like when they’re lying in bed, after one of Austin’s house parties, and Sue curls up into Emily’s soft shoulders, plays with her pretty, pretty hands? Or when she catches Emily conked out in front of her laptop in a corner table at the café on her break and gently wakes her up? Sure. But isn’t that what love is? The same five gestures repeated in infinite ways, creating a well of infinite affection. So if walking the steps with Emily settles deep into her bones without flinching, as if they’ve done this before, she’s convinced that it’s because they’re well and truly perfect together.

(Definitely not because — and this is something that has been occurring to her more and more lately — they were star-crossed lovers in a past life a century ago.)

(That would be crazy.)

(Right?)

*****

Falling in love aside, Emily can be really, infuriatingly, secretive about the worst of things. Sometimes it is charming, watching her having to pick her way through multiple explanations, create long-winded detours just to attempt to confuse Sue into getting exasperated enough to drop the subject altogether. But that’s at the very end, when it turns out that she was going to all this trouble to make sure Sue wasn’t going to find out she’d gotten her that one Hawaiian shirt Sue had off-handedly admired once, aeons ago. Or that she’s been holed up in their room all day because she’s been setting up lights in honor of it being exactly six months since they first hugged. Which is why she is more resigned that surprised when Lavinia sits down in front of her, leans in, and asks her what she’s doing for Emily’s birthday next week.

Sue sneaks a look at Emily who is currently chatting with an old lady who usually comes in on the weekends. Her girlfriend happens to be one of those baristas who is beloved by the elderly, God only knows why. All the older ladies will hang back at the counter and tell her all about their grandkids’ schools and ballet recitals. In return, Emily will rant to them about college and apparently, Sue as well, which was something she discovered one day when she walked in and two old ladies gave her teasing yet approving smiles from their table.

(And then took her aside to whisper — Showing a little skin wouldn’t do any harm and would keep your girl on her toes — which near about killed her)

The entire situation is hilarious. Also the most adorable thing she has ever seen.

“Why haven’t you guys discussed your birthdays yet?”

“It’s just never,” Sue muses, “come up, I guess.”

Austin rollerblades past, swivels to a stop and bends so he’s approximately level with their faces. “Are we talking about,” he says, lowering his voice to a comical whisper, “Emily’s birthday?”

Lavinia pulls him down, so he’s sitting on the spare chair. “And Sue’s, apparently. Did you know her birthday falls, like, nine days after Emily’s?”

Austin stares at her, wide-eyed. “That means it’s on the.... 19th?

Sue nods.

“The 19th of December? After Emily’s birthday, on the 10th of December?”

“Y....es?”

He swipes at his phone, taps a couple of buttons, and then looks up with a smug smile. “I knew I remembered something. Look.”

Lavinia has to angle her whole body to see, but it registers for both of them at the same time. A certain poet and her muse, who also apparently shared the same birthday as her and Emily.

“Huh,” Lavinia says. “Maybe there is something to Emily’s theory after all.”

“You mean Emily’s theory that we’re the reincarnations of those two?” she asks, hearing her own voice get progressively more hysterical by the word. She clears her throat, takes a deep breath, adds it to the list of rapidly growing coincidences in her head that she’s never going to give a closer look to, because that would be crazy.

“Really the only part of this I’m genuinely shocked by,” Lavinia says after a long pause, in which Sue is struggling to reason with the logical part of her brain, “is that Austin remembers Emily Dickinson’s birthday.”

Austin smiles proudly, and the thought is so funny that it drives potential insanity out of her mind eventually.

*****

“Why didn’t you tell me your birthday’s tomorrow?”

Emily startles from where she’s staring out the window of the car, and Sue has about a moment to regret blurting it out before they’re looking at each other. She’d spent the entire week setting up the entire thing for Emily and now it probably won’t even be a surprise, but she’s insanely curious. No better time for it, either way. She’d planned everything perfectly, from picking up Emily at the café in the classy car she’d borrowed from Austin, to making sure it wasn’t too late after dinner. And yet, here they were, surrounded by cars and honking people because traffic was a fickle bitch.

“Is that why we’re taking this trip?” she asks, wide-eyed.

Sue extends a hand towards her, ruffles up her hair, feeling fond. Trust her idiot girlfriend to not have figured it out yet. She moves her hand to Emily’s cheek, and feels Emily cover it with her own. Feels a soft kiss pressed against her palm.

“What did you think it was, dumdum?”

“Well, it is the three month anniversary of—” Sue’s alarm is probably showing on her face, so she backtracks quickly. “Kidding. Kidding. There’s nothing tomorrow.”

Sue pinches at her cheek. “Except your birthday. Speaking of which—”

“Eh,” Emily shakes her head, shuffles around on her seat awkwardly, “it’s.... uh, complicated.”

“Is the complication that you happen to share a birthday with a poet from long ago?” she’s only half-joking.

Emily laughs at that. “Caught on, did you? Did you also check—”

“E-yup.”

“That your birthday is also—”

“E-yup,” she says. Then turns to look at Emily. “Wait. How do you know when my birthday is?”

Emily opens her mouth, but before she can say anything Sue hurriedly cuts in. “And you’re not allowed to say you have your ways.”

Years ago, when Sue was fourteen, one day her dad and her mom came home with the same vegetable. Same quantity. It was beans, and she could vividly remember all three of them staring down in mock dismay at the two separate huge bundles of beans that now took up most of the space on the table. Then they started comparing prices. Turns out her mother’s bundle had cost a couple cents lesser than her father’s. But it’s not the same , her mother had insisted, holding up both the bundles. See, yours weighs more. I think the grocer I bought it from took some off .

To this day, she defines love as the way her mother’s hand fell over his, combined with the way her dad looked at her next — like a child who had just been told that the blanket fort he’d spent hours constructing, wasn’t going to be torn down. Like someone had just handed a piece of the world to him, and told him to make of it whatever he wanted.

