#yeah hi this the kind of stupid dumb shit i make xoxo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jiilys · 3 years

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would u help me out for a second. im in the mood to write for the first time, and i think your style is beautiful. sitting down n actually trying though, im stuck as fuck! i’m realizing that in your dialogue/scenes you’ve got a lot of Little Things. little tiny elements that are subtle & just enough. how are you deciding that lily is building a house of cards at the moment or sirius is sitting in a tree or whatever during a given scene? how do you come up with those ideas for dialogue that are so silly & real & sneakily tender? do you know where it’s going when you begin? any advice for just… starting something?

ps: i appreciate you. you make it look easy & that’s very very cool

This is a lovely question!! Sorry it took me so long to get to it, I didn’t want to get it wrong. Also I’ve included some examples to try and explain what I mean in practise, but it also comes off rather like plugging. tragically this is unavoidable. Anyway, all that being said I have no idea how to advise you about dialogue and coming up with it, I think just listening to people talk helps. Don’t forget contractions, and when in doubt always trust the reader to keep up, real people don’t say perfect or even grammatically correct sentences a lot of the time. We also cut each other off all the time, especially when we’re trying to be funny. Like, here’s an example from warm front:

“He’s not even two. He probably would have thought it was, like, having a lie down or something.”

Harry was laughing now, “A lie down?”

“Yeah, a spontaneous, truck-induced–“

“–Permanent–“ “

–Permanent, lie-down. I’m almost jealous now actually.”

Another thing, but people say um and like or can't speak or cut themselves off, especially when they’re nervous. James when Lily says she loves him for the first time: ‘“Wow,” He breathed, “I’m– wow.” He put both hands on her cheeks and kissed her crazy, abruptly, dumbly. Her head spun.’ He can’t even speak! Dumb boy.

I think natural dialogue sometimes just requires you to read it aloud, which is very embarrassing but ultimately quite useful in trying to figure out whether something sounds normal or not. Use casual words, and try not to go dictionary hunting: if you cant think of the word chances are your character can’t either

In terms of concepts I have no idea, but I do have a few tips. I write all my short one-shots in one document (its called ‘just bad’ lmao) so its easy to start something, write a few lines, and then if it doesnt work just start a new concept, but still have all the old stuff handy. if you feel like you’ve written yourself into a corner its probably because you took a wrong turn earlier, so its just a matter of going back up and figuring out where you turned onto the dead end, or where a line could be funnier and/or sadder and/or more meaningful. Sometimes the bare bones of a decent line is there but you have to work it a little.

In this harry/ginny thing where harry is apologising for all the attention and ginny brushes him off she says:

“It’s nothing,” her voice, all force, “Anyway, it’s more funny than annoying.”

The response went through a few drafts, all variations on the same thing:

(1) “You’re funnier.” [too short, doesn’t make sense, and not really that funny. unholy trinity]

(2) “You make it funny.” Harry said, looking at her for real, “It’s not– you make it like that.” [this could work! I have no idea why I cut this, I think I forgot abt it lmao]

(3) “You’re the funniest person I know, Harry said, sincerely, and Ginny felt her heartbeat all through her, “You make it funny.” [jumping from ‘its more funny than annoying’ to getting this sincere out of nowhere is a little much, even for harry who is famously whipped]

I ended up going with this:

“It’s nothing,” her voice, all force, “Anyway, it’s more funny than annoying.”

“You’re funny.” Harry said, looking at her for real, flustered, “I mean– you make it funny. That’s all you.”

It follows the flow of the conversation and I think the way he says it, ‘you’re funny’ like its obvious, and then being like oh fuck and over-explaining it stumbling a little “I mean– you make it funny. That’s all you.”. You know when you like someone and you say something that gives you away before you can stop yourself? I wanted it to sound like that. Just gotta keep in mind how people behave, we are so stupid a lot of the time, we give ourselves away.

The thing about short stuff i find is implying a lot of history without actually describing a lot of it. I normally do this by having memories come up as almost shards, one second of feeling. You know when you’re in a conversation with someone and they mention someone or a past event, and it rises to the top of your brain, but only for a second? i find sometimes when you’re reading stuff people will try and replay entire memories or events mid-conversation, which is not something you do when you think. You don’t need to replay it beat by beat, you were there! This sounds vague as hell so I’ll try and show you what I mean:

From good crimes: “Petunia is engaged.” Lily’s voice, raw and wrong, “To Vernon. Eliza Hunt told me at the supermarket.” Sudden flashes of Petunia, the only time he’d ever met her, sat in the back of Lily’s twenty-first, pinched and whispering. “Whose Eliza Hunt?” This seems as good a thing to say as any.

pretty on the nose (the phrase ‘sudden flashes’ is pretty so i'll allow it from past me). But see how you don’t need to know how Petunia didnt talk to anyone, how she left early, how she was the odd one out: you don’t need to read all that, you already know because she was sat in the back and because pinched is such a mean verb, spiteful and sharp, you can already imagine how the evening went without me saying so

From my proposal take, after Sirius finds out they’re engaged: Sirius’ grip on his shoulder tightened for one second, still grinning, and James knew what he meant. “I know.” He said, because only Sirius had been there for all of it, when they were fifteen, drunk on Firewhiskey for the first time and James had said I think I’ve fucked it, I think I’ve fucked it but I like her for real.

you don’t need a description of the whole night, what party they were at, who they were with, what they were talking about: the important bit is that Sirius was the first person he told, and that they’re both remembering that at the same moment because they’re soulmates lmao. You know when something big happens for a friend and you feel so full of pride & love that you feel like you’ll burst into confetti?? this needed to feel like that, and you only need a flash for it

I feel like I’ve sort of strayed off from what you asked me, which is really advice on how to start something. I normally start with a line, usually of dialogue, and then try and build from there because dialogue is my thing. You might have a different thing! Some people write from concepts or locations, or an image. i might start with one or a few lines of dialogue, write them down, and then try to build from there. For example for the proposal thing I started from james just saying “Marry me”, which I find more romantic than ‘will you marry me’, purely because it sounds like he simply couldn’t stop himself from saying it, like it rushed out. Another example, this thing started from just “don’t be mad at me” “okay” James agreed instantly, because he is such a sucker for her.

When I write I don’t normally know where I’m going! I normally set out to write something I think is vaguely funny and evokes An Emotion, and then I just play around with stuff until I get there. when I write certain stuff and I have scenes in mind, stuff I want to happen, but I find that if I try to plot it to tightly its not exciting to work on, because sometimes you write a good line by accident, that you hadn’t thought of when you sat down, and you surprise yourself. That is a really nice feeling! i want to maximise that feeling.

'What I mostly try to remember is that writing something down, anything down, is useful. Sometimes you write for a whole night and dont get anything useable, but its like clearing pipes. Sometimes you have to flush through shit to get to the good bits. All the rough stuff, the things you don’t like or didn’t work, you wrote to get you to the stuff that did work. All of the bad shit got you here! It wasn’t a waste, you were working to find the good thing

If I had any tips its just the usual stuff, read! It is annoying how much that helps. Also, and I know this may make you shudder, but reading poetry is useful just because in no other literary or media form is language so important. In comics you have pictures, in novels you have plot and character, in film you all that and cinematography, but in poetry you live and die by how good the words are. If you want recs here’s my poem roundup tag, that I do sometimes, or if you want something just now read this by Anne Carson, which uses words like ‘smashing’, ‘boatwash’, and ‘green’ in the best way possible. Also it has these lines: “Recently having learned to recognize the type of tree called sycamore, / I see them in any forest— / the ones that look harrowed, / in shreds, but / go also / straight up into life,”

I mean, think of a sharper image than that?? It’s not possible. Just try remember to stay true to your characters and that in real life, the little stuff is the big stuff. Little things the people around you do normally show they care more than big speeches, and if you want to show love that’s how to make it feel lived in. You want to build a world! the little stuff is usually the world. Take some from your own or dream the ones you wish you had.

This truly was a very kind message and I’m so grateful you like my stuff, I hope any of this was even half-useful, although now reading it back it is borderline nonsensical. I’m going to bed now, good luck with the writing, and don’t forget to send it to me!!

caro xoxo

#writing bitching #said it already but loved this message it was so thoughtful. seemed pretty articulate to me i think ur writing is gunna be just fine!!!#rooting for you & anyone trying to write something rn. words suck and are difficult! they are also better than drugs & sex. regretable #kindnesses

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xjoonchildx · 3 years

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dear ana, because you've made this a thing now... pls rank the moles of bts. sincerely, hope xoxo

so i'm gonna ask a dumb question hopie, but does everyone have moles? what makes a mole different from a freckle? i don't really know and i need someone with medical knowledge to set me straight.

*clears throat* so anyway:

kim namjoon

i'm going to have to put my personal weakness for HYYH joon aside, because he looked amazing in this era and that has very little to do with his moles. but here they are, in all their uncovered glory, decorating his thick, muscular neck. not sure how a blurb about moles got that thirsty that fast but shit happens.

kim seokjin

yes you pervert, there’s a mole in this picture, you're just not looking at it. see? it's right there at the top of end seokjin's firm chest, just below those cut collarbones. under his face, dammit that's where you're supposed to be looking. it was kind of hard to dig up jin's mole pictures, perhaps he's the least decorated of them all? i'll have to do an exam myself, of course, to make a proper determination.

min yoongi

is yoongi capable of taking a bad selfie? (i'm sorry, rest of the world, lemme say it like you: selca) clearly the answer is no. once you stop being lost in his eyes, might i direct your attention to the two cute little moles on his nose and cheek? i love it when their makeup is natural enough to let those little spots of color peek through.

jung hoseok

in news that is going to shock not one fucking person, here is my favorite bangtan mole on my favorite bangtan mouth on my favorite bangtan person. look, hoseok's lips are far and away one of his best features and his little lip mole (SOB) is honestly the cutest shit i have ever seen. no wonder there are entire twitter accounts dedicated to it.

park jimin

i think jimin might be the only person on the planet who gets hotter the closer you get. LOOK at this adorable little face decoration on this stupid hot man. it's like a little sprinkle on the tastiest cupcake you've ever seen. i love you, park jimin. call me.

kim taehyung

how cute is this shit, huh? tae's little nose mole (freckle? who the hell knows) is so damned cute. we're always treated to it when he's barefaced but every now and again it peeks through even when he's got a full face of stage makeup on. the perfect decoration for the perfect face.

jeon jungkook

yeah, okay. this mole is definitely up there on the rankings. i mean -- it's sitting right there? under jungkook's (distracting) mouth? front and center on display over jungkook's (carved) chin? it would be just like him to have a perfect little mole to cap off his perfect little face because clearly god does have favorites.

#best bangtan moles

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cabinofimagines · 3 years

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Connor’s ABCs

A/N: The boy is back -Danny

Request: In that case can I request Connor ABCs??? I didn't see your other fics of him so ill go read them now 👀 // Hey I love ur blog and I was hoping u do a stoll brothers (separate) abcs please ❤️

Words: 1,129

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

He tries to have his camp duties aligned with yours so you can spend more time together! Although it tends to be a bit distracting, and it takes you longer to finish lmao

Watching youtube videos or listening to music is also great.

Beauty - What do they admire in their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

I think he really likes the fact that you call him out on his bullshit lmao he admires your bravery, he also loves your eyes.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

His mind goes straight to the food stuff, he’s got you covered, any sweets, any junk food u want, he’s got it. There’s nothing like healing your heart with them quality snacks.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

He wants to travel the world with you. So much to see and so little time to enjoy it, he’ll make sure the rest of your life is one huge adventure

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

It’s a relationship that doesn’t need a lead, you two work together in everything, there’s nothing you guys don’t talk before making an important decision.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Connor is stubborn af, he won’t give in and he won’t let you walk away from the argument, it can last for hours. He is a bit childish when he gets mad, he sulks and pouts and ignores you until he cools down, then he silently looks for you, he has a hard time being the bigger person, but he has a good heart.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

Sometimes he takes things for granted when he’s too comfortable, but if you ever ask for recognition he gives the world to you, be patient. He’s a bit dumb sometimes but he really wants to give you the best of the best.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Connor shares everything unless it’s a silly practical joke he wants to pull, then you have to watch your back and start planning a way to get back at him.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

He’s definitely more mature after you two started dating, less impulsive as well. You’re starting to like practical jokes and stupid puns but that’s not necessarily a good thing you should be careful with that

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Oh yeah, but only bc he’s very aware of his shortcomings. He knows others could be way better matches for you, but he won’t admit it to anyone, only you. He usually tries to outdo himself so he impresses you, it usually pays off.

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

He was a bit clumsy at first, but he’s a fast learner.

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

It was the first time the campers saw him act all anxious and shy, biggest simp ever and that’s very valid.

Memory - What’s their favourite memory together?

The first time you told him ‘I love you’ because then it was your time to look anxious and shy.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

Probably cheesy annoying names he knows you despise, he’s still a little shit at heart so, understandable. It’s all ironic until he’s using them without even being aware of it lmao

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

It’s really transparent, but he knows how to hide it from his crush, at least up until he decided it was time to be honest. After that he’s very honest about what he feels all the time. He’s all silly smiles and ‘you’re so cute’ every five minutes.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

He brags BIG TIME, everyone collectively groans and walks away when he starts.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

He’s really good with languages and knows how to tell you how much he loves you in six different ways. He also teaches you how to do it bc that’s cool

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

He’s really creative! Very romantic as well, would adapt his ideas to your liking.

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

He’s supportive, honestly your significant other should alway be supportive, if not then DUMP THEIR ASS

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice up your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

He loves the thrill and adrenaline that comes with adventure, routines are a solid no for this guy.

Understanding - How well do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

The empathy comes a bit short, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t know how to make you feel better, he only needs to know your ways and your likes and dislikes and then he’s all ready to be your perfect comfort.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

The most important thing hands down. He has you right there above everything.

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

He likes to throw you surprise birthday parties, you have to be careful during the week prior your birthday bc you don’t know when will your friends jump on you when you enter a room.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

Big fan of hugs and kisses, will spoil you with both if you let him.

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Becomes very quiet and somber. You make sure to send him voice notes or iris calls so he doesn’t completely turns into a sad vegetable.

Zeal - are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

Controversial but he would sacrifice the world in order to save you.

Taglist: @beneaththeiceandsnow, @bandshirts-andbooks

#Danny's writing #connor stoll xreader #connor stoll #pjo imagine #hoo imagine

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just-jordie-things · 4 years

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hi i love your writing so much!! could i request 28 & 58 with Sokka? thank you!! :)

prompt 28: first kiss prompt 58: moving around while kissing, stumbling over things, pushing each other back against the wall/onto the bed ___

“It’s just not fair,” You muttered, slumping down against Appa’s saddle, and crossing your arms as you pouted. “How have all of you been kissed?” You asked your friends.

They kind of just shrugged their shoulders, not knowing what to say.

“I mean, Zuko?” You threw your hands into the air, making the firebender gape in offense. “Even you?”

“Hey!” He whined.

You rolled your eyes, and rolled your head back on the saddle to look at the stars above you.

“It’s bullshit. I’m seventeen, and no one has ever thought of me as worthy of a kiss. Unfair”

“Well, have you had boyfriends?” Suki asked.

“There was Jet” Katara said, meant as a tease, but you shot her a glare, not wanting to be reminded of Jet’s weird infatuation with you.

“Not really” You grumbled in response.

“I’ve never been kissed” Toph cuts in, trying to make you feel better, but it doesn’t quite work.

“You don’t understand affection, you don’t like it” You remind her.

“Can’t argue with that,” She says with a bark of a laugh. “Don’t know why you want to be kissed, boys are the worst anyways”

Your eyes glance at Sokka, who quickly looks down at his lap to avoid your gaze. Your heart drops to your stomach and you lean your head back again. You don’t want to think about your stupid crush who seems to hit on every girl except you.

“Yeah,” You mutter back to the blind earth bender. “They’re the fucking worst” __

Once you got to the island, Zuko showed you to his old family vacation home, which would serve as your shelter for the next few days, before Sozin’s Comet.

It was definitely the nicest place you’ve ever gotten to stay during all of your travels, and you had to be grateful to sleep in a real bed, even if the Fire Nation property gave you the creeps.

You were settling in for the night, unpacking the few items you owned and eagerly pulling back the covers of the bed, your features lighting up at the comfortable and inviting mattress.

That was when there was a knock on your doorframe.

You perked up to see Sokka there, standing awkwardly in the hall, not wanting to walk into your space without your invitation. You gave him a small smile and waved him in.

“Hey, what’s up?” You asked, going back to sorting through the clothes in your luggage.

While you were preoccupied trying to figure out what needed to be washed and what didn’t, Sokka was nervously fiddling his hands together as he waited for your attention. It took a few seconds, but eventually you could feel his anxiousness wafting off of him, and you turned to him.

“Something wrong?” You asked, your brows furrowed.

“No, not really, I just... um... I...”

His stammering puzzled you, and you recognized his nervous tick as he brought his hand to the back of his neck.

“I felt bad, about what you were saying earlier, so I wanted to come in here and... um...”

He trailed off again, and you cocked your head to the side.

“About the kiss thing?” You asked, and he nodded. “You have nothing to feel bad for Sokka, I don’t need you to pity me,” You told him. “It sucks, but it’s got nothing to do with you”

“Well I thought-”

“Seriously, I don’t need you to feel bad for me,” You repeated yourself before he could make you feel worse. “Trust me, the last thing I need is you of all people sympathizing over me. In fact, let’s just not talk about it anymore because I’ll only feel-”

Before you could finish your rambling, Sokka had flown towards you, his hands cupping around your cheeks and bringing your lips to his in a fast and heated kiss.

Your eyes widened for a moment, but just as quickly fluttered shut as you melted against him. You lowered yourself from your tiptoes, and slowly, your hands fell against his chest.

He pulls away, and neither of you open your eyes for a second as you both catch your breaths, and let it sink in what just happened.

“Why... why did you do that?” You murmured, your eyelashes fluttering as you looked up at him.

His own eyes flickered over your features before he smiled softly at you.

“I just wanted your first kiss to be special,” He mumbles, his thumbs slowly tracing her your cheekbones. “And from someone that cares about you, not just some random guy”

You’re flustered, your heart is doing somersaults and you’re a blushing mess, but you still manage to tease him.

“You sayin’ you care about me, Sokka?” You asked, gently blowing at his ribs.

“Care about you?” He repeats with a scoff. “I’ve been in love with you for ages”

Your smile falls slightly at the confession, the surprise making you freeze up as your eyes widen.

He takes your expression as the first step of rejection, and drops his hands from your face.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

Now it’s your turn to surprise him, as your hands seize his, and you lean up to capture his lips again.

It’s only your second kiss ever, but it’s explosive, and more than you ever could have fantasized about. You wonder if that’s what kissing is always like, or if that’s just Sokka.

As his soft lips slide expertly over yours, meeting them in sync and progressively becoming longer and deeper with every kiss, you decide it’s just Sokka.

You bring his hands to your waist, before throwing your arms around his neck so you can pull him down lower to meet your height. You kiss him enthusiastically, and you have a tough time biting back your smile.

A part of you wants to shut the door in case anyone were to walk by, but you just couldn’t be bothered to break apart from Sokka for longer than the half second it took to catch your breath, so you pay it no mind.

You pull him backwards, until the back of your legs hit your bed, and then you tug some more until he gets the hint and pushes you with all the gentleness he can back onto the mattress, following you down and propping one hand next to your head so he didn’t completely crush you.

You’re quick to shove all your things off the bed, not caring that your clothes would be in a lump on the floor and all need washing the next day. And then your hands are pawing at the material of Sokka’s shirt so you can tug him over you.

As you move back to be laying completely, and more comfortably, on the mattress you smile up at him, and your hands softly slide over his jaw, before mapping out the rest of his face.

“I love you too” You murmur, pulling him down closer to you, until his chest falls over yours, and your noses bump together delicately.

His free hand falls to your face, pushing your hair back before splaying his fingers over your skin. You blush from the way he looks at you, and you want to look away, but you just can’t, his eyes were too beautiful.

“You’re gorgeous,” He whispers, as though reading your thoughts. “And so very worthy of kissing”

You giggle softly, nervously, as he leans down to kiss you chastely.

He pulls too far away, and you chase his lips, but his hand brings your head back down against the mattress.

“Jet did try to ask you out” He admits, seemingly out of nowhere, and you furrow your brows.

“Why are you telling me this now?” You ask, and again try to kiss him, but he turns his head away.

“Because I told him not to”

Your confused look doesn’t go away, but you don’t look hurt like he thought you’d be.

“Why?”

“Pick a reason, he sucked” Sokka tried to laugh, but the sound was forced, and awkward.

“Well, yeah,” You agreed. “But what’d you tell him?”

“When he told me he had a crush on you, and, he, uh, wanted to ask you out... I told him that you were my girlfriend”

“Oh”

“And then I threatened him”

“Oh”

“And then when he said he was going to go for it anyways, and said some stupid shit about how you wanted him, I hit him”

“Oh my spirits,” You giggled, which wasn’t the reaction that he’d expected from you at all. “Sokka, that’s so ridiculous. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Your hands wrap around the nape of his neck, fingers drawing shapes in his skin soothingly. It eases Sokka’s anxiety, if only for a brief moment.

“Because I was jealous and it was dumb and I didn’t think it mattered at the time”

“Well, then, why are you telling me now?” You ask, quirking a brow.

“Because I don’t want to keep anything from you because I love you and that wasn’t a fair thing for me to do”

You hum, appreciative and a little shocked by his complete honesty.

“I mean, it was weird, that’s for sure,” You tell him. “But it was completely fair, Jet was... the worst,”

Sokka gives you a small smile, glad that you weren’t upset with him since it was so long ago.

“But I’m more frustrated that you had to bring him up now,” You added, nodding between the two of you. “Things were kinda just getting good and you had to bring up that freakin’ guy?”

Sokka laughs, and he doesn’t waste a second before he’s leaning down and pressing his lips to yours again.

You sigh contentedly, and fall in love with him all over again. He was a dork, a jealous dork with apparently a bit of anxiety, but he was all yours. And you were all his. ___

xoxo ~ jordie

#sokka #sokka x reader #atla #sokka imagine #sokka scenario

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letstalkaboutshtufff · 4 years

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Geralt x Injured reader part 1

Part 2

Pairing: Geralt x reader (self insert)

Warnings: swearing, injury, blood, I think that's all?

Summary: Reader is feeling jealous and wanders too far from camp.

