#and i don't understand why shes like that with me none of our common friends understand either and everyone telling me to drop her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cuffmeinblack · 1 year

Note

Idk if you’re taking requests but I have one and I’ve loved you’re writing for Ominis so let’s go!!

⚠️spoilers ahead just in case⚠️

I was wondering if you’d be willing to write an Ominis x fem!hufflepuff! Reader where they’ve liked each other but it all comes out before the Scriptorium mission. Like he tells the story on why he won’t use crucio and everything but when Sebastian uses the curse on her Ominis is the one to rush to her and help her. I just want fluff and love for this boy he needs more of it!!

I trust you to write this amazingly and please make whatever changes you’d like I’d just want this boy to be loved ❤️❤️❤️❤️

Hold me close

Ominis Gaunt x gn!reader

Tags: angst | hurt/comfort | torture curse

1k words

A/n: Thank you for the request! This is a short little one shot rewrite of the In the Shadow of the Study quest so ⚠️SPOILER WARNING⚠️. Hope you like!

Quite how you ended up in Salazar Slytherin's secret Scriptorium with a couple of Slytherin boys was a mystery in itself, almost as baffling as the one presented directly in front of you. You'd left the cosy Hufflepuff common room only an hour ago, and now here you were, staring at a huge, ornate door decorated with serpents. Salazar Slytherin really liked snakes.

"That must be the voice I hear," Ominis says beside you. " I don't believe I'm about to do this."

Your heart flutters in your chest as you watch him approach the door and take a deep breath before speaking, if it could be called that—a quiet hiss escapes his lips. You jump back in astonishment as the mechanism on the door jumps to life, the eerie green glow of the serpents' eyes illuminating the dim corridor.

"Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed," you say, marvelling at him.

"Between the two of you, I'm starting to feel left out," Sebastian says from behind you.

"Between the two of us?" Ominis asks. If it weren't so dark, you'd swear he'd be blushing.

"I…never mind," Sebastian mutters.

You know what your friend means, but you squirm uncomfortably anyway. It's true, you both seem to have rare abilities that others might envy. You make quite the pair, though Sebastian was none the wiser of your mutual affection.

It isn't long before you encounter yet another locked door in this infernal maze. The floor is wet, the room smells dusky and damp, and you quickly notice the reason why. Following the scurrying of a rat in the corner, your illuminated wand shines on a skeleton in the corner of the room. You fight to hold back the bile rising in your throat. A scrap of paper draws your eye, slightly nibbled but still more or less intact, laying next to the long-decayed corpse. You reach down and pick it up with two fingers, your face twisting in disgust as you try to read the scrawled words.

"Ominis...your aunt Noctua…she mentions being trapped here. Blocked by an unforgivable curse," you say shakily.

Your gut twists with guilt, knowing that having agreed to talk to Ominis for Sebastian had doomed you all. You had wanted to help your friend, but you should never have agreed to it, and the pain on Ominis' face is more than you can bear.

"Ominis, I know this is the last thing you want to do…," Sebastian started.

"Yes, it is! I thought you knew me better!" Ominis shouted back.

Your immediate reaction is to go to him. You wish you could hold him, comfort him, instead you move slowly to his side, your hand reaching for his but falling short under Sebastian's watchful eye.

"Ominis," you whisper.

"I won't do it," Ominis says, shaking his head and beginning to pace nervously. "You shouldn't either."

"I understand, but it's our only way out of here. I can take it," you say, trying to keep the quavering from your voice. You muster the courage to reach out and grip his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Are you going to use the curse on Sebastian?" he asks in a small voice.

"I don't think I can."

Ominis grimaces as you leave his side, walking over to Sebastian by the door, steeling yourself for what's to come. You trust your friend not to prolong it longer than necessary. Balling up your fists, you nod and Sebastian readies himself, raising his wand and hesitating only for a second before expelling the dreaded incantation.

"Crucio."

A crackle of electricity ripples through your body and you see only a red haze before forcing your eyes shut and falling to the floor, gasping for breath. Your nerves are on fire, your very flesh feels as if it's burning as you try to scream but nothing comes out.

"Please, please," a faint voice enters your ears as the pain subsides and you open your eyes, staring at the floor as your vision readjusts to the assault on your retinas, the stones beneath you swimming back into focus. You take a deep breath and fill your lungs, desperately reaching out in front of you, clutching the first thing you feel.

You look up and Ominis is kneeling in front of you, holding your arm and feeling his way to find where you are. You start breathing shakily, trying desperately to catch your breath and feel wet, hot tears pooling in your eyes. Ominis' hands are shaking as they glide up your arms, over your shoulders and brushing your neck, finding your face. He cups your face in his hands, pausing as the tears roll over his fingers, then wipes them away gently. His face is contorted in pain as he asks, "Are you okay? Please, be okay."

"I'm okay," you manage to stutter.

Sebastian seems to be in shock, standing dumbly by the now open door, watching the interaction between his friends.

"I'm so sorry," he groans, leaning back against the wall.

"It's fine, you did what you had to do," you say weakly, attempting to get up off of the floor.

Ominis clutches your arms again, firmly, standing with you and steadying you as you wobble on your aching legs and stumble into him. He doesn't loosen his grip, only pulls you closer, looping an arm around your back and holding your weight.

"I've got you," the soft voice says in your ear.

You rest your head against his shoulder, his hand finding its way to the nape of your neck and gently stroking your hair.

"I…there's a room here…," Sebastian says feebly before retreating behind the door.

Ominis doesn't let you go, the shaking in his hands subsided, now replaced with a tender and assuredly comforting touch. You look up at him, his hands still tangled in your hair, and watch his closely knitted brows relax.

"I'm so sorry you had to go through that," he says.

"I'd do it again, for you."

#ominis gaunt fanfiction #ominis gaunt imagine #ominis gaunt drabble #anon ask #ominis gaunt x reader

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 3 months

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AITA for blocking my business partner and our mutual friends?

First of all, I want to establish that I'm not an idiot. I don't think I'm the smartest person in the world, I didn't do very well in school, and I'm generally a bit forgetful. I've been struggling with undiagnosed mental illness and neurodivergency for my entire life. My family growing up was very anti therapy and I've only recently brought anything up to a doctor. However, I like to think I manage myself pretty well. I have my own systems for doing things, and they may be unconventional, but it works. I've come to terms with the fact that no matter what I do, I'm going to have to work a lot harder than the average person and get a lot less credit. That's just how it is. I have two jobs, one of which is at a restaurant, and the other is a business that I started with my friend. It's still fairly small and local, but I'm really proud of how far it's come.

Me and my business partner, we'll call her Shelly, have a group of friends that we hang out with from time to time. I honestly don't like them very much, but Shelly, who has been my best friend for over a decade really enjoys hanging out with them, so though I've expressed to her that I want to start seeing them less, I've stayed friends with them, both to make Shelly happy and to avoid any drama that might be caused.

Among this group of friends is someone we'll call Dianne. Dianne will insult and berate me consistently, and then insist it was a joke. Nobody has ever laughed, and I have told Dianne that I don't find any of it funny. The other members of the friend group (aside from Shelly) said that this is just how she expresses that she likes somebody, and tried to make it seem like playful banter, but the insults are incredibly one-sided (I've never said an ill word about her to any of them, and especially not to her. I'm not rude.) and she never insults anyone but me and sometimes Shelly.

Recently ( a couple months or so ago) she started taking digs at my intelligence, as I have been a few minutes late to a couple of our hangouts, and I have trouble with my left and right. I said explicitly that I don't like it when people treat me like an idiot. I tried to be polite, but I won't stand for that. Also, being late and directions are very common things for people to struggle with, so I don't understand why that insinuates that I'm at all unintelligent. She also may have gotten this idea because I don't tend to laugh at her jokes, which are mostly things like "that's what she said" and other cheap and immature sex jokes. She usually tries to brush off the fact that I don't laugh by saying I must be dumb because I don't get her jokes. I do, they're just not very clever and I clearly have a different sense of humor than her.

I just kept trying to avoid any sort of conflict, because the rest of the group makes Shelly really happy. But then it started to get worse. The whole group seemed to be influenced by these jokes, and stopped expecting me to be able to do anything. I wasn't even the designated driver anymore, even though I'm usually the obvious choice because I don't drink. Dianne told me I'd probably crash because she didn't think I could read street signs. I've driven her home multiple times (during none of which she's been sober enough to remember my driving ability) and I've never driven at all irresponsibly while any of them were in the car. The whole group, aside from Shelly, began making jokes about how I was the resident airhead. For my birthday, Dianne got me a toddler sippy cup, and a card that said "Congrats, you're 2!". Get it. Because I'm so stupid I'm basically a child. Ha ha. So funny I forgot to laugh.

The last straw for me was when Shelly sent me a business email that was like "Are you going to be able to get the books done in time?" and basically told me to make sure I wasn't lazy when it came to keeping track of the sales, even though I've never been late with that kind of stuff. I really care about our business, and I keep track of all of the financials and do our taxes. I don't have a degree or anything, I could never afford college, so I emailed Shelly back very passive-agressively about how if she doesn't think I can do it in time, she can hire a real accountant.

We met with the friendgroup the next day and I was incredibly pissed. Dianne made another dig at me, something about our business probably going under because I'm too incompetent to do anything. I snapped. In the midst of yelling at her, I said "I am not stupid. You don't get to treat me like I am." and she said "But aren't you, though?" and I stormed out. I blocked everyone, except for Shelly.

I texted Shelly and said that she could be friends with whoever she wants, but that I'm never speaking to any of them ever again. Shelly said that I was being overdramatic, and that they're all being awkward to her now because they know that we're such good friends. I apologized for putting her in a position where she felt like she was in the middle, but told her that I was not about to take any more of that treatment. I told her I'm disappointed that after all this time, she let other people dictate the way that she sees me. When her new friends call me stupid, I can let it slide off of my back, but when my best friend of over a decade starts treating me like I'm incompetent and I can't get anything done, that really hurts. She told me that I need to learn to take a joke. I blocked her too after that. We've continued having meetings and being mostly civil, but we haven't spoken outside of that, and all the friendship is gone.

I'm mostly concerned about how this situation is going to affect our business, because I have worked so hard and I'd hate to see it fail because of petty drama and insults. I'm now feeling like I made a huge mistake by blowing up. Should I have just kept quiet to protect my job and friendship?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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george-weasleys-girl · 8 months

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Hiya! Can you write a fic on the twins hosting a Halloween party in the common room for the Griffindors? But Fred (her best friend) is sad as he notices reader isn't there, and he finds her (after using Harry's map) in the clock tower, she tells him she doesn't like parties as they're too overwhelming for her as there's too many people & throws her own personal party in the clock tower. 🎃

A Party for Two

Fred Weasley x fem!reader

Warnings: none

Fred sighed, his eyes searching the common room for any sign of Y/N. He couldn't understand why she wasn't here. Her roommates had arrived without her, saying she'd be along shortly.

That was an hour ago.

He wracked his brain, thinking back over the last couple of weeks. Y/N hadn't given him any indication that she wouldn't be here. Then, he began to wonder if he'd said or did something to upset her. She did seem a little quieter than usual at lunch today, but he'd just wrote it off to stress due to the research paper she'd been working on for potions class.

Where was she?

She wasn't in her dorm room.

Did she fall ill suddenly?

Did she hurt herself somehow?

Should he check the hospital wing?

The older twin weaved his way through the crowd to the one person who could help him find her quickly.

~•~

"Hey there, Y/N."

Y/N turned at the sound of Fred's voice and smiled. "You found me."

Fred held up the Marauders map. "What are you doing up here all alone?" He looked around the clock tower before sitting down beside her. "I kept watching for you at the party."

