mikvere-blog

[mikvere-blog]

claire.

          did you think i forgot ?  it was getting harder and harder to  pretend  .  to pretend like there wasn’t anything significant enough about them to remember nor  forget  .  she was  tired  .  exhausted  .  and pretending  ?  it was  draining  her  .  tiptoeing around past feelings that were slowly  creeping  in  .  pretending  that what they had was merely a  teenage fantasy  ,  pretending it wasn’t  real  .  so she ignored it the best she could  ,  avoiding conversations that would lead them down a path of  nostalgia  .  acting as if they were nothing but  strangers  with  memories  ,  as if they were  meeting  all over again  .  it was getting harder and  harder  .  his question sent  chills  down her spine  ,  reminding her that she could only pretend for so long  .  it was only a matter of time before her repressed feelings would  bubble  over  ,  spilling out of her like boiling water left unattended  .  she could turn it off or she could  drown  in it  .  and his question was the  ultimate  motive to  choose  .  “  i mean ,  i don’t know …  yeah ,  i guess ?  ”  the conversation she had tried so desperately to  avoid  was beginning  .  “  it didn’t exactly seem like you  remembered  .  ”  @mikvere

he doesn’t really know why he asked it. maybe he was just getting irritated with this game they’ve been playing -- who can pretend there’s nothing between them the longest ? -- but regardless, the words slip out faster than he can stop them, and they’re followed by an incredulous scoff. there’s just something about the situation they’re in that prompts him to be more HONEST -- both with her and with himself. and he’s never considered himself to be an instigator, but he also never considered that he’d come back to his hometown and possibly never leave it -- so, really, ‘ anything can happen ’ is a solid motto to live by right now. “ did you forget? ” he asks in a tone that implies he’d be shocked if she said yes. his eyebrows knit together and his arms move to cross over his chest, shaking his head idly as he tries to find the right words to say. ( it’s interesting, how he has to try so hard to be honest with her -- how acting like everything was fine came so easily. ) “ i didn’t, ” he concedes, finally -- and he sounds defeated. and he is, sort of; in a way, he’s surrendering, waving a white flag, forfeiting the game. and anybody who knows anything about mika knows there’s nothing he hates more than LOSING. “ i couldn’t. ” his eyes wander, avoiding meeting her gaze as much as he possibly can. “ -----i called you, claire. so many times, i ---- i called. i even fucking ---- i almost came back a couple times, just ‘cause i ----- just ‘cause i wanted to see you. so no ---- i didn’t forget. ”

[mikvere-blog]

asher.

        ash’s nerves were at an all time high because of their current situation, causing him to go through cigarettes quicker than he used to — at least he didn’t have to buy the damn things anymore. he found himself sitting on one of the benches on the green, putting a cigarette in his mouth before lighting it. “this town is an actual shit show now,” he muttered as he took the first inhale of his cigarette.

his attempts to stop smoking are futile at this point -- the problem is that there’s only so many cigarettes in town, and he doesn’t really have the balls to go breaking into stores, especially the ones that people have already seemed to stake their claims on. so when he spots a familiar face with a freshly lit cigarette between his lips, he strolls over as casually as he possibly can, because, truly, he doesn’t want asher thinking all he wants out of him is a nicotine fix. ( it’s a plus, sure, but it’s not all he cares about. he’s not that much of a dick. ) “ as if it wasn’t before, ” he mumbles as he moves to sit beside the other, leaning his elbows forward on his knees. “ ----those fuckin’ kids think everything’s gonna be peachy keen if they just believe in themselves. are they delusional? we’re literally fucked. ”

[mikvere-blog]

Calum at LAX - 5/10/16

[mikvere-blog]

🌸

three things mika likes about … EMMELINE.

her expectations. what she wants from him is nothing more than attention & playful affection; and that’s exactly what he’s willing to offer. she doesn’t want any strings and neither does he, so he’s perfectly comfortable spending time with her knowing he doesn’t need to put up any fronts to protect her from getting hurt.

her lightheartedness. she’s the kind of nice where he’s not afraid to poke fun at her, because he knows she won’t take it to heart ( or she’ll pretend she will so he’ll pretend to grovel for her forgiveness ). most of their time spent together is just them enjoying each other’s company, simply because it’s better than being alone.

her lack of judgment. aside from his family, and sometimes even more so than his family, she’s one of the only people who knows what mika is afraid of, what gets him down, and what pisses him off. she listens to him earnestly, with only the intent to understand – which is wholly the reason he’s so prone to telling her how he feels.