Sue recognizes it in the way Emily looks at her. Like she’s saying — Of course. Of course, you know me well enough to guess the next stupid thing that comes out of her mouth.

(She’s not very good at love, but she hopes Emily can read the answer in her eyes just the same)

“Birthdays are complicated,” Emily says, slowly. “I’ve had some very good ones and then some very bad ones.” First girlfriend who she asked out on her 20th birthday, and second girlfriend who she broke up with a week before her 23rd; Sue fills in the blanks as she talks. “So I guess I try not to tell people so I myself don’t expect anything out of it. Neutral birthdays are better than euphoric ones or sad ones, because at least they don’t haunt me forever.”

“Baby,” she says, and then trails off. Sometimes she likes calling Emily endearments, or just say her name out loud, randomly, even if there’s no statement attached to it. The sentiment’s always the same, however. I’m glad you exist. I’m glad you found me. I like your name. I love you.

(Emily’s fallen asleep by the time she’s driven to the top of the grassy knoll, by the time the clock hits midnight. Sue lets her sleep through it. There will be time to sit on top of the blanket and watch a sleepy Emily blow out the candles on a tiny cake that looks like a typewriter, to stare at the stars all night long while they listen to soft, slow songs on a pair of shared earphones. For now, Sue watches Emily sleep, head tilted against the glass and decides to hold off on telling her she loves her until the day after her birthday. It’s a perfectly neutral birthday. No use in spoiling it.)

(Emily says it back though, in case anyone was wondering)

*****

Sometimes, when Sue sees Emily cooking for her, she loses her breath.

(And sometimes, it’s not even due to the smoke from a burned dish)

But there’s something peaceful about watching Emily cook, especially if she hasn’t yet cottoned onto the fact that Sue’s watching her. She’s one of those annoying people who always has their headphones on, so most of her cooking in the kitchen involves perfectly timing the beats with the swipes of her spatula. Sometimes she spins around in the middle of a pancake flip to see if she can catch it in midair. Juvenile shenanigans aside, what really gets Sue, even after almost a year of having watched Emily dance around in the kitchen is the care with which she handles food that they will eat. It’s so different to the kind of food she cooks when she’s just cooking for herself. Sue’s seen her slap on two days expired cheese on top of a tortilla and call it lunch. And yet.

And yet. Sue will have the best of things. Lasagna that’s still steaming. A sandwich filled with the most delicious ingredients. Waffles topped with cream that Emily will get up early in the morning to get for her. Food enhanced with care, made better with love.

Why don’t you make those nice things for yourself, she’s asked on multiple occasions, to which Emily’s always shrugged. It’s just me. I can have almost anything.

(Emily deserves the best. Sue will make sure she has it)

There are flowers on the table, an assortment of daffodils and lilies arranged on a vase. Right in between two shiny plates laid out with napkins folded carefully beside them. Sue slides into one of the chairs quietly, rests her elbows on the table and waits for Emily to finally turn around.

There is a panicked scream when she does. Sue doesn’t want to be that girlfriend, but this is definitely going on the list of stories she’ll tell their future kids when they’ve grown.

(Another day she would worry about how the term — Their kids — moves around in her chest comfortably like a sip of hot cocoa. Today, exactly one year to the day Emily told her she liked her, she shrugs it off)

“You weren’t supposed to wake up for another half an hour at least.”

Sue hums. “You did tire me out last night, that is true.”

“Sue!” Emily says, scandalized, face rapidly turning red. “I — that’s highly — okay wait, first things first....”

She walks over to the table, and bends to kiss Sue.

“Happy anniversary.”

Sue closes her eyes, kisses both her cheeks in response. “Happy anniversary, my love.”

Emily grins back, then stands again. “Either way,” she says, as she ladles soup onto a bowl, and gathers multiple plates on a tray to subsequently bring to the table, “brunch! Courtesy of your beautiful girlfriend who finally managed to figure out how to make the perfect chicken pot pie without burning down the house, or worse, giving you salmonella.”

Sue inspects what lies in front of her. “Babe, this looks amazing.”

Emily looks proud, as she sits on the other chair. “And that’s not all, okay? This is just the start. Today evening I have gotten us both tickets to—”

“Move in with me.”

When Emily blinks, Sue startles. The words that had just come out of her mouth definitely weren’t well-thought-out, but now she was thinking about it and it seemed like all she ever wanted in life. To go to sleep with Emily, and wake her up in time for her morning classes, to be able to see her all the time, and not have to watch her go.

“That wasn’t my gift, by the way,” she adds, speaking fast, thinking of the limited-edition original copies of a book she’d driven five hours to the next town to get. “But it’s what I want. Us. Living together. I love you. We should.... uh, live together so — uh, okay Emily make me stop talking please.”

Emily shuts her up with a kiss. When they separate, she stays close to Sue, looking right into her eyes with that soft, soft expression.

“Are you sure?” she asks.

Sue takes in a deep breath. Nods. “Yeah.”

Emily considers that for a moment. Then says with a teasing smile — “I thought this violated your relationship rules.”

“What ae you—”

“No kissing before the second date. No celebrating six-month anniversaries because that’s for dummies. No moving in before at least two years of dating—”

“And if you remember correctly,” Sue cuts in, smoothly, “I kissed you two days before our first date. And serenaded you with a Taylor Swift song at the café on our six-month anniversary.”

“You did do that,” Emily says, quietly.

“And as long as we’re on the subject, I hate staying up past 11, or listening to sad girl music in the car, or watching that horrendous show about those two annoying men fake-dating,” Sue tells her, “but — it is my greatest honor that I get to do that for you. And with you. Emily, if you haven’t figured it out already, you’re kinda the exception to every single one of my rules.”

Sue reads Emily’s answer in the kiss she receives next.

