#( some of these are old with silent muses rn. )

[scatterpatter]

What’s your/y’all’s favorite songs rn

OHHHHH how to narrow it down!

We're waist deep back in Dirt Poor Robins brainrot- some I've had on repeat is Wax Cylinder Sonata, Masquerade, and Fever Dream, JUST to name a FEW

Oooo a few other randoms Ive had on repeat are:

Map of the Problematique by Muse

The Weight of Dreams - Greta Van Fleet

The Will of One - The Protomen

History Repeating Pt 2 (One Last Time) - The Megas

Old Money - MTG

Love Psalm - Silent Hill Book of Memories

I can keep going but i think you get the idea BDBSNANSNAMF

[shivada-jade]

Intertwined Fate (2)

HAHEHAEHAHE look who decided to write a small continuation of intertwined fate

characters: various (but we're in mond rn) warnings: taken place before 1.6 (also written before 1.6)

The traveler is an enigma you fear you will never be able to face. They're just too... two-faced. Not in a bad way, but you can tell in front of vision wielders that they were not themselves. From your own observations, the Traveler was very... open.

"Daamnnn Diluc's kinda... hot. HAHA get it, chat? He's got that fire inside him, you know?" You hear the blonde say to Chat. Perhaps that was the nickname they called Paimon, but not even the flying fae noticed it, which concerned you.

You silently cringe while swirling around a wine glass with cranberry juice inside it, sitting on the second floor of Angel's Share. Today, the Knights planned to hold a birthday party; though, you had not talked to Jean in years, you were delighted to know you were invited. You'd still rather sit alone than converse with the Knights and a bard you hardly knew. It gave you an opportunity to speak with your old friend, but with Traveler hanging around, you doubt you'll be able to speak with the Acting Grandmaster.

The foreigner stopped, half-way in front of you while climbing the stairs after making their, ahem, their comment about the bar tender in the first floor. It was odd how they would jump on the tables and run in circles, blabbering about some sort of whale? Whaling, they called it. Whaling for Jean.

You shake your hands before forcing yourself to get out of your seat and stand up to talk with the Traveler before they go talk with Jean.

"Ahem," You clear your throat and tap their shoulder. They turn around bewildered and slap their face. You wince, in shock, but not surprised they did that.

You continue, "Traveler, may I have a word with you?"

"Are they talking to me?" You hear them muse out loud to themselves. They make hand movements again and point to their left. "Hold on, chat. I'm gonna restart the game, because I am sure [Name] doesn't debut until the Golden Apple Archipelago."

You frown, tapping your fingers against your arm impatiently. "You hail from another world, but not the one you speak of in front of my friends," You state, not giving them time to restart the game. "Who are you, and who is Chat? How..."

You stop yourself and breathe in to ponder. You recall how you were caught off guard on how they knew so much about the vision wielders. They knew too much.

"How did you know of the origins who hold a vision?" Your own purple vision starts to glow dangerously. You overheard Traveler speaking about you so carelessly. Again, no one heard but you, but how did they know about you when you haven't shared anything about yourself?

You cover the glowing orb on your gold chain hanging off your side, ready for any danger or threat, because Traveler has been throwing red flags everywhere.

They tense, "Did you just fourth break the wall-"

You squint your eyes, "diD yOu jUSt BReAk tEH fORutH wAlL? Please, I am tired, I just want to drink my juice, greet Jean good night, and go home. Please just answer."

"OH MY GO-"

You can faintly hear the sound of a chair falling down, and it was not anyone in Angel's Share. It was a noise that closely sounded like a faint echo. It gave you chills.

"Ping! urmom123abc cheered x50! NOT U FALLING OFF UR CHAIR-"

Now you are sure that is not Traveler.

anyway!! here's the my little game plan that can change anytime: 1) this is originally meant for platonic love, so if i ever continue this further, expect it to be platonic 2) let's say if i do continue this, should the traveler be aether or lumine 3) no promises, but who are people most looking forward to meeting

for those who asked to be tagged, im sorry D: i am still debating if i want to continue this.. hm... many think

[just-a-cup-of-anxietea]

Tag 9 people to learn about their interests!

Tagged by @daydreaming-optimist 💖Thanks twin!

MUSIC

Fave genre? depends on: the weather, the time of year, the most recent artist(s) I have listened to, and the vibe of the book I last picked up. (But movie scores are always great)

Fave artist? Tay Swift or Cristophe Beck

Fave song? Depends on the vibe I'm seeking in a particular moment. Thomas Newman's Nemo Egg is probably one of my all-time favs. Moonlight Sonata too tho. AHH THERE ARE SO MANY GOOD SONGS.

Most listened song recently? One by Sleeping At Last

Song currently stuck in your head? Say Goodbye by Katrina Rose Dideriksen and Rob Rokicki

5 fave lyrics?

“Grace requires nothing of me." -One by Sleeping at Last

“Write what you know so they say; all I know is I don't know how to write or the right way to write it." -Watch What Happens by Kara Lindsay

"I wanna break every rule and cross every line. I wanna show all the stars how stars oughta shine. I wanna do as I please and knock the world to its knees, and go wherever the breeze is going" -Next Stop Anywhere by Alan Menken and Glenn Slater (+ Mandy Moore, Eden Espinosa, and Zachary Levi)

"I may fail but it doesn't mean that I won't try" - Try by Rob Rokicki (+ Jorrel Javier, Chris McCarrell & Kristin Stokes)

"Take me to the lakes where all the poets went to die; I don't belong, and my beloved, neither do you. Those Windermere peaks look like a perfect place to cry. I'm setting off, but not without my muse" -the lakes by Taylor Swift

radio or your own playlist | solo artists or bands | pop or indie | loud or silent volume I slow or fast songs | music video or lyrics video | speakers or headset | riding a bus in silence or while listening to music | driving in silence or with radio on

BOOKS

Fav book genre? travelogue or sci-fi probably?

Fav writer? Rick Riordan, Andy Weir, Jacques-Yves Cousteau, or Rachel Carson

Fav book? This is going to change in seven seconds. Life of Pi by Yann Martel

Fav book series? The Lunar Chronicles, PJO, Gaia Girls (going wayyy back to childhood)

Comfort book? Jessica Day George books (specifically the Princesses of Westfalin Trilogy), PJO, The Kane Chronicles, A Wrinkle in Time

Perfect book to read on a rainy day? Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O'Dell

Fave characters? how much time you got? Annabeth Chase, Rachel Dare, Mark Watney, Hermione Granger, Cress Darnel (I swear I'm not copying your answers @daydreaming-optimist we just have so much in common it's ridiculous), Lazlo Strange, Dr. Ellie Sattler (it took me forever to type that bc my L key glitched)... I'm gonna leave it at seven. Seven seems a good number.

5 quotes from your fave book(s)** that you know by heart?

“The planet has survived everything in its time. It will certainly survive us.” (Jurassic Park, Micheal Crichton)

“Dream up something wild and improbable" (Strange the Dreamer by Laini Taylor)

“The sediments are a sort of epic poem of the earth.” (The Sea Around Us by Rachel Carson)

"It's no use going back to yesterday because I was a different person then." (Alice in Wonderland, Lewis Carroll)

"Borders? I have never seen one. But I have heard they exist in the minds of some people." and "Otherwise he was glad we had missed our landing, for he still had three books to read." (Kon Tiki, Thor Heyerdahl)

**I added the (s) there. That wasn't in the original question but I wrote all these quotes and THEN realized my mistake. But I liked the quotes too much to change it to book singular.

hardcover or paperback* | buy or rent* | standalone novels or book series* | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or reading in silence | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary | rereading or reading just once

*depends on the book

TV AND MOVIES

Fave tv/movie genre? fantasy, documentary, sitcom

Fave movie? Like favorite book, this also fluctuates every seven seconds. Rn tho? Jumanji: The Next Level

Comfort movie? Ratatouille, Finding Nemo (p much anything Disney) , The Princess Bride, old Barbie movies, The Sound of Music

Movie you watch every year? Tangled

Fave tv show? Uhhhhh rn? The Good Place

Comfort tv show? Friends, The Good Place, and The Office (I know I know. very standard answers)

Most rewatched tv show? Friends (I'm seeing some overlap in these answers hmm)

5 fave characters? This is simply impossible. I love too many. Mary Margaret-Blanchard, Belle (from Beauty and the Beast), Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Chidi Anagonye, Woody Boyd, Katniss Everdeen (that's SIX i know but god I want to say SO MANY MORE SSKJGKJH)

tv shows or movie | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or binging | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once | downloads or watches online

tagging (no pressure): @the---hermit @kakooii @oh-toasty @c-avenged @of-the-elves @jellyfishwaters @unashamedly-enthusiastic @sous-la-mousse @alienlamp

[nomadical]

@wrathfulmercy​​ || a meme i’m too tired to find rn || but here’s the tag!

♤ for my muse to help yours undress

They’ve holed up inside an abandoned bed and breakfast. Or what was once one. So the sign, barely hanging on it’s rusted hinges outside, proclaims. Whoever had started out here? Did a good job. The windows downstairs were boarded up. Only a few upstairs remained open. Enough to let some light in during the night and not draw attention of any sort of candles or fire in the fireplaces, he figured.

There are a few stashes of supplies still left downstairs. Canned goods, necessities like deodorant and toothpaste and the like. Years old but they’ve come to learn a long time ago to treat even outdated stuff like it was gold. Mini soaps are still in the showers upstairs and the best part? Oh God the best part. There was running water. Not murky brown stuff that you wouldn’t trust either. Clear, clean water. Summer heat outside? Paul didn’t care it was on the cold side.

He’d taken a tumble a few days earlier. Onto some pavement that wasn’t very forgiving. His shoulder hasn’t been right since. There’s nothing broken, that he can tell. But he certainly did a number on it and it was taking some time to heal up. So said the pinch that reminded him when he reached down and went to pull his shirt over his head. The breath he inhaled through clenched teeth was sharp and pained.

But then... Brows pushed together when he felt a pair of hands curl around his wrists and lower them. The shirt fell back in place and standing there as if that noise summoned him was Rick. Paul’s head tilted to the side, a bewildered expression greeting the motion. Until it dawned on him when the other lowered his own hands to the hem of Paul’s shirt and began to guide it off that he was helping.

No words were exchanged as Paul lifted his hands. It was easier than crossing them like he’d stupidly done in his first attempt. The dirty, torn fabric was laid over the sink. Blue eyes never left Paul’s light ones and he felt his belt being undone. Lips part, press back together again and his nose crinkles at the corner as it hitches in a silent question.. What are you doing? But there’s no motion to stop the other. This is.. unexpected.

[addieatkins]

I saw [ADELAIDE “ADDIE” WOLFE] at a coffee shop in [BROOKLYN] today. She is a [TWENTY-NINE] year old [B&B OWNER] who’s been in NYC for [TWO YEARS] now. Every time we run into each other, they are always [RESILIENT & ALLOCENTRIC] but I’ve heard people say they can also be [DECEITFUL & TACITURN]. [GROWING PAINS BY ALESSIA CARA] reminds me of them every time it comes on the radio.

tw: child neglect, arson.  // @villagestart​

hello fellow kids, i am g (aka the dumb dumb behind @soulcfaman​ here with another character nobody asked for. without further ado, i give you my sweet baby girl, addie:

H I S T O R Y

Adelaide Atkins Savoy is the daughter of Edward Atkins, an English salesman/conman and Ann Savoy, a French teacher that came from a (somewhat) noble family.

The Atkins family moved to Peachtree, Georgia from England when Addie was five years old after a business initiated by Edward, her father, went awry with the Savoys. Addie’s grandpa, who probably lost the most out of the business con but loved Addie to no end and wanted her grandkid to have a decent life, decided to fly the Atkin-Savoy family and bought them a wonderful, luxurious home on Addie’s name.

Her childhood was… an odd one, to say the least. Her parents still acted like they were part of the Savoy family while in Georgia (and with the housing/jobs Addie’s grandpa got them, there was no reason to doubt them) so they fit perfectly with Georgia’s finest, they were living a double life of sorts, socialités in debt who schemed their wealthiest friends without them knowing. Her parents promptly got Addie to work alongside them, either as a distraction or as an active asset in their plans and she couldn’t quite deny her skills to them alas, Addie did stuff she wasn’t proud of, illegal stuff she could get away with because no one suspected the little girl with the ponytails.

Edward Michael Atkins Savoy, Addie’s younger brother was born when Adelaide was around eleven. Ann lost interest on Eddie pretty quickly so Addie pretty much raised the kid as well as she could after she turned thirteen. The two formed an unbreakable bond very quickly.

