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bounce-a-coin-off-your-witcher · 4 years

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In My Dreams Tonight

for @chaotic-bard who asked me for some fluff!

have a soulmates that dream about each other au featuring both a modern au and the canon universe!

brought to you by “Dreams Tonite” by Alvvays

---

“You’re nothing but trouble, bard,” the tall man glared from atop his horse. He always seemed to be glaring or glowering or huffing, the man in Jaskier’s dreams. The familiar stranger wore his long white hair pulled halfway back and he had golden eyes, the pupils of which were slit up the center like a cat’s. His name, Jaskier had learned after the third straight week of seeing him every night, was Geralt of Rivia. A Witcher, apparently, whose job it was to hunt down monsters.

“Ah, but what a lovely piece of trouble I am!” Jaskier replies. And he’s rather sassy himself in these dreams. Far more clever and ready to fight than he is when he’s awake. “You would miss me if I left, wouldn’t you, Geralt?”

“Hmm.”

The stranger hums a lot. He glares and he hums. Jaskier’s heart stutters frightfully in his chest whenever the man smiles, though. The sight is rare. Geralt has smiled perhaps three times in the past two months.

“Where are we going today?”

“Werewolf outside of town. You’re staying at the inn, where I know you can’t get into… nevermind. You can get into trouble anywhere.”

There’s a lightly teasing tone to the stranger’s voice that Jaskier hasn’t really heard before. He likes it. He craves more of it. He tosses and turns in his sleep, his skin damp with sweat. The dream goes on.

“Geralt, please,” he whines, “I can’t write ballads about monsters I haven’t seen! Or fights I did not attend! That’s lying to my audience, Geralt, and I simply won’t do it. I must go with you.”

“Drop it, Jaskier,” the man snarls. Jaskier feels sad. Incredibly sad.

Rejected?

“Gera-”

“I said drop it, bard.”

Jaskier wakes up feeling a little heartbroken and he yearns to be held. His pillow holds the fading scents of leather and wood-smoke. The sight of a pine sapling at the dog park makes him tear up.

He starts to wear the color yellow out of nowhere and his taste in jewelry switches from gold to silver.

When his best friend asks him about the recent changes, he cannot answer.

---

Geralt pours himself a mug of tea and shakes his hair out of his face. He’s been having odd dreams lately, things that feel familiar but manage to stay just out of his conscious grasp. Someone important is waiting for him. Someone he love and cares about and needs.

Geralt doesn’t really buy into the concept of soulmates, but he does understand instinct. He knows to trust his gut. He knows to listen and start paying attention when the same haunting blue eyes creep into his dreams every night for six months, plaguing him in the waking hours by refusing to give up their owners’ identity.

He wipes a hand down his face and sighs loudly into the otherwise empty studio apartment. “Fuck me, I gotta figure this shit out. I gotta talk to Yen.”

Talking to himself has always helped him calm down. He does it again, just to hear his own low voice scraping through the silence.

“I gotta see what’s going on with my head. These dreams are… getting to be a bit much, even for me.”

He nods to no one in particular and goes to text his best friend and coworker.

---

Jaskier hops off the bus and carries his guitar case down to the coffee shop on the corner. Finally, he’s managed to get a gig that wasn’t through the university.

He sets up his stuff in the tiny alcove the shop treats as a stage and watches as a few customers stroll around near the counter, waiting for their drinks or reading through the menu, hovering just far away enough from the line to keep others from growing confused.

He loves people watching.

Once everything is ready to go and the light outside the window has dimmed a bit, indicating early evening has finally arrived, he pulls his guitar onto his lap and strums through a few quick chords.

“Rode here on the bus,

Now you're one of us.

It was magic hour,

Counting motorbikes on the turnpike;

One of Eisenhower's.”

“Live your life on a merry-go-round;

Who starts a fire just to let it go out?”

He watches a particularly handsome man with broad shoulders and a vintage denim jacket approach the counter. Jaskier adds a haunting, well-practiced lilt to his voice as he goes into the chorus, hoping to get his attention:

“If I saw you on the street,

Would I have you in my dreams tonight?

If I saw you on the street,

Would I have you in my dreams tonight, tonight?”

An equally beautiful woman with long, curly black hair approaches the denim-clad angel and whisks him towards a table nearby. She settles with her back to Jaskier, leaving him with a decent view of the man’s sharp, lightly stubbled jaw, glittering eyes, and severe white ponytail. He’s gorgeous.

He’s also uncomfortably familiar.

Jaskier continues to perform, trying to identify his attractive mystery man the whole time and failing miserably.

---

“He’s everywhere, Yen. I feel like I could identify him by scent if I got close enough. I can’t remember his name, though. Or the color of his hair. I don’t know his face, only his eyes. It’s driving me crazy.”

“Have you talked to Dr. deStael about it?”

“Yeah, but she said this kind of thing is normal. Recurring dreams often help us sort out our trauma or something like that. I don’t know. I don’t feel traumatized by this guy I feel… protective of him. Maybe even like I love him?”

“Hmm.”

“Hey, that’s my line.”

“Shut up for a minute, this live music actually slaps and I want to listen to it. Then we can discuss your weird possessive tendencies towards your dream boyfriend.”

Geralt takes a slow sip of his coffee and glances up at the singer off to their left, perched on a barstool with his guitar held carefully on his lap. His voice is soft but somehow bright. Geralt finds himself utterly entranced.

“On the weird guitar;

Said you'd go to work

In the waking hour.

In fluorescent light,

Antisocialites watch a wilting flower.”

“Live your life on a merry-go-round;

Who builds a wall just to let it fall down?”

The lyrics are strange and hold a dream-like quality to them. They draw a picture in Geralt’s head, something dark and heavy and oddly hollow. He has another sip of coffee and tries to ignore the feeling of panic welling up inside him. He glances at Yennefer to see if she’s picked up on his mood, but her violet eyes are focused on the singer and his nimble fingers as he continues to play and sing.

When he glances up towards their table and their eyes meet, Geralt loses the ability to breathe.

That shade of cornflower blue was…

Couldn’t be…

Had to be…

The gorgeous, feathery tenor continues to fill the air, whirling pleasant notes past his ears and deep into his subconscious. Geralt knows that voice. He’s heard this man laugh and sing and cry and scream a thousand different times. Through a handful of different lives. Geralt knows that face, those hands, those strong legs and long arms and blue fucking eyes. He’s held this singer in his arms every night for centuries, feeling his breathing as they both drift off to sleep.

He has protected this man and been protected by him in return. He has kissed and been kissed, caressed and been caressed. The two men sitting across from each other in the coffee shop physically embody an endless cycle of love. It has been bound up in the souls of two no-longer strangers. Geralt knows that he knows this man.

He knows Jaskier.

Petal pink lips continue to form soft words and slender hands keep plucking at vibrating guitar strings:

“Don't sit by the phone for me,

Wait at home for me, all alone for me.

Your face was supposed to be

Hanging over me, like a rosary.”

Geralt stands suddenly, startling Yennefer but not the performer, even though he’s clearly just as shocked as Geralt about this recent development.

Their mutual realization.

“So morose for me,

Seeing ghosts of me,

Writing oaths to me,

Is it so naïve to wonder…”

Geralt crosses the room to the edge of the stage in three quick strides. Yennefer is close behind him, her latte just as abandoned as his coffee at their table. She grabs her friend’s arm as if to stop him from doing something violent, but when he doesn’t struggle against her grip she lets it go again easily.

“Geralt?” the musician asks.

“Jaskier?” Geralt replies. The guitar is placed quickly to the side and a pair of incredibly familiar arms are thrown around the taller man’s neck. Geralt hugs back just as firmly, his arms flung low around the brunette’s waist. Geralt knows that this is Jaskier’s favorite way to be embraced; he doesn’t know how he’s aware of that fact, but it comes to the front of his mind clear as day.

“Holy shit,” Jaskier breathes, leaning back to stare Geralt in the face. One of his string-calloused fingers traces down over Geralt’s eyelid and cheek and he cocks his head to the side. “No scar?”

“No,” Geralt shakes his head. “Not this lifetime, I guess.”

“Were we? Are we- are we, you know...?”

“Yeah,” Yen beams, adding her two cents from the sidelines. “I think so. Congrats, boys. This is one of those one in a million chances and you’ve gone and done it.”

“Done what?” Geralt asks. Jaskier tosses his head back and laughs. His happiness rings out through the cafe like a struck bell and Geralt’s heart stutters frantically. He really does love this man already. Wholeheartedly and without fear. “What have we done, Yen?”

“As obtuse now as you were then,” Jaskier chides affectionately. “Soulmates, my love. We’ve been bound by the red string of fate and ta-da! Here we are. Again, apparently.”

“Yes, okay,” Geralt breathes, nosing his way along Jaskier’s jaw with giddy determination. He presses a quick and wholly welcome kiss to the bard’s lips. “That makes sense.”

“Do you... do you want me again? This time around?” Jaskier asks, fingers fiddling with one of the ties on Geralt’s hoodie. A pair of chapped lips press against his again and he sighs into it, melting against his no-longer-Witcher.

“Yes. And the next one, as well.”

#bouncey's sappy hours #geraskier #geraskier fluff #yen #yennefer #yenerference kinda #getting together #soulmate au #prophetic dreams #geraskier soulmate au #geraskier soulmates #shared dreams #modern au #geraskier modern au #kissing #first kiss #magically getting together #prompt fill

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marquiswrites · 4 years

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Where Bluebirds Fly

Fandom: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)

Characters: James “Bucky” Barnes,Shuri, Original Female Character/OC

Relationship: James “Bucky” Barnes/Reader,

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 1497

Warnings: Mentions of war, brief mentions of previous trauma

Author’s Notes: This is the long belated follow up to Somewhere Over the Rainbow, where I rained a little bit of emotion terror on the darling @cake-writes

I know that I had promised this to you forever ago, so I very humbly ask for you apologies. Love you, and hope that you are doing well in the midst of all this crazy.

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

You could hear the slow humming first, followed by quiet hisses. Your eyes not quite able to open, still too heavy from your sleep. Your mouth dry, lips cracked. A soft groan rumbled through your chest as you took stock of the many little aches and pains that your body was making known. A lingering cold biting at your extremities.

And beyond that, muffled voices. Too far away to hear, or as if you were underwater.

Until a small hiss became your lifeline.

The noise encompassing your every sense. Jarring through the very echoes of your soul. Your consciousness oozing slowly back into your cells. Wading your way back to waking.

A sudden cacophony of awareness hits you all at once as you stumble forward, half ejected from where you had been standing. Laying? But now you’re surrounded in warmth, anchoring you as your eyes blink open, whining softly at lights too bright to be natural.

“Give her a moment, not everyone can be as quick as you to re-orientate, brother.” An accent you don’t recognize flits through the room, lilting and amused. A new sensation, a hand, pressed on your shoulder. “Stop being an idiot. Guide her to the chair” The amusement had turned to gentle prodding.

Turning your head to find the source of the voice. A pair of warm brown eyes meets yours. A smile, wide and curling just at the edges of the lips. Giving you a small nod. “There we go, just let the idiot take care of you. Small steps now.” The warmth keeping you from collapsing slowly begins to move. And then you’re being guided down to a chair. A glass of water being offered from the side. You take it to lift to your lips. “Don’t-” “Drink too fast. I know. I’m a field nurse.” You manage a wry smile, your voice weak and raspy, as though it had gone too long without use. Lifting the cup to your lips before you were suddenly freezing halfway through the motion. Eyes going wide as you lifted your head to look at the woman. “The mortars? Did anyone else survive? Who’s your unit commander?” The woman laughs softly. “My name is Shuri, and don’t worry, you’re safe. I have the files here, my idiot brother thought you might want to look over them, it would appear that he can use that head of his for something other than smashing into people.” Shuri kneels before you, offering the manilla envelope, marked with a red “Classified” sharply across the top. “Why?” “Because there is more to the story, but that is not my main concern. Right now, I am here to keep you from going into shock.” Shuri tapped at the bracelet she held. A gasp fell from your lips as a screen popped up from it. Trying to watch as the information pulsed through, brow furrowing. “That-” “Yes. Your vitals. I’m currently monitoring them, but it would seem that you are more durable than we had thought. Which makes sense with the findings that Erskine had left in your file, and Howard Stark.” Shuri nods, tapping at the screen once more. “Now, I’m going to leave you two alone, because he has more experience explaining these things. And I don’t want to see our white wolf getting sappy again.” Nodding to the presence behind you before pulling away. Exiting the room with the small hiss of a door.

“Gotta say, doll, look just as good as the day I put that ring on your finger.”

You whip about in the chair, which was a very obviously bad idea, swaying almost immediately to the side with another muffled whine as your head started to spin. “Easy now. Easy, I’ve got you…”

And then Bucky is drawing you into his arms.

Anchoring you, as he ever had. As you could only hope that he would have had the chance to do again, when the mortars had gone off.

A dream. A pleasant dream. Perhaps this was your heaven. Your land of Oz. To be held by this man who had likely died protecting what he never realized what was lost. To be loved by your sargent, the way that you had never been able to, as the world was torn apart around you. The solace that stolen moments had given, now yours for eternity.

Then you heard his chuckle, that warm, heavenly chuckle. Watched the wry turn of his lips, the way that his eyes crinkled up in the corners, lines you couldn’t remember having been there before.

“Well doll, don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore.” With that, the spell is broken, laughter pealing out from your lips before you could even realize what the sound was. Lifting up just enough to throw your arms around his neck, to allow him to cradle you close. “You’re such a bastard.” “Hey now, doll, I knew my pops. Don’t need to be nasty about it after you just woke up.” Bucky was laughing again, but you could tell that there was something… something dark, holding him back. That this wasn’t the man you had last seen on the battlefield.

That last glance before he had left again… Before he had been gone for too long… Before…

“What happened?” “Too much to explain here, doll, but I promise, I’m gonna tell you everything.” Bucky sighed before he was lifting you into his arms. The ease of the motion familiar and alien all at once. “Come on, I’ve got something to show you.”

You wet your lips, but nod. This one man, in all the world, you would walk into the very fires of Hades beside.

He moves you through a short series of hallways. The light less harsh than it had been… In what you are now assuming was an examination room. Then slowly opening a door, glancing down to you in what you could only assume was nervousness, a quality you didn’t associate with your sargent. And stepped through.

You laughed softly, it looked as though someone had taken a cinema room, and laid couches around the floor. As if to combine a classic living room with the theatre. The sheer extravagance of it made you scoff. Lifting a brow up to Bucky. “Didn’t know a sargent’s pay could afford a private cinema, Soldier.” “What can I say? Only the best for my girl.” Bucky chuckled, moving to set you down onto the couch, taking the seat beside you. Slipping his hand into yours before reaching for... You weren’t entirely certain what it was, only that you gasped as the screen suddenly came to life. And yet…

“There isn’t a projector here, where is the film coming from?” “Part of the things I need to explain… Don’t have projectors anymore, Doll. Everything’s set up to come to life right on the screen.” Nodding as the movie began to play.

As your movie began to play.

Eyes watering as you sat through the beginning of the film, listening to Dorothy’s voice as she started her song. The song that you had sung a dozen times.

“Seems like we’re over the rainbow, doll, and bluebirds have certainly gotta be flying… Because I never…” You turned to Bucky, shocked at the sound of a sob. Moving to wrap your arms around him, your soldier come home to you.

“I’m here, Bucky. I’m here.” “And I’m never gonna let you go.”

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

‘Buck,

I know that I said I’d be with you to the end of the line, but this is the end of the line for me. You’ll know by now that I didn’t turn back, I’ve stayed here with Peggy, and we’re happy. Expecting a kid soon. Sarah for a girl… James for a boy.

I’m sorry if it feels like I’ve abandoned you. I would be there at your side every day if I could. But the truth is that you fit into that world so much better than I ever did. You’ve always been quicker to adapt. You’ve got Sam there to help you through it. If you give him a chance. And me… I’m just a soldier who’s lived through one too many wars. Don’t know how much fight I’ve got left in me Buck, not after losing you and Sam for five years, and now Tony… Nat... So instead I’m choosing to set down the shield. Give myself a chance for some peace. I hope that you can do the same.

We both know who the right person is to pick that shield back up.

And maybe by doing what I’ve done, I can earn a little forgiveness in your eyes. Set a few things right. Least I can do for my best friend.

After all, you were always such a sap when you could hear her singing.

Steve

P.S. We’ve made sure that she’s got a fighting chance of kicking your ass on the field again… And saving it. Do right by her.’

#Where Bluebirds Fly #bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #Shuri #post endgame #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #avengers fanfic #Field Nurse Reader #Super Serum #Cryo

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tcrmommabear · 4 years

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Merry Christmas Cinder!

@deadbonessinderhellaton, yours hit me like a golf club, and I was simply at its whim.

It’s rare when one prompt speaks to me so strongly. Two at the same time is almost unheard of. Yours (sort of) has three prompts.

How did Haru end up running the Bureau? + Faustian Bargain/Deal with the Devil + “Ghosts are like relatives”

I struggled so hard with this, until the format finally hit me. And then yours was done and I wanted a full fic. I hope you enjoy this as much as I had writing it!

Cobblestone was cold. Cobblestone was familiar.

Cobblestone was pressed against her cheek and that’s not exactly where it should be.

Where should it be? Where should she be?

Images popped into mind, bubbling forth from somewhere familiar but blocked. Names, places, words, feelings. A slideshow before her eyes, leading her to where she needed to be.

Horror crashed through her.

“No!”

***

“Baron! Watch out!”

She yanked him arm, fire singeing her hands as it roared past them. They pressed up against the wall, listening to the dragon inhale, rumbling growl rattling through their bones.

They glanced at each other. Adrenaline coursed through her veins, hot and jittery, and she couldn’t stop the wide grin she gave him. His own almost matched the intensity of hers, breath heavy.

“That’s one way to get his attention,” she joked. His grin grew wider.

“Well, we’ve certainly got it now.”

***

She settled her life in places that she could. A goodbye note here, hints of life there.

