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togamest · 21 days

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chapter 2: umbrella beach

❝ home will always be here, unseen, out of sight, where I disappear and hide. I think dreamy things as I'm waving goodbye, so I'll spread out my wings and fly. ❞

word count: 2,904 content: gn!reader (no pronouns used), alcohol usage (kakucho drinks two rum punches which is his right), south cameo, beaching it jokes about being dead (izana's humor sucks), big tiddy bartender time. a/n: chapter two is here! this is relatively uneventful, mostly just kakucho traveling and being hit on by one of the beach bartenders lol. all the inspo for the room and the resort itself is from this villa in the philippines don't look too hard at that price tag i almost vomited when i saw it lmfao. and reader finally appears! i'm keeping them pretty gender neutral for this go around, but next chapter should be a lil spicy ;) did i mention south cameo??? he's gonna be ooc as hell and i don't care LOL. enjoy!! tags: @qichun @bajisdarling @kenpachisbrat @highpri3stess @fengxun @benkeibear @suyacho @bleach-your-panties @reiners-milkbiddies @honeybleed @mitsuwuyaa

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Kakucho barely recalls the night he left, and in addition, the entirety of the transport that led him here.

He did remember a plane, sitting next to a window with an empty seat beside him, which Izana happily took. A flight attendant had given him something fruity with rum in it, placed in front of him in a shock of red slush and a yellow umbrella on top. She’d said something close to enjoy your drink, but he hadn’t paid much attention to her response, simply nodding and taking a sip. His lips turned. It was all sugar and sweetness; but it felt good. Refreshing.

Izana smiles at him. Don’t like sweet drinks?

“No,” Kakucho says softly, taking another sip and quickly betraying his statement. He takes a moment for the slush to melt on his tongue before shrugging. “Well, alright, it’s pretty damn good.” He was never one for sweet drinks; he preferred whiskey, when he did drink, which was not often due to his past negligence. But hell, he’s on a plane on vacation. He’s allowed a few slip-ups. And one rum punch isn’t going to send him spiraling; this wasn’t a drinking binge under pressure. He was actually enjoying himself.

He’d turned his phone off, purchasing a burner on his way out of Tokyo. As the plane lifted off into the air, he could almost feel the claws of Bonten releasing from him, even just momentarily; he wondered if Rindou had told everyone, breaking his promise (although Rindou’s promises do tend to be pretty shitty in the first place) and stoking a fire. He can almost see it; Ran’s look of fake surprise, Koko’s look of real surprise, Mikey’s indifference as he wastes away at the top of a crime syndicate he never truly cared about in the first place.

He fears when he’ll have to come back. He may be dragged back, or not; either way, he’s hoping that it won’t be brutal. He can handle punishments at the hands of most of the Bonten members; hell, he could probably take many of them on himself. But he did fear them in some capacity; mostly because of how well some of them fit into the lifestyle they’d curated. It was a little terrifying seeing how easily they excused murder, or drug abuse, or using women for nothing more than pleasure. Kakucho wasn’t a prude by any means; but the way he’d seen some of them, especially Takeomi, treat some of the women they’d had at clubs put a horrible taste into his mouth.

Izana’s face comes into his frame of sight. You’re thinking too hard. They can function without you for as long as you need. Stop worrying about it.

Kakucho scoffs, blinking as he drags himself out of the spiral he’d certainly have fallen into if Izana hadn’t said something. “Probably. They’ll be at each other’s throats, I’d bet. That’s a sight I’ll miss seeing.” Thinking of Rindou with his shocking purple hair and glasses, easily a foot shorter than everyone else present, glaring up at Ran and Takeomi, Koko attempting to barter for a better sentencing, was both terrifying and hilarious. Him and Rindou had never been close, but he did happen to be the lesser of two evils. Although that wasn’t saying much, anyway.

The plane touches down so gently that Kakucho barely registers they’ve landed until he looks out the window.

He fully expects the concrete jungle of Tokyo, but instead, there’s appearances of green with the ocean spreading out to the horizon in front of him. The salty sea air stings his nostrils as he leaves the plane, Izana right next to him as he bounds down the stairs. Kakucho knows he didn’t grow up here, but he definitely feels a sense of home here nonetheless. Like how ghosts who didn’t live in one place but were culturally from somewhere else get their ashes spread there…something like that.

He breezes through baggage claim and getting to the resort is blurry; something about the driver knowing him with a wink, tinted windows making sure the glare of the sun doesn’t bother him so much, the receptionist smiling at him as he checks in, and finally, he stands in front of the door to his room. He has an extended stay for three months; Izana made sure that he booked for longer than his original two weeks. Two weeks wouldn’t be nearly enough to make him feel better.

He sucks in a breath through his teeth at the view.

Everywhere he looks, there’s a view of the sparkling blue ocean. Tropical birds perch on the windowsill, and fly off with sweet chirps as he enters, placing his bags on the floor. The smell of the sea is strong, but it smells cleaner than Tokyo; his mind is already more at ease. Izana follows him closely, flopping onto the bed. It doesn’t indent beneath him; another reminder that he’s not really here.

It’s so pretty here.

Kakucho hums, wandering out onto the porch as he lights a cigarette. The receptionist had stated this was a smoke-free resort, but Kakucho didn’t care. He was in his room, and he’s sure there’s a note on that reservation detailing who he is. Even so, he’ll pay the fee if he needs to as he takes a long drag, leaning on the window. Izana wanders over to him after leaving the bedroom, taking up residence on the chair next to him, settling in nicely as his eyes slide shut.

The sun hits his face, warm and cozy, just like the day where he’d last spoken to Koko.

For the first time in months, Kakucho smiles.

Kakucho’s sleep that night is nothing notable.

He awakens early, as he usually does, wandering down to the café for a pastry in his slides and board shorts, a Hawaiian shirt hanging off of his frame. He doesn’t bother buttoning it up; he’ll be on the beach soon enough, anyway. The pastries lined up on the table are light, tasting like sugar and cream and air as he bites into one. Izana watches him longingly, and Kakucho can’t help but chuckle.

“Missing real food, huh?”

Izana rolls his eyes.

Shut up. It’s one of the shitty things about being dead, you know. You’ll find out when you finally decide to die.

Kakucho laughs out loud at that, with Izana’s eyes glittering with humor at the jest. “Yeah, if I decide to die,” he says, gathering his things and walking towards the door to the beach, “and that’s an if. What if I just decide to live forever? Who’s gonna stop me?”

Izana doesn’t miss a beat. Rindou. Or Koko.

“Really? Rindou, my ‘good friend’? Sounds about right.”

The shorter man hums, but doesn’t comment on it. He knows better, Kakucho thinks; Rindou would sell him for a nice piece of paper if he had the means. And Koko? If he got a good enough deal…Kakucho was expendable, he knows that, even if the boys made it strongly known that he wasn’t. Their obsession into the topic only gave it away.

The sand is hot underneath Kakucho’s feet as he precariously ventures out; white sand being hot was a new one for him, but he acclimates to it quickly as he approaches one of the many lawn chairs strewn out. Sunscreen stings his nose as he removes his shirt, spraying it all over himself. Izana takes his place in the seat next to him, smirking at Kakucho’s effort of reaching the small of his back to rub in the sunscreen.

See, there’s a perk. I don’t have to wear sunscreen because I can’t get burnt.

“Wow,” Kakucho says, sarcasm dripping from his voice, “what a great perk of being dead. I’ll definitely enjoy not being burnt by the sun when I’m gone.”

The morning goes by quickly, the beach filling up with more people as the day drags on. Kakucho manages to get some sleep on the chair, before watching a group set up a volleyball net and draw out a field in front of him. They seem around his age, definitely here on their parents’ dime with the tans and expensive sunglasses and bikinis on some of the girls. One guy has a sprawling black tattoo, not unlike Rindou’s now that he thinks about it, spiraling up the side of his face and head.

After a while of watching them try and fail to successfully do a serve, Kakucho gets up to venture to the bar. Sweat makes his shirt stick to his back, so he removes it, leaving it behind. “Don’t go anywhere,” he jokes at Izana, who rolls his eyes again. Fuck off.

At the bar, the pretty bartender bats her eyelashes at him as he slides into a seat. She’s pretty, long black hair sticking to her skin from the heat, a sheen of sweat glistening along her body. Her blue bikini is working overtime to restrain her breasts that are threatening to spill out from the small cups, the bottom’s strings peeking out above her jean shorts.

“What’ll ya have, gorgeous?” she asks, her lip gloss shining in the sunlight as Kakucho’s gaze travels along the liquor bottles, “Can get ya a simple rum punch if ya want. It’s all the rage at the beach, of course.”

Kakucho nods, humming. “Sure. I’ll take two.”

She scrunches her eyebrows, as if looking around to see if he’s here with somebody. “For you and…?”

“Me and me. I deserve two of these, trust me.”

She giggles to herself as she grabs the rum. “You got a point there, pretty boy. What are ya doing here? Vacationing?”

Kakucho sighs. “Something like that. Just needed to get away.”

A hum. “Yeah, that’s what most of these people are doing. That, and using their trust fund parents’ money. Oh well, it keeps me in a job, even if they’re all a pain in the ass.”

She serves up the two rum punches with little umbrellas in them, before giving him another flashing smile. “Drink up! Feel free to come back for more.” With a wink, she wanders off to the other side of the bar, where a few middle-aged men are yelling for what’s on draft. She swings her hips as she does so, her thighs jiggling as she walks; Kakucho knows that tactic, he’s not stupid. He scoffs, grabbing his drinks, and leaving the bar. Little does she know that he’s not here for that; although her calling him pretty boy did make his chest twinge. Just a little bit.

The sand is hot underneath his feet again, having been in the shade for a few moments to lose the acclimation, and he tiptoes back to the chairs where Izana is waiting. He lifts up the drinks, smiling to himself, and—

“FUCK!”

Something hits him smack in the face, and he stumbles back, blinking in shock. His vision is blurry, but as he grips the drinks in his hands, he’s managed to not spill any of it. Thank God, because that would require another trip to the slutty bartender, and he’s really not ready to be objectified again. As he blinks rapidly for his vision to return, a figure swims in his vision, rapidly approaching him.

“Oh my God, I am so sorry!” a voice says. It’s feminine, middle pitch, and as his vision focuses…

He almost drops the drinks from that alone.

He barely has time to process the person in front of him before they’re yapping again, apologizing profusely as their hand grabs onto his arm, leading him back to where his chair is, sitting on the chair next to him. Kakucho’s vision finally comes back fully, and he takes in the sight in front of him. Izana has moved from the chair to stand behind him, red rage radiating off of him in waves.

All he can think of is pretty.

You’re gorgeous, hair tied up in a bun, baby hairs flying away, cheeks flushed from exertion and sweat covering your skin. Your bikini is a nice cerulean blue, matching well with your tan, gym shorts low on your hips. You’re saying something about how you suck at volleyball and you really should have noticed Kakucho was right there before you’d served, and—

He places the drinks down and grabs your hands. Your eyes go wide.

“It’s fine…uh—”

You say your name with a smile, sheepishly.

He smiles back. “Nice to meet you. I’m Kakucho. Probably not the best way to introduce yourself to someone, yeah? If you wanted to say hi, you could’ve found a…less violent way.”

You throw your head back in a laugh. “Yeah, you’re probably right. Although it did get your attention, I guess, right?” you shoot back, one of your eyebrows high on your forehead. He doesn’t respond at once, and you look back down at his hands wrapped around your wrists. “You gonna let go or do you do this to all the girls you meet?”

Kakucho’s face goes bright red, he can feel the burning as he rips his hands away, like he’s been stung. “Right, yeah, sorry,” he mumbles, and you laugh again. Your laugh is so pretty; like a wind chime. “No worries, I probably just gave you a concussion anyway. I can imagine you feel a little shaken up.”

There’s a beat of silence after you’re done speaking, and you take up the silence again. It’s clear you like to talk as you start again. “I’m gonna sit here with you if that’s alright. Feels like I should since I injured you and all that, and again, I’m no good at volleyball.”

“I’ll say,” Kakucho says, taking a sip of the rum punch, humming as the chill hits the back of his throat, “what are you guys here for, by the way? Vacation?”

You nod. “Yeah, South’s dad got us a few months here to hang out during the summer. It was either this or Rio, and South wasn’t very keen on going back. So, we decided on here.”

Kakucho nods again. “Rio de Janeiro, I assume? Who’s South?”

You point to the guy with the massive tattoo, who serves the ball and smashes it right into one of the other guys, who doubles over with a howl. South’s face splits into a massive smile as he grabs the girl next to him, pressing a messy kiss to her forehead as she giggles, attempting to push him away. He seems alright. Kind of like someone I know…

You two chat for a little longer, finding out what your backgrounds are. He thinks it’s part of a concussion test; if he can recall what he does and who he is, that’s probably a good sign there’s no brain damage. Turns out, you’re a student at one of the universities in Tokyo, studying some fancy subject that Kakucho didn’t really understand.

The sun is well past its zenith when Kakucho hears South calling for you, and he’s almost finished his rum punch when he nods at him. “Looks like your group’s leaving.”

You look over and wave, before looking back at Kakucho, smiling. “Yeah. See you around?” you ask, gathering yourself as you stand up. Kakucho nods, giving you his room number. “In case you get bored. I do have a cool patio bath thing I’ve been meaning to try out,” he says, and at your raised eyebrows, he swallows, “but no rush. Don’t want to seem weird. You just…feel like a breath of fresh air. Sorry if that’s a little weird.”

Your eyes shine as you smile at him. He wishes he could take a picture of you like that, frozen in time, happy.

You run off, joining South and the others as they wander off the beach, their things in tow. He watches you until your group is specks on the horizon, wandering back to the other side of the resort from him. He’s not sure you’ll come see him later, but the thought of you doing so makes him feel a little giddy.

In all honesty, Kakucho isn’t sure what he’s feeling, but it’s not just a friendly stranger feeling of meeting someone new. No, there’s something else. his chest feels tight, unusually tight as he sips his second rum punch, the alcohol loosening him up. Izana says nothing, taking up the spot you’d left on the chair again, staring off into the ocean.

Something fated, something that feels meant to be about all of this. Stars aligning and whatnot.

Whatever it is, he is certainly not ready for what is to come.

divider credit: @/benkeibear for the mdni banner and the gradient dividers!

disclaimer: please do not copy or repost my works for any reason. translations are acceptable, but please ask for permission first!

#kakucho x reader #kakucho hitto x reader #hitto kakucho x reader #tokyo revengers x reader #📝 ari's autographs

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neverglot · 9 months

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𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂 𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐑 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘

GENERAL

full name: victoria annabel everglot

nicknames: i don't think anyone's ever used one on her .

age: twenty - five .

gender: cis female .

species: human

orientation: closeted bisexual .

date of birth: i can't remember brb .

place of birth: england .

residence: evermore .

occupation: ballet teacher .

RELATIONSHIPS

parents: maudeline everglot ( mother ) , finis everglot ( father ) .

sibilings: none .

significant other(s): it's complicated i mean-

STATS

faceclaim: a.nya t.aylor - j.oy

eye color: light brown .

hair color: still trying to decide whether to make her platinum blonde bc gifs or brunette .

height: 5′5″

character inspo: victoria everglot ( corpse bride ) , edith cushing ( crimson peak ) , katrina van tassel ( sleepy hollow ) , jane eyre ( jane eyre ) , beatrice baudelaire ( a series of unfortunate events ) , bella donna by stevie nicks , the final girl trope

𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐄, 𝐒𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐘𝐒.

