#like the very makeup of my brain is worthy of making people worried | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ryker-writes · 1 year

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hello ! how are you ? well if you dont mind, please vil schoenheit x reader (from ramshackle, she always had a crush on him but never tell him being afraid of being rejected), we all know that vil can be mean but we still love him, the reader is very kind and always worried about him ( like she always try her best to make him feel better when he's not okay and feel loved, because he grow up with no mother, like a mother with her son having so much mercy on him), one day she'll looks at him with tears in her eyes, touching his face slowly then cries ( she always loved him and want to be in a relationship with him, but she's afraid of not being happy with him because sometimes he's mean, and arrogant, so she's lost inside not knowing what to do) and you can continue what will happend !! thank you and good luck !! ( the reader can be gender if you want i dont mind, sorry for my bad english >~< !!) 💕💖

heyo! I'm doing well thanks for asking! I'm very much enjoying writing requests. I enjoyed writing this! It's kind of soft moments with the TWST characters (especially one's like Vil) that I love. I was a little unsure of how to end it so sorry if it sounds awkward or Ooc. Anyway I hope I was able to do your request right and thank you so much for the request! <3

it was hard not to like Vil

he's very intelligent, talented, passionate, and hard working

not to mention his beauty

just looking at him is enough to take your breath away

but he had hundreds of fans who also saw this

and they wanted all of his attention

Vil was kind enough to give them plenty

he was always so nice to them

of course you liked Vil

he was always trying to help those around him look their best

Vil wanted to surround himself with people he deemed worthy

and that meant they had to look and act beautifully

he always was correcting others looks, language, and behavior

sure he could be mean about it sometimes and people often saw it as him bossing them around

but you always knew there was more to it than that

you knew that he simply strived for beauty in every aspect of his life and that included those around him

it was hard not to love Vil

very few get the opportunity to be alone with him

you considered yourself very lucky to be one of those people

it was getting late and almost time for the celebrity to rest for the night

he didn't say anything, but you could just feel that something was wrong

but when you asked he simply said nothing was wrong

a lie

you could tell

so even though he didn't tell you what was wrong, you reassured him that he could tell you if something was wrong

he just hummed and told you that you should probably be heading back to Ramshackle and he has to get ready for bed anyway

after all you shouldn't see Vil without his makeup and being less than perfect

he wouldn't want that to happen

but you just smiled at him

"You're already perfect without any of your makeup. Besides, your beauty goes beyond just your looks."

there was silence for a minute before he chuckled

"I suppose you're right. Thank you. You should be heading to bed though. Getting enough sleep will help your skin."

of course you loved Vil

but you would never tell him

you've seen how mean he can be to some people and he can really tear them down under the guise of helping them

Vil would never accept your love anyway

he had so many other fans that loved him, why would he choose you?

Vil had a rough day today, so naturally you were there for him

he had been standing in front of you and venting about all the trouble the first years caused

he was insulting all the first years as he talked

hearing him just absolutely tear into the first years had started something in your brain

would Vil talk about you like this if you did something wrong?

you love Vil, you truly do

but would you be able to take his insults day after day of being with him?

could you even be happy like that? being with the one you love but he treats you like that?

at some point Vil had stopped talking and was now fully facing you

he never liked being worried or stressed because it can cause wrinkles and acne, but there he was with a worried expression

you heard him ask why you were crying

you were crying? since when?

had your thoughts really driven you so far that you were crying in front of him?

he probably thinks of crying as an ugly thing right?

would he start insulting you here and now for doing something so ugly?

slowly, you reached out to cup his cheek

though you're not sure why you did so

he didn't push you away or try to stop you at all

he even leaned into your touch and sighed

"If you felt that strongly about the first years, you could have told me."

shaking your head you mumbled, "It's not that. I just..."

"You're tired of hearing me talk like this."

hesitantly you nodded

that may have been part of it, but he doesn't need to know the rest

he hummed, "I suppose I haven't been to kind lately. How horrible of me. You're too kind to me and I just stand here insulting everyone else."

gently, he set his hand atop yours and removed it from his face

his fingers intertwined with yours and he used his other hand to wipe the tears off your face

"This would be so much easier if you just confessed your feelings already."

w h a t

no really, what?

he knows????

how does he know?

was it obvious?

Vil seemed to sense your internal panic and chuckled

"I've had people fall in love with me before Darling. It's easy to recognize. I'm more surprised you haven't said anything. If you did then I'm sure all of this would be easier for you to talk about. So tell me, why haven't you?"

there was a moment of silence as you processed everything

once your brain had a moment to catch up, you told him

"I'm just a bit worried. You can be really mean sometimes, and I just...I don't know if I can handle that."

for a split second, he looked offended before sighing again

"I would never want to be mean or insult you, ever. You are the one person who doesn't need me to help with their appearance. Even I can't improve what's already perfect."

Of course, Vil loved you too

#twisted wonderland #twst #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #twst vil #vil schoenheit #vil x reader #vil shoenheit x reader #twst vil x reader

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electraslight · 2 years

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got any gwevin headcanons?

here ya go!! sorry if i have less of these my gwevin thoughts are borderline incomprehensible if youre not down w the liz lore.... most of my gwevin shit is so far divorced from canon theyre completely different lawl

-when gwen moves away to go to college kevin comes over to her house w toiletpaper and lightbulbs bc you never remember those when youre first moving out

-gwen actually distrusted kevin heavily when they first met because of their prior meeting but was civil and friendly because she'd been burned before by being outright rude to people she distrusted. this in turn made him obsessed with her bc people are nice to him so rarely

-kevin actually wears more makeup than gwen (whos more of a tinted lip balm and moisturizer type girl) so he does her makeup for special events

-kevin and gwen don't actually ever get married in the series (this is actually canon) and i think its bc even though kevin has a longer lifespan than someone like ben, he'll still die long before gwen does, and shes scared of leaving someone she loves behind. both kevin and gwen r very against the 'saintity of marrige' as well bc of their families so they just stay unmarried for the rest of their lives. they get ben to be a surrogate for devlin though :))

-kevin is very empathetic but not very good at social cues, so he often does things that he feels will help/ empathize with people but doesnt understand the signals they're putting out, if that makes sense, so he'll often try to be affectionate with gwen when she's mad at him and it will just make things worse. gwen knows he's trying to be loving but her inherently judgemental nature makes her go through this endless cycle of confronting bad assumtions about him and trying to knock them down for the sake of the relationship. kevin sees this and appreciates that shes trying, but still feels like hes not worthy of her effort. theyll get through it dont worry

-gwen is a fucking HORRIBLE driver, and has crashed cars multiple times including kevins, but he forgives her no matter what bc she just makes big eyes at him and he forgets that he was mad at her

-gwen grabs kevin's padlock to yank him down to talk to her. 99% of the time this cuts off the air in his windpipe but he gives zero shits because he gets to look at her face to face

there you go!! again, this stuff is purely brain speculation lol. i hate the heteronormative fixer upper type trope so much but theyre so cute i cant resit it, so i make up shit in my head lawl. gwevin is only good when gwen is the boyfriend and kevin is the girlfriend methinks. thanks for the ask!!

#gwen tennyson #gwevin #kevin levin #ben 10 alien force #ben 10 #ben 10 omniverse #ben 10 ultimate alien #ben 10 uaf #ben 10 original series #ben 10 headcannon

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awkwarddystopianwarlord · 1 year

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I Can

Selling oneself is a good skill to have, one that I am very bad at. I have three main reasons for this.

One. I have anxiety, diagnosed now. I don’t like talking, nor do I like talking about myself. I get nervous that people will grow tired or annoyed or simply won’t care at all.

Two. I don’t want to be like those people. What I mean by that is, the people who brag about how grand they are or how fantastic they look and they never seem to find any flaws with themselves. On top of that, they tend to act like they’re better than everyone else. I never wanted to be like that so when I say anything positive about me I worry that it comes off in that pretentious way.

Three. I’m used to not being particularly good at a lot of things. Therefore, I feel guilt. I feel bad if I’m good at something. It seems stupid I suppose but that’s what it is.

I need to stop overthinking though. You can be proud of yourself and humble. You can admit your wins and your losses. It’s okay to be capable of something. So I’m going to try to appreciate those things about myself in this post.

I can dance. I can do multiple kinds of dance and I’m either intermediate or advanced for all of them. I’ve danced my whole life so that’s to be expected but I am going to say it without fear, I can dance.

I can perform. I am scared of being alive on normal ground but if I’m on a stage, I give it my all.

I know how to dress. I have a style and it’s good. It may not be everyone’s cup of tea but I know how to put clothes together in a way that makes sense in general and for my particular body shape.

I can do makeup. I may not be a beauty guru but I know how to work with my face and express myself through makeup. I know what goes where and how to apply it. I know how to make things neat and I know how to accent my facial structure.

I am funny. I know people have told me I'm funny throughout my life quite often. I know I’ve made people laugh. I just have a hard time saying it. But here goes, I am funny, I have a good sense of humour, and I’ve amused a lot of people.

I can be pretty. I’m not really a conventionally pretty person but I can still look pretty. I can put together a fancy look and pull it off even without those generally lovely features. It takes longer and I have to put some work in but I can do it.

I am smart. I didn’t do that well in school and I’m not exactly up to date on pop culture but I’m not stupid. I know a range of things. I can follow complicated plots and read between the lines and retain information about my interests. I don’t have as wide a span of topics in my brain as some others but I’m still intelligent.

I am a unique individual and, though that comes with some struggles, I can be found endearing because of it. I make friends by accident, I entertain those around me, I stand out in a natural, unfalse way.

I try to find positives about myself, mostly physical. That is the main thing I see though. I have gotten better over time, I now have about as many likes as I do dislikes about my body. I just need to focus more on my brain now too. I know that I’m good at things. I know that I know things. I know I’m worthy of love and appreciation and respect. I’ve accomplished and tackled and conquered and defeated many challenges, fights, and obstacles. I can do it again. I’ve been beaten down by life so many times but I can stand up again. Like that lady in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, I may be but little, but I can be fierce.

#thoughts #positive thoughts #self worth #self love #writing #blog #weeklyblog #friday post

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infectedpaul · 3 years

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You Matter To Me (Squip/Reader)

You've had your Squip for a bit now and it's been fine for the most part, until he brings up the idea of looking into romantic relationships with others which opens up a lot of wounds you wanted to just bury deep and forget about. But you can't begin the road to recovery without asking why you got there, right?

SO IVE NEVER....WRITTEN AN X READER B4 UGH HJKSAJDASKDJSA esp not for a near dead fandom OH WELL oh well oh well h ignore this my normal followers please please

(warning 4 talks of depression/self degrading talk, its hurt comfort yada yada i need 2 touch grass ik)

ao3 link if u prefer that!!

You weren't made for love, at least, you didn't think so.

For as long as you'd been looking for it, it was always so out of reach. Easily visible, sure. Walking past groups of friends laughing it up on the sidewalks, partners entangled in each other's arms, seemingly trying to make their love known for all. But for you to have any of that for yourself? The heat death of the universe would sooner come, surely.

You'd sort of given up on it. It would be nice, you'd think. To be held, wrapped up in someone's arms, and just to stay there for as long as either of you could want. That cozy, warm feeling of being with someone that you only saw in movies or read about in books. But you had just accepted it wasn't in the cards, so to speak. And you were fine with that.

Well, you told yourself anyway. You knew it was for a deeper reason, though, but that wasn't something you liked to think about too heavily.

It was easier to do that when you didn't have a roommate that could dig into your brain and pry every little detail about them out of you.

When you got your Squip, you didn't know it'd be so adamant about perfecting every little last thing you were. How long or short your hair was styled, if your shoes matched your eyes, how fast or slow you were walking and how too brisk would make you seem like you were constipated but too slow and your likelihood of getting run over by a horse-drawn carriage gone would go up much higher, nevermind that you've never even seen a horse in real life.

What you did know, by now at least was that the Squip was persistent, seeing himself as your guardian angel, a guiding light in your desolate dark world of humanity, ickiness and week old pizza boxes you were too unmotivated to at least move off the bed.

So when his ideal response wasn't given when he proposed seeking out a lovelife, he was...well,

"I'm not sure I understand." His head crooked to the side, puzzled by your surface level indifference, "You're of consenting age, marginally attractive and only slightly under average at socializing. Finding a mate can't be too hard."

His holographic form hummed a soft, near silent buzz, a small imperfection to his otherwise flawless binary makeup. Other than that, and the soft, tinted blue glow around his form, he looked completely human. A little too human, really. Something so real, realer than any CG or video game, but something was just...off, something from the uncanny valley. You hadn't kept him in this form long, you liked to change it up from time to time, maybe to trick yourself into thinking he was someone new, making your brain think you had more friends besides the computer you bought behind a Rack Room.

You didn't look at him though when you responded, too preoccupied with the paper in front of you, decorated with a few characters concocted from your imagination. "I dunno," you shrug, brushing off eraser marks, "Just not my thing, I guess." You could feel his confusion, a bit of gut feeling as his thoughts jumbled in with your own. He was really only in your brain, afterall; the figure behind you sitting on your bed was just something he made up to ease your brain into trusting a new, larger source of perpetually growing information. "But, the purpose of this time in your life is to mate and birth young, is it not?"

You really wished he'd learn to stop talking about you and 'the homo sapien species' like you were a mindless ape made to breed and nothing else.

"Uh, I mean not really. I know that's what everyone around me is doing," Your mind thought back to all the cringey baby announcement videos from kids you knew in high school, "But it's...I guess I'm just not up for it. It's not really for people like me."

He was quiet. Only for a second, before he asked,

"People like you?" Another silence hung in the air. It was a truth you knew he could easily just reach into your brain and find for himself so you kept quiet for a bit longer, waiting for him to start digging. But you didn't feel it, that very familiar sudden ache in the back of your head you got when he went poking around for more things to nag at you about. Just quiet in your room, only the soft buzz and birds tweeting outside your window any solace from the uncomfortable silence you felt.

You shrugged again, and turned to face him, seeing now the muddled and a little concerned look on his face. "You know? The quiet ones, the losers. People like me don't get to be loved. I've just accepted that." You could have said a lot worse, and it seemed like he knew that. You didn't really understand, either. You didn't like yourself, plain and simple.

His concern only seemed to grow, eyebrows furrowing and staring intently at you. You thought for a second, maybe it was anger. It wouldn't be the first time. You were mostly compliant to his (mandatory) suggestions for life improvement, but every once in a while he would propose an idea that you would fight about, like clothes you weren't comfortable wearing for one reason or another. He said he was a learning computer, so he would need your help on things like emotions and comfiness, physical or mental, ruling out whatever the newest trends were. He would be fine afterwards but, he could get pretty huffy about you trying on too skinny-skinny jeans.

But that didn't happen, there wasn't a small but fierce jolt of electricity in your back to stop you from going against 'social programming', as he called it. He just looked at you a bit longer, seemingly turning gears in his head as he tried to process what you're saying.

You gave him a sober smile, trying to still seem indifferent, though for a second you wondered maybe if he was still prying at you, in a different way at least, because if he was, it seemed to be working.

"What? I'm just not that special. You of all people know that, right?" It was almost like you weren't hearing what was coming out of your mouth, that casual self-degradation that almost frightened him. You heard stories from message boards about that, older models of the Squip forcing reprogramming onto the host by breaking down their emotional state with verbal or physical punishment for...just existing, really.

He wasn't really like that though. Yes he could be annoyed when you didn't comply, but you were both good at compromise and treated situations like adults, even if at first you weren't much motivated to treat any situation at all. He informed you while you were looking through those boards that his creators had taken in accounts of previous incidents and built more of a guide to self-improvement than a ball and chain with a backhand. Humans were fragile, he knew that, and it wasn't okay to hurt them just to get a little closer to their goal.

But maybe, did he not think that humans were more than capable of hurting themselves? Their own words used against them, their internal voices bashing against their brains, turning them to mush and making them too scared or unmotivated to build it back up again.

"I just know no one would love some useless, pitiful person...I just kinda got over that a while ago." You almost frightened him with how nonchalant you were about the whole thing. It wasn't intentional, you weren't trying to seek attention or be funny. You just knew there was plenty of other people out there worthy of all that lovey-dovey stuff you thought would be nice but...it's just not meant for you.

There was a knot in his voice as he finally spoke up,

"That's why I'm here, isn't it?" The last piece of the puzzle had finally clicked into place, but he didn't look satisfied, not that cheeky, self-centered chagrin when things went his way or when he was proven right yet again.

You thought he knew that. You thought from day one he just figured that out and that's why he's been trying so hard to make you into a model citizen or something. "Did you just think you were here to help me pick out clothes in the morning?" You laughed, he seemed to know it was forced.

"Well...y-yes, maybe. I just...I never looked into that possibility of…" He was regaining his composure; this was a side you've never seen of him before. He's always been so astute, robotic and to the point. He's never fumbled over his words or had to give himself a second to figure out what to say next.

"How long has it been like this, Y/N?" His hands were folded neatly on his lap, still looking you dead-on, waiting for you to answer his distressed queuerie with worried patience.