A tearful goodbye with her mother that didn’t keep. She inserted herself into her life as much as she could, all the way up to the end. Sat on the couch, like she was a teenager again, coming home from a date or a party.

Instead she came home from life or death situations.

Except the second one wasn’t even an option.

***

She strained to hear, effectively pinned into place.

His voice was there, it was just out of reach, and she couldn’t stop him.

“... Everything. Do you swear on that?” he asks, voice colder than she had ever heard it. Harsher, demanding, authoritative.

“Don’t-!” she screamed out, but the words muffled against her lips and barely cut through whatever was holding her back.

They looked at her, two faces eerily similar. Except for two little horns curling from the one on the right’s temples. That one gave a splitting grin, flesh cracking. Cheshire.

Devilish.

It was in front of her, and she caught it all in full, watched the head tilt. The voice warped, familiar cloaked in nightmares. Turned its body to give the other a hand to shake, head still locked onto her.

“Do you swear?” he demanded again, hand just hovering out of reach.

The other forcibly clasped it, giving it a shake.

“Every damn day,” it told her.

***

“Look out!” she roared, dashing towards the young woman almost caught in flames and hissing liquid.

They tumbled to the floor, rolling as she shielded the other with her body. She wanted to howl as acid sunk into her flesh, but only grit her teeth. She could already feel herself knitting back together, bare back against the elements with the fabric of her jacket and shirt gone.

“Miss Haru…” the young woman whispered in horror, reaching up to wipe away at remnant acid still fizzing away.

“Don’t!” she blurted, catching her hand before it could touch it.

A roar sounded off in the distance, the beast running after another prospective meal. Haru slowly sat up, then stood, and finally reached down to help her client up. They glanced at each other, Haru looking around the corner to see if she could spot their monster.

“I’m so sorry Miss Haru,” the woman sniffed, drawing Haru’s attention,” I should have been more careful, you got hurt-.”

“Stop that,” Haru interjected, gripping the other’s shoulders, “you stop that right now, Miss Noelle. That thing can’t hurt me in ways that matter, and I would protect you again in a heartbeat. You’re the most important one here.”

Noelle stared up at her, and Haru briefly panicked as she saw the starstruck look appear in her eyes. Cursed herself for being too much like-.

“Chicky!” Muta slid suddenly into Haru’s line of sight, coming from a different path of the maze.

“Muta!”

“Chicken Wings has got its attention, but we gotta move,” he bellowed, rushing up and pushing the women along.

Then Toto flashed overhead. Then the beast crashed through the maze and found them again.

“Oh fuck.”

***

“Shit! Fuck! God dammit! Fucking fuck fuck!”

Another book crashed against the wall, falling to the floor and slumping with its other abused brethren. The other two in the room didn’t say anything, just watched their de facto leader curse and destroy her home.

At least, her forced home.

“Haru…” Toto spoke up, softly. A book thumped near his head. He had the decency to flinch just a little.

“Don’t even try, Toto!” she screamed, fisting the cloth of her long skirt between her hands. Tears streamed down her cheeks, matting the soft brown fur. She wiped at the furiously, releasing the now-wrinkled skirt.

Muta crossed the room without a word, pulling her roughly into his arms. She didn’t fight the hold, sinking into it with a choked back sob. He rubbed circles into her back, humming lightly until she could breath a little easier.

“I can’t… He’s gone… How do I-”

“I know kiddo,” he interrupted, “I know.”

***

“Oh,” she mumbled, pulling her hand away. It came back red.

Panic or bile rose in her throat. She couldn’t tell which. She looked up at the others. They were shouting. Calling. Baron looked so scared. She gave a loopy smile. Giggled, because what else could she do?

“Well, that’s not good.”

***

She settled into routine. Easy enough.

Wake up. Dress. Tea. Paperwork. Read. Attend to clients. Drink. Sleep.

It was a pattern, an easy dance she knew the steps by heart. She was just missing a partner.

But she couldn’t stop.

The Bureau needed someone.

She just didn’t want it to be her.

***

She made the mistake of changing into lighter clothes when she became too hot. His breath caught in his throat, scanning over the myriad of scars she’d gotten over their adventures.

“Oh, right,” she laughed, tugging her shorts down in the hopes it’d hide everything, “it’s pretty surprising to see.”

“You’re… So delicate, Haru,” he breathed out, touching the scar she’d gotten from the Devil’s claws slashing her back., though his eyes were glued to twisting flesh of her thigh. When the dragon decided she’d make for a good snack.

“Comes with being human,” she replied, shivering as he pulled his hand away. Her own hand ran up her arm, feeling the bumps and odd feeling flesh.

“Right.”

She didn’t like the look on his face.

***

“Well, case closed,” she declared, dropping the file into the stack with finality.

Next followed the clunk of a wine bottle onto the desk. Her desk, she had to remind herself. The original wasn’t coming back anytime soon. So, hers from now on.

She poured into her tea cup, swallowing a mouthful of milky tea and wine. It was disgusting, but she couldn’t be bothered to get another glass. She only had two of them left, after all these years. Curious dogs, natural catastrophes, and Muta to be blamed for her losses.

She sank back in the chair, rubbing at her temples in the hopes it would spare her the migraine. Immortal lifespan, mortal aches and pains. They just couldn’t haunt her like they did before.

“To another helped client,” she toasted the air, which quickly began to fill with the sounds of a commotion. She grimaced, turning the chair away from the door and raising her feet on the desk. Not her division.

“To another year of searching,” she finished. Another mouthful. And the same tolerance for alcohol after all these years. It was a special occasion tonight. The first in a long time she didn’t wake up and forget where she was.

The commotion grew louder outside.

***

“You’re going to need to be more specific, lass,” the witch grumbled, his eyes narrowed.

She slammed her fist on the table, standing to pace.

“I told you! Baron took me to Castle Wyvern. He pinned me with his spell, then summoned the Devil. The Devil came-!”

“I heard you the first time and every single time after, missy!” the witch shouted, “What I’m missing is what did this Baron ask for?”

“Look at me! He must have wished for me to be a Creation like him!”

“Did he wish for you to be a Creation, or have a Creation’s immortality?”

She stopped.

***

“Miss Haru?” the client, a little boy named Bertrand, asked her.

She stopped to look over at him, pausing in pouring the hot chocolate. He looked around the Bureau in wonder, before meeting her eyes again. He still was nervous around her. She couldn’t blame him. She still wasn’t used to the… New situation she was in.

“What’s up, sweets?” she prompted, plopping a snowflake shaped marshmellow in the drink.

“How’d you start the Cat Bureau? What’d you think of to give you that idea?”

She clenched her cup tightly, nails cracking into the porcelain. At least it wasn’t the… Other set.

***

The commotion grew louder outside, and Muta suddenly burst through the doors.

“Oh, don’t tell me I missed greeting another client,” Haru groaned, half out of exhaustion of the massive amount of cases lately, half out of disappointment of losing a chance to save whoever was out there from being dragged into the other Bureau members’ disputes.

“It ain’t a client, Chicky,” Muta panted, blocking the doorway, “not unless we’re taking ghosts for clients.”

“Ghosts?” Haru barked out a laugh, swirling the wine and tea combination still in her cup.

***

“I can’t risk losing her, even if it means I can never find her! Just give her everything!”

“How noble, knick-knack. Those your terms?”

“Yes. You will give her everything. Do you swear on that?”

“Every damn day.”

***

“Ghosts are like relatives, Muta, honestly,” she laughed at first, before it fell into almost disappointed whining. Still swirling that tea cup, hoping to keep herself from seeing her reflection.

“Chicky-”

***

“I didn’t actually start the Cat Bureau, Bertrand.”

“But you’re in charge of it?”

“Mmhmm, the one who created the Cat Bureau, well…”

***

“Once you let them in, Muta, Muta, dearest Muta, you just can’t get rid of them.”

“Chicky-!”

“Oh honestly, calm down. This wouldn’t be the first time we’ve had a ghost at the Sanctuary. Certainly enough of them here in this house. What did they say?”

***

“I inherited it from them.”

“Did they die?”

***

Forest was unfamiliar. Forest was cold.

Forest was pressed against his cheek.

Part of him told him that he should be concerned.

That this wasn’t where he was supposed to be.

He just didn’t know who “he” was.

***

“No. Maybe. I don’t know.”

***

“Chicky, it’s-!”

“Hello?” a voice asked, a head poking around Muta. The tea cup clattered against the desk, ruining the paperwork she’d spent all night doing.

Ginger hair, dark freckled face, so obviously not from around here.

Mint green eyes.

“I’m looking for the Cat Bureau? I was hoping I could get-.”

“Name,” she hissed. Wood splintered under her nails. “What’s your name?!”

He jerked back, confused and afraid.

***

“Who were they? What was their name? Are they that cat in the painting?”

“Oh no, that was someone else. But his name was…”

***

“Humbert. Humbert von Gikkingen”

#tcr #the cat returns #tcr secret santa 2019 #tcr secret santa #tcr au #tcrmommabear writes #tcrmommabear posts #dun dun dun!!!#i have no clue how baron found his way back to the cat bureau #but hes been alive and looking the same human shape for a long time #so something told him he was weird #ive only had bertrand for one prompt #but if anything happened to him id kill everyone in the room and myself #deadbonessinderhellaton #i hope you enjoyed!#cw swearing #i know you prefer that be tagged

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iris-writes-things · 5 years

Text

Two Guys and a Baby: Day 7 part 1

Read on AO3, FF.net or under the cut, or read up to 2 chapters ahead as a $1 Patreon patron!

You smoked to hide your shaking fingers. You wore sunglasses to hide the fact that the very sight of his shining smile made you tear up. You dressed in black to mourn something that never was, but could have been. Should have been. You got up and tried again.

Or, Crowley asks Ezra on a date. But not that kind of date.

Chapter 9 of 20 Ongoing 2700 words Romance/Humor

That morning, Adam didn’t wake to bright rays of sunshine warming his soft cheeks, nor did he wake from his internal clock telling him it was time to get up and give Crowley an earful about requiring breakfast ASAP.

Instead, he woke from sweet tones coming from Crowley’s ancient tape deck.

‘I can dim the lights and sing you songs full of sad things…’

This was because Crowley was really much better at brainstorming when he was in the right mood, and nothing quite set the mood like just the right Queen song. After all, Queen had at least one song for every possible human emotion, so desperate times often called for Best of Queen.

‘We can do the tango just for two…’

His mum had given him the cassette tape on his tenth birthday and he had been over the moon. They didn’t have much to spend at the time for reasons Crowley would rather not think about and his mother had been too busy for much of anything for those same reasons, but when he woke up that fateful morning in 1997 he found a neatly wrapped, brittle plastic box sitting on his nightstand and the gesture had meant the world to him. It was in those years that Crowley learned that true love isn’t proclaimed; it’s shown. Not in grand gestures or melodrama, but in the mundane. In a birthday present waiting for you on your nightstand, in packed lunches sitting in the fridge, in bringing your crush chocolate croissants after a massive cock-up.

‘I can serenade and gently play on your heartstrings…’

But as effective as actions were in expressing one’s soul crushing love for another, they were terrifying. They had terrified. Two years ago, he had almost kissed the love of his life, but he’d hesitated. He didn’t know if Ezra wanted it too. He hesitated and was met with Ezra’s painfully blue eyes darting around the bar. He was nervous. He was shaking. And then he paid the tab and booked it out of there. How do you come back from that?

‘Be your valentino just for you…’

The answer to that was, you didn’t. You tore down everything you had painstakingly built up in one fell swoop, and then pathetically, when everything slotted together again, you started pathetically building things back up again, like some kind of wonky Lego castle. You smoked to hide your shaking fingers. You wore sunglasses to hide the fact that the very sight of his shining smile made you tear up. You dressed in black to mourn something that never was, but could have been. Should have been.

‘Ooh love, ooh loverboy…’

You got up and tried again.

Ezra had always had a way with the written word. Not so much the spoken word. This was why he had Gabriel for communicating with potential publishers, and his pseudonym to hide behind. It was why he couldn’t convince his family that writing novels was a perfectly respectable pastime, and that, despite not being the most virtuous, Anthony was actually a genuinely good person.

‘Dearest Anthony…’

But what good were words, even the written ones if you couldn’t find the right ones? Because how did you tell a man you’ve known for a decade that you’ve been in love with him all that time? How would he explain that he hadn’t told him earlier? Why he had wasted their collective time by being a coward? It didn’t bear thinking about; it just wasn’t justifiable.

‘I’m sorry about the way I’ve failed to act on my feelings before…’

He grunted as he hoisted a stack of books from the box in the doorway of his shop and placed it on the new arrivals table, rearranging it as he tried to worry about other things. Things had been slow for the shop lately, but he’d been keeping afloat well enough. The recession hadn’t forced him out of business; the dawn of the ereader hadn’t, either; a slow month was nothing. People would be gearing up for their beach vacations any time now and his books would sell like anything. Well, his books… He chuckled. It would still take well over a year until his, or rather, Aziraphale’s book would hit shelves, which was a tremendous relief. Sure, he had read the book and project Anathema had left at the shop, but he would have to revise almost the entire story, especially now that he knew who his subject’s last surviving descendants were. He wanted to do right by Anathema, her mother and Anthony.

‘The simple facts are these:’

Everything always seemed to gravitate back to him, like the universe revolved around him. Creative Anthony, who found joy in drawing things for him and, once upon a time many years ago, would sneakily sketch him. Happy Anthony, who made his chest swell and burst with butterflies with every dorky, snarky, nervous laugh of his.

‘You are my sun; beautiful, bright and blinding. You caught me in your orbit many years ago and I would be forever unable to escape. However, a satellite,’ no, that’s not right, ‘a moon of all of my accumulated fears eclipsed your light that warmed my world…’ No. No, that won’t do, either.

Ezra wondered briefly if his books, should they suddenly become sentient (he hoped they wouldn’t), would be jealous of his feelings for the other man. In fact, he hoped they would be happy for him, and quickly decided that they would be more than okay with a break from his fussing, but his admittedly odd train of thought was interrupted by the jingling of the bell over the door.

‘Dearest Anthony, I love—’

“Ezra Fell, you absolute genius, you’ve done it again!” Gabriel cried as he strode into the shop.

“Ex-excuse me?” he stammered.

“The publisher. They want your book. Turns out ‘medieval, strong female-led with a touch of the supernatural’ is exactly what they were looking for. They agreed to all of our terms in regards to royalties and compensation.”

A feeling of pride swelled within him. His book. Exactly what they were looking for. He couldn’t help but grin as even Gabriel seemed to smile down on him. “Well, did they give you any notes?”

“They wanted more from the witch’s perspective, which I told them you can do,” Gabriel started.

“Yes, of course, that will be no problem at all,” Ezra confirmed excitedly.

“And they want you to do some public appearances to promote the book. Mostly just signings.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Ezra, it’s in the conditions.”

“I don’t care what’s in the conditions, I won’t do it!” Ezra cried. Just now noticing that he was growing slightly lightheaded, he drew in slow, deep breaths to steady himself. His mouth set into a thin line. Gabriel frowned at him.

“If this is still about your family,” the American tried. “I suggest you let that go. You’re forty-one, what can they do to you? Really?”

Ezra shrugged but looked down in defeat. There was nothing they could logically do to him, and yet he was afraid. The feeling of pride he felt before was as good as gone. Drained completely by the idea of having to be publicly known.

He didn’t write for the attention, for the fame, even less so for the fortune. He wrote because he loved it and there was no other option for him than to write. “I just don’t like being in the spotlight…” he mumbled, and Gabriel would have to take his word for it.

“Okay, fine, I’ll try to negotiate it out of the conditions.”

“Thank you,” Ezra mumbled faintly.

“Right, so, in other news,” Gabriel said, trying to turn the mood around. “Ever found out if ‘he was really into you’, or whatever that silly magazine said?”

Ugh. This again. Ezra buried his face in his hands, not really wanting to answer, but he nodded nonetheless.

“So? What did he say? Did you ask him out?”

He shook his head, face still firmly planted in the palms of his hands.

“Oh my god, you’re unbelievable. You asked him if he liked you, didn’t you?”

He shook his head again.

“Then how? How do you know?” Gabriel asked, some exasperation in his voice.

Finally, Ezra looked up, frowning. “His niece told me, alright? She told me all sorts of things. That he loves me. That he’s loved me for about a decade, and, you know, I’ve loved him just as long. But she said he loved me too much to want to risk our friendship, which nearly did go down the drain the last time we almost acted on our feelings. And then—”

The bell over the door jingled.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Speak of the devil and he appears.

In the doorway of the shop stood Anthony. Adam on one arm, a carton with two paper coffee cups in the other hand, and a paper bag clamped between his upper arm and his chest. Ezra recognized the logo on the bag from a few days prior. It was undoubtedly filled with more chocolate croissants and other delectable baked goods as their smell slowly but surely filled the shop.

Ezra glanced up at Gabriel, whose eyes were fixed intently on Anthony. He didn’t show much of a reaction, but his lips didn’t curl down in disdain. He quickly glanced at Ezra, quirked his lips, then turned his gaze back to Anthony.

“You must be ‘him’, then?” Gabriel asked, extending his hand to Crowley, who gestured his full hands. Adam recoiled slightly.

“I must be ‘who’, then?”

“Ezra’s—”

“Artist!” Ezra interrupted. He got up from the stool behind the counter and hurried up to them, taking the carton and paper bag out of Anthony’s hold. “He’s the artist I want to make the cover. Anthony Crowley.”

Finally, Gabriel shook his hand. “Your reputation precedes you.”

“I mean, I guess,” Anthony almost stammered. “I hope Ezra hasn’t been overselling my work too much.”

“Not at all. I look forward to reviewing your portfolio with Ezra and the publisher. Anyway, I gotta fly. Ezra, we’ll discuss those re-negotiations later. You gentlemen have a nice day.”

Anthony turned and stared at the man as he walked by the windows, before looking to Ezra and mumbling “Well, he’s a character, isn’t he? Your agent?”

“How did you know? You’ve never met before.”