*********************

Hey guys! This is like my first fanfiction ever. And I wrote it at like 3am when I couldn't sleep. It's probably trash but if you like it I do have ideas for more! Xoxo enjoy****

Geralt x injured reader part 1

Jealousy was not a pretty color on you. And you swore riot yourself it was no such thing. After all Geralt of Rivia was just a teacher/friend you were travelling with. You had some skill with a sword, he found you trying to take down a kikkemora all by yourself, and failing miserably. After you saw how skilled he was you begged him to take you with him, to train you. He said no of course, so you just kept tagging along without his consent. At some point though he finally decided that if you were gonna come along you might as well be of some use so you made a deal.

Over the months you grew stronger but still had much to learn. After all it takes years for anyone to become a great fighter. And luckily for you, Geralt had many many many years of experience to offer you.

You enjoyed the time you spent togther, the conversation, (although you did most of the talking..) and the training, he was one of the few people in your life you felt comfortable with. Someone you could always count on. And somewhere along your travels the line between student and teacher blurred for you into something else, although you did your best to deny it at first.

You had gone off and caught feelings for the man who had no interest in real committed relationships. You knew you had it bad when you found yourself overflowing with irritation when he spent his nights in the arms of some whore at a dirty brothel.

On those nights you drank until you passed out on roach. Pretty fucking pathetic y/n.

Then came along the witch, Yennefer..

You saw how they looked at eachother, a look you'd wish Geralt would give you even for a fleeting moment.

There were creatures that had been attacking the villagers at night, so the three of you, well four since Jaskier decided to tag along when he spotted us, were tracking these monsters into the forest. You didnt mind Jaskier at all, his songs a welcome distraction from the obvious growing bond between Geralt and Yennefer.

You felt horrible for the animosity you felt towards her. She did nothing wrong and you hated that if not for your jealousy, you probably would have been close friends.

If you were a better women you could get over your silly crush and focus on your training but...

Yeah you had some growing to do. After searching the forest for a few hours, and finding nothing, everyone was tired and decided to set up camp.

Once Geralt tied down roach, he turned to address the group, "Everyone is to stay in camp, these monsters are dangerous, so if you need to take a piss, I suggest you do it behind a tent, unless you wanna risk getting your head shot off" he said rather gruffly.

Jaskier made a sound of discomfort and scooted closer to the fire.

"Dont worry jaskier, I'll protect you" you giggled.

He turned to you in amusement, "Ah yes how does go the training y/n, last I saw you, you could barely lift your sword" he teased.

"I've gotten rather good, mind if I practice on you?" You teased.

"Thanks but I think I better go and get my beauty sleep, good night" he smiled and retreated into his tent.

You went to feed roach some apples when you noticed that Geralt and Yennefer had dissapeared.

Huh? Where did they go? At first you thought they were in trouble since you didnt hear either of them say goodnight but as you got closer to the middle of camp you heard voices coming from Yennefers tent.

You told yourself not to look but you couldn't help it. And the instant you did you felt your heart break. It was one thing to see him in the arms of a whore. You knew they meant nothing to him, but in the arms of someone he cares for? That hurt...

Roughly you turned away from the kissing couple and marched away. Away from camp, away from stupid feelings and dumb petty jealousy.

It was not yennefers fault she was beautiful and powerful and brilliant. And if you were jealous then you should become just as amazing as she is. Maybe then he would notice you...

You were snapped out of your reverie when a rustle in the bushes caught your attention.

Fuck I was not supposed to leave camp...

Thinking quickly, you unsheathed your sword and held it at the ready. Its sharp edge gleaming in the moonlight.

Eyes narrowing at the bush. A moment later you were relived when a rabbit hopped out.

Phew I thought It was--

*SCRAWWWWWWWWCH*

Fuck

You barely missed the creatures slimy claws as it swiped for your head. Jumping to the side you managed to get a good look at the beast. It was rather large and spider looking, with several disgusting sets of beady eyes and a long slithering tough that dripped of something purple. So geralt was right, the creature lurking here was a visser. (Completely made it up on the spot) They're claws are sharp and quick but it's the tongue you have to watch our for. One jab, although not fatal can leave a man in bed for days from pain. 2 jabs in the same place? then your a goner. And the visser is known to be smarter, he distracts with claws and jabs quickly before you can even blink.

You knew you should probably yell for your companions. There was a chance they could hear you. But that very second you thought of yennefer and how she would be able to take on a monster like this.

That made up your mind...this monster was going to be your kill... youd finish this off and prove that you had gotten stronger if it's the last thing you do.

Although that would kind of defeat the purpose...

"Urgh" you landed roughly on the ground, one of its claws managed to swipe at you.

"Ok no more misses nice gal" regainging your stance, the glint of the moon shone on your opponent. With a visser you had a few options. Option 1, go for the head which kills instantly but the risk of a jab is highest.

Option 2 is cut off all the legs quickly then send your sword through the head. But if it dodges... you're dead meat.

Option 3, try to get under the beast where its tongue cant reach you and strike upwards. With your small stature option 3 sounded the smartest. You just had to move fast enough where it wouldnt be able to see you for a split second.

Alright y/n dont let your training go to waste! This is your chance to prove yourself.

Running faster than you've ever ran before, you circled around the visser waiting for when the creature was even a second slow and could not see you. The right moment was.....

Now! You sprinted forward and slid under its legs.

"Scrawaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaachh" the monster howled in pain as you slammed your sword directly up getting covered in visser guts in the process.

"Blegh how disgusting.." you swiped the guts off your face and stood in front of the slain beast.

For once in a long time you felt proud of yourself. You slayed a monster all by yourself, even Geralt said you hadn't been ready yet and often told you to stay back during fights. But he would have to eat up his words now hehe. You could just imagine everyone's faces when you would tell them.

You were too wrapped up in your glory to notice a second visser sneaking up behind you.

By the time you heard its screech, it was too late. Its slimy black tongue had struck your stomach leaving a sizzling pain behind it.

"FUCK" unsheathing your sword again, you tried to maneuver far enough out of its reach to thing of a plan. There was no way you could pull on option 3 again with the way your core burned. One more jab and it would be over. Damn it! why couldn't you just have your victory and be done with it!

One hand clutched at your injury while the other was positioned weakly in front of you. Your eyes blurred slights but you refused to let this shit swamp be your final resting place.

The burning subsided to an ache and you used that opportunity to make a mad dash into the thicket. You needed to think of a plan and quick, it would not take long for the visser to catch up with you, especially now that you had that stupid injury.

"Srawwwwwwwwwch" it sounded like it was right behind you. Fuck fuck fuck.

And then because mother nature decided to be a BITCH, you tripped on a large tree root and tumbled forward.

"Scraeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeech" you flipped over quickly and shut your eyes as the visser was basically on top of you. 3 more seconds and you would be dead.

3, how pathetic y/n, after all these promises you made to yourself about becoming someone worth being proud of you fuck up the one chance you had.

2, maybe it's better this way, would anyone even miss you? Jaskier would, maybe he would even write a song about you..

1, I'm sorry I was an idiot...Geralt I'll watch over you...

"SWOOOOOOOOSH" the unmistakable sweet sound of metal slicing through flesh made your eyes shoot wide open.

"Geralt!" He stood out of breath hovering over the now beheaded visser. His sharp golden eyes moved from the beast, to you.

Without a word he reached over and pulled you up without a hint of gentleness. You hid your wince at the sudden movement. Not wanting to let anyone know that the visser had gotten the better of you.

"What happened" he bit out slowly. Fuck he was angry. "Why did you leave camp y/n when I explicitly told you not to" his feline eyes bore into yours and suddenly you felt too intimated and looked away.

Ah yes what excuse will I come up with now. Sorry Geralt I had to leave because I felt immense pressure and heartache seeing you and Yennefer over there locking lips and most passionately I might add.

When he noticed my hesitation he let out a growl, "Hmm, don't lie to me"

Fuuuuuuuuuck...

"I-I didnt mean to, really... I couldn't sleep so I was walking close to camp and I didnt even realize I had wandered so far until the other visser attacked." You looked him in the eyes knowing it would better your chances of him believing it.

He stared at you a few more seconds before letting out a sigh.

" You killed it" he said bluntly, and softer than before.

"I did.." you couldn't help the small smile that formed on your face. He sighed again, this time he had a small smirk on his face, "Well I guess you have learnt some things after all" he patted your shoulder but pulled away when Yennefer and Jaskier appeared.

"Y/n thank god your alive, are you alright?!" Jaskier grabbed your shoulders and scanned you for injuries. Luckily your stomach was covered by your armor, visser Jabs were known for hurting like hell at first, seeming to get better shortly after, then coming back tenfold. Right now you were at stage two, the calm before the storm..

Yennefer made a comment about how impressive you were to slay the visser and you hated yourself for still feeling ill towards her. She was a great person and you could not blame Geralt for liking her. It was just an unfortunate situation.

The walk back was quiet and the second you were in your tent again you dared to take a look at the wound. Gingerly you unbuckled your armor and lifted up your shirt.

You let out a small sigh of relief. It just looked like a large bruise. Nothing you couldn't pass off as a "I fell off roach" kinda injury.

As positive as you tried to be, you knew the worst was yet to come. But by god you were not about to let your victory be ruined by your companions knowing of this. Especially since Yennefer and Geralt could've slain the beast without a scratch.

Somehow you were lucky and slept the rest of the night in peace. It was early when jaskier came to wake you. Although you slept plenty, you felt just as exausted as you did after your late night encounter.

Before putting on your armor, you dared to look at the wound again. You regretted it the moment you did.

Fuck me... the bruise was much darker than before and covered a larger area. As for the pain, it felt only slightly more sore which was good for now. The last thing you wanted was for anyone to find out about it.

Quickly you threw togther the rest of your things and met the others. According to the village leader there was one more visser out there so we continued our search deeper into the forest. It was around noon when the pain intensified. It started as a constant dull ache but gradually became a burning sensation. It was becoming harder to hide it.

You made up some excuse to the group and sat on top of roach. You were sure if you had to walk anymore you would have fallen over. Luckily for awhile jaskier was more preoccupied with his latest ballad and geralt and yen were wrapped up in some serious conversation. You didnt realize how far you were lagging behind until jaskier turned to you.

"Y/n?" He walked over to you and pulled on roaches reigns making him go a little faster.

"Hm" was all you could manage.

"Are you alright? You're sweating so much"

Confused you ran a hand over your head. He was right, you were and didnt even feel it.

"Yo- sic- rest-" what? Why was Jaskier talking gibberish...and why is he so blurry?

You didnt even feel yourself pitching to the side, just the woosh of air through your ears.

"Y/N!? Y/N what's wrong?!?!" Jaskier barely managed to catch your half conscious form. "GERALT!" The witcher swung around sword at the ready but widened his eyes in shock at what he saw.

Y/n was on the floor, breathing heavily and being propped up by Jaskier.

Geralt and Yennefer quickly ran over. The witchers eyes narrowed in concern when he saw the state of her. She was sweating profusely and looked to be struggling with something. Yennefer raised a hand to her forehead but shook her head. "Its not a fever".

Geralt held her up, lightly smacking her face, he grew even more worried when she didnt react.

"Jaskier what happened"

"I don't know, I noticed she was falling behind so I went to check on her, then I noticed she looked sick, I was telling her we should stop and rest but then she just collapsed. She seemed really out of it too.

At that moment a grunt of pain escaped y/n's lips, and her eyes slowly opened.

You were confused as to why when you opened your eyes, gerald's golden ones were staring at yours with intense concern.

"Y/n can you hear me??" he questioned furrowing his brows.

"I-I ahhhgh" you screwed your eyes shut as the pain intensified. It felt like someone had set your stomach on fire.

This only confused geralt more, "you're hurt" he said as more of a statement.

"Where is the pain y/n," the gentle voice of yennefer surrounded you. Ugh why couldn't she just be a bitch, it would make things so much easier.

You tried speaking but a moan left your lips instead. Fuck this hurt worse than anything you had encountered before.

Geralt closed his eyes as if he had a sudden realization, "you got hit by the visser didnt you"

When you didnt speak but he saw the look in your eyes he knew it was true. "Fuck".

Quickly he began removing your armor and saw the injury peeking from under your shirt. He wasted no time lifting it up just until below your chest. You heard small gasps but were too out of it to know from who.

"Fuck y/n, why didn't you say anything??" Geralt scolded as he examined the wound.

Luckily you didnt have to answer, just focus on breathing heavily.

"Will she be alright?!" The frantic voice of jaskier floated through your ears.

"It would have been better if she told us from the beginning, with a visser attack you need to stay still as much as you can. However by the looks of it she only got hit once, which means she still has a chance."

"What can we do?" Was it yennefer or jaskier who said that?

Geralt pulled a sack from roach and rummaged through it till he pulled out a yellowish filled bottle.

Lifting y/n with one arm he pulled the cork with his teeth and gently placed it between her lips. "Drink y/n" without a second thought you downed the strange liquid coughing as it burned your throat like liquor.

"What is that?" Jaskier asked curiously.

" it's for the pain, it'll make her feel like shes dreaming." Geralt threw her armor onto roach and lifted her up carefully into his arms. "Let's go" he ordered and the troup was once again on their way. Geralt gave one look at the now sleeping y/n and sighed. What was she thinking?

***************************

When you opened your eyes the first thing you did was let out a girlish laugh.

Geralt was surprised for a moment since you had been silently resting in his arms for a long time. "Y/n?"

"Geralt! You've dyed your hair pink! How adorable!" You reached up and pulled at the cotton soft locks.

The witcher sighed, knowing this was the effect of the medicine. Jaskier and yennefer let out a small laugh at the scene of the two.

"Go back to sleep y/n, you need rest" he commanded softly.

"GERALT!" you suddenly exclaimed! "Oh no you cant be the white wolf anymore! Oh no oh no oh no WAIT I GOT IT! YOU CAN BE THE PINK PONY! QUICK JASKIER WRITE THIS DOWN!!"

"Ah yes the witcher, pink pony of the north, has a nice ring to it" jaskier couldn't contain his laughter.

Geralt decide it best to ignore her and keep walking forward.

"Geralt?" He chose to ignore her again. "Geralt....?"

"Gerrrrrallllllt?"

"GERALT!"

"Geralt geralt geralt geralt geralt geralt"

"What?!" He bit out annoyed.

"Do you think I'm pretty? hehe" he was caught off guard and was not sure how to answer. It didnt help the other two were just giggling behind him.

"I um....yeah" he said awkwardly.

"So I dont look like a troll?" You asked earnestly.

"Pfft what?" Now geralt was the one who couldn't control his laughter.

"Don't laugh!" You suddenly pouted. "A long time ago one of my lovers said I looked like a troll when he broke up with me.."

Still amused geralt shifted you to meet his eyes, "No y/n, you do not look like a troll"

"Phew thank god, I dont know what I would have done..." you laid a hand against your head dramatically.

"Now will you please stop squirming and go back to sleep" geralt sighed out.

"Hmmmmmmmmmmm......alright I've decided to go to sleep since I need sleep and it's what I have decided" you saluted the air.

"Finally.." he grumbled.

With a smile you reached both arms around his neck and brought your soft lips to his unshaven cheek.

"Goodnight pinky, sweet creams" he was shocked for a moment then let out an exasperated laugh.

"Goodnight y/n...sweet creams"

******************

To be continued in part 2!

#geralt of rivia #geralt #geralt x oc #geralt x reader #fanfiction #fanfic #the witcher #netflix #reader injured #injuries #hurt #angry geralt #yennefer of vengerberg #jaskier #part 1 #geralt x injured reader #geralt x injured reader part 1 #geralt x injured reader pt 1

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Tree House Kisses, Chapter 39 (Adorney/Adore x Tatianna) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Click here for previous chapters or here if you’d rather read on AO3. Thank you so much once again to @saiphl for being a fabulous beta! xoxo!

Chapter Summary: Just when Courtney thinks her year can’t get better, a new girl arrives who immediately captures Adore’s attention.

TW: Underage sexual activity (implied)

Chapter 39: Poker Face

Courtney loved being a senior; so far, it had been everything she’d always dreamed of. To begin with, she was fitting in better than she ever thought possible with Adore’s friends. As much as she loved the neighborhood kids, they tended to stress so much about school that it made her stress also--no such problem with Adore. It was already October and they’d yet to have one conversation about their grades, or discuss school in anything but the most casual terms.

Violet was still not her number one fan, but for the most part, she’d calmed down a lot, and the others were all great. Courtney had always loved Willam, his snarky sense of humor cracking her up constantly, and Trinity was just as funny, her deadpan delivery and calm presence immediately making Courtney feel at ease. Fame was pure sweetness, and Pearl was enough of a flirt to make Courtney feel cute but not so much to be awkward. She was having a blast with all of them, to the point where sometimes she felt guilty for not missing Roy more.

Today, she was sitting beside Adore on the bleachers, waiting for the homecoming pep rally to start, sipping an extra large boba tea that they’d picked up before school, and she just felt so...adult. She’d had to do a lot of convincing to get Adore to come to the rally, her friend generally opting to skip this kind of activity to smoke behind the portables with Pearl, Trinity and Willam, but it was worth it.

“Aren’t you glad you came?” Courtney asked, gesturing to her former cheer squad friends warming up. “You get to watch cute girls jump around in short skirts.”

“Bitch,” Adore cut her eyes at Courtney, shaking her head, “Those are not the girls I would choose to see jumping around.”

“Yeah...sorry I quit,” Courtney said coyly, and Adore shoved her, laughing.

“By the way, this drink is weird.”

“I know, but I kind of like it. We had so much of it this summer, Katya was obsessed.”

“You mean Mommy?” Adore teased.

“Omgod, stop it.” Courtney giggled, leaning a head on Adore’s shoulder, linking an arm through hers.

“Guys!” Fame waved from the bottom of the bleachers, where she was dragging Violet along by the arm.

Courtney waved back excitedly, beckoning them over, gesturing to the space on the bench she’d saved.

“I know this is a pep rally, but can you like, dial down the pep?” Adore groaned. “It’s too early for that shit.”

“Sorry,” Courtney said with a grin. “But look, Violet’s coming, you can be miserable together.”

Adore’s eyes suddenly went wide.

“Who is that?” Adore asked, mouth hanging open.

“Where?”

“With Fame and Vies…”

“Oh, uh…” Courtney squinted, then shook her head. She didn’t recognize the brunette with them, hadn’t even noticed her until Adore pointed her out: a tall girl in low-slung jeans and dramatic eye makeup. “I don’t know. Maybe she’s new.”

“Wow.”

Courtney couldn’t help the slightly irritated feeling that filled her chest, seeing that Adore was once again going gaga over a new girl. Sure, she was pretty, with a glossy black pixie cut and rich, dark skin, and what Courtney supposed she had to admit was a killer body...still, it was annoying.

As difficult as it was for Courtney to swallow down her bitterness, she did, making room for the new girl, whose name was Tatianna. She’d just moved with her family from Virginia, and she didn’t seem too pleased about having to do her senior year in a new school, but she was grateful to get the good fortune to sit next to Fame in yesterday’s advanced drawing class.

She seemed nice, too. Ugh.

Adore noticed her tattoo, just barely peeking out from her top (of course she’d noticed that), and immediately complimented her on it.

“Oh yeah, it was the first thing I did when I turned 18,” Tatianna said, “just a little reminder of my band back home. Another thing I had to leave.”

“Wait, you had a band? What do you play?” Adore asked excitedly.

“Bass.”

“Oh my god, I play guitar! We should totally jam sometime!” Adore exclaimed, cheeks flushing when Tati nodded slowly, her full lips curling into a smile.

“Yeah, sounds great…”

Courtney jabbed her straw into her drink. Suddenly Adore didn’t seem to have a problem with pep in the morning, did she? Fortunately, the rally started, so she had something to focus on besides Adore’s embarrassingly obvious flirting. And something to distract her from her increasingly intrusive fantasies of pouring the rest of her boba right down Tati’s smooth, tan back.

Courtney wrapped her arms around herself, a slight shiver going through her.

“You cold, babe?” Fame asked sweetly.

“Oh, yeah, a little.”

“She’s always cold,” Adore said, punching Courtney on the arm and then turning back to Tatianna.

“Here, Courtney,” said a smooth, silky voice, and Courtney looked up with surprise to see that it was Violet offering her a sweater.

“Vies, that’s so sweet!” Fame squealed, thrilled that she was finally making a gesture of kindness towards Courtney after hating her for so long.

“Thanks,” Courtney said.

“You look like you need it,” Violet added with a wink, and Courtney sighed. Of course Violet would find a way to make a sweater feel like bullying.

“So..have you guys decided what you’re wearing to the dance tomorrow?” Fame asked.

“Do we really have to go to that?” Adore moaned, cutting her eyes at Tati. “School dances are so lame!”

“Yes, Dory, you promised!” Courtney said. “We said we’d all go together!”

“Ughhhh…”

“I know it’s really cheesy, but I actually love school dances,” Tati said, running a hand through her hair.

“Oh yeah, I mean they can be totally stupid fun,” Adore backtracked, and Courtney did her best to hide her eyeroll.

“Too bad I don’t have a ticket.”

“Oh yeah, bummer,” Courtney said, trying to hide her delight with extra sympathy.

“No, they're still selling tickets!” Fame exclaimed. “We’ll get you one at lunch!”

“Party,” Adore added, grinning.

Tatianna was totally right about the dance, Adore realized. If you just leaned into how dumb it all was, you could have an amazing time. At one point, when she was taking a break to get some punch, Tati caught up with her, touching her on the wrist in a way that made her a bit tingly inside.

“Hey…”

“Hi! You, uh, having a good time?” Adore asked.

“Yeah,” Tati smiled, her brown eyes warm, a lock of dark hair falling into her eyes that Adore almost reached out to brush away--but thought better of it. “Your friends are really great.”

“Yeah, they’re a riot…” Adore glanced over at the dance floor, where Willam was currently wearing Trinity’s shoes and bolero and putting on a show for everyone.

“And I was wondering,” Tati continued, stepping closer, “if maybe you would want to do something together, sometime.”

Adore looked back at her, slightly surprised. She didn’t want to be presumptuous, but it seemed like Tati was asking her out. Was she?

“You mean...just us?”

“Yeah.”

Adore held her gaze for a few moments, pulse racing as she nodded slowly.

“Yeah, I think I’d like that a lot. Maybe...um...well we talked about playing a little. You could come over tomorrow, bring your bass...if you want.”

“Okay, great.” Tati grinned again. There was a heated moment, and then she leaned forward slowly, pressing a kiss to Adore’s cheek, close to her ear, that made her whole stomach flip around like crazy, goosebumps breaking out on her arms. It had been such a long time since Adore had felt this way about anyone. Well, anyone available.