She learned many skills during her time with her parents: pick locking, html, pickpocketing, boxing, sewing (which served the young woman well when her parents decided to stop buying their kids clothes and she started making them for the two of them instead), whatever her parents required of her and whatever she could learn to make sure her brother was well taken care of, she’d learn.

CHILD NEGLECT TW The worst instance of their parents neglecting both Addie and Eddie happened right after Eddie turned five. Their friends found out about how the couple had played them and the Atkins family lost all respect within the community, so they quickly started to go in debt with banks and strangers to try to live the life Ann and Edward were so used to. By this time, the matrimony had mostly forgotten their kids to the point where they stopped providing for them unless they needed Adelaide for some job, so it was all Addie’s responsibility to not only care for her brother but her parents somehow. She started working (an honest job) when she was fourteen and never truly stopped.

ARSON TW when Addie was seventeen, one year from graduating high school Edward and Ann made a decision: they needed money to pay off credit debts and alas, they needed to burn down the house the Savoys had bought for the family because they needed the insurance money. Addie started to storage as many stuff as she could when she was informed of what was going to happen (was guilt-tripped into staying silent) and the night her parents actually burnt the house down, Addie grabbed Eddie, everything she had gathered, a car a friend had lend to her and flee Peachtree, the two siblings didn’t look back. Adelaide didn’t finish High School.

After the two siblings escaped Peachtree, they situated in New Orleans for about a year, where Addie worked around two, three jobs in order to take care of herself and Eddie. No longer after a friend encouraged her to give her testimony (and all the proof she had gathered that backed up the claim that the fire had been premeditated) and she put her parents in jail for arson and child neglect, gaining her brother’s full custody and whatever money was left from the insurance payment.

By Eddie’s request, the two siblings moved to California in 2011 where she met a young musician called Dillon Wolfe. The couple fell in love shortly after. Six years later, they were getting married, Eddie being the person walking Adelaide down the aisle.

The little Wolfe-Atkins family moved to New York in 2018.

After working as a waitress/bartender/cook/whatever she could get to make a living for her and Eddie throughout her life, Addie got a letter from the Savoy family one day with the news that her grandfather had died and had left behind a trust fund for her, enough money for the two siblings to live off comfortably for the rest of their lives. However, the oldest decided to only use enough to buy a nice house for the two of them and to open a modest, lovely b&b, their major source of income and save the rest as the family wasn’t in dire need for money anymore.

She and Eddy don’t really talk about their past a lot, unless any of the parts truly trust the person they tell their story to.

p e r s o n a l i t y

Most days, Addie is one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet, the kind of girl who smiles at everyone she meets and greets strangers with a smile on the daily. She likes making people around her happy. She thrives when people around her shine.

However, she can be very closed off and go as far as to be very deceitful? I mean, she is sharp, even though people don’t think she is because they write her off as a “southern belle” type, but what most people don’t know is she can be cunning whenever she sets her mind on it, she learned from a very young age how to take advantage of everything she had to get what she had her mind settled on.

The one thing she cares the most about in the world is her brother, Eddie. The boy is pretty much her own and has been since the day he was born, she would stop at nothing to make sure he is fine and he is happy.

Her hobbies include painting and sculpting (which she makes some money off of), gardening (the Atkins sibling’s home is a glorified zen garden by now) and designing (she sometimes uses this skill to make clothes for selling to friends and acquaintances).

Loyal to no end, good god. It takes a lot for her to feel comfortable with someone to call them her friend but once she does, she is the most loyal friend. Also the mom friend, no matter how close you are. If it’s even a little bit chilly outside and she sees a stranger shivering she WILL give them her sweater, has medicine and candy on her at all times.

She can be quite impetuous and extremely curious to the verge of being noisy, but never in a malicious way, unless you mess with someone she cares about.

Whatever you throw her way, she’ll land on her feet.

P L O T S

Best friend: Either the best friend who help the Atkins while the lived in Georgia (preferably) or a new friendship they’ve built in the years they’ve been in New york Addie would be nothing without this person. She trusts them more than her own shadow and would kill for them in a heartbeat.

Foreign cousins: Maybe someone seeking vengeance because of what Addie’s father did to the family? Maybe they don’t even know they are related, everyone loves having someone you can tell “well, now i know where the craziness comes from”.

Muse: Whenever she’s stressed or just… inspiration strikes, Addie calls this person to either use them as a model or a canvass. She has every line of their body engraved on her memory and she still finds them fascinating and could spend hours painting them. We can discuss what shape this plot could potentially take.

People she works for: Either her art or the clothes she makes, I’d love to write about any of those.

Friends, enemies, neighbours… just love my baby, she and Eddie will love you back!

so if you read that whole mess ily sm <3 if you wanna plot w/ us please shmash that lke button and i’ll come to you at some point of the day when i don’t feel like crying because everything.hurts. (i’m v sick. like... dehydrated type of sick BUT I’M TRYING NOT TO THINK ABOUT THAT RN)

[josephinelouiseobrien]

High School Reunion (2)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x OC

Synopsis: Jada Hale was Penelope Garcia’s best friend. They’d been through everything together - high school, relationships, breakups, a stalker, college, getting arrested and then joining the FBI. So when there high school reunion rolls around Penelope refuses to let Jada skip it - even if that means forcing a certain doctor to be her date.

A/N: a few peoples wanted me to tag them but rn tumblr isn’t letting me tag anyone and I’m having a hard time even linking stuff to my Masterlist right now. I’ll try to tag the people who asked in future chapters but if you know how to fix this problem please lmk.

Masterlist

——————————————————————————

Flashback:

It was junior year and all anyone could talk about was Jacob Tate - the dreamboat who’d only recently broken up with his supermodel girlfriend. In reality she’d dumped him, but he told a different story.

Rumor was that he was looking for a new ‘muse’ as he called it. He’d always been into photography and wanted someone who could become the main focus of his art.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the social spectrum, were Penelope and Jada. Unlike their classmates they were less focused on the drama surrounding Jacob Tate and more concerned with college admissions. Their dream had always been to attend Caltech he together and they weren’t going to let anything get in the way of it.

Only, Jacob Tate started focusing his attention onto Jada. Slowly as time went on she’d started straying from who she was.

It started with her appearance: her sweatshirts became crop tops, Her jeans became skirts and booty shorts. Then she dyed her hair, it’s previous light brown color was changed to an almost black lined with streaks of vibrant pink.

Then it was school: her grades started slipping - her focus switched from school to Jacob. After awhile she just stoped showing up - her attendance was down the drain at that point.

Finally she declared that she wanted to pursue a career in modeling. They made it official - Jada was dating Jacob Tate. He claimed she was his new ‘muse’ and told her lies about how he could make her famous.

Over time Jada even dropped Penelope. It wasn’t until her best friends parents were killed by a drunk driver that Jada reached out to her old friend. Of course the blonde didn’t welcome her back with open arms but over time they grew closer. And when she eventually dropped out of caltech and went underground, Jada was the only one to know about her whereabouts.

Then after months of penelope telling her that Jacob Tate was bad news - Jada came to the conclusion herself. The manipulation was one thing. She could deal with the emotional and mental abuse. But one thing that her mother had taught her that stuck was that a man should never lay his hands on a women.

All it took was one slap across the face for Jada to pack her bags and leave.

She expected the incessant calling, the crying voicemails. She even expected the threatening ones that he’d left when he’d clearly been in a drunken stupor - she could tell thanks to the slurring of his speech.

But then he started showing up at her parents house. He’d sit outside and cry - scream. Her parents called the cops multiple times and Jada took their advice. She blocked his number and all his social media accounts.

He somehow still managed to contact her. Whether it be through a friends phone or by creating a new social media account - he was stubborn.

Then one day she snapped - she couldn’t take it anymore. She got a new phone, new number, new phone carrier. She deleted any trace of her from social media. She packed up and moved in with Penelope - who at that point had ended up on the FBI’s hacker list.

And with the help of her best friend she deleted her entire identity. Her birth certificate - gone. Social security number - gone. Hospital records - gone. Jada Hale no longer existed to the world and for some reason it helped her sleep better at night.

It also helped attain a job at the FBI. Instead of throwing her in jail for virtually deleting herself from existence they used it to their advantage. They’d send her undercover and sneak her into places where they needed someone who could be anyone. She was a shadow.

——————————————————————————

“He hasn’t bothered me since.” Jada reassured. Based off of the mortified looks on both Spencer and Morgan’s faces they were a little more then concerned.

Spencer’s expression softened, “you never went to the police?”

It broke his heart to know that someone had treated her like she was nothing. To him, she was everything. It baffles him: ‘how could he treat someone so kind and caring like she was nothing?’

Jada shrugged, “it wasn’t as bad as it sounds, I promise. I mean, other people have had it so much worse.”

“Did you know that 99% of people who survive traumatic situations downplay what had happened to them.” Spencer replied softly, his eyes boring into Jada’s soul. “Almost all of them saying something all the lines of: ‘other people have it worse’.”

“No, I didn’t know that.” Jada whispered, her gaze then hitting the floor.

Morgan sighed, “are you sure you haven’t seen him since, kid? Cause this sounds like more then just some teenager with a broken heart.”

“I’m sure.” Jada replied only to recieve a nudge from Garcia. If she was gonna come clean she mind as well do it properly. “Sometimes I think I see him - but I have to be hallucinating or something.”

Spencer shook his head, “Jada-”

“You know what? Now that I’m saying this out loud I’m realizing how crazy it sounds.” Jada replied, waving it off completely. “I’m overreacting. Spence you don’t have to go to this stupid reunion with me.”

Spencer wouldn’t let her go alone - he couldn’t. Sighing he softly grabbed her hand, his eyes boring into hers. Confidence surged through him - when it came to her safety he’d defy every social barrier that held him back. “What about if I want to go?”

“Spence-”

“No, I want to.” Spencer continued, “come on, let me be your date to your high school reunion.”

Jada crumpled at that moment, nodding as she gave in. “Fine, but not because I’m scared but because I want you to be my date.”

Spencer blushed softly, an undeniable smile stretching across his face. Maybe she was just saying it to give him a chance to back out but Spencer couldn’t stop the butterflies from appearing in his stomach.

If he ever got the chance to, he’d treat her like she was the world - because whether or not he admitted it out loud, she was his.

——————————————————————————

The rest of the day was spent focusing on paperwork - other then the small mentions of the reunion that came up once and awhile. Emily had teased Jada about the video - somehow she’d seen it as well. Only at the mention of her high school years Jada didn’t feel the familiar tightening of her chest. Maybe telling someone about what had happened to her really did help her to move on.

Gathering her belongings, Jada said her goodbyes as she headed to the elevator. Once inside she clicked the button for the first floor, allowing her head to rest against the wall behind her and her eyes to fall closed in exhaustion. Only before the elevator doors could close Spencer slipped into the small metal box.

Jada furrowed her eyebrows as her eyes cracked open slightly. Usually he’d already be gone by the time she left - but she didn’t question it. “Hey, Spence. You going down?”

The man nodded, bouncing on the balls of his heels nervously. “Yep.”

Jada was too tired to question his strange behavior, instead simply shutting up as she waited for the elevator to descend onto the first floor. Only as she left the building she found Spencer following her. “Spence, don’t you have to go to your car?”

The man fumbled slightly with his words, “I just thought I’d walk you to your car today.”

“I didn’t tell you that story so you could worry about me, you know?” Jada replied sighing heavily. This was the exact reason why she didn’t tell anyone - she didn’t want to be pitied. “I’m a lot stronger then you think.”

“I know.” Reid mumbled, licking his lips nervously. “It’d make me feel better though - to know your alright.”

Jada sighed, “alright well my cars in the shop so I’m waiting for the bus. And before you ask, you don’t have to wait with me.”

“Let me drive you home.”

“Fine.” Jada caved, following Spencer towards where his car was parked.

The ride to her apartment complex was silent, and as the car slowed to a stop she found herself asking: “do you want to come in for coffee or something?”

Spencer was quick to nod, “sure.”

Jada set down a mug filled with coffee - but mainly sugar - in front of Spencer. She knew his coffee order by heart then again it wasn’t something she could easily forget, the first time they ever met he’d spilled his coffee all over her.

“So, do you want to talk about it?”

“About what?” Jada questioned as she took a seat on her couch beside Reid.

Spencer shifted slightly. “About jacob. Studies show that talking about trauma can help you move past it.”

“I wasn’t traumatized.” Jada corrected, “but I will answer any questions you have.”

“Okay.” Spencer nodded seeming to contemplate what he’d ask. Jada could practically see a lightbulb going off in his head as he came up with a good question. “How long were you two together?”

Jada’s eyes diverted to where she was playing with the strings of her sweater. “Almost two years.”