HEADCANONS

victoria is very, very artistically inclined, although she would never compare herself to victor in that aspect. she’s more of a dancer and takes ballet extremely seriously; her pointe shoes are very much an extension of her legs and she sees dance as a form of expression. there wasn’t much room for words or even emotion in the everglot household, so she did what she could to get by.

on that same note about the arts, she loves literature. she can probably quote some gothic literature by heart but don’t be fooled, she can also appreciate jane austen’s novels; they strike her as lighthearted and honestly, she can appreciate that.

because of her upbringing, she might come across as a bit too formal at times. slang isn’t much of a thing in her vocabulary and chances are some jokes will just not land the way they should. she’s trying her best though, i promise!

a sidenote to her not understanding a lot of jokes and whatnot: the exception would be literary puns and whatnot. i’m pretty sure she invented the “the opposite of formaldehyde is casualdejekyll” joke.

victoria adores her job as a dance teacher, but it was a bit of a struggle to adapt to it at first. her parents were never the most doting nor caring and her many tutors weren’t any more approachable, so it was a bit scary to put her reservations aside and allow herself to be open to children and tweens. she never had much experience with either prior to evermore, but she is incredibly grateful and pats herself on the back for how better she’s gotten at coexisting with them.

on the subject of children, she often feels like she never had much of a childhood. victoria can hardly remember a scraped knee or a cold from being out in the rain for too long. she can’t recall having ever had mud on her dresses or climbing a tree, let alone running barefoot on the grass. little things like that make her feel as though she hasn’t had much of a life, at least not until now.

it might be surprising to some to learn that victoria is extremely difficult to scare. more often than not she’ll be fascinated by strange, unusual things and will wish to learn more about them, so they’ll make sense to her. you’ll never hear her scream in fear, maybe a gasp and a hand over her mouth but that’s as far as it’ll go. i’m not sure there’s anything she’s genuinely afraid of when it comes to spooks and horror.

she thinks colors are beautiful, but not on her. the only colors you’ll ever see her wearing are black, browns and extremely deep reds, as she feels everything else just looks ridiculous on her (which might very well be because her mother said so).

she may or may not watch reality tv as a guilty pleasure of sorts, especially shows like say yes to the dress or 90 day fianceé. she just likes seeing what other people are up to when it comes to love and marriage; it makes her feel less lonely and even more hopeful.

#p.

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halcyonfiction · 2 years

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Now that Gege akutami has openly referenced Katsura Hoshino (author of my all time favorite manga D gray man) in Jujutsu kaisen (my current manga hyperfixation), I feel like I’m seeing some parallels between jjk and dgm. There’s some blatantly obvious ones, but also some really subtle and interesting ones as well!

To start off, you can definitely draw some comparisons between Yuuji and Allen as mcs (and maybe even yuuta a little bit). The friendly, unassuming main character who takes a while to show their true depths is a character design I find really interesting. With Allen, he gradually reveals his true personality, which is at odds with his self-presentation when he first meets people; he’s polite and friendly and kind to people he doesn’t know, but as the reader gradually learns, he’s also intensely stubborn (to the point of obsession), will cheat others when he deems it necessary, and can be a little bit of a brat (I love him). Outwardly, Yuuji has a similar friendly/outgoing nature, although he shows himself to be a frightening opponent to those who threaten his friends—yuuta even more so, arguably. I’m curious to see what more is revealed about yuuji’s past and character as the story develops! Another similarity between Allen and Yuuji is the ‘doomed to be possessed by a separate entity that lives inside them’ thing, which is an excellent segway to my next point:

The whole “everyone who works in this secret organization is doomed to die young and painfully in the name of an intangible greater good” definitely jumps out as a parallel. The shady, secretive, and definitely corrupt nature of the individuals leading the Black Order and jujutsu society both is interesting; I’d argue that the Zen’in clan’s behavior is similar to the Chan and Epstein families in the black order, although JJK explores that a little more than dgm does. In any case, Maki and Kansa definitely have the same vibe going on when they’re introduced, although I suspect where we saw Kanda opening up over the course of the series, maki will instead close off; her character development will almost be the inverse of Kanda’s, although that’s just a prediction.

I don’t in ANY way mean to accuse Gege akutami of plagiarizing or reproducing Hoshino’s work, both series are super unique and have very different trajectories, and I’m excited to see where they’ll both go! I just thought it was cool to think about how dgm might have inspired some of jjk’s features. It’s not a comparison I ever would have drawn on my own without the prompt in the most recent jjk chapter, but there are actually so many parallels when I think about it, and I LOVE the idea of my favorite manga authors getting inspo from my other favorite manga authors!! Makes me feel like I’m in on a secret :)

#jjk spoilers #dgm spoilers #jjk #dgm

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embrassemoi · 3 years

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Gleamin' Shiny and Bright ✿ L.E

Loving Lily made it feel as if the world suddenly became saturated with varying piercing bright colours that were hidden before. It was endless and expanded with every waking moment. She learned to love Lily in hues and shades of colours: reds also revealed to have pinks, blues suddenly had turquoise and periwinkle, purples became violets and lavender while yellow became creams and blended with red to make orange.

Pairing: Lily Evans x [F]Reader CW: Implied sexual content, fluff, a lot of fluff, discussions of marriage, fluff, Unbeta’d A/N: Inspo: Emerald Eyes by Fleetwood mac

【 Masterlist | Playlist | ao3 】

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Lily’s fingers softly trailed down the contours of Y/N’s spine as her lips trailed her jaw all the way up to her ear. Both laid bare, bodies intertwined in soft silk sheets, basking in the soft golden glow of the setting sun. Lily whispered seductively into her ear which had her skin burning in its wake.

“You’re insatiable!” she giggled, pushing Lily away playfully before turning to face her.

“Only for you.” Lily purred, before attacking her with peppered kisses. Y/N’s hands sneaked to cradle her face, weaving their way through her red, messy hair cascading all around her.

The way the warm rays spilled onto Lily made her look ethereal. A soft blush spread all over her cheekbones as Y/N subconsciously traced her freckles. They were laid out like a constellation, a road hidden with secrets and stories that only she knew.

She would consider herself lucky; to be able to touch, to know, to laugh and to hold someone like Lily Evans. Y/N could live a thousand lifetimes and still never feel worthy of someone like her.

She recalled the early stages of falling in love with Lily. It crept on her slowly, quietly but then pulled her into a whirlwind. Falling in love with her felt like climbing onto a roller coaster, being strapped in tightly and started moving. Every sharp twist, every slump and new loop constantly had her wanting more. The ride would speed up, her heart pound and fluttered before her stomach turned and twisted once the ride flipped upside down. But she was more than fine with that. Perfect, actually. It stayed like that, for weeks, for months until the ride came to a stop.

Being in love with Lily was like climbing off the ride, dazed and high, enriched in the atmosphere around. Everything felt soothing, like slipping into a warm bath on a winter’s eve. Even her name brought her to ease.

Every kiss pressed to her lips made Y/N feel sun-kissed, basked in a thousand stars. “I love you,” she breathed.

There was a soft gaze in Lily’s eyes as her forehead leaned against hers; eyes darting across her face like she was trying to commit everything to memory. Before Y/N went to open her mouth again, she was suddenly interrupted. Her words were quiet, breathy — barely above a whisper but it seemed like the loudest Lily had ever spoken.

“Do you want to get married?”

Y/N halts, becoming motionless and pulls away from Lily to stare unto her bright, emerald eyes as silence ensues. Her jaw is slacked, confused as she studies a-way-too calm Lily whilst her abdomen explodes with fluttering butterflies. They could both hear the soft crashing of waves in the background along with the seagulls singing their daily rituals. They both had rented out a small cottage in Cornwall for their second anniversary, their window wide open as the curtains moved as the breeze flowed in.

She swore her heart stopped.

“. . .What? Was that — are you proposing?”

But then the reality of what she said must’ve hit Lily all at once as the words fell from her lips because she sits upright, eyes wide and tries to seem unperturbed by Y/N’s shock. She rips away, hand threading through her hair as her mouth opens and closes like somehow the action would take back what she said.

“Ugh — Y’know. . . um — right, sorry. I — let’s er. . . forget what I said.”

Lily pushes up, away from her, the cool feeling of the evening breeze now surrounds them but Y/N grabs her wrist and pulls her back.

“No, continue!” she urged. Somehow, Lily’s blush deepens.

“Well — erm, no, I wasn’t proposing,” but then Lily sputters, quickly adding on. “It’s not like I don’t want to! I very much want to — it just won’t be like this? Wait, um — okay.” She stops to recollect herself. “We’ve just never talked about. . .” her eyes glance up to gauge her reaction, “marriage before. . . and once I propose, I just wanted to make sure you were on the same page?”

Y/N’s lungs seem to collapse, rip apart and then piece themselves back together as the implication from Lily’s words reverberated inside her now very empty head.

I want to, she said — once I propose. She said once and want to. That means it will happen — that she has every intention of marrying her eventually.

Lily Evans wants to marry her. She has to take a moment to process it, but the silence leaves Lily panicking.

“Nevermind, it’s stupid — not important —”

“Stop it,” she finally snaps out of her daze, “that wasn’t stupid. Far from it.”

Lily drops her head into her hands as she struggles to put her thoughts into words. Her palms eventually worm their way to press firmly against her eyes as her fingers yank down on her hair. She was struggling, immensely hard and Y/N’s heart ached at the scene. So, she moved closer to her, closing the gap between them as she placed an encouraging hand on Lily’s knee. That seemed to stop the intrusive thoughts altogether as she bit her lip.

She takes a deep breath of air, feeling the breeze help calm her down and chest starts to return to its normal intervals.

“I know I want to get married,” she states. Her eyes lock with Y/N’s as she desperately tries to make out how she’s feeling. Lily read every micro-expression, studied the way she blinked or breathed in hopes of an answer.

Y/N lets the words sink in for a second and her heart beats so hard against her chest she wonders if Lily could hear. But then Lily coughs; she wants a response — some sort — any sort of confirmation that what she said was okay. “So. . .”

“Wow.” Inwardly, she scolds herself.

Lily tilts her head. “Is that a bad wow?”

She gently lays herself back down on the soft pillows as Lily follows. They both face each other as the wind beckons them. She tucks a strand of fallen red hair behind Lily’s ears and Y/N couldn’t help but fall in love just a little more, a little harder and a few imagines of what their potential wedding could look like popped up.

“No," she reassured her, "but you really know how to leave me breathless, literally.” And then Lily let out a breathy chuckle and she smiled. Her smile… it lit Y/N up like a thousand stars. Her smile was so bright, so beautiful that it could make flowers grow and it was the most precious treasure Y/N could ever ask for. Her heart cooled, from the cool wind, to a warm contentedness.

She pulls Lily flush against her, pressing a soft kiss against her velvety lips and pulls back just enough to see her reaction but bathe in her warmth.

“I do too,” her breath fanned gently across Lily’s face.

She couldn’t contain her smile as her eyes crinkle. “You do?”

Her smile was wide and Lily’s eyes gleamed so brightly that they could rival emeralds themselves. Y/N knew for a long time too. Everything about their relationship made her feel safe, surrounded by a serenity that only Lily could provide. She made her feel hugged like freshly fallen snow on a mountain; eyes so profound that searched through the very inner workings of her soul. She felt new and exciting, yet like she’d known her forever. Lily was dazzling, beaming with glittering colours. She’d known for a while, it’s just the realization came a little later than her lover’s.

“I want to get married too.”

Lily tackled her into a hug which had them both chuckling out. Both in amusement, but filled with the purest love that made their hearts ache with pride.

And so they started brainstorming.

“Is there a time you would want to?”

“Anytime. We’re young, in love — the world is our oyster, blah, blah,” Y/N replies, but her answer is honest. Anytime. “Getting the timing down will be hard.”

“Imagine proposing and James see? I think he’ll wail and faint.”

“Or Sirius would make it about himself.”

“He would whine about not proposing to Remus first.”

“What about a public or private proposal?”

“Private.”

“I was thinking the exact same thing.”

“What about flowers?”

“Oh, pfft,” Y/N lets out a snort, “there obviously has to be —” “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re about to say.”

Y/N mocks offensive, dramatically rolling her eyes. “Let me finish!”

Lily rolled her eyes. “Terribly sorry.”

Her lips twitch into a knowing smirk, “— lilies. There have to be lilies. Maybe they’ll be my bouquet.”

“Of course, of course.”

“Preferably. . . would red clash with our scheme?”

“Red, as in my hair?”

“Yes.” “Then probably.”

They burst out into another fit of giggles. Maybe it was paradoxically — a placebo — cliche — but Y/N felt her heartbeat calm at the thought. Maybe it was finally getting an answer, that they’re taking their relationship to the next level. Marriage. . . forever. . . It's said to be scary, but maybe it’s because it’s with Lily that it seems the exact opposite.

Unknowingly, for their fourth anniversary two years from then, they both bought a set of rings with one question heavy in their hearts, knowing deep down what their response would be.

Yes.

And then, I do.

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blue-writes-things · 3 years

Text

Loved By A Heartbreaker | Chapter Two

Sirius Black x Reader | Fluff

“…You know sometimes I still get afraid of what’s around me, but I feel safer when I’m with you.”

| Masterlist | Series Masterlist |

Words: 1743 A/N: the 3 written chapters are all up here! just working on the mastlist post now (doing a few of them) chapter 4 is coming alone! I’ve jsut been kinda busy so I can’t write much new stuff, but I’m going to be posting all my old stuff here! Inspo Playlist

Feedback is always appreciated! - Blue

Lily and James dating was cute

Remus being genuinely happy single was sweet

Peter trying to date was disturbing at best

Sirius trying to date you was tiring

You and Lily were the first out of your friend group to get to the great hall for breakfast.

But the calm chatter in the hall was disturbed as The Marauders came racing into the room and sat down as fast as they could.

“Ha! Wormy you lost” Sirius taunted as Peter finally sat down “Have fun cleaning under James’s bed” Peter didn’t seem to care in that moment, he was more focused on not passing out, he was quite the sight, sweating, red faced and panting (Even though it’s not even that far from the Gryffindor Tower to the great hall)

“Seems we got three dogs here by the way he’s panting” James laughed getting playfully shoved by both Sirius and Remus.

“And good morning to you” You and Lily laughed.

Sirius wrapped his arm around your shoulders “Good morning, marshmallow”

No one in the group wasn’t laughing.

“I think that’s the worst one yet Pads” you said as everyone started calming down “Do you even know what a marshmallow is?”

Since Sirius grew up in a very pureblood environment he didn’t know much about the muggle world, cause if he even looked at something not ‘drenched in abracadabra’ he would get punished. So the little he knew mostly came from you and Lily.

“Yes! You use them to make s’mores” He looked rather proud of himself for knowing that “And I call you marshmallow, as I want s’more of you” He winked, everyone at the table was groaning at the pun.

“You’re driving me wild with these nicknames Siri” You shake your head, shrugging his arm off you “And you’re driving me wild” he smirks and winks, he loves twisting your words into a flirt.

“You walked into that one Y/n” James laughed, making the group laugh along with him. The conversation continued cheerfully. Sirius slipping his hand to your knee, you had raised your eyebrow at him, but didn’t move his hand. Just to tease him. Not because it felt nice, cause it didn’t. Right?

A familiar owl flew down to your group, it was The Noble and Most Ancient House of Assholes’s owl, as Sirius untied the letter getting a small nip from the owl, the rest of the group were exchanging knowing looks.

“You don’t have to open it Sirius” Remus gave a smile, everyone went back to their food and didn’t stare or intrude on the conversation.