“No, but you’ve talked about him before. ‘This unnatural glint of perpetual jolliness in his eyes’.” Anthony impeccably imitated his tone and speech. “Or something, you said. Well, he fits the bill,” he mumbled.

A shudder ran up Ezra’s spine.

“See? Gives even you the chills.”

Adam giggled.

Ezra shrugged. “Perhaps that’s how he does his job so well. Anyway, will you have some of this today? I’d feel horrible to eat all of it,” he said as he held up the bag.

“If you insist.” Anthony waved his hand noncommittally.

“I do.”

He walked over to the counter and put down the carton with the cups to open the bag and see what’s inside, but not before he breathed in the rich, decadent scent of the food inside. There were definitely chocolate croissants in there.

Crowley couldn’t help but smile at the look of sheer delight on Ezra’s face as he dug into the pastries. There was a child-like sort of honesty about him that made him such an open book. When Ezra liked something, you knew, and if Ezra hated something, you knew. Currently, as far as Crowley could tell, he was on cloud nine, and therefore, so was Crowley.

This was much to the frustration of young Adam, for who Crowley had been picking bits off a regular croissant, feeding them to him. He made a noise.

“Ngk.” Crowley tore his gaze away from Ezra to turn to Adam. “Sorry to keep you waiting, your highness,” he mumbled as he tore off another bit of the croissant and fed it to Adam’s waiting mouth before taking a larger chunk for himself. He hadn’t realized he’d been staring until Adam made him painfully aware.

Painfully aware of the eyes burning holes in him, Ezra nibbled on one of the chocolate croissants. Anthony was definitely staring at him. There was no denying it, as alien as it felt. Ezra wasn’t much of a looker and he was well aware of that fact. He was never stared at, no, ogled so openly… so… so… obscenely. Did Anthony always look at him like this? How had he not noticed before?

It wasn��t a bad feeling per se, but it was quite overwhelming to experience for the first time. Ezra wasn’t sure how much he could take of it in the long run. He had to speak up. Had to say something. Come on Ezra, he thought, how hard could it be? He may be the man that you fancy an awful lot, but he’s also your friend, and friends trust each other and tell each other the truth. He took a sip of his lukewarm cocoa to calm his nerves.

‘He cares enough about you not to want to risk what you have.’

Then what kind of friend did that make Ezra, who would give anything for Anthony to be his?

There had been a change. Something was bothering Ezra, Crowley could tell. Even when he’d been so happy just moments before. Something would have to be done about that. He gave Adam the final bit of the croissant and settled him down in the windowseat before getting up and walking up to the counter. Whatever it was that was dragging Ezra down would have to square the fuck up.

“Angel, what’s wrong?”

‘Your staring makes me nervous,' Ezra wanted to say, but didn’t.

“There’s nothing wrong,” Ezra mumbled instead, trying to keep his cool. He swiveled in his stool and wiped his hands on his trousers. They were growing sweaty.

“Are you sure?” Anthony asked. He tilted his head. With his dark clothes and shining, amber eyes, he looked all the more like a concerned black cat. “There’s nothing I can do to make it better?”

Ezra felt a blush creep to his face and he quickly broke eye contact. “S-silly Anthony, you know you don’t have to do anything for me. You know I’ll be quite alright on my own.”

This, Crowley doubted.

“Ezra, what would you say if I, after this whole business with Adam, took you out for dinner? Properly. Like back in the day. We could go to the Ritz,” Crowley suggested as casually as he could. Ezra’s gaze snapped back up at him.

“How would you— Can you even—” Ezra stammered, but finally summarized his thoughts in a single “Why?”

Crowley’s gaze turned towards the floor. “Because I want to make things better with you. I went too fast, I hurt you, and then I didn’t even call the next day.”

Ezra took a shaky breath as he tried to formulate an answer. “Well, it’s not like I contacted you either…” he trailed off.

“Well, yes, but I scared you off—”

“You didn’t! I—” Ezra started, but he caught himself, glanced further away and took a moment to reorganize his thoughts. “Alright, perhaps in that moment, you did. But… It was just, you know…” He gestured his hands wildly in hopes of illustrating the point he was trying to make. Anthony nodded, but his eyes told Ezra that it didn’t really land. “I’d very much like for things to go back to the way they were before.” Ezra said, lying, but knowing it would keep them within the safety of their comfort zone, he settled for it. “I’ll go to the Ritz with you after all this.”

Anthony smiled the brightest he had all day.

“On the condition that you let me return the favour some time after. It’s a real pleasure just seeing you again, and if you’re going to treat me to thank me for barely helping you at all, I feel like I should get to do the same.”

Anthony looked taken aback, but tried very hard not to show it. It didn’t work out. “Sure?”

Ezra smiled. “Good. Then it’s a date.”

#fanfic #Good Omens #Ineffable Husbands #human AU

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missjackil · 5 years

Text

My 14x17 Opinion

Game Night

This was the first new episode since “The Announcement” and I have to say I was putting off writing it. I usually post these the day after, but I procrastinated so it’s a bit late. So forgive my butt-hurt tardiness and let's have at it.

I enjoyed this episode, though it wasn't without some issues. I must say that I was pleased that it wasn't as Sam-lite as I thought it would be from the promo pics, trailer, and knowing Jared didn't work a lot that week, I will always want for more Sam in an episode, but all his parts were necessary and high quality in this one, so I'm not angry at all.

We start the episode with Donatello making cookies, singing Raindrops are Fallin’ on my Head, which made me smile. It made me think of Butch Cassiday and The Sundance Kid and I love that movie, and if J2 ever want to play the leads in a remake, I would be willing to pay for it myself!

Donny gets interrupted by the door, and we know this is a problem because its the first 5 minutes of SPN, let's be honest. As soon as I see the bad guy’s wedding ring, I think “Shit... here comes Nick”. I thought he was gonna kill him and I'm glad he didn't. I like Donny, he looks like my dad. 😊

Back at the Bunker, the fam is getting ready for “Winchester Game Night” and Dean is playing Mouse Trap, and having no luck getting it to work. I had that game as a kid too and was never able to get it to work either, but it was fun putting it together! I did think it was a little sad but fitting, that Dean would have played that game as a 4 yr old, but leave it to John and Mary to give Dean a game made for older kids, that never worked out the way it was supposed to and had too many small parts he could choke on. (the irony is not lost on me)

Mary and Jack are in the kitchen. I could literally almost smell the Jiffy Pop popcorn. A Saturday night staple at my house growing up (any of you out there ever taste that greasy salt left on the sides of the foil pan? Good stuff!) and Mary starts in with the questions for Jack. I got a kick out of him telling her its annoying, and her face after. It’s ok Mary, he’s fine, he’s just a teenager now. Something I guess she never got to experience from the adult side.

Sam is out getting pizza, and all the times they’ve had pizza, I never really saw what Sam likes on his. Apparently both he and Dean like lots of pepperoni. Good choice boys! The joy is short-lived (of course) by Donatello’s call, and Dean and Mary go off to help. I loved Sam sitting there researching. I have always loved his look of interest and concentration during these times. Smart!Sam moment #1 he figures out the language is ancient Hebrew, #2 he has the moment of realization that he knows it’s from the Bible, and knows what chapter and verse. (demerits for the writers though for not knowing Peter is in the New Testament and is in Ancient Greek, not Hebrew, but kudos for Sam/Jared for at least knowing the book is located near the back of The Bible)

Mom and Dean in the car. Now we have the talk about how wrong she knows she’s been but how appreciative she is to have this time with him and Sam. Uhoh... sounds like lines typically given to a character who is soon to be killed off? Hmmm we’ll see. Soon they arrive at Donny’s to find Nick. He says he's poisoned Donny and to save him, they have to help him. He wants to talk.

Back at the bunker, violent rage!Sam awaits!! GOD that gave me tingles in the best way! I loved Dean leading Nick down the hall in cuffs, in slow motion as if leading him to his execution, and Sam standing there with his chest puffed out like a friggin’ bulldozer, and the snarl and slam attack against the wall!! (hand me that towel, please??) Dean backs Sam off, lots of brother touching going on, but we need intel, we can't kill him yet.

Now Sam is in self-loathing mode.... he thinks everything is his fault. So many people dying because of him. This is gonna be a big issue soon, I promise. Mom talks Sam off the self-deprecating ledge and tells him he gave Nick another chance because he’s a good man and that's why she’s so proud of him. Sam softens up into the sweetest “aww shucks ma” smile and I want to hug him💕 also, still lines are being spoken by mom that are synonymous with being killed off.

Now, I procrastinated talking about Cas and Anael because the whole thing was boring. I'm not a wife hater but at least make her necessary if you’re going to cast her. I was ok about her role as Sister Jo for Devil’s Bargain but she hasn't been necessary since. Cas wasn't even necessary in this episode. We knew he was hiding the fact that Jack killed the snake, and there are probably 1000 other ways they could have reminded us that the Samulet is still around and maybe they can use it, than for him to find a similar one in the thrift shop or whatever that place was. I dug Methuzula though, he was the oldest dude in the Bible. He wasn’t an angel, for any of you worried about him liking lasagna or why he couldn't just smite Cas... its because he's HUMAN just extremely old.

On to more interesting things.

Nick wants to talk to Jack. I was not pleased with Nick referring to Jack as his son. Im not 100% convinced that the writer (and all involved really) remembered that Jack isnt Nick’s son, but added that as a note of empathy Nick has for Lucifer, you’d THINK someone, particularly Jack would say “Im not your son” ?? but anyway, he gives intel to Jack and also gets his blood (dun dun dunnnn)

Sam is again a smarty pants and knows the antidote for Thalium is Prussian Blue (makes note) and figures he can hack the live feed (brains are so sexy) I also love that Sam’s word is the go word. So many more decisions are made because Sam thinks its the best option than he's ever given for in the fandom. So Sam and Dean take Nick with them to find Donny.

I really love the broments in this part. Dean tells Nick if he tries anything funny, Sam will shoot him. “And if anything happens to me....” “Sam will shoot me” “To start!” says Sam... because if he hurts Dean, Sam isnt letting him off that easy. But in true SPN form, as soon as Sam and Dean are separated, shit goes south.

Mom calls Sam and lets him know Donny was shot up with Angel grace, as Jack figured out, Nick was playing them. Now the fight between Sam and Nick ensues! Nick tells Sam why he used Donatello, which was to bring Lucifer back, “You can't, he’s dead he’s in the Empty” Sam says but this show’s self-awareness gets me sometimes lol Nick’s like “Cmon Sam you know no one stays dead anymore” and Sam starts kicking his ass.

Now, I have already seen a million of you whine and complain that Sam didn’t kill Nick. It’s almost as though some of you have never met Sam Winchester. Of course Sam could have killed Nick, and most of us wish he did, but Sam has stopped himself from killing humans before. He stopped himself with Jake in AHBL and also with Toni in 12x01. Unfortunately it always bites him in the ass. Could it be that Sam thinks if he can kill a human with his bare hands that he��s a monster? This isn’t bad writing folks, this is Sam’s character.

Nick takes advantage of Sam’s hesitation and starts nailing him with a rock. Spewing crap about Sam being Lucifer’s Perfect vessel and such.... this can only mean that issue will be coming up soon! Sam gets in the car and starts laying on the horn for Dean, calling out to him... Dean hears Sam is in trouble, enough playing around here time to kill some demons.

When he gets to Sam. he sees he’s badly injured. Sam can hardly hold on to consciousness, protective!dean kicks in! Apply preasure to the blled, call 911, call mom. Now check for brain damage and play a counting game with Sam This hurt my feels so much, it made it feel so much more serious than all the other head injuries he’s sustained. Dean and his caring big brother smile and light hearted speech so Sam doesnt panic just kills me in the best way!! Sam tries to count with him a little and breaks into “You always put me first... your whole life” and manages to muster a little smile. Dean knows Sam believes he’s checking out, and you see the fear all over Dean’s face as Sam fades away. (OMG these 2!! Every freakin time!!)

Meanwhile, Mary and Jack found Nick and he has summoned Lucifer and just about to take him in again (Lucifer looked pretty cool,,, gotta say) and Jack zaps Lucifer back into the rift (no not forever guys... cmon) and starts torturing Nick. Mary kinda flips out telling Jack to stop. He’s contorting his hand, burning him from the inside out... not simply killijng him. Mary is full on worried now. Jack stops and Nick is laying on the floor. Mary is in shock and tells Jack to go help Sam, He heals him and Dean cant even hide his relief as he turns away to catch his breath.

Now Jack returns to Mary who is more than worried about how Jack was torturing Nick. We know the Winchesters dont mind killing, but draw the line at torture. However, Mary stupidly poked the bear. She could have just kept herself and Jack calm and talked to the boys later, but she poked and poked till Jack freaked out. Though I am wondering if Jack was also hearing Lucifer when he was shouting “Leave me alone!!” But in any regard, he looked at Mary and something happened. Fade to black.

Aside from the Cas/Anael part, I really enjoyed this episode. A few issues yes, but it hit most of the marks needed for me to enjoy an episode. Ive already rewatched it twice and will again and again.

On a scale of Bloodlines to Lebanon, I give this a strong 7.5 without the Cas/Anael bit it would have been an easy 8.

#14x17 spoilers #game night #my opinion #i dug this one #love this 2nd half a lot

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bethhxrmon · 6 years

Text

All I Ask of You Pt. 9

“Plastic don’t shine, glitter don’t shine, rhinestones don’t shine the way you do.” -”I See Stars” from Mean Girls

Pairing: Peter Parker x Female OC

Word Count: 3,065

Warnings: I don’t think there are any, just some pining

Summary: It’s audition day and now it’s almost Christmas time.

A/N: This chapter is kind of filler, but it also has some serious setting up. I may or may not be posting a little something else this week too!

MASTERLIST

Playlist

The annoying tone of Annie’s alarm went off, causing her to jolt awake as she checked her phone. Looking at the date, her heart nearly jumped from her chest. It had suddenly become Wednesday, the last day of school before winter break, and the same day she was going to audition. A black polka dot dress hung on her doorknob, something that both she and Harper had agreed on when Annie called the previous night, freaking out over the audition.

Though, she should have gotten more sleep rather than worrying about if she was going to be able to belt out her high notes properly without her voice giving out and cracking on her, Annie simply couldn’t help herself. When it came to theater, she had far too much to prove. She had simply practiced too much and too hard to fall short in the fashion department. So despite the cold wind that Annie could see blowing snow around when she looked down from her window, she still pulled on the dress. If she wanted to be Maria, she needed to look the part.

Her dad had already left, Annie could tell from how the coffee was made, but the pot was half empty. The shower could be heard in the background as she shoved the homework she’d managed to slog over the previous night into her bag. She scarfed down a bagel before looking at the time and pulling on a jacket, leaving the apartment.

“Why’re you wearing a dress? It’s freezing!” Ned exclaimed as he, Annie, and Peter got off the subway.

Annie gave a small shrug, “Why aren’t you wearing a dress, hm?”

“Because I’m not crazy, there’s snow outside,” Ned replied, holding onto one of the straps on the ceiling.

Annie held onto Ned’s backpack, “Okay, fine… I wanna look good for the audition today, you know? This is my only chance to prove myself and show off and, well I’m not sure if it’s gonna work.

“You’ll get it. I mean, you gotta, you’ve been thinking about nothing else,” Peter pointed out.

Ned smirked, “That’s not the only reason you think she’ll get it.”

“Hm? What would that be?” Annie asked, turning to the other male.

Peter’s face tinted pink before Ned started speaking, “Because he thinks that you look-”

“The part… yeah, you look like a Maria, you know?” Peter said, glaring at Ned pointedly.

Annie rolled her eyes, “Come on you two, I’m trying to stay chilled out for today.”

“Well, good luck with that, I feel like if you were worried for our auditions, then you’re gonna be an absolute nightmare today,” Ned pointed out with a small laugh.

Annie huffed a bit, “That is not true. I’m confident in myself… I just wasn’t sure what to expect from the two of you.”

Though it was difficult to not see how Annie’s shoulders seemed to slump despite herself. Her worries were simple, she had worked too hard for too long to not get exactly what she wanted. What if that wasn’t enough? What if she couldn’t ever be enough in anything? No, she knew that she needed to toughen up and completely ignore everything that had been holding her back earlier.

“You’ve been kinda quiet, you sure you’re good?” Peter asked as they walked into the school.

Annie nodded, straightening her back, “Yep, I have to be. I mean, you and Ned were just fine. I can do it too, this is a science school, there’s no way any of the girls here are better than I am.”

“Well, yeah… about me though, I’m not so sure the teachers are gonna, well I’m not sure they’ll cast me right,” Peter started as they headed to their first classes.

Annie laughed a bit, “What do you mean by that? Of course they’ll cast you right, that’s the point of them auditioning you… and you killed it.”

She hadn’t asked him about that night after the movie. It seemed like he wasn’t repeating the same actions that he had done. A couple of days after, she’d gotten her jacket back. Annie had only admitted it to Harper, but she hadn’t worn it since because it smelled like him and it was rather comforting. Still, that night felt like it had been forever ago, and she didn’t even know how to approach the subject. She had simply told herself she had just been emotional and was looking to the wrong places.

“That’s not quite what I’m meaning…” Peter trailed off.

She cocked her head a bit, “Then what do you mean?”

“Um… well… uh I’ll tell you later, don’t worry about it. Do you want me and Ned to watch your audition?” he asked as they walked into their class.

Annie nodded, “Yeah, of course! I really need you guys, you’re both the closest friends I have here.”

Getting through her classes without overthinking the audition that was to come. She knew the song like the back of her hand, there was no way she could mess it up. At the same time, what if her voice cracked when she belted out the higher notes? No, there was no way she could mess up like that. Not after everything she had managed to do back in Seattle. Only, things had been different back then.

She had been great the previous year, sure, but she was so much different. Had she been the same person she was when she started out as a freshman, there was no way she would have been around Ned and Peter as much. Her image had mattered just a bit too much, but she also had so much more conviction back then.

Her classes had gone far too fast for her to really think about anything that had happened. Not to mention the stress of just finishing up her finals. Though, it was thanks to Peter that her physics work wasn’t completely hopeless. The rest of her classes weren’t unbearable, but physics just left her with some sort of mental block. That was how it had always been, and she never decided to question it.