[mikvere-blog]

🌸 ( u know i had to do it to them )

three things mika likes about … NATALIA.

her naivety. as much as he hates it, mika’s a pretty jaded person; he feels like he’s experienced a lifetime of bullshit and he’s only twenty-two. whenever he talks to nat, he feels like he can let go of that for a little bit. it’s also just funny, in a sweet sort of way; sometimes he’ll say something that seems so casual to him, and she’ll look completely horrified by it. 

her sensitivity. she always seems to know when something is wrong, and even though mika is still learning how to accept people’s help ( especially from his step-siblings ), it soothes him a bit – subconsciously, at least – to know that she’s there.

her forgiveness. mika can count on one hand the amount of people who aren’t holding a grudge against him for disappearing for three years, and nat is one of them. on top of that, she’s never gotten particularly angry with him, even when he’s been less than kind to her – and now that he’s back and everything he left behind is catching up with him, that gives him even more of a reason to try to repair their relationship; or build one where he refused to before.

[mikvere-blog]

🌸

three things mika likes about … LUCA.

his positivity. he’ll never admit it, though, and he’ll most likely pretend to be bothered by luca’s kindness. mika usually rolls his eyes and turns his nose up at anybody who exudes THAT much sunshine, but who can resist a smile when that boy is around? 

his tranquility. ngl, mika is constantly pent the fuck UP and doesn’t know how to calm down. he doesn’t know how or why, but luca has this tranquil energy that seems to affect everybody around him. even if it’s unspoken, mika appreciates that more than anything.

his humor. it’s just precious. mika’s used to hanging out with people who are so overloaded on testosterone that the only jokes they can think to make are about either sex or something moderately degrading or offensive, so luca’s sense of humor is like a breath of fresh air. 

[mikvere-blog]

♯

♯ : what types of genre my muse prefers to listen to.

generally, mika sticks to rap/hip-hop ( kendrick lamar, denzel curry, tyler the creator, brockhampton, smino, etc etc ) and r&b ( H.E.R., daniel ceasar, ella mai, bryson tiller, SZA, PARTYNEXTDOOR, blackbear, etc ) but he’ll occasionally listen to oldies from the 70′s and 80′s – whatever his parents played when he was a kid.

[mikvere-blog]

💜

💜- a memory about one of their loved ones, happy or sad

MAY 25TH, 2016. ☓ * ⋆ “ MIKA ! ” —– solana’s voice rings out over the tumult and commotion, waves of bodies in black caps and gowns and cords and sashes pouring out from the double doors as if they can’t leave fast enough. can you blame them ? they just graduated – they’re all certified adults ™  now, or whatever. mika’s head whips back and forth as he tries to pinpoint the source of his mother’s voice ( hand moving up to prevent his cap from flying off in the process ), and it doesn’t take him long; she’s standing on the curb alongside his step-family, his father and a dozen members of his maternal family, and instantly, a wide grin spreads across his face.

( she hadn’t told him they were coming. in fact, a few of them – cousins, aunts, uncles – had told him they couldn’t make it for one reason or another. and after a while, he decided he was fine with that – they’d see the photos eventually, he reasoned. but leave it to his mother to make it happen, let alone to make it a SURPRISE. )

clutching his diploma in one hand, he weasels his way through his former classmates, ducking occasionally to avoid accidentally photobombing any sentimental family photos until he gets to his family – and all at once, they envelop him in a massive, nearly suffocating group hug. he’s at the center of the commotion, his family cheering happily, kissing his head, and he’s laughing so hard his lungs hurt.

they make their rounds, putting leis of flowers over his head, some of them with dollar bills folded into flower shapes -- he hugs them all, one by one, thanks them for coming, tells them ( sheepishly ) that he loves them, but only if they say it first. he fist-bumps a few of his younger cousins ( are they actually related, or just the child of a family friend? mika’s not entirely sure, but everyone’s a cousin in the thompson family ), and coos over his littlest cousin, who’s just barely old enough to walk and looks very confused by all the noise and motion around her. his father gives him a hug, tells him he’s proud of him, and adjusts all of his cords and leis; mika smiles at him and laughs quietly when he fixes the tassel on his cap. ( “ it goes on the right side, mika. did you forget to turn it during the ceremony? ” )

by the time he reaches his mother, he has to crane his neck to see over the accumulation of leis he’s gathered from the rest of his family, and he grins at her with a slightly overwhelmed laugh. she smiles back at him and takes a few of the leis off, holding them delicately so as not to crush the flowers. then, she pulls him into a hug, tighter than any of the ones from his aunts or uncles or cousins, and he lets out a heavy sigh as he wraps his arms around her.

“ i am so proud of you, mikaere, ” she presses a kiss to his temple, and he can feel the way her breath stutters, the wetness of her cheek against his head. she’s crying. “ ------i know it’s been hard for you. i know. ” and, shit, now he wants to cry, too.

when she pulls away, she places her hand on the back of his neck and presses their foreheads together, the same way a few of his uncles had just a few moments ago. it’s tradition -- he’s been doing it all his life to everybody in his family, but this time, it hits him somewhere between his heart and his stomach so hard he has to physically clench his jaw to stop himself from crying. he sniffles and closes his eyes, because he knows if he keeps them open, he’ll start bawling any moment now. 