“Did he ever... get physical with you? Before the last time.”

Jada shook her head, “No. I would never let a man slap me around. Ever.”

“But, what he did - you might not be able to see the damage but it’s clear he still left some behind.”

Jada sighed watching his expression carefully. All she saw was fear - he was treating her like a piece of glass. She wasn’t going to break. “Don’t do that.”

“What?”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“like I’m gonna break. Like I’m some fragile little girl.”

“Fragile?” Spencer echoed in shock, his eyes wide at her revelation. “Jade, I don’t think your fragile. You’re the strongest person I know.”

Tears welled in the brunettes eyes at Spencer’s words and she found herself easily falling into his arms. At first the man found it awkward, but slowly he became more comfortable as he began to draw circles on her back until she fell asleep.

[fvaleraye]

Ashes and Dust

Heyyyyyy, would you look at that... another Scintillam chapter. Ngl, I hit a creative block super hard for a while. I had several WIPs that I wanted to do, but... like, once I started them, I didn’t really feel it, y’know? So, I decided to start fresh, and just. Work on something chill. So I did! This is gonna be another Charthos chapter, I’ll probably swap back to the gals pov soon, but I’m just feeling my old cranky pyromancer man rn Also, I would like to give a big shoutout to @artnerd1123 for proofreading the chapter for me, and helping fix some stuff that i missed/didn’t think about. Tyvm, Belle... I appreciate you... Anyway, I hope y’all enjoy reading...

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

The month of the Blazing Moon meant long days, and short nights. A dreadful heat washed over most of the land, as the name implied, save for the ever-chilled northern mountains, of course. The farmers across the land harvested their summer crops and prepared for the coming of fall. Though travel wasn't exactly booming in the suffocating summer heat- unless the travel led to a coast or someplace cooler- there were many who were unbothered by the temperature. The lizardfolk especially thrived during these times. On the other hand, pyromancers considered the Blazing Moon to be a holy month, if for no other reason than the fact that it preceded the coming of the Embered Moon, when the Rite of Embers would take place. To see a pyromancer out of their lands during these months was a rarity, but one could be seen walking the roads. An old, tired pyromancer. Charthos had been travelling for weeks. Magna Terra was not small, but the place he searched for was. Just a modest little hamlet in the middle of nowhere. In the Great Plains, no less- one of the biggest open spaces of absolutely nothing on the whole continent. It was easier to navigate than the Ashen Plains. No waist-high ash to trudge through. Roads were still sparse, though. And every direction looked equally identical. At least the sun was visible, that helped. And he had a passable sense of direction. And he remembered the little town from many, many years ago. It had something resembling sentimental significance for him. Something like that. Still wasn't easy to find. There weren't exactly towers scraping the clouds to tell him when he was getting close. If he was visiting one of the cities, this wouldn't be nearly as difficult. He huffed, embers and sparks leaving his old, splintered body. He watched the little sparks of life fall to the earth. At least this grass isn't dry yet. He mused. That would cause issues for the Uncharred 'round here, huh... He let out a quiet little chuckle. For a people who didn't use fire for much more than lighting the dark or warming things up, they sure did live in some flammable areas. A few suns pass, more of the same. Eventually, hints of brown wood, stone foundations, and gray smoke from chimneys started to peak over the horizon. Thank the fucking Traveller, I'm finally here. Or, well, close enough.

Another few minutes of trudging slowly on the path lead the pyromancer to the town square. It was a quiet town. Or, at least, it was supposed to be. There was a decent crowd gathered in the middle of the square, seemed like the whole town, or near enough. They were gathered around a woman in strange garb standing on a small makeshift stage. She was not a short woman- even if she was level with the crowd she would probably still peek over their heads- but she was still clearly human. At least, from what one could tell. She wore a pale dress with no sleeves, and ribbons circled her arms. Her face was covered but a wooden mask, the face of it painted with a fierce, purple visage, with horns protruding from the sides, her brown hair braided underneath it. Around her on the stage were a few other similarly dressed individuals, though, unlike her,  they were silent. The woman was yelling and gesturing with all the fervor and energy of a young, opinionated priest. But she wasn't a priestess. At least, not like one he had seen. He stepped closer to the edge of the crowd to better hear what had the strange woman up in arms.

"-nd one day, they will return! The great, scaled beasts of time immemorial!" She cried. "The dragons will return, and the skies shall darken beneath their great wings, as they take back what was once, what has always been, theirs, and destroy those who presume to own their lands, their world!" She began pointing to various members of the crowd. "All of you, all of us, will be wiped from this world, like footprints washed away in a rainstorm, as the fury of nature itself descends on us, and we will all be but ashes and dust! Unless we supplicate the great scaled ones as we once did! Mayhaps, they will even see fit to elevate us to their greatness! You need only-!"

Charthos began to walk away after realizing that the one he was looking for wasn't among the crowd, as well as getting tired of the woman's screeching, and the looks from the crowd. Doomsayers. Dime a dozen nowadays... He thought, given an exasperated sigh. He stepped away from the main square, and began making his way towards the residential area of the little town. He glanced over each home as he walked, looking for one in particular. They were all very similar; wooden walls and roof, at least two windows, chimney, stone foundation raising it above the dirt... the differences were aesthetic. Some had nice curtains. Others had cleanly painted roofs, or walls. A few had flowers, whether gardens of them, or simply a few on the window sill. It was downright pleasant. What I wouldn't give to live like this again. Even if only for a time. He brushed off the sentimental thoughts as he turned to one house, practically near the end of the edge of town. It was simple, like all the others. It had purple curtains, and rather... exotic looking plants growing in a side garden. He walked up the steps, and gave the door a small knock. There was some silence, and then he knocked again, this time louder. Footsteps started approaching the door, the sounds of several locks being undone sounded past the wooden surface. After a moment, a pair of gray eyes peeked past a crack in the door. They looked over the demon-infested, wooden man, and closed the door to undo another lock. The door creaked open, revealing a tired looking woman in patchy clothes. "May I come in?" Charthos asked, hesitantly. The woman just motioned him inside, and locked the door before turning to face him.

"What do you want, old man?" She asked tersely, leaning on the doorway of the dimly lit, but still rather charming abode.

"Hello to you too, Penelope." He replied, his tone jabbing at her.

"If you're going to be like that, get out." She spit, her tired voice laced with venom.

"Aw, I feel so welcomed. Every grandfather's dream." He sighed, crouching down in front of the fireplace. "I need a favor from you, dear."

"Of course you do." She let out a spiteful laugh, still leaning on the doorway. "You never write, let alone visit, unless you need something from me."

Uncomfortable silence settled over the room, the tension in the air thick enough to choke on. The man simply stared into the roaring flame in the stone fireplace, lost in his own head for a moment that felt like eternity. He didn't want to reply. He couldn't reply. Not with anything she would want to hear. Nothing he could say would make up for anything. Even if he wasn't facing her, he could feel her gaze piercing through him, bright and furious, like a bolt of lightning.

"Are you going to say anything?" She said, her frustrated tone slicing through the silence like a dagger.

"What do you want me to say?" He spat back, glancing over his shoulder. "I'm sorry? I've said that. I've said it so many times to so many people it's lost its meaning. Want me to say I was wrong? Well I was. Too late to change anything. What can I say that'll make you happy?"

Silence settled again. No answer came. She couldn't think of one. She just gave a long, tired sigh.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." He mumbled, turning back to the fire. "What are you cooking in here?"

She raised a brow at the question. "Excuse me?"

"What are you cooking in this fire?" He gestured to what was seemingly open air above the fire. "You're not warmin' up. Not in the middle of bleedin' summer. What are you cooking?"

After a brief moment of indignant hesitation, Penelope stepped away from the doorway, and waved a hand at the fire. The once orange and yellow flames turned black and purple, and all light they once produced vanished. In the center was a now visible deer's skull, being slowly and unnaturally devoured by the flames. Black magic. The pyromancer gave a small chuckle. "You really are like your mum." He said, tilting his head at it. "... how's she doin', by the by?"

"She's fine." The witch replied, tersely.

"... I'll take your word for it." He sighed. "How's your deadbeat pop?"

She returned with a sigh of her own, before giving an answer. "Hell if I know."

"I figured as much."

The two continued to stare at the dark flame in silence, as it casted dark and unnatural shadows over the room. The shifting shapes whispered indecipherably, in dead languages. Neither were very perturbed by it, but the girl was the only one really listening. That's why it was there, after all. After about half an hour of silence, the deer skull was gone, completely devoured by the flames, and with that, the black flames were gone near instantly, as well as the shapes, and their whispering. Light returned to the room, but silence was still dominant. Eventually, it was broken by another long sigh from the young witch. "I'll say it again. What do you want, old man?" He stared quietly at the open space where there was once fire. There were no embers. No smoke. It was as if it wasn't even there. An absolute void of space within the stone fireplace. Pristine. As if it had never been used once. He took a long, deep breath. He wanted to berate her. Tell her to maybe not make dealings with these things, but it would fall on deaf ears. Same as her mother. And besides. He wasn't one to talk, really.

"I need a coal." He said, finally. His request stilled the air in the wooden home.

After a moment of silence, the witch simply leaned over, reaching a hand into the fireplace, as a dark, viscous substance started to bleed from the stone. It wormed and writhed to the space where her hand rested, and formed into a small stone-like object. Darker than black, it seemed to suck the light out of the area around it. She handed it to him wordlessly, and he took it, stuffing it into a bag at his hip. With that now in his possession, he stood up, and looked to her. "Thank you, dear." He whispered, stepping towards the door. "I'll be going now. I know when I'm not wanted." He stepped out the door, and it was shut behind him. No goodbyes were exchanged, nothing more was said. Nothing more needed to be said. As he stepped down from the porch of the humble little house and back onto the dirt, he glanced back over his shoulder. "... I love you, dear." He said, wistfully. "You and your mum. I always did. The only flesh and blood I got left." He looked to the ground, his branches swaying a bit in the wind. "... and you." He added, seemingly to no-one in particular. Seemingly. "If any harm comes to her on account of you, I will know. And I will find you." With those final, ominous words, he started his trip out back out of town, a shape slipping out of his shadow as he left, to his next stop on this little journey of his.

[izzy-b-hands]

Eventuality Eventually

My first bit of Smile fic! Roger has bought a new van for himself/for the band! And it is...something. But of course, this is less about the van and more about the three goof balls that plan to ride around in it. Set in a loose-ish AU? If only because I’m doing real general research rn, so I might fumble things about the timeline as I go, if I write more after this one (which I would like to do!) Some Brian/Roger here as well, which I didn’t actually intend, but then I got going and suddenly here it is lol. 

A quick note too that Freddie is mentioned in this, but only in that this part of the timeline he was friends with them, and at this point was still using his old last name of Bulsara; just noting it so seeing that name isn’t a surprise!

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

“But does it run?” 

Roger looked horribly offended, his arms falling from their stretched out motion of presentation. “Of course it fucking runs! Wouldn’t have bought it, if it didn’t.” 

“I know,” Tim said. “It’s just that you like projects-” 

Roger shot him a dangerous look.

“And that’s a good thing! It shows preservation, and a willingness to put in hard work,” Tim continued. “We don’t want to be stranded again, is the thing.” 

“Was embarrassing, having your mum come pick us up,” Brian added. “She was so upset...” 

“It was awfully late,” Tim noted. “Can’t blame her; we did wake her up.” 

Roger frowned. “So you hate this van, is what you’re saying?” 

“We didn’t say that,” Brian said, but he didn’t unfold his arms or take a step closer towards the simultaneously rusting and rust-colored vehicle. 

“Safety comes to mind,” Tim said, trying to be diplomatic. “But I’m sure it’s better on the inside, isn’t it?” 

Roger smiled at that, and yanked open the side door of the van. It let out a shrill shriek of metal on metal, but Tim motioned for Brian to not say a word about it. 

“See?” Roger crouched inside and dropped into the passenger seat, pointing for them to take the two rows of seats behind the passenger and driver section. “Much better on the inside. You could sleep comfortably in this, if you wanted!” 

“There is a spring that nearly went up my ass,” Brian hissed to Tim, leaning awkwardly forward on his seat. 

“Nice material,” Tim said, running a hand over the worn and cracked leather. “Vintage!” 

Roger’s eyes were starry with happiness. “Exactly! That’s what I thought when I saw it. And good condition, considering the price.” 

“How much did you pay for this?” Brian asked. 

“It was a steal,” Roger replied with a grin as he leaned back in his seat, tossing his feet up on the dashboard, watching them with the cracked rearview mirror. 

“That’s not a number,” Brian said. “How much, in an amount with numbers, did you pay for this?” 