*****

The middle, the middle, everything boils down to the middle. It’s what Sue sometimes hears Emily muttering to herself in the middle of the night when she has an assignment due the next day. Sue will blink, look over to the desk where Emily is planted with her nightlight on, hands in her hair. Sometimes Sue will keep blinking slowly, taking in the sight of Emily typing until she falls asleep. Sometimes Emily will notice that she’s up, walk over to the bed, and hum snippets of songs until she’s drifting off again.

And for all the beauty of the beginning, of first kisses and first dates and first times, there’s something to be said about the fifteenth time Emily plays her something on the ukulele, warning her beforehand that her voice might crack. Or the sixtieth burger she runs across the campus to hand over to Emily when she knows she’s got back-to-back classes scheduled. About the hundredth time she falls into bed, and scooches over, eyes closed, until Emily’s wriggling body is aligned against hers. There’s peace in knowing that a first time will inevitably lead to a second time, and then countless others.

(There’s peace in knowing the middle lasts the longest)

*****

She knows she’s in trouble. Has known she’s in trouble the minute she came out of the store and discovered that there was a pileup on the highway. And then when Lavinia called her panicking because their house-warming slash house party was getting out of control because of a lack of beer and a general overabundance of Austin. And then when her phone died in the middle of her conversation with Emily.

(So much trouble)

She’s exhausted by the time she makes it back to her apartment (their apartment , she corrects herself, smiling at the thought) and makes her way up the stairs, hearing the volume of the music increase with every step. Opens the door and is assailed with extremes — the tiny sparkling mirror ball someone’s managed to hook up to the ceiling, the dancing crowd in their living room, and a very loud and weirdly on-point Austin making guitar noises on the karaoke microphone.

“Lavinia!” Sue calls out in relief, when she catches sight of her. “Where’s Emily?”

Lavinia excuses herself from a group of frat boys hanging onto her every word and walks over. “Sue! Emily!”

“Yeah, I know! Tell me where she is!”

Sue points towards the ceiling, and in the same smooth motion, grabs the crate of beer from her hands.

Sue’s out of there before the first cry of “Beer” permeates the air. She climbs another two floors, and then the metallic ladder to find Emily sitting there, wrapped in her blanket, glaring up at her.

“You promised,” she says, flatly.

Sue drops onto her knees and takes Emily’s cold hands in hers. “I know.”

“No, you,” Emily repeats, then pauses, looking like she’s struggling, “you promised you were gonna be here, okay? I agreed to the housewarming thing only because you told me there wouldn’t be many people and you’d stay with me the whole time—”

“—baby....”

“No, don’t baby me. Let me finish.” Emily waits until Sue nods. “And then you went off to the store.”

“We ran out of beer,” Sue says, feeling sheepish.

“I know — I know that, okay?” Emily says. “I know there’s a reason, and probably a valid one but I’m mad, okay? You promised me something and then bailed. That’s not cool.”

Sue adjusts so she’s properly sitting down right in front of Emily. “I’m sorry,” she says, and means it. “It was inexcusable.”

Emily sighs, and seems to relax a little. “Okay. Thank you for saying that.”

Sue nods. “Some party, huh?” she says, after a while.

Emily smiles a little, then. “Did you see Austin? He was performing the High School Musical songs when I left.”

She laughs. “When I came in, I think he was doing the guitar riff to Bohemian Rhapsody.”

“Hey,” Emily says, after they’re done giggling at that. “I never asked. What took you so long? I thought you just went to get beer.”

“Uh,” Sue says, “I’d rather not tell you.”

“What? Why not?”

“Because I don’t wanna charm my way out of you being mad at me.”

“Oh,” Emily draws the sound out, teasingly. “It can’t possibly be that charming.”

If she wanted to play it this way, then okay.

“I stopped at an animal shelter on the way home. There’s a young cat there I thought we could adopt. Consider her a housewarming present.”

“Oh,” Emily says, then in an undertone. “Damn it.”

“Charmed?”

“Ugh, fuck, okay,” Emily admits, then pulls at their joined hands till Sue gets on top of her lap. “I hate you. I love you, but I hate you.”

Sue kisses her in return, settles in more comfortably.

“Tell me about her?” Emily asks, softly, in the quiet.

“Well, she chased the light reflected off my watch round and round so it’s safe to say she’s not the brightest.”

“I love her already,” Emily assures her.

*****

On her eve of her 25th birthday, Sue walks into her apartment and finds Emily, Lavinia and Austin panicking over how to fit the last half of her last name onto limited space on a handmade banner. She says hi to Juggers and Iguana, their two cats, then picks up their two-month-old puppy Rooney, all before one of the three already present humans in the room realizes she’s there.

“Sue, I’m so sorry,” Emily says, walking over to her and looking at her with a slightly desperate look in her eyes. “We tried baking cake, but it’s half burnt, but we can’t decide what to get and all we have are balloons but then Austin’s going crazy trying to keep Juggers from bursting them, because guess what? The cat is the devil—”

“—babe—”

“—no, I tried to make it a good birthday, I really did!”

She puts her hands on either side of Emily’s face, which forces her to quiet down. Then she looks over at the others.

“Have you guys been here the entire time I was taking classes?”

They nod.

She feels a little overwhelmed. “Guys, I — thank you so much,” she says, then takes stock of the situation. “Can you order pizza? We’ll ring in my birthday with pizza tonight.”

Lavinia side-hugs her on their way out to the couch, and then they’re alone in the kitchen. She kisses Emily on the forehead, then on both cheeks, trying to drive away the frown.

“What?”

“I just wanted you to have a good birthday,” Emily says, despondent.

“You’re here, aren’t you?” Sue says. “And so are our friends, who sat and worked this hard for hours trying to make me happy. And we’ll have pizza! We like pizza.”

“You’re just saying that.”