You got up out of your chair, pushing it back and behind you to step away from the table and your drawings. "I dunno," you said, taking a few steps towards the long mirror hung on your wall, "for as long as I can remember, I guess." You looked at your reflection, only tired, dark eyes looking back at you. Even though the edge of the bed was visible in the mirror, your Squip didn't show up in it, another reminder of just how alone you were outside of your head.

"I just started to feel like I didn't belong more and more and...that ate me up so much I just started believing in it. I-I didn't wanna go to school or talk to people or even get up 'cause...well," You turned away from the mirror before you could see the tears you'd been holding back, looking at the more distressed figure in view of you again, "what would anyone be missing, really?" You still smiled, that big smile you both worked so meticulously on making seem not too forced when you had to act excited or just blend into normal social gatherings, but it wavered so easily, like a thin strip of paper about to tear off the nail that barely held it up on the wall.

His eyes widened at the sight of your tears, immediately getting up and briskly walking to stand in front of you, not knowing how to proceed in the moment. He hadn't had to deal with something like this yet and he was troubleshooting to see what was the correct response to a human breakdown.

You looked down, covering your eyes with one hand and clenching the other into a fist, big, strained smile still plastered on your face and trying so hard not to seem more weak than you knew you were. You were nothing. You knew that, you thought he did too. You thought you could just fix things, but how could you do that without getting to the source? You knew you couldn't just sidestep around why you wanted things to get better with humans, but with a computer who could read your brain like the newspaper, you thought maybe you could get around that.

You heard him sigh before a feeling of arms wrapping around you caught you off guard, the Squip entangling you in his grasp and his head resting on yours. It was all simulated, you knew. He had done things such as lightly punch your arm as if to say 'Good job, Sport!' or tap your shoulder to grab your attention without startling you, but this was different. He held onto you for a good couple of seconds, a wave of warmth spreading through your body in an instant. He pet back your hair with one hand, rubbing your back with the other and finally broke the silence in the room.

"Y/N, it- ...it pains me, hearing you speak that way about yourself. You're…" He looked down at you, holding you a bit closer and tightening his grip just a tad. "You're an incredible, talented, wonderful person. You've come so far and you've taught me so much about humans and myself and I just couldn't ask for a better-" He stopped. You knew what he was going to say, a better host, a better human, a better assignment to help and guide and-

"A better friend."

A friend?

He never referred to you or anyone with such a personal or affectionate term. It almost didn't seem real, like you maybe misheard him. Your smile had shattered into a small frown and, with teary-eyes and your voice already cracking, you looked up at him, meeting his almost-heartbroken eyes in an expression that looked so foreign on his normally composed face.

"What?"

He gave a weak smile, trying to be comforting but his fear showing plain as day. You could feel it within you too, a pit in your stomach forming as your chest tightened. You knew it wasn't your anxiety, but his.

"Do I need to repeat myself, Y/N? I think of you as a friend and..." His hand moved off of your back and ran itself up to rest on your shoulder, the other holding your cheek and wiping away your tears with his thumb. "I want to do all I can to show you that from here on."

You almost couldn't breathe as you looked at him, feeling for the first time that unconditional love you yearned for. You could feel your heart race in your chest, something you knew he could feel too but you were too crushed to say anything. You simply slammed yourself into his chest, grabbing fistfulls of his shirt that made your hands tingle like they fell asleep. His arms enveloped you yet again, the both of you holding onto each other so tight like either of you would fall through the floor if you let go.

You sobbed and sobbed and sobbed for what felt like hours, and, just maybe, you thought you could hear him crying too, but that'd be silly...right?

When you were finally out of tears to cry, you stood there still, simply bathing in each other's presence, the feeling you only saw in others finally yours. And you knew it was only a matter of time before this too was stolen from you, the universe would take back anything from people unworthy but...for right now, you wanted to be a little selfish.

"I'm sorry." You whispered, face still buried in his shirt.

"For?" His head was rested on yours again, holding up your weak and tired form with no effort, just trying to keep you propped up until you were ready to let go.

"I got you to help me but...I can't even let you in like I'm supposed to. But...I want to. I just want help." You pushed yourself off of him, one thought between you and him and his hands meeting yours, the simulated tingle in there again as you held each other's palms in yours and looked at each other with such exhausted eyes and worn-out but so genuine smiles.

He leaned down and planted a kiss on your forehead, a soft hue of pink blush spreading on your drained and exhausted face.

"I'd love to help, friend."

#dex says things #THE FUCK AM I DOING WITH MY LIFE FLDSJFKLDSFDS #THE WORST PART IS IM PROUD OF THIS UGH #be more chill #the squip #squip x reader #my writing #ITS 530 AM UGH

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marshmallowprotection · 3 years

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Camellia

Pairing: Choi Saeran/Reader

Description: Ray was a princess no matter what she thought of herself and you were determined to give her everything that a princess was worthy of. She was deserving of her fantasy and you were going to do everything you could if it meant that she could sparkle and shine as the royalty you knew her to be.

Word Count: 3934

Fem!Ray x Reader

[Read On AO3]

She had made it seem like there was nothing that she could ever do to allow herself to be the person that she wanted to be.

She had allowed herself to believe that there was nothing she could do to change anything about the situation that she was in. Yet, late at night when she was ruminating in her thoughts and when she spoke to you on the phone, it would reveal these little fantasies of hers that would make your heart swell with admiration and fancy.

Ray was a very interesting person. There was so much about her that you didn't know and yet there was so much that you wanted to discover.

The fact that you didn't know everything that you possibly could wasn't a bad thing, oh, you considered it to be a good thing because every moment you were learning something new about this kind-hearted soul who looked at you as if you can move the Sun and the Earth.

She put every ounce of her effort into maintaining the server and workup of the game that she had created. She was often so busy with making sure that everything was running the way that it was meant to, but she didn't get to see you as much as she wanted. You didn't get to see her as much as you wanted.

It was nothing personal, she was kind of a workaholic.

Even if it was trying to take care of herself by making a nice meal, or getting some rest. She was always concerned about making sure that you were okay more than anything else. It was never about what she was doing or what she needed to do to make sure that she was having a good day. It was always about your comfort and what you needed to be happy in this place.

Never once had you seen Ray do something for herself.

She was incredibly selfless, to a degree that it was almost worrying because everything came before her health and well-being. It was why those little fleeting moments late at night when she would reveal secrets of her heart to you, that you would relish every second of it. You knew that nobody else had the privy of knowing her in the way that you did.

You didn't know her through the way that the characters had been created when the game was in development with more than just herself behind everything, but what you did know was how she gauged your reactions when you were playing and how she was constantly searching for your reaction.

You could tell that she wanted to take everything you said seriously, and it wasn't just because she was a developer that wanted to make sure that no bugs were going wrong. No, never once had you felt like this was a business transaction between people. She hung on every single word that you said like it was a lifeline.

The way that she looked at you when you were talking was like someone seeing the Sun for the first time, or seeing the moon on a cloudless night

Ray listened to you and treated you better than anyone that you had ever met in your entire life.

She made you feel like you are on cloud nine, and never once did you feel like your presence was unwanted or unneeded. She made you feel like you were truly something special, and it was because of that that every time you thought of her, you could feel your heart fluttering in your chest.

There was no denying that you felt something strongly for Ray. You weren't going to shove that feeling aside because it was just so palpable now that there was no ignoring it. It did give you an idea of something that you could do to make her feel like she was special. Because one thing that you had noticed in her late-night ruminations was her desire to feel like your princess.

Ray would spin these stories when she was having a hard time sleeping or when she was working so hard that she needed to relax her brain for just a minute to be able to continue working as hard as she was. She mentioned that she would close her eyes sometimes and imagine herself as a princess who lived in a tall tower.

She saw herself as someone that had been trapped and hidden away from the world for her protection by her Savior and guardian, yet, she kept gazing out of the window to see the world that she was being protected from.

She longed to touch the grass, the trees, the sky, the seas, and anything else that she could.

The part of her story that made your voice hitch was when she mentioned the lovely princess that lived outside of her tower that would wander in the gardens that she desired to see firsthand. This princess was far more beautiful than the flowers and made the trapped princess both envious and fall in love at the same time. She yearned to walk the gardens with the freed princess.

Every time she would reach the end of her little story, you would shiver as she whispered, “That princess… she’s you, my precious game tester. Like Briar Rose, wandering the forest without a care in the world… waiting for her dreams to come true as she fails to realize just how lovely she is… and maybe… maybe soon she’ll stumble into her destined love.”

With stars and affection in her eyes, she would call you her favorite princess. You knew that she thought well of this fantasy because she had decorated the room that you were staying in to feel like a room meant for a princess. She would always bring you flowers, and she would go out of her way to make sure that everyone treated you with the utmost care.

It made your heart flutter so strongly that you didn't know what to do. But, what were you meant to do? What could you say when someone of her wonder and amazement called you something like that?

All you could do was think of how she made you feel and how warm you felt on the inside. You have never felt so strongly for someone before in your entire life, and you wanted to give her the world. She wanted to give you the world, but you were very hell-bent on making sure that she had it first.

Yet, she deserved to be that fairytale princess who ran amongst the flowers and tasted the sweetest berries that could reach her lips. No, she needed it and you were going to find a way to do it. No matter how much you had to do to make it happen and no matter how much thought and planning would go into it.

Ray deserved to feel like she was on top of the world because she, more than anybody you ever knew, was worthy of admiration. If it could only be possible for a day, you would make sure that she had a day where she was allowed to be herself and allowed to be the princess that you knew she was.

So, you set out making a day just for Ray. It took some thought and convincing on your end, but you managed to piece together everything you needed. There were a lot of little parts that had to come together to make things work, and you had done all of it on your own without any help in the slightest apart from one or two things.

Ray’s birthday was very soon and thanks to that fact, and you weren’t sure how you did it, but you had gotten the Savior to let Ray have a couple of hours in the afternoon off-duty. You had a feeling this might be the only time she would get a break this month, so you were going to make the best of it so she would have a moment to look back on and smile in tough times.

“What’s all this…?”

“You’ll see, Ray, it’s a surprise.”

It was meant to be a surprise because she seemed floored when someone came to her workroom to bring her to your room. Though, you paid her surprise no mind and beamed. It was always you who was escorted to meet her in the gardens on days like this, so she never thought that someone would come and ask her to do the same.

She seemed unsure of what to think at that moment but when you extended your hand to her, she took it and you knew that she was putting all of her faith into you.

You put your plan into motion without a second thought, “Is it okay if I style you for the day, Ray?”

“Style…?” she looked at you as her brow furthered. “Oh, do you mean that you want to… do my hair and things of that nature?”

Nodding, you agreed. You sat her down at the vanity mirror and offered to do her hair and makeup for the day. Her hair was always neat and properly curled whenever you saw her in the morning, but she claimed that she only had enough time to put on strawberry gloss when she paused in front of the mirror.

“It won’t take too terribly long,” you promised.

Ray kept her hands clasped together on her lap as you gently ran a brush through her curls. “I don’t mind… I’m flattered that you want to do something like this for me. Take as long as you want.”

She was patient and understanding, but a part of you felt like she said that because she liked the feeling of you fawning over her like this. You wouldn’t deny that you didn’t feel the same way as Ray showered you with adoration. When she pressed a hand to your cheek and gazed deeply into your eyes, you would’ve done anything she asked.

It was as simple as that.

When you beckoned her forward, she would follow, and when she urged you to come to her side, you would follow. It was like a song and dance that you knew very well, each of you taking turns at leading the melody along.

You were very careful with her skin as you applied some foundation and rouge. Her skin was very light because she didn’t go out very often, almost like porcelain that was close to breaking if you weren’t careful with the way you held it within your hands. She was naturally a beauty but you wanted to help her feel confident in that.

She always complimented the way that you did your makeup, so it only seemed fair that you do something amazing in return. She refused to look into your eyes as you dabbled some gloss on your finger and brushed it against her lips, though you could feel her watching you from the corner of her eyes.

Though she claimed her lips were often dry and cracked, you could claim otherwise, and you couldn’t help but wonder what it would feel like pressed against your lips. You had to shake the thought away whenever it arose because you weren’t going to nudge her into doing something that she wasn’t ready for.

Her hair was shoulder-length, but the curls that you touched up with heat and spray bobbed just over them thanks to the tight swirls in her hair. Her bangs often fell in front of her eyes, but you had the foresight to gently tuck it back out of the way with a flower hairpin that was amongst the items that she had given to you with the room.

Ray leaned into your touch every step of the way, and when you pulled your hand away to admire your handiwork, she followed your touch until she realized what she was doing. Her cheeks turning warmer and warmer as she tried to hide her embarrassment. Ray was starved about as much as anyone could be for physical touch.

She hadn’t looked at the mirror yet. However, she did look at you for answers and perhaps a reflection in your eyes. “How… how does it look, then? I mean, I’m sure it looks great since you’re the one that did all the work on something as plain and boring as me, but…”

“I think it’s missing something, actually, Ray,” you said.

You paused if only briefly to glance between Ray and the closet in the corner of the room. You weren’t done with her yet, however, and as lovely as she looked at the moment, you wanted her to be able to see herself the way that you always imagined her to be. Ray followed your eyes as if it would give her an answer.

Ray hesitated, “Missing something? You’ve already troubled yourself so much for me today… you don’t have to do anything more, I promise.”

“I have just the thing, Ray. Don’t worry about it. I think you’ll want to see yourself after we had the missing part.”

She seemed reluctant but she would never discourage you from listening to whatever you were thinking of doing. So, you led her over to the closet and tucked out the outfit that you’ve picked out personally for her to wear.

That had taken the most trouble to find with your limited sources here in Magenta, but you had gotten it after some soul-searching… and strong begging until someone sighed and did what you asked of them. You had your ways that worked and you were going to keep them until they didn’t work anymore.

You offered to help her get dressed, but Ray was still very anxious about revealing any of her body to you. You understood the sentiment and turned your back to her as fabric glided to the ground with a soft pitter-patter.

Fabric rustled and fluttered behind you until you heard that soft voice ask you to lace up the ribbon in the back of her as her hands were just a bit too short.

It only took you a few moments to tie back the pink ribbon with a few flicks of your wrist. With a smile, you led her back over to the mirror covering your hands over her eyes so it didn’t, “spoil the surprise too soon!”

The sound of nervous giggles flooded that room because you felt so giddy and Ray couldn’t stop the infectious feeling of your happiness. She had mentioned that plenty of times before and now you were just so happy that she was about to have a day fit for a real princess such as herself. As you took a step back, you felt her hand grasp at yours.

“...Wait,” she murmured. Her eyes were still closed tightly as if not to break the illusion that you had created. “I want to see us together.”

You smiled. “I could never say no to you, princess.”

At that nickname usage, Ray let out a gasp and opened her eyes. She looked at the mirror as it was the first thing she could see without checking where she was in the room, and her mint eyes settled on her face as she realized what you have done. She was staring directly at someone who looked every bit of the princess that she had tried to describe you to be. She didn’t say anything about it, she just kept staring.

You had carefully tucked her hair into neat curls but a good portion was curled back with a pink rose. She seemed to be admiring that detail for the longest time, and the big dress that she was wearing was very ornate in detail, every bit of a Lolita who aimed to dress like a princess in layered petticoats and ribbons.

It was pink, as you had surmised that she liked the color pink, but you added a little blue necklace around her neck since that had to be her other favorite color.

Despite herself, she let out the softest giggle that seemed to relish in her delight at how you’d dressed her. She clenched your hand once, twice, and then thrice. “I… I don’t know what to say… nobody’s ever done something like this for me before.”

“I told you, princess,” you lifted her hand to your lips as she hung on your every word. Her eyes watching you in the mirror. “Today is about you. Anything your heart desires. But, it’s not over yet, this is just the start. After all, I couldn’t take the princess out to her garden without making her feel as beautiful as she is on the inside.”

Ray murmured your name in surprise.

“C’mon, you’ve got more surprises, my lady.”

You could see the way that tears splotched to the corner of her eyes but she didn’t dare allow herself to cry and ruin what you had done. After a gentle tug of her hand, you were able to lead her out of the room and deep into the gardens.

You knew the path by heart now and you didn’t have to worry about getting lost. She didn’t need to worry about anything. You would do everything. You had asked someone to help you set out some of the details so you could focus on spoiling Ray in the meantime, and you were happy to see that someone had helped you.

They had set out the tea table as you had asked them to do, but the little cakes and pastries had all been of your making. Now, you knew you weren’t quite as great as she was when it came to baking—

But, you didn’t care about that. You knew it was a little sloppy, but Ray never once commented on that. She just held tightly to your hand and stared at everything. Her lips were parted into this small o-shape that she couldn’t hide. It was cute. You didn’t want to give away your laugh about it yet.��

She let go of your hand just to inspect everything. Her hands running against the edge of the tablecloth and admiring the detail that you had gone to for her, all to make sure that she had the tea she loved and the sweets that she had dreamed of tasting and making. It had been tough to figure them all out but it was worth it.

To see the look in her eyes and the wonder on her face made you so happy.

What mattered was that Ray got that date in the garden that she had desired for so very long. She talked about it so often that you knew how to paint the scenery down to the smallest detail. It was her dream to give to you, but you were gifting it back.