Adore swallowed, clearing her throat before saying, “Um, wanna go back and join the group?”

“Sure.” Tati held out her hand and Adore took it carefully, still buzzing with excitement.

They ended up back at Adore’s house after the dance--all of them crashed out on her living room floor. In the morning, Adore stumbled out of bed into the kitchen and Courtney was already up, sitting on the deck with a cup of tea. Adore opened the sliding glass door and padded outside in her bare feet to join her.

“Up early for some morning yoga?” Adore joked.

“No, just needed some air.” Courtney turned her head to take Adore in, hair a wild, tangled mess, her loose pajama shorts practically falling off her hips. She patted a spot on the lounge chair beside her and Adore trotted over.

“So, did you have fun last night?” Courtney asked as Adore flopped down beside her with a yawn.

“Sure...well, about as much fun as I could’ve hoped,” Adore laughed. “What about you? Did you miss Roy?”

“Yeah, of course.” Courtney’s cheeks reddened, realizing that she hadn’t really thought about him. It was strange, how normal it felt for him to be gone. She should probably text him, make sure that his first semester was going okay.

“Sorry. I hope you had a good time anyway,” Adore said.

“Totally!” It took a few moments for Courtney to work up the courage to ask the next question on her mind. “Um...are you and Tatianna like, a thing now?”

“I dunno,” Adore said, scratching her head, little butterflies in her abdomen waking up. “Well...I mean no, but...maybe eventually. God, I’m so bad at this.”

The slight blush on cheeks told Courtney everything she needed to know. She pasted on a bright smile and linked their arms together.

“Nah, you’re doing just fine. I think she really likes you,” Courtney said. As much as she didn’t like it, this thing between Adore and the new girl, she knew that she needed to be supportive. That’s what friends did, right?

“You do?”

“Yeah, she barely looked away from you all night.”

This news somehow felt most shocking of all. Not only that Tati had been paying her so much attention, or that she’d somehow not realized it, but that Courtney had noticed. It was just a lot of information for Adore to process.

“Really?” Adore felt her cheeks burning.

“Why do you sound so surprised?” Courtney asked.

“Well...just...she’s so cool. And hot.”

“So are you!” Courtney insisted.

Adore opened her mouth to toss out something sarcastic, but found herself at a loss for words, finally offering a quiet, “...shut up.”

Courtney giggled, snuggling closer to her and resting a head on her shoulder.

Adore could not possibly have been more awkward with Tatianna if she tried--she was just so out of practice. It had been over a year since she broke up with Raja, and she hadn’t gone out with anyone since then. She’d basically forgotten how to flirt; it was absolutely hopeless.

She tried to cover up her awful nerves by focusing on the music (and perhaps taking a few more bong hits than she normally would’ve). Once she discovered that Tati’s band back home had done a lot of classic rock--80s hair bands and 90s grunge, cool shit like that--she tried even harder to impress her, playing some of the music she’d been working on all summer. It was rough, and a little embarrassing, but it also felt good to finally be sharing them, especially with someone who knew music.

At one point, she got super into one of the newer songs, forgetting to be self conscious and just rocking out. When she ran out of lyrics, she stopped abruptly, looking over at Tati, who was sitting on her bed with an amused expression, and shrugging.

“That’s...all, I guess. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, it was good.” Tati plucked out a soft bass line, eyes still on her. After a few moments, she chuckled to herself, shaking her head.

“What?” Adore’s cheeks grew hot, a flush creeping up from her neck.

“No, it’s just...when you said to come over and jam, I kind of thought that was code.”

“Code for what?” Adore asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Nevermind,” Tati said, biting her lip.

God, she was so cute, so irresistibly sexy. Adore could not fuck this one up, she just couldn’t. She placed her guitar in the stand and got up from her desk chair, walking quickly over to Tati and standing over her.

Tati looked up, dark eyes smoldering, and Adore realized that this was it, her shot at finally moving on for real. She cupped Tatianna’s face in her hands and bent down, planting a kiss right on her mouth.

It wasn’t until it was happening that Adore realized how much she’d missed this: human touch, the press of a body against hers. She was already trembling with need as she grappled with buckles and zippers and perfect, biting kisses that left her reeling.

Tati’s hands were perfect: soft and sure, and her plush mouth was absolutely transcendent. Adore closed her eyes, surrendering completely to the moment, the heat, the delightful helplessness of someone else taking full control.

Afterwards, she lay flat on her back, trying desperately to catch her breath, hands in her hair. Tati sat beside her, packing the bong, her gorgeous tits on full display as Adore watched her through heavy-lidded eyes.

“Fuck...that was so...fuck…” Adore breathed, and Tati giggled girlishly.

“Yeah?”

“Oh yeah. Shit.” Adore rolled over, burying her face into Tati’s lap, her thigh still slick with sweat, pressing her lips against smooth brown skin.

“My next ink is going there,” Tati announced.

“Here?” Adore laid another kiss on her thigh.

“Yeah. I want to get a cherry bomb.”

“Oh my god, that’s so fucking cool!”

“Right?” Tati coughed, passing the bong to her. “But I need to find a good artist, I don’t want it to be cheesy.”

“I might know someone,” Adore said.

“Really?”

“Yeah, there’s this chick my cousin goes to all the time, she’s fucking rad. I can show you her MySpace page...later...when I have the strength to get up.”

Tati laughed, patting her bare ass and dropping a kiss to the top of her head. “Sounds perfect.”

The shriek of Adore’s phone ripped through the moment, startling her for a second. She reached for the receiver on her nightstand, answering groggily. “Hello?”

“Hey, it’s me,” Courtney said, immediately asking, “So...how’d it go?”

“Uh...great,” Adore said, fiddling with the edge of her blanket.

“Yeah? Did anything happen?”

“Uh huh,” was Adore’s cryptic reply, but Courtney seemed to have caught on.

“Is she still there?”

“Uh huh.”

“Well...I was about to go pick up some Chinese food, do you want anything?” Courtney then asked.

“Hell yeah!” Adore sat up, only then realizing how starving she was. “Beef with broccoli! And lo mein, you can choose what kind.”

“Okay, what about your guest?”

“Oh, right.” Adore covered the receiver, telling Tati, “Courtney’s getting Chinese food, what do you like?”

“Oh, that’s so nice of her. Um...I’ll eat whatever.”

“She’s down to share whatever. Maybe some kind of fried rice? And egg rolls. And orange chicken. Or, mmmm, Kung pao shrimp! Or what’s that creamy one? Cashew shrimp!”

“You’re high, huh?” Courtney asked, laughing.

“Little bit.”

“I’ll bring it over ASAP.”

“I...love you...so much.”

“Duh, same. See you soon.”

Moving across the country a month into her senior year had absolutely sucked. Tati went into the situation knowing that the entire year could very well be miserable and lonely. It was a brilliant stroke of dumb luck that on her first day, she happened to sit next to one of the friendliest, chattiest girl she’d ever met. Fame was truly a gift from the universe, not only immediately taking Tati under her wing, but introducing her to all of her friends, making her feel like she belonged.

It was possible, of course, that it was a mistake to jump into things so quickly with Adore. She didn’t know her very well, she didn’t know any of them very well. But Adore seemed so into her, and Tati couldn’t resist that smitten expression on her face, how absolutely cute and fun she was. And besides, she deserved to have something good in her life after leaving all of her friends back home.

Not that she was without reservations. When she reported the hookup to Nina, her oldest friend seemed extremely dubious about the whole thing.

“How long have you known this girl?” Nina asked.

“A...couple of days?”

“I dunno girl, that seems...you could be getting into some deep shit, especially if you’re trying to be friends with herfriends? Do you even know the dynamics of their group? You should really have waited a bit.”

“I see your point but like...it’s not like I’d be losing deep friendships, you know?”

“Yeah, but...well, just be careful. Don’t get too invested. Don’t be a mess.”

“I know, I know.”

In spite of the very sound advice from Nina, and Tatianna’s own misgivings, she couldn’t help catching onto Adore’s enthusiasm. Especially when that enthusiasm led to an intro to an absolutely fantastic artist to do her next tattoo. It took almost 5 hours, and by the end, she was really feeling the burn, eyes watering.

Adore was incredible the whole time--fetching her cold sodas, holding her hand, distracting her with cute stories. She really was working overtime to be the perfect girlfriend, and Tati appreciated it, putting all of her negativity aside and just enjoying herself.

After all, Nina didn’t know everything.

As much as Adore hated to admit it, senior year was pretty fucking great so far. She had awesome friends, a sexy new girlfriend, and she’d planned an easy, low-stress course schedule for the year with barely any homework. She was living the dream.

It was Halloween night, and the gang all decided to meet at Courtney’s before heading to Laganja’s for her annual ‘why-do-her-parents-agree-to-this’ blowout.

Adore had been hanging out with Tati all afternoon, smoking and fooling around and eating Cheez-Its and peanut butter straight from the jar until the last possible second before they had to get dressed, dragging themselves out of bed to change into their costumes. As they walked next door, the chilly Autumn air hit Adore smack in the face, having quite a sobering effect. She shivered and slipped her arm around Tati’s waist, using the cold as an excuse to get close to her--which Tati gladly didn’t object to whatsoever.

“Happy Halloween!” Courtney flung open the door, squealing with joy when she saw Adore and Tatianna’s ‘Bacon and Eggs’ costumes. “You guys. Look. So cuuuute!”

She pulled them both in for a hug, jumping up and down. Adore eyed the big, nearly empty bowl of candy by the door, as well as Courtney’s mouth stained blue, Tootsie Roll pop in her hand, and shook her head.

“I warned you that she’d be hopped up on sugar, didn’t I?” Adore said, giving Tati a slight eye roll. Courtney didn’t eat refined sugar that often, so Halloween was one of those days when she was even more extra than usual.

“You did,” Tati laughed.

“Shut up, it’s my favorite day!” Courtney exclaimed. She stuck it back into her mouth and then thought better of it, holding out the glistening lollipop to Adore. “You want some?”

“Can I have the ones without your fucking drool all over it?” she asked, gesturing to the bowl.

“Take it all!” Courtney said, laughing. “Fuck the trick-or-treaters, right?”

“Exactly.” Adore swiped the bowl off the ledge, fishing out a bag of Sour Patch Kids.

“I love the Rosie costume, Court!” Tati said.

“Thank you very much.” Courtney twirled, displaying her Rosie the Riveter costume, complete with pin curls and a red bandana headband. “Come on in, guys! Fame, Violet and Pearl are here already.”

She led them down the hall, clinging to Adore’s arm, chattering a mile a minute about how Fame had been helping with her hair, and how everyone’s costumes were amazing, and how they were gonna be the coolest group.

“So, be honest. Do you think my costume is too abstract?” Adore asked. “Because we had a long debate about it.”

Adore’s interpretation of a fried egg was a little abstract--she wore a white unitard with a bright yellow felt circle pinned to her shoulder, and a yellow, chin-length wig, with matching face paint. Tati’s bacon dress was a little more straightforward, long, fat strips of painted fabric covering her corseted bodice and then hanging down to form a skirt.

“No! It’s perfect! You look adorable. Both of you.” Courtney wrapped an arm around them both, giving Tati a side hug.

It was nice for Adore to see Courtney being so welcoming and sweet to her new girlfriend. It certainly hadn’t been like that with Raja, or even when Pearl moved in. Adore wondered if maybe, for all her best intentions, it had just taken her this long to be truly comfortable with the whole gay thing. But whatever the reason, Adore was happy that she was being her warm, friendly self, treating Tati like an old friend without any coaxing.

They opened the door to Courtney’s bedroom, which was a bit of a madhouse, Pearl putting the finishing touches on her Beetlejuice costume, and Violet, dressed in what looked like real 1920s vintage flapper glam, helping Fame smear blood and brains all over to complete her zombie cheerleader look.

“Whoa, cool costumes!! But I can’t believe you guys all beat us here when I’m right next door,” Adore laughed.

“What the fuck are you supposed to be?” came a voice from behind her. She spun around to see Willam, dressed as a Bratz doll, and Trinity, in a cute Cheer Bear costume.

“I’m fried eggs!” Adore said, turning to Tati and whining. “I told you it was too abstract.”

“I think it’s cool,” Trinity said, checking out her reflection in Courtney’s mirrored closet doors and tucking some stray hair into her pink hood. “Will’s just being an asshole.”

“Being? Willam is always an asshole,” Violet piped up, laughing as Willam shoved her, pushing him right back.

“Guys? Guys?” Courtney jumped on her bed, eyes bright. “Are we almost ready? When can we go?”

“You need to calm down,” Adore said, a hand on her hip.

“I’m just excited, it’s Halloweeeeeeen!” she said, then shrieked as Adore tackled her, bringing her to her knees.

“No more sugar for you!”

Pearl couldn’t help notice the mildly perturbed expression on Tati’s face as she watched them wrestling on Courtney’s bed. She sidled up to her, slinging an arm across her shoulders and saying, “They just...get like that sometimes.”

“Uh huh.”

“Honestly, it’s no big deal,” Pearl assured her.

“Yeah, no, it’s cool,” Tati said, adjusting her bacon headband.

Pearl’s gaze traveled back to the bed, where Courtney had successfully gotten Adore face down, arm twisted behind her back. She sat down firmly on her as Adore squealed out, “Truce! Truce!”

“Guys?!” Courtney kept Adore in the hold a few moments longer before releasing her with a victorious smirk and a sharp smack on the ass. “Can we go? Can we go?”

“Why are you so anxious to get to this dumb party?” Willam asked. “Everyone we know who’s remotely cool is already in this room.”

“Awww, Bill, does that mean you think I’m cool?” Courtney asked, fluttering her lashes at him.

“I didn’t say that, cheerleader.”

“She’s the cheerleader tonight,” Courtney said, gesturing to Fame.

“I think we should go, but first…”

Pearl pulled a bottle of Captain Morgan from her bag.

“Heyyyy! Look at you, good for something for once,” Violet said, bumping Pearl with her hip.

“Should I go get some glasses?” Courtney asked.

“Glasses?” Pearl took a big swig of rum and passed the bottle to Violet. “What are you, the queen of England?”

“Oh my god, this is so unhygienic!” Fame said, wringing her hands.

“Does that mean you don’t want any?” Violet asked, holding the bottle out teasingly.

“No, I still want some.” Fame snatched the bottle from her hands and took a swig. “I guess alcohol kinda kills germs, huh?”

“Totally,” said Trinity, accepting the bottle and taking her swig, pushing Willam away with her other hand. “Wait your turn!”

Courtney was last to drink, and Adore watched her swallow down several shots worth before pulling the bottle away.

“Take it easy, bitch! We don’t want you passing out on us.”

Giggling, Courtney handed the bottle back to Pearl, then wrapped her arms around Adore’s neck and gave her a big smack on the cheek. Tati watched them, but before she had the chance to get uncomfortable again, Courtney pulled her in, kissing her as well. Maybe this really was just how she acted when she was all hopped up. Tati grinned and slung her arm around Courtney’s waist.

“So, are we doing another round?” she asked.

“Whoaaa...Virginia knows how to party!” Willam said, raising his fist up in celebration, chanting, “Round two! Round two! Round two!”

Adore’s eyes were superglued shut. That was the only reasonable explanation. She slowly, painfully pried them open, the hazy morning light hitting her like a freight train, making her squeeze them shut again.

“What the fuck?” she asked. Well, tried to ask. Her throat was parched and it came out sounding something like a hoarsely whispered, ‘Watafuh?’

What had happened last night? She remembered arriving at Courtney’s, already a bit buzzed, doing a few rounds of shots and heading with the whole group to Ganja’s. There’d been oppressively loud music thumping, a toxically strong bowl of murky orange punch, a crowded dance floor in her den, more punch...way too much punch.

The ground was hard and awful, and something was holding her down, making it impossible to move. She turned her head, peeled her eyes open a second time to see Courtney’s blonde head buried in her shoulder, red bandana now over her eyes, covered by a familiar crocheted blanket. Adore recognized the blanket, figuring out for the first time where they were.

Violet’s basement. When the fuck had they even come here? Violet lived far enough away from Laganja’s that they would have needed a ride. Unless...did they walk 30 fucking minutes in the middle of the night? She had vague, hazy memories of making her way with the whole gang through a green belt “shortcut,” and the pair of muddy shoes lying by her head seemed to support this. She squirmed on the hard concrete floor, trying to get whatever was holding her down off. Probably Courtney’s leg, although she couldn’t really tell…

A groan sounded from behind her and she turned to see Tati. It was her leg, apparently, and she was not too keen on being moved. Or being woken up. Or being alive, presently.

“Good morning,” Adore whispered. “I guess.”

Another groan came from Tati’s lips.

“Yeah, me too.”

Adore forced herself to raise her head and look around, realizing that they were halfway on the shag rug. Her friends all seemed to be in equal states of comatose, their costumes in shreds or half off or, in the case of Trinity’s bear hoodie, being used as pillows. Fame was curled up with Trinity in the armchair, Violet and Pearl sprawled on the sofa. Willam seemed to have gotten the worst of it, face down on the rug a few feet from them.

“Hey,” Adore nudged Courtney with her shoulder, jostling her awake. “Court...wake up.”

Courtney yawned, arms tightening around Adore’s waist before her eyes finally blinking open.

“Ohhh, where are we?” she croaked.

“I have no idea,” Tati said.

“Violet’s,” Adore informed them.

“How did we get here?”

“I dunno exactly but...can you make sure Willam’s alive? He looks like a corpse.”

Courtney forced herself into a sitting position to lean forward and give Willam a good shake. As she did, the blanket fell away and revealed her bare chest. Adore let out a little yelp, hand flying to cover her eyes.

“Jeez, Courtney, cover up! Why aren’t you wearing a bra?!”

Courtney laughed, pulling the blanket back up.

“I didn’t need one with this costume. Would you calm down, you’re such a prude,” she giggled.

Adore looked over at Tati, doing her best put-upon eye roll. But instead of commiserating, Tati shrugged, searching the ground for her purse.

“I better call my mom,” she said, brow furrowed. “Shit. Did I leave my bag at your house?”

“Oh, shit. There’s a landline in the kitchen. Come on, I’ll show you.” Adore took her hand, helping her up. There was a strange, faraway look in her eyes, and Adore squeezed her fingers, hoping to bring her back into the present moment.

She was rewarded, finally with a smile, making her shoulders drop in relief before guiding Tati towards the stairs.

#rpdr fanfiction #tree house kisses #scorpio #veronica #adorney #adore delano #courtney act #tatianna #adore x tatianna #high school au #lesbian au #implied smut #angst #fluff #miss fame #violet chachki #pearl liaison #willam belli #trinity k bonet

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human-zim · 5 years

Note

ok but like serious question umm? i rlly wanna be/make a zim-related rp blog but i dont exactly know how to start? uh sorry for the dumb question dude but do yall got any advice for me..?

You Cannot BE A ZIM unless you ARE ZIM! Seeing as I am ZIM myself, you CANNOT BE. Unless of course you are a LIAR. To each his own.

Now, ZIM-RELATED you say, is also impossible, as I have no relatives. Unless, of course, I am a LIAR. To each my own.

———————————

(((First of all I don’t want you to be afraid of NOTHIN that comes your way, not fear for the unknown nor fear of interacting with others in a pleasant manner. NOTHING matters if you’re not looking out for the number ONE (you). My advice is to JUST DO IT. That aside, I only got some basic shit to say but HOPEFULLY it will help you to organize your thoughts. This is gonna be long my bad

(1) Personally I think it’s a good idea to start by gathering the general aesthetics you want. Also personally, I tend to leave a lot of that TBD (to be discovered). But while that route offers flexibility, it can also lead to some momentary pursuits that you may regret later. Even the job description “loud and chaotic” has some guidelines.

(2) Idea: Think about how you want to go about characterizing your character. List some vocab words or concepts that reflect your intentions. Ex: Loud or passive? Sexy? Keeps-to-themselves, or assertive? If so, in what affairs? Naive? Pugnacious? Capable? Wordy, or laconic? Do they interact with others, or not much at all? Just keep that in mind as you do what you do.

(3) Idea: Think about what role YOU are going to play. For example, are you gonna break character a lot (y’know in those double parenthesis that people do when they’re just talkin as themselves), in the tags or otherwise? Or are you going to remain gloriously hidden behind the shroud of the screen, making your puppet appear the puppetmaster? The latter was my goal for this blog, I never wanted to get personally involved at all. I hate breaking character in these parenthesis because this is ZIM’S BLOG GODDAMNIT…but i still do it and that’s on me

Also: as it is your blog, think about your limits. If you have any, and if you want to be open about the fact that you exist, then feel free to list them in the bio or just keep them near. One good role that You play if you grant yourself a presence is the ability to moderate how others interact with you, by just lettin them know in the bio or the tags what’s what.

(4) Idea: Get your aesthetics in place! What kind of posts will you reblog - Productive or Puzzling? Visuals or texts? Does it matter? What will YOU post - words, pictures, stories, what? What would your character like? For example, I originally wanted this blog to reblog relevant posts, sometimes about aliens, but nothing good ever came up back then. Nowadays, ZIM here enjoys reblogging weird and out of context things (also Golden Girls) and making solitary textposts that serve as brief glimpses into the life of what must be a maniac. There is some continuity, but most things are said and then forgotten as the ferris wheel of his life whips him around for another go-around. Mostly, there is no logic to the madness. Think about what kind of vibe you want your characterization to give off, and let it develop over time.

(5) Idea: Decorate your blog! Think about what you want to convey.

Ex: this blog is a HARSH red and purple and a simple, yet awful, icon. The header image is just what it is. the title and whatnot is bullshit. This effect (whatever it is) was better put together when the autoplay (an instrumental of Oingo Boingo’s “Weird Science,” aptly titled “ZIM’s Theme” on here) was functioning, but the youtube audio that I had used got taken down and this stupid idiot asshole website wouldn’t let me edit the autoplay with the replacement vid back into the html bc it “wasnt compatible” so eat my ass i guess…sorry y’all I miss it too

Note: see a busted ass autoplay could potentially serve a purpose, had i wanted the aesthetic to follow a more twisted, broken, dismissive route, but ZIM here is Cocksure and Loud and SEXY and he’s not broken it is YOU who is the bastard…so yeah don’t be afraid to get metaphorical if you want

(6) Idea: ask others more qualified than I. I’ve seen everybody do it differently. Some people keep a very organized tag system with who they interact with. Others have a specific way that they handle replies (reblogs, start a new post and @ them, reblogs but have a cut-off point…?). Maybe you’d like some extra input on that. Go ahead and ask. They’ll be happy to answer, they’re RPers, it’s their job to reply. Personally, my only limit is to stop the reblog chain when it becomes a burden to scroll past. Then ZIM @’s them if he wants to keep the arguementConversation going.