"Sorry," she sighed. "I really did intend on going. But the closer it got, the more nervous I got about the whole thing. You know I don't do well at parties. Too loud and too many people."

Fred nodded. "I should've remembered that, love. I'm so sorry."

"It's okay," she elbowed him gently. "You know, you should get back, instead of sitting up here coddling me. I'll maybe come down later."

"But, I don't want to leave you up here all by yourself," he argued.

"I'll be fine, Freddie," she coaxed. "I promise. Now go. Shoo." She waved him off.

Fred took one last sad look at her before heading back down.

~•~

Y/N sighed and returned her attention to the clear, starry sky. Her heart hurt at how crestfallen he looked when he left.

I'm a terrible best friend, she thought.

After about twenty minutes of debating with herself, she'd almost decided to go down to the party, if only for a few minutes, when a jack o' lantern floated up the stairs and sat itself down on the ledge.

Followed by another.

And then another.

Then, several candles floated up, with a few orange and black streamers that attached themselves to the wall.

"What the... " Y/N circled around, watching the parade of decorations dancing around her.

It was only then that she heard someone bounding up the stairs, and then Fred's ginger head appeared, a giddy grin gracing his face. He was carrying a small radio and some blankets. Behind him was a second, smaller parade of snacks and drinks.

"I thought since you weren't comfortable coming down to the party," he said, skipping up the last few stairs. "I thought you and I could have our own little party up here."

He laid out the blankets, and the food settled gently down on one of them. "What do you think?"

Y/N blinked back tears, taking in the scene. "I - uh, it's amazing," she stammered. "I really don't deserve you as a best friend."

"What?" Fred blinked in surprise. "Nonsense, you're the bestest best friend I could ask for!" He put his arm around her, pulling her into his side. "If anything, it's me that doesn't deserve you."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but Fred put a finger to her lips. "Nope. No arguing. I'm Fred Weasley, and I'm always right."

She snorted and shook her head, wiping at her eyes, before smiling up at him. "Thank you, Fred."

"Anything for you," he returned her smile. "Now, what shall we do first? Eat or dance?"

"Eat!" She said, diving for the food. "I'm absolutely famished!"

~•~

@milivanili99 @fancy-pantaloons @turvi @zvummyummy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @georgie-weasley @nighttimemoonlover @jsjcue @wzrd-wheezes @fredweasleyyyyy @hufflepuffie @alexistonks @anvaaryn @samshifts @asuperconfusedgirl @superduckmilkshake @mysticsheepsoul @gemofthenight @1lellykins @junerprsh @sierraluvz @wolfkill16 @smallsweetvanillabean @costheticbabe @charmedfandomgal @hanne-montana @rhunew @greenapplegrass @lizzytrees @spididerman @Havenater1920 @jelloangela @whotfskai @netflix-addict @lunacurlclaw

#fred weasley #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x fem!reader #fred weasley x y/n #fred weasley x you #hp fandom #hp universe

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kaylinalexanderbooks · 1 month

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Personality through quote

Thanks to @elsie-writes here and here and @leahnardo-da-veggie here!

Rules: have your OCs respond to a given prompt then give the people you tagged a prompt

Got long, below the cut :)

[A quote about feelings]

Lexi: "I have a lot of feelings...they all are pretty intense. Every emotion is like that for me. When I'm happy, I'm ecstatic, exhilarated. When I'm sad, it's like I'm depressed. I get just a little stressed and my anxiety flares up, and I start crying. It's a lot, honestly."

Maddie: "Feelings are fine and cool, I guess. I like my feelings toward Lexi and Kelsey. Don't really like my feelings toward someone like Brycen. Not sure how I feel for others, though. They like me, which is cool. I dunno. Feelings are super weird."

Ash: "I think I'm starting to understand feelings of others better now that I've discovered my telepathy. It's interesting, seeing how I experience other's emotions. It gets a little metaphorical. Fascinating stuff."

Gwen: "I mean, Lexi was once upset and I was sent to comfort her because I was apparently the most empathetic there. I'd say I'm in touch with my emotions. I get a little too emotional at times. I hold back a lot more than people think, though."

Robbie: "Dude, feelings are kinda dope. Like our brain just feels sad and our chest physically hurts. Doctors can't explain it. [Pause] Okay, both of my parents are doctors and they kinda can, but it's cool regardless."

Akash: "Huh. Well, it's important to feel feelings, and it took me a while to face them. I'm good now, though. I think it's important to face them."

Jedi: [silent for too long] "Well, *rubs back of neck* "I like to...think of myself as someone in touch with his own emotions...."...*nods*

Carmen: "No."

[A quote about their thoughts on NFTs and/or cryptocurrency]

None of these guys would like it but this is a fun prompt!

Lexi: "Isn't crypto a scam? I don't like the idea of that. Just stick to regular money."

Maddie: "NFTs don't make any sense. Just right-click the image. Downloaded."

Ash: "Honestly, I feel like owning an image sounds fun in a silly way, but I'm not that reckless with my money. Would rather spend it on tangible things."

Gwen: "I'm uncomfortable with the idea of people charging you to own an image, fake money or not. I mean, why not make actual art?"

Robbie: "Oh my God did you see the NFT ape movie? Dude, it's so bad. I can't believe there are people this stupid."

Akash: "Not only is it unethical, it literally makes no sense. The money isn't real? Why would you do that? Like, have you looked at the value of crypto?"

Jedi: [intently listening to someone explain crypto and NFTs] "Well, now that is just ridiculous. How in the world do they expect to regulate that?" [A few more minutes of baffled rambling]

Carmen: [also had to have someone explain it to her, but she interrupted more] "Are you kidding me?! Is stupidity a common genetic trait among Ceters?!" [More ranting]

[A quote about remembering the ones they lost]

Well uh I'm not gonna go into any major spoilers so I'm gonna expand the meaning to more than just death.

Um, gradually gets sadder because my first few have not experienced their main trauma yet >:)

Lexi: "Oh, I had so many friends in elementary school! I mean, I still have a lot of friends, but I miss those who went off to different intermediate schools. It's okay, though! I found them on social media, and a couple had phones by fifth grade. I should totally hook up with them again! Thanks for asking!!"

Maddie: "I guess Brycen. He was my friend before he became a jerk. I would like to be friends with him again. Like, then him before he was a jerk."

Ash: "I miss the friendship I had with Shelby. I don't know why, it was literally only for a week or two. But there was...something about her friendship that sucked me in. I still have Lexi, so I think I'll be okay. Then there's my ex-stepdad, Frank. He was sometimes fun. Toward the end he became rude. Before that, though. I miss when I felt like he was a dad, I guess."

Gwen: "My grandfather died when I was very young. He was amazing, though, and I am just glad I remember him. He read stories to me and played with me. And then there's my cat, who we lost a few months ago. She was really sick. I still miss her."

Robbie: "God, I miss Lalika, Akash's mom. She was basically a second mom to me. I talked so fast around her as a kid. She was just starting to learn English when we met, so I don't know if she got everything, but she would always smile and laugh when I did, paying attention to my emotions so she could respond appropriately. But I also loved to read aloud my favorite books to her, so I helped in that regard I guess. She went to all my plays. She made sure to get something for my birthday, and Sam's, separate from Akash's gift. She was amazing."

Akash: "My mom. Every day, I miss her. It's...hard to move past it, I guess. She would listen to you. I still remember her songs that she'd sing, and I still listen to them. She loved taking pictures and filming everything, which I am so grateful for now. She fought for me, when the school district dug their heels in about something. Made sure I had everything I needed to succeed. She was the best."

Jedi: "My mother fought for me my entire life. She pushed to get me an accelerated academic program, fought to drag me and my sister to a better place where I could thrive. Fought my father when he...let us say, went too far. She was fiercely protective. I owe her my life. I just wish I could have repaid her."

Carmen: *scoffs* "I knew Atsila my whole life. Why wouldn't I miss her?" [Yeah sorry that's all you're getting out of her]

Tagging @dyrewrites @ceph-the-ghost-writer @elsie-writes @mk-writes-stuff @aalinaaaaaa @sam-glade @thebejeweledwatercat @winterandwords @mysticstarlightduck @somethingclevermahogony + anyone else ;)

Prompt: A quote about a weird habit they/someone else has.

TSP intro

TSP tag list (ask to be +/-): @thepeculiarbird @illarian-rambling @televisionjester @finchwrites

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yeppeudau · 4 months

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Chapter thirty-one: our couple aregyu 🩵🧡

banner by: @/seungstarss

⎙ synopsis: In which you and Soobin have a crush on the others bff, who which coincidentally, are dating. So you do what any other people with a common goal would, and try to break them up. Except it doesn't go exactly as planned...

⎙ word count: 1.5k (+1 photo at the end)

⎙ warnings: none I don't think?? povs fck me up !!

♡a/n: hi guys🧍‍♀️(i have posted this and edited it like 5 times I'm a mess its been so long)

As soon as class ends Soobin makes his way out to his locker, quickly grabbing his sweater and putting his books away before heading out of the building.

If he was being honest he was some what excited? To go and spend some time with his friends again (as well as the fact he would love some free money to spend on games). It had been some time since he had hung out with Heeseung and Jeongin, let alone Beomgyu. As they've both been preoccupied with other things.

One being the painful sight of having to see his best friend, and his crush eating each other's faces in the hallway. And maybe that was a little dramatic but still! It was something that would definitely be ingrained into his head no matter how much he wanted to forget it.

More over, he had to see you. Which, he was more than open to admit his distaste towards being in your presence, and you the same.

After the little argument the two of you had he's been in a worse mood then he would like to admit. You were just so pushy with EVERYTHING and he couldn't stand it. Boundaries? He was pretty sure you didn't know what those were. It was annoying him to say the least, but fortunately he needn't say anything when Beomgyu knew him like the back of his hand. He immediately sensed something was wrong and asked Soobin to come hangout.

He was happy to have a best friend who knew him so well, which also made him feel worse for even bothering with you in the first place. All this just to "not" break them up but "break them up" he was pretty sure even you were confused.

He felt a little guilty for agreeing to go along with your idea, but in its own way he's hoping all this would help him get over the bubbly student council president, thats what he's hoping at least.

Reaching the gates of the school he immediately noticed his friends, loud and running around like children. 'Why are they like this? ' Soobin thought to himself waiting for them to calm down and finally notice his presence. Thankfully that didn't take long as they greeted him happily patting his back.

Maybe this is exactly what he needed.

Y/N POV

You were ecstatic to say the least. You've finally gotten a chance to hangout with your dearest best friend again. Areum has always been a busy person but she has also always made time for you. Sometimes maybe a little too late but you could never hold it against her.

Walking into the store you were absolutely elated. You weren't a big fan of reading honestly, a wall of text really wasn't your go to, but stylized drawings along with smaller walls of text? Sign you up! The smell of books, the stationary you thought was too cute to use but would buy anyway, the merch of your favorite media, made you love this place.

Areum on the other hand was a big fan of those walls of texts. She actually didn't quite understand why you preferred comics and manga over a good book but she listened wholeheartedly whenever you talked about them. She was a great friend, more than you could say about yourself at the moment. But that was something you for you to push in the way back of your mind once again. 'Future me can deal with consequences right? ' and 'Enjoy the moment let's not go feeling guilty ' were all you said to yourself.

The two of you walked around the store together eventually picking out these cute sanrio matching keychains for each other.

"Areum I'm going to look at the manga 'kay?" you announced, to which she nodded and you walked off.

"today's going to be a good day I'm sure of it!" you assure yourself with a hearty pep in your step.

well, when do things ever go as planned?

SOOBIN POV/MIXED

"Choi Soobin?" Soobin freezes at the the call of his name. That voice was all too familiar and not in a good way.