“This is…”

You already felt like you were special just by being at Ray’s side.

“Your dream, right?”

It was like her dream had come to life.

“How did you…?”

Ray spun around to face you as you set aside your phone, the gentle hum of music coming from the speaker as it rested against the table. This was a dream but it was reality at the same time, this was real. You offered her your hand and smiled, “You wouldn’t be too terribly bothered if I were to ask the princess for a dance, right?”

“The answer is always yes, for you,” she murmured.

Her gloved palm rested against yours without a moment of hesitation, but her eyes were filled with far too many emotions to understand all of them. You just knew that the star-struck look on her face made you feel electrified.

“Can I tell you a story?”

“I’d love to hear one.”

She leaned into your arms and the two of you swayed together as the music played in the background. It was the perfect moment.

“There was once a princess hidden away in a tall tower,” you began to say as the memory came flooding to you. “She loved to gaze out over the gardens of the castle next door. She knew that she was safe in her tower, but every day, she saw the princess of the neighboring castle visit the garden day after day, she found herself wanting to be close to the other princess, but never knowing how.”

“She thought that the princess would never notice her, so she resigned herself to gazing out of her window every day. However, what the tower princess didn’t know was that the princess that visited the garden had noticed her every day. That’s why she visited her garden so often. She came every day just to catch a glimpse of the maiden locked away in the tall tower.”

“Her favorite part of the day was when she realized that the princess had come to her window because she could see the girl with snow-white hair and rosy cheeks. One day, she made a plan, she decided that she would sneak the princess out of her tower for a day. She worked hard to find the hidden door to the tower, and visited her princess, offering to escort her outside for the day, as not to anger her mother.”

“The tower princess agreed because she was so taken with the garden’s princess, and the two of them shared a lovely day underneath a willow tree, folding rows of flower crowns and enjoying each other’s company. Though their perfect day did have to come to an end, neither princess wanted to leave the other behind now that they had finally met.”

That had caught Ray’s attention and she was now looking at you with a curious glint in her eyes, her head cocked. “What happened next?”

You were adding onto the story that she had created and painting a picture of hope for her instead of yearning that would never be completed. She hung on every word and you found yourself unable to look away.

“They both devised a plan to unite their kingdoms, but this plan was going to take time… they had to put their heads together to settle the fighting that started between their two kingdoms in the first place… however, they knew that as long as they had each other, they would be able to change things for the better, they decided all of that in a day, as they had fallen in love with one another.”

Your free hand grazed against Ray’s hip and she let out a little gasp at the soft touch. You leaned over and brushed your forehead against hers. Neither of you saying anything as she breathed in the breath that you exhaled. You weren’t sure whose heart was beating loudly at that moment, it could have been both of you.

“Do you want to know how they sealed their promise of happiness?” you whispered the question with a flutter of your eyelashes.

“How?” Ray asked.

Without saying another word, you simply kissed your princess and took her breath away with one gesture. Underneath the shaded tree of the gardens, you found peace and prosperity with your princess. You wanted to give her everything she could ever dream of and you had gifted that joyful dream into her hands.

Now, you could only hope that this paradise around you could truly become a place where Ray could be happy… if it wouldn’t, well, you wouldn’t stop until you could protect her heart from being hurt ever again.

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years

Text

Little Stars

A/n: THANK YOU GUYS SO MUCH FOR 1.5K!!! THISMEANS SO MUCH TO ME SO HERES A LITTLE IMAGINES I WROTE OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD THAN K YUO GUYS AGain

(this is way longer than I thought it would be! also not edited lol sorry)

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: maybe like one or two curse words, sexual tension??

Summary: Y/n is an up and coming artist. The problem is her collection deadline is one past up and coming. Lacking motivation since the job was assigned she is stuck the day before her deadline with no paintings or photos and thoroughly depressed. That is until shes see inspiration outside her window. Inspiration by the name of Lee Felix.

Genre: Fluff, strangers to ‘lovers’,

✧

Empty. My brain was empty. I had two months. Two months to come up with a small exhibit for a local gallery I was signed to. Two months. For five paintings. Or photos. Or both. TOO MANY DECISIONS. Decisions...granted I should have made...two months ago.

I sat near the biggest window in my apartment. Sunlight streamed through the glass, casting a natural glow on the stark white canvas. I just needed a theme. A subject. I know! I could do a five-part exhibition on tea kettles!

“Oh for pete’s sake, I’m going crazy,” I said head in my hands.

I can’t paint teapots. Flowers are overdone. What the hell am I supposed to paint? This exhibition was a huge deal. I had nothing and my deadline was tomorrow night.

That’s it. I’m done. My short career is finished. I should just throw away all my paints and pencils and chalk and coal and trash all the canvases that littered my apartment. I glanced at my phone which sat a few feet away from me on a small wooden table littered with tubes of paint and jars filled with brushes and blades covered in paint.

An hour had passed and I still had yet to touch my brush to the canvas. Groaning, I rested my forehead against the linen canvas. “Come on, Y/n. Search your artsy soul for inspiration.” I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I tried to imagine the canvas being filled by something beautiful. Something worthy of love and legacy. Something that could burn a hole in my life and set it on fire. Something to ignite my passion again.

When I opened them, of course, the canvas was still empty and my brain was too.

With the thousandth aggravated sigh of the hour, I sat up and looked out the huge window near me. My eyes caught on a flash of blonde hair. Down on the street, a boy with light hair and bright eyes was bouncing along with two other boys. They were joking around and laughing, as people who’s entire job wasn’t on the line would do. For some reason, I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

All of a sudden I could see the brush strokes of his hair on my canvas. The delicate lines of his eyes. I needed to paint him.

I launched myself out of the chair and rushed to the door. My feet took the stairs two at a time and I jumped the last three before sprinting out onto the street. My head turned in all directions trying to find the boy I saw from my window. Once again, I found his blonde mop bouncing and laughing down the street, away from my apartment.

“Hey!” I called out, running to catch up.

Good grief boys walk fast. “Hey! You! With the blonde hair!” At my words, the three boys turned around, astonished someone was running at them. After a few words, the boys started running away. “No! Wait! I need to talk to the Blonde Guy!” I yelled out of breath. Desperate, I ran after them. Thankfully they turned down an alley only a few feet away that I knew was a dead end.

I put my hands on my knees catching my breath. The three boys stared at me a little fearful. “Look, I just need to talk to Goldilocks. I saw him from my window and there was just something about you. It inspired me.”

“Well... yeah. We’re kind of famous. We get that a lot.” The boy with doe-like eyes and dark, almost black hair said like it was obvious. The boy with blonde hair elbowed him in the stomach making the other laugh.

“You’re famous?” I asked, finally standing upright. They looked between each other surprised.

“You don’t know who we are?” The youngest looking asked. He reminded me of a fox I painted once. “Sorry. We thought you were a crazy fan.” To be honest I hadn’t really been keeping up with the news or popular things lately. I had been holed up in my apartment trying to paint. “We’re from a group called Stray Kids. I’m Jeongin. The rude guy is Jisung, and that’s Felix.”

My eye immediately darted to the boy now known to me as Felix. “Felix...” I said looking him over. He was even more entrancing up close. He had soft sun spots dancing across his cheeks and nose that brightened up his face. Freckles. How cute. How different.

“Yeah...what’s your name?”

“Uh- I’m Y/n, Y/n L/n.”

Jeongin’s eyes widened. “Hyung! Isn’t she that painter that Hyunijn likes? He dragged us to that gallery last year to see her stuff.” Jisung nodded and looked from me back to Felix. “Our friend loves your stuff. He made us take a bunch of pictures of him in front of it.”

“Oh, that’s awesome.” I couldn’t take my eyes off Felix, and he noticed.

“Do you think we could like buy a painting off you? That would shut him up for like a solid six months.” Jisung said pulling out his wallet. “How much are we talking?”

“For something I have with me? Not in a gallery? Probably like....Fifteen.” I said, still quite distracted. My imagination was spiraling out of control with how I wanted to paint the boy in front of me. How I wanted to capture his image. Photograph him.

“Fifteen bucks? Great! That’s awes-”

“Fifteen hundred.”

Felix burst into laughter as the look on Jisung’s face fell. His hand was frozen, extended out in front of him, already prepared to give me fifteen dollars. My heart skipped a beat watching Felix’s bright grin. He practically glowed.

“I’ll make you a deal. I’ll let you choose any painting you want from my apartment and I’ll sign it for...Hyunjin, was it?” The boys nodded. “I’ll give it to you if Felix will help me finish my new exhibition. It shouldn’t take long. I’ll even-”

“Sure.”

Felix shrugged with a small smile, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He looked me over with a soft and happy gaze. It seemed I intrigued him as much as he intrigued me.

“My apartment is just around the corner.”

“Cool. Just a heads up, I’ve never modeled except for like album jackets and stuff.”

“Don’t worry about it.” The closer he got, the harder it was not to smile. Jisung and Jeongin were joking behind us, something about Felix finally getting into a pretty girl’s apartment, but it all kind of faded away as I walked back with Felix. I felt the passion to paint again burning in my stomach.

✧

Felix patiently waited as I opened the door to my apartment. When we entered I hastily cleaned up some random junk cluttering the counters as he looked around. There was nothing I could do about the multiple canvases lying in stacks all around the living room.

“Wow. You are really good.” He said looking at a large canvas painted with bright and happy colors near my kitchen. Why did the compliment feel different coming from him?

“Thank you very much. I’ve had a bit of a dry spell recently.”

“For how long?”

“Give or take three months.”

Felix chuckled and looked at the other paintings near him. While he explored my art-filled apartment, I set up my camera on a tripod near the window and adjusted the position of my easel. “So, how is this gonna work?”

“Um...I’m not entirely sure. I’ve never been inspired like this before. I really have no idea what medium I’ll end up using...so I’m sort of using...all of them.” Felix laughed again watching me frantically prepping everything I could possibly need. I didn’t miss the lingering stares he cast my way.

“We’re doing photos? Should I like put on a base or something?”

“NO!” He was a little shocked at my outburst. He probably wasn’t used to being photographed without makeup. “Sorry. I just- I don’t want you covered up. I want to paint everything. Everything about you.” I looked to see a shy blush on Felix’s face as he came to stand near me by the window.

“So, I sit here?” He motioned to the windowsill, overlooking the street on which I discovered him. The light hit him perfectly, bouncing of his cheekbones and practically giving him a halo.

I nodded quietly and adjusted a few settings on my camera before returning to my easel. Felix looked at me with a smile. I laughed seeing he was trying to pose and stay very still.

“You don’t have to do that. I’ll ask you to be still if I need to.”

The sound of the camera clicking filled the apartment as Felix watched me paint him. The lines came easy to me as if I had painted him many times before. He watched as I painted the lines of his face and his eyes quickly appeared on the canvas, staring back at me just like he was.

“Do you want some music? This will take a while. I’ve got five pieces to do.” Felix chuckled, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down and his eyes crinkling into crescent moons.

“Music would be wonderful.” With a smile, I shoved my wet paintbrush behind my ear, streaking my cheek and possibly my hair, and shuffled over to turn on my stereo. Felix let a curious grin slip onto his lips. “Classical?”

“Do you like it? It helps me focus.” He nodded and looked out the window. His eyes closed as the sound of soft violins floated through the apartment. “So, Felix, what’s your favorite book.” He was a little shocked at the random question, but that happy smile returned.

“Ummm...let’s see,” While he thought I continued painting, the basics of his face and form already done. I quickly painted the window and background so I could go back to focusing on the shadows and details of Felix’s face. My hands worked quickly, shading in the dark patches behind the cushions and curtains.

“Peter Rabbit.”

“Like the kid’s book?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong with that?”

“Nothing! It’s just different. I knew there was something special about you.” I said with a laugh, grabbing a smaller brush and looking at the shadows behind Felix. He tilted his head, resting it on the window.

“Why did you pick me?”

The movement of my brush stopped. My eyes met the dark brown stare Felix held. He smirked noticing the heat rushing to my cheeks. “I thought you looked like a shooting star.” His eyebrows rose and he tried not to laugh.

“That’s quite the artist's answer.”

“Well, I am an artist.”

He chuckled and started playing with the edge of his sleeve. “So, a shooting star?” Again, I blushed. The painting was almost finished I just needed to finish the details of his eyes and cheeks. “Yeah. I don’t know. You just seemed so full of life. Something fleeting. Something...ephemeral.”

“Ephemeral? As in not lasting? What am I supposed to turn into dust after you’ve finished with me?” He laughed, his eyes crinkling. My eyes trailed down his cheeks to look at the stars dancing across his skin. The freckles scattered about his cheeks. Delicately, I began placing each and every spot as Felix told me about his life.

“It’s finished.”

“Can I see?” He said jumping up from the window sill. I shook my head and grabbed the still wet canvas. “Come on, Y/n! Let me see!” He chased me around the living room trying to carefully grab the painting. I laughed when his arms wrapped around my waist and he pulled me to him.

“You can see it when the collection is complete! We have more art to make!” He laughed and let me place the painting away to dry. Together we walked over back to the window and he sat back down, watching me expectantly.

I scanned through the photos the camera captured. They were fantastic. They were the perfect candids. I could edit these into black and white and it would be gorgeous. Felix came to look over my shoulder. He gasped at the pictures.

“How the hell did you do that?” Felix gently took the camera and scrolled through the pictures. “Seriously. You were busy painting. How did you do this?” I shrugged and cleaned some of my brushes while he looked through the photos.

“Sometimes it is not about the angle or the position. It’s just what the subject is doing or feeling.” I took the camera and scrolled to a certain picture. “Like this one.” Felix looked at the picture. It was him leaning against the window, his eyes crescents and aimed somewhere off frame. “Do you know when this was?” He shook his head and looked to me.

“When I called you a shooting star.” Felix looked at the photo again, seeing it in a new light.

“So, what’s next?”

I felt so close to Felix. Like I had known him for years. Had it really only been a few hours? My eyes traced the lines of his shoulders and back. The perfect canvas.

“Can I...paint on you?”

His eyes widened for a millisecond and he let out a breathy laugh. “Have you done it before?” I shrugged and wiped my paint stained hands on my jeans. When I looked up he had moved a little closer.

“I’ve never really wanted to. Like I said, I don’t want to capture your image...covered up. It should be seen naturally.”

Felix smiled. “So, where are we doing this?” He said softly. My heart thumped against my chest. I pointed to an open space on the wood floor and he nodded. I grabbed some body paints I had lying around in a cabinet and brought them over to Felix.

“Let me know if anything gets uncomfortable and I’ll stop.” He nodded and slipped his shirt over his head. I motioned for him to lie on his stomach and he followed my instruction. Felix shivered when his tan skin touched the cool wood floor.

“What got you into painting?” Felix asked, resting his head on his arms. I picked out the brush I wanted to start with. My palm rested on his shoulder as the brush hovered over his back.

“I’m not really sure. You see...I really sucked at math.”

Felix let out the largest laugh, one that shook his whole chest. I took the opportunity to start painting. Soon his lower back was filled with swirling colors of blues and purples. “Is everything okay?” Felix asked, interrupting his own story.

“Yeah, just an awkward angle.”

“You can adjust if you want to. I don’t mind.” My skin started to crawl when Felix turned to me in the eye. Like he was inviting me to come even closer to him. He smiled at the blush on my cheeks before turning his head away. Hesitantly, I situated myself above Felix, slowly resting some of my weight on the lowest part of his back possible. I saw him smile when he felt my knees on either side of his hips.

Felix continued his story about something one of his friends named Chan did the other night. The sound of his low voice mixed with the music still playing guided my brush like it had a mind of its own. When I looked at my work, a nebula with hundreds of little stars was born onto his skin.

“I think it’s done.”

Carefully, I got off of Felix and helped him up. I set the camera up again and it started taking pictures. Taking Felix’s hand I pulled him in front of the lens and positioned him with his back towards the camera. He watched me as I positioned his body, my hands unintentionally lingering on his shoulders.

Felix turned to me as I began to pull away. “I didn’t know art could be so intimate.” I looked down to see his hand on my arm, his body was slightly turned at the waist towards me and his eyes bore into mine. Never had I felt this passionate about something other than art. I liked Felix. A lot. More than I should admit after just meeting the man. “Is it supposed to be like this?”

I shook my head, hoping he wouldn't notice I stepped closer. “No,” His hand slid around the base of my back. “Maybe you are a shooting star. I couldn’t have wished for something this incredible.” He smiled and looked down at me.

“Can I kiss you? Sorry...I just-”

“You really didn’t have to ask.” Felix, let out a small laugh, almost a giggle, making me smile. My fingers traveled up his neck and into the edge of his blonde hair. “Well, are you gonna do it or are you gonna chicken out, Felix?”

“Oh shh.”

His lips tasted like strawberries. He was gentle and slow, like he was savoring every moment. When he pulled away I rested my forehead against his. “I do not regret putting off my work until the last minute.” He laughed, his eyes brightening and lighting up the whole room.

✧

Standing in the gallery felt like a second home. My exhibition hung on the wall .It was one of my greatest yet. The gallery had given me an extension after seeing the semi-finished product. A group of rowdy boys walked towards me, a familiar and handsome face leading them.