Roger looked wounded again, and internally, Tim sighed. They could go from being the best of friends to stabbing at each other in a heartbeat, these two. It made him think of fencers: neither stabbed to kill, but occasionally they landed a hit that bruised and then looked to him as some sort of ref, as if he should have somehow ripped the saber from the other’s hand before the blow could land. 

“I don’t know if it matters much, if Roger isn’t asking for us to give him any towards it,” Tim said. “Are you, Rog?” 

Roger shook his head. “Just toss me money for upkeep and fuel every now and again, or buy me dinner.” 

“Like your girlfriends then,” Brian snorted, and Tim reached an arm back to slap at his leg. 

“Yeah, but you don’t get what they get out of it,” Roger said as he stuck his tongue out at the mirror, his reflection sending it to Brian in the backseat. 

“A warm sweaty number of nights in the back of a rusty van?” Brian mused sarcastically. “Isn’t that basically what we have every time we drive back from a show?” 

“Those are notably less...” Roger paused. “Well. They’re fun, but not the type of fun-” 

“I think we get the picture,” Tim interrupted quickly.

“Oh, but I could paint a better one,” Roger grinned mischievously. “C’mon Tim. Let me use my brush and make that one blush.” 

But Brian was already blushing, and looking more frustrated by the minute. 

If he didn’t do something, the sabers would be tossed away, and they’d be fighting with fists, at least metaphorically. 

“Why don’t we finish the tour of the van, and then go for lunch?” Tim offered. “My treat?” 

It was a blessing that, as low on money as they could be on occasion, they were often food-motivated creatures. Tim included himself in that, and the promise of food, even if he had to buy it for himself, was what kept him going now. 

“Not much more to see,” Roger sighed, clearly still nursing some hurt. “There’s enough space back there for our gear, behind the coat rack they’ve apparently included on the second row of seats-” 

“Hey!” Brian shouted. “You ought to talk, you...” 

He fumbled, blushing somehow redder still, and Tim felt for him. It was obvious to him that both Brian and Roger were stumbling around feelings for each other, but neither of them made it easy. Truthfully, he was hoping they’d just finally confess to each other about it, or fuck, or both. 

He did have a bet riding with Freddie Bulsara on the fucking though, and a fiver to win if he was right and they did it within the next six months. 

Brian was still stuck as Tim tumbled out from his thoughts, and he gave him a gentle poke to the knee. 

“Are you going to say something rude to him, or not?” Tim asked. “Just wondering if we can go get lunch now, or if we ought to wait you out.” 

Brian gave him a look, then sighed. “No. I’ll make up for it later. Let’s go.” 

“That’s so sweet of you,” Roger laughed as he moved to the driver’s seat, keys jingling as he forced them out of his tight trouser pocket. “You’ll really give it to me later, huh? Make me cry?” 

Tim nearly blushed himself. Surely, Roger could hear himself, and knew how he sounded...

But then, he almost definitely did know, and that had to be supplying the shit-eating smile Roger was wearing as he glanced at them in the rearview mirror again. 

“I don’t ever want to make you cry,” Brian said, but Tim could not for the life of him tell if he was being sarcastic or genuine or if this was Brian trying to flirt. 

“Yet you did drop that amp on my foot,” Roger said as he started the van, that made an odd belching sound as it woke up. “And then I did cry and swear for two minutes.” 

“That was an accident,” Brian said. “Your foot was fine.” 

“You never did say sorry.” 

“I did so!” Brian protested, and tapped Tim on the shoulder. “You heard me; I did!” 

“You did, but you did say it while blaming him for your dropping your end of it,” Tim said. 

“He did make me drop it!” 

“I did not!” Roger shouted back, eyes half on the road and half glaring at Brian in the rearview mirror. 

Before Tim could beg Roger to keep his gaze more on the road, Roger hit the brakes hard enough to toss him out of his seat as he pulled them to a barely big enough street parking space. 

“Get out of my van!” 

“This is a band vehicle; I don’t have to go anywhere!” Brian’s usually soft voice was harsh now, and he was yelling more in Tim’s ear than anything else as Tim scrabbled off the floor and back onto his seat. 

“I’ll make you get out!” 

“Good, make me!” 

“I will!” 

“I’d like to see you fucking-” 

“Will the two of you kiss, or fuck, or whatever you need to do to make this stop?!” Tim shouted, and they fell silent.

He had planned to say that in his head, and it dawned on him after another beat of silence that he had said it aloud instead. 

They were both blushing, bright red, eyes wide. 

Roger swallowed hard. “That obvious, is it?” 

“You’re both so bad at hiding it,” Tim said weakly. “I mean that kindly, as much as I can.” 

Brian nodded. “Well?” 

“Well what?” Roger asked softly.

“Are you going to make me get out of the van?” 

Roger gave Tim a nervous glance, then slipped out of the driver’s seat and moved past him to Brian. 

He stayed long enough to see the kiss, then slipped out of the van quietly as Brian pulled Roger down with him onto the seat. It was a blessing that the back of the van didn’t have windows except for one at the far back door. 

He pulled the keys from the ignition and pocketed them before he left, his destination the nearest shop that had food that would qualify as lunch and be fairly cheap. 

With one detour, to the nearest phone box. 

“Bulsara? Yeah, just wanted to give you an update. A kiss, and they might be fucking in the back of our new van. If you’d like to come down and have lunch with us, you could give me that fiver right away...” 

[lcngview]

✈️ — ⌜park jimin, cismale, cis male⌟  ↝  have you heard ? it seems like the heir of the HAE was very close to Liam Yu too. they go by ISAAC and they were Liam's MUSE. their network is of 87M and they’re only TWENTY FOUR … what a burden it must be. i heard they can be very ENERGETIC and LIGHT-HEARTED but these last few months, their RESTLESS and EMOTIONAL personality has been showing more. the media is sure having a filled day with them! i hope this road trip with friends will help them. did you know that LATE NIGHTS AT THE DANCE STUDIO, NEW TATTOOS THAT HIS PARENTS CAN’T SEE,  A GRILLED CHEESE WITH TRUFFLE OIL AND HANGING OUT WITH THE FAMILY DOG DURING DINNER PARTIES really show their true persona ? maybe Liam was the only one who knew that.

hello my darlings!! i’m lis and this is my cinnamon roll isaac. he’s a old muse of mine that i’ve decided to repurpose so there’s still some random holes in his backstory i still have to figure out so pls excuse me. i’m kind of a hot mess all the time honestly but ily all already and im v excited to start writing with you! you can find me on discord ( *𝙡𝙞𝙨.#2158 ) or we can just chat on tumblr <3

oh also you can find isaac’s pinterest here! its not totally finished but u know.

basics.

name: isaac hae gender: cis male. age: twenty-four ( 24 ) sexuality: homosexual. birthday: december 14th. zodiac: sagittarius hometown: new york, ny.

physical.

faceclaim: park jimin. hair: naturally black, currently dyed and styled like this. eyes: brown. build: despite his small stature he has an athletic build with strong legs from dancing.

tattoos: [he has a few artsy ones mostly on his back and ribs where his parents can’t see them but i'm too lazy to list them rn, i’ll get to it eventually jfkjsbjk] height: 5′7″

languages: english, korean

+ traits: energetic, light-hearted - traits:  restless, emotional

--------

bio.

↳ isaac hae was born and raised in new york ctiy as the only child to two real estate developers turned luxury hotel owners in december 1996.

↳ his parents weren’t around much when he was growing up so he was raised mostly by the families butler Simon; as a result, isaac isn’t really all that close to his parents. to this day, despite having lived on his own for the past 6 years he still makes it a point to go to the family estate to see Simon when he can.

↳ isaac was around five when his parents began enrolling him in various afterschool activities; soccer, piano, tennis, archery, but he knew he had no interest in doing any of those things. he wanted to dance. after a few months of begging his mother gave in and enrolled him in a contemporary dance school. while his father was never silent about his dislike for his only son being interested in dance isaac never really cared, he barely saw his dad anyways.

↳ it didn’t take long after he started dancing for his teacher to notice his natural talent and isaac quickly became the most skilled dancer in his year, the competition trophies and metals quickly filling up the bookshelf in his bedroom.

↳ when isaac was around twelve his mom was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer almost out of the blue. this dropped a bomb on his relatively normal life up until that point. the next nine months were spent in and out of hospitals as his mom got treatment from the best doctors in the world. despite the fact that he was never all that close to her the fact that she was sick and not getting better made him rethink their relationship, she was his mom after all. 

↳ after his mom passed isaac spent the next few years throwing himself into dance more than usual while the relationship with his father quickly deteriorated. the only time his father made it a point to talk to his son was to ask about school and how the college search was going, only interested in the future reputation of the company his son would take over. 

↳ isaac eventually graduated high school and ran off to college, wanting to escape being under his father's thumb as quickly as possible. this was where he met liam. the older boy had wandered into the dance studio one day while isaac practiced for an upcoming showcase asking if he could watch and while he was confused at first he eventually agreed. 

↳ the first few times all liam did was sit in the corner and watch isaac while he practiced, only asking a few questions but not really speaking much beyond a greeting and saying goodbye. by the third or fourth time liam showed up at the studio he didn’t come empty-handed like normal, instead he had a sketchbook which he had immediately opened once isaac started dancing.

↳ it wasn’t until a few weeks had passed that isaac learned what liam had been doing, why he had continued coming to the studio even after that first time and was now sketching him. he had been painting isaac... and not just once either. after some coaxing liam eventually showed isaac the paintings.

↳ it was from that point on that liam and isaac developed an interesting relationship, anytime the older boy was feeling particularly uninspired he would come watch the younger one dance. isaac wasn’t totally sure what it was about his dancing that inspired liam but he didn’t ask, genuinely enjoying the company as he was usually alone in the studio at night. eventually the two became actual friends, keeping in touch even after liam had graduated. 

↳ the next few years isaac spent dancing and working towards his business degree (to appease his father and the board of directors) before eventually graduating and moving into one of the penthouse apartments owned by his father's company in downtown new york city. 

↳ despite being in the same city as liam (most of the time), with their crazy schedules it was difficult to see each other as often as either one of them would have liked. but liam still made a point to come to the studio to watch him dance when he had time. 

↳ currently isaac works for his dad and dances at a nearby studio whenever he’s not at work. 

tldr; isaac is just a dancing cinnamon with some parental issues spurring from his moms death and father just not being around. 

------

personality.

isaac can be a sassy little shit when he wants to be, typically always joking around and always in a good mood. it’s very rare to see this boy have an off day. despite this isaac has the most insane worth ethic which is why he is either practicing at the studio or working, rarely letting himself have any sort of off time (he prefers it this way tbh). at the end of the day isaac is really just a giant ball of sunshine wrapped up in a cinnamon roll. all he wants is to be your friend and make sure you feel loved. (he doesn’t always save a lot of that love for himself though asfjhg)

-------

headcanons.

↳ third generation korean-american, his grandparents moved to the states in the early 1960′s.

↳ despite being comfortable with his sexuality he hasn’t totally come out of the closet to his family and doesn’t see that happening anytime soon. outside of his friends, he tries to keep his sexual preferences on the down-low, not wanting the media to get wind of it. 

↳ is NOT a morning person, never was and probably never will be. the only time isaac doesn’t have his sunshine personality on full display is in the first couple hours after he wakes up so he makes it a point to avoid everyone until he feels more like himself.

↳ isaac is absolutely terrible about his phone. it’s always dead or broken (despite being able to buy a brand new one) and he almost prefers it that way. this boy always has at least 17 unread texts and 9 missed calls at all times. if you are trying to get in contact with him it’s best to just give up.

↳ while in college he did his best to keep his family's wealth a secret, not wanting people to look at him differently just because he had a large trust fund waiting for him. 

↳ it wasn’t until a couple years ago that isaac realized he had a crush on liam and it scared the crap out of him. almost immediately after he came to the realization he knew liam could never find out and shoved the feelings deep down. isaac valued their friendship too much to ruin it but now kind of regrets not saying anything now.

↳ the duality this boy possesses is almost comical. day to day he is just isaac, the ball of sunshine and happiness most people know him to be but the moment he steps into that dance studio he turns into a different person. he becomes the type of person you probably wouldn’t want to bring home to your parents. isaac can turn this side of him on and off like a switch though most of the time he doesn’t realize that he is even doing it in the first place.

[maerchenbound]

@caimkairos asked:

!! (from the little mermaid bc mermaid muse be strong rn)

       Under the cut bc it got longer than expected!