Turning from his original position slightly, he slowly cranks his neck up to meet the person who assumingly called him. Eyes trailing up suspiciously only to be met with none other than you. Arms crossed, foot tapping, with that ugly look of annoyance you always wore on your face looking down on him.

"Why are you here?!" you whisper yelled at him, causing him to roll his eyes in return.

What? could he not be in a perfectly public place when you're around now? He already has to at school, one more place wouldn't kill you, unfortunately. Soobin scoffs at your question, getting up from his position on the floor to stand in front of you mimicking your expression and stance as he raises his eye brow at you "It's a public book store, and I like books-" he motions to the wall of manga behind him before pursing his lips at using the word 'books' "-manga." he corrects.

You glare at him for a moment and he swears he's never wanted someone away from him more in his life. A 10 foot pole wouldn't even be enough distance between the two of you. He didn't need your nonsensical bickering today, or anyday preferably for that matter.

He was supposed to be enjoying himself with his friends trying to win a cheap reward for a cafe he barely even gets to go to anymore, he is not supposed to be agitated and talking to you.

Just as he's about to turn back around, clearly opting to ignore you, you grab his arm much to his surpise and discomfort. "Are you here with Gyu?" you suddenly ask.

'Of course that's what she would ask ' he thinks to himself, and for a moment he contemplates lying to you, because well, why should he tell you? But as if you read his mid (which is something he never thought was possible) you open your mouth again.

"Listen before you say anything I'm here with Areum thats why I'm asking" you state throwing a thump over you shoulder in the direction of the shorter who was currently flipping through a book.

As he looked in her direction an expression of "She looks so cute" was practically written all over his face.

You roll your eyes.

Coincidentally at that moment she must have felt someone staring as she turns to peak over her shoulder only to meet eyes with Soobin. Her brows shoot up in a pleasant surprise before going back to normal, she smiles brightly sending him a wave.

Soobin feels his heart beat quicken for a moment at the small gesture before slowly waving back dumbly. Only looking back in your direction when you let out a particularly noisy groan.

"Great, she's probably coming over here now. Is he here or not?"

"Uh, yeah he's at the game shop next door. I didn't want anything so I came here.." Soobin trails off still staring at the girl who is now, in fact walking over to the two of you. Hes not sure if he should be happy about this or still annoyed with the fact he had ran into you in the first place. Unfortunately you don't give him enough time to weigh the pros and cons of it before you harshly step (more like stomp) on his foot.

"Ow!" Soobin winces quickly kneeling down to hold his foot, maybe he really didn't have to think about the pros and cons.

"Leave before Beomgyu comes in here and looks for you, would'ya?"

"Why should I when you just assaulted me??" he snaps.

"Because I'm sure you also don't want to spend your day out with our lovely couple, now do you?" you argue back crossing your arms over your chest like some know-it-all.

But at that he silences, you were right, unfortunately, but you were right. And as much as he tells himself he would be okay with just being in her presence, recently that hasn't really been the case.

Maybe its been like that for a while now and he's just refused to acknowledge it, but either way it's not the time to be dwelling on it. He doesn't have the chance to anyway as Areum had reached them.

"Hey, Soobin! I didn't know you'd be here" Areum says with a tilt of her head as she smiles him.

That smile will be the death of him he swears. So much so he fails to give her a reply other than just blinking slowly at her.

But that doesn't seem to phase her as she speaks again "If you're here by yourself do you want to join us?" she asks, probably out of courtesy. But if it was any other day he'd be saying yes.

A simple "uh" is all he manages to let out before you take it upon yourself to speak for him.

"He can't! He was actually just leaving right Soobin??" you question through gritted teeth.

"Ah... yeah actually, I remembered I have something to do, sorry.." he mumbles scratching the back of his neck.

"Oh no, its okay! I just thought I'd ask. Have fun doing what you have to!"

"Yeah thanks.." Soobin says bye to Areum and sends you a glare before leaving the two of you.

"C'mon y/n ready to check out?"

"Huh? Yeah let me just grab this last thing."

masterlist | prev | next

blue meas couldn't be tagged </3 lmk if i missed you!

taglist(open): @maitenight @kori-roe @rich-man-v @gyuville @darrensos @etherealcherrie @jjunis @i-yeseo @igotkpoops @ashxxkook @ilvaussie @soobin-chois @cha0thicpisces @ineedaherosavemeenow @luvsoobs @sukunasrealgf @captivq @baekberrie @knownunknown345 @stellz581 @jaycheoluwu @txtbrainrot @90s-belladonna @soobssup @miyawwn @tyigerz @imsiriuslyreal @txtbrainrot

#wkcnet #k-labels #kbookshelf #txt x reader #txt smau #soobin x reader #soobin imagines #choi soobin #soobin smau #tomorrow by together #txt social media au #smau #social media au #kpop smau #highschool au #enimes to lovers #Best friends��

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blaceelvi · 5 months

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Pairing: miss Peregrine x miss Cuckoo

Tags: Hurt/comfort, dialogue, womance, support, romantic, perekoo, problems, friends, lovers, ect.

Briefly: "You know... If it wasn't for you, I don't know what would have happened to me. You always save me when my existence is on the verge, and my condition is close to breakdown".

"We have been saving each other for..."

"A little less than all our lives, yes," the younger Ymbrene barely smiled, which deeply pleased the Cuckoo.

Notes: Hi, it's fic about my fav pair in Peculiar children. I think, that Riggs didn't really opened for us feelings of miss Peregrine. So Isabel is closest person to her, that's why...

Don't be critical, English is not my language, I'm going through learning it. Hope you like it 🌿🌟

You can write your opinion (please) 🌠

"Mr. Portman! This girl is not your concern!" Miss Peregrine screamed.

No one had ever heard her scream like that before. The room became very quiet. Even the street noise coming from outside the window seemed to have stopped.

The headmistress was shaking with anger, but suddenly she seemed to stumble, staggered, but quickly grabbed the windowsill, finding support in it. Bronwyn was about to rush to the directress, but she stopped her with her palm and rubbed her eyes with the other.

"Miss Peregrine, are you okay?"Bronwyn asked anxiously.

"I'm sorry, I haven't slept for many days," the woman said briefly and continued, "For the sake of the common good, sometimes you have to put up with the imperfections of the world," she said. "The safety of one person is nothing compared to the safety of many thousands".

Jake was angry too and didn't want to calm down. And therefore he couldn't come up with anything reasonable, but just blurted out:

"Well, shit!"

Bronwyn gasped. None of the children allowed themselves to speak to Miss Peregrine in such terms.

Miss Peregrine stepped forward. She leaned over his bed.

"Yes, Mr. Portman, it's shit. But when you have to choose between one shit and another, it becomes clear why it's so shitty to be a ruler. And it is for this reason that we do not involve — and will never involve — children in making decisions of national importance".

With these words, the directress abruptly turned around and stormed out of the room, finally slamming the poor door, which made everyone shudder. If Miss Peregrine spoke in such terms, it means that she really lost her nerve.

Alma was soon walking down the corridor, almost breaking into a run, but her limp did not allow this. Unbidden tears blurred her eyes, even though the woman desperately shooed them away. Her vision was blurred, either from moisture or from days of lack of sleep and hunger, and Miss Peregrine had to lean against the wall, but she did not slow down. She herself did not understand where her own feet were taking her, because her office was completely in the other direction. But then suddenly, from around the corner, she bumped into someone and completely lost her bearings in space, and at the same time her support. Therefore, she would have fallen in disgrace now if not for someone's hands that caught her in time. The semi-conscious Alma did not immediately realize who the unknown was, but he threw one of her arms over his neck and grabbed her by the waist, preventing her from falling. That's her, that's what Miss Peregrine saw in her voice.

"Oh, Alma, Alma, what's wrong with you?" exclaimed a voice, and in it the woman recognized Miss Cuckoo, "Okay, okay, everything will be fine now."

Saying this, Isabella slowly led her friend to her room, and concurrently to her office, which, fortunately, was very close. Meanwhile, Miss Peregrine Falcon had already recovered a little to vaguely realize the awkwardness of the situation.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I..." she tried to justify herself in a confused way, "I do not know how it happened..."

To all this, Isabel only replied with her "everything will be fine now."

Nevertheless, they finally reached the office and, entering and slamming the door with her foot, the Cuckoo sat Alma down in an armchair. Slowly, the picture in Alma's eyes gained some clarity, and she immediately saw a glass of burgundy liquid held out to her in front of her. With a somewhat trembling hand, she accepted it and immediately took a small sip. The red wine rolled pleasantly down my throat, meanwhile, it was the first meal of the day.

Isabella plopped down on the next chair and stared at her friend expectantly.

"How are you?"

Alma didn't know how to answer this question correctly at the moment. All the words and thoughts were spinning in my head at once: what Jack had said, the negotiations with Leo Burnham, the endless recorded appeals to Jacob, who had disappeared with her children, all sent to voicemail.

"Why?.. why did they do this to me?.." she spoke between ragged sighs, and for some reason her lips curled, "Am I... am I doing so little?"

Alma felt the warmth of the palm on her own and fixed her eyes full of tears on the woman sitting next to her.

"Don't say that, please," she whispered in her soft, insinuating voice, "Portman has not yet felt how failure can trample him into the mud".

"But he's so young, and he's already been through so much, poor boy..."

"And you, Alma? Have you been thinking about yourself?"

"I told them so much," Ymbryne continued, not noticing the question, "But... for what that risk of yourself and all the other children so much? I sent about a hundred messages and there was no response to any of them, what was I supposed to think? They... they put me to sleep, you know?"

The elder Ymbryne was outraged by such behavior of children. Perhaps Miss Peregrine had done too much for them. For them, she is something permanent, and her nerves are made of iron. She is capable of experiencing anything and finding answers to everything. But it seems that such abilities are not included in her peculiarity.

"I have no idea, dear. You've done an endless amount of good for them, and they've treated you like this. As a common obstacle to their plans. Do you know that they have no idea what all of us, and you in particular, had to do to save their asses?"

Miss Peregrine was a little taken aback by these words and looked up, full of unshed tears, at the Cuckoo's face.

"Yes... yes, you're right. But the most terrible thing is that he carried away the others as well. I thought I had at least some people I could trust".

"You have me. And I'm there already a little less than a lifetime," Isabel reminded.

Peregrine convulsively tipped the remaining wine down her throat and, grimacing and setting aside the empty glass, timidly stretched out her hands. Isabella instantly understood this gesture and hugged the poor woman around her trembling fragile shoulders. Alma felt the silvery short hair tickle her cheek pleasantly, and the salty paths tighten the skin on her face. She burst into tears, she burst into tears like a stupid girl disappointed in people and the world for the first time. It seemed that the actions of many people could warn her against another pain. First of all, her siblings betrayed her way back in the past. But in this sense, Alma was stubborn, especially with regard to her children.

"When will you stop blaming other people's misdeeds on yourself, my dear bird," the Cuckoo seemed to read her thoughts, drawing circles on her back with thin fingers, "It's not your fault that your brothers renounced the weird ones, it's not your fault that Imbrina is supposed to limit children, it's not your fault that Jake disobeyed you and asked others others".

At each "not your fault" Miss Peregrine shuddered harder, but Isabella hugged her even tighter.

"But I could have behaved differently..." Alma tried frailly. That was her last excuse.

"You behave differently too often and adjust to others, Alma. So you can lose yourself," the Cuckoo whispered unobtrusively.

After these words, the Peregrine Falcon gradually calmed down. The trembling passed and became less frequent, the tears soon ended. Alma reluctantly extricated herself from the cozy embrace and looked at the most desirable facial features.