“I know I don’t have to, and I probably shouldn’t, but what if it’s important?” Sirius turned the letter over, looking at the family's wax stamp. You quickly snatched it from his hand and slid it into your robes

“Important or not, you can read it later. We have History Of Magic in three minutes, and it’s on the other side of the castle, so we better haul ass if we wanna get there in time and not get a detention”

Sirius was about to object but before he could, James called “Pads! Wormy! last too class has to clean under Peter’s bed”

And he took off, Sirius going after him straight away “Oi! Tosser that’s cheating!” He calls after him laughing. Peter, who’s face had only just turned back to sickly white. “Why am I always roped into this?” he sighs before taking off as well.

You, Lily and Remus smile standing up walking out of the hall “Do you think they’ll realise we have half an hour till class?”

The three of you laugh “Ok, but question for you, why are the consequences cleaning under eachothers beds?” Lily asked

“There’s some scary shit under them, socks are even too scared to go under them” He almost shudders.

“What do you mean ‘scary shit’? What’s under them?” Lily asked as you turned a corner “You don’t wanna know Lily, I’ve been in there, the beds growl at night”

“Wait, why were you in the boys dorm?” She smirks, her mind went to you and Sirius ‘having fun’ yeah no, that will never happen. You and Remus look at eachother, knowing the real reason

You know about Remus’s ‘furry little problem’ and have helped him at night several times, mostly on bad nights when the other boys are exhausted too. You’ll stay there till Remus is asleep and sneak back to your dorm which is difficult, since it looks like Filch’s office is on their floor (It probably is)

You really didn’t want to give Sirius the letter, knowing it would upset him, you just hoped he forgot about it. As curfew hits and the gang are all ‘winding down’ which is doing what you all normally do, just in the common room.

You and Sirius were sitting rather comfortably together, you were on a single armchair and he was on the floor in front of the chair so you could tie his hair up for bed, so ‘My lushes locks aren't a mess in the morning’ although he just liked you playing with his hair though (But he would never admit it out loud) . You were the only person he would let touch his hair.

“Hey Y/n? can I have my letter?” He tilted his head up to look at you “Say please” You tease with a smirk, he playfully rolls his eyes at you “Pretty please” he gives you puppy dog eyes, something you could rarely say no to. You pass it to him, pulling his hair out of it’s bun and starting again, giving him head scratches every so often, knowing he loved it when you did that.

He opened it and the classic Sirius grin face fell slightly. He scoffs, throwing the letter into the fire before sitting back against the chair.

“You ok- “ James started after seeing the whole scene play out but Sirius cut him off “Yeah, I’m all good Prongs, just the normal shit, nothing interesting” he shrugs.

The group goes quiet for a moment before Lily fills the silence. “Everyone finished the Herbology paper? It’s due tomorrow” Everyone nodded, except you, your eyes went wide “It’s due tomorrow?”

“Yeah?” Lily questions

“I thought it was next week! Oh merlin” You slump forward “Welp, I’m going to be up past 3am”

Looking at the clock above the fireplace “Urg, you guys should head to bed. Don’t wanna be around when I have my breakdown” everyone chuckles

“You sure you don’t want someone to stay with you?” Remus frowns “I could stay up and help if you want?”

“That’s very kind Rem, but I promise I’ll be ok” You smile “Now go to bed!” You shoo everyone away and summon some parchment, a quill and your Herbology book, before shuffling over to the coffee table by the fire. Sirius came over and sat next to you, before you could object he put his finger to your lips, shushing you “I’m not leaving, don’t bother trying” he smiles with a wink.

The two of you talked for a bit while you did your work, before falling into a comfortable silence. It was nice to have Sirius being chill, not flirting or touching you. Strangely, it made you a bit nervous, something about his postuare, how his hair was a mess. Even though you had just put it up he seemed like he was off in a far away land and not next to you.

“Sirius?” You said softly but he just continued to stare into the fire “Siri?” You repeated a little louder. Still nothing.

“Padfoot?” You used his nickname, maybe that would help bring him out of it quicker but he didn’t even flinch. At this point you were getting scared.

You knew in the back of your head this would be a dumb thing to do. But the stressed out front of your brain was screaming at you to help him. “Pads?” You slowly and gently place your hand on the one Sirius had laid on the table next to you and that snapped him out of it.

He instantly jolted, letting out a snarl and grabbed your wrist in a death grip, his nails digged into your skin, leaving indents on your wrist from his nails. “Siri, It’s just me, Y/n” His brain seemed to be trying to process who you were, but something was clouding his mind.

“Sirius, you're at Hogwarts. It’s just me and you. You are safe”

Those last three words seemed to clear his vision. His eyes softened, the tight grip he had on your wrist changed from ‘I’m going to break your wrist’ into ‘I’m going to break’

“Safe?” Sirius whispered so softly you almost missed it.

“Yes safe, you’re safe with me” Moving slowly you take his hand, removing it from breaking your wrist and intertwining your fingers together, giving his hand a soft reassuring squeeze. “I’m safe.”

This time it was more like he was making a statement to himself. You gave him a gentle smile and nodded your head.

You placed your other hand to his cheek, he flinched at first but when he realized you weren’t going to hurt him. He leaned into your hand closing his eyes.

That gesture is what made a tear fall down your cheek. That this hurt and scared boy trusted you enough to close his eyes. Knowing you weren’t going to hurt him in any way. Knowing you would only do the opposite, keep him safe from harm, you pull him into a hug, he buries his face in the crook of your neck and bunches your shirt in his hands.

“You know sometimes I still get afraid of what’s around me, but I feel safer when I’m with you.“ He mumbled as he started to settle down, it was clear that he was still shaken by whatever he was thinking about, but being in your warm embrace, mixed with your words, he felt safe.

“You know, Sirius, I’m gonna be real with you. Sometimes I find you a real pain in the arse, but you are one of my closest friends. And I hope you know I’m always here for you” you gave him a small kiss on his temple, you knew he didn’t want pity, in fact he hated being pitied, he needed a friend.

Sirius Black is going to be safe with you

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twinkleton · 4 years

Note

how abt a douxie x reader fic where douxie and the reader are enemies to lovers back in camelot, but merlin, being able to glimpse into the future, knows they’ll be together in the end, so he pushes douxie to be nicer to the reader! I love your writing btw! your douxie imagine was so precious 💗

hello! thanks for your ask! and thank you so much! it was hard to think of a reason as why douxie would hate the reader, but then I rewatched the first episode of wizards and got my inspo for this fic :) hope you enjoy!

tw: blood

“Don’t be afraid, I’m here to help you,” said Morgana, as she held out her hand to a girl with her back against the wall, tucked away in a back alley. The girl had just been caught performing magic by a guard, which was strictly forbidden in Camelot. To avoid being thrown in a dungeon, she sprinted off towards the nearest alleyway, however luckily for her she was spotted by the only person who could possibly help her.

“Please don’t turn me in, I swear I’ll never do magic again. Please just let me go-” Morgana cut her pleas.

“Not practicing magic is the last thing I want from you, dear,” she assured. Morgana handed the girl her cloak, prompting her to wear it. “What is your name?” she asked.

“Y/N. I’m afraid I have no family name.”

“Never be ashamed of that, Y/N. Be proud that you have no legacy to follow. Your destiny is entirely your own,” Morgana placed her hand on her shoulder. A sigh of relief came from Y/N. She felt safe enough to let her guard down and trust this woman. Trust being something she hadn’t given anyone in so long.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To the King’s castle, you’ll be safe there,”

“But the King hates anything and everything involved with magic!” Y/N exclaimed.

“True,” Morgana led her out of the alley and towards the path to the castle. “However, his sister makes the exception,” Y/N gave a soft gasp. She’d never known the King had a sister. This calmed her worries as they headed to what would be her new home.

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

Adjusting to life at the castle was pretty simple for Y/N. She got along great with Merlin, King Arthur never threw her into the dungeon, and Morgana introduced her to magic beyond what she ever thought she’d be capable of. There was only one person who kept it from being perfect. Hisirdoux.

“For the last time, will you please stop touching my belongings?!” Y/N snapped, grabbing her spellbook Hisirdoux was trying to read from his hands. In her opinion, he had been doing absolutely anything to get on her nerves the past few weeks she’s been here. She went to take a seat at the desk in Merlin’s study that they were both in.

“I don’t understand why Merlin and Morgana trust you with magic but not me! I’ve been here much longer than you have!” Hisirdoux complained. Here he was, tasked to sweep the floor for the thousandth time, while Y/N is practicing spells he hasn’t even heard of yet. He didn’t even recognize the spellbook Merlin gave her. He sat on top of a pile of books in a corner.

Y/N scoffed. “Maybe it’s because I have some things called discipline and control. Things you clearly lack,” she spat, flipping a page in her book.

“I do not lack control!” The broom he had tried bewitching earlier whacked him upside the head, as if in response.

“Even your broom agrees with me,” Y/N teased.

That was enough to set something off in Hisirdoux. Unbeknownst to her, he managed to read one spell from her book before she took it away. Now, he has the bright idea to test it.

Y/N was too focused in her reading to notice Hisirdoux switching his bracelet to the rune needed for the spell. He planted his feet, took a deep breath in, and held his hands out towards him.

“Ortum obumbratio, ortum obumbratio, ortum obumbratio,” he repeated over and over, and all of the light in the room darkened. There was suddenly a chill in the air.

It was his second repeat that Y/N recognized as one of the spells from her book. It was definitely the worst spell for Hisirdoux to be doing. She shot up from her seat.

“Hisirdoux! Are you insane?! This book is shadow magic, it is way too dangerous for you!” Her hands came to her side, glowing scarlet with her magic.

He gave no response, still repeating the spell again and again. It seemed the shadows were taking over him, with streaks of black starting to form all over his skin, and his eyes turning back as well. Slowly, dark phantoms came creeping along the walls of the study. One came up behind Y/N, reaching to grab her. She felt the presence and quickly backed away from it. She wasn’t, however, fast enough to avoid another shadow, which slashed at her. It striked her all along her chest to her left shoulder. She let out a cry from the pain. Blood immediately started spilling from the wound.

“Hisirdoux, you have to snap out of it!” she yelled. Still nothing from him. She saw no other choice.

“I’m sorry,” she warned, as she shot her magic towards him, causing him to fly across the room, slamming against a bookcase, causing it to fall. Y/N pulled him away from the bookcase before it landed on him. The shadows suddenly vanished, with the light flooding back into the room. Hisirdoux awoke with a gasp.

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

Merlin had been at his wits end with the two apprentices. The constant bickering and fighting made absolutely no good environment for him to create the amulet needed for the upcoming war. Y/N was a talented and bright witch, but her attachment to Morgana could lead her on the wrong path. Merlin needed something to keep that from happening.

An idea had come into his mind earlier to use the time map. Hisirdoux and Y/N were taking residence in his study so he decided to move to another room nearby before opening it. He sat down on the bed inside, and opened the map. He scrolled through time, what he was searching for he wasn’t entirely certain. However, he eventually found it in the twenty-first century. The map showed Hisirdoux and Y/N in a tight embrace, then letting each other go slightly only to pull into a loving kiss, over and over again in a loop.

He let out a small chuckle, staring affectionately at the image.

“Love will always conquer evil, won’t it Hisirdoux?”

A loud bang abruptly came from his study. He quickly hid the map away and ran towards the sound.

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

“WHAT THE DEVIL IS GOING ON IN HERE?!” Merlin bellowed.

It was a justifiable response to the sight he held. His study was a mess, books and trinkets scattered all across the room. Pieces of glass were shattered and all over the floor. One of his bookcases was entirely knocked over, where a dazed and confused Hisirdoux laid beside it. Y/N had collapsed to the floor, leaning against the wall. She was covering her wound with her hand, albeit unsuccessfully as blood was seeping through her fingers.

Morgana had burst into the room as well, wide-eyed and appalled at what she was currently witnessing.

“Hisirdoux, Y/N, explain yourselves this instant!” she commanded.

Hisirdoux was at a loss for words. The idea of having to explain what happened mortified him.

“I-I didn’t mean, I didn’t mean for this-Y/N I’m so sorry-”

“I’ll tell you what happened,” Y/N rose up from the ground, grimacing from the pain coming from her injury.

She made direct eye contact with Merlin. “Your apprentice thought it’d be a good idea to perform shadow magic, something he has never been able to accomplish. I’d congratulate him on achieving it this time, if I didn’t have to save him from it consuming him due to his lack of control,” she throws him a nasty glare. Hisirdoux retreats his eyes to the floor.

“Hisirdoux, is what she’s accusing of you true?” Merlin questioned. He had no benefit of doubt in his tone however.

It takes everything in him to look up at everyone. All of their faces are brimming with disappointment.

“Yes. It’s true,” he confessed.

“Y/N,” Morgana calls. Y/N walks over to her. “Let’s deal with that wound before it gets infected.”

She glances towards Merlin. “Deal with him, or I will.” With that threat hanging in the air, she and Y/N leave.

Merlin says nothing to Hisirdoux, which fuels his anxiety more than him speaking ever would.

“Master, please say something.” he pleaded.

“Do you realize the destruction you have caused?” Merlin spat.

“Yes I-”

“You’ve destroyed my study.”

“I know I-”

“You almost brought dark shadows that would wreak havoc on Camelot.”

“Yes! Please-”

“And worst of all!” Merlin shouted. “You almost got Y/N and yourself killed.”

Hisirdoux sank at that. He was ashamed of all of it, but what he regretted the most of all was putting Y/N in danger. He wouldn’t have been able to live with himself had he gotten her killed. They had their differences and petty arguments, but the last thing he wanted was her death. She didn’t deserve that.

“I-I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I just wanted to prove for once I was capable of something greater. That you could trust me with more than just sweeping.” He looked over to where the broom was, walked over and picked it up off the floor. “I was wrong, all I’ll ever be capable of is clean up duty.”

Merlin let out a big sigh. “Hisirdoux, I know you are capable of far more than sweeping. Your skill will undoubtedly match with Y/N.”

Hisirdoux looked up at Merlin, with eyes almost pleading for him to continue.

“I’m afraid it’s my own fear that is holding you back. The stronger you become, the greater the threats you will have to face. However, running errands for me and Morgana keeps you safe and away from harm. I owe you an apology, had it not been for my trepidation, none of this would’ve happened.”

Of all of the possible responses he could’ve gotten, Hisirdoux wasn’t expecting that one. He has never seen this caring side of Merlin before, but he’d be lying if he said he didn’t like it.

There’s a moment of silence again, only this time it’s ended by Merlin giving Hisirdoux two strong pats on the shoulder. Hisirdoux grins.

Merlin continues, “Now, about dear Y/N.”

The grin on Hisirdoux’s face vanishes. “Please don’t tell me I have to apologize right now.”

“Go apologize to her right now. And don’t-”

“But Master!-”

“But Master me. And do something about this mess.”

And with that, Merlin leaves the study, leaving Hisirdoux alone with the mess and his thoughts.

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

A few hours later, Y/N was resting in her room when she heard a knock at the door.

“Who’s there?”

Hisirdoux opened the door, poking his head out sheepishly.

“It’s me, may I come in?” he asks.

“That depends, are you going to try to kill me again?”

“Not today, maybe next week?”

That earns a small laugh from Y/N.

“Come in, you fool.”

He walks in, immediately noticing her chest and shoulder wrapped up. Some blood has soaked through the gauze. The feeling of guilt invades his heart.

“Y/N I am so, so deeply sorry. I should have never tried that spell. You were right, I had no control. I let my ego get the best of me. Please, forgive me.”

She takes a deep breath in, then out, and finally smiles at him.

“Mind helping me switch the wrappings?” she asked kindly, apology clearly accepted.

He’s grinning from ear to ear, excited at the chance of helping her for what could be the first time since they met. He sits down beside her on her bed, taking out the gauze from the dresser next to the bed.