(It’s the first warm day of the year and the two of you are fooling about as boys in good weather do, chasing and horsing about.  There’s holes in the bottom of your shoes but your steps are still light and the air is filled with vibrant laughter.  When his hand brushes against your’s, your eyes can’t help but linger, even though you’ll soon be a man, and already you’re getting too old for this.  You’ve thrown away four or five letters because they couldn’t possibly contain all the feelings you want to give to him.)

She’s a slight little thing.  Slender wrists, her mouth silently tracing the shape of words long lost to the ocean waves.  Her form is a thing of literary beauty, the same sort as the slow fall of leaves in the beginning of autumn.  To you, every word that leaves her mouth is an old song.

...Who was it?  An American, about the same age as you, more or less.  Died drunk and alone on the street one year.  Oh— right, that’s it.  Edgar Allen Poe.

The Tell-Tale Heart.

How funny, because Poe never said that such a guilty heart could become a person.  Your own little slice of hell.  When you look at her, you see all the things that made her, the kinds of things even she doesn’t know about herself.  Her face is a thousand different memories of ‘What’s wrong with you?’— ‘Can’t you get him to go away?’— ‘It makes me sick to see your face,’.

Love is something beyond a pipe dream at this point; a pipe dream is something that is still desired.  You’d rather die than spend another second trying on different parts and shaving yourself down in search of such a paltry, twisted thing.  That’s the truth, it’s not something you need pity about.  That’s not the problem.  The problem is that that girl is, well-

Embarrassing!  Horribly embarrassing!  She’s borne of a calcified old lump of muscle that’s been torn out of your chest; all those horrible failures and insecurities left out on the table for everyone to poke and prod at like this is a circus side-act.  Nothing good ever came of those experiences, there’s no moral to learn in letting strangers gawk at them.

...There’s something uncomfortably intimate about anyone finding out who you used to be.  If nobody ever finds out where you came from or what you used to feel, then good.  Ideal.  It’s best to lock all that in the past, before you became a Servant and were able to finally get some perspective.  After all, you’d rather be hated on your own merits than invite pity for a childish, dreaming fool.

You feel the edges of a memory that’s not quite there anymore, something that ebbs the more you grab for it.  It’s so irritating, yet you can’t help but picture what must be a beach, because you’re standing in water.  Somewhere far away from here, certainly.  The words bubble down onto the page (long surrendered to become scratch paper), “love or romance?”.

[milfgritty]

i’ll be good pt. nine | j. hughes & t. zegras

❀ ⇢ requested: yes | no ❀ ⇢ word count: 2.6K ❀ ⇢ a/n: i can’t believe the end of this series is finally here. this has been my longest series to date and to actually finish it is just insane. i might end up posting a bonus part/epilogue but idk yet. anyway, i just want to say thank you to everyone who has followed i’ll be good and i couldn’t be more amazed by the positive feedback it’s gotten. i hope this ending doesn’t disappoint!

having a crush on one person was confusing enough. now throw in one of their teammates and you weren’t sure where that left you anymore.

⇢ posted: 05.11.19 . | . masterlist prev. | next.

“We’re going out for a bit, want to come?”

Rolling over, you shifted the covers down far enough to look at your mom. You pondered the decision for a few seconds, staring at her head peeking in through the cracked door.

“I think I’m gonna stay here,” you told her, words muffled.

She hesitated in the doorway before sighing. “We’ll bring back food,” she smiled sadly, retreating and closing the door behind her.

Letting out a sigh, you burrowed back into the blankets. You were grateful that she was being so understanding, but that didn’t stop you from wishing it wasn’t necessary in the first place.

Closing your eyes, you fought back a fresh wave of tears at the thought. How long was it going to hurt like this? Why weren’t you enough for him?

You groaned loudly, cutting off your train of thought. Distantly, you registered the sound of the front door being closed signaling that you were alone. Shifting again, you stared up at your ceiling blankly. You could probably go back to sleep for another few hours—it was the weekend so you didn’t have to worry—

Your phone buzzed on your nightstand. Head falling to the side to stare at it, you debated if you even wanted to see who texted you. Why bother, you know? Like, did you really want to talk to anyone right now?

Not particularly, but curiosity won out as you stretched your arm to grab the offending object. Settling onto your side, you winced at who it was that sent it. It wasn’t that you were embarrassed that he was the one you called and cried on the phone to—

Wait­—no. That’s exactly what it was.

Yea, he comforted you and said that it was fine but what else was he supposed to say? Blowing out a harsh breath, you decided to get it over with.

‘where are you? we need to talk’

Heart seizing up at the phrasing, you slowly typed out a reply.

‘at home in bed. family’s out rn. why do we have to talk??’

God, you hope this wasn’t him telling you that you couldn’t be friends anymore or some shit like that. One guy dumping you was enough heartbreak; you didn’t need another one adding to it.

‘nothing bad dw is it cool if i come over?’

You tried to ignore the way your heart sped up. Sending back a reply telling him that it was okay, you found the energy to get out of bed for the first time all day. Managing the bare minimum of your usual morning routine was nothing short of an accomplishment, no matter how sad the fact was.

It was only the thought of not wanting Jack to see you as a complete mess that got you going, but still. Progress.

After unlocking the door and sending Jack a text letting him know to just walk in—because what can go wrong there, right?—you made your way back upstairs.

Flopping down onto your bed, you sullenly scrolled through a few different apps to calm your nerves. Seriously, who tells a girl who literally just got broken up with that they need to talk? What do they need to talk about? In person?

The entire thing wasn’t giving you the best of feelings, but whatever. Might as well get some more bad news when you’re already down.

Right as you were finally calming down, Jack sent you a text saying that he was only a few minutes away.

Great, this was going to go great. Totally fine.

Oh god, was he gonna make a move? It hadn’t occurred to you but if he did—

No. No, he wouldn’t. That would be a whole new level of shitty. And even if he did, you weren’t going to just jump into things with him. That’d be so bad. No, new rule. Teammates are off limits.

Actually, hockey players in general. Who needs them? And dating? Not you, that’s for sure.

So lost in your thoughts, you nearly had a heart attack when the door downstairs opened.

“Y/N?” Jack’s voice yelled.

Cursing under your breath, you forced to calm down. “Bedroom,” you called back, pulling your legs up to sit cross-legged.

Fingers fidgeting, your breathing sped up before you worked on calming down again. You listened as Jack made his way upstairs—why did it sound like two pairs of—?

“Hey,” Jack appeared in your doorway, offering you a nervous smile.

You returned the greeting, tilting your head. “So what exactly did we need to talk about in person?”

“Uh, yea. You see, it isn’t just us that need to talk,” he trailed off, watching you with wide apologetic eyes.

Not understanding, you were about to ask when he stepped into the room. The words died in your throat when another figure stepped into sight.

“What the hell,” you sputtered, a whirlwind of emotions exploding inside of you at the sight of your bo—ex-boyfriend.

At least they both had the decency to look shamefaced, you mused to yourself as you sprung up off your bed.

“What the hell,” you repeated, unsure on who to round on.

“I told you this was a bad idea.”

You spun toward Trevor at the sound of his voice, ignoring how despondent it was and how your heart felt like it was breaking all over again. But then his words registered and you were marching at Jack.

“Wha—you brought him here?” you demanded, betrayal clear as day in your voice.

He backed away, hands in the air until he hit your dresser. “We need to talk about everything,” he tried, eyes wide in fear.

Pushing down the hurt, you shook your head bitterly.

“What’s there to talk about? He–“ you gestured at Trevor who had taken an awkward stance “–broke up with me. There’s nothing to talk about. And since there’s nothing to talk about, I want both of you out.”

“Y/N, stop,” Jack pleaded, grabbing ahold of your hands. “You and I both know there’s a lot we need to talk about—shit we should’ve just talked about a while ago.”

“We all fucked up,” Trevor cut in before you could respond. Going quiet, you refused to look at him and swallowed roughly. “And everything got out hand. I found out about you and Jack almost kissing and instead of just talking to you, I thought it would be better for all of us if I broke up with you—don’t look at me like that, I know it wasn’t the best idea now.”

A snort left you against your will, a small smile gracing your features before you caught yourself. “Yea, it was a pretty shit idea, man. You should’ve seen that,” Jack interjected quickly, shrugging innocently at Trevor’s glare but flashing you a smile when he heard your quiet laugh.

“I never claimed I had good ideas, okay?” Trevor attempted—maybe?—to defend himself.

“Can say that again,” you muttered under your breath, sniggering with Jack who heard your comment.

“Rude.” Trevor pointed at you in offense. Brought back to reality, you plopped yourself down on your bed.

“We really do need to talk about everything, don’t we?” you sighed, looking up at them. They nodded in agreement, turning to find chairs to sit down in.

Jack managed to lay claim to your desk chair. Trevor, given the option of the other side of your bed and your sad old beanbag, found himself practically on the floor.

“Be serious, man,” Jack mock scolded Trevor as the latter squirmed in the near flat beanbag. A laugh left you as Trevor flipped him off, and then yet another when you had to look all the way down to see him.

“Dicks,” Trevor mumbled, ignoring both of you as he finished settling into his bag.

“Now that that’s out of the way, where do we even start?” you voiced the unsaid question.

The boys exchanged glances and hesitated. “I don’t know,” Jack said quietly, slumping down.

“Great,” you nodded sarcastically, earning yourself a glare and laugh. The three of you sobered quickly after, realizing that none of you actually knew where to begin.

“I’m just gonna start by saying that before I even asked Y/N out, I seriously had no idea you liked her,” Trevor spoke to Jack before turning to face you. “I did know, though, that you liked him. Which—admittedly—wasn’t great, but still.”

Shaking your head, you tried to wrap your head around that. “That makes no sense. Why ask someone out if you know they like someone else? That’s like setting yourself up for failure.”

Trevor shrugged in response, reasoning, “Spencer is a good hype man.”

Closing your mouth, you nodded. He had a point.

“My thing is,” Jack leaned forward, peering up at you, “why did you agree to go out with Trevor if you liked me?”

Clearing your throat, you resisted the urge to blush. “Right before that, I heard you and the guys talking about some hot girl that gave you her number. After so long of you not making a move, that was just the last straw I guess. I was leaving, thinking about how it was time to move on and then Trevor asked me out and—well.” Ending your words with a shrug, you winced at how bad it sounded when put like that.

“You only went out from me to move on from Jack?” Trevor asked, hurt creeping into his voice. Jack leaned back into his chair, falling silent.

Meeting Trevor’s eyes, you shook your head rapidly. “No! It played a part, yea, but I wouldn’t have said yes if I didn’t think I could actually like you. You looked all cute and flustered when you asked me and I just—it dawned on me that if I wasn’t hung up on Jack, I probably would’ve liked you for a while at that point.”

Talking about it like this was more than a little embarrassing, especially since you could feel Jack’s gaze on the side of your face.

“And if you’ve liked me for so long, why were you talking about how you were going to call that ‘hot chick’?” you turned it back on Jack, the question having bugged you since you found out Jack liked you.

Eyes going wide, Jack sputtered. “I said I was kidding! That she wasn’t my type, because you’re my type—not the you’re my type part obviously but—didn’t I say that right after the guys calmed down?” He directed the last question at Trevor, putting him on the spot this time.

Trevor went quiet for a second before answering. “I think? I can’t remember, right around then Spencer came in to tell me Y/N was leaving.”

“Spencer was the one who told you I was leaving—?”

“Wait, how did you know I’ve liked you for ‘so long’? I never told you that I actually liked you,” Jack questioned, talking over you.

“I think almost kissing someone is a pretty clear sign you like them, Jack,” Trevor told him condescendingly. Jack rolled his eyes at him, kicking him lightly, before looking back at you.

Avoiding his gaze, you found a sudden interest in your shirt. “I might have overheard the two of you fighting that night you spilled your drink on me,” you mumbled, pursing your lips.

“You did?”

“Oh god,” Jack groaned, covering his face with his hands as Trevor choked.

“Yea.” You drug the word out, grimacing. “Not your best moment, either of you.”

“Is that why you avoided us the first time?” Trevor asked, his head angled to the side. You nodded, confirming his suspicion.

Jack’s sudden laughter startled you. “This is why we communicate, kids,” he said between gasps for air. A snort left you and soon enough you were all laughing at how bad the three of you really are at handling shit.

After your amusement died down, Trevor brought up a valid point.

“What are we doing now?” he asked, glancing up between the two of you. “I mean, we know where we went wrong and all of that, but where does that leave us?”

The question everything came back to, it seemed.

“I still don’t know,” you admitted, darting your tongue out to wet your lips.

Quiet dawned over you again, contemplative and unsure. All of you lost in thought about what happens next.

“You know what? I don’t care what happens as long as I get to be around you,” Jack shrugged. At your curious gaze, he elaborated.