"You know... If it wasn't for you, I don't know what would have happened to me. You always save me when my existence is on the verge, and my condition is close to breakdown".

The elder Ymbryne smiled broadly and warmly. This charming smile has been exciting Alma for ages, however, as well as every line of her face, every gesture and the whole of her.

"We have been saving each other for..."

"A little less than all our lives, yes," the younger Ymbryne barely smiled, which deeply pleased the Cuckoo.

"That's right, and it's very important for both of us".

"But all good things come to an end," sighed Miss Peregrine, "Like this evening, because I have to go..."

"No need, you should stay here. It's about midnight and you're not feeling well," Isabel protested softly.

Alma herself, lulled by that velvety voice and long hugs, did not want to return to her dark office to the table, where reports and papers related to the search for children were still scattered, to the cold bed, which she had not even had time to touch for the last week. The woman winced at the gloominess of the image of her abode.

"Okay, if I don't cause much discomfort. You only have one bed..."

"Oh, it's not as small as it looks," the Cuckoo caught herself.

Under the gaze of another Ymbryne, she spread out the bed and invited her. Peregrine took off her suffocating business clothes with some shyness, remaining in only a chemise. Isabella did the same. It reminded both of their years at Ymbrynes' Academy, when they lived in the same room. How long have they been carrying their friendship. Alma came closer to her friend and looked into the coffee eyes, which turned amber in the dim light of the lamp.

"I remember the years at the Academy".

"It's true," replied the Cuckoo, remembering that even during the first meeting she fell in love with Alma LeFay Peregrine for her emerald eyes even before the first conversation, "It was a glorious time, unforgettable".

They lay down slowly, facing each other. It didn't bother them at all. Even as children, they often escaped from nightmares in this way.

"You're going to have to sleep off a week of sleepless nights, honey. So sweet dreams and good night," the Cuckoo whispered.

"You haven't slept much either. That's why the same goes for you, honey," Alma replied and chuckled softly.

The sound made Isabel's skin crawl. At that, they fell silent and the Peregrine was the first to close her eyes. When she seemed to fall asleep, the Cuckoo lightly touched her pale cheek with her lips. After that, she closed her eyes, falling asleep. And she will not know that Alma felt this touch and smiled imperceptibly, and only then plunged into a pleasant dream without nightmares.

#perekoo #mphfpc #alma peregrine #miss peregrines home for peculiar children #miss peregrine #miss cuckoo #miss Peregrine x miss Cukoo #ransom riggs #music #comfort #hurt/comfort #love #fanfic #Fanfintion

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smallfrenchstudyblr · 4 months

Note

ahh i should have clarified that i myself don't have a degree (yet). i'm not from an academically inclined background so when i didn't do well in my first two semesters of university (i failed some classes and only barely passed others), i got very discouraged and saw it as a sign that university is just not for someone like me. i then learned a trade and have been working in the field; but i'm interested in going to university as a mature student and i'm going to apply this year for a BA :)

still, precisely because i don't have a degree it really upsets me that someone who used the chatGPT shortcut is a teacher now. teaching high school students is an academic profession, and it doesn't sit right with me how common it is for teachers to say things like "i learned so much useless stuff in university; none of which i need as a teacher"; it's actually really frustrating. then why do you go to university/become a teacher? ??? ????? (i mean i know why, because it pays well here.)

in our country, MA/MSc degrees are required for a lot of positions, so grad school isn't quite as "you're here because you choose to be" but still.. his sentiment is basically, since he teaches high school students it should just be sufficient to be able to teach them, what’s the point of a thesis? like ok with that sort of logic i could have been a teacher with just a high school certifcate. i think tbh there is a wider discussion here about how people just don’t value knowledge too.

he also later said that he sometimes regrets not just paying someone to write it for him and save himself a lot of time and trouble 💀to me that is just the epitome of being so full of yourself. he has just decided that he has what it takes to be a teacher and making him write a thesis is a waste of time because of that. lmao??

also I would like to point out that this guy is not my friend, just someone i met through a mutual friend (and they’re not exactly friends either, they work together💀) i talked about this with my friend and she said that he isn't even the first person she knows who has casually admitted to using chatGPT like this. i guess they feel emboldened to casually admit to cheating because they know that their peers won't report them because that would then make them look like snitches

i'm sorry about venting like this to you; i just remembered that you spoke about the chatGPT problem before

Well first of all: fingers crossed for your BA applications !! Everyone got at their own pace, sometimes you need a few years to figure out how to best approach University!!

That is indeed upsetting that someone who does not value critical thinking and does not understand the point of research/research writing is teaching now. "I don't need it anyway/I did so much useless stuff at school/Uni" is such a dumb. dumb. Argument.

Like, I had to study German and Spanish and Latin and theology. I took the equivalent of AP biology and physics in school and learned how to use a soldering iron and identify rocks. I learned Roman Law, and company insolvency rules, and the procedure to contest a refusal to grant you a construction permit. During my PhD, I had to become proficient in advanced data-driven research methods and 2 different code languages. NONE OF THAT has anything to do with me job, whatsoever. I teach students about the International Court of Justice and some of them are Literature and History majors. I KNOW that their dazzling knowledge in embeddedness theories of international adjudication is NOT what will get them a job.

But it's not about the raw knowledge, it's about

1. Transferable skills: targeted reading, critical thinking, information gathering, writing for different audiences, time management, group work, self-reflection, project management, conflict resolution...

2. Learning how to learn: adapting to new situations, new rules and new logics; switching from one type of reasoning to another; picking up on new practices, new skills, as fast as possible, knowing how YOU best do that: on your own, with friends, listening, writing, visuals, with cues, independently, by teaching...

3. Putting your future work (and honestly, yourself as a person) in a broader context: knowing what the ICJ is to spot dumb and wrong info when you see it. Knowing that it MATTERS that we know different types of rocks, and therefore we should fund research on geology. Knowing quantitative research methods to know when they are used well and when it's bullshit. Knowing that Latin shaped some languages and not others, to understand the limits of translation itself. Knowing how 'generative' AIs work to understand that there is very little about them that is actually 'generative'.

I would evening argue that just being confronted with the sheer vastness of Things and Knowledge and Fields that are not yours has value in and of itself. It keeps you humble, aware that no matter how much you are knowledgeable on your one (1) thing, in the back of your mind, there is the knowledge that there is much, much knowledge you actually do not have and cannot claim to have. OR, in the wise words of Dan Olson on CryptoBros, to avoid being the kind of person that:

"assume that because they understand one complicated thing [...] all other complicated things must be lesser in complexity and naturally lower in the hierarchy of reality"

#this... was much longer than I intended it to be #no sorry for sending this in my askbox!

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yunhsuanhuang · 4 months

Text

LOVE SONGS IN A FOREIGN LANGUAGE | YH HUANG

With apologies to A.L.

When I'm seventeen, I put a picture of Loretta Lynn in the back of my clear phone case. With the same care my best friends take in decorating trading cards of Jungkook and Jisoo, I get a pair of tweezers and my most expensive stickers, and make an afternoon out of sticking little daisies all over a glossy black-and-white printout of Loretta in the 70's. In the picture she's leaning against a tree, her dark hair long and thick, smiling at the viewer with the same unshakable confidence she's always had.

The next day, I slap my phone face-down on the cafeteria table. My friends go oh-my-god and you-actually-did-it and wait-that's-kinda-cute. We propose swapping some of our cards–I get Minho, she gets Randy– until the conversation derails to exams and teachers and the presentation that's due on Wednesday but none of us have started.

Then it's two weeks later, and when I wake up, thirteen hours after Kentucky does, I read that Loretta Lynn has passed away. A clickbait news site uses the same picture for her obituary.

Sometimes I feel like everything I love is already gone and I just don't know it yet.

so why do you like country music, my friend Alex asks me once.

Alex is American, but the South is as alien a place to him as it is to me– he grew up in suburban New Hampshire, after all, in an impossibly huge house bursting with beach-themed paraphernalia. America, to him, is Dunkin' Donuts and perfectly manicured lawns and the pale foam of the Atlantic cutting itself open over and over again against the sharpness of the rocks.

I squint at my phone. It's late, and I'm probably supposed to be asleep by now, but I'm fifteen and the year is 2020 and time stopped mattering somewhere in the middle of March. It's not like I have school tomorrow, anyway.

I type and retype my message for a while. Then, because it sounds about as good a reason as any, I say, idk i just like the fiddles

It's true. I do like the fiddles, and the steel guitar and the autoharp and the banjos too– the joyful clatter of it, the melody so much like flight. During quarantine, I spend a lot of time lying on the bedroom floor with my headphones on, blaring bluegrass at ear-destroying volumes. Maybe if I play it loud enough, if I squeeze my eyes shut hard enough, I can transport myself into the real thing: a honky-tonk with wood-panelled walls, heat and whiskey in the air, some familiar rhythm reverberating through the floorboards. Sometimes I even imagine myself there in the crowd, singing along.

–

In 1957, a song called Geisha Girl by Hank Locklin topped the country and western charts. It's about this American guy who arrives in Japan, falls in love with the titular Japanese geisha, and leaves his American wife for her. Well-trodden ground, both in art and in reality– after World War 2 ended, tens of thousands of Japanese women married American men for love, for money or for everything in between. Locklin's Geisha Girl became so popular that a song was released in reply to it–Skeeter Davis' Lost to a Geisha Girl, in which Davis takes on the persona of the man’s lover back home, scorning her fickle-hearted husband. As is common in reply songs, lyrics from the original are changed to fit the new perspective:

Locklin sings, Have you ever heard a love song that you didn't understand / when you met her in a teahouse on the island of Japan?

Davis sings: Why a love song with no meaning makes you happy, I don't know / I've lost you to a geisha girl where the ocean breezes blow.

A song you don't understand. A song with no meaning. A song in a language you don't speak. What's the difference, anyway?

In post-war Japan, a whole plethora of country music bands sprung up around the country, playing American hits for homesick soldiers: Tennessee Waltz, Lovesick Blues, Your Cheatin’ Heart.. The closer they were to the originals, the better. They'd bill themselves as the Japanese Hank Williams or John Denver or Patsy Cline. The catch? Some of these singers barely spoke English. painstakingly memorising each lyric until their L's and R's sounded just right. Yet, every Friday night they'd get up on that stage and sing songs they didn't understand about a country they'd never been to.

Just a few years ago, America had been Japan's worst enemy. But here their sons and daughters were, singing American songs, working in American jobs, marrying American men. In the present day, you could almost argue that the tables’ve turned: middle-schoolers debate anime at the cafeteria table; red-blooded blue-collar workers drive Toyotas and ride Kawasakis.

One thing that's stayed the same, though– American boys, Japanese girls. Love songs in a foreign language. Kind of a funny thing.

–

For hundreds of years, the West has been fascinated by the geisha. In Puccini’s 1904 opera Madama Butterfly, fifteen-year-old Butterfly is making her living as one when she’s bought by an American soldier named Pinkerton. He marries her, knocks her up, then ditches her in Japan while he marries an American woman. The whole time, Butterfly’s left to pine for him, and when Pinkerton returns to Japan with his wife, Butterfly stabs herself so that her son will be able to live in America with his father.

(Pinkerton, as you can probably tell, is kind of an ass.)

I keep thinking about Butterfly in that lonely, empty house in Japan, waiting for someone who didn’t love her back. I keep thinking about Alex: Alex and his horrible stupid round glasses and his old embarrassing love of Panic! at the Disco and his stupid cringe emojis, Alex who’s still the smartest person I know, Alex who was the first guy to ever pay attention to me. When I’m sixteen, I think about him almost constantly, a constant hum of obsession in the back of my head. I know I’m in love with him because that’s how all the songs go: Randy Travis declares that it’s deeper than the holler / stronger than the river; Deana Carter says it’s bittersweet / green on the vine; Keith Whitley confesses that it’s what I hear when you don’t say a thing.