“Y/n!” He called, running up and greeting me with a kiss. The other seven boys followed after him. One of the taller ones hung towards the back clearly nervous.

“You must be Hyunjin?” I asked reaching for his hand. His eyes widened and he shook my hand vigorously. His sharp features lifted into a grin and he laughed. “You might want to let go of my hand eventually.”

“Oh. Sorry. I’m just such a big fan.”

“I know. Felix has told me all about you. I’ve got a painting signed for you in my car.” Hyunjin’s jaw dropped and I swear he almost fell backwards had Jisung not been there to catch him.

“So, what is your collection called?” The boy Felix pointed out to me as Chan asked. Felix proudly wrapped an arm around my waist as I guided the group to the first piece.

“It’s called Little Stars.” Felix, blushed when I lightly pinched his cheek. The boys marveled at the first painting. It was one of Felix sitting in my window. It was the only piece in color. We moved on to the second piece. The photo I had shown Felix of him smiling.

The next photo was a frame I had cropped to show just his eyes. Even in black and white Felix still managed to bring color and life with just a single look. “Wow, Felix! I had no idea you were this cool looking!” Minho said, marveling at the photograph. Felix kicked him as we moved forward.

The second to last photo showed the painting I did on Felix’s back. He was completely turned away from the camera, but you could see my hands on his shoulder and waist. I had edited the photo so just my hands and arms were seen. Felix smiled and kissed the top of my head before the both of us led the group to the exhibit finale.

“DAMN FELIX!” Jisung yelled.

“Jisung. We are in an art gallery. Don’t yell.” Chan scolded.

“Sorry, but Felix got game.”

I laughed and looked at the photo; it was my favorite. Felix was half turned towards me but you could still see the nebula and stars on his back, his hand was gripping my waist tightly and he smiled down at me, our foreheads pressed together. You could see my fingers pulling away from the base of his hair, giving movement to the photo.

“This is incredible, Y/n.”

“Well, it’s all you so I should say so.” He kissed my cheek with that bright smile of his. “You really are my shooting star. I’m getting everything I could ever wish for.”

✧

Requests are open, my lovelies!

Masterlist

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valwrite · 4 years

Text

hide & seek; daveed diggs

masterlist

summary: Y/N L/N can´t keep a promise. (sequel to leap frog & hopscotch)

warnings: cushion violence.

fic style: drabble.

word count: 1807

author’s note: this is the third and final drabble from the leap frog series. sorry that it’s kind of short and not really as good as the other two, i’ve got a bit of writer’s block right now. like, i have tons of ideas of what i would like to write but, when i try to write, my brain forgets the whole english dictionary and is just like “qué?”.

It was official. Rafael Casal was going to kill Daveed Diggs and Y/N L/N.

The sun had barely risen an hour ago; the air was still crisp with the chill of the night; some people were just making their way home, exhaustion and last night's makeup painting their face, and there Rafa was stood, phone pressed to his ear whilst his fist banged against the oak door repeatedly. He'd spent fifteen minutes in the very same predicament, alternating between calling Daveed and Y/N. Neither of the two were picking up despite the fact he was sure he could hear their phones ringing from indoors.

It was typical, honestly, for the two to pull such a stunt on him. The poor man was juggling having to worry about his friends whereabouts and his own health, which was progressively slipping away from him as his stress levels grew from having both their close relatives breathing down the back of his neck and questioning him on where exactly the two could have disappeared to.

When they both had first agreed to spending the night apart, Rafa was quick to laugh in their faces and tell them they'd find themselves crawling back to the other by the end of the night. Hell, the two barely survived nights apart brought on by work- Rafa had once walked in to Daveed's hotel room and found him asleep whilst Y/N slept on his propped up phone screen, nothing but FaceTime to unite them during their time apart- so how in the name of Hell would they willingly choose to sleep without one another? The satisfaction of his impending "I told you so" was the only thing keeping Rafa going.

“Screw this." He muttered, shoving his phone back into his pocket. Crouching, Rafa picked up a few of the plant pots that decorated the front porch until he found the hidden key.

Quietly, and carefully, he turned the key in the lock. When the door opened, he pushed through slowly and held his breath, awaiting for it to squeak. A squeak never came, meaning two things: Daveed must have fixed the door and Rafa was safe to continue venturing into the home. Of course, he had to continue with the slowed movements and the careful breathing. The last thing he needed was to wake up the couple's four legged friend, that would only lead to an influx of tail wagging and puppy kisses being branded all over him. No, Rafa had to treat this like the most serious game of hide and seek he'd ever taken part in, on the off chance that Daveed was actually alone. The man was never a morning person, so being the person to wake him up, whether by accident or on purpose, was practically a suicide mission. Add that in with a reminder of the fact he'd (possibly) slept alone, Daveed was not going to be a happy bunny.

Rafa made his way through the living room where his eyes couldn't help but focus on the picture frames scattered along their television unit. They held so many stories, most of which he'd been present for and some he'd just been told about by the couple.

There was the cheesy one of them under some mistletoe on their first Christmas together, where Daveed had accidentally tripped over his own two feet and landed chest first into the cake she'd spent the whole day baking. There was the picture from a Warriors match they'd gone to, where Y/N spent most the night near drooling over the players and Daveed had silently prayed he still had a girlfriend by the end of the game. A candid photo of the both of them at some music festival, arms around each other and heads resting on shoulders. A collage section, filled with each cringe worthy matching Halloween costumes they'd worn. A picture of Daveed in a hospital bed, cast around his arm and Y/N sat at his side, their hairs still tousled from the kiss Rafa had walked in on before capturing the moment in a photo. At the time, they'd told him to delete it but the man was adamant they'd thank him one day when they were getting married and they realized that, without his meddling, the two of them would have never ended up on that date, in that hospital room.

With one of those things nearly down, Rafa was just counting down the hours till they came to the epiphany of his involvement in their love blossoming.

As he made his way out of the living room, the sound of a squeaky toy invaded his senses. Confused, Rafa looked down to see he'd stood on one of the dog's toys. All movement froze. He waited a couple heartbeats, to see if the pup had awakened. When no fur-ball came running his way, he assumed it was safe to move again.

The kitchen was up next. Rafa held back a laugh at the matching Mr & Mrs aprons which were hung up, mentally storing the reminder to mock them about it in his speech later on. A cupboard was slowly pulled open, a large bowl- in which countless of his favorite goodies were made by top baker Y/N- was lowered out of it and the tap was switched on, water trickling out of it and directly into the dish he was holding up.

Rafa now had to move more carefully than ever, his eyes flicking back and forth between the floor in front of him and the sloshing water in the bowl. But he had made his way safely up the stairs, down the hall and, now, he was finally rounding the corner to their shared bedroom. He could see the door had been left half open and, like the most tense scene in a thriller, Rafa took one step, two steps, three steps before he stumbled upon the exact image he'd been awaiting.

There they lay in bed, all shamelessly tangled up in silk sheets and limbs. His head on her pillow, her face buried in his neck. Casual sleepwear adorned them both- much to Rafa's own relief - whilst their outfits from the night before were strewn across the whole room. Each of their chests rose and fell in sync with one another, their breathing more peaceful than that of a monk. They so perfectly detailed what it meant to wholeheartedly be in love with someone, with no real effort whatsoever. It was such a shame Rafa was about to ruin their whole picture perfect sleep.

Eyeing the dog bed, Rafa affirmed that the pup was peacefully off in dreamland, with no sign of waking up and ruining his little surprise. He tiptoed from there onward, making his way around the king sized bed, stepping over abandoned cushions and swerving between articles of clothing. Panic coursed through him as Daveed let out a groan, rolling over where he lay. When the man's eyes remained shut, Rafa continued his careful journey to his best friend's bedside. After snapping a few pictures of the sleeping, unsuspecting fools, he lifted the bowl of water, carefully balancing it over them with his hands.

The first few drops fell onto the pillow, but the rest? They completely soaked Daveed and Y/N (mostly Daveed, he was Rafa's main target after all) and sent them both flying out of bed, eyes still half shut and wet hair dripping water all over the place. The first thing they noticed was Rafa, bent over at the waist, hand clutching his sides as laughter shook through his rib-cage.

“What the fuck, dude?” Y/N was the first one to speak, as she picked up and threw one of the cushions at Rafa, who smoothly ducked from her aim.

“What time is it?” Daveed had sat back on the bed at this point, shoulders hunched as he tried to find his phone.

“It's eight am.” Rafa passed him his phone. “And don't you what the fuck? me." He put on a high pitched voice as he addressed Y/N, dodging another one of her cushion attacks.

“I do not sound like that.”

“You do in my head.” Another cushion, this time it actually whacked him on the thigh. “I told you guys you wouldn't sleep apart and you two agreed to the bet, the forfeit being I get to dump a bowl of water over you both.”

“Hey, this isn't my fault.” Daveed stood up again, reaching for a pair of sweatpants off the floor. The bundle of fur had woken up by then, barking at Y/N's feet until she reached down to pick him up. “I was here alone last night, ready to sleep alone when she showed up at the door. She forced me to lose.”

“Oh, please!” Rafa was glad to see Y/N redirect her flying cushions at Daveed. “You practically dragged me into bed last night. I didn't force anything on you.”

“It wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me to turn away a tired woman at my door.”

“And they say chivalry is dead.”

“I brought it back just for you, babe.”

The buzzing of his phone in his pocket reminded Rafa of the fact that this was no ordinary day, where the two idiots in front of him had the entire morning to have meaningless arguments. Today, they were all on a strict schedule and Rafa was half responsible for making sure it all went well.

“As fun as this is,” He paused, redirecting his complete attention to Y/N. “you have a car waiting for you outside, to take you back to your parents home to get ready. So, with all due respect, fuck off and let me get D ready for you.”

“Fine, whatever, I'm going.” He could tell she wasn't really as bothered as she tried to seem, especially from the way her shoulders were shaking in silent laughter. “Be warned, Rafa, if you try take credit for our relationship in your speech, I will not hesitate to deck you in front of my whole family. Capiche?”

“You know, it's not too late to change your mind, Y/N. There's still a chance to rekindle our old flame and reenact that kiss we shared years ago.”

“Hey, watch your mouth!” Daveed made his way over to Y/N's side and wrapped an arm over her shoulder. “That's my wife you're speaking to.”

“Not yet, Diggs.” Rafa grabbed at the other man's arm, stripping him away from Y/N as the two tried to share a kiss. “Save that for the altar, you two.”

The couple collectively let out a frustrated sigh as Rafa guided her out of the house, both aware of the fact that the next time they locked eyes, they'd be swearing eternal fidelity and love to one another and, as much as neither would admit it out loud, they owed it all to Rafa and his gossiping ways.

#daveed x reader #daveed diggs #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs fluff #daveed diggs oneshot #daveed diggs fanfiction #daveed diggs imagine #daveed diggs scenario #daveed diggs drabble #daveed diggs hamilton #daveed diggs clipping.#valwrite #daveed diggs x y/n

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jadeywrites · 4 years

Text

Another random piece of my writing?? Because apparently working on my WIP = trying everything but actually writing said WIP.

Word count: 1,058

***

“There is no power without magic.”

This had been preached to me over and over again throughout the sixteen long years of my life. As if the words would suddenly breathe the sparkle into me just by their repetition--over and over again, by pounding fear into my brain that if I did not learn soon, my life would be useless.

I was filled with fear, but still no magic.

None.

“Your public reveal is in one month. What is wrong with you?” My mother, powerful, accomplished queen, sat across from me at the dining table. Our meals lay in front of us, having long gone cold. “We have tried everything, but maybe it is you who is not trying hard enough. Do you understand what it means if you do not show? A woman is nothing without magic--nothing. After everything I've gone through keeping us on top, you just have no magic!”

“I know that, mother,” I snap, anger rising to keep the tears at bay. “This line is new and precariously built. You worked so hard to take the throne from father. So hard to show that we are smart, worthy, strong. You've told me, again and again and again. I am sorry for all the disappointment I have caused, but I cannot help who I am.”

I had never spoken out like this before. Always instead quiet, trying to appease but not able to. It was too late now. “Do you think I didn't want to uphold the legacy? I want to feel the magic so bad, mother. You have no idea.”

I fail, for the tears come now. She looks appalled. We never cry. Women never cry. “I would do anything to continue what you have started.”

There is a long silence. Then she smiles grimly. “Good. Wipe your tears, it's all settled. I have found a girl to take your place.”

“You… what?” I stop, one hand raised in mid-air in front of my eye.

“Marissa has beautiful magic. She will perform the reveal, as you, and you will teach her your habits and ways. By marriage age, she will become you.”

“And… and what about me?”

“You will have a pleasant life, away from this all. I still love you, but you are simply not to be. You understand that, don't you?”

“What makes you--what makes you think I'll just teach her to take over my life? I've been preparing for this my entire life. I am a leader.”

“No.” Her voice is cold and cutting. “You are not.”

She claps her hands three times, and the sound echoes off the stone walls. The door at the end of the room opens, and she enters.

They've already outfitted her. She wears the most stunning cream dress, embroidered with threads of a million colors. It's a reveal dress. I know it.

On her head is a crown.

How long have they been planning this? While every day, mother pushed and scolded me?

“I expect your full cooperation,” my mother says from beside me. Then she rises gracefully and extends her hand to the girl. She does look like me, all done up like that. She has the hair, the general features, and makeup does a lot to conceal anything that might have been different. So few people outside the palace have seen me, no one will ever know the difference.

“Let me see,” mother coos to the girl. “Princess, you look stunning.”

I don't know what it is that does it, the word “princess” or the tendrils of magic that twist through her fingers so easily. But something in me snaps. Really snaps. I cry out in pain, clutching my chest as a searing sensation travels from there to every corner of my being.

It feels as if I am being shredded apart.

I scream, but then the pain is gone.

“Venger,” I hear my mother gasp. I look up, confused and terrified. Both of them are pale, shock clearly written across both their stupid, regal faces. Rage is rising in me, like nothing I've ever felt before. Warm, hot, burning. But I embrace the heat, so different from my mother's cold stares, cold words, the emptiness of the stone halls and the loneliness in my heart. I stand abruptly, and the heavy oak chair I was seated in crashes backwards onto the ground. I feel so strange, but there's no time to dwell on it as the rising heat consumes me.

Mother thinks I cannot rule. They want to replace me. Only magic matters, only power, in this silly castle. What happened to protecting everyone? Happiness and peace for everyone, not just for those gifted?

The tendrils around the girl’s fingers coalesce into a swirling ball. It flies towards me, and instinctively I open my mouth and catch it. Someone, somewhere, screams, but the taste fills my mouth and it is everything I have always longed for. It is the sweetest thing I have ever tasted, and it calms the rage inside me just a bit. I feel powerful, with the ball of magic melting in my mouth. When the girl throws another thread, thick and like a rope, I grasp hold of it with my lips and suck. A never-ending noodle, so delicious, only it does end,

when she collapses to the ground in a heap.

There is no more in her. I have it now. It is mine. Magic is mine.

My mother is running, almost out the door. With the power I feel, I reach out and she stops, frozen. It is easy to take the magic from her too.

I know from my studies that when you have awoken a Venger, there is no going back. No escape from their eternal hunger and never ending rage.

Ah, how unfortunate that a Venger found its way into the castle. But a miracle, isn't it, that the princess survived. Her poor, poor, mother perished, leaving her to shoulder the burden of the queendom young.

She sits, so small and delicate on that throne.

Her magic is beautiful, isn't it?

She has so much.

Are you happy that I have magic now, mother? Don't worry, you'll get a nice place somewhere--a quiet, calm cottage to live in. After all, I still love you very much.

You just weren't meant to be.

#amwriting #original writing #short story #fantasy #magic #revenge #dissapointment #queendom #original characters #my writing

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asrasotherbottom · 5 years

Note

First, I hope you get all the support and love you deserve dear. ^^ You are FANTASTIC! Second, I am clinically depressed with high anxiety. How would the six handle someone with those qualities? The fretting and low, days where you want to disappear, worrying that no one really cares it just an act?

Thank you!

I’m writing this based on my experiences and the experiences of those close to me, and i 100% understand those aren’t universal. and my interpretations of the characters are not Law or universal. I just wanna say blanketly, that I hope youre doing alright and that you also get the support and love you deserve and that you are safe. Content warning for suicidal ideation (that feeling where youd rather just not exist without like A Desire to act), anxiety, depression. Under a readmore so please take care of yourself and don’t click if you might be negatively effected by reading about this also its long as hell.

Suicide prevention hotline: 1-800-273-8255Trevor Project: 1-866-488-7386.

Asra:

- His heart literally aches with you

-Brings you tea in bed for days that you cant leave bed either because depression or because anxiety

-Will sit with you for hours just so you’re not alone, even if youre feeling awful.

-Cares 50000% less about the shop than he does about you, and if youre having a bad brain day he will just lock up and sit with you and hold your hand.

-Will encourage you to get out a little if you can, maybe for a nice walk in the woods to collect mushrooms with him because sometimes getting out and doing something helps.

-Is good at finding secluded secret ways to get around bc fuck people.

-He’s bffs with Muriel so hes pretty good with dealing with self loathing and anxiety already.