“It’s been too long of constant drama. I just miss being able to talk to you and be your friend.”

“Lame,” Trevor didn’t even bother to hide his whisper. Jack rolled his eyes, flipping him off. You rolled your eyes at the both of them. You missed their antics and agreed with him, saying as much.

“I think we should start over,” you told them, bouncing your leg.

Their heads snapped toward you, forgetting about their bickering. “What do you mean?” Trevor asked, furrowing his eyebrows. Jack mirrored his expression, staring intently at you.

You sucked in a deep breath, trying to figure out how to word it. After a second, you started, “Obviously, even from the beginning, this wasn’t the healthiest relationship if that’s what you want to call it. There was always something holding someone back or coming in the way of things. I think we should just forget everything. Let everything be in the past and start anew. As friends or some sort of weird in between—I don’t care. I’ve just missed both of you a lot and don’t want to lose either of you over something so stupid.”

You couldn’t get through it while looking at them. Your gaze had shifted down to your fidgeting hands at some point. After you finished, they stayed quiet taking in your words.

“I’m okay with that,” Jack said finally, causing your head to snap up. He met your eyes with a soft grin, reassuring your nerves. Your gaze slipped down to a still silent Trevor, anxiously awaiting his response.

He looked up after a few seconds to see the two of you staring at him. “Oh! Yea, I’m cool with that. As long as we’re good and not ignoring each other anymore, I’m fine.”

Letting out a laugh, you shook your head. Relief washed over you, resulting in a goofy smile taking residence on your face. “Great,” you told them.

“See, this all worked out because I cornered you in your bedroom,” Jack told Trevor, standing up and making his way to your bed.

“Wait—you what?” you asked, vaguely noticing Trevor having difficulty getting up and out of the beanbag. He kicked at Jack, waving his hands in the air.

“Yea well this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t kissed my girlfriend,” Trevor shot back at him as he pulled him up.

You stared up at them, trying to get an answer from one of them. Jack pushed you over, sliding down on your left while Trevor took a spot on your right.

“You cornered him—?”

“Get over it already, that was so last week,” Jack ignored you, tugging you down beside him. Trevor snagged one of your hands, lacing your fingers together. Your heart soared at the familiar gesture and you let yourself be maneuvered.

The bed barely big enough for all three of you, you tried again.

“What’s up with you and cornering people in their rooms?”

The boys bursting into laughter at your genuine confusion on each side of you, you found yourself smiling widely.

This is good, you thought to yourself.

Everything is good.

[orphans-of-coldfront]

(for the 'My muse is standing at your doorstep, beaten and bloodied meme') "Who... did this... to you..." Charlotte stood in her doorway, seeing Lucas standing just merely a few feet away and looking completely torn up. She felt her cold blood boiling within her body, feeling a true sense of anger that she never felt. (hi hello im down for some really tasty angst rn)

It was a gamble to come beg her for help. Lucas knew that and yet his hands were currently tied. She was the closest person in his vicinity and, more importantly, the only person person that the lone wolf had ties to. So there he was, standing on her porch while blood was dripping along his swollen and bruised skin. The cool air of the outdoors was scorching his lungs, reminding him that he had to live with his own shortcomings. Indeed, for although his body was covered in cuts and bruises, failure was knife that had cut the deepest. The tears that streamed down his cheeks reflected the loss of his unflinching composure. 

If you were going to fight for so long just to fail, maybe you would have been better off letting yourself die a long time ago.

No. Those thoughts were counterproductive. Lucas knew they came from his inner hound, who was just as devastated as he was. After all, t’was his faithful guardian that always stepped forth and clawed his way through the hardships when he was overwhelmed. He surmounted a fair amount of hardships to give them the opportunity that they had today… The opportunity that slipped through their fingers. For him, death was preferable to failure. 

We yet live to fight another day.

We found him and his dogs got us. Everything we’ve done… Two decades of searching… All of that so we could get out ass whooped by his goons. I’m sick of fighting. I’ve got no fight left in me.

Then, silence. His scars burned intensely and shivers began to ripple along his spine. He felt like an empty husk. There was a strange, ominous feeling within him. The feeling of truly being alone with himself. Of having to stand alone against the darkness that threatened to engulf him. Although he stood there for the better part of five minutes contemplating the thought of leaving and patching himself up, Lucas now needed something more than just a health pack. He needed her. Her calm, soothing presence. He knew that only one of two things could bring him peace, one blissful yet fleeting. The other bittersweet and eternal. The former was Charlotte. The latter was the warm, everlasting embrace of death. And although he was alone, he didn’t want to leave his business unfinished before being welcomed in the reaper’s humble abode. 

Lucas stretched his hand out slowly. The sharp pain he felt made him wince. He felt so sluggish. His arm felt so heavy, he could barely lift it. It trembled, both under the weight and the thought of Charlotte turning a blind eye to his plea. He didn’t place any faith in others, but… Just this time… He had faith in her. He tickled the doorbell with his finger and finally pressed it. The dim light of the moon brushed against his dark, fluttering figure. When she finally opened the door, his swollen eye calculated her reaction. He saw shock, at first, which he had expected from the start, yet what would come next was too spontaneous to guess. 

It was anger that flickered within those rich golden and emerald eyes, slightly covered by a few stray strands of her soft, raven hair. He couldn’t yet tell who it was directed towards, so her reaction made him feel a little on edge.

“Who did this to you?”

Her reaction made more sense. Her rage wasn’t aimed at him. Rather, it was aimed at those who hurt him. More specifically at the man who ordered his henchmen to make him disappear. Lucas knew that she wanted answers, but just thinking about his name, carved into the tip of his tongue, left a bitter sting in his mouth. A sensation that he felt burning his lower eyelids while the tears threatened to erupt like a volcano. He closed his eyes and looked at the ground. He took long, deep breaths. His scattered breath betrayed his inability to speak of what happened. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. No, there was one failure he refused to admit, even to himself: being completely dependant of someone else. As it stood, he relied on her to the point that his life was in her hands. This was the first time he had been this vulnerable since Jonathan Keaton took him in, when he had been orphaned, at the age of eight years old. He hated every second of it, and silently begged her not to take advantage of him like the latter had.

[quiviktories]

               ( demigirl ) haven’t seen QUINN-VIKTORIA “QUIVI” NIKOLAYEVNA around in a while. the ADELINE RUDOLPH lookalike has been known to be (+) DILIGENT & (+) GENTLE, but SHE can also be (-) INTIMIDATING & (-) STONE-FACED. The 23 year old is a JUNIOR majoring in AMERICAN SIGN LANGUAGE. I believe they’re living in FIDELIS but I popped by earlier and no one answered the door. 

                         okie dokes y’all I’m rly sad my muse for Link n Eden just lightning mcdied but as an apology ( to myself ) I’m bringing perhaps my OLDEST OC to Lockwood !! ( I’ve had Cyrus for three years , Quivi’s existed for five. ) But she’s actually a more fantasy-oriented OC so it was fun modernizing her up for Lockwood !! So more abt my battle princess under the cut. // like to plot after reading the intro

              TWs: Violence, death, emotional abuse, mentions of mental illness ( ocd ), ptsd

BASICS / HISTORY

Most important facts abt Quivi are she’s 6′3, has a six-pack, and can drive. Also bi bc I can’t write straight OCs with my bisexual ass.

OKAY OKAY ALSO RLY IMPORTANT FACT : She’s selectively mute , so Quivi will either be communicating through written words or sign 90% of the time. There’s two reasons for this :

Quivi’s first language is not English ; if you can’t tell already , she’s Russian , and she’s still learning English. She’s more of a visual than auditory person so writing English is easier for her than speaking , and she’s honestly very insecure about it , so she chooses not to speak partially because of that. She learned sign very easily and is more comfortable with it than speaking.

The other reason . . . is bc of her past but I’ll b getting to that. 

So she was adopted. Quivi doesn’t know where her biological parents are from , but as a baby , she was taken in by a Russian businessman named Nikolay Andreyevich and . . . she had the same birthday as his biological child , Lukas. Exactly. Birthday was April 8th 1996 ( tech as of rn Quivi’s 22 but I just put 23 bc it’s easy ) , so even though Quivi and her brother weren’t blood , they were always referred to as twins.

Now their father was a bit of an asshole , to say the least. You know how sometimes parents often pit children against each other ?? Well , you might expect me to say he did that to the kids to try and see who could run the company.

He didn’t !!

No instead he decided which one was going to lead ahead of time and treated the other one like dirt 

So yeah Quivi was the one who was treated like dirt

This was because Lukas was going to be the heir, and Quivi was going to be his bodyguard. So Lukas was spoiled rotten and Quivi was trained extensively and given brutal criticism so she’d come out tough as nails and only focus on being the perfect soldier / bodyguard.

She was taught to keep her emotions inside , never to express herself , and to always be silent. And she’d be verbally berated and chastised if she failed to comply with either - she had to be a stealthy , emotionless machine. And . . . yeah. That’s the second reason for her selective mutism. 

So yeah , that was her life up until she turned eighteen. Because at that age, their father died, and now it was just her and Lukas.

And he treated her exactly like their father did. He was a spoiled brat and believed Quivi was there to simply act as his bodyguard. And yeah , she obeyed him. But Lukas didn’t have his heart set on being a businessman , no - he wanted to be famous. And he ended up climbing his way to become an Instagram influencer and even bought his way into getting a record deal so he could put out bad Youtuber music.

...Quivi hates his stuff. To this day

Quivi was eventually cast to the side to the point where her brother wouldn’t even acknowledge her as his bodyguard. He acted like she wasn’t even there. And Quivi hated the way he treated other people - when they turned twenty , he got a woman pregnant and never bothered to see her again. And Quivi ended up finding her and helping her take care of the child when she was born.

And that was around the point Quivi decided her brother was a fucking dickhead and stood up to him , cutting him out of her life. And she focused on making a life for herself , and used what she got of their father’s inheritance ( because their mother insisted both twins get something ) and paid to go to Lockwood. 

PERSONALITY / CHARACTER

Quivi is the epitome of someone who looks rly scary and intimidating but oh my god is she not. She’s very gentle , very polite - always uses formalities and puts others before herself. Holds the door for twelve people before going inside herself.

But also , she can fucking fight like there’s no tomorrow. She was trained for years , and she probably knows a few ways to kill a man. Was trained with a few weapons just in case , and definitely is a master of self-defense.

She has OCD and as well PTSD from her childhood. I will very rarely mention this in threads , but it’s important to note. ( I have both , as well. )

She never really had nice / fun things as a kid , so she has a lot of catching up to do. The little things make her so happy , like McFlurries , bad pop music , the cliche Shakespeare stories everyone reads , etc. 

But , again - she was never encouraged to show emotion. So she comes off as very neutral because of this reason - but trust me she feels a whole lot and when she does smile it’s a sight from Heaven.

She’s a sporty person !! She’s into fencing , but that sport’s not offered at Lockwood , so she’s also on the gymastics team. Even has a varsity jacket for it.

Also in Theatre ( the club ) !! Not as an actress , however. She’s on the set crew. But she wants to be an actress in it someday , or even do some sign translations for the audience.

Tatiana was a stranger to her. But the stranger you know everything and nothing about , because you hear about her all the time from everyone else. So yes , in a curious manner did Quivi pick her name - but you know that feeling you get when you wonder if you were the deciding vote in that shit ?? Quivi wonders that ( obviously , she wasn’t , but she gets that feeling every time someone brings up Tatiana and the Watershed )

God I love her she’s my gentle giant bby and again I’ve had her for . . . five years n tbh like Cyrus a good portion of her character was originally made to Vent my own stuff out so. She means a lot 2 me.

Hope y’all love her.

WANTED PLOTS / CONNECTIONS

sb in Theatre who wants to get Quivi onto the stage tbh that was the First thing I thought of 

sb who Quivi can teach Russian or ASL !! Also others who know ASL would b great bc that’s Quivi’s preferred method of communication

Someone who Quivi can trust with actually talking to ?? They’d have to be really close , though , because Quivi only speaks to the people that she trusts

A nerd who Quivi befriends and just. Listens to them talk about the stuff they’re interested in. Bc honestly learning and listening is what she likes to do - not like Ami who fuckin CAN’T STOP WON’T STOP with the studying but. Quivi’s literally been deprived of so much. She likes to learn what she doesn’t know.