Alex asks me, so what do you like about country music? And I don't know what to say to him, so I say nothing at all.

–

They read it in the tea leaves and it's written in the sand

I found love by the heart-full in a foreign distant land

–

Alex likes Johnny Cash, Waylon Jennings, the outlaws and the jailhouses and the pistols at the hip. My classmates like the feminist murder ballads, where they think she did it but they just can't prove it, where afterwards the girls sell Tennessee ham and strawberry jam / and they don't lose any sleep at night. I personally have a fondness for the silly and unserious: Alan Jackson extolling the virtues of grape snow cones, George Strait selling me the Golden Gate.

In the end, though, what I end up listening to most are the old songs– the really old ones, all the way back to the dawn of recording, the Golden Age of the radio. These songs, collected in the 1920s and 30s, are impressively varied in lyrical content: you’ve got the ones that are basically a soap opera stuffed into three minutes flat (Lorena, My Heart’s Tonight In Texas); the religious ones (Anchored in Love, Will the Circle Be Unbroken); the relatable ones (Give Me Your Love); the unrelatable ones (The Dying Soldier, No Depression In Heaven). What I like about them, I guess, is the familiar hiss of the vinyl, the way the lyrics are both specific and universal at once, their ability to make a time and a place that you’ve never been to before feel, inexplicably, like home.

Alex and I aren't anywhere near poor– his parents are both surgeons, and I spend my evenings trying not to fall asleep in increasingly expensive private lessons. But then again, neither were the Japanese country singers of the fifties and sixties, mainly college kids from elite families who could afford custom-made cowboy hats and genuine guitars. Hell, even the prince of Japan was said to be a country music fan in his youth. None of us have worked in the fields or in the mines, none of our parents have had to tell us here's your one chance, Fancy, don't let me down. We're the people Garth was referring to when he sang about that black-tie affair, those social graces, the ivory tower.

What does it mean to understand a song? How do you sing something and really, truly mean it?

–

When I'm sixteen, my fun fact on the first day of school is that I listen to country music. When I go out with my friends, I wear ankle-length denim skirts and lacy blouses and tie my hair in twin ponytails. I beg and beg them to listen to Loretta, to Dolly, to Patsy. In response, they buy me a Cowboy of the Month calendar and save me in their phones as "the horse girl". In one inexplicable picture that we've since lost, I've got my face in my hands, trying to hide my laughter, as my friends gleefully blast a Fox News clip about Randy Travis' drunken escapades.

So maybe my taste in music is the most interesting thing about me. What else is there? I'm not very pretty, only sometimes funny, and, to my eternal embarrassment, not good at all at being Asian. If I was smarter– fine, if I was Alex, Alex with his books and essays and critical theory– I might say that I do everything I do because I don't want to be the whitest girl in a room full of Asians (lame, boring, suck-up) but the most interesting thing in a room full of white people (exotic, rare, unique). A geisha girl, dressed in Oriental style.

Even so, I don't like to think that that's all there is to it. You can shrink the world down to words on a page, map out the complicated intersections of nations and culture and war that make up the popular imagination of America, call it pentatonic scales, the mixolydian mode. Of course there's value in that, I know– but all that stuff's a foreign language to me. You can try to explain why music sounds the way it does, but in the end you just have to hear it for yourself.

–

For a genre obsessed with authenticity, modern country music's chock-full of performers: Toby Keith singing We'll put a boot in your ass, it's the American way, Hardy singing My small town is smaller than yours, Jason Aldean singing, I sit back and think about them good ol' days / The way we were raised and our southern ways.

A geisha's a performer, too, in a way. She trains her whole life to sing, to dance, to entertain. In yet another adaptation of Madama Butterfly, David Henry Hwang's play M. Butterfly, a Communist actor seduces a French man by pretending to be a woman for years. When the actor's finally caught, he's asked how he got away with it. He responds: Because when he finally met his fantasy woman, he wanted more than anything to believe that she was, in fact, a woman.

Don't tell this to anyone else, but when I curl my hair and put on lip-gloss and toddle around in heels, wondering if Alex would like what he sees, I feel like I'm a walking caricature in the shape of a girl. When I’m online with him I simper, I preen, I ask stupid questions just to keep him talking to me– and he likes it, or at least I really hope he does. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, I wonder what'll happen if I stop performing. I wonder if there’s anything left of me below the performance.

I used to worry that I fell in love with something that doesn't exist: the myth of America, the barbeques and the cornfields and the porches, the honky-tonk and the church social and the choir all singing, the cowboys on their vast, empty ranches. A place that's already gone, or else never existed at all– but what does that matter? An unreal place for an unreal girl. If everyone's performing, then no one is.

–

How much of this is true, then?

It's true as backroads and cold beer and pickup trucks. True as private jets and cowboy hats and exaggerated drawls. True as Nashville and Wallen and the CMAs. Which is to say, it's as true a story as you want it to be.

–

Tell the home folks that I'm happy, with someone that's true I know

I love a pretty geisha girl where the ocean breezes blow

–

In the months around my eighteenth birthday, my parents start screaming at each other. Suffice to say, they never really stop. I take up temporary residence in the school library instead, and spend my afternoons staring at maths textbooks while regretting every decision I’ve ever made. My exams are drawing closer. I’m sure I’ll fail them. It doesn’t feel real. Nothing does. I can’t bring myself to look at my future, I can’t, and yet like the long black train / coming down the line I know what’s going to happen when it hits me, and I know, I know– it’s not gonna be good. I start learning how to fall asleep to the background noise of things getting thrown. When my friends come over to study, they call the house beautiful. I guess it is.

On the way back from school, pressed into a corner of a sardine-packed bus, I put one earphone in and watch the sunset fall over the expressway, the heat turning the sky a gorgeous, deadly pink. Loretta Lynn sings: Well, I look out the window and what do I see? / The breeze is a-blowing the leaves from the trees / Everything is free, everything but me. The Chicks sing: She needs wide open spaces / Room to make her big mistakes. John Prine sings: Make me an angel that flies from Montgomery / make me a poster of an old rodeo / Just give me one thing that I can hold on to / To believe in this livin' is just a hard way to go.

Meanwhile, in my headphones, a thousand different stories unfold, familiar missives from some far-off place: a son buries his parents. A wife kills her husband. Two childhood friends fall in love. A girl convinces her father to let her marry her boyfriend. A woman pins a runaway to a motel wall. Somebody calls his ex, even though he shouldn’t. A mother sells her daughter to an older man. A traveller gets on a train. The unfamiliar place names rush past. Amarillo, Charleston, Jackson, Cheyenne, Chattahoochee: evidence of an existence outside of calculus and grammar and pushing my desk against my door to block it. In my head I picture as if through a window some wide, sprawling prairie, some open starry sky, and think of Mary Oliver – so this is the world. I’m not in it. It’s beautiful.

–

(Meanwhile, online: it’s a different story.)

–

If it was a breakup, would it have been better? There's no shortage of breakup songs in country music, after all. Like, What right does she have to take you away / when for so long, you were mine? Like, I'm crazy for loving you / Crazy for thinking that my love could hold you Like, Nothing much for us to say / One last goodbye and you drove away.

Instead, it’s the stupidest, most mundane of reasons: we just stop talking. I couldn’t tell you exactly why. For me, I’m wrapped up in exams, family stuff, a clown car full of childhood friends crashing their way back into my life without warning; for him, he’s busy at Harvard, busy with his new friends and new projects and new–

Okay. Fine. His new girlfriend.

I can’t blame him. I don’t have any right to. I still don’t know whether I actually loved him or I was just sixteen, lonely and looking to write myself into a song. Still, after I learn that he’s dating her, I fall into a haze of social-media stalking: I scroll through their Instagrams, their Twitters, anything that’ll tell me more about who he was, who they are. She’s cute, I’ll give her that, and they’re cute together, the kind of forever and ever, amen couple whose profiles are full of heart-shaped chocolates, of candid kisses and in-jokes I’ll never get to hear.

(A love song with no meaning. A language you don't speak.)

For weeks and weeks on end I dream of him, but the really funny thing is that even in these dreams he’s nothing but a spectre: texting me, calling me, writing long-winded letters in the mail. The closest I ever get is this dream where I’m walking through his hometown, the one I looked up in Google Earth in a fit of desperation. It’s just like I thought it would be, every house gorgeous and stately and ancient, the trees barren but still grand. My hometown’s always been warm. It’s the one thing I have in common with the people in the songs, that overwhelmingly oppressive heat, the kind that sucks all the energy out of your bones. Even though Alex lives at the edge of America, Stephen King and sweaters country, in the dream it’s not cold at all– Georgia hot, hometown hot. As I run from house to house, ringing every doorbell, the roads seem to stretch out beneath my feet until the next door seems oceans and continents away. Nobody’s home. Nobody’s there. In the dream, I’m not surprised.

Sometimes I worry that everything I love is already gone, but I guess I knew that already. That doesn’t mean I didn’t love it.

–

When I'm eighteen, my parents spend a small fortune on a family holiday to America, some last-ditch effort at holding the household together. I miss most of it, however, because the moment I step off the plane I come down with the worst cold I've ever had in my life. Thankfully, during the last couple of days I begin to feel a little bit more like a human being and not just a collection of symptoms, so I manage to go down with my family to the shore.

Maybe it's the ghost of the fever coming back to haunt me, or maybe it's just December, but the beach is bitingly cold, the evening light only just poking through the clouds. Standing there, I find myself thinking– predictably– of Alex. We haven't talked in months, at this point: the last thing I texted him was im in the us lol to which he responded Haha enjoy, and that's about it.

On some other shore, so far away we might still be in different countries, Alex is at Harvard writing essays about America– learning how to understand it, how to shape it, how to make it somewhere he can love without reservation. But I'm not him. I know, now, that I know nothing at all about America: not the blue and far-off one in my songs. but the real place, full of contradictions, land of guns and welfare and Walmart and the Free.

I keep going back to what Alex asked me when I was fifteen, when we barely knew each other: so why do you like country music? And it's only here, now, freezing in a down jacket on the California coast, that I finally have an answer for him.

I think: because every good country song is a love song in its own way.

I think: because country music is the only thing I've ever known how to love.

I think: I have stood and watched the sun rise from the waters of the sea / and I've wondered how much beauty in this cruel world can there be / My dreams are all worth dreaming and it makes my life worthwhile / to see my pretty geisha girl dressed in oriental style.

I think: does there really need to be a reason, A?

From somewhere behind me, I hear someone call my name. I turn. It's my mother yelling: “Come back to the car! It's getting cold!”

“Coming!” I yell back, and run to her.

–

Before I have to go back home, I manage to get my hands on a Shania Twain t-shirt, which honestly makes the entire trip worth it.

#just posting for archive purposes #hi william if youre reading this #writing

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twoidiotwriters1 · 9 months

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Daughter of Olympus (Leo Valdez xFem!Oc)

A/N: Are you guys liking the story so far? Most of you are so quiet -Danny Words: 2,834 Series' Masterlist Previous Chapter / Next Chapter Listen to: 'Another Believer' -by Rufus Wainwright

X. Just Because I Have Fashion Sense Doesn't Mean I Have Common Sense

I sit next to Percy and lean my head on his shoulder. "That nightmare you had," I say, referring to Annabeth being crushed by darkness. "You'll tell Chiron about it?"

"He'll say he's got a clue but he won't tell me," Percy states grumpily.

"You think Annabeth wants to join the hunt?" I make a face. "I can't imagine not being able to fall in love."