Note: I never considered this blog an RP blog - in my words, it’s a “shitpost blog” - so I’m sure that there are things (customs, norms, taboos maybe) that I just flat don’t know about, but, maybe not. Regardless, if you’re uncertain, just follow others’ examples. Human-zim counts as an example bc it’s a free internet (for now) and you can do what you want

(7) Idea: Hopefully you know what your intentions (or motives, or reasons) are. If not then find them now I guess. Also, hopefully one or all of them is to HAVE FUN. just show up one day and do shit and make others deal with you. Get comfy while one ancient purple-hued blog with a strenuously grinning icon and a busted autoplay scrolls past all that nonsense on their dash real quick while wondering whether they, too, should make a post that day or not..

also remember that it’ll be rough at the beginning as you’re trying to get a foothold on the blog/character, but you’re free to go in any direction you choose as time progresses. So don’t worry if you hate how you start out, it happens to the best of us.

thanks for asking and I hope this helped xoxo….if anyone else has any input then don’t be afraid to add-on)))

#crayon-boi #long post

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imagines-mha · 5 years

Note

heya dude, could i get a matchup for haikyuu, n bnah? OK SO, i need a man who‘s into lolis bc even after way too many years i still look like a goddamn 12 yr old, so he has to be okay with the fbi busting through the door everytime he gets close to me 😔✊😔✊((JKJK but not really //CRIES)). i‘m super clingy and kinda possessive, the scorpio in me is SCREAMING- also i should prbly mention that according to my birthchart i‘m the biggest scorpio you‘ll ever meet?? (1/3)

please don‘t ask IT‘S BAD. yeah, if i like u and i decide that ur good enough to keep me from doing dumb stuff and getting into accidents (bc my situational awareness is = 0), i will pretty much follow u around like a smol duckling. i kind of get babied alot, but if im being honest, i actually enjoy it 8) LOL. i‘m a BIG SLUT for affection like,,, c,an we h,,h,,,hold hands?? cuddle?? kiss?? BUT im also a pretty cool noodle OK? my talent is to counter anything with a super smootj line ;). [2/3)

BIG INTROVERT RIGHT HERE, so loud parties with big crowds are a big nono here 8(. i‘m a sucker for cute cafés tho and just spending some good quality time together 8). i‘m also hecka short and even though it gets kinda annoying, it‘s perfect to hug other ppl bc everyone‘s automatically ur personal teddy huehue. me having 0 braincells makes me zone out alot and i‘m generally a big stupid beat. thank u for ur time and have a good day!! stay sexy n cool 8). xoxo gossip girl ;^) (3/3)

Dude. Imma be real for a moment i relate to u as a person sm i think we might be twins 😳😳 Also i look like a fuckin 12 year old too i feel u dude i hope u enjoy ur awesome love u 💫💕💕💫

HAIKYUU!!

I ship YOU with: BOKUTO

🖤 Listen my man. My bro. I was tempted to base this shit off star signs because i am one SLUT for astrology but damn naw i see you both making it work sorry stars xx. You both just seem SO alike!! It’s actually a MIRACLE

🖤 This man has no problemo with the fact you look like you’re 12 and you’re hella short. He LOVES to be your personal teddy and will 100000% baby you dude. Picking you up? Yes. Yeeting you playfully into the couch? YES. Y’all would make such a chaotically adorable relationship you would send the entire team into mom mode™️ to take care of you both. You both share a braincell and it can get you into danger sometimes but it’s all about the memories my dude 😎

🖤 He LOVES to go out with you. He has a secret soft spot, and you’d be able to make him weak to the knees with your smoothness/ even if it’s a joke. Also he’d just love goin to little cafes with you and having a little chat about life y’all would look like SO CUTE. He’s a party boi but if he saw a crowd that you didn’t like he would immediately just pick u up jetpack style and zoom u out of there. It’s not a party if his angel isn’t there.

MHA

i ugh u give me mad kaminari energy so i’m not gonna ship u with him just to spice it up a bit 😎

Listen ok i ship you with: SERO (damn ur a lucky gal cus u have to be GREAT for me to match my man up w u)

🧡 He’s the ‘mature’ one of the Bakusquad- or at least as mature as they get. I feel like he’d really like your appearance idk he loves the fact you’re so smol cus he’s a long boy u know he needs that little princess he can pick up and smooch and u could be that gal

🧡 Once he meets you he will devote ALL his love to you. He has so much of it to give and the boy will literally bring you flowers every day of the week what the actual fuck he’s perfect. If u don’t like flowers that’s ok cus he’ll substitute it w ur favourite food or something he’s amazing. Always has those inspiring and reassuring words to cheer u up

🧡 He’ll actually take such good care of you like he’s the 1 braincell you need. He’s so damn cuddly and affectionate and your company >> anyone else’s. He’d prefer to sit in with you and have big deep talks™️ than go out with the crazy ass bakusquad any day. He’s a softie too he LOVES a good café and you guys would just chill together there in your own lil world

#my hero academia #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu

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itsstarlightprincess · 6 years

Text

Recovery

Chapter one (prolonged)

Intro

According to Greek mythology, the first humans were created with four arms, four legs, four eyes, two noses and two mouths.Fearing of their power, Zeus split them in half, leaving them spend the rest of their lives searching for the other missing half.This kind of creatures were named soulmates.

I am one of the many others who believe in the concept of soulmates.I believe for each pot there is a lid and that is basically that.

However this legend is interesting and you can find it in many other cultures. Therefore knowing the legend I have asked myself many times, where is my other half and if the legend is true i why i haven’t met them in my 23 years of life, or have i?

I must admit life is tough and no matter how many times we tell ourselves that we are better off alone , I know that at the end of the day no matter if we are happy or sad and no matter how many people we are surrounded by, it’s nice to know that we have that special person who will never get tired of us.That person to whom we want to rant about the good and the bad things that happened to us the that day and what we ate and how we feel.A person who will always be there for us and stay loyal to us, love and respect us in sickness and in health.Is it possible to find a person like that nowadays or is it only a phenomenon ?

For many people luxury would be a a huge mansion, five cars, diamonds and pearls, servants, three bank accounts, private planes and more, however money does not make you happy, even richest people in the world would give everything up just to have love and happiness with a special person

Chapter one

It all began on Christmas eve.The most joyfull time of the year, when magic happens and Christmas spirit is in the air.Randomly i found myself lurking through the Fleetwood mac section in the CD store dowtown.Finally i found the CD I’ve been waiting for the last three months “Fleetwood mac rumours ”, to me personally it was the best CD that was ever made.I love Fleetwood Mac, I love Stevie Nicks and I love how they never fail to relax me after a stressful day and God knows I’ve been having a lot of those lately.My skin made contact with someone else’s hand as i reached for the only left CD copy of the album.Oh no! NO way I’ve waited for this for too long now.If I’m going to be alone on Christmas eve at least I’m going to be spiritually in the presence of Fleetwood mac.I was faster though.I grabbed the last copy of the CD without any remorse , and turned around to dinigh my business.

“Thanks for that by the way."The guy spoke from behind me

"You have a great taste in music, i got to give you that"He added again just as I was about to turn the corner

"Thank you"I replied without even looking at him.Again i really wanted this album so I didn’t felt any guilt as I basically stole it from his hand.

"That wasn’t a compliment you know"He added

"I-"I forgot what i was about to say as I took a look at him.He was breath takingly gorgeous.Tall, lean, brown hair peaking from beneath the red beanie he wore.His green eyes widened as he saw me.Does he know me from somewhere?

I don’t think so.I would certainly remember him if I saw him anywhere.His plump pink-ish lips opened as if he was about to say something but than he closed his mouth.

This is dumb.We are just staring at each other like two morons who come out from some stupid romantic comedy.

"Sorry.I didn’t mean to…It’s just that I’ve been waiting for them to get this CD for three months now."I replied finally.

"I-It’s fine I already have a copy of it.It was a gift for a friend but i suppose-Nevermind"He looked like he was just caught stealing cookies by his mother on a Christmas eve.

"Again I’m sorry but…"I replied

"It’s fine really.Umm…My name is Harry"He said while coming my way with his hand extended.

"Nice to meet you.Renee"I accepted his cold palm

"Your hand is really warm"Well that made me smile

"Yeah it is"I didn’t know what to say.This is the most handsome, awkward guy I’ve come across in a while and i like it

"You have an accent"He mentioned

"Yeah I’m originally from Croatia."It was funny how small the world is

"I like it.Uh, I’m sorry if I’m weird and shit but would you like to join me for a hot chocolate or coffee”

“I’d like to but I have this thing-"How could possibly get out of this?

"It’s the least you can do to make up to me"He added on a smile.Now i know he was doing the typical guilt card on me but, It’s Christmas and if I go home I’ll be home alone and it’s not like i have the greatest friends in the world to hang out with so it’s not like i didn’t think about walking out in the cold until i get bored or maybe Icould really take a chance.

"Ok"I smiled.His name is Harry and he invited me for a hot drink and I would’ve gone with him even if I had other things to do and he is gorgeous and looks familiar but i am 100% sure I’ve never met him so that’s that.

There was a small restaurant at the corner of the street.The walk there was silent and awkward.It was one of those moments when you really regret agreeing to something, though I caught Harry's stare a few times from the corner of my eye.Now I am not really sure if I should take that as a compliment or if he was just straight off a weirdo.After all he is just a stranger whom I think looks like a Greek God.

Oh lord, should I just text one of my friends or maybe even my parents as to where I'm at?Just in case...

When we got to therestaurant it was warm and we were sat at the table next to the window.The atmosphere was intimate, the light was dim and he was sitting closer than I would've expected him to.Instead of sitting across from me he was sitting right next to me and casually leaning into me when the waiter came to take our order.I never took myself as one of those women who got lost when speaking to some hot guy, but here I was on Christmas eve, sat in a restaurant with some guy who keeps saying something but I cannot understand a word that comes out of his mouth.

"I'm sorry what?"I am so dumb, he must think I'm some lunatic

"You dozed off.Anyway how's the pasta?"Oh right

"It's delicious.Don't you have anywhere else to be Harry?"

"Well, no."Simple as that

"You don't."Again it was awkward

"Tell me about yourself Renee.What are you doing here?You said you were originally from Croatia am I correct?"He asked while taking the white napkin to wipe at the corner of his lips.

"I am studying at the University and part time working at a boutique" He let a small laugh at my answer

"What University?"Oh..I much rather would be at home right now, cuddled up in a bunch of blankets watching some cheesy Christmas movie.

"Seattle University.I'm actually finishing my last year of studies."I said

"What are you studying?"He was looking at me with so much fascination, so much admiration.

"I'm studying English lit."As he was about to say something i started saying

"Listen I gotta go, I'm sorry here"I grabbed my purse quickly and pulled out a hundred dollar bill.It all happened so fast, my head started to spin.Harry was literally so stunned that the moment.Of course he asked what's wrong when i was already out of my chair and when he asked if it was something he did I wish, I wish I had the guts to tell him it's me and not you.To say how sitting next to him made me jump out of my own skin and the awkwardness was too much to handle.

I bet he is a nice guy and I bet I might have seen him someplace but right now I was on the verge of having a panic attack and I couldn't tell him that, so the natural reaction was flight instead of fight.

By the time I was a block down the street I heard my name being yelled.I didn't realize I was running until I saw him running my way.He was trying to catch up with me.Why?What was wrong with this guy?How damaged one must be to go after some stranger after they leave them in the middle of dinner without no further explanation?No, no he is not damaged.He just wants to make sure I'm fine.

"Give me a warning next time you decide to take off like that."I realize he was trying to make a joke but everything I wanted to say was already said in my head, in my mind and nothing came out of my mouth.My throat was tight, and my chest felt like it was going to explode, my lungs burned, but the only question was why the fuck did he case after me?

"I'm sorry, I can't stay I-"For God's sake I couldn't even finish my sentence.

"Fine."He said a bit angrier by now and than and there I wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault but all I did was turn the other way ready to escape from his presence.

"Just at least give me your phone number."He was holding my arm now

"Please"He added while slightly squeezing the top of my jacket sleeve.I wanted to escape, in order to escape I gave him my phone.It was like he knew something was wrong and not a game I was playing.His long fingers were starting to get red as he typed something in my phone until his rang and it was over.He handed me my phone and what happened next was the most unexpected thing anyone ever did to me.He hugged me tight.He hugged me and held me like I was a fuzzy teddy bear.Insted I was not.

Without a word exchanged or a spare glance I started walking the minute he let go of me.

........................

Please let me know what you think of this chapter. XOXO

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serverthoughts · 6 years

Text

Rant: I slapped my customer, while my manager held her down

Yesterday, I had this table who wanted a discount on her chicken salad, because the chicken “wasn’t cooked right.” Which is super weird considering she ate 90% of her chicken, and 80% of the salad.

I knew immediately when greeting this table, that we weren’t going to have a good time.

1) No one, no one interrupts my greeting. I don’t care if you’re a cheap college hoe that’s going to order water w/ lemon and chicken fingers. Or if you have 6 or more zeros in your bank account - You’re not going to interrupt me during my greeting.

The table interrupted me. Are we shocked? No.

I fetch their drinks for them, and they need more time. Cool, whatever.

I go cash out another table, and drop off food to my booth across from the table that needs more time. The lady with her shitty chicken had the audacity to call me over and tell me they’re ready to order, when I’m talking to my table who I just gave food to.

2) Don’t talk to me when I’m with another table. You’ll have your time with me, I promise. I have many tables that need my attention too. I know that’s a hard concept to swallow, but it’s true. I’m very perceptive of my tables most of the time, and can tell by your mannerisms that you want me to walk over to your table.

So please, for the love of God, don’t say, “Excuse me,” while my back is turned away from you. You’re being rude to me AND my other customers. Plus, when you do that, I’m going to treat you like a school kid and tell you firmly, I’ll be there shortly,” and make you feel stupid with my annoyed glare.

The table who is now ready for me to take their order is chicken lady, her mans, and her mother. Chicken lady is probably in her 50′s, so her mom is probably in her 70′s-80′s. I don’t know, I’m horrible at guessing ages, so that’s why I’m not a bartender.

Also, because I would hate having to talk to my guests like bartenders have to.

The mom of chicken bitch starts to order a steak, and tells me she wants it well-done. She asks me if it’ll come out tender. She doesn’t want it to be tough.

Which is totally weird to me, because if you don’t want a tough steak - don’t fucking order it well-done. You’re nasty. You’re eating shoe leather, basically.

I told her honestly that the steak probably wouldn’t be tender, since she’s ordering it well-done. Her daughter tries to convince her to get it medium-rare, and that the steak won’t be that red/pink.

Bitch, are you dumb? Is basically what I said, except I actually said, “Medium rare is a warm red center. It’s a lot a different than well-done.”

Shout-out Outback for this steak temperature guide. Just in case anyone else is as confused as “I hated my chicken salad, but I ate almost everything-bitch”

I tried to sell the mom on medium-well, but she was not into it. She decided she no longer wanted a steak, and wanted chicken. Not to get confused with chicken bitch, this is still the mom.

Unforunately, the chicken dish momma wanted, was not on the promotional deal that chicken bitch and herself wanted to order.

The mom ended up ordering a burger.

Can you guess the temperature? No? Need a second. Okay, take your time. I’ll give you a hint: It was not medium-rare.

Personally, there’s no reason in my mind for anyone to order a well-done steak. I don’t get it.

What was weird about this table is that the husband was chill as fuck, you could tell he was embarrassed of his mother-in-law and wife, and I kind of felt bad for him. But not bad enough to give him a free drink, because my mans (chicken bitch’s husband) didn’t stand up to his wife or MIL for me, so no free shit from serverthoughts.

Back to the reason why I named this woman, ‘chicken bitch.’

The lady was laughing when she spoke about wanting a discount, and I told her that I wish she would of told me sooner she didn’t like the chicken.

Maybe when I brought her extra dressing for her chicken salad she could of let it slip?? I don’t know, maybe that’s a crazy concept. She pointed out that I was busy over there, and pointed to the POS (our computers) where I had been standing legit three minutes before this conversation took place.

The reason I was not at her table three minutes earlier, when she had finished 90% of her chicken already.. Was because the take-out girl didn’t know how to ring in a gift card, so I walked her through it.

I’m sorry that I’m a trainer, lady, and my co-worker’s ask me questions and shit. I know this restaurant’s menu in more detail than I know anything in my life.

How sad am I? Sometimes I wish I could just tell you all where I work, so we could all talk shit about the restaurant together. I give you the dirt, and insiders.

Anyway, the two-minute check-back was created, for people like chicken bitch. I wait two minutes or two bites into your meal to see if you’re enjoying your dish - or need anything else.

I’m just a little confused why she failed to mention her chicken situation to me then, or when I gave her extra dressings.

Also, I gave her husband a diet soda five minutes after I gave them dressings, so I was clearly available throughout their meal.

I stared at chicken bitch with a blank face if she wanted me to ask for a discount, and she said yes. So I told her, “I’ll ask my manager, but we’ll see.”

I don’t give my tables discounts for dumb shit. You didn’t like your food, then you should of told me because I could have had a new dish made for you. But you want to play me and not say anything until you already ate most of it? Nah. I’m good.

Like, I’m sorry. You’re not going to come into my restaurant and start giving me demands. Eat your stupid chicken and be happy. Which she fucking did.

I told my manager what had happened and he decided he was going to be gracious and give the table 5 dollars off.

Attention readers: Being a cunt to your server is worth $5, y’all.

When my manager and I were walking out to the dining area (we were in the kitchen), he told me to look very serious when we walked out.

I’m not sure why he said that, but he’s annoying and I don’t like him, so whatever. Also, when we were still in the kitchen he said he wanted me to slap chicken bitch. That he would hold her down, while I slap her.

Honestly, GOALS. Manager goals, except I still don’t like this manager. For reasons I might talk about one day. It’s nothing big, I’m just a lazy hoe and adding this much detail about this table, is already a lot for me.

I need to sleep for 16 hours after writing this post, honestly. We love depression.

Honestly y’all, if you’re nice to me - I’ll probably forget to ring in a little dessert that I can get away with not ringing in. I’ll probably forget to charge you for your kid’s drink that your kid got, but didn’t order from the kid’s menu.

If you’re my regular, any drink that the bar doesn’t have to make, I won’t charge you for. You’re cool and you’re going to tip me bomb, so yeah, I’m technically stealing from the restaurant, but sometimes you need to have a little side hustle.

Did I forget to mention that it was the husband’s birthday? Chicken bitch asked me if I needed to see his ID, and I told her that I honestly didn’t care at that point. If it was her birthday, I definitely would have needed ID.

But her mans was sitting quietly, using his manners, so he can get a free dessert and separation from his wife. Except, my good man didn’t even eat the dessert. His wife had his free dessert, and I charged the mother for hers.

We don’t give freebies to asshole customers, sorry.

P.S. Our chicken is rubbery and gross, when it’s cooked by the AM cooks. I’m honestly pretty sure that’s why chicken bitch hated it, and I really can’t fault her for that.

I definitely wouldn’t order the chicken before 5 o’clock.

Xoxo,

serverthoughts.

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yaelsstory · 6 years

Text

Product Of A Murderer - Chapter 3

Summary: Yaël, a twenty-four years old girl with the powers to control the four elements, lost all her memories after a terrible incident. While trying to get her memories back, she somehow befriends Wade Wilson and Peter Parker. It’s a bumpy road, because after being gone for almost a year, everyone thinks she’s dead and there are many different reactions to her comeback. That …and while struggling to remember her life as it was before, she discovers that she isn’t who she thought she was. Maybe there are a few things she doesn’t want to remember at all… .

Note: This story is the third part of the Sweet Child of Mine-serie. You can read the other parts of this serie on AO3 on my account (Caspinn) or on my friend’s account (kalkoenvsneoklak).

If you want to read more about the story of Peter, Tony and Steve, you should read part one of the series: Being a Stark.

If you’re interested in the story of Natasha Romanoff and James “Bucky” Barnes, I suggest you to read part two of the series: Golden Locks, Silver Arms.

The next morning, Yaël got a call from Diego with the message that if she didn't show up today, she'd be fired. In compensation, she worked a lot of extra hours in the following few days. On Friday, when she finally got home, she took a shower and put her pajamas on along with her fluffy socks. Once seated on the couch she received a text from Wade. A bit ashamed for not texting him earlier, due to her long working days, she opened it.

- Yo, Sugarmuffin. Chasin the Squirrelgirl took me a few more days than I expected. Or maybe my decapitation did after I fell from a tree... on an electric fence. Ukno, the sort with the sharp pin-thingies on top? Like in a jail? Not that I ended up in jail during the 6 days we didn't see each other. Hehehe. Well, anyhow, I somehow ended up in Death Valley, ukno, that place with all the sand and rocks? It took me until 2day to grow back arms and hands, so now I'm able to text again. I'm still laying in the sand at the moment, since I still only have grown back baby legs... But I think I'll be back by tomorrow evening. So, what do u think? Wanna hang out?

Yaël grinned as she read the text. So, this man really couldn’t die? How was that even possible? Or was he joking? How does a man get immortal? She received a following text.

- Because I'm a mutant, you know, like mutated. Like, really badly mutated so I have this stupid face now

Then he send her a selfie, making a peace-sign with a freakishly small hand. In the background there was only sand and rocks, like he had said. Yaël typed an answer.

- How did you even know what I was thinking? Dude, so if I shoot you in the head, you still won’t die? I had a lovely date with X a few days ago and worked long shifts after that, but I think your life has been a bit more adventurous in the past few days. See you tomorrow, moron. Xoxo.

Yaël sighed as she put her phone away and jumped on her bed which bounced back a little. Maybe Wade was a few hundred years old?Did being immortal count as a superpower? Wait a minute, was she mutated too?

She should call Cap and ask him… Yaël used to discuss everything with the man, because it always seemed he had some kind of answer to all of her weird questions and his patience was golden. She could ask these mutant-questions to Wade too, but the whole point was that she missed calling Steve for the simplest things. And having a conversation with Wade could go anywhere instead of getting answers.

She wanted to call Cap as soon as she remembered him, but then she discovered Wade had been right. X and Fury were keeping things from her. When Yaël had asked X for Steve’s number, he had shaken his head.

No, I’m afraid I can’t let you do that yet. You see, everyone that once knew you, thinks you’re dead, X had explained.

Of course, Yaël had asked him why.