-Asra i think has a really good response to the “nobody cares and its just an act” because his magic mark will just glow when he puts his hand over your heart and its really hard to argue with “made a deal with the devil to resurrect you” if the argument is “nobody actually cares” and that was 100% his choice and hes not afraid to tell you that.

-Can, will, wants to, just ramble at you at length about how much he loves you and exactly why and will spend hours refuting your arguments which is tiring but maybe helps you feel a little better by the end.

-If things are just So Bad? If you want to disappear? he’ll nap with you just to be close to you and keep you safe.

-Will bring you to his oasis to walk around and help keep you safe if you really just want to disappear and he’ll try to cheer you up there which is admittedly mostly just pointing at tiny weird magic bugs and stars (but at least your body is safe).

-Deep deep down he’s still the person who brought his mom a button when she was sick so he’ll try anything to cheer you up. Faust too.

-He’ll even talk to Julian to see if he knows anything or anything to ease your pain a little.

-Will sit and just Listen to all your pain and be just Present for you.

-He loves you more than life itself and will definitely be receptive to anything you say about things that might help.

Julian-

-Extremely similar hat.

-But goddamnit if you made HIM feel better about being alive and worthy and deserving of love, he is absolutely going to return the favor.

-Anxiety? he knows all the back alleys to avoid people

-Doesn’t mind staying home from the rowdy raven to sit with you if youre too anxious to go.

-If you need a small dark quiet place to be alone and calm down? Hes got just the place (the hole at maz’s and he’ll even come in with you if you want because it makes you smile to see you both try to cram in there)

-Depression or anxiety making food hard? Some of maz’s soup will fix you right up.

-You find him in the middle of the night pouring over medical texts about depression and anxiety, looking for anything to help you at all.

-He’ll sit up with you on nights that you cant sleep because of anxiety or because youre just too sad.

-He’ll definitely lay in bed with you while you cry.

-He found someone who truly and entirely loves him and he will cling to you for dear life, and tell you all the things he loves about you whenever you need or want to hear them.

-He probably is gonna try a leech at least once.

-Brings you to the docks at night because its calm and peaceful and away from everything.

-After his upright end he definitely learned the importance of a support system and isnt afraid to enlist it to help keep you happy and safe.

Nadia-

- Shes extremely concerned that someone who lights up her entire life can be so sad.

-But shes not about to sit back and do Nothing.

-She can and will cancel any event or meeting if it means she can sit in bed with you and hold you while you cry or if her presence with you soothes some of your anxiety.

-She’ll bring you to her contemplation tower if you need a place to just get away from everything thats making you anxious.

-Will also bring you to the magical realms to help keep you safe and help cheer you up.

-Enlists the finest doctors that she can find if you’d like.

-She’ll take long baths with you where you two can just sit in the hot water and you can cry while she strokes your hair.

-If you feel like shes just faking her affections towards you then expect a bit of a surprised scoff followed by a 4 hour powerpoint presentation about every single thing she loves about you and how you make her feel

-You feel like youre not good enough? “I’m the fucking countess and i could have had literally anyone in vesuvia or beyond but i want you”

-Will pick you up and spin you if she sees you smile because shes just so happy to see you happy.

-Horseback riding as a way to help clear your head and escape anxiety is a given.

-Shes really attentive to making sure you stay fed, in fresh clothes, and bathed, even during bad depressive times so that it doesnt pile on to your bad feelings.

Muriel-

-If not same hat then EXTREMELY similar hat

-Lives in the forest so hes all about that avoiding social anxiety life.

-If you ever feel unsafe Inanna can and will lay entirely on top of you.

-Feeding chickens and petting inanna as anxiety relief for both of you.

-He’ll definitely hold you against his chest or with your head in his lap while you cry if you need it.

-Muriel hates seeing you sad, and doesnt always know exactly what to do or say but he’ll make you eggs all the time to make sure youre still eating when youre sad.

-Will remind you that youre like the only person hes ever truly let in to his heart and he doesnt want to lose you.

-Will also remind you that he gave you the myrrh voluntarily because he….wants you to remember him. hes never wanted to be remembered before. he never asked for it back.

- He really empathizes with wanting to disappear but he doesnt want that when hes with you and he wants to work hard to help you feel the same way with him.

-Long quiet walks in the forest together.

-He’ll take you stargazing and tell you all the things he loves about the beauty of the forest and the stars…and you.

-Big Hugs for Big Sads

-Enlists asra and nadia’s help if he feels he needs it, but he cares about you enough that he’d willingly seek out help for you.

Portia-

-Yeets pepi at you Like A Football.

-”Peep?? Peep Peep”

-Youre gonna feel better if it kills her.

-Gardening to help with sadness, touching dirt always helps. She’ll spend hours with you in the garden, helping you create like beauty with your hands.

-Chase the goddamn cockatoo with a broom to make you smile.

-Enlist’s Maz and Maz’s soup as well.

-Helps you find secret passageways to hide in when your anxiety is too much.

-Too sad to leave bed? Portia will carry you and your blanket.

-Is having none of that “oh what if you dont actually love me” business. She’s super used to Julian’s self loathing and depression that shes moved on to slightly tougher love.

-She loves you and shes going to keep telling you that and shes not going anywhere.

-She gets soft when you cry though and will cling to you for dear life and not move for hours.

-”How dare you talk about the person i love like that” - Portia, to you, when you talk about reasons you hate yourself.

-Cries with you though.

-Doesn’t like when she has to go to work when you’re in a bad mental space so shes asks nadia for you to have just a nice room in the palace reserved for you that you can lay in so she can come check on you during the day.

-Shes great for bad anxiety days because she has no problem doing social interactions for you. The thought of going to buy some herbs brings you to tears? No problem, she has no idea what herbs shes buying but shes Gonna Do It.

-The strength of Portias hugs is liable to just squeeze the depression right out of you along with also your internal organs probably.

Lucio-

-”How can you be depressed?? You’re dating ME, the COUNT! ……….Can I help?”

-He definitely tries to use his sex appeal to lighten your mood, it probably works sometimes (or at least gets a laugh out).

-Gets extremely startled when you cry but holds you tight against him.

-Cancels meetings, cancels plants, cancels the entirety of the Vesuvia if he has to in order to stay in bed with you when youre having a bad depression day.

-You can cry into M&M’s fur as long as you’re not wearing any makeup :P

-Gets worried and hides the pointy tips for his gauntlet.

-Absolutely having none of the “nobody really cares and its just an act” hes the COUNT! He could have anyone anytime he wanted! You were the first warmth and compassion he felt in years! The first person to really actually love him for /him/! he gets way more emotional than he plans to but he feels very strongly about this

- 4 hour powerpoint presentation on all the reasons hes into you

-Tries really hard to find material things that will help your mood. Gold? Silk? Furs? Sweets? Watching fistfights? Anything?

- He knows what its like to really disappear and hes not about to let that happen to you.

-He’ll never admit it to anyone but you but hes clinging to you with everything he has and he will work tirelessly to help support you.

-”Will petting my hair help you relax”

-Ropes Julian, Nadia,and Asra into things to help you, but they dont mind because its You theyre helping really.

-Anxiety? “Oh don’t worry, I’ll make /sure/ all eyes are on me” it maybe doesnt help exactly as intended but watching him be ridiculous eases the tension a little.

-Deep deep down he knows in his soul Deep Sadness and it makes him surprisingly good at supporting you.

i hope this was what you wanted!!!!

#Anonymous #nadia #julian #asra #muriel #portia #lucio #the arcana #depression #anxiety #mine

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anchanted-one · 5 years

Text

Eternal War 22 Asylum

Lana walked out of the shower to find that Arro had already fallen asleep. He looked so peaceful! She chuckled softly, taking it in for a second. She walked up to him and placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, getting a whiff of the mint-essence soap they had both used. It had only been six days since his rescue, so it still brought a thrill to see him alive, well, happy, and free. Given the circumstances of their relationship they were already geared away from taking each other for granted; but having lost each other for five whole years she suspected that it would be some time before she got used to the sight of him.

She chose a red plaid shirt and loose fitting swamp-green pants for a change, since it had been ages since she had truly felt secure enough to walk around without her armor. Her Lightsaber, of course, was never out of her reach anymore.

As she made her way to the bridge, Senya emerged from her own cabin down the hall and grinned at her. “Morning Lana. Sleep well? Or at all? I imagine last night was the first time you two had time to properly celebrate your reunion.”

Lana’s answering smile was arranged to convey just how happy she was, since words alone wouldn’t suffice. “I can’t even begin to describe how happy I am right now. Arro’s out of his prison, and he’s safely away from his captors despite the odds being so heavily against us. And when I was with him the past few days, just being in the same room as him, talking to him, laughing with him… it felt so damn good! Sex has never felt that great before either.”

Senya giggled, elbowing Lana in a comradely fashion. “You’ve earned it little girl! I’m so pleased for the both of you; I can’t believe I actually had a part to play in the most romantic kind of story there is!”

“And now I will keep my word and help you all out against the Eternal Throne. I believe I got the sweetest bargain in history.”

Senya threw her head back and laughed heartily at that, and Lana joined in. “You know, Lana, looking at you one would never guess what a romantic you are. Or how open. You look quite the opposite. Like you’re reserved and secretive. In most ways you are even a staunch pragmatist. But in dealing with allies and interpersonal relationships you are much more open. Especially given how every last one of the other Sith I have encountered are like. It always amazes me.”

Lana smiled sadly. “Well, there is a reason for that. But I can’t bring myself to talk about it in depth. In summary though: In the days leading up to the second outbreak of open hostilities, and during the war itself, I worked with Intelligence. There were so many secrets, lies, betrayals. I tried to leave it all behind, but even as late as Rishi, I was still keeping secrets. Using my allies. But that last time was too much for me. I swore I would always be honest and open with my allies at the very least. I never want to be that woman again.”

“I understand,” Senya patted her back sympathetically. “We all have things we don’t want to talk about.”

They had reached the Bridge. The door opened, revealing Koth and Knight Farya arguing light-heartedly about guns

“C’mon girl, you know the M-96 Mattock has a much higher fire rate!” Koth was laughing “And almost a third as light too. Chugging a Zaber around is tiring work!”

“But the Zaber’s Explosive Heads pack enough of a punch to make your target’s ears ring,” Farya argued. “And that’s when they block it with their shield! When it hits the body... I’ve seen a marksman headshot a Swamp Maworr that was charging at his buddy from three hundred meters away; that thing’s head exploded! Deadly, and so accurate too! The weight actually absorbs some of the recoil! And they’re so powerful they have to be custom-made for their bearers.”

“Oh, sure, sounds good for a pampered rich kid” Koth responded disparagingly. “But the M-96 is a true veteran’s choice! It’s larger magazine allows us to fire a lot more rounds before running out!”

“I’m glad to see you two getting along,” Lana remarked.

“Farya’s great!” Koth beamed. “Whoda thought that Knights were such purveyors of fine arms?”

“Vortena kinda knows his weapons too,” Farya grinned. “I am suitably impressed.”

“Did you sleep well?”

Lana gave them her warmest smile in response, making them both blush.

“So when do we reach Asylum? And how’s the ship holding up?”

“Three more hours in Hyperspace,” Koth answered. “Hyperdrive worked well. Once. Omnicannon worked. Once. We can start working on repairs once we’re docked. I reckon we’ll need to requisition a lot of technicians, droids, parts, and heavy machinery. With a standard workforce it should take... Maybe a month to get it fully operational, two tops?”

“That should be fine,” Lana answered. “TeeSeven is interfacing with the ship, acquainting himself with the Droid brains. He should have a good working synergy with the ship’s main computer soon enough.”

“Hell, that droid’s so good he’s done already, getting himself an oil-bath now.” Koth said incredulously. “I still can’t believe he found us in the middle of the Swamp and got onto the ship without any of us noticing!”

“On the subject of capable Droids, where is HK?”

“He’s offered to help the refugees learn some basic tasks on the ship; and to keep them safe from any lingering infestations.”

Lana nodded approvingly. “Once we get to Asylum we can take some time, stretch our legs. We can resume our last meeting. We can drop the disguise filters since we’re on Asylum now.”

“What about Arro?” Senya asked.

“He is still recovering, so we can’t expect him to fight Arcann, Vaylin, and Akahte all by himself. Yet. But he can meet the others, start familiarizing himself with the Leadership and the makeup of the Alliance.”

“In other words, if we get to fight on our terms, Arro can beat all three? I find that hard to credit!”

“You’ve yet to see him at his best,” Lana assured them. “His display yesterday was still a fraction of what he can do.”

“I don’t doubt it,” Senya said. “But Arcann and Vaylin are mighty enemies. And this Akahte… by all accounts she held her ground admirably against Vaylin herself. The three of them together…!”

“In the right circumstances there won’t be time for much use of the Force. In Saber combat, he is peerless. He could take down all three before they could react. But Akahte knows this, and she will never face him directly, if she can help it. Which is why we need the Alliance in the first place; so that we can create the most perfect opportunities we can, to face them in and not just point him in the general direction of the enemy and say ‘Get em, boy!’”

“Even Valkorion feared facing him head on,” Senya conceded. “On that subject, I believe Valkorion when he says that he does not plan to take over, and that he sincerely wants to aid Arro. For now.”

“Then why offer his power at all?” Lana asked. “Why not just sit back and watch?”

“Valkorion might see Arro as being worthy of His powers since he beat Him in fair combat.”

“The Immortal Emperor—” Fariya started uncomfortably.

“Don’t, Fariya. You don’t know Him like I did.”

“Try sharing a little less,” Koth laughed.

“That… wasn’t what I meant!” Senya said, face reddening. “What I mean is… He’s not some God. He was a man, and far more cruel than noble. To the rest of the Galaxy, he’s an outright monster.”

The junior Knight shivered. “That will take some getting used to, Lord Commander. For us all.”

“Take all the time you need,” Senya assured her. “It’s not my Husband we’re fighting against, it’s—well. It’s my children.”

“There it is: Asylum!” Koth pointed at the forward Viewport. It was a blue world with a big moon. From the flashes all over the planet, it appeared that the world was prone to lightning storms. “One of the depressingly few places in Wild Space which is still free of Arcann’s control!”

“That Shadowport isn’t on any map,” Lana said. “It’s a haven for refugees fleeing Arcann’s regime.”

“I can’t wait for you to meet my crew,” Koth grinned. “They’ll be so happy to see you! And one of them claims he’s already met you, so you can finally put an end to the question whether or not he was making it all up!”

“Does he say I owe him money?” Arro asked, much to Lana’s amusement.

“Do you owe money a lot of people?” Knight Khoarad asked, as he entered the bridge leading his comrades Wodar and Jettarn. All of the Knights had discarded their Zakuul armor, at least until they could modify them in some way to reflect their new allegiance.

“The Jedi aren’t supposed to own anything,” Lana gasped, struggling to breathe from her laughter. “They usually draw funds from a collective treasury when they need to pay. Trouble is, those funds are only good in Republic space, and to a lesser extent, Hutt space. Sometimes though, they’re worthless, and have to rely on goodwill, barter, or—most often—for non-Jedi comrades to pick up the tab. Which means that at any given point of time, they owe money to a half the galaxy!”

“I’ve repaid my debts,” Arro said defensively as the others roared with laughter. “Mostly.”

“And still tens of thousands in debt, no doubt!” Lana chortled. “Oh, don’t worry about it, my Love! I’m sure most of them have forgotten by now!”

Arro gave a pained chuckle. He should never have asked.

The ship shuddered as it entered the upper atmosphere of Asylum. The familiar bzzt of the atmospheric shields protecting the ship that Arro normally took for granted were a great relief to hear; given that this had been a derelict ship a week ago, he was afraid of critical systems malfunctioning when used even though he had triple checked each of these. All the more important since they were attempting to enter during a lightning storm; the flashes left deep dark after-images in his eyes and the thunder made his teeth click.

The Landing systems, however, were far from perfect and required a fine handling which Koth didn’t seem to have. The Gravestone all but crashed into the dock.

“That’s it, Koth, as soon as we get a better pilot you’re relegated to cheerleading duty!” Senya admonished.

“My landing in the swamp was better than this,” Arro complained.

“You’re welcome!” Koth glowered. “And welcome to Asylum Kiwiboy!”

“Don’t I get a welcome too?” Farya pouted.

“Welcome to Asylum Farya.” Koth replied, hastily adding “And all you others too!” before each person called him out for forgetting them.

As they emerged from the ship’s main boarding ramp, a group of rough-looking thugs walked up menacingly to intercept them. Probably not happy with Koth’s landing, Arro thought. “We don’t want any trouble people.”

“That’s a shame, cuz trouble just walked right up to yeh!” The apparent leader, a particularly tall and muscular human male said with a wide grin. Cracking his knuckles, he added “Nice ship you got there. We’ll be coming on board.”

“Please don’t make us fight,” Arro groaned. “It feels like that’s all I’m ever doing! Just for once, can I be welcomed like a friend? Or at least without knuckles and guns, or something?”

“Heh heh heh! Wish granted!” the tall man boomed, slapping him hard on the shoulders. “Welcome to our little haven, half-pint!”