Y/N has already started unwrapping the gauze from her shoulder, wincing once it becomes too hard to do the rest on her own. Hisirdoux takes over from there, slowly and carefully undoing the rest for her. Once the wound is revealed, another twinge of regret hits Hisirdoux.

“I’m so sorry,” he says, his words laced with remorse.

“You’ve already apologized, really it’s my turn to apologize to you,” Y/N replies softly.

He begins wrapping her shoulder up again, “Whatever for? You were right about all of it. I’m a screw up.”

“Hey,” Y/N uses her good arm to raise a hand to his cheek, moving his face towards hers. He looks into her eyes, realizing for the first time just how vibrant they are.

“You’re not a screw up, you just haven’t reached your full potential yet. Besides, I’m not perfect at all. You’re lucky you’re not there when I train with Morgana. It can be a real hot mess sometimes, literally I almost burned Morgana’s hair off one time,” she joked. Hisirdoux laughs, wishing he could’ve been there to see that.

“I’m sorry for not being fair to you these past few weeks.” Y/N says remorsefully. By now Hisirdoux has finished wrapping up her shoulder.

He replies, “How’s the idea of starting over sound?” She beams at him, clearly agreeing with the idea. “Sounds perfect, Douxie.”

He smiled, liking the new nickname she’s given him. Y/N realizes she still has her hand on his face, and lets it fall off. Douxie catches it instead, and they hold each other’s hand, gossiping and poking fun at their masters for a while.

#douxie x reader #hisirdoux x reader #douxie #hisirdoux casperan #tales of arcadia #trollhunters #merlin #morgana #toa douxie #toa #douxie imagine #ask prompt

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blueeyedrichie · 4 years

Note

okay as a ~*~*distraction*~*~ what part time job do you think each loser would work in the 00’s au? (or any timeline you want)

oop piggybacking off my last ask to add that I personally love Richie working at a movie theater/video rental/store like Newbury Comics (idk if that’s a national chain or not)

okay i’m not joking when i say that i read the first ask and was like “RICHIE VIDEO RENTAL STORE” and then saw your second ask and i fully screamed bc of course we would have the same brain once again :’) soooooo

richie: i’m fully thinking that like he would work at some local place when they are still living in derry, and when they move away for college he would work at blockbuster and think it’s literally the coolest thing ever. like he’s FINALLY gotten to the highest tier of video rental stores. and the other losers are like “dude you do realize that like rental stores are a dying business right” but richie works there til the bitter end, a big part of that being that all the kids that come in think his voices are super funny, like whatever movie they rent richie will talk to them in the voice of the main character or something and it’s just really fun for him. also free candy, helloooo? and the losers are all v supportive and come rent movies from him specifically. and he also tries to get eddie to go into the 18+ room, and eddie’s like “dude we literally are 20 years old, it’s not like we have to sneak in” but richie just thinks it’s funny and so sometimes they’ll run in there together only to run back out giggling like little kids because it’s fun and they can (pls ignore that my timeline here is probably way off from the actual 00′s au i’m just ~doin what i want~) and i think toward the end of working here is when he’d really start to focus more on like his rtvf degree bc i love that for him and he’d get his first dj job while he’s still in school

eddie: mechanic shop!!!!!! let that boy enjoy his love of cars!!!!!! again, he’d work at a local place until they move and tbh probably have a hard time finding a solid job because he just has the little bit of experience from derry. but with the support of his friends and his determination he finally lands a job at a pretty reputable mechanic shop in new york (i’m just going with new york but i mean they could be anywhere) and he quickly becomes one of their top mechanics. he also is taking automotive technology classes and i imagine him getting an internship or something and getting to work on really fancy cars and stuff, though he truly prefers working on like old cars and helping his friends out. he fully teaches richie how to change the oil in his truck at some point bc he gets sick of richie always taking it in for something so simple and paying for it with his ~blockbuster savings~ and he also shows everyone how to change their tires :’)

stanley: i think stan would volunteer at like zoos and animal adoption places. at first he’s mainly just like a janitor and cleans up the walking paths and runs concessions and stuff, which he’s honestly okay with because he gets to spend a lot of time just bird watching and admiring the animals and practicing his bird calls. and i think once they all move, he’d get a position at a big zoo as like a guide and he would teach lessons on how to tell different birds apart and how to do bird calls. i think even when he does get the job, he’d probably still volunteer at animal shelters on the side and he’d be the person in the room with the people who will potentially be adopting to see how the animals respond and he gets to decide if they get to adopt or not

mike: i really love the idea of mike working in antique shops. i can see him falling in love with some little shop in derry that is probably on its last legs and asking for a job, and they probably tell him they don’t need the help but he is persistent and basically ends up just working there and while they can’t afford to pay much, they let him take random things he finds home. of course, along with all the trinkets there would be tons of old literature there and he’d spend a lot of his time reading. in new york, he’d probably be in search of similar shops that he can fix up and find more cool items, and he always gifts each of the losers cool things he finds that makes him think of them. i can also definitely see him working in the university library sometimes, but i think he’d love finding old photos and books and knick knacks and learning about where they all came from

beverly: honestly i think bev would work at a movie theatre, but spend almost all of her time flipping through magazines and drawing up sketches of clothing and listening to music. she starts at concessions and moves up to box office, and she definitely sneaks the other losers in to watch movies for free. she and richie argue about whose job is better and who has the better candy (it’s literally all the same, eddie will tell them) and she also gets to bring home movie posters and distributes them amongst the losers. she definitely gets caught letting them all in for free movies and has to stay late to mop the theatre floors, but little does her boss know that the losers will continue to sneak in anyway and help her clean up. i think she’d keep working there until she gets an internship with a designer. all the losers keep the movie posters that she’d given them over the years

bill: bill works in used bookstores and libraries, and also prefers to accept his pay in the form of taking as many books home as he can. he’s usually there on his own, and he always brings notebooks (this dude can’t afford a laptop yet okay) with him so that he can write his own stories when he isn’t reading. i also can fully see one of the gifts that mike gives is a typewriter to bill that he finds in one of the antique shops :’)) the shops in derry aren’t very busy, so he gets to spend most of his time there reading not only novels, but also books on being a writer and this is where he learns a lot about becoming an author. in ny, i can definitely see him being a library aide and i just have a very vivid image of bill on one of those slidy ladder things looking through the books on the top shelf and being mesmerized by just how much there is to read. even when he isn’t actually working, he’s in a corner of the library working on his original works and just enjoying the atmosphere

ben: ben works at a comic shop, but most of his time is spent sketching buildings and rearranging the store shelves so that it’s neater and makes more sense in the aspect of ~architecture~ and his boss is like in true shock every time he comes into the store in the morning and finds not a single comic out of place like he always did with the people that worked there previously. he draws inspo for big, fancy buildings from things he sees in the comics and likes to redraw them to a realistic scale and imagine what they would look like in real life. the losers of course love to visit him here as well, and they help him choose his best sketches to create a portfolio before they go off to college where he presents it to his professor who would honestly be pretty impressed by it all (and i’m thinking would prob be like “is this the building from ~insert comic here~ and ben would be like YES) and that’s how he gets an internship in architecture

AHHHHH this got so fucking long omg thank you for sending <33333

#rchtzr #meg ily this was rly fun #the losers club #00s losers au #yeah I’ll tag that LOL #I’m having so many thoughts omfg

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kcrinas · 3 years

Text

hi sexies ! i’m dani ( she/her ) , 21 & i’m from the gta aka ur messy canadian wassup 🤠 thank u guys sm for applying all ur muses are so beautiful & im sm in love already ! i rly wanna plot w every single one of u so pls give this a like for permission for me 2 come bug u for plots ! 🖤 karina’s info & wanted connections r under the cut !

karina maji was spotted in the fashion district adorning gucci leather ankle boots , with some airpod pros on . they’re most likely listening to don’t stop by meg thee stallion . you may know them as @karina or as that mishti rahman lookalike . their twenty - fourth birthday just passed . while living in tribeca , they’ve gained a bit of a reputation . they’re known to be tenacious but on the other hand quixotic . wonder if they’ll be the next person to hit the headlines . ( cisfemale / she/her + dani / 21 / she/her )

* ��𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 :

full name : karina aarvi maji .

nicknames : kar , rina , maji

age : twenty - four .

gender : cisfemale , she/her .

sexual orientation : pansexual .

hometown : chicago , illinois .

occupation : professional mma fighter / instagram model .

zodiac chart : aquarius sun , gemini moon , scorpio rising .

character inspo : alicia mendez ( kingdom ) , cristina yang ( grey’s anatomy ) , princess jasmine ( aladdin ) , megara ( hercules ) , alyssa ( the end of the f*cking world ) , kat stratford ( 10 things�� i hate about you )

* 𝐛𝐢𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐩𝐡𝐲 :

tw : death , accident , drugs .

karina’s life began in chicago , illinois . born where her parents spent their life , grew up together & eventually ended up married . it was the perfect love story , best friends - then lovers - then soulmates . tied for life , married young , in their mid 20′s . but the love between the two of them never faltering once even after another 10 years pass .

her mother , was a highly sought after model . her father , one of the most legendary ufc fighters in the league . the maji’s were considered royalty to the tabloids , their love story inspiring many . their life was seemingly so perfect , a dream to many . & when they found themselves blessed with a little girl after five years of marriage , it just made them an even more “ perfect ” family .

karina was treated like a princess , her parents adored the ground she walked on & karina did the same with them . she was well - behaved growing up , knowing how lucky she was to be living so luxurious , something her parents taught her to appreciate since she was old enough to understand . they drilled gratefulness into her head by the age of five . it was a very rare occurrence where karina would fight or disrespect her parents .

they lived in chicago for many years , a way for them to keep their roots established while raising karina . & have more privacy than living in their career hubs would give them - aka , nyc or la . it was much more accessible for her father to work out of chicago , but for her mother , there were many hours spent travelling between chicago & new york . too many .

( tw death , plane crash ) it was the mere age of 17 , when karina’s loving mother never returned home from her trip to new york . tragedy struck when her plane crashed due to pilot error . the day that changed not only karina’s life permanently , but her father too . both their hearts broke into two that day .

she wondered for months how she could possibly continue life & living without her mom in it . & the older she got , the more & more the feeling invaded her . through every life experience she had afterwards she wished with everything in her that her mom was there next to her .

karina went from a happy , extroverted & polite girl to a closed off , sardonic & enigmatic woman . it was as if the light was taken out of her body & she turned into someone unrecognizable .

( tw drugs ) it tore her dad apart , after taking a year off to mend , he fell into a spiral of alcohol & drugs , and he never went back . his career completely ended . to this day , her dad hasn’t stepped foot in the ring since her mother’s death .

her senior year of high school - karina fell into that same spiral . using cocaine , xanax , weed & booze to cure her broken heart . & she felt like it did , for a little while anyway . by some miracle , she graduated with her diploma . but that didn’t mean much anyway , karina wasn’t going to college , she knew exactly what she wanted to do with the rest of her life .

karina grew up religiously watching her dad fight , she’d seen tapes of every single one of his fights before she was old enough to watch them & from before she was born . religiously trained & boxed with her father every sunday since she was eleven . she learned the ins & out at a young age , & fell in love with the sport the second she took her first swing .

she fell even more heavily into training after her mom passed , spending practically every single day honing her skills & building herself to follow in her dad’s footsteps & become one of the best fighters the ufc has ever seen .

began building her career at eighteen by moving to new york city , she was signed by the age of 20 . suddenly appearing in the tabloids , there was something about her that seemed to bring in people’s attention . mma fans or not , she gained a large following on social media .

suddenly , she was getting sponsorship offers left & right . whether it was mma related or sugarbear hair , she was getting them . karina took the ones that paid her well , & her following just seemed to keep rising every day after that , basically became considered an “ influencer ” along with her other title .

at the age of 21 , karina became one of the youngest female ever to be signed by the UFC . this was a big deal to her , as it’s a dream so many fighters wish for . something it takes years of hard work & dedication to accomplish . something she worked her entire life for .

she’s been fighting with the ufc for the last three years , loving every minute of it . the intense training , the fights , the interviews , it all gives her a rush she can’t explain . something drugs couldn’t give her , which she’s required to get tested for every once in a while , usually before a fight . she’s found her ways around using without it ruining her career and/or getting caught . let’s see how long that lasts .. ; - ) ksjndfsfd

with all the money that she’s reigned in the last few years from the ufc along with her instagram sponsorships , she’s sending a lot of it to her father , considering his “retirement” fund is basically non - existent while he stays cooped up in their chicago family home , surrounded by memories of her mother . while karina stays resided in her cozy tribeca home , only steps away from her training gym .

* 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 :

karina is a v hard nut 2 crack . she’s closed off , sardonic & doesn’t really converse much with strangers

it’s basically been her & her dad since her mom’s passing , so she’s very hard to get close to . but once u do , she’ll never let u go .

she’s loyal to a fault , because she’s always afraid of people leaving / d*ing .

she’s trying to branch out & make more friends since moving to tribeca , but she truly doesn’t open up to anyone . if she opens up to you about her life or her past , she truly trusts u , & that means something

she tends to come off as intimidating or .. bitchy , even when she doesn’t mean to . her personality just tends to be dry . she tends to have dark humour , so she has to be careful who she makes jokes around skndfkk

sometimes tends 2 stir up drama even by accident . nskjkf

if she’s not training for a fight , she’ll be out partying every night . dancing on tables & probably getting herself kicked out of whatever bar/club she found herself in that night . doing what she can to get drunk or feel any type of high , whether that be drugs or waking up next to a stranger .

she’s heavily into fashion & always posting cute outfits on instagram , something that caused her following to grow .

she’s lowkey a hopeless romantic ... seeing how her parents fell in love , but it scares tf out of her because of their ending . & she’d literally never admit this to anyone ever .

she’s a new muse & i’m still developing her but i have sm muse so i’m very excited & i rly hope you guys like her !