Sb who sorta thinks Quivi is all SUPER FUCKIN SCARY AND PROBABLY A BITCH bc of the RBF but when they actually meet her,,, they think she’s so sweet

Lowkey a fuckboi or sb who could flirt w/ her n she just. Turns em down. Stone-faced. Might kick them and make ‘em fall or smth idk Quivi’s that person who tells u to go chop a guy’s dick off when he says one rude thing 2 u

Literally okay in my personal headworld / lores it’s a part of Quivi’s culture to settle things like minor disagreements with a duel to the death and it was a running gag on earth that Quivi would see ppl get in2 like. Twitter fights. N comment “challenge them to a duel to the death” n everyone else was like QUIVI NO

she’s... kinda like Diana. like, Wonder Woman Diana.

I call her Wonder Woman a lot

Bt this is Watershed so it’s very different from that!! Lowkey tho I’m proud of the world I created for her like I literally made a whole language + alphabet for her world 

[ratretro]

Title: Obstacles

Pairing: NaLu

Prompt: NaLu Angst Week 2018 - Obstacles

Rating: M; Ages 18+!

None of these characters are owned by me, they are all owned by the wonderful Hiro Mashima!

A/N:

I hope this came out well because I wanted to make it kind of fun and kind of awful

But the good kind of awful

Idk my angst game is weak rn im sorry tbh

Of course it happens right as angst week writing begins lmao heres an arranged marriage au for you all

also I won’t be doing tomorrows prompt unless i have time to complete it ive got some stuff to work out

FF.net

           The male beside her had eyes the shade of the night sky on the new moon; cold and empty. His hand was resting comfortably on her hip, but she’d felt his fingers twitch each time she walked by. The she Lucy was referring to was not herself, but a smaller girl on the other side of the room. The girl with the flowing, soft blonde hair that fell in waves with ribbons adorning both sides of her head in perfect symmetry. Her gown was a shade of pink that reminded Lucy distinctly of cherry blossoms, and though it was elegant she could tell the fabric was lightweight and the design specifically made to appear as though it matched the overall feel of the party. This made sense considering Mavis was cunning, and tactful. She needed to be quick on the floor, but she also needed to blend in. She was her father’s advisor, and an outstanding one if this party wasn’t a testament to her hard work.

             The manor they lived in was all shimmering gold, and sparkling wine. The chandeliers were perfectly lit, and every bulb had been replaced in light of tonight’s event. Once again, her husband’s hand twitched as the sprite of a girl passed. Lucy didn’t much care on the transgressions of her husband. They’d made an agreement after all. That didn’t stop her from glowering at him. He was an idiot, and it was like he wanted to get caught. In truth, he probably did. Then he could stop the charade and be with the woman he actually loved. However, that wouldn’t do well for Lucy. Her father would just find another man to marry her to and she couldn’t have that. She may have wished it in the beginning, but too much was at stake now. Her father wouldn’t care if the male beside her was having an affair, but to bring public shame to the family would be a disgrace.

             “Careful, darling.” She placed emphasis on the pet name, and once more her smile full of lies graced her face. “You’ll get us caught.” She mumbled below her breath to keep their conversation from being overheard.

             “The only reason I agreed to your deal is my brother. Otherwise, I would have left with her long ago.” He muttered back to her. His tone having shifted from ‘overly excitable husband’ to ‘don’t get cocky’ in a matter of seconds. Two could play at this game.

             “I know that. I don’t care. Don’t. Get. Caught.” Each word was said through gritted teeth.

             “Oh my! Look at the happy couple!” it was her aunt Supetto for the third time that evening. “You look marvelous, my dear!”

             Her cheeks turned a shade of rosy pink as she knelt to her aunt’s height, and gently gripped her hands. “As do you, auntie.” The two separated, and she watched her aunt wander back out to the floor. She’d certainly be back.

             “You say I’ll get us caught. His face has been the epitome of ‘don’t touch her’ all night.” Shots fired. He was right though, Natsu had been throwing a silent tantrum since they’d descended the stairs arm in arm, with smiles of a happy couple. She didn’t want this anymore than he did. Zeref’s hand returned to her hip and pulled her just an inch closer. They’d come up with a system in their closeness. This marriage was one of necessity and convenience. Neither wanted this, but still. Zeref couldn’t shame the Dragneel name, and neither could she to the Heartfilia Konzern. Both would be inevitable as the affairs they both engaged in continued. And yet the pair of them felt addicted to their other half.

             “Surely, we could separate for a moment.” It was a suggestion that Zeref posed nearly every political event. He couldn’t stand to be there like some exhibit for very long, and truth be told Lucy couldn’t stand to have someone other than him touching her.

             “Surely, we could.” She echoed, and the pair separated. Both gave each other their signature smiles, and that lingering glance that they’d practiced and become sufficient at. It was like when she had played pretend as a child. Her performances could give a professional entertainer a run for their money. She crept down a small hallway that normally led towards the restroom, but instead of entering the ladies’ room she ventured to the left. The door shut softly behind her, and there she waited.

             It wouldn’t be long now, she hoped. And she was right. She heard his stomping before he even entered the room, but once he did she felt like her skin was on fire. Her father was insistent on marrying into a family of dragons for the status, and the fame but she’d always wondered what his thought process was on that. Did he think they’d be controlled? Impossible.

             “Natsu, could you please turn down the furnace. It’s rather hot.” She teased. Though, from the look on his face it was clear he was past the ‘joking to ease tension’ phase. Dragons were peculiar that way. They got insanely territorial over what they felt was theirs. It was how she’d first noticed Zeref’s feelings for Mavis, and it was how she’d discovered Natsu’s for her. She had been drawn to the mysterious air of the elder Dragneel, but immediately felt he was too tense, and stuffy. Natsu had been like a breath of fresh air in the spring. Zeref felt like a cloudy day with a one hundred percent chance of rain and high humidity. Yet, Mavis loved him with everything she had. To each their own, she supposed. Her own was right in front of her.

             Natsu wasn’t about to just let Lucy slide with a joke like he normally did. He’d watched them practice flirting, and getting the timing of their own lies together the entire night. That hadn’t bothered him, much, but the one thing he’d forgotten in his entire time with Lucy was that their parents had expectations. His father expected Lucy to bear the next heir of the Dragneel name, and of course Lucy’s father expected the same. He’d heard them practice what to say to their respective father’s, but both had become silent. Every single one of them knew that the argument wouldn’t hold out.

             Zeref’s eyes had been the color of blood red, and Lucy couldn’t even bother to face him. She couldn’t bear to tell him the truth, and he knew that. He knew that one day she would have to bear the child of his brother. It was either that, or she get sold to some other high ranking socialite. Zeref could easily sway their father to choose Mavis, but he hadn’t out of respect for Natsu. Natsu appreciated it in ways his brother would never truly understand, but Zeref was at his breaking point. It wouldn’t be long before he called it quits, and Lucy knew that too.

             They continued to refuse each other in this small room. Natsu never moving towards her, and Lucy staring into her hands like they were the most interesting thing in the world. He couldn’t stand it any longer. The tension was so thick it could be cut with a knife. He moved towards her, and the movement startled Lucy into looking up.

             She could barely see through blurred vision as the water pooled, threatening to spill over. His hand touched her cheek, and she could feel the weathered skin, and each scar across the tips of his fingers and his palm. A tear slid when her eyes closed and she relaxed into his touch. His thumb ran under her eye to brush the liquid from her cheek.

             Not even a single tear should stain her cheeks. He’d decided this when they first began their arrangement, but that was then, and this was now. He couldn’t make this better. The greed of her father far outdid that of a dragon. He wasn’t sure if that was a compliment, but he highly doubted he could ever think something nice of Lucy’s old man.

             “Stop cryin’, Luce. It’ll be alright.” She gripped his suit jacket tightly and nodded before tugging him against her. Her forehead nuzzled softly into his chest.

             “I know. I’ve been thinking lately… what if we all just ran away? Me, you, Zeref, and Mavis. Couldn’t we just leave?” if she cried anymore she’d ruin her makeup. Appearance was everything. She had to keep up appearance.

             “That wouldn’t solve a damn thing. My father would hunt us to the ends of the earth, and so would yours.” That didn’t mean he didn’t want to, because fuck did he want to. He could run to hell and back as long as it was her by his side. But they couldn’t. They couldn’t just leave.

             “What if—” she stopped herself. One ‘what if’ was all she could afford. Any more than that, and she’d have actual hope. His rough hand gently raised her chin up to look at him, and he pressed a lingering kiss to her forehead.

             “I love ya. And if that means I gotta fight an army to keep ya then I will.” She didn’t want him to. Anything that would hurt him, she could never forgive. Even if it was herself.

             “Please don’t. I don’t want you to get hurt, idiot.” She lifted to her tip toes, and pressed a kiss to his lips. It was soft like it always was, he mused. Her lips were sticky from the lip gloss she’d chosen. It tasted like watermelon. She had always liked those flavored ones, and he couldn’t help but agree. He licked her bottom lip, and she giggled – a real giggle – for the first time that night. The sound was like music to his ears. His own private symphony.

             He pressed his head into her neck, and his hands gripped her hips. She gave a small gasp that had him growling softly. Then, a scent rose to his nose. It was buried beneath her floral perfume. He was glad she chose the softest one she had in her array of scents. It hadn’t taken the heiress long to learn the sensitivity of a dragon’s nose, and since then had only worn soft scents that smelled of vanilla or a flower shop. Today was the flower shop. Still, that wasn’t the problem. No, his problem lay under that.

             Lucy noticed quickly the change from playful growl to territorial growl. She froze on the spot, and then she waited. Territorial Natsu could sometimes be a hassle, between sibling rivalry, and his disgust about their situation it often gave her trouble. Tonight, for example, he likely smelled Zeref on her skin. They’d had to do a ‘lover’s embrace’ in front of their fathers. Complete with longingly staring into each other’s eyes, and happy smiles. They joked about how disgusting it was later.

             In another life, she and Zeref would have been friends. She thought so anyway. Here they had a mutual partnership. One that likely wouldn’t make it much farther. It was just as she thought. They should all just run away.

             Natsu’s breath on the crook of her neck distracted her from her thoughts, and she tensed while a shiver ran down her spine.

             “Your father sucks.” He muttered, resting his forehead to her collarbone, and gently pushing her backward. It wasn’t long before she bumped into the desk at the far back of the office. This idiot was going to try that in a place like this.

             “He does. But you know what’s worse?” she was setting him up for a joke. Just like when she’d entered, but his brain didn’t want to hear it. Her dress had been distracting him all night, and with the scent of Zeref on it that was making it all the more irritating. It was tight, black and boy did it fit her like the perfect sized glove. He shivered the second his fingers caressed the fabric. His hands were gripping her hips again, which in turn made her nervous. She’d chosen the dress with slits on both sides with the purpose of riling him up, but she didn’t mean for right now, she’d meant for later. When they were alone in their chambers, and the party goers had gone.

             “Hmmm.” The sound vibrated against her neck as a tongue lashed out to lick her skin. A whimper slipped through her lips, and the grip on her hips tightened.

             “Happy’s going to destroy the furniture before we get back.” She deflected to the feline for aid in distracting Natsu from his current activities.

             “And when he does we’ll confiscate his prized fish as punishment.” A gasp of horror came from her body, but he was more than aware that she was joking. Soon, another giggle erupted through her ribcage.

             “And then we’ll have to buy a new couch. Again.” She mumbled.

             “What can I say. He really liked the old one.” Natsu wasn’t distracted one bit. In fact, his lips were kissing trails up her neck, and she was doing her best to hold it together.

             “For someone who owns a cat, you’re such a sly dog.” He bit into her neck softly, but she got the feeling that if he ever could, he’d leave nothing but marks on her pale skin to show everyone who she was with. She was his, and he was hers. This situation just complicated matters was all. Lucy rocked her hips into his, and he grunted.

             “Dragon. I. Am. A. Dragon. We are majestic!” he groaned loudly in annoyance with her terms, and she supposed he was right, but she wanted to make the joke, and so here they were.

             “Yes, a mighty dragon. He who lays claim to all treasure.” She had deepened her voice, and added a tone that sounded a lot like a story narrator.

             “If we lay claim to all treasure, then you’re mine. You’re my pile of golden coins.” He brought her hand to his lips, and pressed a kiss to her knuckles. She flared a vibrant red, and her face felt like it was on fire all the way up to the tips of her ears.

             Their lips met again, but this time more urgent. Her fingers dug into his hair, and his hands finally found their way to her thighs. He squeezed one as he slid his other hand up her inner thigh to reach the seething warmth. A shaky sigh left her lips, and with one touch to the clothed flesh she was throwing her head back, and biting her lip to keep from making a sound.

             His grin was devilish as the finger began to rub up, and then down. Up. Down. Up. Down. He continued the slow pace, and the deliberate stroking even as her grip on his hair tightened. She breathed, and his name flowed out. His finger stopped abruptly, and he pulled it back. Then, once more a searing kiss to her lips.