"Annabeth probably found that flyer on the ground and picked it up, you know she hates littering," He straightens in his place, looking right up at the Big House. "I got it."

Percy takes me to see the oracle, is my first time meeting her, and I'm torn between awe and terror. You're supposed to be granted a quest in order to get a prophecy, and Percy has none. I'm not expecting her to respond, but I ask anyway to support Percy. Then I freak out when I hear her voice.

Percy's already leaving, talking as if I were following him down the stairs, but I approach the oracle. "What?" I inch closer.

Percy hears my voice, still upstairs, and stops. He calls after me but I don't reply. I lean down in front of the mummy, her whispers are impossible to comprehend from where I am, so I support one hand on the back of her chair and put my ear right next to her mouth.

"...Beware arae."

"What are you doing?" Percy's voice startles me and I scream a little.

"I-I'm looking at her dress!" I quickly recover and rush past him. "Great quality!"

I don't know if Percy can tell I'm lying. I also don't know why the oracle addressed me by my real name.

Ara has visited enough magical shops to know they're never fun.

"Guys..." Jason steps out of the elevator. "You've got to see this."

"This is not Macy's," Piper breathes.

The stained window ceiling is beautiful, everything looks fragile and Ara's crow brain buzzes with excitement. She wants to look around, but at the same time, she knows that shiny things are the first to kill you.

Leo gets closer to the railing. "Check it out!"

"Coach Hedge!" Piper gasps. "We've got to get down there."

"May I help you find something?" A woman asks behind them, making them jump. "I'm so happy to see new customers. How may I help you?"

"Um..." Jason pauses. "Is this your store?"

"I found it abandoned, you know," she replies with a pleasant smile. "I understand so many stores are, these days. I decided it would make the perfect place. I love collecting tasteful objects, helping people, and offering quality goods at a reasonable price. So this seemed a good... how do you say... first acquisition in this country."

Ara has a gigantic list of beings that have tried to trick her and her brother into buying stuff at a reasonable price. A reasonable price means turning into guinea pigs or giving away your own parents.

"So you're new to America?" Jason asks.

"I am... new. I am the Princess of Colchis. My friends call me Your Highness. Now, what are you looking for?"

"Jason..." Piper mutters reluctantly.

"Um, right. Actually, Your Highness..." he points to the first floor. "That's our friend down there, Gleeson Hedge. The satyr. Could we... have him back, please?"

"Of course! I would love to show you my inventory. First, may I know your names?"

Ara's second lesson to a rookie: When a strange lady, who looks like the evil queen from Snow White, asks for your name, make sure you lie.

"This is Piper," Jason answers innocently. "This is Leo, that's Ara. I'm Jason."

The woman's face shifts into a nightmarish sight for a second, then goes back to normal just as quickly. "Jason. What an interesting name... I think we'll have to make a special deal for you. Come, children. Let's go shopping."

I pull out juice boxes, cookies, and gummy bears out of my bag as I step into the forges. "You won't believe the day I had..."

Beckendorf looks up smirking and raises his voice. "Everyone, Ara brought snacks!"

If I know anything about the Cabin Nine kids, is that food is the way to their hearts. They drop what they're doing and surround me like hungry ducks. Beckendorf sits me on top of a workbench so I can look at them as I talk.

"I disarmed Lily today!" I announce proudly.

"Congrats, Birdy," Nyssa replies politely, digging into a bag of gummy bears.

"If Nico and I work hard, they'll let us try with real swords!"

"What if we make you a sword?" Beckendorf suggests.

I ponder this, but it doesn't sit right with me. Percy and Annabeth got their weapons from someone else, someone they looked up to. I have to earn mine the same way. "It'll come when it has to."

"What's your schedule for tomorrow?" Jake asks.

I pull out a crumbled-up piece of paper from my pocket. "Lunch. Sword training, the lava wall..."

"What? But you've never used the lava wall," Nyssa stops eating to look right at me.

"I know!" I smile big. "Isn't that great?"

"We'll make you a fireproof onesie," Beckendorf suggests with a straight face.

The boys have gone stupid thanks to Medea, but as long as Piper's watching over them, they'll be fine. Ara backtracks slowly, but just as she's turning to the stairs, the woman raises her voice.

"Where do you think you're going?"

The girl stares at her blankly. "Bathroom?"

"Nice try, Ara Jackson," the woman gives her a creepy smile. "You're not going anywhere without my permission. If you want to live, that is."

"You'll try to kill us anyway," she frowns, not surprised that this lady knows her name. "What's the difference if I speed up the process?"

"Ara!" Piper mutters in alarm.

"It's alright, watch this," Ara turns to Leo and Jason, putting all of her power into words. "Boys, for the next half hour, you can't hear anything unless we scream at you."

The boys speak at the same time. "What?"

"Don't listen to her!" The woman sneers.

"What?" Leo asks a little louder.

Ara chuckles. "That'll buy us time."

"Let's speed up your death, Jackson, since you're so eager to get it," Medea's eyes glow red as she snaps her fingers.

Ara gets transported back to the top floor, sword in hand. She doesn't remember drawing it out. The elevator doors open and something growls inside of it: the Nemean lion steps out, huge and and ready to kill her.

"Di immortalis," Ara's stomach twists in dread.

She drops to the ground when the lion leaps at her, making the creature crash against a couple of mannequins. Downstairs she hears Piper shouting, Medea's voice echoes around the building.

"Good luck slowing him down, Daughter of Olympus!"

"Not cool!" She yells back. "That thing was dead, the hunters killed it!"

"Was, half-blood, you said it!" Medea laughs. "Death no longer rules us, young hero. Thanks to my patron, I am flesh and blood again!"

Ara remembers Percy's time fighting the lion, he had help, and right now her team is three stories below and two-thirds of it is temporarily deaf. Then she wonders... does she have to fight it?

The rules that apply to Percy don't have to apply to her. Ara runs across counters and corridors, she grabs a bottle she spotted before in the perfume section, and as she races she tosses all sorts of things in the creature's path, then slides down a handrail, and grabs one of the living fur coats.

Ara presses the Alpha engrained on the hilt of her sword to turn it back into a compass. When the lion jumps over the staircase, the girl pours the bottle of perfume she grabbed moments prior over her head, then stands on her tiptoes to look bigger and opens her arms, the fur coat wrapping her small frame.

"I'm a cub!"

The lion freezes and tilts his head.

"Meow," she would feel stupid if this weren't a life-or-death situation. The lion sniffs and purrs, nuzzling against her face and licking her hair as if bathing her. "Ugh!" Ara grimaces. "Uh—meow!"

The screaming downstairs increases, it appears Medea shouted loud enough to control the boys. "Stop!" Piper's unable to put enough charm into her voice, she's too scared. Ara has to go back and help them, half of their time has run out already.

"Let them go, Piper," Medea presses. "I'm doing you a favor. Let it happen now, and it will make your choice so much easier. Enceladus will be pleased. You could have your father back today!"

"Okay... uh... listen," Ara holds the lion's face. "You'll cooperate 'cause you're a good boy, right?" The lion rubs his muzzle against her cheek, it feels like pressing her face on sandpaper. "Good boy!" Ara climbs on top of him and takes off the fur coat. It's like riding a Mrs. O'Leary covered in spiky wire, but she's wearing thick jeans, so she'll survive. The girl holds onto the mane. "Let's go!"

The lion hops toward the staircase, at the bottom of the mall Ara can see the fight has escalated but now Leo and Jason are fighting together instead of each other. Medea gets to the second floor at the same time Ara does.

"How—?"

The lion slams Medea against the potions table, pinning her to the ground that's now covered in strange liquids.

"Fool!" The woman chokes out. "Do you have any idea what so many potions will do when mixed?"

"I'm guessing they'll go boom?" Ara looks down at her. "That's kinda my thing." She kicks the lion's side with her heel. "Go ahead, boy."

The creature leans forward to rip off Medea's head, then Festus crashes through the ceiling, and during the split second that takes place, the woman stabs the lion's mouth with broken glass. He whimpers and backs away, rolling over in pain.

Piper runs up to the scene and pulls out Ara from under the creature, ripping her jeans and scratching her leg in the process. Medea doesn't get up, she has several pieces of glass on her arms and face and her legs are in a weird position, clearly broken.

Ara examines the lion and sees his toe beans are raw after getting in contact with the mixed potions. The more powerful, the weaker their soft spots, like an Achilles curse. He's dying.

Ara draws out her sword. "Piper, leave." The girl obeys, but only because Ara uses charmspeak. When Piper jumps the railing she gets caught by Jason and Leo, who are riding Festus' back. Ara helps the Nemean lion the only way she can.

If she had more time and resources, and if they weren't traveling on a flying dragon, maybe she'd nurse him back to health, but that's not an option. The lion leaves his pelt behind and Ara puts it on, it turns into a cloak as she does.

"This won't be the last time you kill an innocent!" Medea snarls, her skin is now blistering. "You cannot escape your curse!"

Ara puts her sword away, not bothering to look back. "Tell Gaea she's next."

She jumps off the railing and grabs onto one of the cages Festus is carrying as he goes up. Once they're out of reach, the mall explodes.

"I still think we should've asked for help," Lily says.

"No, we're going to show everyone," I lift the sword with difficulty. "We're heroes too!"

"Yeah!" Nico exclaims just as excited.

Lily sighs like she's already exhausted. Her eyes land on a boy walking by and she fixes her posture, calling him over. "Michael Yew!"

Michael isn't a big deal, but people know him for his temper. He's never afraid to pick fights with older campers even though he's Lily's height and Percy's age, so he's a perfect guy for us to train with.

He looks at Lily reluctantly, to be addressed by her is always a little unnerving. Also, he remembers her from last year's Capture the Flag.

"Hi..." The boy notices our swords. "Who are you planning to kill now?"

"We're not killing anyone yet, we're training," Lily explains casually.

Nico gets too antsy and starts without us, driving the sword into a dummy with wild energy.

"Training?" Mike crosses his arms. "Athena, Aphrodite, and Hermes don't have sword training at the same time."

"Aphrodites never attend their lessons so the instructor rarely shows up," I shrug. "Nico can do whatever he wants 'cause he's unclaimed, and Lily's using her missing-sister card. She's so sad she can't focus on her lessons."

"I'm falling apart," Lily nods with zero feeling.

Michael clasps his hands together. "Well, you seem to be having fun, so I'm—"

"What are you doing?" Chiron's voice startles us.

Nico's sword cuts across his thigh and makes him bleed, Chiron takes the sword away and snatches mine too as I run up to them.

"Michael, help!" Lily seizes his wrist.

"This is why you shouldn't train unsupervised!" He barks at us.

Michael wants to keep us away from the infirmary so we don't stress out the rest of his siblings, so he takes us to the Big House.

"I was meant to give Will his first lesson anyway," he sighs, lifting up Nico with difficulty. "If you're just starting, you need to learn without the swords."

"I've trained with Percy before!" I argue.

Michael isn't having it. "I won't have you as a frequent patient!"

Lily tries to follow us but Chiron gets in her way. "Miss Saggio, you should be with your siblings. Go."

There is no room for discussion, Lily groans and turns around. Michael is now scolding Nico because he can't stop squirming. "You won't get better with a wrongly balanced weapon—until you find one that's right, you'll use sticks."

"But Percy always trained with real swords!" I pout.

"What if Bianca needs my help?" Nico and I share a look, his eyes are brimming with tears.

"If it's an emergency, you won't even register the difference between wood and the real deal," Michael rolls his eyes. "Everyone knows you three are wild little beasts and I'm not teaching you to kill until you learn to control your impulses."

I frown. "Why are you adding Lily to it? She did nothing wrong!"