* 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 :

ok hello if u read that long ass messy shit ur a baddie 🖤 anyway , for wc’s , i literally have so many !! they are all listed here @karinawcs , so take a peek & if you like any of them lmk bc i have tons of headcannons / ideas for all those ! hehe ily let’s plot

#10 yrs later hfdkskf #sry this got so fkn long ...#plot w me pls 🥺🖤#wealthyhq:intro

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akkermans · 3 years

Photo

( madelyn cline / cis woman ) PHILIPPA ‘PIP’ AKKERMANS is 22 years old and is a JUNIOR at thales university. SHE is majoring in JOURNALISM and is known for being THE DESPONDENT as SHE can be CURIOUS and INSIGHTFUL as well as SELF-PUNISHING and MOODY. every time i see HER, SHE reminds me of SMOKE RISING FROM A CIGARETTE, THE CRUNCH OF LEAVES UNDERFOOT, INCOHERENT SCRIBBLINGS IN A NOTEBOOK.

hi hello hi i’m hero, i’m 22, she/they and i live in the est tz! i’m a recentish graduate who likes horror, my cat, and a damn fine cup of coffee!! i’m so excited to be here w/ pip!! if u wld like to plot, give this a like or hmu on my discord @ ‘garlic bed #3345′!!

full name: philippa ‘pip’ akkermans

birthdate: june 24, 1998

age: 22

gender: cisgender woman

pronouns: she/her

zodiac: cancer

nationality: dutch-american

ethnicity: white

hometown: utrecht, the netherlands

languages: dutch, german, english

family:

julian akkermans, father

lotte de vries, stepmother

amelia akkermans, mother (deceased)

sophie akkermans, twin sister (deceased)

orientation: bisexual biromantic

religion: atheist (formerly catholic)

height: 5 ft 6 in

distinguishing features: thin scar from crown of head to right eyebrow, eyes, lips

character inspo: theo crain, alaska young, shane and ryan from buzzfeed unsolved, camille preaker

𝐁𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐆𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃

TRIGGERS: death, car accident, alcohol and drug use, mental illness (depression, ptsd)

born in utrecht, the netherlands to a dutch father and american mother, pip akkermans’ life has been marked with tragedy since she was born. it seems to follow her. she was born five minutes before her twin sister, sophie, but as the two girls took their first breath, their mother took her last, leaving julian akkermans a single father.

growing up without a mother, pip and sophie found solace in each other, forming a bond akin to many twins, one so close, so dependent, it was like they were in their own little bubble. sophie was always the bright one, the one who walked into a room and immediately lit it up. pip was always the quieter of the two, her energy more dour, more withdrawn. but together they were a team, causing trouble left and right, getting out of it with sophie’s sweet smile.

their father was never the same after their mother died, but the coldness that possessed julian was all they’ve ever known. often times he was out of the house, unable to properly step up in the role of father to girls that were the spitting image of his lost love and the sole reason she’s gone. he drank. a lot. but he was never violent, simply sad.

he starts going out a lot, and eventually, brings home a woman that he says is going to become their step mother. a wedding quickly ensues. there’s a meanness in her, a clear disdain for the twins. but they don’t care, they don’t need to. they have each other. they’ll always have each other.

they’re fourteen and visiting amsterdam for the weekend when their car is hit head on by another, there’s enough momentum to flip them twice. the driver and pip are fine, minor injuries, but sophie passes away before anyone arrives, her hand in her sister’s as she takes her last breath.

pip is distraught, and for obvious reasons, she’s lost the better part of herself, even though she promised she wouldn’t go away. if her dad is heartbroken, he doesn’t show it. he simply continues to pull away. eventually sending pip to live with her aunt in america, rhode island to be specific.

she doesn’t exactly adjust well, not only is she still reeling from the death of her sister, but she’s experiencing intense feelings of detachment and nightmares of sophie every night, among other symptoms. her aunt eventually takes her to a psychologist, where she’s eventually diagnosed with depression and ptsd.

thus begins her long journey into managing her mental health, her aunt showing a surprising amount of support. she wishes on some level, that she had always grown up with her, that her father sent them away when they were children, maybe she wouldn’t feel so alone. maybe sophie would still be here.

for the first year in america, she doesn’t quite have friends, because she prefers her usual solitude. but eventually, she finds her group of friends, within her soccer team, her clubs, anything to get her mind off of her old life.

she tries to be normal, she really does, but she knows something is off– she feels empty, all the time, and her medication makes her feel like a zombie. eventually she falls into a crowd that is prone to partying, drinking, smoking. she’s sneaking out most nights to join them at their spot.

her senior year, she spins out, has a very public breakdown, that ends up leading to her taking a leave of absence from school, and essentially once again, returning to pariah status.

she does manage to graduate and get into thales university, by sheer force and extracurriculars, where she begins majoring in journalism, because it’s always been something she’s interested in, having been a part of her school’s newspaper before, well, everything.

she meets nana in one of their gen eds, and they hit it off immediately. they’re practically inseparable for a few years, until there’s an incident of pip being caught in a compromising position with one of nana’s flings at the time (it wasn’t what it looked like) and before she has a chance to explain, they’re no longer speaking.

nana goes missing a few weeks afterwards, and the emptiness comes back, feeling guilty as if it was her fault. as if everything that has happened has been a result of knowing pip and her general trail of misery. she was going to apologize, too. she just never got the chance.

now with the death of steven, her curiosity is piqued, her journalistic instinct triggered by the mystery afoot, and focusing on that means she doesn’t have to think about herself, because by god, she does not want to think about herself.

TL;DR: pip and her twin sister, sophie, are born in utrecht, the netherlands– their mother dies when they’re born. their father withdraws, eventually remarrying a bitter woman. when pip and sophie are 14, they’re involved in an accident that takes sophie’s life, and leaves pip alone, a bit traumatized. she moves to america to live with her maternal aunt, and goes to high school there, until she essentially has a breakdown her senior year. she meets nana her first year of thales, and they’re inseparable until a misunderstanding a month or two before she disappeared. now with steven’s death, she’s using her journalism skills to investigate it all.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘

between the melancholy is a very bright girl. she’s always been rather inquisitive and observant, the quieter one of the akkermans twins. as she grows older, learns to live without her sister, learns to live alone, she grows into her own voice. she becomes someone unafraid to speak her mind, simply because she has nothing left to lose. she’s a bit dry, a bit sarcastic, and her humor can border morbid on occasion because she’s gotta laugh or else she’ll cry. she has a bit of trouble sticking her nose in places it shouldn’t be. she’s rather loyal, but it takes a lot for her to trust you– she trusted nana, and look where that got her. that being said, she has long bouts of depression, and detachment, which she’s been trying to manage for years now, but still, in the quiet moments, there’s a feeling the girl is rather– haunted.

𝐓𝐈𝐃𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐒

she has pretty good investigative skills! she works on the newspaper at the school, so she’s kind of all over the place

explores a lot, likes to wander because it clears her head, though it also means she’ll probably enter places she’s not usually allowed (i.e. abandoned buildings, etc.)

also a soccer player! she’s played soccer for a good amount of her life, except her senior year of high school when she withdrew, she’s debating quitting the team here though

has a slight dutch accent, it’s noticeable mostly on specific words

disaster bi….. disaster bisexual…. usually stumbles into relationships and they never last due to her own shortcomings

can’t drive fr shit never learned how, fr some… obvious reasons, has some anxiety getting

has a few tattoos! her first and favorite was two butterflies on her wrist for sophie

has two piercings in each ear, a daith piercing in her right, and a upper cartilege piercing on her left

doesn’t really talk about her sister, however, claims she sees her/feels her sometimes

a skeptical believer of ghosts and spirits, mostly likes the stories that comes with her

speaks to her father once every two years, their relationship is nonexistent

likes to have a beer every so often but doesn’t exactly party, if u do see her at parties she’s prob lounging on a couch chatting with someone who’s name she’ll never remember

lived on campus for the first two years but this year got her own apartment, has an esa, a two year old scottish fold named noodle

has an extensive collection of sweaters and cardigans

kind of an old lady……. just learning about tiktok now

𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒

partner in crime – the ryan to her shane, the trixie to her katya, maybe they’re not the best of friends but they get into a LOT of trouble together

the reason nana and her stopped talking – pretty much nana walked in on a situation and misread it entirely and her drama loving ass cut pip off until her disappearance

friends

former friends – pip pulls away a lot, she is the undoer in a lot of relationships… or maybe it was your muse….

roommates (2-3) – new girl-esque shenanigans to be had!

newspaper coworkers

soccer teammates

someone she’s been helping with a case

fwb (f/m/nb) – girl has got needs, and doesn’t always like to be alone so

exes (f/m/nb) – prob broke up because pip’s inability to ever truly connect to other’s… haha! or it could be on good terms, and they’re pals now

crush (f/m/nb) – either way, reciprocated or unreciprocated, but it’s weird and you’re both kinda hot?

people she has Hooked Up w/ and now it’s awkard (f/m/nb)

rivals, but are we?

only likes her because her cat – noodle rights, babey!

‘she accidentally stole your coffee order once, but hey, she’s pretty cool’ – prob bought u a new one after she drank a bit of it…. now you see each other around fondly

‘she stuck her nose in your business for the Scoop’

hate-to-love friendship – i want to k*ll you to hey you’re pretty alright but don’t tell anybody i said that

‘you sent her an anonymous tip, but she accidentally figured out it was you’

someone who gets her out of her shell – takes her to parties! out with friends!

anything in my wanted tag!

#pyrrhic.intro #intro.#death tw #car accident tw #alcohol use tw #drug use tw #ptsd tw #depression tw #blood tw #only because the watercolor on the graphic does look a lil like it

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doing-all-write · 4 years

Text

three things

After moving in together, Reader and Ben host their first Friendsgiving together and have to come up with three things they’re grateful for.

Pairing: Ben Hardy x Reader

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Mentions of sex and shenanigans so cute they’ll rot your teeth

This is a continuation of lighthouse !

A/N: Happy Thanksgiving to everyone who celebrates it today! Here’s a little something that @itsabenthing helped give me inspo to bring to life and I gotta say, I love these two idiots and their dumb relationship more than most things in my life. I hope you all love it!!

💖💖💖As always, likes, reblogs and comments are always welcome 💖💖💖

"Cranberries?"

"Regular and the nasty canned shit."

"Ignoring that hearsay...corn bread?"

Rustling was heard as her eyes scanned the list she held in her hand. Mentally ticking things off when suddenly the corner of a box of cornbread appeared in her peripheries as Ben painstakingly edged it closer into her line of sight.

"The lady wants cornbread and THEREFORE, cornbread she shall have."

Fighting a smile, she pursed her lips as Ben proudly withdrew it from her line of sight and placed it back into their grocery cart.

They had been living together for a few months now and had quickly settled into a routine. Most days she'd kick the door open, heels thumping against the closet floor as she toed them off. The smell of whatever Ben was cooking, wafted down the hall to meet her nose. Flipping through the mail she picked up on her way in, she'd pad down the hallway, humming whatever song she had been listening to in her car before coming inside.

Popping herself up on the counter she would word vomit about her day as Ben stirred, chopped and let her taste test what he was making. Making encouraging noises and occasionally interjecting at opportune times. ("No, Karen does need to calm down. I mean, it's an Instagram post, it's not the end of the world. I barely use mine and I'm doing just fine." "Yeah, but we're not all hot, blonde Hollywood stars." "You think I'm hot?" "Smoking, just like whatever is cooking in the oven." "SHIT.")

They'd end the day with whatever show they had been watching together on Netflix (Recently it was Riverdale. She loved it because she read the comics growing up. Ben loved it because it was so over the top. And he had a soft spot for Bughead.), then get ready for bed together and fall asleep in each others arms.

It was so disgustingly domestic and simple, half the time she found herself looking at Ben and asking him, "Is this it? Like, this is all we do? We hang out?"

Chuckling, he'd pull her closer, "It sure is, love."

She'd sigh contentedly, and nuzzle closer to him, happy with how quickly their lives had merged together.

Not every day was so peaceful. There was the one time she left their back window open and a bat had flown into the apartment. There was 30 minutes of chaos as Ben bellowed at her for leaving the window open and she locked herself in the bedroom threatening to divorce him if he didn't get rid of the bat NOW despite his protests that they weren't even married.

Or the day when they had sat down and hashed out which chores they hated (she: cooking, cleaning bathrooms and dusting. Ben: sweeping, doing dishes and taking out the trash. The payoff though was that whenever she took out the trash she'd gleefully tell Ben to step into the trash can as well. Only after he locked her out of their bedroom had she stopped) and would take over to prevent the other from having to do it.

Some nights she'd be out with friends, or at a late work event or need to run some errands only to come home to Ben air drumming along to a Queen album he had popped on the record player.

Other days she would be left to her own devices and would wake up in the tub, the bath bomb she had used a distant memory, with Ben standing over her, telling her how she can't fall asleep in the tub while he's gone because what if she drowns?

They were most thankful for each other when they had had long, difficult days. Trudging home from a work day full of bullshit meetings, last minute deadlines and unhelpful co-workers, with only one call to Ben to have a brief meltdown, she'd open the door to find him wearing nothing but an apron with her favorite dinner on the table.

(Frozen Chinese food from their local grocery store and "is that...White Claw...in our wine glasses?" "It sure is, love. We're real classy bitches now.")

When Ben was gone filming for long periods of time, she would FaceTime him as she cooked, or did laundry, or other normal things around the house just so he could feel like he was part of her day to day routine.

(The first time they had done that he'd remarked, "It's like a baby cam."

She scoffed, "Well, yeah. Kind of. I mean, I am baby."

"You're my baby."

"Shut the fuck up Hardy, you can't be that cute when you're that far away from me.")

When he finally would get home, disentangling himself from the Lyft, body screaming for rest after having been put through the wringer with training and long days and nights of filming, the only thing that'd keep him upright was her. She would barrel out of their apartment to meet him in the landing. He'd barely have time to drop his bags as she flung herself into his arms, peppering each others faces with kisses as he promised over and over again he would take her with him next time he left so they never had to be apart for so long.

They'd even had a couple of parties together. A low-key house-warming when Ben moved in and a Halloween party. She had dressed up as Sabrina from The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina and had talked Ben into being her Harvey. Though he got to wear what he normally did, he complained the whole time. She was sympathetic but right before they opened the door to let their friends in, she had stuck devil horns on his head that he didn't have time to rip off.

(After everyone had left, he had made her wear those as he fucked her senseless. She hated to admit it but it was incredibly hot.)

The Halloween party was such a hit, their friends had talked them into hosting Friendsgving as well. Hence, the run to the grocery store where she had printed out the Excel spreadsheet clutched in her hand to help keep track of what was needed for each dish.

Ben had taken one look at the spreadsheet, took her hands in his, and in the most loving way possible, explained that this seemed like a bit much for a party and he was worried that, day of, she'd be so stressed, he'd have to talk her down from stuffing her head in the oven alongside the turkey.

Now, she felt something move across the nape of her neck, she flinched, looking around only to be met with Ben's wide eyes staring at her, feigning ignorance as he paused mid-inhale, getting ready to blow on her neck a second time.

The smile he shot her made her knees weak and she rolled her eyes, muttering about what a pain in the ass he was as she pushed the cart farther away from him.

His hands came down beside hers on the rail as his lips pressed into her hair, "Get in"

"What? Get in where?"

"Where do you think? Get in the cart, I'll push you around."

She scoffed, "Ben, we're adults. We're hosting a dinner party we bought the $5 bottles of red wine instead of the $3 ones. There is no way in hell I'm going to let you-"

"C'mon, love. The old you would have done it."

Before Ben had even said the last word, she was hauling herself up into the cart, pushing food out of the way and tucking her legs underneath herself, mumbling all the while about how unfair it was that that always worked on her.

Ben chuckled as he waited for her to get settled, once she nodded at him, he started walking down the aisles, leaning his forearms on the rail, giving her an up close view to the sinews and muscles flexing as he meandered down the aisles.

"You keep staring like that, people are gonna ask you to keep it in your pants."

"How can I? I mean, Christ Benny, your forearms are enough to make me cum right now."

He made a retching noise, "Please, for the love of god do not cum all over the potatoes. They're right in your lap, we have to feed those to people-"

A laugh came ringing out of her mouth like a bell, "These mashed potatoes seem extra creamy, whatever did you do to them?" she affected a high pitched voice and waggled her eyebrows.

"That's it, we're done. I'm leaving you in this cart." He threw up his hands, walking backwards as her eyes grew wide,

"Ben, please do not leave me here alone in this cart like a big dumb baby. Please. It was a joke."

Ben came back with a sigh, "You do look like a baby. Like when you wear your romper to work."

That comment was met with an accusing finger, "HEY. That romper is professional and stylish and also gives a whole new meaning to being naked and afraid in bathrooms."

"I understand wearing it to work but I just don't get why you would wear that out. Waiting for you to come out of the bathroom at the bar," he sighed, "felt like I was standing there for an hour."

"It was like 10 minutes tops. Grow up."

He rolled his eyes and shoved the cart away from him, quickly bringing it right back, causing her to screech and grasp the sides with white knuckles.

"Jones!"

He chuckled as he swung them around to the next aisle, "I've got you, love. Now, what do we need down this aisle?"

Her head swung side to side as she examined the goods. She pointed to a package of spices, that Ben grabbed and tried to shoot into the cart, missing by a mile. She eventually circled her arms so he could try and shoot every new food item they picked up into the makeshift basket. (She drew the line at the eggs.) As they roamed the aisles, she slowly became more and more buried until food reached up to her shoulders.