( he leaves soon. in a few months, he’s going to be hundreds of miles away. and he never gave a single thought to ask his mother how she felt about it. )

“ you did it, tama. i’m so proud of you. ”

[mikvere-blog]

mika && santiago !

Send 🌸 for three things my muse likes about yours.

[mikvere-blog]

♫

♫ : a song that my muse plays on repeat a lot.

untitled 02 | 06.23.2014. by KENDRICK LAMAR.

“ stuck inside the belly of the beastcan you please pray for me?get god on the phonesaid it won’t be long. ”

it’s the perfect hype song. he pretty much zones out whenever he's working out or practicing soccer drills, so he'll unabashedly put one song on repeat and just listen to it until he's finished exercising.

[mikvere-blog]

mika && santiago !

Peer into my muse's memories

❤️- A happy memory that makes them smile

💙- A sad memory that makes them cry

💛- A memory that makes them feel angry

💚- A memory that makes them feel guilty

💜- A memory about one of their loved ones, happy or sad

💔- A memory that leaves them feeling lonely

❣- A memory that leaves them laughing

💕- A memory about their significant other

💞- A memory about their children

💓- A memory about their friends

💗- A memory about a good deed they did

💖- A memory that made them feel special

💝- A memory that made them feel loved

💘- A memory that gets their heart pounding

💟- Wildcard!!!

[mikvere-blog]

mika && santiago !

ASK MY MUSE ABOUT THEIR MUSIC TASTE.

Send a music note to ask my muse about their taste in music.

Send ♩  to learn the very last song my muse listened to. Send ♪  to learn my muses go to break up/down in out song. Send ♫ to learn a song that my muse plays on repeat a lot. Send ♬ to learn a song that my muse knows all the words to. Send ♭  to learn a song that my muse absolutely can’t stand. Send ♯  to learn what types of genre my muse prefers to listen to.

[mikvere-blog]

bunchofrpmemes‌:

My muse knows how to…

bake a cake from scratch | ride a horse | drive stick | speak a second language | dance | catch a fish | play an instrument | throw a punch | build a deck | ice skate | unclog a drain | program a computer | change a flat tire | fire a gun | sew | juggle | play poker | paint | fly a kite | sculpt | write poetry | change a diaper | sing | shoot a bow and arrow | ride a bike | swim | sail a boat | do a back flip | play chess | give CPR | pitch a tent | flirt | stitch a wound | read palms | use chopsticks | write in cursive | use an electric drill | braid hair | make a campfire | make a mixed drink | do sudoku puzzles | wrap a gift | give a good massage | jump-start a car | roll their tongue | do magic tricks | do yoga | tie a tie | skip a rock | shuffle a deck of cards | read Morse code | pick a lock

Bold all that apply:

[mikvere-blog]

claire.

         she’s  nodding  ,  a collection of  uncertain  nods  ,  her head tilting to the side slightly and her eyes squinting as they glance everywhere  but  him  .  it’s almost as if she’s trying to convince  herself  that’s why she came here  ,  just to make sure that they were okay  .  not to  see  him  ,  or to  touch  him  ,  or to hear his  voice  ,  or to ask him  how  it was so easy for him to just walk away from  her  .  just to see if they were  okay  .  they’d always been so good at that  ,  simplifying their situation  .  tiptoeing around actual feelings  ,  dancing with  blindfolds  on  ,  keeping their relationship as  effortless  as possible  .  they were a hand painted  masterpiece  ,  but  chose  to only view it in black and white  .  it wasn’t until he  left  that the paint started  dripping  ,  colors  bleeding  through her walls  ,  her heart  .  covering her in their shades of  blue  and  purple  and  red  until she was  stained  from head to toe  .  they hadn’t been black and white  ,  they hadn’t even been close  ;  their gray tinted world was violently more vibrant than she could have ever expected  .  but that  didn’t  matter and she would do  anything  to watch the colors swirl down the  drain  of her shower  .  she wanted them to be  simple  ,  to be  easy  .  it wasn’t supposed to  hurt  ,  it wasn’t supposed to be  hard  .  it was a  deal  that they had made and she would  stand  by it  .  and the space  ?  it’s  continuing  to collapse  ,  threatening to fill with the  colors  she was trying so hard to  repress  .  breathe  .  she swallows harshly  ,  her eyes unable to keep looking  beyond  him  ,  captivated by melted chocolate as he leans further towards her  .  his gaze was  hypnotizing  ,  gripping  ,  as if she were a  collection  of poems and he were a poet  seeking  inspiration  ;  as if words were printed upon each celestial hill and slope of her delicate features  .  she’s  nodding  again  ,  the words in her eyes  failing  to reach her tongue  .  “  yeah ,  yeah -  of course .  ”  her words are barely audible  ,  and the strings that were once attached to him are  looping  around them both  ,  threatening to pull her closer  .  but she resists  .  “  why else would i be here ?  ”  she asked ,  “  i mean ,  it’s not like …  it’s not like we  broke up  or anything ,  you know ?  ”  simple  .  uncomplicated  .  gray  .  “  it’s not like we were  in love … .   or anything  .  ”  she clears her throat with a  laugh  ,  “  just . .  friends ,  and i wanted to make sure we still were .  ”