That’s a decision Nick made. I think he sort of wanted to test you, see what you are worth without anyone around you to influence you. Maybe he wanted to see your true colors.

But Yaël was smart enough to understand. Fury put her in a cage like a wild animal to see if she’d become the beast he thought she was.

Now, don’t get me wrong, I want you to see your friend again. I’d be a shame if we’d keep you separated, but I want to talk to Nick first. So that he has a chance to prepare Steve and the others, if he wants to.

So, everything was actually in Fury’s hands… Great!

To distract herself a bit from her frustrations against Fury, Yaël took her phone back and went on the Wi-fi of the hotel next to the apartment-building. She researched about rosin for her bow and checked the prices for a new cello again. She had already done that a few times and every time she was disappointed again in how pricey these instruments were.

Without knowing it, she must’ve fallen asleep, because suddenly she was standing in the woods again.

“Jesus, am I going to have these dreams daily now?” she mumbled to herself.

“That’s strange, your beliefs never laid with Jesus.” Yaël turned her head. There he stood, not Steve, but the black-haired man. He was wearing some kind of brown, worn cloak which covered his whole body, so she couldn’t see what else he was wearing underneath. She couldn’t even see his feet by the length of the thing. Yaël had the feeling that Steve wouldn’t enter these kinds of dreams anymore now that she remembered him.

“How would you know that?” she asked him after she remembered he had said something. The man just shrugged as an answer. “Okay, then who are you?”

The man’s lips turned a tint lighter as he pressed them together after that question. For a split-second, it seemed like Yaël hurt him. But then, a smirk ran over his face as he answered.

“That’s not important now. What is of importance is that you break out of that cage.”

“Why?”Yaël asked. Not that she wanted to stay in that glass box, of course. The guy lifted his eyebrow sarcastically.

“How fast do you think you can get your memories back when you’re stuck in a doghouse?” he asked.

Yaël looked around. The cage was sealed with another glass plate that also looked like it was unbreakable due to its thickness.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know how to get out?” she heard the man mumble bitterly. He made her feel dumb.

“I have the feeling this cage was specifically designed to keep people like me in. It’s protected against my powers, somehow, I think,” she whispered these last two words, as she wasn’t really sure why she thought all of this. The man sighed, but his face softened.

“They once were, in the real world, when you were really stuck in it. But this is a dream, remember that. You can manipulate it.” Yaël nodded. Yeah, he was probably right. The problem was, Yaël knew well enough that she wasn’t trained at all. Controlling her powers was a big challenge. But she had to try.

Yaël breathed on deeply and rubbed the palm of her hands against each other. It had been a long time since she had done this, from before the accident. She sped up and as she breathed out again, she opened her hands. At that exact moment she steered a massive amount of fire against the glass wall.

Flames shot around and rebounded from the glass. Within a second, Yaël had the feeling she turned the cage into an oven and she was getting baked in it. The smoke started to suffocate her as she tried to take the flames back.

“Not your smartest move, Yaël,” the man said dryly, but he did nothing to help her. After a struggle, Yaël got rid of the flames, but was still stuck with some smoke and she was oh, so cold from using fire as she used a lot of her own body temperature to create the flames. She coughed and rubbed her eyes. Her heart raced as she started to panic.

Stones, she was in a forest, there are stones and rocks. Her lungs itched as she stumped a foot against the bottom glass plate. She shoved her feet apart from each other and bended her knees. As she quickly launched her fist into the air, she heard the dirt outside the cage, in front of the man, split open. Calmly, he took a step backwards with his hands against his back, to stay out of the reach of the giant rock she pulled out of the ground, like he had seen her doing that trick a million times before.

Yaël made pulling movements with her arms, her hands were formed into fists. As she kept moving, the rock rammed and smacked against the glass wall. It made a few cracks, but it went way to slow. Yaël had trouble with breathing from all the smoke.

“It’s just a dream, you can break it!” the man yelled at her. She almost didn’t hear him, with all the noise the rock made while smacking against the glass.

Yaël’s eyes itched so badly, she felt tears running down her face. Being cold while standing in warm smoke was a strange feeling. Moving her fingers started to feel weird. All her instincts yelled at her, she needed to do something or she’d die in that stupid cage. With one hand, she kept knocking the rock against the wall, with the other, she wiped away her tears.

Her tears.

Within a second, Yaël was steering water into her hand, froze it in her fist into a sharp shape and started throwing these pieces of ice, one by one against the cracks she was making with the rocks she was steering with her other hand. To be able to keep making ice, Yaël needed to distract some water from her own body. Which made her, by the time the glass shattered into pieces, dehydrated, cold and exhausted.

Yaël expected to be smacked by a pile of falling glass so she bowed and put her arm in front of her face, but it never came. When she looked up, there was no glass, not even a splinter. It looked like there had never been a glass cage in the middle of the woods.

“Oh shit,” Yaël mumbled, she looked around while rubbing her sore hands and could finally breathe again.

“Told you,” the black-haired man said proudly from behind her. But she didn’t hear him. There was another man, she just saw him when she turned around to search for any sign of the cage that had just caved in. He was sitting on the chair Cap sat in last time in her dream, when he was guarding her.

So it seemed this man was guarding her too, but he didn’t notice the missing cage, like it was still there, like Yaël never even used her powers. He just sat there, frowning at the screen of his tablet. It reminded Yaël to her last dream, when Cap didn’t notice the rain. Maybe her memories overlaid in this dream-world, but it was freaking confusing her. What parts of this dream belonged together? The man had dark hair, a goatee and dark eyes. His knee went up and down nervously.

Yaël heard something to her right and saw… another man. Great. He looked like a professor that needed a big coffee. He had a stubble, like he hadn’t shaved in a few days. His brown eyes looked tired and his hair was turning grey.

Yaël thought she saw something move to her left this time. She immediately knew who it was: the read-haired woman. She had seen her in the memory of Steve she had during the session with X. The professor also had shown Yaël a picture of the redhead. The woman looked at her nails for a moment and then crossed her arms. She shone out arrogance, but it made her look kind of badass.

Yaël scratched her head, she was a bit surprised. “Why are there suddenly so many of you?”

Everyone looked up, a bit confused, except for the cloaked man. He was the only one who reacted.

“We are all different paths, different memories you can chose to follow. You can choose who you want to follow tonight.”

Somewhere Yaël heard knocking.

“Will everyone come back next time after I followed someone in this dream?”

“I’m not sure… but…” The man looked confused and stared to the sky, like he was searching for something. Did Yaël just hear her name somewhere? He looked back at her and threw her a sad smile. Yaël frowned at him, blinked and when she opened her eyes, she was staring at the ceiling. For a second, Yaël felt dizzy from the sudden change.

“YAËL, GET UP AND OPEN THA DOOOOOR!” she heard a familiar voice yell from the hallway, crawled out of her bed and stumbled towards the door. “Yaël, sweet muffinpoodle!” Wade said as she opened the door. He immediately hugged her, but he hadn’t grown back to his full height, so he planted his face between her breasts. Yaël somehow had the feeling he had planned that, as he didn’t retract for a few seconds.

“Has your brain been ripped out too?” Yaël growled as she walked backwards into her apartment and shut her door while Wades face was still planted against her chest. Wade mumbled something. “What?”

As he finally let her go, he said “I just missed you!”

“Is that why you’re so early?”

“My legs suddenly had a growth spurt.” He grinned. “Oh, and I brought you something, because your hair really looks like shit…” he mumbled while digging into his ninja-turtles bag.

“Thanks,” Yaël answered sarcastically “I haven’t had any money to take care of it.” Wade was right. Yaëls blue hair was turning lighter and lighter and her darker hair started showing again at the roots.

Wade finally found what he was looking for: a bottle of hair dye. He raised his hand, holding the bottle, with full glory. Yaël raised an eyebrow.

“Wade… you bought purple dye,” she stated. Wade nodded enthusiastic.

“Cool ammiright?”

“My hair is blue,” she continued.

“Yaël, sometimes you need some change.”

“Do you see how much hair I have? You can’t do it all with one small bottle of paint!”

“Oh…” Wade looked a bit disappointed at his bottle. Then he looked back at her with a wide grin “Let me try it!”

“No.”

“We can binge-watch a series while I’m taking care of you. I have,“he started digging in his backpack again and pulled out some DVD’s, “Grey’s Anatomy, Supernatural or Rick and Morty!”

A few episodes of Grey’s Anatomy and Supernatural later, Yaël stepped into the shower to rinse her hair. When she got back out and dried it with a hairdryer, she grinned widely. Wade somehow managed to make the purple blend into the blue, so her hair was half-purple and half-blue. At some random places, the purple stood out more and on other places, blue, but Yaël thought it looked pretty cool for being an experiment.

Wades eyes shone like the eyes of a little girl when she stepped out of the bathroom. He was almost back at his normal length, Yaël noticed as he stood up.

“You need a cute name, like the characters from My Little Pony! Because girl, you look like an adorable, tasty cupcake.” He said while he was checking her hair.

“Are you flirting with me?” Yaël wiggled her eyebrows and smirked.

“What?! Hell no! Eew. My heart belongs to Parker and Parker only, girl.” Wade saved himself with some arrogance. “By the way… I’m going to invite Peter to join us this evening,” he added quickly. Yaël rolled her eyes.

“Oh, poor boy…” she mumbled.

“Yeah, so maybe you should put on some clothes,” Wade told her. Yaël looked down. She was still walking around with only a towel bound around her body from getting out of the shower.

“What? Are you afraid Peter will be attracted to me instead of you?” Oh, Yaël loved teasing her raisin-friend.

Yaël got herself dressed and a few hours later, after ordering some pizza, she heard a knock on the door.

“You go,” she said as she pointed at Wade “You invited this innocent soul, now you let him in, nah!” Wade jumped up and danced towards the door. Yaël put out the TV . She had seen enough of hospitals and the Winchester for today.

“Parker and pizza, best combination ever!” Wade joked, but he didn’t get a smile back. Instead, the teenager looked somewhat grumpy. He probably wanted to fill his evening differently, but he was trapped by Wade now. Peter dropped the pizza boxes on a small table that was meant as a post-table, but Yaël never got any mail, so it was permanently empty.

She saw the teenager stare at her hair while mumbling something to Wade about bringing his own pizza so he’d have something to eat if Wade started to probe him.

“You like it?” Yaël asked after Wade reacted fake-insulted by bringing his hand to his mouth.

“It’s artsy,” Peter answered a bit doubtful. He looked so uncomfortable that Yaël automatically threw him a wide grin. She stood up to get her box of pizza and planted her butt on the couch again with her feet on the small table in front of her.

“Hey, Petey, think fast!” Yaël looked up to Wade, who had yelled, while nibbling on her pizza. She was trying her best to keep the cheese out of her hair.

There he stood with a cheeky, almost evil-looking grin on his face and… her plates in his hands, which he was already throwing at Peter. What the actual f- HER PLATES!

Yaël dropped her pizza and made a movement with her hands. This way, she used air to make the plates fly over Peter instead of flying right in his face. The boy also seemed to have massive reflexes as he jumped back from the plates and before Yaël even noticed Wade pulled out a gun, Peter already had jumped up. Wade started shooting at the boy’s feet and out of reflex, Yaël stomped her feet. The tiles of her floor flew into the air. Using her powers, Yaël built a wall with the tiles. This way, she used it as a shield for her and Parker.

Wade lost his senses, Yaël was sure about that. Why would that freaking psycho start shooting at this boy?! With a few steps, Yaël put herself and her shield in front of Peter. Yaël checked on the teen, hoping he wasn’t hurt. Her mouth fell open and she stared at him, hanging on a wall like he pasted his hands and feet to it.

Okay, so, whatever. Peter Parker is a sixteen years old boy who can climb and stick to walls. Yaël surely didn’t saw that coming, but that was the least of her worries at that moment. She focused back on Wade.

While she was still keeping her wall of tiles up with her hand, she simply stared at Wade, more specifically at the hand that was shooting around and aimed with her other hand.

“Hey!” Wade yelled as his hand froze. Yaël was perfectly capable of steering this power without using her hands, but using them was easier and made her more in control of her powers. Fire and water she could steer the smoothest. She could use these with just a blink of her eyes. Earth or stone was a bit harder, because of being a literal hard element. With this element, she always needed to move a limb as it felt heavy to manipulate this element. But air… that was a complete shit-element. Whatever she did with it, it always ended with a struggle, a fail or tiredness.

So after using air to change the course of the plates a bit so they wouldn’t fly into Peter’s face (she couldn’t even steer them to softly land on a table or shoot them back or anything), and after using it together with earth to make a shield for so long, she felt completely drained. She was trying her utter best to land the tiles back on their place, but some of them just fell and clattered against the floor, so she just let go of the air and fixed them quickly by using her earth-powers.

Peter and Wade didn’t even notice her clumsiness, because while struggling with the tiles, Yaël had already frozen Wade up to his neck without even noticing it. Yup, that’s exactly why Fury said she wasn’t trained enough. She quickly stopped the freezing procedure. Wade looked at her sheepishly, but she didn’t feel sorry.

Who did this guy think he was, tossing her plates around and shooting holes in her floor like that? Maybe Fury should pay him less after this act of insanity.

“What the hell is going on?!” she barked at him. She might be exhausted after trying to use her air-powers, but this man made her freaking rage! Yaël really didn’t have the money to buy new plates or to pay Peter’s hospital bills if he’d get hurt.

“Well, he’s Spider-Man, of course!” Wade said it like it was an obvious fact, like those words would justify his actions. Well, Wade could go screw himself.

“So, what? You just decide to throw my plates and start shooting at my floor to proof that this guy can swing from one building to another? There are other ways to do that, Wade!” Yaël barked, Wade flinched a bit.

Yaël was still giving Wade a death-glare as Peter asked: “I just want to know how you figured it out?” He looked confused and a bit stressed out. Was the Spider-Man-thing supposed to be a secret? Yaël understood, she didn’t want the whole world to know what she was capable of either. And Wade just gave away this boy’s biggest secret.

“I just know things; how’s MJ by the way?” Wade asked casually. He was way too relaxed for someone who just almost got frozen to death. On the other hand, Yaël knew she couldn’t have killed him. But right now, she wished she hadn’t stopped freezing him, so his head would be frozen too, because he didn’t look sorry at all.

“Who’s MJ?” Peter asked.

“Oh, you haven’t met her yet? Come on, I want pizza. Yaël, get me out of here!” He tried to wiggle his way out of the ice, but that was impossible. He’d have to wait until Yaël freed him or until the ice was melted.

And Yaël wasn’t going to help him. She took her box back from the table and sat down in her sofa again, signing at Peter to follow her. While they were eating, Wade made enough noise to talk for the three of them. He whined about his pizza and being hungry.

If she could just call Steve and rage about this new friend to him, because Wade surely still was her friend. Yaël was sure she’d find it hilarious tomorrow. And Wade was her only friend at this point. Was Peter a friend? Does kidnapping someone make you friends? Well, if Peter wanted to leave, he could, Yaël wouldn’t stop him. But he stayed, which made her kind of glad, because she didn’t want him, the only normal guy in her company right now, to reject her.

Yet, having a Steve would be fun too. He’d be so mad at Wade, well, he would’ve preached to the psycho until Wade would’ve fallen asleep or something. But right now, her dear friend still thought she was dead…

As Wade was still being grumpy about his pizza and rambled just to annoy them, Yaël took a look at Peter. He was just staring at the wall with glassy eyes, while eating his pizza.

“There’s something on your mind,” Yaël noticed. Oh, did she just say that out loud? Maybe she shouldn’t have said that, she didn’t want to break into the guy’s privacy. She saw Peter turn a bit in his seat, he looked so extremely uncomfortable that Yaël wanted to tell him he could ignore her statement, but he answered instead.

“I-I just don’t know you guys. Nobody’s supposed to know, but yet here we are, Wanda knows, you know. I wonder who else does.” Who’s Wanda? Whatever, Yaël wasn’t supposed to know this boy’s secret and now she did, thanks to dickhead Wade.

“There’s that old guy in the restaurant, with his moustache!” Dickhead Wade pointed out. Yaël cocked her eyebrow and glanced at him as a sign that he should shut up with his weird answers that no one understood. And then she got an idea, a way to make Peter feel better.

“You know, they send this idiot to me because they figured I need friends?” Yaël pointed with her thumb to Wade, who acted like he was offended, but nobody cared.

“Who are they?” Peter asked friendly.

“Two men, they introduced themselves as Professor X and Nick Fury.”

Peter’s eyes grew bigger “No way! You know Nick Fury and Professor X?” First,he spoke a bit louder and faster out of excitement, but then… he started rattling.

“Everybody’s heard of them, Nick Fury is like the most secretive guy-“

And he’s a complete ass, Yaël thought, but she didn’t interrupt Peter

“-we even thought him dead for long until he showed himself again during that Ultron-disaster! But Professor X! Man what’s it like, having him in your head?”

“Well,” Yaël scratched her head “It’s weird, man. He helps me remembering stuff by triggering my memories or something like that.” Peter lifts an eyebrow to Yaël, but it was Wade who explained it to him.

“Her brain’s scrambled and she doesn’t remember a thing.” She remembered Steve, but he might not remember her anymore, she thought sadly.

“I just figured out my dad wasn’t really my dad, and there’s a slight possibility that my real dad is still alive, and now I’m waiting for the DNA results,” Peter suddenly said. Did he say it to make her feel better about her mind-error?

Somehow, Yaël had the feeling that this boy couldn’t talk about this problem to anyone. It must be so damn frustrating, waiting to find out who really is your dad. But on the other hand, the way he spoke sounded like the man who had raised him, had died. So maybe, just maybe, if he finds his real dad, the man can be his new father figure.

Yaël sometimes missed someone like that, or someone like a big brother, like when she had troubles with the drains, or when she didn’t know what to read or what to play on her cello. Yeah, it must be great to have someone to fall back to.

But Yaël wasn’t naïve, she knew that if Peter figured out who his real das was, it still didn’t mean the man would take care of him or even want to know him. This man wouldn’t make Peter’s life all rainbows and cupcakes, per se. But when Yaël looked at his young face with eyes that show that the boy has already been through a lot, she could only be optimistic for him.

“Wow, but if he’s your dad, that’s kind of great, right?” she asked with a big smile. But Peter just shrugged.

“I’m not sure I want to know the answer to it,” he answered. Then he stood up, whiping his pants so that he was clean from pizza-crumbs. He was ready to leave, Yaël noticed, as she saw him looking around for his backpack.

“Well, if you want a daddy so badly, you can call me ‘dad’. Daddy Deadpool, wouldn’t that be great?” Wade suddenly said with a grin. Yaël sarcastically slapped her forehead after that. She did her best to keep her face straight, because she didn’t want to give Wade the pleasure to see her laugh at his dumb joke. Wade was still punished for being an aggressive dick, after all.

But Parked seemed shocked. Yaël had thought the boy would be used by Wades jokes by now. The boy seemed like he was boiling.

“Deadpool?!” He groaned. “Out of all people that have to stalk me, it has to be the one who would be able to send me to an early grave.” Oh, so that was his problem.

“Hey, I take that as an insult!” Wade shouted back. But Peter just ignored him with a hard face.

Oh, boy. Yaël needed to find something to distract these two before they’d kill each other. Not that Deadpool was able to move, nor did Peter look like someone who easily killed people.

“Hehe, funny, you both have superhero names!” Yaël muttered. Wow, nice work, Yaël, she thought sarcastically. Peter threw her a questioning glance and it was Wade, of course, who got distracted immediately.

“Yeah, cool, right? We should team up, become Spideypool!”

Peter shook his head “No way, are you even a hero?”

“And what if she joins us?” Wade nodded to Yaël, ignoring Peter’s biting question, still frozen like a popsicle. Yaël saw the curiosity in Peter’s eyes as he turned to her, also a bit distracted now, just a bit.

“Well, what’s your, eh, other name?” he asked.

“I don’t have one.” Yaël said. She didn’t want some kind of special name either.

“Why not?” Peter lifted an eyebrow.

“I’m not a hero, Peter. I work in gardens and play cello on the streets.”

“But you can be one, with powers like yours!” What could Yaël say? That she didn’t feel like a person to look up to? That she had the feeling she has done some horrible things in her past? She was no example, no hero. Yaël couldn’t even fully control her own powers.

“-the Mighty Sorceress, or The Element, or maybe The Rainbow Pony, or…” Wade’s chatter about finding a fitting name for Yaël pulled her out of her thoughts. Peter was even smiling a bit. What a weird group of friends have they created.Yaël grinned. Yes, Peter clearly had become a friend.

“You pay me new plates!” she growled at Wade as soon as Peter had left. She wasn’t finished with Wade just yet. It surprised her that nobody came knocking on her door yet to check if she was still alive after all the noise of gunshots and shattering plates. But she guessed everyone just minded their own business in this building. They hadn’t come on between when they heard her neighbor had fought about drugs with a dealer in the hallway, either. Luckily, only a few of Wade’s shots got through the floor, but Yaël didn’t know how to explain this all to Fury. He’d be so pissed.

Wade nodded quickly. “Yes, my German butterfly, I’ll buy you the fanciest plates ever made.” He answered her demand with some fear in his eyes. Yaël wasn’t sure if he was acting or not, but she didn’t care.