“No, you idiot” Sue explains, fondly. “I mean it. We’ll have burned cake, and we’ll fight over the pizza, and even if the animals are outnumbered, we’ll probably lose to them. And then we’ll probably watch a movie, and somehow all fall asleep on the carpet because Austin always claims the whole couch. Either way, it’ll be a good birthday, because I’m happy. And you know why I’m happy?”

Emily’s still pouting.

“Emily, why am I happy?”

“Because we’re together,” Emily completes, in a small voice, and then finally, finally smiles.

(It’s the messiest birthday Sue has ever had. Also the best)

*****

Here’s the thing about endings: everyone who writes stories knows they don’t really exist.

A famous author once said that they weren’t really the end of the story, just where you chose to stop it. Well, Sue agrees. Which is why this story in her head never ends. The imaginary typewriter in her head will keep typing long after, filling pages with anniversaries and birthdays and emergency dog adoptions. Maybe the next page talks about the day Sue breaks her arm, and Emily proposes to her with an onion ring she gets out of the hospital vending machine. Or the day Lavinia loses Rooney, walks around the entire block with Austin to find him and finally discovers he’s hanging out at the old café they used to work at.

So. Yes. This is where she decides to leave it. Finish it. There will be more stories to write later.

The end.

(Wink wink. Nudge nudge.)

#dickinson #emisue #fanfiction #emily dickinson #dickinson fanfiction #alright - so this is a modern emisue domestic fic about them being happy and in love or whatever bullshit people in love do #and technically it's a sequel to my first dickinson fic - although i don't thikn it's necessary to read that first to understand this #i've been working on this a while - so i hope you guys like it #also i made anohter playlist to vibe - think i'll put it in a reblog just in case anyone wants to check that out #and yeah #that's it i guess #happy reading!

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uncertaininnit · 3 years

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Clingy duo headcanons for my dear anon Stella and also for me and my sanity and everyone else who wants them. P sure like none of these are completely original but like. I put my own brain into this. (Also I am listening to my huge amalgamation playlist of like every song I’ve likes since like 6th grade on shuffle so the tone of this may or my not be all over the fucking place) It’s important to remember I’m not a writer and so this is gonna sound awkward as FUCK. So.

My VERY FAVORITE Clingy duo headcanon to ever exist is the idea that they are very physical in their affection. Sometimes it just bubbles up in my mind randomly and I just grin stupidly. So here’s this.

(HOLY FUCK WHY AM I SO BAD AT DIALOUGE. GOOD STORIES HAVE DIOLOUGE AND I HUST FUCKING CANT)

I think maybe Tommy and Tubbo had met before this time?But idk so lets pretend not k-

(irl headcanon) When Tommy and Tubbo met for the first time, the hugged. Just a long hug. It was nice. They had known each other for YEARS, and were finally meeting in person. It was weird, seeing each other in person. Very awkward at first. But then Tubbo smiled his smile, the smile of Tommy’s best friend/ Tommy is put at ease, and practically lifted Tubbo up when he enveloped him in a hug.

(Jesus fuck, am I not a good writer this is so awkward um anyways)

Before Tommy asked Tubbo if he could stream on his computer, “for the vlog!”, they just talked. Tommy met Teagan and Lani, which was slightly awkward, and Tubbo ushered him into his room. They talked. Just about anything they would talk about normally. It was still weird at first, but as they slipped into the rhythm of their normal conversations, it felt the same. They were the same people.

(What even happened to physical affection lmao its harder to write it into irl ill do more when i say my shit for dsmp!clingyduo)

After Tommy kicked Tubbo’s PC and accidentally fucked up his stream, he felt terrible. He didn’t mean to fucking KICK Tubbo’s computer! He hadn’t wanted to make his first impression on Tubbo’s parents ‘the kid who broke their kid’s computer’! But the computer was fine. Tommy kept apologizing while they were trying to get it to turn on, worried about what Tubbo would think of him.

But of course, Tubbo is very very nice and forgiving and understanding. He put his hand on Tommy’s shoulder.

“Hey- Tommy,” he said, snapping Tommy out of his panicked spiral. “It’s fine! Why don’t we go to the beach or something? For the content?” He adds, nudging Tommy with a grin on his face. Tommy lets a relieved smile spread across his face as he grabs his phone, “Sure, big man.”

damn. that was bad. i cant write dialouge for the life of me. isnt this supposed to be headcanons? why dont i just write them like, i dunno, headcanons? anyway. dsmp time. maybe there wi;; actually be physical affection involved??? i really meant to write in shit i wanted but it didnt make sense like narrative wise

i dunno what the family dynamic is going to be? so i’ll vary. also cant fucking do bullet points on browser. fucking tumblr. anyways

the idea that tommy just found tubbo. playing in the park, in a box by the side of the road, chasing bees in a feild. he saw him and went ‘that boy looks like someone i want to go through EVERYTHING with. i want him.’ and just takes him as his own.

they are like 6 or something because baby duo awwwwwwe

“THIS BOY,” he grabs the boy in question’s hand, “IS WITH ME NOW.” He turns to beam at him and introduces himself. “HI! I’m Tommy!” Without missing a beat, the other boy introduces himself right back. “Hello! I’m Tubbo!”

He appeared to accept his fate as Tommy’s new best friend as he unlaced their fingers and went back to chasing around the bees. (I guess I took the idea of a field and ran w/ it lmao) Tommy furrowed his brow, trying to figure out why Tubbo wasn’t scared. Wilbur taught him to never provoke the bees, they could hurt him if he wasn’t careful. Normally he’s happy to jump into danger but he always listens to Wilbur when he’s serious. (hahahhaha sneaked some v sweet big bro wilbur into this)

“TUBBO?” Tommy yelled, “What are you doing?”

Tubbo ran back over, smiling. “Playing with the bees! I love bees.”

“But... can’t they sting you, with they asses? Aren’t you worried?”