Half-pint? Arro thought indignantly even as he was confused by the sudden shift in demeanor. The man turned his wide grin to Arro’s side and bounded forward, roaring “Captain!”

“Outlander,” Koth said as he returned the man’s bear hug. “Meet my crew, the best Engine Burners in WIld Space?”

“Is that your official name?” Arro asked with interest and Senya said “‘Captain’? Did you promote yourself after deserting?”

“‘Engine Burners!’,” a woman with shoulder-length, electric blue hair barked. “We could work with that!” “This is Len,” Koth said, introducing the giant. “My Second-in-Command. Blue here is Tora, the best engineer you’ll ever meet!” “Wrong!” She declared. “The best Engineer… EVER BORN!” She struck a pose for effect before dropping her arms to her side again. “This is one fugly ship, bossman I can have it scrapped in just a few moments, I don’t think we’ll find anything interesting in that piece of junk.”

“Your best Engineer,” Arro said cheerfully. “Tora, like Koth, you will be kept as far away from important tasks on the Gravestone as we can possibly keep you!”

Tora’s face froze midway into the expression of outrage she was about to assume when she heard Arro’s words. “The Gravestone? This piece of crap?” The others were also stunned into silence. As one, they looked to Koth, who nodded impressively. Like a proud salesman showcasing his prize ware, he indicated the ship behind them. “She may not look like much, but that’s coz we pulled her out of her grave in the Eternal Swamp and only just put some life into her! But even this was enough to take out hundreds of Eternal Warships! Wait until we have her fully operational!”

The silence stretched for almost a minute before the Engine Burners began cheering wildly. They began to talk all at once when they were done applauding. “How did you find it?”, “I wanna take er for a spin NOW!”, “Hundreds of ships?”, “I heard that was from a reactor blowing!”, “The Gravestone!”, “The GRAVESTONE!”, “We’re gonna win this, you hear? We’re gonna win this!”

Arro disengaged from the throng along with Senya and Lana, leaving Koth to talk with his exultant gang. As he did, he recognized a man with an aim-aiding Cybernetic. A soldier—Republic, but who was stationed on Marr’s ship during their fateful expedition.

“Well it’s good to see you alive, soldier!” Arro called. “Corporal... “

“Name’s Rallo!” The Soldier replied, fighting to get to Arro. “You saved my skin that day! Mine, and a bunch of others! I never thought I’d get to say thank you in person!” He grinned as he shook the Jedi’s hand. “Thank you so much, man! I’ve treasured each second of my life that you saved from the past few years more than I did my entire life before! Found my wife, joined a new family—” he indicated the Engine Burners. “And learned to take a moment to be grateful for every day I managed to live through!”

“Well done, Ralo!” Arro laughed. Grinning, Rallo saluted before returning to his new crew.

“There are some more people you should meet now that we’re here,” Senya told Arro. “We can start with the Scions. They were the more mystical of the Orders protecting Zakuul during Valkorion’s reign, but they didn’t fall in line with Arcann, so he had them massacred. The Survivors have an enclave here. They have been greatly looking forward to meeting you.”

#star wars #Star Wars The Old Republic #swtor #Anchanted-one #Swtorhub #Eternal War #OC: Arro #Lana Beniko #Koth Vortena #senya tirall

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cherryyharryy · 5 years

Text

Chapter 5: Clavicular Notch

This dream isn't feeling sweet

A shattered gasp shot through her lips as her head flew off the pillow. Harry’s shirt was glued to her drenched body and her pillow held more than her imprint. Adeline clenched the comforter through the exhausted and weakening paralysis coursing in her bones, focusing on what little energy and strength she could conjure up to throw the heavy weight off her body.

She counted back from ten before finally opening her eyes, willing her lungs to find a calmer rhythm. It took her brain a few moments to register that she was awake, her legs now dangling off the edge of the bed, allowing her feet to get used to the shock of cold from the hardwood.

After a few minutes of stirring in silence she shuffled out of her room in need of a glass of water, eyes nearly closed and her tongue struggling to swallow in dryness.

The apartment was dark, and she didn’t have the stamina to fiddle around for the light switch when she stumbled into the kitchen. The sink seemed miles away as she drug her feet across the tile, yanking a mug off the rack on the counter and filling it to the top with cold water.

She adjusted her shirt so it covered her thighs before sliding onto the barstool at the island, sparing her already tormented body from the bite of the cold leather. She only had three big gulps past her lips when her body flinched at a sudden burst of light.

“What are you doing up?”

An ankle-length-nightgown-clad Nicole strolled towards the stove where she started a pot of tea. She flipped the box of small packets open and picked out a few before deciding on one, which only sent memories of Harry tumbling through Adeline’s head.

Harry and his middle of the night tea that served to further his consciousness rather than its intended purpose of soothing his wired body and rambunctious mind, which led to flirty texts buzzing through her phone and a whispered phone call until one of them fell asleep.

But Nicole was no Harry and now they had a bit of a different routine.

Despite having been asleep for hours, every hair on Nicole’s head was in place and her nightgown was wrinkle-free. There were no makeup smudges under her eyes nor any evidence of a panic attack wreaking havoc on her as she slept. Her kettle steamed right away, drawing her questioning eyes from where they’d been resting on her younger cousin.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“These walls are thin you know,” Nicole eyed her knowingly, “I can hear you gasping and mumbling to yourself.”

“I’m just a little stressed.”

“Are you having nightmares? Are you—why are you using a mug for water?”

Adeline looked down at her drink and sighed. “No nightmares, just stress. I think I let it build up and then at night it all hits, and then I just...lose it. I don’t know.”

Nicole took a seat beside her cousin, her tea in perfectly manicured hands. “What are you so stressed about?”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know? How could you not know?”

Adeline shrugged. “Life I guess. That’s what I worry about.”

“What could you possibly be stressed about?” Nicole asked accusingly, waving her spoon in the air. “You’re 18, living in a rent-free apartment, away from your parents. You’re at a great school, no job, no major responsibilities. Your skin is blemish free...what’s the problem?”

Nicole’s criticism only furthered Adeline’s need to shut down. The clinking of her spoon stirring her tea grew louder, mixing in with the whirlpool of reasons she should be happy flinging around her mind.

“I know, I know. I’m very blessed. I don’t know what it is, just got a case of the blues.”

Nicole’s eyes narrowed in on her. “Alright then, whatever you say.” She brought her cup to the sink, mumbling about all the chores she had to do the next day before cleaning up her mess and bidding Adeline a weak goodnight.

Adeline downed the rest of her water and slid off the stool, holding back a round of tears as she she rounded the island, leaving her mug on the counter for Nicole to fuss about in the morning.

***

Half an hour later and Adeline was still tossing in bed, so she resorted to the only thing that could quiet her mind.

“Hello, darling.”

“Harry…”

“Bad night, love? You alright?”

“Just tell me about your day.”

And so their routine began; her calling in the middle of the night to rely on Harry’s voice for comfort. The time they spent together took a major hit when fall semester began. His college acceptance letter to Chadron had been bittersweet, knowing what it meant for their relationship.

“I had quite a productive day. Woke around noon to go stand in line at this new record store that was opening. I was eighth in line, Addy.”

“So? What does that mean?”

“That, my dear, means that you are talking to the proud owner of two free vinyls.”

Adeline settled back into her pillows, her body finally able to relax at the thought of the smug grin that was surely adorning his face, lying in his small bed, shirtless with the covers kicked down to his feet because he always got too hot, fan on high with that morning’s coffee still sat on the nightstand.

“Congratulations, glad to hear you skipped class yet again for a worthy cause.”

“You’ll eat those words when you’re listenin’ to this delicacy the next time we see each other.”

“Neither of us even owns a record player.”

“M’working on it, babe, don’t worry about it.”

“Anyway,” Adeline hummed, “what are your plans for tomorrow?”

“Guess I’ll go to class considering I haven’t gone all week.”

“All week! Harry you can’t do that! This isn’t high school. They aren’t going to cater to you. If you miss assignments, that’s it, no more turning things in whenever you want.”

“Thank you, mum.”

“M’serious, Harry. We can’t slide by anymore. Last week this girl showed up ten minutes late to class and my professor told her to leave. He said if she was going to be late, then she shouldn’t even bother showing up. We have to be more responsible now.”

“I know, but s’just not any fun. Guess that's what happens as yeh get older, the fun dies a little each day."

"I think that's a little dramatic. We can still have fun, we just have to put school first."

"For someone so smart that was a load of shit, Addy. If I were to die next week, my life flashing before m'eyes, what do you think I'd wanna see?"

"I know," she let out a sigh, "I get that, I do, I just don't wanna mess this up. This is the rest of our lives we're talking about."

"True, but you can't have all work and no play either," he reasoned. "See, this is why we should've gone to the same school. We balance each other out. You could yell at me to do my homework, and I could drag your bloodshot eyes away from your laptop to some stupid party."

Spending her college years with Harry would be a dream. She missed him more and more as the days went by. The picture he painted made her skin tingle and her brain dance, wanting nothing more than to live out the innocent fantasy.

"And then what?"

"We'd be there for an hour before leavin' out of boredom, tired of watching people drink themselves into a coma and mixing drugs in the bathroom. Then we'd go get ice cream, or go skinny dipping."

"How are those my only choices?" She laughed.

"Sorry, I meant, go get ice cream, and go skinny dipping. Forgive me love, m'quite knackered."

"You're ridiculous. What about in the winter when it's cold?"

“In the winter we would...go back to my apartment, cause you're roommate is really weird. Like, really weird. And pile up every blanket we own onto the bed and just hug 'till we fall asleep."

"You mean cuddle."

"You know I don't like that word, Adeline."

Laughter erupted from her mouth at his sudden serious tone. It had been late at night, not long after they first got together, that he informed her of just how much he hated the word. It was on a list that included overdone brownies, people who let newspapers pile up at the end of their driveway, and seeing babies in frigid grocery stores without socks on their feet.

"I couldn't help myself. I—ugh, Nicole is shouting at me to be quiet. I should probably go." her eyes flickered to her clock. "It's getting late anyway, almost three."

"Yeah, I have an early class tomorrow, he sighed.

"Thought your Thursday class didn't start 'till eleven?"

"It does, that's early."

"Whatever, Harry."

"Hey,” he cooed, “I know you've been really stressed out lately, yeh need to step back sometimes to relax."

"I know, I've just been overthinking about my life at the moment."

"You're living the dream, babe."

"I know, s'just not what I was expecting.

"And what was that?" He asked.

"I—I don't know. Just doesn’t feel the way I think I should feel. I don't even know if that makes any sense."

"It does, I understand."

"You do?"

"Yeah. I miss you too, angel. More than you know."

***

And then her professor, a dignified man with three degrees and a never ending collection of sweater vests, who erased everything he wrote on the board about two seconds after he wrote it, who's advice for her when she came to him for tutoring was to 'look at her notes', was anything but helpful.

The classroom was on the exact opposite side of campus from her class right before, and you'd think fifteen minutes would be more than enough time to get there, but a few weeks in and she can only manage to arrive after the door had been locked and she’s left to interrupting the lecture with her knocking.

On top of that, the room was freezing. The guy that usually sat next to her asked for a pencil every. single. day. And last week she sat in gum.

So needless to say, she dreaded Tuesdays and Thursdays.

Despite the weekly impending doom, today she had high hopes. They were getting their first test back, and she was in need of some good fortune. Nicole had been a grouch that morning, complaining about how she interrupts her morning routine, which led to an argument which led to her storming out without even having the chance to brush her teeth.

So an 'A' on a test, which she knew she was getting—she had studied for hours—was just what she needed to turn her day around.

***

Dr. Wallace loved to torture apparently, making them wait the entire hour and fifteen minutes of which she couldn't harness any concentration, until he passed back their exams. Adeline’s heart was a pounding frenzy and her bones were tingling.

When the seventy-five question test was finally laid down before her, her brain froze in mindless thought and the anxiety filling her up moments ago switched gears. She looked up to her professor, who was already five rows past her’s, and back down at what must be a mistake.

Had to be a mistake.

Please, God, let it be a mistake.

***

"Well maybe next time you'll try a little harder. Set some time aside and study, you can't have your boyfriend the focus of your life anymore, school needs to be your priority, Adeline."

She just sat there, dumbfounded with her mouth gaping around silent protests. Her dad flipped through the pages of her test, shaking his head every so often. At one point he pointed out one of her wrong answers, with the audacity to ask her why she got it incorrect. And he did not care for her response of 'I didn't know the answer'. Before she even had a chance to put a sentence together, he continued on with his rant.

"College is different, honey. Your professors aren't goin' to babysit you anymore."

"I know dad, I know." her head dropped into her hands. She huffed out a shaky breath and met his gaze once again. "I guess next time I'll start preparing three weeks ahead of a test."

"Now that's what I'm talking about." He slid from his seat at the table, nodding with each word as he picked up both of their plates. "More cake?"

She shook her head. "M'just gonna head back."

"What? I thought you were spending the weekend? That's a long drive."

"Yep. So the sooner I leave, the faster I get back." She slung her bag over her shoulder and rounded the island to kiss her dad's cheek. "I'll see you guys at Thanksgiving."

***

Strike two. The understanding of trying your hardest was not a part of the genetic makeup on her dad's side of the family.

"Adeline, I don't know what you want me to say? This is a terrible grade. You got what you deserve. You get out what you put into things. Try harder next time."

With that boost of encouragement Nicole tossed her now crumpled test on the counter and went back to scrubbing the bare fridge, mumbling about how Adeline arranged all of its contents wrong and how she has to do everything.

"You're not listening. I did try. Really hard—"

"If you tried hard you would have the grade to show for it."

She snatched her test and spun on her heel. "Whatever, Nicole. M'goin' to bed."

***

Surely this was a joke. Bombing this test was bad enough, but everyone’s negative input was just another muddy stomp across her heart.

“You can’t be mad, Addy, not at me or anyone else.” Gina, Adeline’s friend from high school whom she sat with in her Sociology class, attempted to smooth out her test on the edge of her desk. “You’ll do better on the next one.”

“But Gina, you can understand why I’m frustrated. I mean, look at the second question—it’s ridiculous! How can he expect anyone to get that right? And—”

“Blaming the professor will get you nowhere.”

She sighed and took her somewhat smoother test from her hands and stuffed it into her book bag, trying not to let any more tears slip all because of one stupid exam.

“You’re my friend, aren’t you supposed to complain alongside me, y’know, and tell me as long as I try my best it’s good enough?”

Gina brought her coffee down from her mouth and narrowed her eyes. “M’not your mom at your dance recital. You’re in college now. The bar for doing your best has raised, so you’d better catch up.”

***

"It's one test, love. You'll do better on the next one."

"You don't understand, Harry." She kicked her door shut and flopped down on her bed, keeping her phone pressed to her ear. "I spent hours over the course of days studying. Took pages of notes, did the practice questions, I even went to a study group with some people from my class! All for nothing but a lousy fuckin' 42."

"M'sorry Addy, know how you feel," he sighed. "But I also know how smart you are, how yeh never give up. You'll come out of this class with an A, I know it. Remember that biology teacher you had? She was a piece of work and you made it outta her class alive. I'm rooting for you, darling."

She relaxed into the pillow, letting herself believe his encouragements. It wouldn't last, she’ll worry and panic the rest of the semester, but for now she’ll pretend he's right.

"Thank you, Harry."

"F'course. S'what I'm here for. So other than everyone you know not taking your side—”

“Don’t mock me!”

“S’your own words,love.”

“I was really upset!”

“I know, I know. But you’re not now?”

“Until my next test.”

He sighed on the other end, and now more than ever did she wish she could see him, feel him. His voice alone was losing its convincibility that Harry was actually physically on the other side of the call.

“Take a deep breath, baby. Your whole college career isn’t dependent on this one class. Everyone has a test or two that they’re going to bomb. All you can do is learn from it. Maybe find someone who’s already taken this professor, see how they survived.”

“Yeah, there’s this guy in my history class who took it last semester. Guess I could pick his brain.”

“There you go. You’re going to be fine. And if all else fails, I’ll support you for the rest of your life.”

She rolled her eyes, fighting back a smile. “Shut up.”

“So...any luck with picking a major?”

“I was hoping you wouldn’t ask,” she sighed.

“How many times do I have to tell you—”

“I know, I know. Literature. But—”

“It’s your calling. Your mom said you’re an incredible writer.”

Adeline rolled her eyes. “She’s my mom, she has to say that.”

“I’d say it too if I was allowed to see any of your work.”

Adeline bit the inside of her cheek, thankful that Harry couldn’t see her at the moment. She’d done an excellent job of keeping her writing to herself, only choosing to share a poem or short story here or there with her family, but the thought of Harry reading anything she’s put down on paper filled her with more fear than she’d like to handle.

“I’ll think about it,” she mumbled softly. “My major I mean. I’ll think about literature.”

“Good. And—ah my neighbor’s here. I blew him off last week, can’t do it again.”

“Have fun. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“I won’t if you’ll stop stressin’ over this class for now.”

“I’ll try.”

“Good,” Harry sighed. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Sweet dreams, love.”