At the same time, it was all she could do to not ask to be excused and get to a practice room so she could go through her song just one more time. Even Michelle wasn’t letting her do anything like that, knowing that Annie would probably sing until her throat was raw from belting. Then, she would end up being useless during her audition and there would be no way in hell that she could ever be Maria.

Her actual theatre class appeared to be at a standstill. Some of the girls who had never seemed to care before were suddenly begging for more time. Those were the ones now taking practice rooms and singing until their voices cracked, unable to hit the high notes. Annie hoped that all the time she had spent around her teacher getting advice had been enough. If nothing else, the teacher knew her name. Then again, so did all of her other teachers.

Finishing the school day off with her last physics class of the semester, Annie’s knee was bobbing up and down. The actual test had been the previous class period, and that left Annie sitting as quiet as ever, knowing that once the bell rang she would have to walk straight to the auditorium. How had she managed this the year before?

“Hey, remember all those times you told me ‘those other girls ain’t shit’?” Peter asked, looking at her.

Annie shrugged a bit, “I shouldn’t be cocky, that’s how you fuck yourself over, right?”

“But were you cocky before?” he asked quietly, looking like he was writing or drawing something.

She frowned a bit, “I was a grade-a bitch… like, Flash but even worse if we’re being honest.”

“Well, that worked out for you, yeah?”

“I mean, it depends on what you mean by ‘worked out’, but kind of.”

“I just think… y-you’ve done too much to stop thinking you know what you’re doing. I-I mean, come on, you went to a performing arts school, yeah?”

Annie nodded a little, “Yeah… but that doesn’t make me a genius by any means.”

“You don’t have to be a genius, you just need to know enough, and I think you do,” Peter told her, his chocolate brown eyes meeting hers.

She sighed a bit, “Well, you’re right… actually, really right. You’re still staying around to watch, though, right?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course. Unless you don’t want that, then I-I can just go off the my internship.”

“Please tell me you’re getting some of Christmas off.”

“Y-yeah, Mr. Stark would probably like a few days for just himself.”

“Then we’re hanging out, and you’re not getting out of it.”

The bell rang and Annie got up, smoothing out the skirt of her dress. She knew what she was doing, she always had. Pretending like she might not be good enough wasn’t an option. Above all else, Annie needed to prove that she wasn’t wasting her time when it came to acting. That this was what she was good at and that it was what she really loved more than anything else.

Thankfully, she wasn’t the first girl to be going, she was the second. The poor girl who had gone before her was nothing but a confidence boost to Annie. That girl had sang what was arguably the pitchiest rendition of “Popular” that she had ever heard. If every other girl was like that, then Annie knew that she was going to be a shoe-in. There was nothing to worry about and there never had been anything worth worrying about when it came to auditioning in a school full of people who obviously spent more time programming computers than memorizing their lines.

“Annika Hardwick, come on up,” Ms. Yancy called.

Annie walked onto the stage, her black flats not making a sound on the auditorium stage. The audience was lit up just enough that she could see Peter and Ned sitting to the side, a few rows behind the teachers. Though the stage lights felt so warm against her tanned skin, but it only made her stand up straighter.

The teacher cleared her throat, “You are auditioning for the part of Maria, correct?”

“Yes,” Annie answered, feeling her heartbeat increasing.

Was asking her friends to watch her a good idea? Maybe having Ned there was, but she had different feelings towards Peter than she did for Ned. Ned was a friend, someone she could talk to about anything without it getting awkward. When it came to Peter, there was something that she never bothered to address, but it left her reading into every moment of silence just a little bit too much.

“Well, your pianist is ready, so whenever you’re ready,” Ms. Yancy told her.

Annie blinked and took a deep breath before nodding the pianist in, “We’ve done this all before, we were angels once, don’t you remember?”

As she started to sing, her nerves began to melt away. There wasn’t anyone in front of her, she was simply by herself. No one was around and no one could tell her that she was off at all. The only thing she heard was the piano playing the lilting melody. She didn’t even feel like herself, instead she felt like a young Russian girl who was singing about all of the good moments with the man she was so in love with. Never mind how that ended up changing by the end of the musical, she just needed to focus on this one moment.

“This winter sky, how can anyone sleep? There was never such a night before!” her voice swelled.

While she would never be able to admit it, she couldn’t stop thinking about that night when Peter talked to her. The night that left her wondering if he felt the same way she did. Only, she knew that it wouldn’t be right, being with him. Not if he didn’t even know she had powers or that she was actually a superhero. She couldn’t keep that from him if they were any closer. It was already difficult, lying to him and Ned all the time.

“You and I, you and I, you and I,” she belted out before cutting off the pianist with her hand closing, there was a pause that was filled with silence before she breathed again, “And no one else.”

Upon finishing, there wasn’t anything to be heard. Not that Annie had been expecting a standing ovation or anything like that, but she hoped that the teachers were impressed. She could feel the heat of the stage lights on her skin, and she could feel the sweat beading on her forehead.

“Very well done, we will have the cast list decided when you come back from break, happy holidays, Miss Hardwick,” Ms. Yancy said with a small smile.

Once Annie was back in the hallway, she was relieved to see Ned, but couldn’t help noticing that Peter had ran off. That was another reason they would probably never work out, he was constantly running off to that damned internship. Had he even stayed the whole song? Of course he had, right?

Ned hugged Annie, picking her up with ease, “That was great! You know that? That was fucking awesome and I need you to know that!”

“I hope so, I’ve been worried that my voice would crack towards the end there, but well, I guess it worked out,” she said as she was placed on the ground again, the pair heading out of the school.

Ned laughed a bit, “You hope so? It was easily the best thing I’d heard all day. You had nothing on the one girl who went before you, trust me.”

“I know that, but what about all the other girls who go after me?” she pointed out, pulling her hoodie out of her backpack and pulled it on over her dress.

Ned shrugged, “They must’ve ran off after they heard you give a kickass performance. They’ve got nothing on you, and don’t say I didn’t tell you when you get the lead.”

“You really think that?”

“I feel like modesty doesn’t work too well on you when you seem to know that it was a pretty great audition.”

“Well damn, okay, I’ll take your word for it,” she said with a small laugh.

“You should.”

That evening, Annie had many shirts beneath her White Swan hoodie and even another pair of leggings underneath her regular silver ones. With the weather getting colder and colder, she found herself wishing that she had a real suit with all kinds of technology behind it.

Of course, the moment she thought about technology, Annie felt someone tapping her on the back. She turned, about to energy blast the offender, but quickly stopped when she saw the all too familiar Spider-Man mask.

“Hey, you looked cold so I got you something,” the hero said, handing her a cup of hot chocolate.

Annie shook her head, “You really didn’t have to do that.”

“Yeah, I do, I know how cold it gets. So I’m just being a little helpful. Call it getting into the Christmas spirit,” Spider-Man replied.

She rolled her eyes, “I know you’re gonna say we should work together more-”

“It would be great! We would be able to fight all those bad guys together and- and you would have a better suit,” he pointed out.

Annie let out a sigh, “Well if you wanna stop the bad guys, there’s a guy shoplifting right there across the street.”

“Wait really?”

“Um… yeah, he’s literally running away, it’s so fucking obvious,” she said, starting to run for the guy.

Once she was close enough, she set up a barrier around the guy, keeping him from being able to run away. Then Spider-Man ran in right behind her and webbed his arms to the wall. Annie went up to the guy, finding small stocking stuffers in his pockets and beneath his hoodie.

“Please, please let me go, these are for my kids. I don’t make enough to get them gifts this year, but I- well I don’t need them knowing that,” the man said.

“That doesn’t mean you can just steal stuff, man,” Spider-Man said, crossing his arms, “You’re a criminal.”

Annie frowned, “Spidey, his kids, though.”

“No, no, I get it. I just don’t have the money, you know? But you guys do what you gotta do,” the man said, seeming resigned.

Annie shook her head, grabbing at the webbing, “No, you get that to your kids. Just don’t steal again. Now, I need you to hurry up outta here,” she said, blasting the webbing off from the wall.

“Thank you, thank you so much!” he said before continuing to run.

Annie held Spider-Man back, silently cursing herself because she knew that it wasn’t right, but she couldn’t help feeling for the poor man. Who knew what his life had been like? When she was certain that the man was out of sight, Annie dropped her powers.

“What the hell?! He was a bad guy, we’re supposed to stop guys like that,” he started.

Annie sighed, “I know, but he didn’t… if he had kids, well, how would you feel about seeing your dad get thrown into jail for Christmas?”

“But what if he’s done worse?”

“What if this is all that he’s gonna do?”

“Swan, I just, I don’t think you made the smartest choice here, and I can’t believe you would just stop me like that!” he replied as they walked.

She shrugged, “I felt bad, okay? Learning that your parents are shitty people sucks, I don’t care what age you are.”

“And you would know a lot about that?”

“Actually, yeah. So I’d know more about this situation than you ever would, okay? Okay.”

“Woah, Swan, I’m sorry you don’t have a great home life, but you can’t just let every criminal off the hook because they have lives.”

“Can’t I though? No one was hurt, he wasn’t going to hurt-”

“You don’t know that.”

“And neither do you. It wasn’t our place,” Annie insisted, “Now, I’m gonna run off and help some more people, and you’re gonna run off and stop following me for right now.”

Tag list: @flushings-here / @upsidedownparker / @gaypanda / @ijustdontknowsometimes / @lionsfandomsandbearsohmy / @thwipparker (just ask to be added to the tag list)

#peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfic #peter parker x oc #trans peter parker #trans spider-man #spider-man #spider-man x reader #spider-man x oc #spider-man: homecoming #mcu #marvel #writing #fanfic

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ninemoons42-lestallumhaven · 6 years

Text

(this is kind of sad, because the idea was a little sad to begin with. thanks to @milodrums for spurring me to write sad WOR Promnis, by sending me a link to this. thanks also to @makikoigami for hosting the writing sprint in which I drafted this.)

Quick Fic Pick 70: silver and ash

For once it’s a sound that forces him to swim up and out from the murky depths of sleep and the tangling cords of his nightmares, the low-level dread and the low-level wariness that he still can’t seem to shake off and that he’s almost accepted as the part of him that’s grown in the absence of the sun, in the absence of the stars, in the cold wash of the moon, and he opens his eyes and places his free hand over his heart. Presses the palm in over the weary too-tripping beat, the spiking pulse in his veins, and he feels that same pulse jump again in alarm when the bulb in the rust-eaten lamp next to his side of the bed sputters and throws the room into jittering shadows for only a moment.

The light that returns is a wan mockery of warm inviting gold, and he won’t ask for anything newer or better, because others need that better light, that brighter light. He can manage the semi-lit conditions of this falling-apart-at-the-seams camper for now. He can manage the spiderwebbing rays, the dust in the corners.

Soft complaining sound next to him: and Prompto reacts with all of his instincts. Hauls that wiry scarred form close. The circles he presses into the exposed skin of Ignis’s shoulder waver, and aren’t entirely perfectly shaped, and it’s still a surprise when that warmth seems to be enough, when the quiet broken notes falling from his lips seem to be enough. Some throwaway one-hit wonder that had been all the rage all those years ago, and why does he remember the tune and the words, why is there some part of his mind that won’t let the stale bubblegum-pop go? No one sings about hearts and stars and flowers any more.

Ugh, dark thoughts, he thinks, and he has to make an effort to push those away: so he presses his nose into the back of Ignis’s neck, and he draws in a deep heave of a breath. The strangely fragrant waft of -- old soil under harsh floodlights. The patient coaxing of hands stirring through small half-cracked pots, sowing little seeds, guiding the struggling plantlets. Maybe in a week or in a month or in a year Ignis will succeed, and he’ll at least be at home in the varying sharp savory wafts of green herbs, of plants that can be used to heal.

Maybe, Prompto thinks, and he clutches Ignis closer and try as he might, he can’t make himself go back to sleep just yet, and he doesn’t even know what that sound that had woken him up had been, and he opens his eyes and gets an elbow braced underneath the rest of him so he can lean up and over and -- well, at least he’s gotten over himself and learned to watch Ignis, watch over him, and make sure he gets the rest he needs.

Ignis is -- still bandaged all over, but at least he’s no longer completely helpless, not that he ever actually was in any sense of that word. Just -- hobbled, perhaps. Held back by darkness.

But Prompto remembers watching him earlier, the bright whistling arc of a staff in his hands, and the swift martial song of his movements as he played out the entire length of that weapon and used every last inch to his own advantage, and there’d been no need to worry about blindness, about accidents, now that he could move with lethal and precisely focused intent once again.

Intent like what Prompto knows lives keen and bristling in his own skin and nerves, wired straight to the guns he wears like neatly grounding weights at his hips, when he’s out hunting.

Intent, that he thinks he feels still crackling in Ignis’s own sleeping form, the hunch of him in his bones and his muscles, like lines wearing in deeper and deeper and the changes in their own bodies, constantly deprived of warmth and of sunlight --

And it’s a surprise, and it isn’t, when his eyes catch on the light-colored strands of Ignis, the wisps of untamed hair just at his ears: light enough and pale enough to be nearly bleached.

Oh.

Ignis is going gray, and it’s almost a wonder that it hasn’t happened sooner.

Sooner, what with the stress of three and four lifetimes crammed into something so much shorter. The stress, the rage, the bitter mourning tears, the sheer jagged pain. The bruises still yellowing on too-pale skin, a shocking contrast to stark purple-brown of scars born from magic and from fire.

Prompto has to bite hard at the inside of his cheek so he doesn’t burst into tears, so he doesn’t wake Ignis, so he doesn’t give in to the thorns and the weights around his heart. The hollowing howling agony that refuses to dull, that’s anchored firmly into the hollow spaces between his ribs.

And still that flaring bright pain doesn’t let him stay silent: so he presses his mouth to Ignis’s temple instead, and mutters small apologies as soon as he feels the tears come streaking and splashing down, damp and gathering in the short strands of hair, the vivid burn-lines.

“Prompto,” and the single word is clogged with all the world, all the emotions that he can now feel, jagging in Ignis’s heartbeat that he feels out with his other hand.

“Sorry sorry sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Not for that.”

And it’s his turn to be turned around, to be held: the entire breadth of Ignis pressed against his back, the bellows of him expanding and contracting in forceful breaths.

Prompto sobs, only a little, only enough to be heard and hushed and pulled closer, and he clutches desperately at the hand over his heart, until he can force himself to let go of his tears.

“Will you tell me?”

It’s a small thing, it’s such a stupid detail, and yet he says it out loud, because he can’t not say it. Because Ignis is asking him to say it out loud, and he gave up hiding secrets from Ignis -- from any of the others -- a long time ago.

So he says, small and clear and still fearful anyway, “You’re going gray.”

Still, silent, broken only by a startled breath.

And: “Am I?”

Prompto grabs that hand of Ignis’s in both of his own. “Yeah.”

Shaky laugh, unexpected, the exact opposite of the words that follow. “I thought I’d already gotten started on that.”

“This’s new. I think.”

“I believe you, Prompto. I just don’t believe -- myself.”

There’re too many layers in those words, and the layers make Prompto ache and make him wince, and he turns around and he covers Ignis’s temples with the palms of his hands, so he can pull him down, so he can kiss him.

Soft whispers against his lips, against his teeth. Ignis’s head falling back, opening up, baring himself, and Prompto redoubles his efforts and lets Ignis tug him closer, lets Ignis sift careful calloused fingers into his hair.

“And you,” he hears Ignis ask, gasping for breath, clothes pushed partly away, flat on his back.

Prompto shifts on him where he’s straddling those narrow hips, those muscle-corded thighs, and shakes his head. “I -- probably. Scratch that. They’ve gotta be there. I just can’t find them.”

“Then we can match.”

He laughs, a little, and he hears the edge in the sound and knows it for what it is, and he can say, “Yeah. Yeah we can.”

#makikoigami #milodrums #quick fic pick #fic: mine #pairing: promnis #character: prompto argentum #character: ignis scientia #bittersweet chocobros

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daehwifi · 6 years

Text

WINTERS WITH WANNA ONE .