Tubbo smiled, grabbing Tommy’s hand again. “They never sting me!” He giggled, dragging Tommy through the field. “Come on!”

Despite his former skepticism, Tommy lightened up and ran with Tubbo, as Wilbur, who had been giving slight supervision, grew worried. Eventually he was satisfied and got back to his book.

Tommy and Tubbo finally ran out of breath and tried to catch breaths through their fits of giggles. Tommy released Tubbo’s hand and INSATANTLY got stung by a bee. FUCK WAIT IN SATAN LY I FUCKING CANT SHDGJDBSBGD anyway

INSATANLYSHGF

As soon as Tommy released Tubbo’s hand a bee landed on him and just drove that pointed ass into his arm. “WHAT THE FUCK?!?????!?!?!???!?!!!?!??!?!” He yelled before bursting into tears.

Wilbur, suddenly alert as fuck, sprints over with his long-ass legs and bends down to comfort Tommy, only to find him buried in the arms of another little boy. The one he had been running with a minute ago. Tommy sobbed into the boy’s shirt and yelled, “WHAT THE FUCK! I THOUGHT YOU SAID THEY WOULDN’T STING!”

“I said they never stung ME before. I don’t know why they stung you. Does it hurt that badly?” Tubbo replied as Tommy hugged him tighter.

(the pov really said ---------------^^^^^^^^^^^^^--------, the ^ being a weird-ass change. we didnt need a singular paragraph from wilbur’s pov but oh well)

Wilbur kneeled down, “Oh come on, Tommy. It doesn’t hurt that bad. You’re just a fucking dramatic little bitch. Come on.” Wilbur grinned out an apology to Tubbo as he reached out to grab Tommy to try and get him home and composed.

Tommy ducked away, holding on to Tubbo tightly, and Tubbo giggled again and smiled up at Wilbur. “Can I come?”

“YEAH!” Tommy jumped up in excitement, “I WANT TUBBO TO COME WITH ME!”

Wilbur looked around, not seeing anyone who appeared to be in charge of Tubbo. It looked like he wasn’t going to be able to get Tommy to budge without bringing Tubbo along. He sighed.

Tommy and Tubbo linked arms and sang and they walked home. Tommy forgot almost instantly that he was ever stung, much to Wilbur’s annoyance.

adbhvejw they are so sweet. glad i figured out to write link halfway through. maybe its easier to write babyinnit and babybo. idk. anyway sorry this took so FUCKING long and here it is

#its so hard to write fluff when apex predator suddenly comes in #on*#may or may not be keeping a log of my music experience in the tags lmaooo #your sister was right... damn #WHAT A SWITCH LMAOOOO #ohh choke #good good song #still much angst #i dont really have many fluffy songs on this playlist #do i #i do not lmao #its either musical or fnaf or something else #idk man #to smile while you suffocate and die~#dude #right hand manhjfkds #man this sing used to be my favorite in hamilton #its still good #WHY DO I USE THE WORD AWKWARD SO MUCHHSDGFH #INCOMINGGGG #dude that like... noise #after the word incoming #that used to be the ONLY reason right hand man was my favorite #its just such a good fucking little noise #though the rest of the song is still pog as fuck #how th FUCK do you spell rythm #im gonna look it up #rhythm fucking unnessicary h #fucking h goddamn it #fucking newsies overture

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sunmoonturtleduck · 3 years

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Hello! For the fandom meme questions: D, I, O and Z ... i'm curious 👀

Hi! Thank you for the ask!

D - A pairing you wish you liked but just can’t

I really wanted to like M/aiko! I knew they were going to be endgame before I started watching Book 3, and I was interested to see how their relationship played out. I thought maybe they would start off as enemies, then get closer, and then break free from Azula and Ozai together—like a double redemption arc. But instead they got together off-screen (never a good writing choice if you want the couple to be endgame) and their very first scene together has M/ai shooting down Zuko’s attempts to confide in her. I was still willing to give it a chance after that, but the M/aiko scenes that came later were…not that much better.

O - Choose a song at random, which ship or character does it remind you of

I shuffled my Spotify playlist randomly and got “Stuck on You” by Meiko. That song is sweet and cheerful, and I can see it working for either Taang or Mailee.

Z - Just ramble about something fan-related, go go go

Oh my gosh, there’s so many topics to choose from.

I guess I’ll talk about the stigma surrounding fanart/fanfiction. A lot of people seem to think that making fan content is something to be embarrassed about or that fanfiction is inherently “worse” than original fiction. But I don’t think people realize just how common fanfiction is or how many times they’ve consumed fanfiction without even realizing it. Anyone who’s read a James Bond book that was written after Ian Fleming’s death, or watched an adaptation of Frankenstein, or kept up with the 2005 Doctor Who revival, has consumed fanfiction. Did you like Pride and Prejudice and Zombies? Congrats, that’s fanfiction too. Fanworks are everywhere. Artists are constantly borrowing characters and concepts from previous works and adapting them to fit their personal taste. That’s the way it’s always been, the examples I listed are just recent ones. So it bothers me when people discredit the hard work fan creators do for free as if it’s this weird, shameful thing, when in fact wanting to add your own voice to your favorite stories is an intrinsic part of the human experience.

Ask me about fandom stuff!

#anti maiko #just in case #thanks again for the ask!#these were fun to answer #asks #twerkforpizza

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thebakunawa · 3 years

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Stars must not fall

Hewwo!! So this is my first work for this fandom and I haven’t written anything non academic for years so please bare with me but I wrote this in honor of the wonderful game @ataleofcrowns for the prompt ‘like a star falling you drop without warning’.

also special thanks to @strawbebyjam who deals with me asking if I wrote well and edited this

The Crown must be perfect.

Every action is measured and evaluated. Nothing is above scrutiny. The people around the Crown may treat the Crown as a friend, but they will never be scrutinised the way everyone will the Crown. Eyes will always look up at the Crown, so the Crown must not falter, must not be weak.