#oc #peter parker #spiderman #Steve Rogers #captain america #tony stark #iron man #stony #deadpool #wade wilson #professor x #Charles Xavier #Nick Fury #norse mythology #The Avengers #memory loss

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kleinsensongbash · 7 years

Text

Can’t Sleep Love by Pentatonix

Written by Lissy (well-of-night on tumblr) in collaboration with the lovely Ashley (smashleyed on tumblr). This work wouldn’t be possible without you beta-ing me, thank you so much! xoxo

Tell me, am I going crazy? I have gone absolutely bat-shit insane. I thought this brand of crazy could only found in one Mr. Probably-A-School-Shooter Connor Murphy, but nope! I’ve literally never been this wrong in my entire life. It all started, as most things do for me, as a joke. I had stupidly decided to drag Evan to a small party a friend of a friend of an acquaintance of Alana’s was having. It would satisfy Heidi’s desire for Evan to go out more, and Evan would keep me sane until I found some booze. It was a win-win for everyone, you know? Well. Except Evan. The poor dude gravitated to the first empty seat he could find as soon as we got there, and I don’t really think I saw him for most of the party, which was fine, I guess. So I was sitting in this circle of idiots who have fun with party games, especially drinking games. Booze should be fun, and I always start the games, so I’m kind of the captain of these idiots, even if they don’t accept me as their amazing leader because they barely know who I am when they’re sober. Which is fine. Drunk party friends and regular sober friends shouldn’t ever mingle anyway. We were playing truth or dare. If you were too coward to fess up or do your dare, you drank. If you did your dare or told your truth, your challenger drank. I was pretty smashed, so everything I said and did was pure stupidity. But then again, when is it not, right? It fell upon Zoe Murphy to challenge someone, and she naturally picks me, the awesome team leader who hadn’t been picked at all yet. But Jared, you may be asking, how were you drunk if no one had picked you to challenge or anything? Well, I had made up my own side drinking game. Basically, whenever I felt too sober, I took a shot. That did the trick pretty well. So Zoe picks me and she puts up an offer that I couldn’t refuse, sober or drunk. “I’ll give you a truth and a dare. If you can do both, I’ll drink and give you a twenty.” she said, her eyes sparkling with something I’d call devilish delight. I didn’t even think twice. Hell, I didn’t think once. I accepted gleefully, not even considering that maybe she had a plan or something. “Truth or dare,” she prompted, and I very stupidly but very proudly said truth. She grinned at this, as if she anticipated my answer. The Murphys are fucking weird, I’m just saying, so maybe she did know what I’d pick first. “Would you date Evan Hansen?” she asked. Now that I look back on it, she was pretty drunk too, and the circle had been conspiring for a while without me really giving it much thought. So this was a group effort. Not just a Zoe Murphy thing. Probably. A shitty group thing to do, really, since it’s got me re-evaluating my entire fucking life. It was at this point I kind of gave Evan a glance. He was cowering in a corner, except he was on a sofa that was nowhere near the corner of the room. He was doing something on his shitty off-brand phone, probably playing SNAKE, knowing his social life. Now. anyone with a brain could probably tell that hell yes, I would. Anyone with a brain could tell you I adored Evan. Maybe it was because of how I totally zone out while he’s talking about trees and try to draw constellations on his faces using only his freckles and my mind, and my face maybe looks a little dumb while I do it. A smart person would be able to identify that I was super into Evan Hansen, what with my insisting on hanging out with him and asking him about trees just to get him going, or how I say stupid shit just to get him all red in the face… Any smart person with even something akin to one brain cell would know I was super gay for Evan and that my gay ass just didn’t notice it. And, well, I think we all know by now, I am not the smartest in the bunch. My drunken self, however, did not go on to reevaluate his entire existence until he was sober, which is right now. No,no, drunk me grinned. Drunk me beamed and slurred, “yeah, I guess, he’s pretty cute.” Zoe Murphy grinned, and it was almost like watching Satan himself smile up at me. “Now, I dare you to go tell him that.” And me, being the stupid broke ass I am, stumbled to get up, and waltzed over to Evan. Now, this part of the night is a little tricky. It was shortly after this that shit gets blackout drunk kinds of foggy. But I remember asking Evan how he was, and he stuttered back a very uncomfortable lie about how he was good and what not. The only thing I remember clearly is his reaction. I don’t know how I worded it, or if I even said it, but all I remember is Evan turning bright red. His eyes wide and his mouth agape, ready to say something that he’d never say. Or maybe he did say. And all I remember thinking before shit got foggy was how fucking adorable he looked all stunned and red-faced like that. Now, a week ago, if you had told me I would be realizing how deep I was in this, this gay-for-Evan-Hansen-hole, I would’ve called you crazy. I would’ve said, “fuck you, man, I’m a gay asshole but not like that!” or something dumb. I mean, I’m gay as fuck. I own fourteen different kinds of pride flags, for fuck’s sake. But I just got over a hangover and the first thing I fucking realized after that migraine went away and I could actually function again was something I’d never picture myself thinking or saying or even feeling. I’m gay for Evan.

Am I just afraid of loving? Okay, so after that weird gay revelation, I’ve been, like, avoiding Evan. It’s super shitty of me, but fuck! What am I supposed to do? Just prance around, hanging out with Evan like I hadn’t called him cute while smashed at a crappy teen kegger and holding myself back from telling him how nice he looks in blue, the color he wears basically every day? Fuck that. I’m basically running from my gay thoughts, and I’m already winded as fuck. I’m no athlete, believe me, and somehow even metaphorical exercise is tiring. Note to self: do something about that. It’s been like a week-ish since the party, and I haven’t talked to Evan “Ecosexual” Hansen since. Ecosexuals are apparently people attracted to trees, I saw an article about it. Almost sent it to Evan, just for shits and giggles. But then I remembered that would be a shitty thing to do after a week of not talking to him. I have about 117 unread messages from Evan– oh shit, scratch that. As of not even five seconds ago, I’ve got 118 unread messages from Evan. He hasn’t stopped texting me since the party. I’ve seen the little previews, it’s all “Are you okay, Jared?” “What did I do, Jared?” “Please text me back I’m worried, Jared.” This is actually hell. But, honestly? What am I supposed to do? I don’t want to chase him off with all my gay shit, even though he knows I’m gay. But you try telling a straight guy you’re gay for him! He’ll probably tell me to fuck off or something, in the way only Evan could: kind of polite and super terrified, and that’s the last thing I want. Because, you know, I still want to be his friend and all. I give him shit but I like having him around, you know? Telling him I like him would be a lose-lose situation anyway. Maybe I just need to cool off some more. Maybe in another week, I can pretend I don’t think Evan’s laugh makes me want to a punch a wall so I can feel something besides butterflies in my stomach because fuck his laugh is the cutest thing and… where was I going with that? Oh yeah. If I pretend hard enough, maybe we can hang out again. I’ll shove my shit so far into the closet, it’ll be having tea with Mr. Tumnus in Narnia. Because I can’t like Evan like that, he’s my friend, my family friend to make matters worse! That shit’s off limits, it’s like trying to date your cousin, and I’m way too up north to even be thinking about that shit. Whoops. There goes messages number 119 and 120. I really should text back, he might have a fucking panic attack by the time he reaches 150, if he hasn’t already. Maybe I can just tone it down with the whole liking him thing, it can’t be that hard. It’s not like he’ll figure out I wasn’t joking, because that’s me! Always joking! My initials are literally JK, just kidding, I mean… I can play it off as a joke. I have to because the alternative is telling him and I don’t think I can handle that rejection. I have to play it off as a drunken joke. I’ve just gotta be insanely cool about it. Just… chill out and pretend I’m not into him like that. I’m gonna text him back now, something like “yeah, dude, I’m okay, didn’t see your messages, all 120 of them! Haha weird right?” Well, maybe not that last bit. I’ll make up some bullshit excuse like “Oh, my phone was on silent” and play it so cool. So very cool. I think I can do this.

Keeps me up all night I can’t fucking do this. I thought it’d be super easy to just pretend, just like I do with all the other shit in my life, but nope! Not happening! Fuck! My little “fake it till I make it significantly less gay” plan lasted not even a week. It was going good, you know? I was hanging out with Evan at school, we talked like normal, whatever. And then on Thursday, he asked if he could sleep over Friday. He was all stuttery and red and wouldn’t stop messing with his shirt, so I said “sure, why not, I’ve got nothing to do.” Which was a lie because I’ve got so much fucking homework but… I mean, Evan almost never asked to hang out! This was such a rare thing, I had to jump on it. I wish “it” meant his dick, but alas. BAD JOKE, I KNOW, NOT AT ALL HELPFUL TO IGNORING MY GAY SHIT, MOVING ON. So for the rest of that day, I was super stressed. I even cleaned my room that night, and I unearthed my Wii so we could play some Mario Kart and I even found my SD card with Project M on it (the superior of all the Smash games, and it isn’t even really Nintendo!). I went to bed at like 9, which is… pretty fucking early on my standards, especially on a school night. What can I say? I just wanted it to be Friday already. I swear to fuck, I walked into school and all I remember is Evan. Walking to class with Evan, Evan talking about some tree or something, Evan asking me if he could just come right to my house with me… I was super zoned the fuck out. I don’t know if it was because I actually got sleep for once, or because my brain thought: Hey, you know how to make the sleepover come faster? Space the fuck out! It’s foolproof! (I’m writing this on my school computer so if I get fucking blocked for writing about an idiot’s gay crush on a guy who likes trees more than he probably likes his “family friend”, I’m suing) The school day ended as quickly as it started, and I walked out of class and pretty much crashed into Evan. Which is fucking weird, because he was supposed to be on the other side of the school and the bell had just rung. Not even he was that fast a walker. But whatever, he was there. He probably got out of class early or some shit, who knows how, it’s not like he had the balls to ask a teacher to let him go to the bathroom, let alone leave class early. Anyway. We walked together to my car, and at some point between my class and the main exit, Evan had latched onto me, his hands grasping lamely at my sleeve, and it’s not that I minded it at all, because he was probably just grounding himself or some weird Evan shit, but I kind of needed to get my keys and he was just preventing that from happening. I said something like “Can I get my arm back?” in my playful, not-trying-to-be-an-asshole way, and he dropped my arm like it was fucking on fire. He stuttered out an apology as I got out my keys, typical Evan shit. I let him know it was okay, with a “whatever” or a “it’s cool”. This shit happened like 12 hours ago, so excuse my lame ass for not having word for word accounts of what went down. We got to my house, I offered him something to eat, same old routine as always. He rejected my offering of food, I urged him to fucking eat something, he eventually did. We ate Totino’s pizza rolls because I’m a fucking sellout. And then we went up to my room, and I shit you not, all we did was play video games. For fucking 10 hours. Well, that’s bullshit. We sat around and talked too, when Evan was complaining about his hands cramping up from playing. He told me he was happy we were hanging out like this, I agreed. I asked him how therapy was going, and he mumbled an “okay I guess”. I didn’t even realize it was Saturday until Evan fell asleep. He had gotten tired of playing, and we were just sitting on my bed, so I was playing on my computer and he was watching. And then I felt his weight kinda shift and his head? Was on my fucking shoulder. Like. Fuck. I kept playing, though! What else was I gonna do? Tell him “hey bro get your head off my shoulder it’s giving me a case of the Gays”? No! And then I heard him snoring. It wasn’t any of that bullshit loud snoring, but this soft, barely audible snoring? That’s when I got the sense to check the time. It was fucking 2am. No wonder he passed out! He was like an old lady, he always slept at 10 or some shit. And he didn’t even say anything! So. We arrive at the present. In which I am too scared to move because I might wake him up. he’s really warm. I’m so tired, but I can’t go to sleep because I’d have to get up and put my laptop away and then get comfortable and that’d probably wake his ass up. plus, he looks so peaceful I’m not sleeping tonight, am I? Oh well, whatever. It’s worth it as long as he sleeps well. What the fuck is my problem, oh my God. I can accept being super gay for Evan, but c’mon. I gotta draw the line at “giving more of a shit about his sleep than mine”. I deserve sleep too. But maybe just for tonight… I’ll pull a fucking all nighter. Just for tonight, and just because Evan passed out on me. This is a one-time thing. He will not keep me up all night every night! Jared Kleinman deserves his fucking sleep!

I can’t do it anymore Dear Evan Hansen, Today’s going to be a good day and here’s why. You woke up with Jared next to you. Not in a creepy weird way, but… you fell asleep on him? And he passed out and fell back and you went along with him so you kind of were cuddling and it- It felt really nice. I came to terms with how I felt about Jared a long time ago, but never wanted to act on it. But I was too obvious, people noticed, people like Zoe noticed. Then the party happened. I didn’t want to go, but Jared almost begged me to go and I just ended up tagged along. But then he got hammered. I’ve never been a fan of alcohol? It messes with the medication and all, so it’s something I steer clear of. Jared was off playing some dumb drinking game, ignoring me, and I was plotting an escape, estimating how long it would take me to walk home. And then Jared stood up from his game and stumbled over to the sofa where I had been sitting. “Hey, Evan,” he slurred, and the smell of his gross booze breath made me gag.”How you doin?” I shifted a bit in my seat, because the correct answer was awful, I only came to hang out with you and instead I’m hanging out with the sofa in a house full of drunk people who probably hate me why am I even here Jared? So, instead, I managed a “I’m doing okay. And you?” He grinned. “M good… okay, so, Zoe wants me to tell you that I think… you’re really cute an’.. I’d totally date you.” It suddenly felt like 20 degrees hotter, my hands got all clammy and my face heated up. “Jared, you’re drunk,” I said, and he just laughed. “Hi, drunk, I’m gay,” he responded, which made zero sense, but- This was the problem, being around Jared. I can never tell what’s serious and what’s a joke and it is just so upsetting because maybe he’s kidding when he insists we’re just family friends but what’re the odds of that, you know? I never had the best luck with people, not even Jared. He’s something else, I think. Deep down, he’s not the worst, but…it’s hard to tell when he’s joking or not. After the party, he kind of avoided me? I got a little… worried. I couldn’t stop texting him. I thought, at the time, maybe I did something wrong. Maybe he was hurt and, and it was freaking me out. He did eventually answer me, and we went back to normal but not really. I caught him staring at me a lot, which wouldn’t have happened if I hadn’t been staring at him first. I have no idea what that’s even about. My therapist suggested I hang out with Jared, so I kind of invited myself over. And now I’m just.. in his room. He’s making breakfast, I think I hear him humming and everything. I have never thought I could read Jared that well, he’s kind of unpredictable. And mean. And sneaky. And he has weird eyes, but not bad weird? Definitely a good weird. And he has the cutest bedhead. I.. don’t remember where I was going with that. I’ll finish writing this later. Or maybe I’ll just rewrite this completely, because no way am I giving Dr. Sherman a letter of me confessing to myself that I’m in love with Jared. Not because liking Jared is bad, I just!! I don’t want Sherman to know? He’ll never let go of it. Ever. He’ll draw some wacko conclusion that I’m anxious because I’m confused or confused because I’m anxious or something that isn’t even true. I’m a senior with anxiety, too many facts about trees, and a huge crush on the closest thing to a friend I have. He’ll think I’m insane, or demented, or something awful. He’ll tell my mom and Jared’ll find out and I’ll just never ever hear the end of it. Jared’s calling me to eat. I think he made pancakes. He’s… so adorable. Sincerely, Me.

The kind I dream about all day Holy shit. Holy shit. Okay, so, Evan stayed over, slept on my bed, I made him breakfast, everything was all fine and dandy. I was cleaning up my room, putting shit away, when I found Evan’s laptop. Like. His actual laptop. I didn’t even fucking know he brought it, I was so confused. And then I fucking opened it. Evan has to write these letters to himself, it’s some therapy thing to help with his anxiety. And he had one open! I wasn’t going to read it, you know, it’s a private thing but then I saw my name and, well, I couldn’t fucking control myself. By the time I had processed it was about me, I had already read like a paragraph and a half. My brain just fucking fried after reading I came to terms about I felt about Jared a long time ago. Like.. the first little part of his letter made that seem like it had a great connotation to it, you know? A good kind of feeling about me? Right? So why the fuck am I freaking out that it’s something bad? I don’t have the balls to keep reading; it’s his therapy shit, I can’t just fucking read it! Besides, it’s about the party or some shit. I was there, I don’t need a recap! I really do not have any reason to keep reading Evan’s stupid sex letter to himself. No reason at all. Okay, I just read the whole fucking thing and HOLY SHIT. Evan has a crush on “the closest thing he has to a friend”. Which, based on the second gayest paragraph I’ve ever read (the first gayest was clearly written by me, somewhere in this shit), means me. Like. Me. Jared Kleinman. Evan Hansen has a crush on Jared Kleinman. Like. That’s me. It’s not like he has other friends, I mean, I’d know. Plus, the aforementioned second gayest paragraph seals the fucking deal. (Note to self: stop brushing your hair because Evan Fucking Hansen finds your bedhead cute) The real question now is what the fuck do I do with this information? I know Evan likes me, and that I like Evan. Evan probably suspects I like him? He can’t be that dense. Then again, I’m probably that dense. How didn’t I notice he liked me? He isn’t that secretive about shit, after all. Did the entire fucking world know except me? According to Evan, the answer to that is a huge fucking yes with a capital Y-E-S. Clearly, I have to return his laptop, right? That’s a valid excuse to talk to him. Just start with the laptop and somehow transition to “I heard you have a super gay crush on me, don’t ask who told me, I also have a huge gay crush on you, let’s be mega gays together.” Real classy. I’m sure that won’t give him a giant panic attack that’ll end up with him breathing into a paper bag. I’ll just text him. That works, I’ll just send him a little message, it’ll be fine. There, sent. U left ur laptop lol That’s casual! And very me. Probably won’t end in the fucking paper bag. So that’s taken care of. Fuck, I should pack up his laptop in something. Maybe he left his laptop bag too? Update: he did. I packed everything up and put it in a corner. I’m just gonna walk over to his house, hand over his computer and pretend I don’t know he likes me. He likes me. Evan Hansen likes me. I don’t think I’m ever getting over that? Knowing me, I’ll bring it up. I can’t not bring it up! How do you keep that shit under wraps?! When your crush likes you, you don’t just sit on that, right? You gotta tell them. I have to tell him. Fuck, I have to tell him. I think I’ve come full circle, how do I tell him? I’ll just.. sit him down. Tell him I like someone and that person is him, and is he okay with that? I’ll talk quick because otherwise he’ll think I’m talking about someone else, but it’s him. It’s always been him. I’m gonna go return his laptop. Fuck. Wish me luck? I really hope I don’t fuck this up.

Can’t sleep love Dear Evan Hansen, Today’s going to be a killer day and here’s why. Tomorrow is our six-month anniversary! Hell yeah! Exciting, right? I can’t fucking believe it’s only been six months. Feels like forever, doesn’t it? Wayy longer than that, but I kept track. I counted and everything. Six months ago, I showed up to your house with a laptop and told you I liked you. It… fucking took you a while to realize I wasn’t joking. After we cleared that shit up… well. Six months ago, we made out sooo fucking much. Maybe we can do that again sometime? Just saying. (insert :smirk: here) I literally am staying up writing this, because surprise, I forgot I wanted to do this before now. It’s almost midnight, I’m hoping to finish as soon as it’s our anniversary, and let you find it. Because I’m hilarious. As I’m writing this, you’re asleep and clinging to me. Like… it’s making writing very hard. Remind me to just be a super sappy asshole next time you’re doing homework with me anywhere around, as payback. Sometimes, I think long and hard about what the fuck I did to deserve you. I don’t think I have an answer yet, but you make me feel like I should. You make me feel so great, like I am worth attention and shit. I fucking love you for it, and I really hope I do the same for you. I almost hate myself less with you. Granted, it’s hard to stop hating me, so it’s a work in progress. Where was I going with that? Anyway. I don’t know how you write these things, even to yourself. It’s so difficult. I keep erasing things because once I write them, you know, maybe I can’t take them back. I could just delete this whole thing, but, there’s a point to this. Evan, I love you. Even if I don’t express it in the best way (in my defense, memes are a good way to express how I feel about you), it’s the truth. I love texting you first thing in the morning and going to the park with you (even if bugs seem to love me way too much) and all that good shit. I love falling asleep with you on the sofa and cuddling and making you get up and go to bed because the sofa is so uncomfortable?? How do you fall asleep on that?? Is it because I’m a kick-ass pillow?? I just love everything about you and I really fucking hope we have more anniversaries to come. But also, if you show anyone this letter, I’m dumping you for Connor Murphy, don’t fucking test me. I have never had a crush on him like someone thought, but I’ll get that weed-head to fall for me so hard, you won’t even know. All joking aside, though, happy anniversary and I love you. Sincerely, Me (your boyfriend. Jared Kleinman. That’s me. Still not over that.) P.S. Take these memes: http://tinyurl.com/evans-meme http://tinyurl.com/insert-gay-shit-here http://tinyurl.com/evan-meme-1 Happy anniversary (again) and… I love you.

#kleinsen #dear evan hansen #evan hansen #jared kleinman #kleinsen fic #hi lissy I love this so much #this is so sos so good #entries #submission

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dachi-chan25 · 7 years

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Game of Thrones Season 7 Episode 5 Recap Pt. 1

I seriously need to vent about “Eastwatch so bear with me please.

WARNING: SPOILERS; not a D@€n€r¥$ fan; Jonsa shipper so yeah I’m biased af.

Before diving into the recap:

1.- This are only my opinions, humble analysis and random thoughts/musings about the episode, and I am in no form or way trying to convince people I know everything or that I’m absolutely right and whatever other reading is wrong, I actually Love that thing about fandom that everyone sees things in a different way, is fascinating

2.- I’m the literal embodiment of the Salt Throne, and I feel specially salty about this episode so if you are not comfortable with that stuff I highly recommend you not to read this. I will always stay in my lane and I am not closed off to debates as long as you extend the same politeness and respect of course.

3.- My analysis of certain ships/characters is based on what I think and feel as an audience, but in no form or way do I think people shouldn’t ship/like said ship/characters. Believe me on the fact I will always defend the right to love what you love, even my most hated NOTPS are valid and I will always support the shippers and multishippers even if we don’t interact.

————

1.- Back on the lake near HG, Bronn and Jaime are fine (I already knew they weren’t going to die but I am glad they don’t even have a scratch) and golden boy is pissed cuz Bronn wasn’t delicate enough during his brave rescue, and Bronn is like yeah but why did you do such a stupid ass thing she has a dragon Jamie a dragon!!!! but our Lannister boy didn’t even cared he was willing to die to get rid of D.

OK, but that was really what a hero would do??He doesn’t know D, and the good things she has done, and we know Jaime is more than flawed, he has done awfull things, and in his mind D is the biggest threat he has ever faced (I mean he is not wrong) and still found the courage to charge at her, he just watched his man die horrible painful deaths (mind you he got PTSD from his time with Aerys right then and there) and instead of fleeing like Bronn suggested he fought and was willing to die just so he could get rid of D… That really makes you think.

Anyway Bronn is like fuck you, you can’t die before you pay me dude! but you’re totally on your own if the Dragon Woman comes to KL xoxo.

I truly love Bronn.