- admin xion [collaborating with my bby cyn @longquos]

genre: fluff member(s): wanna one ! word count: n/a requested: no side notes: aHHH THIS IS SO CUTE I CANT AISUHDNIMLKW

prompt: for the cold days with wanna one

jisung

every time you guys meet, he buys you heat packs

or if he doesn’t have t time to stop buy a store and buy some, he’ll share his with you

like it’ll be in between both of your hands as you guys are holding hands

when going to cafes together, he’ll place his face into his hands and smile as you drink your hot chocolate

finds it the most cutest thing ever when you place your hot drink near your face for a while to heat it up

would play little mini games to see who pays

like he’d purposely google “how to always win at rock paper scissors”

if he does lose, he’ll be like “practice round,”

if you do end up paying, he’ll like swap your credit cards or something

but if you catch him in the act and you do end up paying, he’ll become all pouty and child-like mad

he’ll only forgive you if you hug him and apologize

avoid dangerous or possible dangerous places, especially when he’s with you

always drives

he’ll purposely turn up the heat in the car to make sure your warm

from time to time, he’ll cup your cheek and run his finger back and fourth ever so softly

a pure gentlemen

make sure you enter the passenger seat first

puts on your seat belt

will do the parking trick (where he places his arm over your seat) and you just look at his jawline

and you could smell his cologne

which melts your heart because he puts on the cologne he knows you love the most

if your hand is resting on the space in between the seats, he’ll draw circles on it as he’s driving out of natural habit

if you fall asleep in his car, he’ll purposely park and pull out an extra jacket and throw it over you

giving you a light peck on your cheek and having the smallest smile before he drives again

will send you healthy tips (like good tea’s to drink) especially during the winter if you ever get a cold

sungwoon

would sing you to sleep after a date

or like if you’re falling asleep on his shoulder, he’ll sing (or hum) softly as he pats your head really gently

karaoke dates are common (yes you guys yell a lot within them)

but so are lazy days (spending dates within his dorm or yours)

trying to make small things together (like origami) or even bake)

if you run into taehyun, he’ll smirk at the two of you

or be like “shut up taehyun, y/n’s mine,”

“if you had a girlfriend, in which you don’t, you’d be even more whipped than i am right now,”

at a chirstmas party, he’ll try to out sing jaehwan

and you’ll be there like

“oh shit”

“i won right babe?”

and you’ll tease him and pretend to think about it and he’ll just pout

would want you to always have fun

tucks strands of hair behind your ear and gummy smiles because you melt his heart away

tries to hold your hand when you both are walking and once you’ll notice he’ll pout and be like “babeeee” when you’re doing your makeup and sungwoon is in your room

he’ll know all your makeup products by heart

“sungwoon can you pass me the nars pallete with the p-”

and he already has it in his hand and is handing it to you

if you’re ever using olive young products, he’ll know all the products even more

“babe don’t use that one, the lip tint isn’t long lasting and you won’t like the texture of it,”

“take this one instead”

knows you like and what you dont

like he can order for you, knowing your mood, what you’re craving

if your breaking out, he’ll buy cosrx pimple patches for you

lol this just turned into skin care routine with sungwoon-

minhyun

not a lot of outside dates

he wants you to be as warm as possible 24/7

would cook up a meal for you as you help

highkey when he’s rushing in the kitchen, he’ll purposely stop and give you a kiss on your cheek and it’ll be all worth it for him

he’ll buy home essentials for the winter and give them to you

purposely buys a kotatsu for both of you to use

if anything, he’ll let you borrow his sweaters

especially if you came with clothes and you weren’t so warm

he’d force you to wear a sweater when going home

doesn’t really mind you stealing his hoodies since he knows you’ll be warm and cozy

finds you to be the most cutest thing in the world whenever you wear them and you have little “bear paws”

baking is a must

when it becomes a mess, it’ll bother him

but you wipe frosting onto his nose

“let’s focus on that later”

if you bring cookies you made yourself

he’ll become so protective over it and hates it when his members eat them instead of him

scolds members when they try to interfere with both of your cookie baking together

purposely lay his body on top of yours when your laying down

and give you small pecks on the lips

he’ll give you small pecks everywhere man-

when napping together, he’ll sneak a arm around your waist

and nuzzle his head into the crook of your neck

make sure your body is close to his because he knows you feel extremely safe in that position

“i love you,” he mumbles softly

and you become a flustered mess

kisses your cheek when you fall asleep

he’ll find anything about you adorable

your sneezes

your laughs

even you crying

he finds you to be such a beautiful human being

seongwoo

he’d start snow fights with you and would want to build a snowman together

make sure you bring gloves all the time but when you don’t, he’d hold your hands throughout the whole entire date

would buy you a giant scarf and wrap it around you

whenever your back hugging him, he’d take your hands and shove them inside the pockets of his jacket, still holding your hands

his hands are heat packs themselves

smiles a lot when you back hug him because it’s something he finds to be so adorable when you do it especially

places his forehead on yours when he has the oppertunity

loves teasing the height difference (if there is one) if you guys go see fireworks, he’ll stare at you instead

cups your cheeks a lot

when you sit down, he’ll take off his jacket and place it onto your lap

he likes doing cheesy stuff

he’ll pay for dinner

when you reach for your wallet he’ll be like

“brb gotta use the washroom”

and highkey pay

always wants you to be comfortable

prioritizes you way more than himself

gets lowkey jealous easily

you two would be walking down the street, holding hands as a attractive male comes up to you to ask you a question (like where is the nearest train station) and he’ll compliment you within the process, despite your boyfriend is right beside you

and seongwoo would squeeze your hand as he compliments you

and deny it later on that he was jealous

he drapes his arms over your shoulders often

jaehwan

jaehwan would be all bundled up and have his guitar case swung over his shoulder when you guys meet

stops at a park or in front of a cafe and whips out his guitar

sing songs he wrote for you or really soft songs he knows you enjoy as he gives you this stare that makes you melt every single time

and afterwards you’ll compliment him on it

and he’ll become shy then cocky

tries to act cool and do the “you hands are cold so i’ll stuff them into my pocket” but then forgets that he zipped it up

and when he attempts hes like

“sHIT”

and fumbles to unzip it

you’re dying of laughter as you end up unzipping it for him

he’d be both cocky and grateful for you

“what would i do without you?” and

“pffttttt, i was just testing you, this was all apart of my plan,”

if you ever told him you were could, he’d highkey tease you

“jaehwan, i’m cold,”

“sorry, i’m cold too,” and pulls his scarf tighter around his neck

but afterwards, you feel something warm around your neck and it’s jaehwan’s knitted scarf

daniel

wOO MY BIAS

holds your hand on the street

giggles whenever you pout

you guys would meet and there’d be snow falling

and daniel would instantly embrace you with his warmth

if you’re cold, he’ll open up (hAHHAHAHHA) his jacket and wrap you around it

gives you kisses on your nose since your nose gets cold easily

kisses the top of your head often

smiles really widely when around you

covers your ears just in case if their cold

if you’re still cold, he’ll run to the pharmacy and buy you heat packs for you

hugs you wherever you go

especially when waiting in lines at a cafe, he’ll sneak his arms around you and back hug you

also would kiss your cheek within the process

girls are highkey checking him out because who wouldn’t

but you’re the only one he sees

daniel doesn’t really prefer it when you guys are together and are not making any contact at all

like if you’re not hugging, you’re arm would cling onto his

if not that, you guys would be holding hands

he’s just clingy overall, not that you mind

he’ll feel a bit empty if you guys aren’t doing anything

but if you’re realllllllllly not in the mood which is extremely extremely (x52) rare, he’ll understand

daniel would also wear trench coats often

i love him in trench coats

that by itself is a thread

wOOO BOI

and him in a huge ass scarf

yes pls

jihoon

the two of you like to go out and eat then go home cause none of you guys want to burn down the kitchen

so at the dorms, he’ll attempt the classic, “let’s watch horror so you get scared and cling onto me!” but he ends up getting scared and clings onto you

“jihoon, it’s not real,”

“sHHHHH YOU’RE THE ONE SCARED WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT”

but in actuality he’s not scared

you just weren’t clinging onto him liked planned so he pretends too

and you highkey know it

you guys would be the type of couple to spend christmas together (lol let’s pretend chirstmas didn’t just pass)

he’ll spoil you with small gifts that cost a lot

writes you cards because he knows you treasure cards a lot and have a box of just past cards you’ve received

i feel like he’s too weak to carry a huge ass gift so therefore he buys you small ones instead

abuses nae maeum soge jeojang to get you to do stuff for him

“babe can you get me the remot-”

“no”

“AHEMEAHEMAEH M NAE MAEUM SOGE JEOJ-”

and bam you’re giving him the remote

jinyoung always third wheeling

and jihoon just pulls that on you and jinyoung’s like

“what the actual hell....” and just leaves you both from that, shaking his head as your dying of laughter

making weird faces is a habit of both of yours

he’d just look at you and make a weird face as you’d do the same

and they’d always end off with both of you giving a small kiss on the lips

woojin

dates to lotte world or everland

he seems like the kind of person who enjoys those kinds of dates

he’ll want to buy those headbands and take pictures with you to show off to the members later

and drags you onto rides

at the end of the day, he’ll take you to the ferris wheel

and once the two of you are at the top when it stops woojin begins screaming and you’re like

“GODDAMMIT”

and can’t stop laughing because the sounds he was making is so funny

and the car starts rocking because you’re laughing too hard

“imscaredlet’ssittogether,”

once he sits beside you, you give him a small peck on the cheek and begins to blush really hard, staring off into space

as his iconic snaggletooth smile appears and he giggles softly

and then he leans in again and plants a firm kiss on your lips

as the ferries wheel begins to start again, the two of you scream and then start laughing

when seongwoo comes to pick you two up

“dID yoU Two hAVE fuN? (;”

highkey seongwoo the dad in this situation

you two begin laughing as seongwoo becomes confused

jinyoung

date movie x52

inclduing arcade machines

and jinyoung would have no mercy

“can you let me win once?”

and he’s like

“lolol no,”

no one escapes the wrath of jinyoung

when he claims all of his prizes, he’ll just walk off with them

he’ll debate if he wants to give them to you or not

also, him choosing which prizes to get is a story itself

“dammit, they have the gudetama sleeping but they also have the yugioh card deck that doesn’t sell anymore!”

makes you chose a prize for him

doing any couple-like stuff will make him really flustered

like really flustered

holding hands itself will make him blush so much

jinyoung’s probably a back hugger

he’s fine with it and all but he really likes wrapping his arms around you and putting his head on your shoulders

he’d probably kiss your cheek too when he does it

if the two of you took a nap together, he’d hug you so close to him and it’d be the cutest thing ever

you can’t even sleep because your heart is beating too fast

daehwi

when you two meet, he’ll hold your hands and jump up and down

when he has a date with you, he’ll carry a lot of stuff in his backpack just in case (stuff like checkers and has snacks, heat packs, scarves, gloves, etc)

he’ll enjoy squishing both of your cheeks together

fixes your bangs

gives you really soft and gentle kisses

and he’s really shy at first about the holding hands thing

but as time goes by, he’ll lace his fingers with yours

if you blush, he’ll ruffle your hair

“you’re so cute,” and then you’ll peck him on the cheek

and he’ll turn his head because he’s too embarrassed

if daehwi was taller, he’d back hug you

texts you “make sure to dress up warmly!” and stuff on the days he has a schedule and not with you

when he’s free, he’ll pick you up

the two of you take the train together and he leans his head against your shoulders and takes a nap

and you’re like

“asiudhnilwkmaduasonim he’s too cute”

guanlin

guanlin would do some really cute things that makes you completely flustered

he’d secretly buy things you said you wanted like ages ago

and when you unwrap it, you lowkey cry on the inside because he remembered

he’d highkey have a whole note on his phone of shit to buy you

whenever he see’s you cry, he’d be like

“oh shit what’d i do?”

“nO THESE ARE HAPPY TEARS”

and he’d do his iconic gummy smile

highkey from time to time you’d laugh your ass off cause guanlin would mispronounce something in korean as you’d correct him

hugs you before pecking your lips

and jisung just walks into the room at the same time and is like

“awh young love,” then walks out

the rest of the day is spent cuddling with guanlin in bed

and he’s extremely warm

when he’s sleepy, his voice gets really deep

he’s overall really whipped for you

becomes even more of a kid then he already is whenever you do something extremely cute

like he’ll smile really widely and do little jumps or kick his legs around

cOUGH

COUGH

CYN

@longquos (she did this collab with me <3 ily cyn also her birthday is right around the corner so pls <3)

200 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 6 years

Text

Love Shack, 6 (Trixya) - mallstars

AN: hi, hello! after dropping the first five chapters of love shack on you about a week ago, here’s Chapter Six: In Which Katya Gets Hot and Sweaty.

prepare to feel things and please remember that feedback is important! <3

Chapter 6

In Which Katya Gets Hot and Sweaty

Trixie is slowly getting the hang of things at Smiles for Miles. She knows which kids can’t have dairy, she knows which kids are prone to anger, and when there’s a single tiny shoe lying around in a corner, she knows who that belongs to as well. Today is one of the harder days though. It has been stormy all day, meaning they can’t go outside and the kids don’t know what to do with their built-up energy. This means it is loud, louder even than usually, and there is more complaining than Trixie can listen to.

“So this sucks,” she comments quietly when Shangela flops down next to her on a bean bag, her hair in even more disarray than usual, and stretches her neck, which pops audibly.

“Ya. Kids,” she sighs in mock exasperation. “It’s like this a lot when the weather is shit - Shift! I said Shift!” she quickly adds when two boys stare at her and giggle.

“So what now?” Trixie asks. She has already tried pretty much everything today. She tried reading out a book, but nobody was willing to listen. She tried getting the kids to draw mandalas, or fire trucks, or even mermaids, but nobody stayed at the table for longer than two minutes at a time. She tried building Legos, she tried playing dress up, and had to give up every time. As a last resort she tried yelling at the kids, which helped for all of two minutes and also made her feel bad about herself. At least Latrice is out today and will only come by shortly before closing. That way, she doesn’t see the mess they are right now.

“Ugh, don’t ask me. They don’t even wanna dance with me today. Right, Emma? You don’t wanna dance with me?”

Emma doesn’t answer and instead goes on with her game that seems to be: take random objects in the room and place them somewhere else where nobody would suspect them. Trixie spotted her favourite mug in a box of cowboy dolls a little earlier.

“Gotta miss Ginger on days like this. If she were here right now, she would just get out the guitar and make some noise, that always helped. Well, mostly. Why are you not Ginger?”

Trixie hesitates for a moment. She hasn’t played the guitar in a while, having slowly lost interest in the past couple years. When she moved here, it had been so long since she picked it up that she didn’t even bother to bring it. Besides, her guitar at home is complete trash. But she does know how to play. She’s not great with playing in front of people; she can count the times she’s played for her friends on one hand; but these are just a bunch of kids, and what do they know about music anyway, and she would do pretty much anything to make them quiet down a little.

“I’m better than Ginger. You have the guitar here?”

Shangela beams at her.

Half an hour later Trixie is sitting on the window still, cross-legged, playing a guitar that has clearly seen better days, but that sounds fairly okay. The kids have gathered around her, and, low and behold! quieted down. There’s still the occasional kid running around the room, there’s shuffling, and talking, and a ridiculous amount of coughing, but most of the kids look at her with gleaming eyes. She’s wrecking her brain for every kid’s song she knows. Most of the songs she knows from her childhood the kids don’t know, but Shangela seems to be a walking book of modern children’s songs, never running out of new song ideas the kids can sing along to.

Trixie feels the tension she has felt all day slowly leave her body. She likes kids, she likes music, and she is not sure why she never thought about combining these two things before. There’s something incredibly validating about having all of them look up at her and screech delightedly whenever she starts a new song they like. And her voice sounds nice, she thinks, even when she’s stumbling over the words of verses she barely knows, going after Shangela’s lead.

When Latrice walks in towards closing time they are singing the theme of Sofia the First for the fourth time – back by popular demand – and by now even Trixie knows the lyrics:

I was a girl in the village doing alright Then I became a princess overnight Now I gotta figure out how to do it right So much to learn and see

Latrice sits down on the carpet with the kids, gives Trixie and Shangela an encouraging smile, and starts singing along, her deep raspy voice drowning out most of the kids.

After all the kids have been picked up, Latrice comes up to her. “I didn’t know you could do that.”

“Yeah, me either. I mean, I knew I could play the guitar of course, but.”

“Yeah. Yeah, so I thought this wasn’t going to happen this year, with Ginger leaving and all, but listen: The last couple years we put on a little musical for the holidays. Just for the parents and siblings, a small thing. Is this something you can imagine doing?”

“Oh. Yes, sure, why not!” Trixie likes that idea. She still has the guitar wrapped around her shoulder, not quite ready to put it away yet.

“Excellent.”

“So, what kind of musical? Do you have the sheet music?”

Latrice thinks for a second. “Ginger always wrote the musicals. I don’t know, I think she took all that stuff with her. But I can call her and get her to send some stuff over.”

Shangela, who is busy getting the room back in order after their turbulent day suddenly chimes in: “We can write a musical ourselves, can’t we, Trix?”

“We can?” Trixie doesn’t think they can.

“Sure. I never liked Ginger’s stuff that much anyway, it’s so – I don’t know, we can top that. I can write some lyrics, and earlier you said you used to write music! Come on, it’s a challenge!”

“Uh, I guess.” A challenge for sure.

Latrice laughs. “That’s the spirit. No, really, just try it out, and if it doesn’t work, we can always still call Ginger.”

♥♥♥

This is how, the next day, Trixie comes back to Shangela’s straight after work. They have a musical to write, apparently. With Latrice’s permission, Trixie has taken the guitar from the day care with her. There’s no guitar case, and she carries it wrapped in a blanket to protect it from the drizzle outside. At the house, Shangela leads her into the living room where Adore is napping on the couch and Chi Chi is doing some course work on the floor. Shangela kicks close Chi Chi’s book as she passes him and plops down on Adore’s feet on the couch, waking them up. “It’s musical writing time!” she announces, “be helpful or get lost.”

It is at least another forty-five minutes before they even start trying to write. Juju comes home right after them and squeezes into the space between Shangela and the back of the couch, holding her from behind and distracting her from getting anything done. They are kissing way too much, Trixie thinks. Chi Chi for his part doesn’t seem to be musically gifted, or at least he isn’t interested in being helpful, but is happy to stay in the room and side-track Shangela with dumb jokes whenever Trixie gets her to give her any attention. Trixie half wants to give up and tell Latrice to call Ginger after all, but she remembers the excitement she felt last night before she went to bed, when she fantasized about putting her own musical together. She wants to at least try now. She picks up the guitar and pulls on the strings thoughtfully, deciding that she would just start writing on her own, the others be damned.

Of course, this is the moment Katya walks in and simultaneously the moment Trixie stops trying to write. Katya enters the kitchen from upstairs and she looks like she’s been asleep until moments ago. She is wearing an oversized black shirt that says SAD GOTH and glasses with black rims; hair legs are naked and fuzzy and there is no makeup on her face. She looks tired. Trixie has to fight two opposing urges: the urge to get up and hug her, and the urge to make fun of her outfit. She sits tight and shuts up.

“What’s going on here?” Katya asks and yawns openly, joining Chi Chi on the floor and stretching her arms over her head. She looks so different without makeup. “Are we making music?”

“We” Trixie answers, shooting Shangela a pointed look “are trying to write a musical for the kids. You’re welcome to be helpful.”

“I’m afraid this isn’t one of my myriad of talents but sure. What do we have so far?”

To Trixie’s surprise Katya ends up being actually helpful. Her biggest contribution consists in making the others focus, not yell over one another, and reel in some of their ideas. Trixie didn’t know Katya had it in her.