"She has terrible posture when using a bow!" He snaps, it seems he's been thinking about that one. "If you insist on threatening people's safety by training together, I'll make sure no one gets hurt."

I'm a little stunned at his reply. "Wait... so you'll help us?"

"Michael?"

Will Solace is standing on the front steps of the Big House's entrance, looking at us with curiosity. Michael Yew walks forward with Nico in his arms, his tone changes when he talks to his ten-year-old brother.

"Will, go prep the stuff, alright?"

Nico whimpers. "I don't like doctors."

I catch up and hold his hand. "It's okay, these are cool doctors."

Hanging from a cage is good for introspection, and Ara's got a lot on her mind. However, after what feels like merely an hour, Festus makes a funny noise and then plummets down.

Ara holds onto the cages, her hands hurting from the cold and the effort. She doesn't allow herself to question if this is how she'll die, because really, the sky is the only safe place left for demigods right now. If they can't make it there, then it's game over.

"You cannot escape the curse."

What was Medea talking about? Ara isn't cursed!

"Hang tight, Ara!" Leo shouts. "Emergency landing!"

The boy pilots Festus to the backyard of a mansion, but the moment they reach the limits something blasts Festus straight on the chest. He drops the cages on impact, and Ara doesn't want every organ in her body to burst if she ends up beneath the cage's weight, so she lets go, rolling away just like Percy taught her.

The snow softens her fall as well as her new cloak and the oversized jacket, but the air still gets pushed out of her lungs, and she takes a moment to recover. When she sits up her neck stings, probably pulled a muscle or two, but she can feel all her limbs, and most importantly, her heart's still beating.

She hears voices and then sobbing. Ara tenses and her mind goes to Leo, he was riding Festus when the dragon was blasted out of existence. She looks back to see the absolute carnage that Festus ended up in and all of the emotions she's been bottling up burst out at once.

Ara doubles over, pushing out the food she ate just a few hours ago. The girl gets up on shaky legs and then searches the area looking for her dino bag. When she finds it, the worn-out T-rex is missing a leg, an eye, and stuffing is coming out of its head. Considering what just happened to Festus, it feels like a bad joke.

Jason and Piper are comforting Leo on the opposite side of the garden. Jason sees her and approaches, but before he can ask she waves a hand dismissively.

"How's Leo?" Ara sees the boy taking apart Festus's head, then the object then goes up into the sky and vanishes. She moves Jason out of the way. "Hey! We could've—!"

Leo's expression is heartbreaking and it freezes her in place. "Talked to my dad," he speaks hoarsely. "He says hi."

Next Chapter ->

Taglist.

@siriuslysirius1107 @ask-giggles1303 @ash-the-hoarder @im-planning-something-look @bandshirts-andbooks @coolninjapaper @thewaterlily @whenisthefall @1randomcomic @you-bloody-shank @sunflowergraves @owlalex44 @taylordaughter @typicalsolangelolover @writingmia @espressopatronum454 @slytherinnqueen

#twoidiots writing #pjo fanfic #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #percy jackson and the olympians #leo valdez x oc #leo valdez fanfic #heroes of olympus #doo

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tenderyellowbluefics · 2 years

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hi there! fellow eddie munson lover here :) i’m in the middle of an absolute downpour where i live and it’s storming quite hard. i was wondering if you might be able to write something where eddie and the reader are close friends hiding their feelings from eachother. perhaps they’re just sitting together listening to the rain and the thunder and eventually they end up confessing their feelings? i’d be happy to see what you come up with!! much love <3

God Bless The Rain // E.M

So sorry this took so long!! I absolutely loved this idea and wanted to get it perfect haha! Thank you so much for the request! Hope you like it.

Summary: When sudden rain ruins plans, Eddie and you have no other choice but to share your thoughts.

Warnings: None really. Mainly fluff. Light angst if you squint.

It hinted that the reader is female, not specified though I believe.

Requests are open!

"Follow me! I know where to go!" Eddie shouted, grabbing your hand to pull you along behind him.

You and eddies favorite place to go to hang out was the woods. No one to be bothered by, just you, him, and nature. Plus, he loved finding weird bugs to freak you out with.

This time while doing that, it started to pour. You were too far into the woods to run back to eddies van, so instead, he led you to a clearing in the trees that revealed, skull rock. A rock structure that could provide you two some shelter from the rain.

"This really is our luck." You laughed, finally getting a chance to breathe now that you were out of the downpour.

"Truly," He agreed, chuckling. "How long do you think this will last?"

"No clue," You answered truthfully. "It's not so bad though, kind of peaceful."

"Yeah, it is."

You leaned your head back onto the rock structure behind you, taking in the sights.

"You come here a lot?" You inquired.

"Huh?" Eddie questioned.

"Like, skull rock; You knew exactly where to go."

"Oh, yeah." He sighed. "It's a nice place to just come and think; I'd love to say it's because this is the most popular makeout place in all of Hawkins, but I think we both know that isn't true." He chuckled, smiling at you.

"You know, you could get women if you just put yourself out there." You mumbled, looking away from him.

"What?" He slightly raised his voice. "I put myself out there!" He protested.

"Offering girls twenty percent discounts on weed isn't exactly putting yourself out there." You chuckled.

"It's an attempt at least." He mumbled. "What about you though?! There's plenty of dudes at school that'd kill to be with you but you never even look at them!"

You felt a small amount of heat flush to your cheeks at his remarks. "I just don't have feelings like that for any of 'em." you mumbled, trying to conceal your grin.

He chuckled at your words, biting his bottom lip, but stayed silent. He looked as if he was fighting off a thought.

You and Eddie had been friends for a couple years now. He was the first person to talk to you when you first transferred to Hawkins high. It was freshman year, and as if that wasn't already scary enough, you knew absolutely no-one. He walked up to your empty table and slammed a flyer down in front of you. Across it read the words, Hellfire club. "Wanna join?" He'd asked with a sly grin. You had no clue what Dungeons & Dragons were, so that was a no-go, but you found other common interests in things like music, and art.

Recently though, your feelings had started to change. You couldn't quite understand them, but it all clicked when you felt a burning rage seeing him with Chrissy Cunningham. You had nothing against Chrissy, how could you? She was the queen of Hawkins high, an absolute sweetheart. It was the fact that Eddie was giving another girl his attention, making another girl laugh, and flashing his beautiful smile at her. After that you realized why you felt such a burning pain at that sight, you liked him, or even loved him. You couldn't be sure, all you knew was that you wanted him.

"You cold?" Eddie's voice broke you from your thoughts.

"What? Oh, no." You stuttered, feeling awkward about the thoughts you were having about the man sitting right next to you.

"You sure? You're shivering."

Shit, you were shivering. The one time you didn't bring a coat.

"Here," He sat up and slipped his arms out of his black leather jacket. "Put this on."

"Eddie no."

"Just take it; You don't need to catch a cold." He insisted.

You slipped the large jacket on your arms, crossing the sides over one another for maximum warmth. You loved the smell, Eddie's smell. Cheap cologne mixed with, weed, cigarettes, and the tiniest bit of strawberries from his shampoo.

"Why don't you like any one at school?" He questioned, tilting his head to look at you.

"Oh, I don't know." You looked down, feeling another slight flush of warmth creeping onto your cheeks.

"There's gotta be someone you like." He teased, gently poking your side with his elbow.

"I guess there is one guy." Your heart stopped realizing what you said, having no idea how or why you let those words leave your mouth.

His eyes widened a little, staring at you for a moment with a small frown, before clearing his throat. "Who is this lucky fellow." He dryly laughed, unconvincingly.

"No one, it's stupid." You grumbled, looking away from him.

"C'mon, tell me; Its just me."

"No." You said sternly, turning to look at him.

"Fine," He puffed, tilting his head away from you. "I guess I wont tell you what girl I like."

You felt a twang of pain in yor chest at those words. Your eyes widened, as you snapped your head over to examine his expression. Was he joking? He had to be, right?

"You, you like someone." You slightly choked on the words as they came out, trying your hardest not to seem normal.

"Yep! She's real hot too!" He laughed looking back at you.

There it was again, that burning anger. You felt your face heat up and your heartbeat quicken, as you folded your arms across your chest.

"I bet it's Chrissy right?" You scoffed, again trying so hard not to let your emotions be apparent in your voice.

"What?" He seemed almost offended, at your words.

"Chrissy Cunningham, I saw you two talking the other day and giggling, you like her right?"

"I was dealing to her, of course I have to be friendly, it'd be bad for business if I didn't."

"Yeah right, dealing drugs to Chrissy Cunningham, that angel, no way!" You slightly raised your voice, more than you intend to as more anger built up in your chest.

"I swear!" He put his hands up. "She was acting really weird, maybe that douche Jason broke up with her."

Chrissy was acting strange when you passed her in the hall. His story seemed believable, but if not her, who else could it be.

"Who is it then?"

He frowned, looking down at his hands, fiddling with the metal rings.

"What is it ed?" You reached a hand to place it on his shoulder.

"It's, It's you." He exhaled loudly, turning his head to where he was completely looking away from you.

"What?" Your voice was small, not fully processing his words.

"I like you," He almost whispered, turning to face you. His brown, fear-filled eyes meeting yours. "It doesn't matter though, you like someone already." He grumbled, breaking eye contact.

"Eddie," You began, "The guy I like is you."

It felt like a two-ton weight had just been lifted from your chest. Finally free of this little secret you've kept for so long.

"Really?" he asked quietly, his eyes meeting yours once again.

"Uh huh." You nodded.

"Oh," His voice was filled with a mixture of shock and relief as his once frowning face had a childish grin plastered across it.

You scooted even closer to him than you already were, placing a hand on his.

He looked at your hands holding one another, than back to your face.

"Uh, so, could I uh, maybe, uh kis-" You cut off his rambling by placing a gentle kiss on his soft lips. His hand made its way to your hip, deepening the kiss.

"Does that answer your question?" You teased, pulling away.

He laughed before grabbing your face and peppering you with kisses. All the way from your forehead, to your nose, your lips, cheeks, down to your neck.

"I've waited like, years to do this." He laughed, childishly grinning.

"God bless the rain." You giggled leaning your head onto his shoulder as you both sat against the rock once more.

"I can't wait to tell everyone in hellfire about this."

"Oh god," you face palmed, already feeling the embarrassment this would bring.

#eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #joseph quinn #stranger things #stranger things 4 #stranger things eddie #eddie munson x reader #x reader #eddiemunson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson edit #eddie munson oneshot #stranger things season four #eddie munson fluff

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princesssarisa · 2 years

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Character ask: Mary Bennet (Pride & Prejudice)

Favorite thing about them: She's funny. Her pretentious would-be intellectualism and her attempts to show off her "wisdom" and "talents" create humor whenever she appears.

Least favorite thing about them: Her pompous insensitivity when Lydia runs off with Wickham. When her whole family is facing the threat of permanent disgrace, her response is to quote Frances Burney's Evelina and preach a sermon about female virtue.

Three things I have in common with them:

*I sometimes try to seem smarter than I really am.

*I like books and music. (For their own merit, though, not because they make me "accomplished.")

*I'm often insecure about my looks.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I'm not a middle child.

*I'm not preachy. (At least I don't mean to be.)

*I don't play the piano.

Favorite line:

“Pride is a very common failing, I believe. By all that I have ever read, I am convinced that it is very common indeed; that human nature is particularly prone to it, and that there are very few of us who do not cherish a feeling of self-complacency on the score of some quality or other, real or imaginary. Vanity and pride are different things, though the words are often used synonymously. A person may be proud without being vain. Pride relates more to our opinion of ourselves, vanity to what we would have others think of us.”

brOTP: Mr. Collins, if they had the chance to be real friends, since he probably has the most in common with her of all the characters.