As Ben debated between getting regular sized versus mini marshmallows for the sweet potato casserole, she asked, "What are the three things you're grateful for today?"

They had started this soon after Ben had moved in. He'd wake up in the morning to find her writing in a notebook, after observing her doing this for a couple weeks, he got the courage to ask her what she was writing about. She explained that every day, she wrote down three things she was grateful for. Didn't matter how big or small it was. Just three things that she was grateful to have in her life.

He teased her mercilessly about how he had better be on that list every damn day but when they were laying in bed that night, she asked him and it became a habit. Crawling into bed together, they would exchange what three things they were most grateful for in that day.

Furrowing his brow as he shot the mini marshmallows, he threw his hands in the air when he made it in and announced, "I'm grateful I made that shot."

After checking out, in which Ben insisted that she stay in the cart while he did so, causing the cashier to give them strange looks but ultimately giving her a sticker that they usually only reserved for children, which Ben gleefully stuck to her forehead, he rolled her out to her car where she popped the trunk.

Loading the bags in, Ben clambered in to her front seat, pushing the chair all the way back.

"It's like living with a midget."

"You are BARELY 5' 10" my man, do not be speaking ill of my height right now."

Driving back it was quiet except for the soft sounds of Bruce Springsteen playing over the speakers. Reaching over, Ben grabbed the hand that had been resting on her thigh. She glanced over, smiling, as she looked at her boyfriend, felt his thumb rubbing back and forth over the back of her hand.