Trixie herself doesn’t get too involved in planning the plot and is already trying to come up with little melodies, only half listening to their ideas. Adore insists on an underwater holiday fantasy, an idea Chi Chi enthusiastically seconds. (“Come on, are you sure you can’t have the show at the pool?” he asks for the third time, despite Shangela’s note that most of the kids probably can’t swim yet). Katya and Juju love the idea of an outer space adventure and start coming up with a plot that doesn’t involve Christmas or any other holiday in the slightest (“But making a holiday musical for the holidays is so expected, let’s do something else instead”). After almost an hour of this, Shangela comes through and pieces together a short plot around an elf who is swamped with his job as a first-time helper of Santa and gets help from various magical characters. It’s predictable, but cute. Trixie, who likes to have things perfect, takes a little convincing from the others.

“Listen, it doesn’t matter that much.” Shangela insists when Trixie circles back to an earlier Christmas Western idea. “The kids are damn cute, they are cute when they try to act and sing, and you know damn well they are going to mess up half of their lines anyway. And the parents are going to love it, like they do every year.” She is right, probably.

Apparently, this is enough work for today for the others. Chi Chi turns on the TV and they decide to order in pizza. Trixie, however, doesn’t put down the guitar, keeps trying out melodies, and after a while Adore goes to get their own guitar and together the two of them come up with the first song. It’s far from being a good song and Trixie knows she’ll change most things about it in a couple of days, but it’s the first song she has written in years and it makes her happy just to sit here and play and sing quietly.

Katya has traded in her place on the floor for a place on a big arm chair next to the couch. She is surprisingly calm today, no jumping around the room, no pulling Shangela’s hair, nothing. Instead, she’s playing around on her phone, constantly texting, but every now and then she looks up to smile at Trixie, who feels particularly self-conscious about her voice in those moments.

When Trixie gets home just before midnight she gets a notification from Instagram and clicks to see Katya uploaded a picture of her and Adore. She’s sitting on the couch, guitar in hand, looking down and smiling slightly, Adore next to her. The only caption there is is a pink flower emoji.

♥♥♥

The next day, Trixie wakes up with the itch to do something monumental. She can’t, however, figure out what exactly she wants to do, so she spends most of the day doing her homework and preparing a presentation she has to give the next day. She feels unsatisfied all day and apparently spends quite a bit of time sighing and huffing because finally Kim asks her, in an exasperated voice: “What is going on with you today?”

“Ugh, I don’t know. I want to do something.”

“Okay? Let’s do something then.”

“Like what?” Trixie whines.

“We could go out? We could go to the milkshake bar you like? To the park? The movies? Throw stones into the river? Feed a duck? I’m down for whatever.” Kim shuts her book with a loud thud. She has spent all day on her homework as well and must be pretty annoyed with it if she’s so ready to go out. Kim likes staying in.

“I don’t know. Gimme more options!” Trixie turns fully towards Kim so Kim can get a good look at her pout.

Kim rolls her eyes and thinks for a moment. “Okay, so, uh, I didn’t know if I should bring this up because Shangela told me you said no, but Juju gave me something to give you.” She gets up and pulls her purse out of her bag. Inside, there’s a yellow post it note she hands to Trixie. There’s a phone number on it. Trixie raises her eyebrows in question.

“Shangela said Juju told you about this girl who’s interested in you. That’s her number.”

“Oh.” Trixie had completely forgotten about that. A couple of months ago, the idea of a girl being interested in her would have excited her to no end, but she can’t evoke that feeling right now. She lets herself fall down on her bed and hugs a pillow to her stomach. “What’s her name?”

“Pearl. Her name is Pearl.”

Pearl. “Like Pearl Slackhoople,” Trixie notes.

“Who?”

“Pearl Slackhoople. She’s Fred Flintstone’s mother in law.”

“Uh huh.”

“She doesn’t approve of him.”

“This Pearl is nobody’s mother in law. Do you wanna text her maybe?”

Trixie groans. “I don’t know. Do you think I should text her?”

“I can’t make that decision for you. But, umm. No, never mind.”

“Come on. You can’t do that.”

“Okay. It’s just, I’ve been meaning to ask you for a while. Uh, when we were at Juju’s party in the kitchen and you met Violet…I don’t know – what’s going on between you and Katya?”

Trixie throws her arms over her face and sighs loud and dramatically. “Do you want me to tell you more about the Flintstones? I have some opinions I’d like to share. Like, about their fashion? You like talking about fashion.” Trixie thinks she could pull some opinions on this out of her ass, probably.

“So I’m not wrong. I’ve seen the way you look at her, Trixie.”

“Oh god? How do I look at her?”

“Like you want to walk over and sit in her lap, basically.”

“Shit.”

“So do you? Want that, I mean?”

“Kim! Kim, I don’t know! She has a girlfriend.” This conversation is a lot to handle for Trixie. She feels blood rushing to her cheeks and hides her face in her pillow. She should have taken the chance to go out and feed ducks instead of having this conversation.

“I know she has a girlfriend. I love Violet. She doesn’t get along too well with some of the others, or maybe just Juju mostly, but I think she’s great.”

“Ugh.” Trixie doesn’t need to hear this. Trixie wants to hear how Violet does arson in her free time and steals from the poor.

“You know they have an open relationship, right? Violet definitely wouldn’t mind you sitting on Katya’s lap a little.”

Yes. Trixie does know this. Has known this for a little over a week now and has spent entirely too much time thinking about it. “Yeah I know.”

“And you like her?”

“What is this, high school?” Trixie throws her pillow at Kim and immediately misses its protecting warmth on her face. “God, yes, I like her.”

“Do you…not want to go for her because of Violet?”

Here are the reasons why Trixie does not want to go for Katya. 1) Katya herself said that she thinks mostly about Violet when she hooks up with somebody else and Trixie just isn’t able to handle that knowledge. 2) Trixie feels like she should not take advantage of Katya’s state. Katya trusted her with her feelings, was open with her when Trixie wasn’t open with Katya, and it wouldn’t feel right to enter into something with Katya without Katya knowing about Trixie’s feelings. Whatever these feelings were. 3) Trixie is scared of getting rejected. She is nothing, absolutely nothing like Violet, and therefore probably not Katya’s type. The thought of her coming on to Katya and Katya just not being interested at all is mortifying. 4) Thinking a couple of steps ahead, Trixie is also scared Katya would hook up with her once and then never again. She can’t imagine what it would be like to know how it feels to kiss and hold Katya, to maybe even fuck Katya (this is a thought Trixie has managed to almost not indulge in at all so far, and she’s glad about that), and then never getting to do it again. 5) Going for a girl, any girl, even the most single girl, is terrifying.

“Yeah,” is the answer Trixie finally settles on. She buries her face in her hands and groans. “This sucksss. I just need to get over this.”

“Maybe, yes. So, uh, do you think maybe it’s a good idea to text Pearl? And go out with her tomorrow? Not today. You need to entertain me today.”

Okay, Trixie decides. This is happening. She has no idea who Pearl is, what she likes, what she looks like – and realizes that her lack of curiosity is probably a bad sign – but she enters her number into her phone anyway. Once Pearl’s number is in her phone, Trixie can see her profile picture in her messenger’s contacts. She zooms in. Pearl is hot. She’s either giving the camera bedroom eyes, or was caught halfway through blinking. She has a septum piercing, which Trixie loves. Her hair is short and curly, shaved off at the sides. Not at all like Katya’s hair, in her messy braids and buns, that Trixie feels the itch to smooth down all the time. Her hair looked so beautiful in the light of the rising sun that morning in the garden.

“Don’t know what to text her?” Kim prompts her. Trixie realises she has been looking at her phone, doing nothing, for a too long time.

“No. Let’s go out.”

They head out not knowing where they want to go and walk around the neighbourhood for a while. Trixie suggests going into the opposite direction of Katya’s, half because she doesn’t feel like ending up there right now, and half because she realizes she barely knows any other part of the neighbourhood. They get some coffee to go and do window shopping when Trixie is struck by an idea. There’s a tattoo and piercing studio on the other side of the road. It’s painted an obnoxious red, the tattoos in the front window are unnecessarily ugly, and it is the key to the monumental thing Trixie needs to do today.

“Kim. Think about if you want any tattoos or piercings, because we are going in there.”

Turns out, you need an appointment for a tattoo, but Trixie didn’t want a tattoo anyway. When they walk out of the shop forty-five minutes later, Trixie is the proud owner of a septum piercing (and a very achy nose). It’s dark golden and ornate and Trixie is thrilled.

She tried to talk Kim into getting a matching one, but there was no way. Kim is more than happy, however, to indulge Trixie and take a bunch of pictures of her with her new piercing. She wants to upload one to her Instagram, showing her new self off to as many people as possible.

Once they are home, Trixie spends a whooping fifteen minutes to decide which picture looks the best, puts a filter on it, and uploads. Her first post in months. She’s a little excited about some of the people back home to see her, with all that heavy makeup and the septum. It’s a change for sure.

After uploading the picture, she spends some more time on her presentation, finally able to focus now that she has done something with her day. When she looks at her phone again, almost three hours have passed, and sure enough she got some likes and comments – the first one from Kim, of course, even though she took the picture and is sitting opposite her right this moment. She can count on Kim.

She scrolls through the comments, one from a co-worker back at the hotel, one from Sasha, one from Adore, one from Juju, three from former friends of hers that she hasn’t spoken to in years, and, finally, one from Katya. It just says yes bitch!!

The next day is a Sunday and Trixie spends the morning sitting in bed wrapped in a blanket and playing the guitar. Kim is out with Shangela. She asked Trixie to come, but Trixie felt like getting some song-writing done today. And she actually did. It’s only just past noon and she has already smoothed out the first song she wrote with Adore at their house, and she has a second song halfway done. She doesn’t need more than three or four songs for this musical, because the kids would never be able to learn more than that, so she’s already finished with a big chunk off the work. She feels more accomplished than she can remember feeling at any point in the last couple of years. Why did she ever stop writing music? It makes her feel so good.

Deciding she’s done with the musical for today, she keeps playing the guitar strings absentmindedly, lying on her back in bed. After a while she gets out her notebook that she hasn’t written in anything since her plane ride here and begins scribbling down lyrics.

When Kim comes back, a little wet from the rain and with an early dinner for both of them, Trixie has outlined her first non-muscial song in years. There are lyrics missing every here and there, and she’s only written the music for the chorus, not the verses, but the knowledge that she actually got something written has Trixie in such a good mood she decides to text Katya for no other reason than she feels like it in that moment.

Trixie

hey, hope youre doing okay :)

Katya must have had her phone in her hand (texting Violet, maybe?) because she replies almost immediately.

Katya

doing okay, thank you for asking.

Trixie thinks a moment about a reply to that, but before she starts typing, there’s another message from Katya.

Katya

Milkshakes?

Trixie lets out a suffering sigh at that. Hanging out with Katya never helps. Of course it doesn’t.

Trixie

Milkshakes.

Trixie is at the milkshake bar a little early, freezing in the early winter air. The wind is particularly harsh on her newly-pierced nose, and Trixie makes sure to hide half her face behind her fluffy scarf. By now most of the trees around her are bare and she can see her breath against the dim yellow light of the bar in front of her. She scrolls through her phone for a while, but has to put it away because the cold wind bites into her hands. She misses summer already.

When Katya shows up a couple of minutes later she is wearing one of the ugliest dresses Trixie has ever seen under her open coat. It’s made of a rough awkward knit, in a bright yellow and has big turquoise buttons. As if this wasn’t enough, she’s wearing suede heels with yellow fringe on them. Trixie wonders if Katya dressed this terribly on purpose and somehow her mouth decides this is an okay thing to ask Katya:

“Do you do this on purpose? Dress like this, I mean?”

This sends Katya in one of her laughing fits; there’s a split second where she looks at Trixie in disbelief, then she starts laughing without a sound, flailing her arms around.

“You cunt!” is the only answer Trixie gets.

Once they’ve settled into a booth as far away from the door as possible – Katya barely seems to mind the cold air, but Trixie minds enough for both of them – Trixie gets a strawberry milkshake like the last time they were here, because why change a good thing. Katya gets one with caramel corn that’s a special offer for the week. She picks out the popcorn with her fingers and chews it slowly, looking satisfied with her choice.

“So how are things going with the musical?” she asks through a mouth full of popcorn. One piece of popcorn falls out of her mouth and onto the plastic table.

“Good. Surprisingly good. I mean, I could strangle Shangela for telling Latrice we could write a musical and then doing basically fuck-all, but I’m coming through, so.”

“Haha, Shangie. She’s the worst.” Now Katya is sucking her index finger, getting a coat of sugar off it. Trixie focusses on the piece of popcorn on the table.

Trixie takes Katya’s comment as an opener to ask a question that has been on her mind for a while. “What’s it like living with this many people?” Trixie has only ever lived with her family, and now Kim. She can’t quite imagine being in a house with so much…going on all the time.

Katya grins. “It’s pretty great, mostly. There’s never enough room because Bob has trouble saying no to people, but Yara and Alexis moved out the end of last year, and now Violet’s gone, so it’s chill for now. I’m sharing my room with Sasha, but I love her, so that’s good. Did I ever tell you she’s my favourite person? If I would have to share a room with any of the others it would drive me up the walls, probably. Up the walls! But not Sasha. I don’t know, maybe Jinkx would be okay, or Chi Chi, but that’s it. But Jinkx listens to a lot of opera. I like opera, but it makes me antsy, kind of. Did you know Sasha is a real Russian? Did Kim make your nails, or did you do them yourself? I like your septum.”

“Thanks. And I made them myself, but I used Kim’s stuff. Kim’s so good at sharing.”

“Kim is the best.”

“She is. So, uh.” Trixie decides now is as good a time as any to ask that next question. “How did you, err, come to Bob’s house?”

Katya laughs lightly. “What did Kim tell you?”

“Nothing! Nothing. But when I first came over Chi Chi said something about you guys being Bob’s…” she trails of, knowing she can’t finish this sentence.

“Charity?” She pronounces the word in Chi Chi’s southern drawl and snorts. “Yeah, Chi Chi likes to say that.” She leans back in her chair and looks at Trixie critically. “Okay. Okay. So you want to have the story?”

Trixie nods, straightening her back and leaning forward slightly, propping her chin on her hands.

Katya takes a deep breath. “Okay. I don’t have the classic got-kicked-out-of-my-house-for-being-queer-story. Some of the others have, but those aren’t stories for me to tell. My parents are actually so wonderful. Always supported me, gave me all the opportunities, you know. But I ended up really anxious and fucked up anyway and dropped out of college and it all went downhill from there. Drugs mostly, I did them all, and some fucked up things to pay for them. I did rehab once, started using again, and now I’m sober again. But it’s a constant thing, it never ends. Sobriety, I mean. One day at a time, every day. I’m never going to be okay. Or, I’m going to be okay, I’m okay right now, I’ve been okay for a while, but, y’know.” All of this comes out of Katya in a fast pace, while she fiddles with her napkin. Trixie gets the impression this isn’t the first time Katya has told this story. She doesn’t have too much experience with drug addiction, but she thinks she understands, mostly.

“Oh wow,” she says, trying to look at Katya with a look that shows compassion, but not pity. That’s a hard look to achieve. She obviously fails because Katya says:

“Don’t look at me like this. I’m fine. Fineee. Bob even helped me pay back some of the money I owe. He’s incredible. And we don’t pay more rent than we can. Some of us barely pay at all most months. At least I don’t, I’m still paying off some debts, and I don’t think I’m the only one. Bob owns the house, you know. He lives in an apartment with his husband and kid, and it’s really nice, but of course the house would be nicer. But he keeps it for us.”

“That’s pretty incredible.”

“It really is. It really is!” she hits her fist to her thigh at that. “I’m just so lucky. And I haven’t lost too much time before I got my shit halfway together, which is great. So I’m twenty-seven and I’m only now finishing a three year University program but, like, I’m finishing a three year University program. Can you believe that. I can’t, sometimes.”

Twenty-seven. Trixie didn’t know this. She had just assumed that Katya was her age, or a little younger maybe. She looks younger.

Katya picks the last bit of popcorn out of her milkshake and looks at Trixie thoughtfully. Trixie has trouble holding Katya’s gaze. “Could you maybe tell me about you?” Katya asks when Trixie fails to pick up the conversation.

“What do you mean?” Trixie isn’t quite ready to close the conversation on Katya’s drug use. She has a million questions.

“I don’t know that much about you. I know that you’re very pretty, and you’re good at the music, and you’ve told me about where you’re from a bit, and those are good things to know, great things to know, but it’s also not much.”

Oh god. Katya thinks Trixie is very pretty. Trixie is having a hard time not to grin from ear to ear. She is going to ride that compliment till the end of time. “So what do you wanna know?”

Katya gives her a challenging grin. “We talked about my scary love life, so I guess it’s only fair we talk about yours.”

Oh shit. Trixie’s heart skips a beat at that and she focusses her gaze on a figurine of a woman in 50s clothing, carrying a tray of milkshakes. Trixie had put on an ensemble very much like this before she got here, liking the idea of matching the bar. She wonders if Katya noticed. She hadn’t said anything, but then it was probably hard to compliment Trixie’s outfit when Trixie had lost no time insulting hers.

“Umm. There’s nothing to talk about, really.”

“Why’s that, Barbra?”

“I don’t know I’m just not, uh, looking to date right now.” Well, that was a blatant lie. Even if Trixie hadn’t met Katya, she was very much in the mood to date when she moved here, and she knows this damn well. She regrets her lie immediately, but it’s too late to take it back now. She hopes Katya can see through it.

“Yeah, I get that.” Katya says, taking off her glasses for a moment to rub her eyes. “It’s, uh, a lot. Dating is a lot.”

“Do you want to talk some more about Violet?” Trixie asks and thinks she deserves a medal for best friend here. But then again, she knows she secretly wishes for Katya to say things have turned from bad to worse. So maybe no medal for her after all.

Katya crushes the ice in her glass with vigour. “No, we’re talking about you here, Trixie. If you don’t wanna talk about dating and shit, then something else. Like, what’s your favourite movie? What’s your opinion on our foreign politics? Do you like the smell of lemon grass? Something.”