OTP: The clerk that Austen wrote she would eventually marry.

nOTP: Any member of her family.

Random headcanon: She's allergic to feathers. This is a completely random headcanon, with no basis in Austen's writing, based on the slapstick gag in the Wishbone episode "Furst Impressions" where Caroline Bingley's gaudy feathered headdress makes Mary sneeze when they first meet. That Wishbone episode was my childhood introduction to Pride and Prejudice.

Unpopular opinion: She's not unfairly discriminated against because she's a nerd. She's not mocked for being socially awkward; she's mocked for being a pretentious, annoying know-nothing-know-it-all. Now, this doesn't mean we can't sympathize with her; after all, the reason why she puts so much effort into being "intellectual" and "accomplished" is to make up for her homely looks in a society where only marriage can secure her future, and she's a showoff because otherwise she would always be ignored in favor of her pretty sisters. Nor does it mean her father's dismissive attitude toward her isn't mean-spirited, or that she doesn't deserve to be viewed with more sympathy and depth in new adaptations and fics. But it's okay that she's a comic character, and it wasn't "internalized misogyny" on Austen's part to make her one. I don't headcanon her as being on the autism spectrum either: I understand why other people do, but to me at least, her stilted, verbose way of speaking seems cultivated to show off her intellect, not natural. (I don't mind when anyone else headcanons her as autistic, though.)

Song I associate with them: None at the moment.

Favorite pictures of them:

Tessa Peake-Jones in the 1980 miniseries:

Lucy Briers in the 1995 miniseries:

Talulah Riley in the 2005 film:

#character ask #pride and prejudice #mary bennet #ask game #fictional characters #jane austen

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futurewriter2000 · 4 months

Text

Daily life update

23-02-2024

I feel like God put siblings to test our patience or because he just wanted to have fun with our arguing. My sister and I cannot. She is the so spoiled, selfish and controlling person ever, and you know what? YOU KNOW WHAT? I finally start to understand why serial killers kill because they have family issues because right now I feel like strangling not just her but anybody really. For fucks fucking sake GOD LIKE OH MY UGH!

It's really hard for me to lose my shit and when I do, it's usually because of my family. I don't give a fuck about anybody else really but my family just knows how to push those buttons. THE WAY I COULD RUN A WHOLE ASS MARATHON JUST TO GET THIS ANGER OUT OF ME. Bro, I don't know. I'm just so mad right now I want to punch something but to be honest, my arm strenght equals the same as mouse's.

Today just started wrong and ended all wrong. I had to wake up early because I had to apply to the gym and my sister manipulated our common friend that I didn't want to go today (which was a lie, my friend and I said on Saturday and it was last moments when my friend told me that she can't Saturday ) so FOREVER PLEASING MR. ME had to get up extra early before work, to go to apply to the gym and on my way there, I realised I forgot my walled which is essential for the purchasing a gym membership. I called my dad and my sister got mad for calling him because she argues a lot with him and they don't talk. Then she went on the bus without me becasue she didn't want dad to drive us. Dad brought me the wallet and drove me to the gym. We got that gym membership- alltogether, my friend and my sister roasted the shit out of me, I really felt so awful. Then I had to go to work.

At work I had a horrible team to work with but all in all, it passed quickly. Came home- just came home when my sister came into my room and started to order me what to do tomorrow- and I just fucking came home and she's literally breathing behind my neck already. I got pissed, I told her everything. She got pissed at me getting pissed at her. Then I went to shower and I wanted to shave (which is really a miracle day when I decide to shave) and guess what? NO FUCKING HOT WATER! NONE! NOTHING! NADA! SHE ALWAYS DOES THIS!!!! SHE ALWAYS FUCKING DOES THIS AND I SHE JUST MADE AN ENEMY OUT OF ME!

Fuck her and her fucking problems.

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wo-der-horizont-beginnt · 4 months

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Any fandom you want (but you know I most care about TdV heheheh): 1, 8, 16, 20, 25

ooh so many!

1 the character everyone gets wrong

Given Sarah has no solo songs and is rarely alone, and generally 'performing' for someones else, it's hard to say other people are necessarily wrong about Sarah. However I'm right, she wants freedom and Krolock can't offer that, living in a isolated castle for eternity, preying on the people you grew up around is not freedom. Having good sex with Krolock (as the fandom envisions) is not an adequate trade off for not getting freedom. The bit is a means to an end, which is not to say she doesn't like him at some point, it's just not freedom and she wouldnt be happy.

Magda, there are multiple posts on this site suggesting she'd be friends with Herbert.

Albronsius - they don't see, as I do, the yearning he feels for Alfred xDDDD

Nannerl, the old reviews don't quite get her, Kunze doesn't get her anymore, God doesn't love her anymore, it's all a nightmare.

8 common fandom opinion that everyone is wrong about

done for Tanz!

16 you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

Sarah staying with Krolock - see above.

Herbert, the way fandoms swarm around a young gay or headcanonable-as-gay man is inexplicable to me, I have read all the explanations people have about lacking representation (and I am a lesbian, it still doesn't make sense, i happily enjoy media without thinking about its queerness if it has good women characters, I don't get the obsession fandoms have with finding the gay man to fall prostrate at the feet of (my mother has a slightly unhinged, i think ridiculous theory as to why they do though)) and none of it has brought me to an understanding of why people adore Herbert, this man who harasses our main character and has zero character arc around it, that is his sole purpose in the musical, there is nothing more to him????

20 part of canon you found tedious or boring

TdV - Gott ist Tott, I won't even watch/listen for Steve Barton that often. The professor's songs, yawn. Ewigkeit. Knoblauch. (I swear I do like the musical)

25 common fandom complaint that you're sick of hearing

I sort of said this when i answered 8, complaints about the German (original Vienna) costumes, Kentaur is very beautiful ( as are parts of og Vienna) but it doesn't suit the show Tanz der Vampire which is campy and satirical, Kentaur is pure straight gothic romance.

#thank youuu for the ask!

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phoenixduelist · 8 months

Text

BASICS !

Name / Alias: Jasmine

Pronouns: she/her

Type of muses: canon | OCs | both | other (specify)

GENERALITIES !

Triggers people MUST tag: None.

Interest tracker / checker: I have it and it's mandatory | I have it, it's not mandatory but I'm more likely to follow back / interact with the people who fill it | I have one and I prefer it if people fill it in | I have it but it's to people whether to fill it or not | I don't have one | other: I don't have one but probably should have because the Véghváryverse has gotten out of hand

Rule passwords: I have one and it's mandatory | I have one and it's optional | I don't have one | I send passwords | don't sent passwords | when should I send a password?? If I send it while the other person hasn't followed back I feel like I'm being pushy & almost demanding a follow back. If I don't send it and follow them, then they will think I didn't read the rules.

3-5 ESSENTIAL RULES PEOPLE HAVE TO RESPECT

My blogs are +18 only. I know you feel ready and don't know why is this thing so common; I felt the same way. You will get it when you're older.

Don't use Amber Heard as a faceclaim if you would like to write with me. I don't tolerate Johnny Depp slander either.

Like my characters, my writing style is also intense. Grand storylines, deep emotions, detailed fight scenes, serious conflicts. As @erthlyheavn once called the 'genre' (and I'm still extremely honored): Jasminean tragedy.

3-5 IMPORTANT PET PEEVES TO KEEP IN MIND

Tiny ass icons (less than 100x100) with a distorting psd slapped onto it with a fancy border. I CAN'T SEE SHIT. Let alone make out the character's expression. This isn't a dealbreaker though, I just don't understand the appeal of something so microscopic supposing to convey emotions.

Extreme formatting to the point I have difficulty reading it, despite my eyesight is great.

Haven't really happened, but expecting Rozy (or any of my muses) to be immediately down to have sex with yours. She might feel attraction at first sight, especially if the first meeting is a swordfight, but she's a trauma ridden gray asexual. It will take some time.

That being said, treating OC X Canon ships like it's the fucking 8th deadly sin.

2-5 THINGS THAT WILL LEAD TO INSTANT (SOFT) BLOCKING

Porn bots duh.

Blogs without displayed +18 age (I am fine with personal blogs if they are +18)

Terfs, racism, homophobia, Amber Heard supporters etc

Anon hate, unless I'm feeling snappy enough to answer.

2-5 THINGS THAT LEAD ME TO UNFOLLOW / SOFT HARDBLOCK A MUTUAL / SOMEONE I INTERACT WITH

We all know and put in the no racists etc list in our rules but I haven't seen many 'don't interact if you're anti sex work'. So if I see anyone speaking poorly of sex work in general, sex workers of any kind from full time workers to selling feet pics on Onlyfans; saying they deserve whatever treatment because of their line of work, daddy issues/uneducated/unintelligent jokes, use of slurs: get the fuck out of my sight and be very glad I'm not your neighbor. My blogs are all safe spaces for every kind of sex workers.

Portraying pedophilia/rape/sexual abuse in a positive light. It's not the same as having those in your character's backstory, nor if your character has a warped mindset on it due to what they been through. I am able to tell when the mun themselves write it as a kink instead a character's trauma response.

Being soooooo 'anti callout' that they refuse to heed the 20+ page google docs of evidence and still interact with known abusers in the rpc. And I'm not talking about 'they called my friend stupid and have a similar theme as them' petty shit. I'm talking about grooming, pedophilia, slandering, manipulating, doxxing, harassing, stalking. If you let that fly because their writing is good, they make you graphics or for whatever the sorry attempt of an excuse; what the fuck.

Giving me unwarranted, unwanted, condescending criticism about my writing. This doesn't mean I don't accept criticism, far from it. I also ask for feedback from time to time. I don't care how this will sound: I know I'm a good writer. I researched everything, poured history, psychology, years of development, depth, nuances, despite her strengths/talents she is balanced on the power scale (especially with the latest addition of the necessary recovery after pulling her sword fuckery), just very difficult to deal with. You do not get to dismiss that nor try pull me down because you will only end up pissing me off for eternity. Just say 'Our writing styles don't match' and unfollow. No harm done with that. But giving me an incorrect lecture when I didn't even ask for it is one of the very few things that will get you blocked without a word, because I'm still courteous enough to not leave an essay how you had no right & break down why you're wrong in your inbox before the block. Don't make me tone down my writing style and insult me for it because you don't want to/incapable of matching it.

2-5 REASON YOU DON'T TO FOLLOW (BACK) SOMEONE

Writing style and/or preferred topics the other person wants to discover don't or barely overlap with mine.

Shittalking Ocs in the rules like 'canon gave us enough developed characters'. Are we seriously gatekeeping...creativity???

Overly...detailed or harsh isn't a good word for it; but if the rules are like blocking without a word in case of liking too many posts, reblogging a meme instead of the source, sending too many messages etc. Which is fine how you want to curate your space, but I have way too many problems to worry about irl and I don't want to feel like I'm on a minefield where one wrong move is game over forever when I'm supposed to have fun. I'm way too stressed for this.

Even if everything is fine but I don't feel that spark. When I follow, it means I'm very much interested, intrigued in your character, your portrayal and want to throw my psychotic captain & the disaster crew at your muse(s). But there are some cases when I simply can't feel that. And I don't want to disappoint anyone by giving replies without soul in them.

tagged by: fucking stolen what did you expect, this is a pirate focused blog

#Context: I had and still having aftershocks of a brutal epilepsy mixed panic attack; pumped full of meds and during this I'm brutally honest #Don't worry; you get the sweet Jasmine back instead of the bitchy one after a 14 hour sleep #🩸ooc 🗡 | out of tragedy #the Hardblock reasons section became a collection of burning hot takes-

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