But she’s only human.

Maharlika feels it, the way eyes are drawn to her presence as soon as she enters. It doesn’t matter if she simply passes by or she has wandered in unintentionally. The moment she enters all eyes are on her, the weight of their expectations doubling down on her mercilessly.

Expectation shackles her from wrist to wrist, with weighted bracelets made of gold, while the hopes of the people tighten her robes and she wonders how she has not choked.

When she was younger she had dreamed of becoming the Crown. Living a life where she could do what she wanted and lived somewhere without constantly running. Now, now she feels the strains under the shackles of their beliefs and needs. How their hope seems to bind her to the throne, carrying the weight of a promise she doesn’t know if she can uphold.

Day in and out, the idea of being the Crown torments her ceaselessly. Dreams once of ash and blood now add faces of people staring up at her with desperation and adoration she feels she does not deserve.

In the rare moments she’s alone when her thoughts don’t crash into each other, she hears the whisper of a few faint melodies from her memories. The quietest of whispers that slip from her fingers when she tries to reach out and grasp them.

What little she does remember, are the towns full of vibrant life, noises she could only hear and never be a part of. The symphony of life in a place where people could always come back to and call it home.

Rising above the noise of the towns were the sweetest voices she’d ever hear. It doesn’t matter where she’s gone but she remembers hearing voices that float above the din. Their voices full of strength and love, or perhaps sorrow if they sing ballads.

In her memories street performers shine with enough magic and power they rivaled the sun. Her mouth agape whenever they’d sing a song.

“More!” The crowd would roar. “More!”

So the performers gave more. Their voices somehow rising above the voices of the people. She can’t remember most songs, not even the slightest sliver in her memories. Except for one, a small melody she hums without meaning to. The origin of the song long gone but it leaves the melody as a small ember in her mind.

Crowns are like stars, they should not fall.

She remembers reading a page from a book “gods do not fall gracefully,” it said. Maharlika wonders if Crowns when they fall, fall gracefully. If she fell, would she?

Her dreams are marred by nightmares. Of fire and ash, of the blood on her hands, of the corpses of her parents and of the people she had passed to get here. It chokes her, filling her throat with the same acrid smell of burnt bodies and flesh—she’s left gasping for cold air.

Even when she wakes she tastes it at the back of her mouth. The fear and the smell lingering beyond, knowing that if she closes them for a moment they’ll all come flooding back in. Not wanting to alert anyone, she slips out of her room, barefoot, into halls illuminated by the moonlight that fills from the windows, and walks desperate to put as much space as she can away from the confines of her room.

She makes sure her footsteps are quiet, and her breathing slows as not to get caught, though her steps are more rapid at every breath. The layout of the palace is still confusing but she’s determined to learn. Her gait is quick and she doesn’t dare turn around, afraid to see her nightmares manifest, almost hearing them snap at her heels as she almost runs down the hall.

“Who are you?” The voices from her nightmares whispers. “Who do you think you are?”

Her heart thunders in her ears and she doesn’t realize her breath has picked up or her legs started aching.

“Who are you to think that you can hold your head up higher than your fellow men?”

Fire burns under her feet, the heat scorching her soles and the walls suddenly seem alight with red flames. Licking at the edges of her vision and she makes a beeline to a set of doors, desperate to escape.

----------------------------------------------

Rozerîn wakes up with a start.

Unease rolls in her stomach and what little hope of sleep she has disappears. The air feels different, buzzing with energy she couldn’t place. It moves anxious and terrified, lingering just at the edges of her senses so she can’t tell what it is.

Or who it is.

Pressing against the space, agitated, Rozerîn realizes that the spirits are restless. Pushing and pulling like the tide, their ebb and flow a reflection of the current state of the person they’re attached to.

In this case, the Crown.

The realization makes Rozerîn grab a night robe to wrap around her before she leaves her room. Once secured she steps out, peering into the hall, Maharlika’s name resting at the tip of her tongue.

Moonlight pours in through the windows of the hall, bathing everything in a silver glow. By all appearances, the hall was unchanged. Yet Rozerîn feels the tingle of magic in the air and just out of earshot hears the lingering voices too faint to properly make out.

She strains to hear them, to glean anything from the spirits. But they were too far from her reach, pulling away when she almost brushes against them. Cold sweat builds up at her back and she wonders if she should wake Ashti and look for the guard.

Yet something tells her not to.

It’s a small niggling voice at the back of her head, barely above the whispers, so she decides to simply follow the source of the disturbance. Following the blasts of heat and cold that seem to randomly emanate from the halls.

The closer she gets the thicker the magic feels. Like a storm about to come, the hair on her arms rise and as she pushes open a set of double doors, she finds Maharlika sitting by the fountain, her back facing the the doors as she looks into the water.

“Maharlika?” Rozerîn calls out hesitantly, watching as the water in the fountain shudders. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” Maharlika replies, her voice rough and she doesn’t turn to address Rozerîn. “What are you doing here?”

Rozerîn shuffles in her spot, wrapping the robe a little tighter. “I was out for a walk,” she explains. “I woke up and couldn’t sleep,”

“Ah.”

Silence descends between the 2 of them and Rozerîn after a while walks a little closer, taking a few steps at a time. Gauging from the spirits, they seem a little calmer now, and the fountain (thankfully) no longer violently shaking.

“Why are you up?” Rozerîn decides to press. “Are you well?”

Maharlika stiffens, and Rozerîn is ready to apologize but the words die in her throat when Maharlika finally turns to look at her.

“No,” the admission is pained, a whisper of the word that Rozerîn would have missed if she hadn’t seen Maharlika’s mouth move. “I am not.”

“Talk to me?” She asks, stepping as close as she dares, hands reaching out to hold Maharlika’s balled up fists. For a moment Rozerîn wonders if she had overstepped her bounds but Maharlika reaches out to hold her hands in return.