“The last time I dated someone I cared about was in high school.”

“And what happened?”

“I don’t know. I was scared pretty much the whole time. Like, of people judging us. Of fucking up in general. I have a hard time remembering what exactly the problem was, but I know I felt like shit most of the time, and so did she.”

At the end of that sentence, Katya shoots her a curious look that Trixie doesn’t know how to place. Katya doesn’t comment, so Trixie goes on: “It’s just the worst, you know, when you love someone, and they love you, and you still can’t make it work. It’s the worst. And then, years later, you’re left with this vague feeling of failure and regret, and you can’t even remember the details of what really went wrong.” She sighs loudly, realizing this is the most she has spoken about Shea to anyone, ever. “You love someone, and they love you, and you still can’t make it work.” she repeats, because this sentence feels important in that moment.

Katya looks at her with wistful eyes. “Tell me about it.” she says, and she smiles, but it’s a sad smile, and Trixie wants nothing more than to reach a couple of inches over the table and put Katya’s hand in hers. Instead, she knots her hands in her lap, and makes sure to change the subject to something lighter, something that isn’t Shea, or Violet, or failure.

♥♥♥

Trixie spends the next two weeks focussing on her classes, and, more importantly, her musical. She loves what she’s creating, and is more proud of the musical than anything else she’s ever written – even though it just a bunch of bullshit about a Christmas elf.

Her second date – well, friend date – with Katya at the milkshake bar is the last time they spend time alone together for a while. They see each other a bit here and there, but there’s always somebody else there with them. Trixie starts coming regularly by their house to talk to Jinkx about her studies and Jinkx turns out to be wonderful at making Trixie go from anxious to calm in record time. Sometimes the whole group do things together, there’s a movie night, and one time they go watch Chi Chi’s soccer game. Katya seems to be in a great mood most of the times Trixie sees her, but she’s also quiet. She doesn’t work well in big groups, Trixie notices, and itches to spend some alone time with her again. She never asks Katya to hang out, however, always talks herself out of it. It wouldn’t go anywhere and can only do harm.

By now, Trixie has gotten used to their relationship. Sure, she still thinks Katya is the prettiest, funniest, most fascinating person she’s ever met. Sure, she still sometimes catches herself dressing up for her, and even once wearing a dark red lipstick because she thought Katya might like that (she did). But she has also accepted the way things are. A couple of weeks have passed since their conversation in the garden, and things with Katya and Violet seem to look up a bit. Violet texts Katya sometimes when Trixie is present, Violet likes all of Katya’s dumb Instagram posts, even the ones that are too stupid for even Trixie to like, and a week ago they met up in New York for a couple of days, and Katya seemed happy when she got back to Boston.

As much as Trixie is convinced she’s fine with the situation, she still hasn’t texted Pearl. She opens the messaging window sometimes, one time even gets as far as to type “hi, it’s trixie”, but she never contacts her.

♥♥♥

It’s 8pm on a Wednesday and she’s watching Netflix with Kim when Trixie gets a message from Adore.

Adore

Gig at the club tonight. Wanna come?

Trixie hasn’t been to the club since that first time – when she swore herself to go every week from now on. She has work tomorrow, and some homework she still hasn’t started, but things like this don’t stop Trixie.

Trixie

Yes!

I’ll be there

Adore

Party.

Adore sends the same invitation to Kim, too, but Kim can’t be bothered tonight. She’s already in her pyjamas, eating pickles again, and refusing to get out of bed. “Suit yourself.” Trixie gives up on trying to convince her, and pulls one of her dresses out of their closet. When she’s doing her makeup, she decides she needs to know if Katya will be there. She has to mentally prepare. A little.

Trixie

hey! you coming to adores’s thing tonight?

Katya

Don’t think so.

I’m painting.

And moody.

Moody painting.

Looks pretty bad.

And sad.

Sad and bad.

Me time!

Trixie

So what you’re saying is you’re not coming out because you’re making bad art?

Katya

Yes.

But also

I think I am coming out

I just remembered your dancing at the club last time

Wouldn’t wanna miss that

Trixie must have smiled like an idiot at this, because Kim looks at her with raised eyebrows.

“Katya?” she asks.

“Katya.” Trixie says.

When she comes to the club, Katya, Sasha, and Jinkx are already there. She hugs all of them, and is reminded of the last time she was here, how new they all had felt to her, and how much has changed since then. Here is what hasn’t changed: When she hugs Katya, she lingers and breathes in her flowery perfume. Katya hugs her back tightly and when she lets go Trixie feels cold. Tonight, Trixie is wearing a hot pink dress that by far isn’t the prettiest dress in their closet, but is the first dress she has finished herself, with only a bit of Kim’s help. She clashes beautifully with Katya, who is once again wearing bright red. As usual, Katya’s dress is tight and has a confusing geometrical pattern on it. Around her neck is a necklace made of cigarettes and her hair is up in a messy ponytail. Trixie tries to come up with a comment for the cigarette necklace, but has nothing.

The rest of the group isn’t coming. It’s a Wednesday, after all, and some of them have things to do. The club is filled to the brim either way. Apparently, Adore has quite a fanbase. At the bar, there’s a group of three wearing self-made Adore shirts, and Adore is signing a guy’s biceps in a corner. The people Adore – or maybe this club in general – attracts fascinate Trixie. Again, even with their fashion choices, their group doesn’t stand out in the club. This makes Trixie frown a little. What does a girl have to do to stand out around here?

When Adore and their band start playing, Trixie knows immediately why people are excited to see them. Adore is great, their energy, their looks, their voice, their lyrics, everything is just right. Katya gets all of them beers and herself lemonade and they drink, jump, and dance till they’re sweaty and out of breath. Katya sweats a lot, Trixie notices. Katya is jumping up and down right in front of her, yelling Adore’s lyrics, that Trixie has never heard before, at full volume, spilling her drink quite a bit. She’s so close Trixie can see the individual beads of sweat on her neck and her hair sticking to her skin. Trixie isn’t drunk, or at least she doesn’t think so, not after two beers, but looking at Katya she feels a little buzzed. She wants nothing more than to reach out and touch Katya, snake her arms around her waist from behind and –

“You wanna go outside, catch some fresh air?” Sasha yells into her ear suddenly, interrupting her rudely. Trixie doesn’t really feel like going outside, but with the way she just fixated on Katya it is probably just what she needs. The last thing she wants to do is accidentally acting on her fantasies and freaking everybody out, including herself. So she nods. Fresh air would do her good.

She goes outside with Sasha and Jinkx, leaving Katya – who claims to be having too much fun to go – behind. It’s cold outside, and they checked in their jackets so they’re freezing. The cold clear air is a welcome change, however, so they stay outside for a bit. Trixie moves to the sound of the music from inside, still impressed with what Adore does. She barely contributes to the conversation Sasha and Jinkx are having, instead walks up and down on the sidewalk, humming quietly. At one point she hugs Jinkx closely from behind, half because she likes them, and half because she just really wants to hug somebody right now. Jinkx puts their hands over Trixie’s and gives her a big smile. Trixie loves their chipped front tooth. “I love your dumb teeth,” she informs Jinkx. “I love your dumb teeth as well,” Jinkx answers, and tightens her hands around Trixie’s. When Trixie finally feels her hands go numb and it gets too cold to stay outside any longer, they make their way back on the dance floor, and Trixie immediately notices that Katya has left her spot. She looks around, suddenly worried, but finds her quickly.

Katya is standing by the bar, talking to an extraordinarily beautiful person. They are tall, slim, and androgynous – Katya’s type, Trixie thinks with a sinking feeling in her stomach. Their skin is dark, and their hair, long and grey, tied in a knot in their neck. They are covered in tattoos, completely flat-chested, and wearing a black glittery jump suit. And they have their hand on Katya’s, lying on the bar.

Too late Trixie notices that she’s following Sasha, who’s walking up to Katya, and introduces herself to the stranger as if that is something you do.

“Hi, I’m Sasha. This is Jinkx, and Trixie. We’re with Katya,” she says loudly over the music.

The beautiful stranger takes their hand off Katya’s – so at least this problem is solved – and gives them a small wave. “Raja,” they say in a deep voice. They are quite a bit older than Trixie and Katya, close to forty, Trixie guesses. Their tattoos aren’t the ugly kind Trixie saw in the tattoo studio’s window a couple of days ago, they look fascinating and Trixie finds herself trying to get a closer look when out of the corner of her eyes she notices Katya giving Sasha a look that pretty much says: Go away, I’m busy.

To Trixie’s dismay, Sasha seems to get the message immediately, and returns to their previous spot on the dance floor, with Trixie following behind like a lost puppy.

Adore’s concert continues, the crowd is as enthusiastic as ever, but Trixie barely takes any of that in anymore. She keeps stealing glances at Katya and Raja out of the corner of her eye, and what she sees makes her lose all motivation to dance. Not only is Raja’s hand back on Katya’s, worse: Katya is standing very close now, her other hand on Raja’s naked biceps. They are talking, and Katya does her laugh thing, leaning her head into Raja’s chest with it. Trixie forces herself to look away for a minute, focusses on Adore’s blue fingernails on the microphone for a whole minute, but breaks down and looks again. Katya is standing even closer now, her hand tracing Raja’s tattoos on their arms. They are not talking anymore, just looking at each other with expressions Trixie can’t figure out from where she stands across the room, and as Trixie watches Raja’s hands go to cup Katya’s ass.

This is when Katya leans in. She gets on her tip toes, Raja is so much taller than her, and kisses Raja, once, softly. Then Raja pulls her in closer, their body’s now flush together and starts kissing her fervidly. Katya’s hands start roaming, go from Raja’s arms over their chest, to their face, their hair, and back, Raja mirroring her movements. Trixie wants to do nothing more than to look away, but can’t get her eyes off the scene. In a fleeting attempt to look at something else, she lets her eyes drift over the other people at the bar and notices at least two strangers who seem quite caught up with the scene in front of them. One of them licks his lips and blatantly looks at Katya’s ass. Trixie feels sick.

So this is happening. Of course it is. Katya is in an open relationship after all. She had told Trixie that she wasn’t interested in hooking up with anyone, but apparently this has changed, or Raja is just too hot to resist, she doesn’t know. All Trixie knows is that Katya is kissing somebody that is not her girlfriend, and it isn’t even her. For some reason Trixie had the fact that Katya has a girlfriend pinned into her head as the one and only reason she’s not with Trixie. But of course this isn’t true. Of course not. Instead, somebody Katya just met gets to kiss her and touch her the ways Trixie wants to, needs to, when Trixie has been there all along. She feels tears well up in her eyes and does her best to swallow them down. If Katya saw her cry now that would be mortifying. She quickly checks for Sasha and Jinkx, neither of whom seem to pay her any attention. Good. Trixie decides to leave the club, go home, and cry a little in her bed. Her feet, however, seem stuck to the ground, and so she stays, watching Katya and Raja go on and on and on. Adore is holding a particularly high note when Katya shifts their positions and presses Raja against the bar, with their hands pinned against the counter.

Trixie watches, transfixed. Somewhere in her stomach a feeling besides hurt begins to rise and she swallows hard. Her eyes flutter close, blocking the scene in front of her and she replaces it with a similar scene. She’s in Raja’s position, one side pressed against the bar, one against Katya, held tightly in place, Katya’s body against hers, her lips on her skin. She is breathing harder, happy to indulge in order to chase the sadness away. She feels a tingling in her hands, slowly spreading over her body, and lets out a soft moan, inaudible over the music.

She opens her eyes just in time to see Katya taking Raja by the hand and leading them towards the restrooms.

This is happening.

Trixie is going home.

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ewanreviewin · 6 years

Text

Song: “Everything to Everyone” by Bahamas

In <100 Words: To give every part of yourself to other people is draining. To give parts of yourself that don’t exist to other people is impossible. Mr. Alfie, Bahamas, touches on this subject in “Everything to Everyone,” and possibly how we can overcompensate in showing people that we care about by trying to please them. It’s infectiously groovy, particularly in the chorus, and the vocal line is so catchy. This will probably stay as one of my favorite choruses of the year!

Fave Lyric: “Take a bottle down from the shelf, and raise a toast to my own health.”

I Also Recommend: “Opening Act” is crazily self-aware, self-doubting, and nonchalant, all over a super catchy “shooby dooby” scat and bass line. The unexpected “Bad Boys Need Love Too” calls for a bit of support on the chorus as Alfie… raps – I’d say – about deadbeat dads & climate-change doubters. Other greats include “No Wrong,” “No Expectations,” and “Way With Words.”

The Album Overall: Earthtones is an incredible record. I serious can’t believe I didn’t start listening to this guy until now. You will find a lot of incredible folk funk throughout this record and it will make sense that he worked with some players in D’Angelo’s band once you give this record a spin.

What This Sound Like: Livin’ out in the country, but not forgetting to bring along your trusty guitar and a few good friends.

Song: “Human” by Kimbra

In <100 Words: I was going to not do this because I wanted to wait for the album to review a Kimbra track, but “Human” is way too good. You can really feel the influence of Robin Hannibal from the piano lines in the chorus and trumpet (?) in the outro, but it slides in so well with Kimbra’s beautiful synth sounds. The lyrics fit perfectly with the grounded “Top of the World” & “Everybody Knows,” touching on the subject of needing people & platonic love to not just survive, but also thrive, as a human being.

Fave Lyric: “Got a heart that’s primal – cause yeah, I need your love for my survival.”

The Video: I’ve got some new dance moves from this one! A very nice & well-filmed doppelganger video as Kimbra croons to her robotic self about being human.

What This Sound Like: Deep talks in the car as you’re parked in the parking structure (the video influenced this one)

Song: “Don’t Give Up on My Love” by Caitlyn Smith

In <100 Words: I’m floored by the emotion in this song. It starts off minimally until Caitlyn’s voice trusts the listener into the depths of her heart, as the band starts getting louder. Then, suddenly you hear the “Pleeeeaaaase” and, wow, it can be quite tough to keep those tears in. Particularly, the “Don’t give up on my love, please!” part is so well-written melodically that I sometimes stop the song to & go back to that section. Her band does their fair share by drumming & playing along, but not to the point of drowning out anything Caitlyn has to say.

Fave Lyric: “Your love is a fire and I need the burn.”

I Also Recommend: Scathing “This Town is Killing Me” is brave & beautiful. “Tacoma” is a slice of blue-eyed soul that you have to love. “Contact High” is my favorite upbeat track, without being too energetic or over-the-top. Both “Scenes from a Corner Booth at Closing Time on a Tuesday” and “Cheap Date” write fun stories.

The Album Overall: I recommend this one – definitely. Caitlyn definitely keeps Starfire varied enough to keep your attention, but also consistent enough to derail the album.

What This Sound Like: A love story centralized in Nashville. I have not been to Nashville before.

Song: “Ignore Me” by Betty Who

In <100 Words: Betty continues the modern pop influences on new single “Ignore Me,” which comes as a self-released track. This is quite a sad track, about being at the end of your ropes in a relationship (seemingly a professional relationship, but could potentially be a romantic relationship or friendship). I appreciate that Betty didn’t release some epic banger quite yet, as this subdued sound really makes you appreciate what she’s singing about. I think this is a taste of what’s yet to come from re-indie-fied Betty, and it’s exciting.

Fave Lyric: “Since you don’t need me anymore, you can ignore me.”

What This Sound Like: Turning of your cell phone and going out to enjoy the nice weather on a spring afternoon.

Song: “gold” by Eden

In <100 Words: Starting out with a little fourth wall breaking with Eden’s uncertainty, “gold” quickly introduces a pretty guitar riff and Eden starts singing along about moving on. That may make it seem like Eden is moving on from a relationship, but it’s actually more than that. His writing apparently used to revolve around old relationships, and “gold” is his breaking free of that. Lastly, I wanted to note how I really enjoy the synth line at the end of the chorus; it makes the song a little more exciting. Overall, this song is great.

Fave Lyric: “And you can call it what you want, but I call it moving on and I’m so done with singing words I don’t believe in no more.”

I Also Recommend: “take care” is very pretty & the strings sounds great with his voice. My favorite double song was “start//end” – great lyrics here. The progression of “love; not wrong (brave) is awesome, especially the climax pretty much right at the 2-minute mark.

The Album Overall: I admit that this is quite a nice album, but I feel that he has a little ways to go before making something great. It feels a bit like a cop-out to say that his voice sounds like Khalid’s, but that is the immediate thought when you hear Eden sing.

What This Sound Like: Being broken up with by your video game girlfriend.

Song: “Further Than The Planes Fly” by Eves Karydas

In <100 Words: Lyrically, this song feels like a “alright shut up and just send me into your love,” using the metaphor of an airplane/rocket. I honestly feel like I don’t have much more to say about the song except that I really like it! “Further Than The Planes Fly” is super well-produced – probably best in the final chorus as the song draws to a close.

Fave Lyric: “Put me in a rocket and send me into the sky – further than the planes fly.”

What This Sound Like: The second your airplane lifts off the ground and you feel both slight fear & relief of finally being in the air (or is that just me that gets a bit of fear?).

Song: “Colors” by St. Beauty

In <100 Words: The steels drums on this one give it a great tropical vibe. The whole song feels pretty carefree, about wanting to just dance & not fight, darkness being defeated by light, that sort of thing. “Colors” feels slightly Janelle Monáe influenced – specifically with the empowering spoken-word outro.

Fave Lyric: “We gotta stick together, show them what you can do.”

I Also Recommend: The “let’s forget our issues for now” track “Not Discuss It” was the first song that drew me in to this record. I also like the modern trap feel of “Caught” (makes me think of Beyoncé’s self-titled), and “Borders.”

The Album Overall: I’m honestly not a huge fan of all the interludes (I think the last one is my favorite actual interlude), but overall it’s a nice, easy listen.

What This Sound Like: Floating up in the clouds.

Week of January 19, 2018 Song: "Everything to Everyone" by Bahamas In <100 Words: To give every part of yourself to other people is draining.