he narrows his eyes, watching her for just a moment longer when she confirms his suspicions -- at least, the one he’d voiced. in reality, he thinks there’s so much more to it; he wants to ask, wants to know if she’s beating around the bush the way he is too, wants her to tell him the practiced, honest glint she’s always had in her eyes is a defense mechanism, the same way the calculated furrow to his brow and the constant rigidity of his body is. it’s like a GAME, he thinks -- they take turns playing, trying to trick each other into thinking they don’t care, trying to prove that whatever’s going on between them hadn’t grown past what they’d planted years and years ago. that’s the thing about it; mika assumed that if he left it alone, ignored it, it would shrivel up and die off the way flowers do when you stop nurturing them. but it -- whatever THEY were -- grew more like IVY, infesting every waking inch of this place with nobody there to trim it and stave it off, so the moment he set foot back in this god-forsaken town he’d be inexplicably, irrevocably TANGLED in it. ( he’s still trying to figure out whether or not it’s poisonous. ) “ i don’t know, ” he admits, and it’s not a lie. after a moment, he lets out a scoff disguised as an aloof chuckle. “ -----to tell me i’m a piece of shit. that i should’ve called. that you thought i’d disappeared, or --- or gone to jail or something. ” he’s just parroting all the things people have said to him at this point. and he can’t blame any of them -- which, among other reasons, is why he’s so hesitant to believe her. ‘  it’s not like we were in love or anything.  ’ he’s not visibly affected by the words -- outwardly, all he does is blink and swallow. but, god, does it affect him; he feels a wave of something UGLY churn in his chest, and he can’t tell the difference between disappointment or jealousy or whatever else it might be. “ we are, ” he confirms again, short and sweet, and it’s meant to be conclusive, it’s meant to say that’s it, that’s all there is to it, but the lingering heaviness in the air screams NOT YET. and, inevitably, he caves to it after a few seconds of silence. “ -------d’you want ---- d’you want to shower? ” he asks, and he’s never sounded so awkward in his life. “ ----it’s still raining, so you can, uh --- you can stay here, if you want. ‘til it... until it stops, i mean. ”

[mikvere-blog]

𝕞𝕚𝕜𝕒𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕓𝕒𝕣𝕔𝕝𝕒𝕪. ➝ music taste, june 2019.

[mikvere-blog]

[mikvere-blog]

emmeline.

the  moment  he’s  on  her  bed  her  hand  reached  out  to  him  .  there  wasn’t  a  hand  immediately  available  for  her  to  hold  onto  ,  so  instead  she  tugged  gently  at  the  hem  of  his  shirt  .  emmeline  slowly  rubbed  her  fingers  back  and  forth  along  the  material  .  she  wasn’t  sure  how  to  answer  his  questions  so  for  now  she’d  just  ignore  them  .  she  did  ,  however  ,  lift  her  chin  up  so  she  was  looking  directly  at  him  .  it  was  the  best  she  could  do  at  the  moment  .  she  felt  WEAK  ,  she  was  weak  .  “  just  don’t  feel  myself  ,  “  she  was  finally  able  to  mumble  out  a  response  to  him  .  she  tugged  again  at  the  hem  of  his  shirt  ,  hoping  he’d  take  the  hint  to  come  and  lay  with  her  .

he’s familiar with the feeling of her hands on him, asking for him attention in one way or another. it’s never been like this, though -- he’s never seen her look so... sad. and sad isn’t the best word, because there’s so much more behind the ache he can see in her eyes; but he’s too focused on her to think of a better way to phrase it right now. “ ------me either, ” he breathes out, swallowing thickly as his mind flickers through the events of the past week or so. he finally catches the hint when he feels her tug at him once more, and he slowly moves to lay down, his movements sluggish and careful; once he’s beside her, he opens his arms to let her rest against him however she wants. “ ------wish everything would just stop for a second, y’know? ” it’s a whisper, because he’s sure that if he spoke any louder she’d be able to detect the way his voice wavers, fearful and small. “ ----just wish it would stop. ”