Rough, calloused, Rozerîn remembers the feeling of bark when she holds Maharlika’s shaking hands on her own. It was comforting, holding hands that make her own small. Despite the trembling and the cold, Rozerîn feels safe, hoping she would feel safe as well.

“Maybe.” Maharlika speaks up and Rozerîn looks up to see Maharlika chew her lower lip--a quirk she will remember to look for when she’s in distress--before sighing. “Walk with me?”

“Of course,” Rozerîn smiles warmly. Her hands still holding onto Maharlika’s, feeling the rough palms above her own slightly calloused finger tips. “I can show you the gardens,”

The corners of Maharlika’s lips curl upward slightly at her suggestion. “I’d love that,”

“Then, my Crown, follow me,” Rozerîn says and as soon as the title leaves her lips she sees Maharlika wince.

Ah.

Her expression must have been obvious because Maharlika turns away, looking to her right, unwilling to meet Rozerîn’s.

“My apologies, I didn’t realize…” Rozerîn says and holds onto the hands a little tighter. “Perhaps we could stay here instead?”

“Yes...I’d like that more,” Rozerîn feels a small sense of loss when Maharlika pulls her hands away from hers and instead focuses on following the Crown to one of the stone benches on the side.

A heartbeat passes between them, that stretches out to a minute, to a few more. Rozerîn feels the tension ebb away but it’s replaced by something else. Something that moves in the undercurrents, a deep ache that has long lingered.

She considers speaking when Maharlika breaks the silence instead. Shifting a little to face her when she does. “Do you think I’d fall gracefully?”

A joke weasels its way to the forefront of Rozerîn’s mind but the situation at hand doesn’t call for it. Perhaps if she had Xelera’s audacity she might have made it.

“Fall gracefully? What do you mean by it?”

Maharlika hums, contemplating her eyes distant for a while before she meets Rozerîn’s gaze. “If I failed to be good enough, what would happen?”

The ache in her voice and the worry tugs at Rozerîn’s heart. She remembers looking at Lady Zerya with the same pleading eyes, the desperation to cling onto someone for reassurance.

“As long as I am here, I will do my best to make sure you do not fall or stumble.” Rozerîn promises. “Not while I’m here.”

“It feels like I’ve failed already,” Maharlika admits. “It feels as if I’ve failed to be the Crown,”

“There is no Crown born perfect, no one can ever be ready to be the Crown. That’s why we have your tutors, your mentors, the perfect Crown does not fall from the sky,” Rozerîn replies, her hands letting go of Maharlika’s as she does. “Well--except for you. You came to us quite unexpected and when we needed you the most.” She smiles trying to reassure her.

For a moment she wonders if she had overstepped. But the smile Maharlika manages, chases those worries away. “Thank you, Rozerîn,” she says and this time it is she, who reaches out to take Rozerîn’s hand in her own.

Suddenly everything feels so warm, and Rozerîn looks away with a shy smile, before looking down to see Maharlika squeeze and play with her fingers.

“You’ve got really pretty hands,” Maharlika murmurs absentmindedly. “They’re nice to hold,”

Rozerîn laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. “Maharlika, please!”

“It’s true!” Maharlika says and whatever seemed to plague her had disappeared completely from her mind, “I like holding them...I’d hold it forever if I could,”

Forever.

The idea of forever with Rozerîn makes her heart squeeze and Maharlika could see it. Stretching hours of fleeting eternity between them when they have the time. Stolen moments when work does not call to them.

The Crown must be perfect.

But it never said that the Crown can not fall in love. If Crowns are like stars, then she willingly falls, unexpectedly into the unknown if it means going back to Rozerîn, to home.

“Well—in that case...Maharlika—I...well maybe! If you desire that!” Rozerîn stops in her tracks when the implication of what Maharlika said sinks in.

Maharlika laughs, a deep joyful sound and Rozerîn is torn between hugging her and simply wishing for the spirits to take her away from here.

“I mean, I do desire that~” Maharlika purrs pulling Rozerîn’s hand to her mouth and gives her a kiss, without breaking eye contact.

Words seem to fail her in that moment and Rozerîn doesn’t know what exactly to do. Her heart feels like it’s about to hammer out of her chest with the way it thunders.

“But...genuinely, thank you.” Maharlika gives her hand one last squeeze before letting go. “You...you mean a lot to me, Rozerîn. I hope you know that,”

Rozerîn smiles, the most genuine smile she can muster in this moment and with no hesitation replies.

“I know.”

I care for you too

#a tale of crowns #ataleofcrowns #r romance #r route #please #i'm gay for her #i honestly don't know #if i followed the prompt to a tee because I just went loosely on what i felt and suddenly lost sight of everything #but that's just me #fluff #lots of fluff #and maharlika #maharlika #Rozerîn route #please i'm just uwu

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fantastic-multistan-bxtch · 3 years

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I’m answering all these just to have some info bout me and whatnot. Shoutout to @peachykibum who has a new blog when you click on their account. Thank you for these!!!🎵👏✨😊🤩❤️

Just a heads up next post will be the shit ton of artists I know. & Yes in this I do have a lot of the same artists as answers.

K-Pop Ask Game

What was the first song you heard by your bias group? When did you hear it? : FANTASTIC BABY by BIG BANG. Around my birthday and my moms bday. She was in Cali at the time getting medical help. I was on the phone reacting to her reaction while she watched the music video. Was thought to be a phase but that doesn’t mean she wouldn’t be apart of it for me. RIP Mama and 9 years later here I am so NOT a phase lmao💜💔.

List your top 5 favorite k-pop groups. : SHINee, BIG BANG, f(x), 2NE1 & SUPER JUNIOR. From the beginning💙🖤💜💖💚

Who is your ultimate bias and why? : I gotta say G-DRAGON the Kwon Jiyong. The Peace Minus One man himself. Runner Ups are Jay Park, Key, & CL, etc it’s hard.