#2018 #bahamas #betty who #caitlyn smith #eden #eves karydas #kimbra #st beauty

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writeyouin · 7 years

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Could you write one where readers grandpa passed away, and reader and he grandpa used to be really close. So she shuts down like she hasn't really had the good cry she needed. And Kirk confronts her about it, and she finally breaks down. And he helps her through it, please it would be much appreciated. If not that's okay. Please and thank you.

Kirk X Reader – A Great Man

A/N – Gotta admit, this one hit pretty hard. I always remember my granddad who, to me, was the best person in the world. I could say I’m sorry to all of you who’ve lost a grandparent, instead I’ll say this: Remember the good times, the music they listened to, the way they talked, everything; it’s better to have known them in the short time we can than to of never known them at all.

Warnings – Death of a close family member.

Rating – T

Every person to ever exist has those moments in life when it feels like a bomb has dropped. Those rare instances where time freezes and in pure deniability, we think about the things that don’t really matter; for you it was, “Why is the conference room so damn bright?”

Earth’s Starfleet HQ had just informed you that your grandfather had passed away and you could only think about why the room was too bright.

“By Starfleet regulations,” Admiral Amari, your old mentor at Starfleet continued, “you are permitted two weeks off to grieve. We are sorry for your loss.”

You forced your face into a serene mask, speaking evenly after a deep breath. “If it pleases Starfleet, I feel that I would be more effective working at my usual station on the bridge.”

“Do you not think it wise to rest and fully take in this news?” Amari cautioned.

“With all due respect ma’am, my grandpa taught me to celebrate life rather than mourn death.”

“Very well. You may return to work as soon as you see fit on the condition that you get your CO’s approval. Over and Out.”

You saluted before the screen flashed off, then left the conference room to meet the Captain for permission to work.

As soon as the turbolift opened, all eyes were on you. It was apparent that everybody knew somebody close to you had passed because that was practically the only reason anyone received a call from their planet’s Starfleet HQ. Kirk left the Captain’s chair, moving with urgency to meet you at the door, his face was creased in concern.

“(Y/N).” He whispered, forgetting all formality and using your first name. “Starfleet already informed me of your circumstances. You don’t have to- I mean… Take all the time you need, I’m sorry for your loss.”

‘I’m sorry for your loss.’ You turned the phrase over in your mind. It was such an odd saying really. Why should people apologise for something beyond their control?

You replied with a conventional head bob. “Thank you for your condolences Captain. Please may I return to my station now?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Kirk’s eyebrows flew up at the unusual request.

“Captain, my grandpa was the best man in the world to me and I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t upset but right now but I can’t just sit in my room overthinking everything. I would prefer to be here, doing my job instead of twiddling my thumbs, doing nothing. Is that okay?”

Kirk nodded hesitantly, “Alright, but only if you’re sure.”

You nodded and moved to your station where a holographic map of the solar system you were in appeared upon sensing you. You began scanning the nearby planets and stars for any anomalies, taking comfort in the pulsing beeps that came through your headphones.

Throughout the following weeks, the quality of your work slowly deteriorated along with your emotional well-being. At first you would only fail small tasks that went unnoticed such as misfiring a probe or miscalculating the worth of a mineral deposit. However, each day of work took a toll on you, leaving behind a numb, empty husk in place of the bright-eyed Starfleet officer with a passion for work. Finally, unable to care about any tasks left to you, you made a mistake which almost cost the landing party their lives.

After your error, you were called to a meeting room where Kirk and McCoy were waiting. Under their scrutinising gaze, you apologised quietly, never feeling the full weight of your words; you had almost cost someone their life, yet for some reason, you didn’t hold much regret for the situation.

“No Lieutenant.” Kirk growled. “Some good people almost died down there today, I don’t want an apology, I want to know why you didn’t realise the distress beacon was a trap.”

In all your years working under Kirk, you had never seen him angry at you, it brought the full severity of the situation down hard; the death of another officer could have been your fault and up until now you hadn’t really cared. What felt like invisible constricting bands clasped tightly around your lungs, making it impossible to breathe properly. You raised a hand to your throat, spluttering and gasping horribly.

Kirk’s brow creased in confusion, “What’s-”

McCoy pushed past him, sitting you on the floor, “Damn it Jim, (s)he’s having a panic attack.”

Kirk looked terrified as McCoy started giving you simple instructions, starting with yes or no questions about your medical history. After about a minute, McCoy sighed irritably and glowered at Kirk who was hovering restlessly above him.

“What are you still doing here?” McCoy hissed. “You want to help (Y/N)? Go get my damn medical bag from sick bay.”

Kirk nodded, pelting out of the room as McCoy counted down the breaths you should be taking on his hands, holding up finger each time he wanted you to take another deep breath.

“I used to have a dog that well trained.” McCoy noted calmly, “till my wife took it in the divorce. Still, joke’s on Jim, I don’t even have a medical bag but I expect Nurse Chapel will keep him distracted long enough.” McCoy saw your quizzical expression and begun to explain himself. “He was like a bull in a china shop, bucking around here, wondering what he could do; the best he can do now is bother somebody else. Of course, he uh, wouldn’t do that with many people; I probably shouldn’t be the one to tell you but he cares about you.”

Even if you could have spoken, you wouldn’t, instead you kept your focus on steadying your breathing which had almost returned to normal. You’d never been blind to Jim’s affections and although the thought of pursuing a relationship had crossed your mind, you’d never encouraged it, mainly because you were afraid of what it would do to your friendship if things ever went wrong. Now however, was not the time to be thinking of relationships, McCoy must have sensed it too because he changed the subject. “Look, the body’s no good without the mind and the mind can get just as ill as the body. You need time to mourn, I’m-”

Kirk burst into the room panting. “I’VE GOT THE BAG.”

“What took you so damn long, I don’t even need it now.” McCoy griped.

“Wait, wha-”

“(Y/N)’s agreed to take a month off for mourning, right (Y/N)?”

Knowing there was no use in arguing, you murmured a quiet, “Yes.”

“Now if you’ll both excuse me, I’m going back to med-bay.” McCoy took the dummy bag from Jim on his way out, leaving the two of you alone.

Jim approached you cautiously, joining you on the floor. “So… this was about your grandfather then.”

You nodded.

“Want to talk about it?”

Fresh tears flowed unchecked, until now you hadn’t quite known how much you needed to talk to someone. “I-” You gulped. “I’m afraid I’ll forget him. It’s getting more difficult to remember his smell or the way he laughed; I don’t want him to leave me.”

“Tell me something about him, something only people close to him knew.”

You pulled a flat disc out of your pocket, pressing the surface to reveal a hologram of your grandpa; you didn’t remember putting it in your pocket but you were glad it was there now, ready to comfort you as needed. “He… he always called me ‘My dear.’”

“And…” Kirk prompted, wrapping his arms gently around your shoulders, drawing you to him.

“And he loved the song ‘Raindrops Keep Fallin’ on My Head.’”

“I haven’t heard that one before.”

“It’s old.” You hesitated before releasing a shaky breath and singing the opening line. “Raindrops keep falling on my head, and just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed.”

Kirk held you tightly while you sung, listening peacefully to every note. In that moment, he promised himself that he would be there for you while you recovered, making sure you were no longer alone. Although you had a rocky start, he was sure that now you were talking and taking the time to properly mourn and cry, everything would eventually be alright, for where death is present, life always goes on.

#reader #reader insert #fanfiction #captain kirk #james t kirk #james t kirk x reader #jim kirk #jim kirk x reader #kirk #captain kirk x reader #kirk x reader #star trek #a great man #Anonymous

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everything-in-particular · 7 years

Note

1-100 also 😘

Honestly I deserve this payback. This is gonna take forever to answer.

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

More cereal

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

I don’t know what winter is I live in Texas

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

I use literally whatever I have in my hand at the time, paper clips, snickers wrappers. There’s no cute bookmarkes It’s all dog ears and trash.

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

In large quantities and in many different ways. Coffee, black with some sort of flavor. If not that then just coffee and creamer, no sugar. Tea is usually chai or black just with milk.

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

No! And No one should be! Smiles to me are the most attractive thing about people.

6: do you keep plants?

I’ve had a succulent for six months and I have not watered it nor cared for it and it’s still alive so…

7: do you name your plants?

I have another succulent that has five stems and my friend named them all after the scooby doo gang.

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

I don’t have feelings. But I have literally exhausted all artistic mediums.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

My favorite thing to do is belt out songs when I’m home alone or driving in a car so yeah.

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

Trick question I don’t sleep

11: what’s an inner joke you have with your friends?

I have too many. With my best friend sometimes we just scream old people names at each other in text.

Example:

Bff: ALFRED

Me: BERNARD

Bff: ALTHEA

Me: KEITH

Bff: KEITH!!!

And then with a couple other friends we have one where we yell the “Where are you” from Blink 182’s “I miss you”

12: what’s your favorite planet?

This one. Its really nice. lov the oxygen. having rings lik saturn here would be neato but its cool.

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

I was planning to make brownies tonight and then I gave up half way through so I just ate brownie batter and it was great, college is great.

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

It’d be one of those open industrial plans with lofts and spiral stair cases and wooden frames on the ceiling. Big windows

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

if two untreated metals in space touch they will bond permanently bc there is no oxygen to form an oxidized layer around the metal. Dont wear earings in the vaccum of space i guess. You’ll never be able to take the backings off

6: what’s your favorite pasta dish?

All.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

Green

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

We had the cops called on us because on of my friends barked at my neighbors dog.

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

I have my notes on my phone and in it are about 807 entries ranging from random shit like a single word “zoo” with no context or explanation. Entire novels that I was writing and gave up on the last chapter, also conversations with no context between characters that I made up that have no names. Also, recipes for stupid things like Mac and cheese balls, ideas for artwork/stories/products. Essentially nothing is finished. I also have around 10 sketchbooks that have never been completed.

20: what’s your favorite eye color?

All of them but the ones that are like brown and then transition to blueish greenish at the edges at trippy and cool.

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that’s been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

I struggle with bags and purses. I always leave them places. This is why I am a very passionate advocate for womens clothing to have bigger pockets

22: are you a morning person?

If by morning do you mean when I wake up at 2pm? Because even then no. Don’t talk to me when I’ve woken up.

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

Sleep

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

Yeah it’s really nice.

25: what’s the weirdest place you’ve ever broken into?

Not weird just a new house that hadn’t been bought yet.

26: what are the shoes you’ve had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

See I get a pair like that once a year and I’ll wear the shit out of it then they get holes and I have to get rid of them.

27: what’s your favorite bubblegum flavor?

Mint. I hate the taste of bubble gum flavor bubble gum

28: sunrise or sunset?

If I’m awake to see a sunrise I am not a happy person that shits too early. Sunset all the way

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

Exist

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

Yeah. I’ve been absolutely freaking terrified.

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

I like cool socks and I enjoy wearing socks but also I cannot be bothered to actually find a pair to put on in the morning so I never wear socks.

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

Literally every fun story happens after 3 am, id be here all day.

33: what’s your fave pastry?

I fucking love Pillsberry Crescent croissants. Like don’t give me legit croissants made in France, I won’t like it as much as pillsberry.

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

It’s name is Chicky and it’s actually I think supposed to be a stuffed duck, but I was 2 so I called it Chicky. Fun fact, my mom and everyone would ask me if Chicky was a a boy or a girl because I would call it he and she interchangeably and usually just Chicky. And my response would always be. “It’s just Chicky” and then they would ask “but is it a boy or girl?” And my three year old self was just like “??? Are you not paying attention? It’s a Chicky” so yeah I was fighting gender normatively at a young age, I was a pretty woke 3 year old.

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

I’m hella picky about nice pens but I don’t care how they look just how they write.

36: which band’s sound would fit your mood right now?

Of Monsters and Men

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

It’s not that I like keeping it messy but it will always always always be untidy.

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

When people speak for me. Like when someone asks me a question and then someone else goes “Well Annaleise doesn’t want to-” or something along the lines of that. Like I’m right here and I can speak for myself thanks.

39: what color do you wear the most?

Gray.

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

I gotta small silver rose necklace that I got for my 16th birthday. And I haven’t taken it off since. I used always love painting and drawing and making a doodling roses. And my mom picked up on it and gave me the necklace.

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

Always Harry Potter.

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

I’m a slave to Starbucks but there’s a cute place on our campus called The Nook and it’s super hipster and they have huge chalk board walls for people to draw on which I love and of course they have great coffee.

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

Fourth of July a couple years ago with my cousins. My aunts house is on a lake and the sky is super clear and we could see satellites orbiting. First time I’ve ever seen satellites. Super cool.

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

Spring break when I finally got back home from college I took a heavy dose of Benadryl because of allergies and I woke up in my own bed feeling soft and sleepy and I had not responsibilities at the moment and it was great.

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

Do people not?

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

No puns are the worst. but what do you call a cat who bought a house? A hoMEOWner

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

Coleslaw and coconut water

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

I used to be terrified of lava and tornadoes and while I can’t say I’ve ever seen lava I now go outside whenever there’s a tornado siren so see if I can spot the tornadoes. Now my biggest fear is failure. Isn’t that fun?

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

I like the aesthetic of record players but I do not have the patience to actually go out and buy one, pull out a record, and put it on to listen to the music. 1) because I’m all about instant gratification bc I have like no self control so if I can play it in two seconds on my phone then why would I go through all the trouble of a record and 2) I rarely like all the songs from an album. My music taste is all over the place so even if I like a band I like maybe 3 of there songs and they’d be from different albums.

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?

I collected coke cans and bottles. Like any special/old/limited edition coke cans or bottles I would keep them. I have a whole shelf in my closet. I now collect mugs.

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

My brother and Kid Cudi’s “Mr. Rager”

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

The funniest and most random to me has been the “Cask of Amontillado” meme. Also Bone apple tea and student athlete memes kill me idk why.

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

I fuck with Heathers (but the musical) and I have seen beetlejuice but it’s been a while. Not seen the others tho.

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

My mom.

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

When I was younger I saw in a movie that trick where you put a chair against a door handle to block people from getting in so I used to do it whenever I got mad at my mom.

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

I like when people get in a silly mood.

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

I can’t not dramatically reenact the lyrics and I don’t trust people who don’t.

58: who’s the wine mom and who’s the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

In all groups of friends I’m usually the vodka aunt.

59: what’s your favorite myth?

The Trojan Horse has always been hilarious to me because sneaking a whole army into a city through a wooden horse they made sounds like something I would come up with. It’s ridiculous but it still worked.

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

Yes, and not to be mainstream but Edgar Allen Poe is my bro and according to my grandma we’re related to him through his cousin. But in middle school I had a really awesome English teacher who was obsessed with him and I basically know “The Raven” “Tell Tale Heart” “The cask of Amontillado” and “Annabelle Lee” memorized because of her.

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

I once gave a kids bop CD wrapped in candy canes for a white elephant. At another white elephant I recieved fabric sleeves that had tattoo graphics on them but it didn’t match my skin color. It was great.

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

TBH I don’t eat or drink until like 3 pm

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

Nothing in my life is organized.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

Black

65: is there anyone you haven’t seen in a long time who you’d love to hang out with?

Many people.

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

It’d have a bunch of different kinds of flowers that don’t match.

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

Super peaceful and chill.

68: what’s winter like where you live?

What is winter?

69: what are your favorite board games?

I loved Candyland as a kid.

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

FUCK.THAT.

71: what’s your favorite kind of tea?

Chai and Black tea

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

Yes I do need to jot everything down because I will forget. But do I? No.

73: what are some of your worst habits?

Touching bad skin on my face.

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

A super brave and bad ass who also has deep feelings and really cares a lot. Super creative and really hilarious. hot shit. coolest person i know

75: tell us about your pets!

I have a Maltipoo named Poppy and I love her. She’s super sassy and really smart. And yells at me through howling when she wants to play, usually with a toy in her mouth so it sounds super muffled and anything but intimidating.

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

Yeah actually I have a huge fucking project. I gotta make 3 vases for my Studio but instead I’m answering 100 questions. It’s my own fault tho. I started it.

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

Pink

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

Minions need to die

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

If anyone ever says “I was thinking about you the other day and-” it’s my favorite thing

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

White because it came with the house. I hate it.

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

a cool pillow

82: are/were you good in school?

I tested well and was good at essays but I was bad about turning in shit. So yes and no.

83: what’s some of your favorite album art?

Fleet Foxes

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

In theory I love tattoos and in theory I really want one. Will I ever be able to decide on a design? We shall see. Also my mom told us that if any of us got tattooed she’s dissown us.

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

I don’t like buy comic books but I’m obsessed with all things marvel and D.C. And so I’ll read online stuff.

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

Idk what this is so i googled it and i still don’t have an opinion of it.

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

Forest Gump, The Princess Bride, Star Wars.

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

Impressionism, specifically Monet, specifically “The Magpie”

89: are you close to your parents?

I tell them a lot but I also have to withhold a lot. My mom is pretty, uhh strict, conservative and you could say narrow minded. My dad is a little more relaxed but he always goes along with whatever my mom says so I’m careful.

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

I’ve literally only been once but I really loved Pittsburgh. I liked the industrial vibe. I liked how it felt like a small town and a big city at the same time.

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

My family’s trying to go to Canada so I’m excited for that.

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

Drowns in cheese

93: what’s the hairstyle you wear the most?

Ponytail, bun, in a hat, in a beanie, basically any way but down. I have a limited attention span and any time my hair gets in the way I go crazy.

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

My sister! She’s thirteen! Its ridiculous yesterday she was 6!

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

Working my ass off to finish this project and then little party I’m throwing in my dorm. The party I can already tell is a bad idea. Still gonna happen tho.

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

I have not updated my phone nor computer in years (not really but it takes a fucking while)

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

ENTP, Taurus, Ravenclaw

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

A few years ago and yes I wish I lived somewhere where I could do it all the time.

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

Float on by Modest mouse is my life’s theme song

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

Future. It’d be awesome to skip four years of this brutal program and arrive with a degree and a job. Five Years in the past means i gotta go through highschool again. Fuck That shit.

OKAY DONE SORRY FOR THE LONG ASS POST BLAME @jak

#aboutme

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