She whispered, "I'm grateful for us."

~~~

Friendsgiving had been a massive success. Before, the apartment had been a madhouse. The kitchen looked like the end of a Great British Bake Off episode, complete with Ben doing his best Paul Hollywood impression ("You keep that shit up Jones and I will give you food poisoning on purpose.")

But the food had turned out well (Ben silently gave her a thumbs up when 15 minutes had passed after everyone was done eating and no one had thrown up), everyone left with a plate of leftovers and promises to get together soon and now the apartment felt strangely still. The only hint that it had been filled with people was the pile of dishes in the sink.

They fell into an easy rhythm, her washing, he drying. The jazz they had queued up for dinner still playing, adding an air of domesticity to the whole affair. The pine candle she had lit after they had eaten, signaling to everyone the holiday season had truly started, sputtered as it gave off its last few whiffs then burnt out.

As she placed the last plates back into the cabinet, Ben refilled their wine glasses, leaving them on the counter as he disappeared into the bedroom.

Turning around she was met with Ben in his favorite hoodie, the collar sinking down to reveal his collarbone, meaning he wasn't wearing a shirt underneath it and gray sweatpants, which she cocked an eyebrow at.

"You told me about the memes, I'm just trying to satisfy all your fantasies." he joked as he held out a second pair of sweatpants to her. She giggled as she shimmed out of her tights right there in the kitchen, pulling the sweatpants on underneath her dress. Ben swatted at her butt as she walked past him to grab a shirt from the bedroom. Once she ambled out, pulling her hair up into a ponytail, she was greeted by Ben, laid out on their couch, wine glasses on the table in front of him and the largest rectangular box she had ever seen in her life.

Ben notoriously had weird taste in art and the skepticism must have shown on her face because Ben rolled his eyes, "It's not art. Don't worry. I learned my lesson when you ripped me a new one telling me that Andy Warhol isn't a real artist."

"Well you only have to make that mistake once with me." she conceded as she crept towards the box. "Is this, for me?"

Ben nodded, shifting, rubbing his hands down his thighs, then through his hair, a classic sign he was nervous.

Smiling, she knelt down in front of it, running her nails down the edges she ripped the tape off.

"Ya know, I have a pocket knife. It's easier."

"Yeah but these bad boys are like built in pocket knives."

"Okay Wolverine."

Flipping him off, she opened the top of the box. Ben watched bemusedly as she struggled to wrestle the object out. Letting her struggle for only a few seconds before he got up and grabbed on to the end of the box she pulled her gift out.

Almost dropping it she gasped, "Ben, what the hell is this? What did you do?" He laughed as he smugly took a sip of wine, "Take off that bubble wrap and find out, love."

Staring at him, she ripped open the bubble wrap. First exposing the dark mahogany frame, then the white border, then..."Oh my god. Ben. Sweetheart. Is this...?"

He just tipped his head, making a get on with it gesture as, hands trembling, she ripped off the rest of the bubble wrap.

Exposing the puzzle they had done together the day she had asked him to move in with her, matted and framed.

Bringing a hand up to cover her mouth, she felt how wet her cheeks were. She sank back on her heels, laying the frame down in front of her as she leaned over it. Ben was by her side in a second, arms around her, pressing kisses into her hair.

She couldn't believe it. Her heart felt like it was going to break from how much love she felt for Ben in that moment, "This is the best piece of art you've ever gotten."

"Nah, I'd say you were the best piece of art I've ever gotten."

"Oh god." She wailed as a fresh wave of tears came flooding out of her, making him laugh as his own eyes got watery, tightening his grip on her.

Once the tears had stopped, she lifted her head, sniffling to look at the puzzle again. She squinted her eyes, "Ben."

"Yes?"

"Is...is there a piece missing from this?"

He chuckled as he fished in his pocket for a second box, "There is. But for good reason."

Hands shaking like a leaf, she pried the box open only to reveal the piece of the puzzle she had stepped on the morning after she asked him to move in, winking up at her on a gold chain. She dropped it immediately as she threw herself into Ben's arms, tackling him to the ground.

For several moments it was just the sound of her crying, him telling her to stop crying because it was making him cry, them kissing each other and exchanging promises of love and exclamations about how amazing the other was.

After collecting herself and wiping her eyes, she held out her wrist, "Well? Put it on me you idiot."

He laughed, wiping his own eyes with his hoodie sleeve, fingers shaking as he clasped the bracelet onto her wrist.

They stared down at it until Ben kissed the palm of her hand and brought it up to his face.

Staring at each other, lost in the other's eyes, Ben said, "You know how at dinner you had everyone say three things they were grateful for?" She nodded, feeling a new batch of tears making their debut, "Obviously I said you but, love, you are always the top three things I'm most grateful for everyday. Every day I look at you and find something else about you that I'm grateful for. And I hope I get to keep doing that for however long you can stand to be around me." She giggled through her tears, nodding vigorously as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck.

She felt him take a steadying breath in as he squeezed her tighter into his embrace, "You're always what I'm most grateful for. And I will never stop being grateful for having you in my life. I love you so much it makes my heart ache sometimes."

Nodding furiously, voice wavery and thick from her tears, she said, "Everyday when I write my list, you always make the number one spot. No matter if you had yelled at me about letting a bat into our apartment the night before," He squeezed her tighter, laughing through his own tears, "This is just about the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me, so, yeah, Jones. You made me the happiest girl alive when you agreed to be my boyfriend and every day since then. I look at you every day and wonder how in the world I got so lucky but grateful that you're in my life. You're the love of my life."

Beaming, he pulled back only to place a deep kiss on her lips. Clutching his shoulders, they held each other there for a few long seconds, finally breaking apart to breath each other in.

Breaking the silence, she asked the age old question, "Where are we going to hang this?"

"I was thinking over our bed."

"Perfect. Just perfect."

That night, as they fell asleep, they had murmured what three things they were each grateful for. It came as no surprise to either of them that their three things they were most grateful for were each other.

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supercantaloupe · 3 years

Note

ooh, director's commentary for 25th Annual Solesian National Spelling Bee?

trying to get me to reveal secrets about upcoming chapters, perhaps? ;P /lh

well, regarding what i’ve already posted, i guess i should talk about my inspo for writing this one. definitely takes a lot of inspiration from the musical the 25th Annual Putnam County Spelling Bee, though it doesn’t really follow the same plot at all. i grew up as a really busy kid in high school, the honors student in a ton of extracurriculars who grew up the younger sister of another very busy and accomplished sibling in a relatively small scholastic community, so i’ve always seen a bit of myself in the abernant sisters and wanted to explore that in writing (especially focused on aelwyn’s perspective, which is not as close to my own). also it’s kind of a fun excuse to re-explore a lot of the memories of the shit i did in high school. academic competitions like mathletes. ap tests. chem day expos. music festivals. not just the actual events themselves either but the downtime: riding the bus early morning and late night to and from events, chatting with friends or napping or studying; trying to keep calm and not stress out in between events or tests or awards or performances; interacting with other students from other schools in both friendly and competitive contexts; etc. etc. in a way it’s a love letter to my self left behind after graduation, if you’ll excuse my waxing sappy about a fanfiction.

i did very much set out for this fic to explore aelwyn’s developing relationships with each of the bad kids and with others as this new version of herself who still has a tangible and unpleasant lingering legacy. i think the inhabitants of the manor are the quickest to warm to her -- being around her and adaine the most helps, which is why i think fig and kristen are the warmest and most empathetic/able to read her, especially in chapters 2 and 14. gorgug seems like a forgiving sweetheart to me so i didn’t think he’d hold much of a grudge against her, and anyway does not have the patience for people being assholes to his friends (or their friends). fabian and aelwyn have a...funny sort of relationship, joking and charged and very very awkward which i definitely tried to capture in their interactions. and i thought riz would have the most reservations about trusting aelwyn, which is why i gave them some very tense interactions, as well as resolving them in silence through a game of chess: they’re both deeply traumatized and not so open to trusting people quickly, but they’re also both smart and recognize that in each other, and respect that. plus, they’re both calculating and strategically-minded, so working through whatever tension that exists between them through a game liked chess felt like a very fitting way to explore the beginning of their relationship (and i do think, eventually, they’ll become really good friends). and finally i think adaine and aelwyn theselves have a complicated relationship: they’re both deeply invested in being better sisters to each other, but that doesn’t mean they’re going to just immediately get along perfectly well as soon as spring break is over; they’re both very stubborn, traumatized people with strong, sometimes opposed personalities. yet even if they continue to butt heads from time to time, they can still love and care for and support and lean on each other for help. the road to recovery and growth is not a straight path and it’s not an easy one, but they’re all still making progress.

i had to make up a lot of new characters for this one too because i really wanted to explore aelwyn’s relationship to her past as a hudol student. i think she was a champion at this kind of event in her own past, and in a similar way that me writing this is an exploration of my own experience, her being back at the Bee is her walking through and literally confronting the person she used to be. her name on the trophies. her old teachers. her old classmates. (even if you didn’t dramatically drop out of school in disgrace after being busted for running a massive, world-threanening conspiracy, how many people in your high school do you really ever want to interact with in the slightest once you graduate/d? for me it’s like two people, tops.) and i certainly hope i’ve been (and/or will continue to be) successful at using those invented new characters effectively, but i suppose you’d have to tell me if that’s the case or not :P

anyway! you can check out the fic here, and i do hope to update this soon once i get some other projects out of the way first!

[ask meme]

#this turned out loooooong i hope u enjoy it sola lmao #sasha answers #ask meme #thats-the-moon-grey #let the poet bless this round

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ofcecilia · 4 years

Photo

⌠ DAISY EDGAR-JONES, 20, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER ⌡ welcome back to gallagher academy, CECILIA CASIRAGHI! according to their records, they’re a FIRST year, specializing in SEDUCTION & FLIRTATION + LINGUISTICS, CULTURE & ASSIMILATION; and they DID NOT go to a spy prep high school. when i see them walking around in the halls, i usually see a flash of (pink satin sheets, the warm glow of a sunrise, the first pour of a bottle of red wine, unflinching doe eyes). when it’s the (capricorn)’s birthday on 1/13/01, they always request CANNOLIS from the school’s chefs. looks like they’re well on their way to graduation. ⌿ deanna, 25, she/her, est ⍀

NAME: Cecilia Anastasia Casiraghi

KNOWN AS: Cecilia, Celia, Cissy

BIRTHDATE: January 13, 2001

ASTROLOGY: Capricorn sun / Virgo moon / Pisces rising

HOMETOWN: Tuscania, Italy

RESIDENCE: London, England

GENDER: Cis female ( she/her )

SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bisexual

HEIGHT: 5'7"

HAIR COLOR: Dark Brown

EYE COLOR: Dark Brown

TATTOOS: None

KNOWN LANGUAGES: English, Italian, Russian, French, Spanish

IMMEDIATE FAMILY:

Allegra Casiraghi: Mother, currently in jail

Federico Casiraghi: Father, currently in jail

Salvatore Casiraghi: Eldest brother

Niccolo Casiraghi: Second eldest brother

Anya Casiraghi: Elder sister

ABOUT:

Born Cecilia Anastasia Casiraghi, the baby of the Casiraghi family. You know them and you hate them, real asshat parents who value money and prestige over actually being nice to their kids. It's hard not to grow up despising your parents in that setting, though Cecilia would be lying if she said she didn't enjoy the being rich part of it all. Still, it wasn't worth the pressure and scrutiny she received from her parents.

She grew up in a giant castle in Italy where she liked to pretend she was a princess trapped in the highest tower waiting to be rescued. Cecilia watched her older siblings seem so put together and polished, exactly what their parents wanted them to be, and couldn't help but feel isolated from the rest of her family ( though her older brother Nico was her fave ) . The older she got, the longer she waited for things to snap into place, only to be met with disappointment.

She got more rebellious as she got older, which didn't bode well in the Casiraghi household. Her father tried to break her spirit, which in turn only made her angier, causing her to run away when she was sixteen. She didn't leave so much of a note to her family, but she knew if they wanted to find her, they'd have the resources to do so. They didn't.

She struggled once moving to London, because a rich girl isn't exactly great at not being rich, but she had been saving up stolen money from her parents for a few months before leaving, so she had enough to find herself a place to live while she worked odd jobs here and there. She wanted to focus on art, her passion, the one thing her family had always told her she was good at ( though they also said it wasn't practical ) . But, surprise surprise, art is NOT practical, and nobody wanted to buy paintings from an actual nobody.

The story goes that she struggled for about a year before making connections with a local art gallery to hold a week-long exhibit of her work. There she made a few sales on her art, though the most noteworthy one had been selling a self-portrait to a wealthy older man who took a liking to Cecilia and decided to fund her art career, and her lifestyle. From then on she lived the glamorous city life she had been destined for, only realizing recently that art and partying can only get her so far. She had begun to miss the world she had been born into, even if she didn't miss the family that came with it. So Celia reached out to a few old contacts, and was able to secure herself a spot at Gallagher Academy in the fall. Despite the drama of her parents being arrested for tax evasion and fraud, she found that the name Casiraghi still holds some weight in the spy world.

WARNING: TOP SECRET INFORMATION

The reality of the situation is that even with the money Celia had stolen from her parents, her life was nowhere close to the one she used to live, and being poor kind of got old. Plus she still had this BURNING anger towards her parents, partly for letting her leave so easily.

She had been living on her own for almost a year, and what little money she had left was slowly depleting. She had been one level above rock bottom when a faculty member of Caledonia Institute found her. Though she had no interest in returning to the spy world, they had fed into her ego that her being a part of their team was IMPERATIVE, and in return they would give her back the life she once had, while making her parents suffer. How could she say no to that?

At only seventeen she was one of the youngest to enroll in Caledonia, and she became a professional spy in the process. She'd have to sit through two years of training and schooling before getting an active mission, but training at Caledonia -- while strict -- was unlike the harsh treatments she was used to from training with her family. With a new outlook on the spy world, Cecilia began to enjoy it once more, and it helped that she was good at it.

Mr. Stewart of Caledonia had promised her that her parents would pay for their sins, and in the spring he had upheld his end of the bargain. Her parents were caught and tried for tax evasion and fraud, and she heard through the grapevine that they'll be going to jail for a long time. Though she wasn't sure what this means for her siblings, Celia was just glad karma finally bit them in the ass.

Conveniently after they're arrested, Mr. Stewart gave Cecilia an assignment for the fall : everyone knows about Cole Conner's Gallagher Academy assignment from last fall, and how he's garnered less-than-stellar results. So she’s been enrolled as an incoming first year, returning to the spy world with a story weaved of her glamorous life in London, ready to pay off her debts to Caledonia without hesitation.

PERSONALITY:

Celia is a total chameleon, able to morph her image and personality when needed in social situations. It's how she makes herself easily likable and gets people to let her in easily, though her doe eyes certainly don't hurt. She makes it easy for people to get wrapped up in her storytelling and the lies she spins for the sake of getting on other's good sides. Not only is she good at it, but she gets off on the thrill of it, because it's fun pretending to be someone you're not ! Whatever you want her to be, she can be it.

Underneath the surface, Cecilia is truly a spoiled brat who likes getting her way and winning, and once in a while parts of that haughtiness will break through the cracks of her facade. Caledonia had worked hard to take the rebel out of the girl, but parts of it still appear on occasion, though never against her agency.

Above everything, she's trying not to make waves while in Gallagher, to go by undetected, so the easiest way to describe her would be Nice. ( This might change while I play her so we’ll see welp. )

TL;DR: She's Nico's younger sister ! But ran away from her family when she was sixteen because she hates them, and at her lowest point Caledonia Institute swooped in and saved her ( and also got her parents arrested and made them lose their money whomp whomp ) and now she's a double agent working for them. She’s looking to make friends with everyone who’s anyone at Gallagher. Two-faced bitch but ya gotta love her ? Or don't, you probably shouldn't.

WANTED CONNECTIONS:

She’s going to be meticulously crafting her own inner circle of friends for her own enjoyment at Gallagher, a mix of people from influential families and those who are deemed “popular” or worth having around, please send headshots and a resume if ur interested xoxo

Family friends of the Casiraghi family, who she hasn’t seen in at least three years.

Other students who trained with her siblings in the super super exclusive training program her parents ran.

Those she's crossed paths with living in London for a year: friends, flings, fellow artists, coworkers at her crappy jobs, etc.

Fellow first years she can glom onto for automatic friendships right off the bat, regardless of who they are

Legacy family students she can cozy up to for the sake of her job

Someone who is reluctant to trust her, despite her attempts to befriend them/get on their good side

Someone with a crush on her that can sorta see how malleable her personality and is like? But show me the real you?

A no-strings relationship that’s purely physical

Someone she’s stringing along for the sake of getting close and getting information out of them

An upperclassman mentor figure to show her the ropes of Gallagher and help her acclimate

A ride or die that she feels a kinship with, where they click enough that she can be more like herself ( aka a little bitchy )

Someone with a really optimistic/romantic outlook on life that truly tests Cecilia’s efforts to match their enthusiasm

Fellow artists she can spend her free time painting in the gardens with and help her get back into it

Fellow LCA + S&F majors who she’ll either have in her classes or that can give her some class pointers or offer their old notes to her

Someone she got drunk with and maybe let something slip that she shouldn’t have and now it’s awk

Someone weak-willed that she can easily take advantage of/manipulate into doing things for her

Fellow smokers even though I don’t condone the habit!

I have some things on her pinterest page here for inspo, also this tag

Lit rally anything please hmu !

#gallagher:intro #sorry this is the worlds longest intro #there's a tl;dr at the end that's worth it i promise #leaving this here xx

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ruffboijuliaburnsides · 4 years

Text

voiceless jaskier au (pt 8)

A full chapter today! Gasp shock awe. This means AO3 has also been updated, if that’s your location of choice to read this :)

Thank you all for reading, and for @humbled-bard specifically bc I got a little inspo boost after seeing the nice thing they said in their reblog tags ^_^ (seriously y’all comments are WRITER FUEL, validation is the good shit that makes us go.)

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 9) (Part 10) Now on AO3!

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

Mahakam's capital was loud.

It was to be expected, obviously, Jaskier knew that. Geralt had explained, in bits here and there, why exactly they had such a robust signal language. The foundries and bells in Mount Carbon alone had cost a number of workers their hearing, so in turn they'd taken the idea of hand signals and turned it into what was, essentially, a complete language. And that's what he and Geralt were, hopefully, going to learn, so that he could have his words back, if not his music. Jaskier found himself thinking of it more as something to look forward to as time went on, because he had so many. He had stretches when they all choked him trying to escaped or disappeared entirely, and he retreated to foggy drifting or lost an hour or so, staring at nothing while still apparently doing things, but they were coming less often, for less time. Which was good, because Geralt was always frowning and sad when he came back.

Geralt had stopped, the day they finally got to the capital, and put wax in his ears, and Jaskier'd wondered about it right up until they finally actually reached the bridge to the city.

It was so loud even to him, even echoing out the gate and across the Langbridge, that there was no way in hell Geralt would've been able to function, with his witcher senses.

The guards at the gate were suspicious, heavily-armored dwarves who did not look particularly like they'd let them in without a damn good reason and possibly a bribe. Mahakam held her secrets close to the chest, it was how they'd managed to keep such a tight hold on their domination of the iron and steel industries, nevermind weaponsmithing, but it meant that it was extremely difficult to gain access as an outsider, especially for a long-term stay. They'd only managed to get through to even reach Mount Carbon because of Geralt being a witcher, most likely, which didn't bode well for actually getting what they were hoping.

Jaskier hoped Geralt would be able to charm the guards, since the biggest contribution he could hope to provide was a smile that he was pretty confident he couldn't quite get past "crooked and nervous". It really didn't help that Geralt had that "getting ready to argue with someone who doesn't want to pay him" look on his face (and really it infuriated Jaskier, in the back of his mind, that he'd seen that face often enough to recognize it), and now Jaskier was imagining being turned away and refused the opportunity to learn how to let his words out and he couldn't make himself keep walking, and he couldn't breathe--

There was a sudden heavy weight on his shoulder and he startled out of his spiral to find Geralt's hand on his shoulder, squeezing lightly. "It'll be fine," Geralt rumbled, and Jaskier was rather sure for a moment that it was less a promise and more of a threat. Not to him, but to... the guards, Mahakam, the universe at large; Jaskier wasn't sure, but it was reassuring anyway.

Geralt didn't make threats lightly. Not real ones, anyway.

Jaskier managed to find a smile in him, shaky but sincere, and nodded in response, which made something soften fleetingly in Geralt's eyes. He released Jaskier's shoulder and strode forward, leading Roach, Jaskier hanging back a few steps fidgeting with the hem of his doublet and tapping his fingertips against his thumbs to try to get out a little of his excess energy. This is exactly why he'd left his tablets in the saddlebags as they approached - with this level of nervous energy, it probably would've gone flying, and then where would he be?

"On official business?" one of the dwarves asked gruffly as Geralt approached. "Don't remember hearing anyone put out a contract."

"Personal business, actually," Geralt said, coming obligingly to a halt just shy of being threatening. "Had a friend get hit with a curse that's left him mute." he gestured behind him, and Jaskier obligingly waved and tried to smile charmingly. Nope, he could already tell, it was more of that kind of half-sick smile when you're hungover and might vomit and are trying your best not to. Well, he'd tried. Maybe the clear discomfort and nerves would work in their advantage.

It didn't appear to be, however, given the way the guard's eyes narrowed looking at him. "And how's that led you here?" The guard asked Geralt after looking Jaskier over.

"Did a job here a few decades back," Geralt said. "Saw the hand signs some of the deaf folks use. Someone told me it's basically a full language."

The guard only raises an eyebrow, not making any move to give them access to the city. Geralt sighed, frustrated, and made a face that Jaskier knew meant he wanted to pinch the bridge of his knows. It probably didn't help that the sounds were almost certainly piercing even through the wax stoppering his ears.