2.- So yeah we’re strolling through the Field of Fire with Tyrion, he looks absolutely horrified (he should) while the Dothraki take swords and weapons form the dead (yikes, can we talk about the lack of humanising of the Dothraki? We only got to know them a lil’ back on s1 and s2 and still they look like terrible people with a ruthless violent culture and no real good redeeming qualities, I mean we don’t even get a lot of depth on any Mereenese, Yunkai or Astapori beyond the ohh wondrous mysha bullshit!! and then we have Dorne, you know the PoC of Westeros, storyline absolutely butchered and thrown to shit, and this actually stinks of racism) anyway we have like what 50? 100? Soldiers and I’m supposed to pat D in the back for not killing everyone??? You kidding me right? There were 10,000 Lannister-Tarly soldiers, she killed ¾ of the army, and yet she dares to say she didn’t came to murder them or orphan their children with the same condecending tone she used for the Meerenese, Astapori and Yunkaii people???? Miss me that bullshit, she had an adavantage from 10-1 there was no FUCKING way the Lannister-Tarlys were going to win, besides if she has the noble pure righteous heart she loves to parrot about she would have given them the chance to yield before she went Dracarys on their asses (you know like Jon Snow did in the BoB telling Ramsey they should have a 1 on 1 so other people wouldn’t die) she should have taken the food, but she didn’t so it would be real nice if she stopped with all those pretty but meaningless speeches that only make her look like a hypocrite (but I totally understand why she doesn’t “if I look back I’m lost” which basically means I’m too lazy and proud to learn from my mistakes and accept my flaws) anyway it all boils down to “bend the knee or die even tho I just said I didn’t came to kill you after I had already killed most of you” and I kid you not, just 5-10 people bent immediately, only when Drogon screeches menacingly at them is that most drop to their knees absolutely terrified (*instert the “this is not freedom, this is fear” meme from Captain America) what kind of choice is this???? No choice at all, is either accept me as your newest overlord or die in the flames (yikes, I never wanted her on the IT but now more than ever).

Other thing that piqued my interest is that she uses her famous line about destroying the wheel, basically this is a medieval equivalent of communism, she says there will be no more powerfull high lords and helpless small folk, okay good, totally support this, but D you seriously need to ask yourself how are you going to manage the transition and if your replacement of this feudalistic system is all the power lies in me, my Dragons and my small council if/when I’m in the mood to actually listen then no fuck you. Communism is something we know, something we’ve seen before (Cuba, Russia, North Korea) and it has failed, even if theoretically it seems the most humanitarian and fair, in practice it has always caused an awful whiplash of tyranny, poverty and opression (history exists guys, and even if Westeros is a fantasy setting, GRRM based a lot of the stuff in ASOIAF in actual historical events) our society was not ready in any form or way for that kind of government and neither is the Westerosi society, but D is not a politician, she is a Queen and therefore she doesn’t care about future problems and consequences ‘til they hit her face and then she whines and complains about it.

Fortunately the Tarlys are having none of that overlord (overlady???) bullshit and will not kneel, is no secret I dislike Randyll Tarly cuz he is ruthless with his soldiers (flogging them for real??) and the way he treated Sam (fuck him) but he has a lot of strenght and dignity, he refuses to kneel because he already chose a side and he would stand by it even if it meant death, he is a hardass motherfucker if anything, Tyrion is like dude you seriously are going to fight for my evil sister? Point is that Cersei and D really give not much of an option do they Tyrion? As a matter of fact this scene is a good parallel to Cersei’s 7x01 one in the IT trash talking D and convincing (tho she is much more diplomatic) the Reach Lords to fight with her, then we see Randyll talk with Jaime and he says he only answered the call cuz he knew what Cersei does with her enemies. Here we have D’s pretty speech about how Cersei is evil and she is clearly the better option while intimidating them with her Dragon and Dothraki.But is the same! even if Cersei is more subtle in her approach. Anywhoo Randyll is like you say whatever you want about Queen C, but she is not a foreign invader with a army of infamous pillagers and rapers and dragons who burnt all the food of the Reach (k I added that last bit cuz I’m salty that no one seems to give a fuck about the food) and I know some people have been saying he sounded racist (he does not) that is not the case at all,every country requests being a citizen (among other things) to occupy a position in the government, because you have to know the country, lived there, care at least a little about it’s people and know them and let them know you, D meets none of this requirements, and yes it’s not her fault, it’s her dad’s and Robert’s that she had to live in exile, but still she has no right to proclaim herself as the better option when she has done nothing to show it.

So Randyll is ready to die, Tyrion wants to save him (I guess to convince himself that he made the right decision in supporting D) and suggests he is sent to the Wall, but Radyll is like nah man she has no authority to make me do shit cuz she ain’t my queen. Dickon (my brave and beautiful, and dumb son) steps out and says he won’t bend the knee also, Randyll and Tyrion collectively lose their shits (bitch me too the fuck) because they don’t want him to die and let house Tarly die with him (this rings to close to Tyrion cuz his evil sis killed the Tyrells and Aerys killed a Rickard and Brandon Stark, how is this any different from what D is doing now?) but D is ruthless and says she already gave them an option, Tyrion is still trying to be like hey how about you don’t start cutting heads off??? and D is like LMAO who said I was beheading them? Tyrion is left speechless (why were you expecting dude?? You watched her burn the army and the food, and she almost burnt your brother and your bff) but really is heartbreaking because he wanted so hard to see the mericful woman he admired and believed in and only sees a tyrant.

So of course I cried, because I played myself living in denial and happily shipping Dicksa (we can’t have nice things, but my ship is not going down, you can’t kill what is already dead!!!!) and beyond that it was heartbreaking seeing Randyll holding his son’s arm and them dying on ther feet. And I was reminded of one of the heroes of the mexican revolution, Emiliano Zapata who once said “I’d rather die on my feet, than live on my knees” what the Tarlys did was a common tragic hero trope.

After the Tarlys get roasted, everyone is on their knees and I would love to slap the satisfaction out of D’s face, because this is awful.

———

I rambled far too much so this needs a part 2

#Game of Thrones #7x05 #racap pt 1 #anti daenerys #just to be safe #dachi rambles

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masteredshadows · 7 years

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crimson.

straight up this is a long one and requires way too much context but I also put too much effort into it and have been editing it for around a week so it’d be chill if you read it

tl;dr context: elli’s vlad’s modern verse variation and my zed’s modern verse had a fling and then shit happened and also you should read her excellent ... I suppose counterpart? drabble

xoxo thanks

The room is quiet.

The only noise that can be heard is the occasional sound of Zed’s fingers dancing across the computer’s keyboard, and the sole light in the area comes from the dull white of its monitor. The sun sunk past the horizon long ago; the moon is obscured by the curtains drawn tight across the window.

Zed sighs, shutting the computer down before leaning back in his chair.

The last few weeks have been all too dull. There is only so much entertainment to be derived from brute forcing insecure accounts and reminding people why, exactly, password or 123456789 (or, god forbid, 1q2w3e4r if they feel really clever) are terrible passwords.

Idiots.

Not that Zed really has any right to look down upon other people for making stupid decisions, given his behaviour over the last several months.

Ugh. He could have just talked a bit, acted like any other member of that damned crime syndicate, kept himself as emotionally detached as he always does, but instead, instead -- !

He lets out another sigh.

Dwelling is pointless. He knows this, but it hasn’t stopped him from staying up until three AM for the sixth night in a row.

Good grief. Zed shakes his head with a heavy sigh, disappointed in himself.

At least twenty-four hour gyms exist.

Zed pushes the chair back, standing up and shuffling over to the kitchen, not bothering to turn on the light: Enough filters through the crack underneath the apartment’s entrance to navigate. Even so, he grips the marble countertop’s cold edge, stumbling around a bit until he finds the handle to the fridge.

Opening the fridge door is like staring into the sun. Zed squeezes one eye shut, the other blinking rapidly in an attempt to adjust to the intensely bright light, and quickly pulls out an assortment of vegetables before slamming the door closed. Blinking his other eye open, he sets them on the counter, then reaches for a large chef’s knife and places it beside them.

Now, where did he put the cutting board…?

A lamp would make this easier, you realise.

Zed yawns. He doesn’t need sass from himself right now. Just opening the fridge hurt far too much for him to want to deal with such a thing again so soon, anyway.

Just. Flick the switch on. It’s not hard. Don’t be stubborn.

He sighs, turning away from the kitchen cabinets, but pauses. Outside, he can hear the distinct sound of someone walking in the hall. Their steps are slow, muffled by the carpet.

Abruptly, they stop.

Zed’s breath catches, his eyes darting to his apartment door.

Two dark shadows interrupt the once unbroken line of light creeping underneath it.

Who would be standing outside his door at this time of night? Those precious few foolish enough to consider Zed a friend wouldn’t visit him without warning, and he isn’t known for being the most welcoming of neighbours.

A maintenance man? No, not at three AM, and certainly not when Zed hasn’t reported anything. Maybe to fix something out in the hall, but if that is the case, then why stop in front of his door?

A quiet click comes from the door handle.

Zed reaches for the knife, heart starting to beat faster.

Why are they here? Did I mess up, leave a trace somewhere? No, I’ve covered my tracks-- nobody should know, nobody could know, nobody but--

Shit. This is what he gets for dating a member of a crime ring, for allowing his emotions to get the best of him yet again.

He is going to die, alone, and not a single person will mourn his disappearance.

Zed tries to take a breath, but finds that he can’t, finds himself choking on the kind of terror that can only accompany a threat to one’s life.

The handle turns.

He doesn’t want to die.

He swears his heart is going to explode. It beats, rapidfire, a machine gun emptying a cartridge behind his ribs. Zed’s fingers curl around the knife’s handle, his father’s martial arts classes flashing through his mind. If worst comes to worst--

Why else would someone be breaking into his apartment? A robbery? Doubtful, robbers look for easy targets or immensely high value ones; breaking into a random (though, granted, expensive) apartment on the fifth floor of a building is too deliberate for a simple robbery.

Then--

The door pushes open, slow, agonizingly so.

He swallows.

Zed supposes he could get behind the intruder and snap their neck (this isn’t a movie), but they’re likely a trained killer, while Zed is not. Trained in martial arts, yes, but when is the last time he went to a dojo and practiced?

It isn’t something he wants to do, either. He has hurt a countless number of people, and good god is it funny, but it is their emotions that he twists and plays games with, not-- Not their hearts, their flesh.

Can he do it? Even he isn’t dense enough to ignore that his mindset towards the existence of other people is more callous than most, but--

Zed takes a breath, trying to ignore his creeping terror, pulling the knife towards himself.

His life is more important than the intruder’s.

They might have a gun. It would be dumb of them not to.

If they do, then Zed cannot allow them to get a shot off. He will-- would die, adrenaline or not, and he has to plan for the worst.

He doesn’t want to die.

If it is a knife -- Well, then at least they will be evenly matched.

The intruder steps through, the hallway’s light illuminating their silhouette for a brief moment, then shuts the door.

Zed holds his breath.

Male. Reasonably tall, but from what Zed can tell from the brief glance, unlikely to outmatch him physically. No weapons in his hand yet, indicating he doesn’t want anything to be seen by the cameras in the hall. Does he have a key to Zed’s room, then?

He should have moved the moment things went south with Vladimir, the moment the Black Rose had a reason to deal with him.

Focus.

The intruder takes a step forwards, but stops, waiting for his eyes to adjust to the darkness.

Zed needs to do something. Now, while he still has an advantage. Shit. Shit. Shit.

Slow as he can, desperately trying to avoid making any noise, Zed exhales.

Why must his heart beat so fast? God. God! He can’t think straight, can’t wrest fear’s cold grasp off of his spine, can’t stop his head from spinning or his hands from shaking.

He doesn’t want to die.

The intruder reaches into his pocket, and suddenly, Zed finds the will to hurl fear aside and lunge towards the man. Knife extended, he rushes forwards, desperate to hit a vital. The intruder whirls around, facing Zed just long enough for the blade to plunge into the skin beneath his ribs.

One stab isn’t enough, can’t be enough. How could something so easy possibly be enough to kill a man?

Zed jerks the knife out, barely cognisant of the intruder’s frantic attempt to grab onto his own weapon, then jabs it forward again, pressing his free hand to the man’s throat, anything to stop him from grabbing onto whatever is in his pocket.

Something disgustingly warm and clammy closes around his left wrist, trying to wrench his iron grip off the knife.

Zed can’t think, can hardly breathe, can’t hear a thing but his heart pounding incessantly in his ears, can’t see a thing in this suffocating darkness. At least it means he doesn’t have to see the face of the man as he withdraws the knife again, doesn’t have to hear any shouts of pain that he might emit, but it means Zed doesn’t know where he is stabbing, doesn’t know anything besides the mounting violence threatening to consume him and the repetitive jabbing of the knife, one stab, two stab, three--

His left hand feels warm, sticky; his right is doing everything in its power to crush the man’s windpipe.

His father would be disappointed in Zed for forgetting so many of his lessons.

The thought only renews his determination, adds fuel to the fire of his violent lust. Zed shoves forward, sending both him and the intruder careening to the ground. Somehow, he manages to keep hold of the knife, and he jabs it between two ribs, again, again, again.

He doesn’t know how much time has passed when he stops, only knows that his arms ache and that his hands are slick with warm blood.

His face feels hot. His lips feel dry.

Zed stands up, shaky, leaving the knife impaled in the man -- corpse -- then reaches towards the wall. With its guidance, it takes him only a moment to find the lightswitch, though he hesitates before it.

He swallows, takes a deep breath, and flickers it on.

The first thing Zed sees is his hands, red, messy, with a row of four white finger-shaped imprints on his wrist.

That’ll bruise, if it hasn’t fractured.

Whatever the case, it hurts. How is he supposed to explain this to a hospital? ‘Oh, yeah, I got into a fistfight and didn’t report it to the police. Silly me!’

Dumbass. He can figure it out tomorrow, or-- Later today, as the case may be.

Zed’s gaze wanders, moving from his wrist to the wall, where his attempt to find the light switch is all-too-evident.

He might need to repaint. How easy is it to wash off blood stains…?

Zed shakes his head.

Later. He’ll deal with that later, just like everything else to do with this horrific chaos. He directs his eyes to the floor, where a not small amount of blood is pooling, spreading out and across the wooden floor.

--Shit. Zed’s eyes widen, and he moves to grab a towel from the bathroom. Tearing it off the rack, he rushes back to the hall and presses it up against the crack beneath the door.

He doesn’t need any evidence leaking outside of his apartment.

Satisfied with the towel, he turns away from the door and back to the body.

It isn’t a particularly pleasant sight. The man’s once-white shirt has turned a murky scarlet, and his face is contorted into a gruesome expression, his jaw slack, his eyes wide open. Parts of his shirt have torn, revealing punctured, puffy, discoloured skin, and square in the centre of his abdomen, the knife lies where Zed left it.

Zed supposes that he is lucky the man wasn’t wearing more, lucky that he keeps his knives sharp, lucky that a regular chef’s knife was enough to break through cloth and skin, lucky that he has kept up with his gym routine, lucky he had surprise on his side, lucky lucky lucky--

The man is dead.

No. Yes, but more accurately, Zed killed the man. Intruder.

Future killer?

Using different names for him doesn’t change what happened.

Zed sighs, stepping over to the body and crouching down. Almost idly, he begins searching through the corpse’s pockets, of which there are too many.

(Cargo pants. Disgusting.)

To his relief, there is a gun tucked away in one -- a small, black pistol, though Zed doesn’t know enough to identify what kind. Elsewhere, there is a wallet with an ID that Zed doubts the validity of and about a hundred dollars worth of cash. Gingerly, he puts both back into the wallet, careful not to stain them with the residue on his hands, then sets it aside to rifle through later. In another pocket, Zed finds a packet of cigarettes, as well as a single key and a phone.

He squints at them.

The phone will need to be destroyed. Soon, too, assuming it’s being tracked. It’ll catch the Black Rose’s attention, inform them their man failed to complete the job, but, well-- They’re already sending people after Zed, anyway.

It is only then that Zed realises he hasn’t confirmed that this man is from the Black Rose. A likely murderer, yes, judging by the gun and suspicious behaviour, but anything else…?

He picks the wallet back up, looking at the ID once more.

He’ll have to cross check it with the data he has on the organisation.

Damn. Shit. Fuck.

I killed a man.

Zed turns his head to look at the wounds on the corpse’s chest. They are brutal, imprecise. No policeman would believe them to be the result of self defense, not when Zed has no major wounds to speak of.

He swallows, reaching his hand out.

It hovers over the knife.

Stop being stupid. He died, you lived. Tragic.

Zed reaches down and tugs the knife up and out of the corpse. Distracted, he stares at the blade. He thinks it may be staring back at him, condemning him for the crime he has committed.

Zed tears his gaze away from the knife, letting it hang by his side. He stands up, steps over the body and walks into the kitchen, where vegetables lay scattered across the counter.

Huh.

It all looks so normal.

He glances at the clock above the stove.

The green numbers blink 3:51 back at him.

It feels like a decade has passed, not fifty one minutes.

He moves over to the sink, flicking the cold water on and sticking the knife underneath it. Within moments, the blade is washed free of blood, and Zed exhales a breath he hadn’t realised he has been holding. Once the knife is clean, he sets it aside and washes what he can of the blood off of his arms, though he resolves to take a shower before he sleeps tonight.

Sleeping with a dead body in the home? The thought is almost laughable.

Maybe if he was willing to risk the smell seeping out of his home, but no, first, he needs to somehow dispose of it. Acid might work, if TV can be trusted.

It cannot, but Zed can’t think of any better options. No meat grinder large enough to deal with a body would fit inside his home, and the corpse’s wounds are unsettling enough without it being turned into a hamburger. He will need to erase the camera footage from the night, too, because he hasn’t committed enough criminal acts for the day already.

It is all too much to think about.

Finally, he shuts the water off, opening a cabinet and pulling the cutting board out. Zed rolls a head of lettuce onto it and begins chopping it in a rhythmic fashion, slicing it quickly, deliberately, efficiently, allowing the repetitive action to calm his mind and steady his heart.

The room is quiet. A man is dead, and another quietly readies himself a meal, a content expression upon his face.

#I dunno usually I just let drabbles be after draft one but I started writing this in april ...#RICH ASSHOLE ( modern. )#death /#gore /#idk you know #im so sorry to mobile ppl I hope they fixed that but I don't think they have #light gore but nonetheless #long post warning /#murder /#my plea in the beginning isn't that serious I just want this out of my head because I got weirdly picky with it #no lol I'm gonna end up finding something else to procrastinate with oh well #spoilers in the content warnings :^)#there's also foul language but like if you're on my blog you see that shit anyway #violence /#w/e now it's done and out and I can concentrate again #I AM INEVITABLE ⁄ WATCH ME CONQUER ( drabbles. )

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artificialqueens · 4 years

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Tree House Kisses, Chapter 36 (Adorney) - Scorpio and Veronica

A/N: Brand new content! Thank you so much to anyone following this reposting. We’re now caught up, and the idea is to post about a chapter a month until we’re done with the story. (Fingers crossed.) Please let us know if you have any requests!

Click here for previous chapters, or here to read on AO3. XOXO!

Chapter Summary: After the Spring musical forces Courtney and Adore back into each other's lives, Adore gets advice from a very unlikely source.

Chapter 36: Something Good

It was about 2 weeks into play practice for The Sound of Music when Courtney discovered her favorite place in school to make out with Roy: the backstage dressing rooms. She was sitting perched on the counter, Roy’s mouth trailing down her neck. Her hands moved to his waist, tugging on his fly.

Roy groaned slightly, then glanced around the dressing room, asking, “Aren’t you worried that someone might walk in?”

“Isn’t that part of the fun?” she replied with a wicked smile.

He grinned back, dimples deep in his cheeks, shaking his head. Now that the musical had begun, he was relieved, in a way, that there was finally an after-school activity that they could do together. Ever since she’d quit cheer in the Fall, it seemed to Roy that Courtney had been floundering. She wasn’t involved with any sports or clubs. He knew that a big part of it had to do with Adore. She was obviously still feeling depressed about their fractured friendship, which was understandable.

And Roy was happy to fill in the gaps, in theory. But as much as he loved Courtney, he worried that maybe she was putting too much pressure on their relationship. After all, he was just one person. One busy person. So the play gave them a chance to spend time together with more of a purpose. And even better, forced her to socialize with people besides him.

“It’s also slightly terrifying…” he said, gesturing to the door.

Courtney giggled, popping open the button and unzipping him slowly, lips brushing against his, tongue teasing. Roy knew that he shouldn’t let things go this far in public, at school. That this was just part of their game--the one where she was always pushing the envelope and he was responsible for setting the boundaries. But he was only human. Sometimes he didn’t want to be the one to stop things. Sometimes, he just wanted to enjoy himself.

“Fuck…” Roy’s fingers dug into her waist as her hands reached into his pants, heart pounding in his throat.

“Hey-oh dear god!” Jinkx stood in the doorway, a hand covering her eyes. “Uh, Leisl...we need you onstage…we’re about to work on Our Favorite Things.”

“Okay!” Courtney chirped, sliding off the counter, buttoning her top and giving Roy a chaste peck on the cheek.

“And uh…please take care of that...gross situation...” Jinkx made a vague gesture towards Roy’s crotch. “...before you come onstage?”

“Shit, sorry.”

“Good luck, Daddy,” Courtney sang, tossing Roy a kiss as she sailed out the door, leaving him reeling and dizzy.

The worst part about having to see Courtney all the time, for Adore, was how visibly okay she was.

Adore knew she shouldn’t be watching them. But somehow, she couldn’t help her eyes from drifting in their direction at lunch. Watching Courtney lean back, her fingers pressing into the grass. Her head fell backwards, elongating her neck and catching Roy’s attention.

Roy stared at her for a few moments, probably as transfixed as Adore as the sun highlighted Courtney’s angelic features. Adore watched as Roy reached over, slipping his finger under the chain of her necklace before leaning over, placing a soft kiss on Courtney's shoulder. Her glossy pink lips stretched into a wide smile, basking in his attention.

Wishing that she hadn’t seen such a small act of affection, something similar to sadness washed over Adore. Adore knew that Courtney missed her, in theory. She knew that cutting her off had upset her. But she also knew that, ultimately, she was fine. And that was the really gut-wrenching part.

Because Adore was not fine. As much as she tried to pretend sometimes, the loss of her best friend was like an open, gaping wound. She never forgot. She never moved on. She just went through her days feeling numb at best, and miserable at worst, and usually somewhere in the middle.

She had other friends. And she loved them. But Courtney had always brought a special kind of light into her life that no one else could. And the really sad thing was that for a long time, Adore genuinely believed that she’d done the same thing for Courtney.

But it was clear whenever she glimpsed her giggling at play practice, or fooling around with Roy on the grass at lunch, or even just walking through the halls—her light was still there. Adore’s absence hadn’t dimmed it at all.

Adore hated to even admit to herself how much it hurt, but there it was. The raw truth.

“Willam, stop!” Courtney tried to hold back her laughter and get him to focus on their choreography.

Willam was a clear example of how boys could get lead roles with two left feet, whereas she got scolded if she missed one step. They were trying to rehearse their dance during “16 Going On 17” and he was just not taking anything seriously. Partly because he’d been empowered by Mrs. Maguire to be a bit of a ham, when she told him, “I’m not saying you have to camp it up like Dan is doing, but don’t feel like you have to play him perfectly straight.”