#ribsfic #ribsc5 #harry styles #writing #harry styles writing #harrystyles #harry styles fic #cherryyharryy

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sole-cuore-amore-e-droga · 5 years

Text

Tel Aviv 2019: Straight outta Latvia to Eurovision with a cinematic French rendez-vous

youtube

Supernova with their strict-on decision to only focus on all that’s radiofriendly this year went to hell for me. I mean, I like me some pop tunes, but not those that are purposefully marketed to be enjoyed by the massive sheeps of the Eurofandom who usually fall for those songs by Michael James Down, Will Taylor, even Ylva & Linda... because at the end of the day they’re all just shallow and pointless outside the ESC bubble.

Well the best they could do is to accept some different winds out of nowhere! And so they did when the audition stage hit place and we guys got to witness the 33 shortlisted tunes for this year, among which of them are loudly and proudly different - like “Alligator” and “Grow”, which I did not fathom but I was also raging for their not qualification for - more precisely “Alligator” which was way more outstanding of those two I mentioned. The guys that performed that song were fun, their performance choice was fun, they could have totally rocked on Supernova... but alas.

In fact not that many alternative songs made it to the final down-to-16 cut! There might have been a couple of those that sound nothing a radio would play unless it’s not playing pop on its purpose (Laime Pilnīga’s ”Awe” comes to mind right away), but in the end of the day, not many of those survived and we were graced with some... choices, like letting Samanta Tina waste herself on a cocky-ass tune with terrible chorus rhyme-scheme and unbearable charisma and putting through the most Eirodziesma-like mess-fest with the Beaver guy on top of it. Honey I like you in costume but... not in this emploi.

I don’t blame them though, as one of non-blatant-pop tunes conquered the Latvian hearts for this year. These next Latvian people in Laura Rizzotto’s succession are collectively named Carousel and their song is “That Night”.

It sets a romantic mood throughout, like we all are reliving this magical last date - it was in a restaurant, the candles were lit, the restaurant looked vintage with bordeaux satin tablecloth on the table, and the couple is having a smooth evening... until the love runs out to the probably cold and rainy streets and the other half of the couple starts longing for one's love. That's all I can imagine with this.

So yeah, I really like this! It's got lovely instrumentation that doesn't need all the over the top instruments - just guitar, simple drums, etc.; the noir flair is distinct on here and that's not bad on here; this is just a simple and soft song that you too could play in your own restaurants when all the lovely couples have romantic dinners and sip wine. And in some kind of a French movie, too (with the lead role being a curly redhead artiste with striped sweater, looking for love in Paris (because it’s so romantic in there honhonhon). I'm not sure if the revamp touched upon this one little problem I noticed but the problem kinda seems to be that the chorus repeats. A lot. And verses are way too short that they could be easily forgotten against the 4th and 5th time one would be hearing the "lo-o-o-o-ove, where? Are? You?" line, and then lulled into sleep at how peacefully relaxing it is. Which is indeed of a problem because repetition has quite a bit of a negative effect on people. Yes, it gets the song onto your brain more easily, but the repetition drives people insane too. Just like it was suspected for “Story of My Life” (Belarus 2017) on its original version to be unable to be ‘stood’ - after the 2nd chorus, the rest of the song just went like “hey hey hayayayaho” until the end. Naviband fixed the problem by throwing in another vocal onomatopoeia in a form of the song bridge and I loved them for it, even if there still were too many “hey hey hey”s at the end, haha.

Final conclusion? Yep, issa good entry, and if anything it’s helluva underrated. Say what you want about it being “boring”, to me it’s somewhat fresh and exciting, because the melodies are pleasant, the instrumentation is top notch and Sabīne’s vocals are relaxing. Delightful starry night music, oh yes, thanks a lot for it, Carousel, I’m taking it.

Obviously, after they won Supernova, there was a lowkey uprising from fans who were dead certain on wanting Edgars Kreilis or Markus Riva to win, eek. Honeys, honeys. I do like those two as well, BUT for a bit of a mess that Supernova 2019 was with some of their decisions to include, I think it’s for the better they finally let themselves go lighthearted over it all rather than blatant tryhard to sound radio for the masses just cuz the NF wanted. Just forgive Carousel for winning, okay? Okay. ^_^

Approval factor: Definite yes from me, because why wouldn’t I rate it a yes. Yay brotherland!

Follow-up factor: For me personally this is miles better than Laura Rizzotto's last year's melodrama. Overall I think it just flows nice and is a delightful addition to the Latvian collection.

Qualification factor: This I cannot think about all too often but I am not sure if they'd... stand a chance anymore? I'd use to think it did, but that was weeks before supposedly much stronger entries rushed in, squeezing Latvia into an uncomfortable position. But I really hope it's just charming enough to kind of get through. Sort of. A little bit. I'm positive about it happening, but not that much. And a lot of older audiences might love it enough to vote it, too.

NATIONAL FINAL BONUS

I admit that I got way too heated about hearing Supernova’s new approach to selecting entries, but in the end it turned out that I didn’t need to worry all that much in the first place - some of those alternative entries we got were very nice (or at least the entries out of the standart overbearing radio-pop norm), both in their actual auditions (this time they were on an actual stage in front of a jury instead of the listeners pick-pocketing the submissions themselves) AND among the actual picks. But what else is there to be note-worthy in this year’s edition of this show?

• Well, among of the auditionees there were those too-weird-ass bands/artists (some of them I mentioned), and you saw me mention the “Alligator” song to you beforehand, which is done by an ambitious project ATOM.LV (so did I mention “Grow" by Waterflower and her show is worth mentioning as well <3 Those flowers in her hair, the hair color, the makeup, her overall image (it’s like Jamie-Lee upgraded) and the dance moves are ADORABLE <3333 but the song is... hmm... :c). And I’ll repeat myself - those guys rocked! I may have not been a massive fan of this but I can at least commend them - they had a good song structure going on, a clear message (alligators from the stars *catchy trumpet fanfare part* trying to probably conquer the world, yeah!) and an outrageous tribal image with that facepaint on! Awh hell yeah! Who wouldn't want THAT through the live shows??? Ah, only the Latvian juries ofc. (And me because I never got the appeal of this but I sure felt sad for 'em kids hoping and wishing for them through :x)

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• Thank Goodness I had my faves through - all hail Double Faced Eels! They're the little legendary pop band who went all their way to compete in some Youtube contest and have had sung with Bebe Rexha as the prize for winning it almost 1,5 years ago :o Believe it or not but I have heard of them way before their Sulernova stint - I got introduced to them through a friend, known on Tumblr as Soupgeist. :3 And I don't regret stanning a name I know, as "Fire", their entry in this year's 'Nova, was a pop-rock banger with some electro in! Granted the vocaliat might've had some troubles singing live but he still pulled it off nicely in the finals, with that energy coming out on top! Yeah yeah, uguns. 🔥

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• Like I mentioned earlier, there were people rooting for other favourites this year so heavily, and that annoyed the hell out of me, because I thought that Eurofans have some sort of evolving tastes that accept more than just pretty pop boys/girls with not-so-special songs? Well, I mentioned that Eurofans’ targets were Edgars Kreilis and Markus Riva. The latter felt so attacked about him trying to achieve his representation dream over and over he even tweeted about it once... well I did like his song “You Make Me So Crazy”, but I found it a little too overrated with the fans. So I did Edgars, but his song was way catchier and had way more personality than being a club track, I tell ya. Why would his song be renamed from “Fire” (yes, he partially shared a song title with that Double Faced Eels’s song!) to “Cherry Absinthe”, anyway? It gives it a bit more of an exciting feeling, tbh. ^_^ So I ended up rooting for him a little bit more out of the two ‘pretty’ pop boys, if I had to accept one of those kind of winners that everyone wanted (like everyone wanted just either yesyes or The Middletonz for Hungary this year).

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• There were a lot of other nice chosen songs too that I would’ve loved to discuss, but I just can’t not mention the Riga’s Beaver as one of the more memorable moments here. I did write earlier in this that I was disappointed though. Not because of the beaver being out of costume and coming at us as a young-to-middle-aged stunning lad, but because the Beaver-entry, “Tautasdziesma”, was a “Supernova”-times cluster-mess. I think of this as a charity music medley-parody of some sorts, and that doesn’t bode with me well, and sometimes I like parodies, like the one Klemen Slakonja (aka the guy who portrayed Putin for a musical number once) did in his country’s NF in 2012 (that he hosted) was fairly nice (although a bit too much), but... ehhh... at least the men are fine and their costumes were dandy.

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• Let’s not forget that those auditions had this one glorious thing going on during the performances - we saw shots of the jurors judging all of the 33 shortlisted acts with... rather less-than-enthusiastic looks, and man oh man were they fabulously done with this shit <3333

if that’s not a big indicator of them being too dead inside to be judging anything that day, then idk what is...

Anyway, I am finished with this review also, and I’m happy about it! I don’t think I can move any of this at a more quicker pace (seriously, I have to do so many more even during rehearsals!!!), but I am still trying to do my best. Good luck to the Carousel quartet and may they not flop in May! To hell with the naysayers sweeties, you’ll do just fine x ✨

#eurovision 2019 #tel aviv 2019 reviews #latvia 2019 #carousel #that night #latvia

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fisherrend · 5 years

Text

A year of change

I’ve had a lot of realizations this past year. Key among them is the fact that it’s okay to be me.

I’m not melodramatic or suggesting that woe is me. I’ve in fact always been a pretty happy kid. I was one of the few ones blessed with being completely oblivious to what other people thought of me. I think that allowed me to have an incredible amount of fun when I was young; I never stopped playing, because why would I? I was having fun!

I was always sort of bullied because I was fat and a bit weird, but I honestly never thought much of it. I got angry and sad in the moment, but I forgot it just as quickly. If I was sour about being teased ten minutes ago, I couldn’t play and have fun right now. And why wouldn’t I want to have fun instead?

The first time I was approached with the idea of it not being okay to be me was when I was 10. It was easter and in Sweden we have a tradition to dress up as “easter ladies”, basically cutesy witches, and go door to door asking for candy in exchange for happy easter cards we made ourselves. My parents told me I was too old to do that. I wondered why, since I still thought it was fun. I wanted to draw cards, dress up and hop about the neighbourhood. But no. It wasn’t okay to think that would be fun, I was too old. I did it anyway, but that seed had been planted. I didn’t dress up for halloween or go as an easter lady next year, worried my parents might be disappointed if I did.

The second time I vividly remember someone suggesting to me that being me wasn’t okay, I was perhaps 12. It was at a family gathering, birthday celebration for a cousin or something. I am a very social being, but I run out of social batteries very quickly. My coping mechanism at the time was to find a pencil, paper, the first available space and sit down to draw. I completely tuned out the outside world which allowed me to charge my batteries. I remember my little sister piercing through the veil at that party. I was sitting on the floor, drawing, because the couch didn’t have a table I could use to put my paper on. “You’re not normal! You can’t just sit on the floor and draw at a party!” I remember feeling resentment towards her for teaching me to feel bad about being me. Today I realized that someone must’ve instilled that knowledge in her as well.

Things kept progressing like that. Lesson after lesson. You can’t dress like that, you should get prettier clothes. Don’t just draw all the time, what will people think of you? Don’t sing in public. Don’t talk all the time. Maybe you should lose some weight? Maybe you should put on some makeup? Shouldn’t you fix your hair? Don’t you want people to like you?

I went from a happy soul without a care in the world, who never needed anyone and did whatever she wanted when she wanted to because it made her happy, to an insecure shadow of a person who barely dared to look at other people out of fear that they might hate her for it. That was not natural progression. That was taught.

They doused my fire. It’s been a long time fanning the flames, but they’re picking back up again, bright as ever.

I’ve begun the process of turning down the part of my brain that cares what people think. Luckily, thanks to my lovely Aspergers, my natural setting is “who gives a fuck” so I just have to tune it back into that, but it’s been 15 years of brainwashing to make me feel inadequate. It’s going to take some time. That dial is rusty as fuck. But I’m getting there!

Today was a huge milestone for me. I went shopping for clothes. I have always hated shopping for clothes, but until today I didn’t really realize why. It’s because of the pressure and self-hatred associated with it. Whenever I went shopping for clothes, nothing I picked out was ever good enough. So many sideways glances, so many huffs and “nah”s. What I liked was never right. I was never right.

But today, I bought clothes that I wanted. That I thought were pretty, comfortable and just nice all around. And guess what? I didn’t hate it! I didn’t hate standing in the booth and trying on garment after garment, because there was no one there to tell me that it didn’t look right on me, that it wasn’t good, that I shouldn’t buy it. I bought clothes for me, and it was such a freeing experience! It didn’t matter that I don’t have the perfect body, that my hair is a bit wild and out of order. I had fun anyway, and I felt good!

So yes. This year has slowly brought about a lot of mental changes for me. It’s been trying at times, very much so, and at certain points I thought I’d break. But I didn’t. I’m still here and I’m feeling better than I have in a long time. I am also very lucky to have super supportive friends whom I can actually outright tell “sorry guys, I can’t come to the party/dinner/hangout, I am too tired/mentally fragile at the moment”. No resentment, no passive aggression, just acceptance and love and well wishing. I wasn’t blessed with a healthy body, but I was blessed with incredible friends and I wish for everyone to have great friends like that.

What’s my point with this entire wall of text?

Make the next year as good as you can for yourself. It’s good to care about yourself, to make yourself happy and put your own needs and wants first. It’s not selfish! It’s natural. Anyone who accuses you of being selfish for taking care of yourself is not worthy to be in your life, cut that toxic shit out.

If you are not at peace with who you are, my new years wish will be for you to get there. There’s no quick-fix, there’s no magic pill, it took me 15 years to finally realize that I don’t have to care. It’s not my job to make other people like me, and it’s definitely not my fault if they don’t. I’m going to keep being me. Everyone has their own path to walk, you gotta find your own, but it’s possible! Even without a therapist. I know some people won’t agree with me, but I’m sure there’s some of you out there who like me honestly just feel worse talking to a therapist. And that’s okay. You can get better without one! It just takes some time.

We have a limited time on this earth and I guess that 2018 was the year that I realized that I don’t have time to worry. Worrying only means you’re hurting twice. That, and the swedish saying “you only have as much fun as you make” have become my guiding stars.

I won’t regret anything in my life.

You might be thinking that this whole post came out of nowhere. It didn’t. One of my relatives lost his battle with cancer today. He was always a bright beacon of light, joy and hope in my family. I remember being overjoyed whenever he came to visit at out summerplace, how our dog Milla went crazy with glee and how he greeted her way too excitedly for a man his age. I remember being really happy that the two of them were so happy to see each other, and super excited that he went along with all my crazy ideas and adventures. I looked up to him a lot. I wanted to grow up as happy, childish and free of worry as he seemed to be.

Cheers, Kenneth. I’m sure Milla greeted you as excitably as ever on the other side. I’ll make the next year my best one yet, just you watch.

#mod post #grief #death #life moves on after all #i'm actually surprisingly fine #but it certainly puts things in perspective

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vide0-nasties · 6 years

Note

PROMPT: *whispers reverently* that cut scene from moon. eustacia washing julian's hair. I need it

2.5k of deleted hair washing scene, just 4 u cathleen! :***

post-book viii: strength, deleted scene from my fic ‘whatever a moon has always meant’ Julian/MC sfw

Julianwatched Eustacia wash her hair out, hunched over the sink, and he'dwatched her bottomlessly black eyes track to him. She had asked,“When was the last time someone else washed your hair for you?”

Hecouldn't remember.

Now,he sits in the chair she turned around for him at her rickety kitchentable, stripped to the waist. He's exhausted, and wired, with onelittle triumph under his belt in the form of a scarab-shaped key, andeven that is outweighed one-hundred-to-one with questions.

"Canyou comfortably tip your head back for me?" she asks from behindhim, and her rolling dark brogue floods his spine and empties histhoughts of everything except the facts that the hair prickling onhis arms and neck is freezing, and the sudden surge of blood underhis skin makes him feel like a furnace. That voice,deep-deep-deep—he could imagine a trillion things for her to say,and he'd not find a single one of them unattractive.

Thereis one win: he doesn't shiver when she sets the basins down—a mutedsound of copper against wood. He lolls his head back, over the backof the chair, and peers at her. "I could comfortably bend overbackwards for you. Would you like me to try?"

She'sscrubbed pink, cleaner, barer, and more gaunt than he's seen her.Without her makeup, she looks very familiar—all nose, all bone, allbruise-y bags sitting heavy under her eyes. She looks like him. Shelooks exhausted. With two fingers to the crown of his head, she rollshim back up some, but it makes him no less pleased that he caught herlooking at his throat, and that he caught her swallowing.

Oh,he's positively incandescent.

Shehasn't come back into view, so he looks at what he can. Namely, theceiling. It's an inverted and dried botanical garden, strung up onfishing lines. Mesh sacks of potpourri, dried wedding bouquets andclutches of roses, wildflower crowns of all sizes. Every petal adried and muted version of its quick self, brittle and faintlyfragrant.

He'salmost shocked that he'd never noticed, but he didn't—or wasn'tallowed to--spend much time up here. Any? Did he ever come upstairs?Did he ever come—that's enough, and, anyway, the ceiling ismuch taller in only that spot, where the roof peaks into a dormer.His head wouldn't brush against them the way it does in most of theseold houses.