"Listen," Geralt growled, clearly close to losing his temper, and Jaskier impulsively stepped forward and grabbed his elbow. Geralt looked down at him, startled, and Jaskier smiled encouragingly (crooked and scared, but encouraging). Geralt took a deep breath and turned back to the guard, who seemed to be watching their little interaction with slightly less immediate distrust. "Listen," Geralt repeated, but as a proper word, and not just a shape of snarling. "He's a storyteller. A bard. And he had his voice taken. He needs to be able to communicate. And I need to be able to understand."

It warmed Jaskier's heart a tiny bit, to hear him say that. It's not that he hadn't already known that was the plan - learn this and then go on the road together, because using hand signs wouldn't mean much of anything if there wasn't someone who understood them. Still. Hearing Geralt say he needed to be able to understand Jaskier felt good, even if it wasn't the same kind of need Jaskier wanted it to be.

The guard looked between them for a long moment, then nodded. "You'll have to go speak to the Elder," the guard said. "Make your case." He gestured to two of the other guards, who stepped forward. "They'll take you. Don't stray, witcher." Jaskier started to step forward, before Geralt even could, and the guard cleared his throat. Jaskier stopped, uncertainly flicking his gaze from the guard to Geralt.

Geralt growled, low and soft. "Just me," he said, not even really a question. The guard nodded confirmation that Geralt clearly hadn't needed, and Jaskier felt a sharp spike of panic returning. Geralt turned to Jaskier and held out the reins, which Jaskier took on instinct. "Stay with Roach," he said, clearly irritated. "I won't be long."

But he didn't turn away just yet, eyes scanning Jaskier's face, and then he let out a sharp breath. "Jaskier," he said, his voice suddenly so much softer even though the tight lines of anger still shaped the way he held himself. It helped, to hold on to his name shaped like that from Geralt's mouth, and Jaskier took a deep breath to try to steady himself. "Stay with Roach," he repeated, firm but still so painfully soft in a way that Jaskier couldn't let himself think about. Jaskier nodded, and pressed a hand to Roach's neck to ground himself in the warmth and movement of muscles under her skin.

"Sir witcher!" one of the guards snapped, clearly getting impatient. Geralt grimaced, but still stayed focused on Jaskier.

"Do you need to say anything before I go?" he asked seriously, and Jaskier felt like he had a bonfire in his chest from the question, so pointedly and deliberately in contrast to the last time they'd separated. Jaskier shook his head, then made a shooing motion to get Geralt moving.

He thought, maybe, he caught the ghost of a smile on Geralt's face as he turned to go.

Jaskier turned, before he was out of sight, to press his head to Roach's shoulder, letting her mane tickle at his nose when she turned back to lip at his shirt, looking for the little treats he'd taken to carrying as a way to befriend the particular mare. They were friends now, which he wasn't sure if Geralt liked or not, but he still kept sugar cubes or bits of carrot or apple slices on him a lot. Not today, he wanted to say to her. I'm such an idiot for falling for your master, also. I don't know if my heart can handle much more kindness from him, to finish

"Just a precaution," the guard Geralt had spoken with said after Geralt and his chaperones had disappeared out of sight into the mountain, and Jaskier was unprepared to process anyone else speaking.

He frowned slightly and tilted his head at the guard as he pulled his forehead from where he'd rested it on Roach. Should he get his tablet, he wondered, or was that clear enough for people who didn't know him? What did that mean? Were they about to shackle him or something?

"Outsiders who haven't been invited," the guard clarified, his tone more conversational than he'd been with Geralt. "One of the party can, with good reason, make their case to the Elder to be granted leave to stay, either in the city itself or in Mahakam in general. Be a bit difficult for you or the horse to make it, so..."

Realization hit him like a wave of warm relief, pouring down his head and shoulders, and he sagged a bit with it. The guard was trying to be reassuring, had seen Jaskier's stress at being separated from Geralt in such an uncertain situation. And Geralt was fine, because it was normal to send people in alone to see their Elder, to help keep their secrets. He flashed a grateful smile to the guard, then glanced around for an out-of-the-way place to wait for Geralt to get back.

There really wasn't one, since the gates were at the end of a long stone bridge, and Roach could probably stand to have a little time to graze. Jaskier waved a little to get the guard's attention, though he didn't seem to need to, as the guard was attentive as soon as he'd turned back to them. He wasn't sure if it was him doing his job or him trying to make things easier for Jaskier. Jaskier gestured to himself and Roach, then pointed back down the bridge, then mimed... well, sleeping, even if he meant rest.

"Should be safe enough for you and the horse to be out there," the guard said, nodding. "We've patrols that'll come by fairly regular. I'll let your witcher know you're out there, when he comes back out."

Jaskier nodded gratefully, waved again, and started to walk Roach back across the bridge, trying not to feel a thrum of pleasure at hearing Geralt described as his witcher.

The grass was sparse, when they got to the area past the bridge, but Roach seemed happy enough with it. Jaskier knew she was well-behaved but tied her reins to a low tree branch anyway, just in case. The view was beautiful, mountains and distant mines and the faint echo of the foundries barely reaching him on the wind.

It was so silent that each noise there was felt amplified, the soft creak of Roach's saddle as she shifted, the crunching of grass in her teeth, the wind rushing past him, his heartbeat in his ears. It was somehow so much despite being not much of anything at all. He'd always drowned out the silence with music and song. It helped him focus his wandering thoughts, gave him something to narrow the world to so that he didn't try to hear and think everything, and it hadn't been too bad until the last couple of days, as the fog in his mind stopped rolling in. As much as he'd hated the feeling of not being able to think at all... well, it had forced his mind to not go into overdrive. And even if he wasn't talking, somehow Geralt's presence helped offset it all.

He grimaced as Roach moved one of her feet, the sound of the ground under her hoof jarring and sharp, and rubbed his thumb over his fingers.

His lute case sat strapped to Roach's saddle, and even though the thought of playing without being able to sing still sat like molten iron in his stomach and ribs, he was going to have some kind of meltdown if he had to sit here in silence until Geralt came back.

He unstrapped it slowly, handling it gingerly, like it might burn him, then sat on a rock and, carefully, so carefully, unlatched the case and lifted his lute out and set it in his lap.

It shouldn't feel strange for Jaskier to hold his lute, but it did. It had only been a few weeks, but he hadn't played once. He couldn't remember a day between first really learning the lute and the djinn that he hadn't played at least a little, and yet here he was, feeling almost like he wasn't allowed to play.

He glanced over at Roach for encouragement. She didn't seem at all interested in anything he was doing. Well thanks for the help, he thought, and went through the familiar movements of beginning to get his lute in tune. He started to hum a familiar, long-practiced note to help him quickly get the first string in tune, and his hands stilled.

It was such a little thing, he thought, suddenly clutching the lute like it was the only thing tethering him to the mountain. It was such a little thing to both forget and be this upset over. He didn't need to hum, he knew the tuning as well as he knew the feeling of swirling thoughts in his mind when it was starting to race. But he couldn't quite bring himself to continue after that.

It was such a little thing to be this upset by.

(He was such a little thing without his voice.)

He didn't want to be this upset, but tears started to streak down his cheeks anyway. He couldn't move, until one landed on the lute itself, and he instinctively used his sleeve to dry the spot, and then he could move again, and but the lute - a bit too roughly - back in its case, not bothering to properly close or latch it.

Then he turned his back on it and sat on the rock, swiping bitterly at his tears, and waited.

It probably wasn't that long before Jaskier heard footsteps on the path behind him and Roach nickered in that way she only did for Geralt, maybe an hour at most. It had felt like days. Jaskier had evolved from sitting and staring into the distance trying not to cry to throwing rocks into the distance and trying not to cry.

Geralt didn't say anything. Jaskier could swear he felt Geralt's eyes burning on him, standing next to the lute case while Jaskier bent down for another rock to fling inexpertly into the trees further down the mountain. But he didn't say anything, not about the lute or the meeting with the Elder or anything, and Jaskier wished he would, wished he would break the damn silence, because he couldn't.

Instead, he heard the soft sounds of his lute being properly seated in its case, the case being latched, and carried over to Roach. Jaskier threw another rock, and the faint sound of the rock's landing was blocked by the sounds of Roach's packs being re-tied and adjusted, to secure the lute in place.

Why wasn't Geralt saying anything?

Jaskier threw another rock.

"Your technique's shit," came Geralt's voice rumbling low right behind him. Jaskier jumped, startled that Geralt had gotten so close without him hearing, and Geralt's hand shot out to steady him so he wouldn't fall. He pressed his hand over his heart and glowered at Geralt, so the witcher would know exactly how much he did not appreciate being startled like that.

Geralt didn't seem to be bothered, just looked down at him with an expression that, for once, Jaskier had no idea how to read. Jaskier's glower faltered. Geralt put another rock in his hand and turned him around to face the direction he'd been. "Pull your arm back like this," Geralt said, nudging Jaskier's arm into the right position. Jaskier felt like he couldn't breathe, for once in a way that was entirely delicious. Geralt stilled for a second, probably assessing Jaskier's form, then backed off a few steps.

"Okay," Geralt rumbled. "Now lead with your elbow."

Might as well, Jaskier thought, and threw.

The rock went easily half again as far as any of the others Jaskier had thrown, and frankly, he was a little proud of that. He turned to Geralt with a grin, to see that same unreadable expression on it as before, but with the tiniest quirk of a smile.

"We'll work on it," he said, untied Roach's reins, and started down the road. "Come on. We're staying in a village an hour or so away. They've got some folks who teach." Jaskier trotted a bit to match Geralt's long stride, feeling almost - finally - like he wasn't drowning at all.

It didn't occur to him for a good half an hour that with one rock Geralt had, quite effectively, distracted him from his frustration and anger.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 9) (Part 10) Now on AO3!

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt #jaskier #voiceless jaskier au #ayhwa #now with fixed links to the other parts #since I changed my URL lol

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rivolted · 3 years

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GOODNIGHT TO GIRLS UNDER 5′2, SCORPIOS, AND THE VERY UNPLEASANT

[ ASLIHAN MALBORA, CIS FEMALE, SHE/HER. ] introducing calpurnia pamuk, VICTOR of the 71st hunger games, representing district two. my sources say that they are twenty three years old, & that they’re pretty handy with knife-throwing. wonder if that did them any good in the arena ? anyways, caesar says you can’t miss them, because they remind everyone of looking like the innocent flower but being the serpent undern’t, sparks of mischief glittering in your eyes, looking everywhere but at the reflection in the mirror & a finger tracing delicately over scarred skin.

CHARACTER INSPO : katara ( atla ), darayavahoush e-afshin ( city of brass ), fang runin ( poppy war ), alina starkov ( shadow & bone ), leia organa ( star wars )

𝑾𝑯𝒀 𝑪𝑨𝑵𝑵𝑶𝑻 𝑰 𝑫𝑶 𝑨𝑺 𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑾𝑶𝑳𝑽𝑬𝑺 𝑫𝑶 ? / so , a HUMMING VIOLENCE settles without hesitation . don’t call this destruction , 𝖙𝖍𝖎𝖘 𝖜𝖆𝖘 𝖆 𝖉𝖊𝖑𝖎𝖇𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖆𝖈𝖙 . the undoing of the first thing to be done .

name : calpurnia pamuk ( call her nia )

age : twenty three ( with the timeline i’ve made she’s technically twenty two but. she’ll be turning twenty three soon enough. MZMZMZM )

gender & pronouns : cis female & she / her

district : two

occupation : victor.

moral alignment : chaotic. just chaotic.

wcs at the end !

one of calpurnia’s first memories is bringing flowers she’d picked to her father’s bed as he lay sick, her grandmother’s firm hand on her shoulder keeping her stuck to the ground, unable to leap forward and hug him desperately.

both of calpurnia’s parents died when she was very young, of disease, according to her grandmother. she knows nothing else except that. with their deaths, she was placed in the care of her only living relative, her loving grandmother. her incredibly rich grandmother. her grandmother who may or may not have gotten said wealth from shady business practices with the capitol while fronting as a jeweler.

her grandmother, presumably due to losing her son and daughter-in-law so close to one another, was a very nervous woman. she let calpurnia train like any other career, but she made it explicitly clear she was under no circumstance to volunteer. ever.

so, in the academy, nia put in minimal effort. she did well enough to pass, but she never tried to compete for a top spot; still, somehow, she was one of the best. this also did not matter to nia, a fact which was probably a sore spot to everyone who tried to encourage her to participate in the games.

and then. well, calpurnia was always a flirt. but this girl ? her and nia had something real. nia loved her. & after a year-long whirlwind romance, when her name was called ? nia couldn’t handle it. she volunteered. to the world, the actions of a career looking for glory. privately, the desperate act of a girl in love.

the girl did not come to visit nia as she was waiting to be sent off into the games. she never heard from her again. but her grandmother came, even though she was utterly destroyed, and she begged nia to win. to come back to her. nia promised she would; and she’d never broken a promise.

WHAT TO SAY ABOUT THE 71ST HUNGER GAMES. nia went in as a nineteen year old promising...ish career who thrived by displaying a fun, ditzy personality pre-arena, a persona she’d keep alive even when in the arena. because a soft fool of a girl was an easy target. because it would make others come to her.

i haven’t.. . .. . figured this out entirely but i wanna say the arena was very tropical rainforest-esque, and one of the big gamemaker moves against the tributes was literally flushing them out with rainfall so heavy and long it flooded the arena until only whoever was lucky enough to pick the highest trees were left. lots of venemous/dangerous animals, an extreme amount of humidity, and so much foliage the tributes needed a miracle to be able to move anywhere undetected.

calpurnia officially wins on her twentieth birthday, though she wouldn’t find that out until much later. she’d managed to seduce her district partner, having a star-crossed love of the ages. a fantastic decision: he got rid of most of the other careers for her, save for a district 4 girl she had to finish off with her knives. in the end, there were three left: her, a district 6 girl, and him. the district 6 girl was an easy kill, her partner snapping the poor girl’s neck. he’d looked at calpurnia with wide eyes and asked, breathless, “what now?”

and calpurnia, sweet, silly calpurnia, put her hand on his chest. leaned in. brushed her lips against his. told him not to worry, because she would make the ultimate sacrifice. and proceeded stabbed him three times in the heart. and then she kept stabbing him, because suddenly she’d been filled with an indescribable anger - at him, for being tricked so easily. at herself, for doing this to him. but now that she’d killed him, the show was over. everything would go back to normal; better, even.

or so she thought. calpurnia, despite her betrayal, had won the capitol’s hearts. she’s a capitol darling, still. when she won the hunger games, it wasn’t the final act of a hero’s journey: it was the first act of a tragedy.

she goes on. she’s less of a girl and more of a puppet. she’s giggles and smiles and softness, which is ridiculous because she murdered dozens of other people in cold blood, and sometimes her hands itch to do it again. what she wants is to rage, to demand, to be not a puppet or a girl but a monster feared by the capitol. but. but she won’t. who will take care of her grandmother if not her ?

she’s not a good person by any means. when she hears whispers of a rebellion, she listens. follows the trail. but it’s not because she cares for what they have to say; it’s because the rebellion can give her the hot-blooded revenge she wants.

wcs !

so i might send in an actual wc for this, BUT ALSO IF YOU’RE READING THIS AND THINKING ABOUT MAKING A DISTRICT TWO MUSE, i’d love to see the girl who calpurnia fell in love with. i like the idea that maybe this muse wanted to be in the games, and calpurnia taking that from them was seen as a betrayal, but honestly this is.. . .. completely up to you !

I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING FOR PLATONIC SOULMATES. preferably someone from the capitol who she met during her games ? this is someone who, despite their differences, is probably the person closest to nia other than her grandmother. they’re also probably the only one who knows just how much inner turmoil she’s in, and maybe they have their own giant issues that only nia knows about or is willing to understand. eventually, they’ll either be pro-rebellion by themselves or with nia’s help; regardless, they won’t leave each other’s sides. it’s a bond that’s very rare and kind of unexplainable but they’re It for each other ( PLATONICALLY PLEASE )

i want. a fellow victor & her to have a Hate On Sight relationship. it might have a Certain Tension it might not but there’s something about these two that seems to naturally clash, maybe it’s even because they’re actually Similar in some ways ? i just.. . ..Love Enemies

f-family members or friends of the district 2 guy she killed who resent her ? i like to imagine he actually felt something for her, which was.. .. . .A MISTAKE, BUDDY.

LITERALLY ANYTHING. hookups. rivals. bad influences. good influences. ppl who don’t see her as anything past her façade or who might even judge her for being “ditzy” and “pro-capitol”. someone who has like a fancrush on her would be cute, stars in their eyes, don’t meet your idols etc etc.

#sacrificialintro #last one for a bit because my final intro is. uh. not formatted. MZMZMZM

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punkscowardschampions · 3 years

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Ali & Ro

Ali: Look at this lace I found today at Drumcondra [the sleeves/cape moment from her ‘fit]

Ali: Dead cheap for a whole roll, we can make loads from this, possibilities are endless 🥀

Ali: I was thinking we could make you a veil, that would look amazing

Ro: Wow, it’s beautiful! [sends pictures of her fave Victorian mourning veils as #inspo lol]

Ro: I can’t think of a better way to outwardly express my inner feelings about the impending, unavoidable social interactions given that no magic ever seems to yield lasting results.

Ali: Exactly! And how cool would it be to match your veil to say, a seance table covering, or have a shroud for your bed...then we’d never have to commit to one fabric/style ever again 😆

Ali: I know you’re worried, what could we do together to try and ease that and assure you? There will be so many aspects of the day that you will love and shouldn’t miss out on, so what do we need to minimize to get the most out of those?

Ro: I don’t know what to say, with regards to the expansiveness of your creative talents or the depths of your insight for how they’d best be used to help me.

Ali: I’m 🤔 I shan’t give up

Ali: How about having a dedicated time out zone? You are by no means the only person who enjoys/needs alone time to recharge during a party

Ali: And we have the flat, we’ll make a space up there that’s really calm and quiet...does that sound good?

Ro: Won’t it be in use? There’s no safety under siege from Fearghal’s far-flung relations.

Ali: Sure some of them are staying there, though which ones escapes me right now

Ali: But they’ll all be at the party when we’ll be using it

Ali: I don’t think any of them would make use of a chill space

Ro: Likewise.

Ro: Who else do you suppose would make use of it, though? I fear the space would be far too easily corruptible for less calm and quiet pursuits.

Ali: I know what you mean

Ali: There are two rooms, though

Ali: And it would be purely family and friends, not every rando in the pub

Ali: However, noise-cancelling headphones and a barricade are still a must with that crowd, noted

Ali: What else? Blankets, books…

Ro: Family and friends can be equally as invasive, if not more so, than strangers in this instance.

Ali: I think they’d be too invested in their less calm and quiet pursuits to worry with us 😉

Ro: Not all of them.

Ali: Do you really not wanna come, Posy?

Ro: Do you really wish for me to answer that question honestly?

Ali: Ok cuirka (Of course)

Ro: Tra voae sremsk ora resrs muv, srara ek musrems I vuird rosa kura. (The way things are right now, there is nothing I would hate more)

Ali: Huv sremsk ora? (How things are?)

Ro: Yak. (yes)

Ali: I'k sraeems su raod aeuir kemd, ras ka em (I’m trying to read your mind, let me in)

Ro: I'k mus brucdems aeui, koaeba kukasrems arka ek. (I'm not blocking you, maybe something else is)

Ali: I vum's seqa iv, omd vrerks I vuird rosrar roqa imdarksomdems, omd irsekosarae roqa aeui srara, I'rr rakvacs aeuir dacekeum omd dakera mus su ba rasordrakk ek srara srirae ek mu voae su koda sra vorsae kukasrems aeui voms (I won't give up, and whilst I would rather have understanding, and ultimately have you there, I'll respect your decision and desire not to be regardless if there truly is no way to make the party something you want)

Ro: Tra kocs sros aeui'ra imobra su raod kae kemd omaekura kaark ok sruisr aeui roqa orraodae seqam iv.(The fact that you're unable to read my mind anymore feels as though you have already given up)

Ali: I'k raorsbrudam aeui kaar reda sros (I’m heartbroken you feel like that)

Ro: I'k em o raorsbraodems vukeseum suu. (I’m in a heartbreaking position too)

Ali: Arr I voms ek su rarv aeui uis uk sros vukeseum (All I want is to help you out of that position)

Ro: That isn’t all you want.

Ali: It is

Ro: If that were true we wouldn’t keep finding ourselves growing further apart.

Ali: I feel like I’m trying hard to keep with you and include you in my new ventures too

Ali: That is very much what I’m trying to do with this party, for example

Ro: I wish it was working.

Ali: Me too

Ali: If we’re both showing willing, that will make it possible

Ro: Of course. Omd I'k ksaodkoks em kae dakera su daav srek cummacseum vesr aeui.(And I'm steadfast in my desire to keep this connection with you)

Ali: Wa'ra keksark kuraqar (We’re sisters forever)

Ro: Bea and I are sisters, we used to be more than that, you and I.

Ali: Nusrems rok cromsad (Nothing has changed)

Ro: Your priorities have shifted towards new ventures and connections, that’s what has changed.

Ali: I believe in a world where we can both have limitless ventures and connections, without losing what we have already

Ro: Those beliefs have been made abundantly clear of late.

Ali: You’ve never been opposed to magical thinking and the law of attraction before now

Ro: I’m not.

Ali: All I have ever and will ever want for you is the opposite of limitation. You know I believe you can do anything and everything, Ya’aburnee

Ro: Nevertheless, our time together has become more and limited and since no amount of magic has lessened the aforementioned heartbreak there’s simply nothing more to be done, for a resolution or to force myself to adopt the celebratory mindset that everyone is insisting upon. I have tried, but this misery stubbornly refuses to love company.

Ali: We can spend time together, just not today. And as long as that does not actually make you miserable, then there’s no issue with me. I totally accept that everyone has a different idea of a good time, my worry was based around the aforementioned misery… You’ve got plans for your day?

Ro: You know me, there isn’t a passing second that isn’t promised to some pursuit or other. Would you like to come to Mass?

Ali: I would be honoured. Perhaps we could do some set up together after? No strings attached, obviously, but we could use your vision so it doesn’t get tacky 😱

Ro: I’d be as honoured.

Ali: 🥰🥰🥰😇😽😽 I don’t think there will be any convincing that the lace is appropriate but we can still make this a moment

Ro: It could be argued that it’s perfectly applicable in this given instance but I’ll pick my battles more wisely than Tess often asserts I’m capable of whilst additionally doing Tommy the honour of seeing my face, albeit very briefly, in order to avoid the situation flaring up with further ardour than necessary.

Ali: Poor you, it must feel like EVERYONE is getting on your case today 😫😝 You know everyone is coming from a good place though, at least that is some solace if not silence, yeah?

Ro: That will remain to be seen when Bea decides to take her turn, but it’s not as if her determination to get under my skin is limited to any specific occasion, her specific precedent was set long ago.

Ali: At least you know she’ll find time for you, however forced it feels for you or her

Ali: Joe is allegedly coming though so 🤞

Ro: I don’t think there is anything that comes more naturally to her than the lectures she gives me. Perhaps if Joe waylays her arrival enough she’ll at least agree that it’s futile to try and force my hand by then. I’ll start wishing by my usual, trusted means.

Ali: Time will tell

Ali: I feel like I’m going to be late, so much still on the to-do list

Ro: Of course.

Ali: I’ll let you get on then, love

Ro: Okay, consider the same courtesy extended, until we meet again.

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