Has a k-pop song or music video ever made you cry? : Yes. Can’t remember a music video, but Peter Pan by EXO, Baby Don’t Cry by Daesung. Idk what else.

Name your top 10 favorite k-pop albums. : ALIVE-BIG BANG, MADE-BIG BANG, Pink Tape-f(x), DREAM GIRL: The Misconceptions of You-SHINee, DARK & WILD-BTS, 130 Mood: TRBL-DEAN, COUP D’ÉTAT-GD, RED TAPE-H1GHR COMPLIATION, EVOLUTION-Jay Park, Sexy, Free & Single-Super Junior. (Extra because I have to!!! CRUSH-2NE1)

Who is the funniest idol in your opinion? : Honestly either Key, many in SJ, Jay Park, Amber, BM, Jessi, TOP, idk they are all so funny I can’t remember all of them.

What is your favorite k-pop choreo? : Ohhhh hard one!!!! I mean HyunA Change, Bang Bang Bang by BB, so many from SJ and GG, and I am the best 2NE1, Nunu Nana Jessi; I really CANNOT choose one! And that’s not even all of them! The iconic ones aren’t all here!

Put your playlist on shuffle and list the first 5 songs that play. : What playlist? Kpop playlist? I’m unsure so right now I’m listening to : ‘We Be Wildin’ Jay Park x Yultron feat. HAON~

What is your favorite k-drama that any k-pop idol has played a part in? : The Liar and His Lover!!!! Joy was amazing!!!

What is your favorite OST by a k-pop group/idol? : My Romeo by Jessi for Cinderella and the Four Knights!!

List your top 10 bias wreckers. : Aww shit the people who need to STAY IN THEIR LANE. JK omg lmao. Daesung BIG BANG, Jonghyun SHINee, Kai EXO, June IKON, Jooheon MonstaX, P.O. BLOCK B, Siwon Super Junior, BamBam GOT7, V BTS, FELIX Stray Kids.

What is the oldest group that you stan? : That would be Super Junior.

What is the youngest group you stan? : Stray Kids I’m pretty sure.

Do you have a favorite music video of all time? If so, what? : Omfg. Either Fantastic Baby BB, BANG BANG BANG BB, Everybody SHINee, Ring Ding Dong SHINee, SPY SUPER JUNIOR. Etc I really can’t choose one huh?

What is the most underrated/under-appreciated group you stan? : Honestly I’m not sure at all on this one because I probably don’t know that they are I mean I think I know some but I don’t know who to say.

How long have you been listening to k-pop? : Alrighty here’s the story! I randomly found and watched SHINee’s Ring Ding Dong in 2010 but it wasn’t until PSY went viral in 2012 that I really got into Kpop finding SHINee again and f(x) and BB and SJ and GG and 2NE1 and Jay Park all first etc.

Do you have a favorite k-pop blog? If so, tag them. : I do not sorry!!!

Do you own any k-pop albums? If so, how many? : Sadly no it was thought to be just a phase by my family so I wasn’t ever really allowed to get anything but now I have merch. And hopefully I will be getting a few of my favorites irl at least.

Name the top 5 groups you’d like to see live. : Well I already saw BIG BANG so, if I can’t include soloists here’s my list. KARD, SHINee, BLOCK B, STRAY KIDS, and does H1GHR artists count?

Who is your favorite soloist? : Hahaha easy Jay Park! Runner Ups are no doubt HyunA, DEAN, Amber, CL, ZICO, Lee Hi, Jackson Wang, Jessi, Eric Nam, MINO, Bobby, & Suga. Haha sorry at least I didn’t add them all.

Are there any k-pop songs that you can sing or dance to? If so, which ones? : Heck Yes!!! Sing-🎙Dance-💃🏼: The Promise Jay Park🎙, Hello Bitches CL🎙💃🏼, +5 STAR+ CL🎙, Nalina Block B🎙💃🏼, Gotta Talk to U Seungri😑🎙, La La La BB🎙, Number 1 BB🎙, BIG BANG BB🎙, FXXK IT BB🎙, BANG BANG BANG BB🎙💃🏼, Bonnie & Clyde DEAN🎙, RUNAWAY GD🎙, I am the Best 2ne1 🎙💃🏼, Metronome Jay Park🎙, Missing You 2ne1🎙, Bonamana SJ🎙, Promise You K.R.Y.🎙, This is Love SJ🎙, R.O.D. GD🎙, YOU DO GD🎙, Hitchhiking SHINee🎙, Love Scenario IKON🎙, Oppa Oppa SJ D&E🎙, HyunA Change💃🏼, Electric Shock f(x)💃🏼, NUNU NANA💃🏼, some PSY, SHINee, and other SJ and Jay Park songs.

Is there an idol you’d like to hug? If so, who? : That’s hard af um everyone? But honestly Jay Park, BM, Jessi, Chan, Leeteuk, Amber, GD, Daesung, Leo, Taemin, idk who else. 😅🤗

What groups do you like that have either disbanded or disappeared? : As I’ve listed above even though they have; 2NE1, f(x), JJCC??, Wonder Girls, idk who else.

What idol do you think you have the most in common with? : I know I’ve said all of them for multiple questions but of course I did because they are Kwon Jiyong (GD), Jay Park, Key, Yesung, Amber, Jessi, & that’s it I’m pretty sure.

If you could hang out with any of your biases, who would you pick and why? : WHO??? WHY?? As you can tell that is not a question to ask ME!!! The answer is my answers to numbers 6 and 22 and 24!!!! Ahahaha why? Because those questions answer why pretty much sorry I answer this way my mind is a MESS.

Thank you if you actually read all of this! I really wanna make friends on here for Kpop and etc so it’d be really great! Check out my bio for my main blog!!!

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wrenoxford · 1 year

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