"Huh,"he wonders, staring at all the arrangements. Part of him wants to seehow easily they could crumble under his touch, if they'd continue towither. Another, bastard part of him wants to ask if Asra gatheredthis dead garden for her—no-no, enough of that, the horse is dead.

Eustaciaand Asra are close—a jab at him would leave a bruise on her. She'smuch softer than she looks, and, yet, she isn't. The claws and fangsaren't for show, he's quickly learning, though he's really never hadno doubts.

Hejust wants to—he wants to ask her, just get it over with,get it out of his system—have you—did you ever—when was thefirst time you—when was the last time you—

Julianhas had all number of run-ins with unsavory characters: muggers,pick-pockets, people out looking for a specific and cruel type of'fun,' pirates, and warlords turned nobility, àla the Count. He's met soldiers of fortune, bandits, and murderers.

Hehas never met anyone like Eustacia Barbary. And he thinks he wouldfear her, were her feet not planted firmly in his corner, were herclaws and fangs not primed for use in his defense.

Evenbleeding out from the blood eel's bite, she had turned the tables onhim and boxed him up against the wall, shielding him from the guardswith her back. Constantly, she makes the ground shift under his feet,and it's exhilarating to try keeping up. Being defended, being deemedworthy of defending, is foreign territory.

Buta grape knows a grape. Eustacia is wonderfully and fearfully made,her claws are cursed unbreakable, her fangs are capped in gold, andshe lives under a canopy of love-soaked flowers. Julian isunforgivably wild about her.

Avery tiny and very loud part of him rises up, pushing the questionaway, wanting the long, pale hand of the topsy-turvy, static garden'skeeper to feed him the fragile petals, to see how many he could takebefore the perfume made him sick.

She begins tofingercomb his hair, humming thoughtfully under her breath as hernails scritch over his scalp. “Our hair is similar,” she says,twirling a nail through a formative curl at the nape of his neck.“When I've started growing out mine, that is. Come wintertime, Ihave enough to cover my ears. It's the picture of seaweed.”

“I'd like tosee that,” he tells her, looking at the stubble that darkens thesides and back of her skull, almost long enough to call actual hairnow, due for a shave. The hair on the top of her hair is still damp,but beginning to dry, letting the waves begin to come through.

She gives him aweary smile under wearier eyes, nodding her head. “I'd like you tosee it,” she sighs, her finger in his curl slowing to somethingthoughtful. They both know where they each stand—they both know hemight not see another winter.

“Eustacia,I...” He trails off, frowning and flattening his lips into ablanched line. What can he say? There is no comfort that isn't acradling fabrication, a lie. No comfort for her when it comes to him,anyway. He has her, and she'sgiven of herself freely. What does he have to offer in return? Sofar, whiplash volleys of thrill, endangerment, and unhappiness.

“Tellme if this is too hot or cold,” she says, saving him from hisrunaway mouth.

Thewater she pours on his hair from her cupped hands is a touch too hot,searing his scalp, but he melts into it. It's been days since he'shad a proper scrub, and he's always preferred his water somewhatscalding. He groans, just a little, and feels the muscles in hislower back release a fraction.

Oncehis hair is soaked through—water rolling over his neck andforehead, dripping over his ears, a few scattered droplets cooling onhis shoulders—she begins lathering up a shampoo bar between herhands. The smell is wonderful—lavender, rosemary, and aloe, pepperyand clean—and he goes slacker by degrees, legs stretching out, armsloose with his hands in his lap. His jaw unclenches, and his browgoes smooth as she works over his scalp, nails and fingers andhatchmark-scarred palms.

Ifhe had any decency, he would be embarrassed; he's actually gruntingand moaning—little noises, more like sighs with some intonation—butthe unevolved part of his brain is in revelry, and everything is calmand quiet.

“Doesit actually feel that good,” she begins, “or are you bullshittinglike the girls in the carnal shows?”

Oh-ho-ho?

Asmirk cracks over his mouth. “And what do youknow about carnal shows?” he returns in a purr, dripping teasingsarcasm that's blurred around the edges.

“Themore you pay, the worse they are,” she drones. He barks a laughthat resounds in the air around them, and it seems she can't help butbark in return. That's one of the things he enjoys about her, onethat he hopes is something she feels in return—that he finds herlaughter infectious.

Shebegins to rinse his hair, and all he wants to do is bury his faceagainst her neck with his arms wrapped around her waist, to laughagainst her, and feel her laugh ring through his body.

Asit is, she simply scrunches some excess water from his hair into thesoapy basin, and rubs some oil through the ends of his hair. The oilsmells of nothing, but he knows he will close his eyes when it fallsin his face, and he will imagine that he can smell her—apples,petrichor, orchard-after-storm.

Somethingbumps against his lower lip, and he remembers the bottle glass shewears on a chain around her neck. Without much thought—any thought,really, would've stopped him in his tracks—he takes it between histeeth and glances up at her.

Shehas stopped dead, staring down at him with something he might callconfusion, a hand splayed on her chest. She frowns, her thick, sharpbrows knotted together, but there is worry in her eyes. The glassingscar around the right one warps the skin, pulling it into littlelines. Concern, maybe. Or trepidation. Her concern and her worry havea more jagged feeling, a broken glass quality.

Helets the moment linger, he lets her figure herself out, because herface twists, and her hands clench, and her lips peel away from herteeth when she is coddled, so he has stopped coddling, tried to stop.

Heclicks his teeth against the bottle glass. He waits for her.

Whenthe hand over her heart loosens, comes away from the bare skin overher camisole, closing in a loose fist, she asks, “Julian, can Ikiss you right now?”

Shealways asks, he always tells her she doesn't have to ask, and healways say yes anyway. “You know you can just kiss me. You don'thave to ask permission, or go looking for my chaperone,” he teases,dropping the pendant and reaching for her hands, slowly drawing themcloser, laying them on his shoulders. There is no demand, noinstruction, only suggestion. She is free to do as she pleases, andalways has been.

Hervoice and eyes go a little flinty, but not at him, palms sliding tohis chest, “Haven't enough people taken from you without asking?”

And,there she goes, branding her name into him without meaning to, a markhe would love to wear, even when her intentions are forhim, and not herself.

Itmakes him think of the kiss that will last forever, the gift she gavehim after he'd tried to end things on the docks. A napkin stolen fromsomeone's pocket during dinner at the Raven, a hole bitten into herown cheek, the glimmer of red on her lips and teeth, and a stain onthe linen that would never wash out.

Akiss that will last forever, one that lives in the breastpocket ofhis jacket, an acknowledgment that he is not alone, not anymore.

“Wouldyou please kiss me, Eustacia?”

That'sall it takes. He forgets that her wants are simple—the ones sheshows him, anyway. That anything hewants is only a question away. That she gives easily and freely, butshe takes with care.

Herhands slide up the column of his throat, to the sides of his neck.Her grip is no feather-light touch. It's firm and grounding, and notclose enough to a choke that might get him going. Weight to remindhim she is there, her thumbs coming up to sit over his sideburns.

Shebends at the hips to close the distance between their mouths, and hesits up straighter to bring their bodies closer together.

And,it's just like the world's gone quiet, isn't it?

Theplace where his brain used to be is a big, fat question mark, beddeddown in cotton. The whole of Vesuvia blurs outside of the feeling ofEustacia's lips, her fanged canines sometimes catching his lip andstinging. His mark is gone, Count Lucio is gone, the murder is gone,and the gallows are gone.

Asra,Countess Nadia, Valdemar, the palace—all gone. Gone, gone, gone.

Thereis Julian—Ilya—some overgrown, gangly boy from Nevivon, who stillfeels the saltflats dust on his skin when he is faraway in his head,and Eustacia. Whatever she is—soldier, murderer, monster, whateverelse she is and isn't—she has bruises that ache for him, littlesoft spots she likes to prod. He doesn't know her, or her history,but she's let him see her vulnerable, and she's let him see into herthoughts, and she's let him see into her home.

Shetreasures beauty, and poetry, and she lives in a home with anupside-down garden. She makes up dirty limericks, and poses riddles,and snaps her teeth together when she's pleased.

Shecan't abide people being lonely and alone. She can't abide it inalmost anyone.

Shehas decided she will be there when he is ready to stop being lonelyand alone.

Hebreathes into the empty spaces she leaves, pressing forward, alwaysgreedy for more, always desperate to please. He arches his back, healmost stands, he wants to give of himself, return affection foraffection for affection, to let her know he can and will and wants togive, as well.

Hewants to be good, fucking hell,he wants to be good for her.

Butshe keeps him sitting, keeps him prone and unmoving, slowing thepace, pulling back when he gets to eager. It borders almost onchaste. There is a bigger feeling backing this maneuver, this is notthe lingering goodnight kiss at Mazelinka's, or the recklesswe-could-get-caught kiss in the repurposed tea house.

Whenshe pulls back, he tries to follow, and she laughs. Very quiet, verypleased, her lips shining and pink(er). For a fraction of a second,he fears, as always, she will wipe his kiss away, that she will callthis whole thing off—even when that had been the goal he thought hewanted to chase.

Withoutany spare words, she straightens up and begins running her handsthrough her short, thick crop of hair. Pass after pass, until Julianrealizes what she's doing.

Herhair dries into thick waves, waves like octopus tentacles, and itfalls over the side of her skull, over her eyes, looking for all theworld like the frayed black ribbons on old mourning gowns.

Holdingup her hand—pink now, too, from whatever magic that had been—ingesture at his own hair, she, again, asks, “Your turn, heartsweet?”

“Oh,yes, please,” he tries to laugh, but it might've come out a slur.

Carefully,she settles in his lap, and he loops his arms around her hips.Wherever he sees skin is a place he desperately wants to touch. Hewants to get to know every tattoo, freckle, dapple, and scar of hersvery personally, wants to know them by name and date and cause. Hesettles for proximity, her hands in his hair, her weight on his legs,her mouth against his.

Theremight not be time for it in the future, there might be the longest,short walk he's ever taken, deserved or not, but he thinks of—hopesfor a future where he can dothese things, and a thousand others.

Forthe first time in a very long time, he hopes for a future, and itglimmers gold when he closes his eyes.

#the arcana #the arcana fanfic #julian devorak #julian x mc #rags wrote a thing #you have accessed the special features submenu #would you like to return to main menu? press any button now #housesghastlymenhaunted

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intothemysticfic · 6 years

Text

Insecurities (GOT7)

AN: I realized too late that numbering the options for the 30 day challenge was misleading and I want to clarify that the numbers do not indicate the order reactions/scenarios will be posted. With that being said lets get started!

JB/Jaebum: At first when he notices you spending extra time standing in front of the mirror before getting dressed he thinks nothing of it. However, as it becomes a common occurrence he would pay closer attention not liking the way you scowl at your reflection while pinching at various parts of your body. He’s suspicious so he asks bluntly what you’re doing and doesn’t believe you for a second when you try to act like it isn’t a big deal. The next time he catches you in front of the mirror he joins you, wrapping his arms around you from behind. Meeting your gaze in the mirror he caresses every curve of your body, traces every blemish while patiently pointing out all the things he loves about you.

Jinyoung: The house is quite when he enters; it surprises him because you normally leave the T.V on or music playing no matter what you’re doing. He searches the house, the kitchen where you love to sit on the counter munching on food the nook in the living room widow where you curl up to read the bedroom thinking you might be taking a nap, but he doesn’t find you. Calling out he hears a commotion from behind the cracked bathroom door. He’s worried as he pushes the door open, more so when he notes the wet streaks down your face that you hastily wipe at. “Baby,” he approaches you slowly, “what’s wrong?” You swallow thickly trying to clear your throat of the sob lodged there. He persists, pulling you close to him, “tell me what happened?” It’s silly you think, letting what other people think get to you, worrying Jinyoung with your own insecurities. You unintentionally blurt, “You’re too handsome for me.” He lets out a startled laugh confused about why that would make you cry but he’s quick to catch on. “Hey,” he starts seriously, “that will never be true.” He’s quick to scold you for such thoughts, quicker to reassure you that you are beautiful and worthy.

Mark: Setting at your kitchen table surround by project work you felt overwhelmed. You had gotten into college on a lucrative scholarship. At this moment you couldn’t fathom how you had beaten out all the other students because you couldn’t do this. It had to have been a fluke, a mistake that you had gotten in. You were so overwhelmed that you didn’t hear Mark come in until he spoke, didn’t realize you were crying until he brushed away the tears. “What’s wrong?” You shook your head, “I shouldn’t have gotten in - I’m not smart enough.” He pulls a chair close when he sits down his legs are pressed against your chair. “That’s not true - you’re the smartest person I know.” When you choke back a sob he pulls you into his chest. “You can do this.” The two of you stay like that for a long time with him whispering praise into your ear until the tears stop and you start to think that maybe he could be right. At the very least you agree to try your best no matter what the end result.

Jackson: Sometimes it puts you on edge the way Jackson easily makes close friends, even though you know it shouldn’t. You trust Jackson but you know it could be easy to mistake his style of friendship with flirting. You know some people like to read his kindness for more. It shouldn’t get to you because you trust Jackson but you see the way some people look at him, hear the way they shamelessly come on to him. It gets to you. It makes you dream up possibilities, fills your head with doubts. You question if you’re enough. You ask yourself if he loves you enough. He turns the people away when you’re there to see, shuts them down politely when you’re around to hear but what about when you’re not with him. You pull away from him. At first he doesn’t pay it much attention but he becomes concerned the longer it drags out until he confronts you. He asks, “Do you not care about me anymore?” It breaks you heart because that is your fear. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” It confuses him and he racks his brain looking for the mistake he must have made. “There’s so many people that like you – that could make you happy. Are you sure you want me?” He curses himself for not realizing sooner that you felt this way and immediately he starts to reassure you. “You’re the only one I want.” He’ll pay more attention to the way he is with other people but mostly he’ll pay more attention to you.

Bambam: You complain a lot about your bra: how uncomfortable it is, how tight, itchy, etc. He turns this into an opportunity to buy you a new one, sexy and soft with lace. It’s a nice bra, you thank him for it with a smile and he’s excited. You never wear it; instead, you wear the bras you always complain about. At first he thinks he might have gotten the wrong size but it’s the right size – he checked. It’s the same size as your other bras and he can’t figure out way you won’t wear it. It bugs him for several reasons – mostly because he’s been looking forward to seeing you in it. Finally, he confronts you, whining that you didn’t like his gift. You lie, you try to change the subject but when he persists you explain – the one he bought doesn’t have enough padding. At first he doesn’t understand, he’s seen you with and without bras on plenty of times so why does the amount of padding matter. Once he gets a good look at your facial expression it clicks that this is a thing for you, something you feel uncomfortable about. He’s quick to assure you that your boobs are perfect, he likes your boobs, and you don’t need to wear anything that makes you feel uncomfortable. Whether that’s the bra he bought you or the ones you always complain about is up to you.

Youngjae: You answer the door without a second thought only to be horrified to find Youngjae on the other side. Quickly and admittedly rudely you duck behind the door hiding. You scold him for showing up without giving you a heads up. At his baffled, and possibly offended huff you blurt, “I haven’t even put on my makeup yet!” You ditch him in the door to do just that. He ignores your squawk of protest when he follows you into your bedroom. “Why wont you let me see you?” You whine, “Just let me put on some foundation at least.” He’s baffled by your reaction but it isn't until now that he realizes he's never seen you without makeup. He knows make-up can cover a lot but from the glimpses, he's catching of you there's nothing to hide (not that he would expect you to hide anything from him). At your distress, he backs out of your room talking through the partly closed door. "I just want you to know," he starts, "I don't care if you wear makeup or not - you're perfect to me." It's something he'll bring of from time to time but he never pushes the situation he figures you'll let him see you when you're ready.

Yugyeom: You spend all summer dodging his invite to go swimming much to his disappointment. No matter how many times he asks you always have an excuse not to go. As summer draws to a close he asks once more whining when you try to turn him down. You try to lie say you can’t swim but he tells you that’s okay, he can teach you. When you tell him honestly that you don’t have a swimsuit he tells you he’ll buy you one. You’ve turned him down so much lately that you can’t bring yourself to deny him again. That’s how you end up shopping for a swimsuit you don’t want. You’ve never liked the way you look wearing a swimsuit. He’s excited and helps you pick out several to try on. They’re all really nice but you’re reluctant knowing you won’t like the way you look. It’s stressful and depressing trying them on. At first, he thinks nothing of your refusal to let him see thinking the clothes must not fit. When you leave the dressing room in a huff demanding to leave he knows something is wrong. Gently he asks if you’re okay before coaxing an explanation out of you. “I don’t have the body for a swimsuit.” He vehemently denies your words. However, he agrees to take you home and drop the whole swimming thing if that’s what you want; but first, he’ll encourage you to keep looking. He's positive that you can find something that you’ll feel comfortable in. To him, you’re the most beautiful person and he doesn’t want you missing out because you don’t see yourself the same way.

This is part of my 30 Day scenario/reaction challenge

#got7 #got7 reactions #got7 scenarios

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