Of course, Willam had taken that direction and ran with it, mincing about the stage and tossing imaginary hair. Still obviously a little bitter about getting passed over for the ‘Baroness in Drag’ role she’d given to Dan. In spite of everything though, Courtney was happy that they had so many scenes together. Yes, he could be a pain in the ass, but screwing around with him like two naughty children was just the perfect distraction for her.

Sometimes, as much as she loved Roy, the sympathy in his eyes when she got down was too much to bear. With Willam, there was none of that. They could laugh and have fun and be crazy and she never had to worry about him making her think about something deep. She never had to worry about him being tender or careful the way Roy was sometimes - the way even her mother had been since she’d confessed about her fight with Adore all those months ago. If she spaced out or got wistful, all Willam would do was punch her on the shoulder and tell her to stop being a moody cunt. It was refreshing and necessary.

“Okay, let’s try that again,” said Mrs. Maguire, gesturing for Thorgy to reset the music.

“Hey, Mrs. Maguire. I thought this scene would be kinkier. Weren’t Nazis really into like, BDSM and shit?”

Courtney let out a shrieking giggle, clapping her hand over her mouth.

“Willam, please try to focus on-”

“You’re thinking of Cabaret,” Jinkx answered from the front row, not even looking up from her script.

“Ohhh, bummer.”

“How about a spanking?” Courtney asked gleefully, bouncing around the stage on the balls of her feet. “I mean, he fully deserves it. Both Willam and Rolf.” She gave him a good smack on the ass to emphasize her point, spirits high, an almost manic gleam in her eye.

“Guys-” Mrs. Maguire was starting to look a bit irritated.

“Oh no, I’ve been a bad little Nazi,” Willam said, bending over, putting a finger in his mouth. Courtney giggled harder and slapped his ass again, harder this time.

“What in the actual FUCK?” Bob said, darting out from behind the wings.

Courtney and Willam both whirled around to face him.

“Guys. Please pay attention-” Mrs. Maguire began, but Bob cut her off.

“No, I’m sorry, are these two blonde, blue-eyed, devil fuckheads trivializing white supremacy right now?” he yelled. “Actually, no, worse, they are fucking fetishizing white supremacy. What the fuck?!”

Courtney’s eyes went wide in alarm.

“I’m sorry, Bob,” she said immediately, hitting Willam in the shoulder. This was all his fault, after all.

“Yeah, sorry,” he echoed, “But my character just really likes a spanking-”

“Bill!” Courtney exclaimed, hitting him again. “Bob, I really am sorry. That was dumb.”

“You’re damn right it was!” Bob said. “Now, I want you to apologize to everyone here! Including your Mexican boyfriend!” He pointed at Roy.

“I’m sor-”

“I’m not Mexican, Bob,” Roy called up from the audience.

“Stepping on my motherfucking point, Del Rio!” Bob yelled back.

“I’m sorry, I really didn’t mean it that way,” Courtney said, heart pounding with embarrassment and fear. Bob hardly ever got angry like that. What if he stayed mad? What if she lost him? What if she lost April, too? Tears pricked at her eyes. Why was she so stupid? “That was insensitive; we won’t do it again, I-”

“Good!”

Bob began to march offstage, and Courtney swallowed, regret swirling in her chest, cheeks still hot with shame. What the fuck was wrong with her? Why did she let Willam rope her into that whole thing?

“Leisl! Rolf! Can we get back to your number?!” Mrs. Maguire asked.

“Yes, sorry!"

Courtney rang Bob’s doorbell and bit her lip, clutching the pink bakery box in her hands.

“Hey…” Bob opened the door, looking her up and down with a slightly confused expression. “What’s up?”

“Um...April said that the apple fritters from Hal’s Donuts are your favorite.” She held out the box, which he took from her skeptically.

“They are…but why?”

“I just felt bad. About the thing with Willam earlier.” Courtney shifted uncomfortably.

“Oh.” Bob sighed. “Well, you should. I mean...I think it’s okay that you feel bad.”

Courtney nodded, swallowing down a lump in her throat.

“I wanted to tell you that I really care about you, and I’m sorry, and if I can make it better-”

“Court, this isn’t about me and you. You know? It’s just like...sometimes it’s really exhausting how much racism and bigotry is just everywhere, all the time, even in a stupid school musical,” Bob said.

“Yeah. I get it. I mean...I think I get it.”

Bob smiled ruefully, holding up the box. “But I do appreciate the reparations.”

“Anytime,” Courtney said, grinning back at him.

“Just want to make sure...you’re not hitting on me right now, are you?”

“No!” Courtney glared at him. “Come on!”

“Okay, okay, just checking,” he laughed.

Adore sat in the back of the theatre, trying to get some of her most annoying homework done while the Von Trapp children rehearsed “So Long, Farewell” onstage.

“I’d like to stay, and taste my first champagne-”

“Courtney!” Mrs. Maguire cut in. “Can you please do the champagne line in a less sexual way? Remember that he’s your dad in this show, not your boyfriend.”

“But I love my Daddy,” Courtney simpered, fluttering her lashes and making the other Von Trapp children titter with laughter.

“Stop it,” Roy said, trying to suppress his grin.

“Courtney, look at it this way. It would be a real problem if Captain Von Trapp got a boner on stage. Especially while his kids are singing,” explained Mrs. Maguire, increasing the giggling from the peanut gallery.

“Yeah, a real problem!” Roy echoed.

“Sorry Daddy!” Courtney sang, skipping back to her place in line.

“Dude…” Bob’s voice carried further than he intended through the theatre, catching Adore’s attention as he thumped Jamin on the shoulder. “Did you see that?”

Adore tilted her head, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as if she actually needed any help hearing Bob. He was only a few rows away, and even though he seemed to think he was being quiet, his big mouth was 100% audible to anyone in the vicinity.

“Courtney? Is a total fucking nympho,” Bob continued.

“A nympho?!” Jamin repeated, tossing his head back to let out a loud cackle, earning a few looks, but ultimately ignored.

“No, really?” Thorgy gasped at the idea, blinking at Bob in disbelief through thick glasses.

“Yeah, I’m telling you!” Bob insisted, snickering. “Roy says that she used to be kind of a prude, but now she cannot get enough. She just wants his dick like, all the time. Everywhere. I think he used the word ‘insatiable.’”

“Attagirl!” Willam said.

Anger started to find its way into Adore’s veins; the natural instinct to defend and protect Courtney regardless of them not being on good terms poked at Adore like a hot spike.

“Poor guy, he’s exhausted,” Bob said, laughing some more, and Adore slammed her binder shut, immediately grabbing her stuff and racing outside.

Something about that conversation made her feel embarrassed and angry, almost vengefully so. How dare they talk about Courtney that way? Sure, she had her faults, but hearing them laugh about her was so vile, so utterly boy. So wrong. And Adore knew exactly who to blame.

The sound was a cross between a thump and a click, and it caused Roy to look up from his desk, confused. It was after the second one when he realized that something was hitting his window. He crossed the bedroom and lifted it, surprised to see Adore standing there, several pinecones in her hands, about to hurl another one.

“Uh...hi?”

“Come outside!” she demanded.

“Why didn’t you just use the doorbell like a normal person?” Roy asked.

“Why don’t you stop asking pussy-ass questions and get out here?”

Roy rolled his eyes. Obviously, she was in some kind of mood. (What else was new?) He decided to follow the path of least resistance and just do what she wanted.

“I’ll be right down.”

She was pacing around the driveway when he stepped outside, practically wearing a hole in the pavement.

“Hey. Are you alright? What’s-”

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Adore exploded. “Why are you such an asshole?”

“Uh…” Roy wasn’t sure what this tantrum was about, so he decided to diffuse the situation with some humor. “Well...my parents are both assholes...and then they fucked, and…” He held up his hands as if to say ‘Ta da!’

“That is so not funny,” she said, turning on her heel and sitting down on the curb.

“Listen. I’m sure I deserve all this wrath, but I don’t actually know where it’s coming from. Care to enlighten me?” He walked over and sat down beside her. Just far enough that he’d have time to run away if she took a swing at him. Which wasn’t entirely out of the question.

Adore groaned before speaking.

“Bob is going around talking about how...how you told him that Courtney used to be a prude but now she’s a nymphowho can’t get enough of your stupid dick. It’s gross.”

Roy began to laugh, and only stopped when he saw the expression on Adore’s face grow even angrier, cheeks darkening.

“I...Adore, come on. I never said that.”

“Well, Bob says you did!”

“Well, Bob makes up a lot of shit! Who believes Bob?! And who knows why he said it?” Roy said, suppressing another laugh. He knew why, if he was honest. He’d been telling his friend about how extra needy Courtney had been lately, and he may have left out the part about how sad she was and exaggerated the sex part...just a little bit. That was harmless, right?

“People believed him!” Adore insisted, tears pricking her eyes. “And you need to put an end to it, or you’re just as guilty as him! If you really cared about her, you wouldn’t want people saying that shit.”

“I don’t really think Courtney would be-” Roy paused mid-sentence, remembering who he was talking to. Who the hell was Adore Delano to lecture him about this? If he really cared? He had given her the benefit of the doubt, seeing how upset she was, but now he was pissed. “Why do you care, anyway?” he asked. “You’re not even friends with her anymore.”

Adore’s face crumbled, tears filling her eyes, a hand covering her mouth. Roy suddenly felt overwhelmingly, unjustifiably guilty.

“Hey...come on…” he began, and then reached out to give her an awkward hug. “It’s...it’s all gonna be okay.”

“It won’t,” Adore sobbed.

“Sure it will,” he insisted.

“I didn't mean-“ Adore hiccupped, “-for it to go on...so long.”

“Okay so...end it. You’re the only one who can.”

“But what am I supposed to say? How will I explain?” Adore buried her face in her hands, Roy’s own hands hesitantly patting her back.

“It doesn’t matter what you say, Dory. She won’t give a shit,” Roy sighed. Was he really going to be the one to fix this friendship, after everything that happened? Apparently, yes. What a chump. “She really misses you, you know. She still wears that stupid bracelet every day.”

“I know,” Adore said, voice breaking.

“And she still...you know, she thinks that any day, you’re just gonna magically be friends again. You know how many times she’s said like…‘Roy, she’s not gonna possibly be mad at me on Halloween...She can’t hate me on Christmas...Roy, it’s my birthday, she’s gonna call me.’”

Adore closed her eyes, gulping for breath, too upset even to make fun of Roy’s terrible impression--he sounded more like a low-rent Marilyn Monroe impersonator than Courtney.

“Are you trying to make me feel worse?”

“No, I’m trying to say...whenever you decide that enough is enough...she’ll be ready. She won’t care. She won’t need an explanation. She’ll just be...so happy.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

Roy looked at her curiously, wondering if she knew how much he knew.

“Why wouldn’t I tell you? It’s the truth.”

“Yeah but…” Adore sniffled, wiping her face on her flannel shirt. “I know you hate me. I figured you’d be happy to be rid of me.”

“I don’t hate you. You hate me,” Roy explained slowly.

“I do not. I just...you know, you’re like that one obnoxious, know-it-all cousin that we all have.”

Roy frowned, brows furrowed.

“I don’t have a cousin like that.”

“Right, because you are that cousin, dork,” Adore laughed through her tears, shaking her head.

“Oh.” Roy paused, tilting his head. “Why do you think I hate you?”

Adore shrugged.

“I’ve never hated you. And...even if I did, I’d still want you to make up with Courtney, because I love her, and she loves you. And I want her to be happy.”

“What a hero,” Adore said, rolling her eyes.

“Look...I’ll tell Bob to knock it off with the nympho comments, okay?”

“Okay.” Adore sighed, wiping her eyes again. “Thanks.”

“Sure. You gonna be alright?”

“Yeah…” She swallowed, looking away, suddenly a little embarrassed about losing it and crying all over Roy, of all people. “Why do you have a basketball hoop, anyway? You're three feet tall and you suck at sports.”

“First of all. I'm 5’9” - a totally reasonable height. And second...it's Vanessa’s.”

Adore chuckled, looking back down at the ground. She knew what she had to do now, but she wasn’t sure how.

Pearl’s pencil moved in quick light strokes across the page, filling in the lines on a weed bouquet, with rolling paper for stems and nugs as petals. The cold frame of Violet’s bed continuously pressing into her back from Violet’s constant shifting above made it a less than comfortable position for her, but Pearl was content. Because honestly, no matter how sarcastic, bitchy or self-centered Violet could be, Pearl always jumped at the chance to hang with her; especially when it was just the two of them.

“Ugh, can you believe this. ‘Who Wore it Best?’” Pearl was suddenly engulfed in the aroma of lemon and berries as her sketchbook was replaced with a magazine and Violet’s long dark hair brushed against her face, tickling her nose.

“I mean obviously, none of them. That dress is sooo, fucking ugly.” Violet scoffed. “I mean, nothing. Nothing. Can save that dress. Those pumps on Jessica are really cute though.” Violet’s red fingernail dragged across the page.

She then snorted before the magazine disappeared and she shuffled back to her position on the bed, tucking a pillow under her chest to get comfortable again.

When it was just the two of them, things were different. Violet would never admit it but she was much different outside of school, outside of being surrounded by tons of people she didn't like. She was softer, sillier and more enjoyable. Pearl suspected it was because Violet felt like she had to keep her guard up at school. Like she had to keep everyone at a fair distance so that no one would ever have the upper hand on her--or maybe it was because she was a Gemini and just a crazy bitch. But either way, Pearl liked it.

The blonde smiled to herself before setting her sketchbook aside and climbing onto the bed beside Violet. “Let me see.”

“I know!” Courtney exclaimed, as Jinkx laughed beside her, “That’s why I always ask him to-”

She stopped speaking suddenly, pulse racing. Adore was standing behind Jinkx, waiting for her cue, and around her neck was something Courtney hadn’t seen since wrapping it in September--the choker that she’d given Adore for her birthday. She’d long ago accepted that Adore might have just tossed it in the trash, or donated it to Goodwill. But she’d kept it.

For the first time in so long, Courtney felt a surge of hope, overcome with so much joy that tears stung her eyes.

“Are you okay?” Jinkx asked, placing a hand on her arm.

“Yeah…” Courtney watched Adore carefully as she turned to answer a question from Willam. Had she noticed Courtney? Had she noticed that Courtney noticed her? Courtney turned back to Jinkx. “Yeah, I’m good.”

Courtney stood in the wings, watching the little exchange between Willam and Roy in the “graveyard,” laughing to herself. If Mrs. Maguire thought that her flirting was bad, she should take a second look at Willam. Courtney glanced around to see if anyone else was enjoying their scene as much as her, when she spotted Adore. She waited for Adore to look up and catch her eye.

Adore gave her the slightest little nod, her first sign of civility since the Fall. Courtney’s heart soared. What should she do? Somehow, as much as she wanted to fling herself into Adore’s arms and sob her eyes out, she knew that it would be the wrong move.

So she bit her lip, making a slight motion towards the stage to beckon Adore over.

“Willam’s fucking with Roy. It’s totally making him squirm,” she explained in a soft whisper.

Adore chuckled a bit, standing closer to get a look at them.

On stage, Roy grasped Willam by the shoulders and hissed his line in a stage whisper.

“Come away with us!”

Willam waited a beat. But instead of reaching for his whistle like he was supposed to, he collapsed in Roy’s arms, crooning, “Yaaas, Daddy!”

“You ass,” Roy pushed him off.

Courtney turned to Adore, giggling, glad to see her laughing too, searching awkwardly for something to say. She reached out and touched the veil of her habit.

“I can’t believe you’re playing a nun.”

“Apparently, a lot of nuns were gay. No men to answer to, just women, don’t have to marry some douchey old asshole. Lesbian havens.”

“Wow. Cool.” Courtney nodded. “Sounds like cheer camp.”

Adore stared at her, blinking.

“Huh...I never realized how gay cheerleading was…”

“Oh yeah. Super gay. You should have joined in with me. You’d have cleaned up,” Courtney finished with a sly smile.

“Yeah,” Adore snickered. “Too bad I can’t dance.”

“That doesn’t matter. I can’t dance.”

“Shut up, yes you can.”

“No, I can learn choreography. But according to Alyssa, I had no rhythm,” Courtney explained.

“Yeah, well...Alyssa is a twat.”

“True,” Courtney laughed. She caught Adore’s eye again, grinning at her. And when Adore smiled back, she really did feel like she might break down in tears.

So she looked away, swallowing hard, dared to reach out her hand towards Adore. When Adore allowed her to link their pinkies together, her breath hitched in relief. Even better, Adore took a small step closer to her, allowing Courtney to rest a head on her shoulder.

They probably had a lot to talk about. And it was possible that things wouldn’t ever truly be the same as they were before. But for now, in this moment, Courtney felt like everything was exactly perfect.

Spring had brought more than blossoming flowers—and “pollen,” as Violet constantly whined about—for Adore. That dark cloud that had been hovering over Adore for so many months had finally vanished. The light in her eyes and the genuine laughter that fell from her lips was a breath of fresh air for everyone, but mostly herself.

She had been in such a good mood, she even volunteered to join Violet and Fame for a sleepover.

And now, Violet, Fame and Adore found themselves in the battle of the bored-est; Fame was stuck in a cycle of indecisiveness as she changed around her MySpace theme for the fourth time that evening; Violet was surrounded with a mess of old clothes from her closet on the floor; and Adore, well she was stuffing her face with pizza as waited for Courtney to text her back.

It felt as if things had never changed as Courtney was complaining about her grandmother, who Adore wasn’t too happy to hear had moved in. It had actually come as a shock to Adore. Yes, she noticed Muriel around more often in the neighborhood, but Adore never would have thought that she’d move in.

If only Adore could have been there for that conversation between Courtney and Karen.

Adore knew that it would be the thing she would always regret the most about pushing Courtney away--all the time and moments she should have been there and she wasn’t. The stories she could have been a part of, but now would only hear secondhand, through Courtney’s animated storytelling.

Adore willed away regretful tears before they came. There was no reason to shed sad tears now. She and Courtney were in a better place now.

Maybe, with time, they could even be better than before.

“Ugh, no. I can’t do this!” Violet suddenly announced, crumpling up a blouse and tossing it across the room in frustration.

Adore arched an eyebrow, waiting for Violet to elaborate.

“What’s wrong?” Fame asked, only glancing over at Violet, who was now sitting with her arms crossed, a pout forming on her lips.

“Wassup, Vi? Can’t find your favorite skirt?” Adore joked.

“Shut up!” Violet snapped, “No, I-I’m just… I need a break. I’ve been conceptualizing this dress for nearly two weeks now. And I don’t even like the fabrics together. I mean they’re sooo, fu-cking tacky.” Violet emphasized her point by tossing clothes in the air around her.

“Yeah, and I can not with this theme. I really wanted a theme that would incorporate everything that I am.” Fame pushed her desk chair away from Violet’s computer.

“I didn’t think there was anything wrong with it. You had one of the cutest themes in school,” Adore tried to reassure Fame.

“Yeah, but it didn't say ‘FAME!’' she threw her hands up giving her best spirit fingers. “When someone clicks on my page they should instantly know ‘this girl is not like the rest.’”

“Why don't you just, put some pictures of a chicken as your background, and I’m sure we can find an audio of chickens clucking on the internet and call it a day. I mean everyone will definitely know ‘this girl is not like the rest,’” Violet suggested, causing Adore to choke out a laugh.

“I’m not sure whether to be insulted or… because that was actually a pretty good idea-”

Fame’s answer was followed by Violet’s famous screech of, “Hell no!.

“What?” Fame questioned.

“You’re an idiot,” Violet shook her head, climbing on her bed and settling beside Adore. “Do not put chickens as your background and please do not even think about an audio of chickens clucking, because I will never visit your page ever again.”

“Ugh, whatever,” Fame rolled her eyes, before focusing on Adore. “What do you think?”

“I wanna dye my hair,” Adore responded, gladly leaving the chicken conversation behind.

“Wait, huh?”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Adore sat up, tucking her feet under herself. “I think it's time for a change.” She gestured to the two-toned black to a faded blue greyish hair upon her head, the turquoise dye from the summer almost completely gone.

“Wh-” but before Fame could even finish her sentence, Violet let out something between a squeal and a roar of excitement, shocking the other two girls, as she bounded off the bed and started digging through her closet.

“Fame, come on, put on your shoes. We have to do this before she changes her mind. I mean, I had planned to just cut all her hair off tonight in her sleep, but this is so much better!”

“Wait, what?! OUCH!” Adore tumbled off the bed, trying to untangle her legs from beneath her.

By the time she was right side up, Violet and Fame already had their jackets and shoes on their feet.

“You wanted to cut my hair?”

“Adore, only in theory,” Fame tried to reassure her, “now put on your shoes and let's go.”

Adore swatted her hand away, “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“No, but neither did you. You were the one walking around here like some kind of dehydrated smurf, these last few months, so let's go.”

Violet began to pull Adore out of the room before she could even get her shoes on.

“Ugh, I don’t even know why you let it get this far.” Violet shook her head, whipping the dye together in the bowl.

“Tell me about it...” Fame’s disappointed tone made Adore smile. “The blue was fading three months ago. Violet, I told her to let me handle it back then.”

“She doesn’t listen.” Violet rolled her eyes as Fame draped an old towel around Adore’s shoulders.

But in spite of being the object of their derision, Adore felt amazing. In the drug store earlier, she’d chosen a bright, fiery, cherry-red. It would be glorious, a real statement--and it wouldn’t interfere with the play, since she’d be wearing a nun habit the whole time anyway. She was practically bouncing as she sat on the toilet seat in Violet’s small bathroom.

“You both just need to focus on not fucking my hair up. Because if I end up bald because of you two, I’m ready to fight,” Adore joked.

“We know what we’re doing,” Violet reassured her.

“Honestly, all this kinda makes me want to dye my hair,” Fame shrugged, looking thoughtfully at her reflection.

“Omigod! Please go red with me,” Adore begged excitedly. She loved the idea of more people joining in on the fun.

“Hmm, maybe. Not that bright though, maybe a bit more auburn-ish.”

“That… would look so good on you.” Violet’s eyes lit up at the idea of Fame’s famously blonde hair a darker red.

“You think?” Fame tossed her hair, fluttering her lashes at both of them.

“Yes, let’s do it!” Adore cried, gung-ho and excited, bouncing up out of the chair.

“Calm down, bitch,” Violet said, shoving her back into the chair. “One victim at a time here at Chez Violette.”

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