             A knock at the door startled her from her haze. She froze in fear until she saw the look of irritation on Natsu’s sharp features.

             “We’ve got to get back.” Zeref’s voice echoed from behind the door, and she nearly cursed before pushing past the pinkette. She straightened up her appearance before hanging her head and mumbling something. Natsu had heard her, and all be damned he was a dragon. And wasn’t it a dragon’s duty to kidnap the princess and hide her where she’d never be found again? Her hand pressed to his chest, and she left him with a soft, lingering kiss. It was so pure and tender. It was so full of love that it nearly ripped out his heart to watch her leave arm in arm with Zeref.

             With her lingering glance on him as she left he silently promised the world would fear the wrath of Natsu Dragneel if it meant he could live a full life with her.

[cfcenturions]

➰ ( NICO TORTORELLA, CISMALE, HE/HIM ) *✧.:°░｡ —- is that CHRISTOPHER ‘KIT’ WALLACE ?! you know them, right? they are the TWENTY NINE year old CENTURION SHADOWHUNTER !! they’re known for being COMPASSIONATE & BRAVE- but i’d be careful if i were you because they’re also BLUNT & BITTER.

kevin here again with his second muse!! this is my brand new twink kit, he’s part of the wallace fam so you know he’s bound to be a messy binch. i don’t make the rules ok, it’s just in their dna. they’re like the kardashian’s of idris. leo has definitely cried in lake lynn over losing a pair of earrings tbh, and noah was right there to remind him that shadowhunters were dying!!

INFORMATION

name: christopher wallace age: twenty nine gender: cismale sexual orientation: bisexual date of birth: place of birth: london, england

BIOGRAPHY

X kit was born and raised in london, england with his five other siblings until the death of his parents at the hand of his older brother, leo ( which he’s unaware of lmao ) which they then became wards of the clave and moved to los angeles, california. the wallace bloodline is one of the oldest, respected and wealthiest amongst the shadowhunters; something that holds a great importance to kit. not in the sense that he’s uptight, snobbish and egotistical ( unlike most of the wealthy shadowhunter families tbh ) but their family name and reputation is important to him, he’s always wanted to carry on his parents legacy. 

X before the death of his parents they had began training kit and quill to one day become centurions, pushing them further and harder than their other siblings to become stronger and fiercer fighters than most shadowhunters of their age. being an ordinary shadowhunter was never on the cards for kit, his parents always wanted him to strive for excellence and become extraordinary. something he has honoured growing up and always strives to do.

X which is how he found himself enrolling at the shadowhunter academy shortly after quill was sent back to london by his brother to complete his training. feeling isolated and alone without the company of his mischievous twin, kit requested to enroll at the shadowhunter academy where he himself could complete his own training, graduate with some of the highest honours in the academy’s history and go on to join the scholomance to complete his training in becoming a centurion.

X once he graduated from the scholomance and became a fully fledged centurion, he was on track to becoming one of their most elite warriors, with exceptional marksmanship skills and their was even whispers of him becoming the head of an institute in the future — until the news spread that his older brother was the shadowhunter behind the recent chaos and attacks in los angeles. the clave turned on kit in a heart beat, unwilling to hear his protests when they tried charging him with high treason against the clave. everybody knew the wallace’s were a tight knit family, who favoured family above all else ( even the clave ) even when the silent brothers or the mortal sword couldn’t draw answers they wanted to hear from him, the resorted to torture.

X he spent weeks in captivity, suffering at the hand of his former centurions until he was able to appeal to a centurions humanity and free him from his chains. he regretted what he did next, but he prayed to the angel raziel for forgiveness and explained to the centurion it was a necessary means to his escape; he ran the centurion through with his own seraph blade, though he missed any vital arteries and made sure he only inflicted enough damage and pain upon the other centurion so his escape would look real, not staged.

X after escaping the clutches of the clave, he’s been deemed a traitor and a defector and stripped of his rank as a centurion; he knows returning to los angeles is not only risky but reckless, but he demands answers from his brother and is desperate to reunite with his family.

PERSONALITY

X kit is one of the more compassionate shadowhunters, never really believing in the clave’s motto of feelings being their weakness; he believes in the opposite, emotions are what make you strong. fear doesn’t shut you down, it wakes you up. his emotions are what have kept him alive this far. he’s always willing to offer a shoulder to cry one, a pair of strong arms to find comfort in and an ear to listen to your problems — but don’t mistake his kindness and openness for weakness, he’s just as lethal in battle as the rest of his family.

X despite being compassionate and brave, always ready to jump into battle and take a demon bite for another shadowhunter, he can be blunt and direct; so much that some people find it a jarring mirror to the compassionate boy that grew up in england, but he doesn’t do it with any malicious intent behind his words, he’s just the type of guy that puts all of his cards on the table, and doesn’t keep anything close to his chest. whether that’s his feelings for somebody or an opinion that would be better left unsaid.

EXTRA

X kit is a highly skilled marksman, his weapon of choice is a crossbow and when on demon hunting missions, he can often be found perched on a rooftop, an arrow locked and loaded into his crossbow ready to bury it into the ichor filled heart of a demon he was hunting.

X kit loves heights, when ever he’s troubled or needs his own space he could be found sitting on the institute roof top, or reading ancient books on demonic languages perched on the wooden beams inside of the shadowhunter academy and sometimes even training on the mountain tops peak of the caves that the scholomance was carved into.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

X lets start with the basic friends, enemies and ex boyfriend/girlfriends from over the course of his life; these could be from the early years of his life spent in london, the short years he spent in los angeles as a teenager, the other students he met during his years studying at the scholomance or even other centurions he trained with at the scholomance. 

X i’ll add more connections here as i develop him, because honestly i’m too lazy to write them up rn and i’m toying with the idea of sending a few of them into the main but feel free to IM me for more information on these wanted connections or any you had yourself that you think kit could fill!!

[punkscowardschampions]

Edie & Diego

Edie: Aygo! I got a pitch, you buying? Diego: give me more to go on Edie: oh yea, you too young to know how it usually goes on casting couches, my bad lil homie Edie: you got any super 8 atm? Diego: Can get some Diego: a day or two? Edie: what u gotta clear ur schedule big man Edie: u on ur business boi respect Edie: well, i think we could do most of it in a day buuuuuuut i gotta secure a car to trash and i haven't convinced iggy he don't need that fuckin' hippie van so that'll be another day as and when, ye? Diego: I can give you that Diego: on your own with the car situ Edie: ye ye ye i won't get u in the shit Edie: what kinda big sister would i be?! Edie: but, similar vein, don't tell mum and dad where we shooting okay Edie: you'll be safe with me but they'd never sign off on it ya feel Diego: understood Diego: where we going? Edie: don't u like surprises? 😜 Diego: hard no Diego: get a car that goes so we can store the equipment before killing it I'd like that Edie: What about ones you can't hear, better or worse? cos I've got some fireworks that might be cool Edie: you don't like surprises but you wanna DIE Edie: boi i can't drive! Edie: I'll see if I can get someone to take us but if not, hitch ur wagon to my pushbike Edie: just like old times n'awwh Diego: I'll steer you do the pedals Diego: fireworks smell bad but I won't do fart jokes if you want the colours Edie: if we find a motor that runs Edie: know there's one that the O'Dwyer lads left under that dodgy underpass Edie: but I say we got only so long 'fore that's completely fucked/burned out Edie: time's a wasting boyo Diego: Can be ready day after tomorrow if you are Edie: not a cult classic but how you rate it? jake's usually a fittie but he's pretty dorky in that Diego: the special effects were bomb for the era Diego: I can give you the same commercial success with my skills Edie: dope 💎 Edie: i'll storyboard lowkey for u but i'm happy for it to be mostly in the moment real shit Edie: u can use editing magic after if ur so inclined lil dude Diego: send me the song Diego: I'll get a feel Edie: hoe u best hop on my soundcloud rn Edie: gimme them listens Edie: EDieM as you clearly forgot 😤 Edie: newest track on there Diego: I remembered how to sign it, giving you that promo to my friends, but yeah Diego: confusion Diego: you're you're name sign to me Edie: 🙌 ayo, jokes aside about being a musician with a load of deaf fans Edie: always amping that bass up so should be feeling it literal Diego: capitalise Diego: nobody else is Diego: take the silent disco concept and make it fresh Edie: 💸💸💸 Edie: i'm into it Edie: fuck the mainstream, making music for the kids at places like ur school n mine n all the other's who a lil fucked up Diego: Put that into your storyboard Edie: 😏 Edie: mightbebreakingintomyschool Edie: itseasyandriskfreedoneitbefore Edie: hey, d'ya reckon we could get our hands on some hearing aids and shit Edie: not about to suggest we break into your school, more to nick=not worth it Diego: Old people's home? Edie: yassss Edie: shame our grandparents are young as shit and we love 'em enough not to do it to 'em Edie: i'll give 'em a free performance, they'd LOVE that Diego: ma has my baby stuff kept cos she loves me real deeply Diego: won't be enough but its a start Edie: 🙄 lowkey a hoarder Edie: imma make billie n her go round all the antique shops, keep an eye out for those real old school ear trumpets Edie: that'd be sick Diego: my teacher has one of those! ill ask if we can borrow it Diego: he loves showing it around Edie: 👏 i've got a vision so hard now Edie: u can ask if any of ur friends wanna be in it but we'll have to do that 'round here Edie: look like pied piper paedo taking too many of yous away on a jolly Edie: esp. with a 🎥 in tow Edie: lord help me Diego: I'll do seamless cuts Diego: there's a girl that NEEDS to be in it Edie: I see how it is Edie: ur REAL muse Edie: better not be too cute, stealing my shine Edie: i'm the ⭐ remember Diego: Understood Diego: She's a good singer if you do need backup Diego: [Sends her soundcloud] Edie: oooooookuuurrr lil mama Edie: i see u Edie: if she's down then we can make it happen sure Edie: get you your boo thang 😍 Diego: I'll ask Diego: don't out me Edie: gon' get all shy? Edie: use your director swag Edie: just don't get #metoo wid it, Tarantino, alright? Diego: She's shy Diego: and with that voice Edie: or playing it Edie: best be chill then lil one Diego: You think she's faking coy? Edie: meh, might be too young to know how Edie: but that's what girls do Diego: do you? Edie: i'm not telling u all my signature moves! Edie: depends Edie: lots of lads don't like it if a girl is funnier, more mouthy and opinionated than they are, if that's what you're after, then sure Edie: some boys want that at the start, so they can 'tame' you and have that on their ego, so you end up pretending later Edie: but you'll get it as you grow Diego: Everyone's thinking too hard Diego: I just like her, she's nice and funny and talented Edie: you sweet sweet child Edie: don't ever grow up k Edie: once u hit 10, 11, you'll be a right dickhead Edie: always happens, the girls usually a bit before 'cos we're always ahead of yous Diego: Are not! Diego: and I'll be sick when I'm older you mean Edie: are so! Edie: we'll see Edie: not in my experience but prove me wrong Diego: I'll be the first Diego: Be ready Edie: 😂 believe it when i see it Edie: guess Junie isn't so bad but that's 'cos he's gay Edie: its different Diego: He's not? Edie: oh yeah shh Edie: keep that under your hat Edie: deal with that one later Diego: more importantly Diego: half the school want to be in this Diego: they're telling me Edie: ✋ hahaha yes brotha Edie: can do so much more with a full cast Edie: i'll make sure its fun, even if they can't come for the illegal bits Edie: love these kids, so hype 😂 Diego: im loving the song Diego: Feeling it Edie: forreal? Edie: u can be brutal, my ego can take it 😉 Diego: don't need Diego: it's bomb Edie: knew u was my fave Edie: feel free to rub it in w the others Diego: They'll state me a liar Diego: but you're on to something with these beats and you need to be told Edie: i got ya back Edie: i'll start bein a real cunt to 'em sharpish, like Edie: no room for doubt lmao Edie: gotta when u gassin' me up so hard Diego: ulterior motives Diego: can I use some of the footage for school Diego: If it turns out it's one less essay Edie: 'course you can Edie: its probably not all gon' be sfw, don't need the 'rents saying i got u in shit as prev. mentioned, but the salvageable shots, go for your life Diego: I'll do extra editing don't want you in the same trouble Diego: I'm trying to film what we do much as the whole fam'll stand it Diego: personal project Edie: Fair 'nuff, fill your boots Edie: I ain't camera shy Edie: And Rio and Gracie can't pretend they are either Edie: always pouting looking like braindead fish 😂 Diego: Got a mountain of footage of them already Diego: Only been doing a few days sly Diego: I want Billie's vibe but I can't catch her Diego: Iggy same Edie: Shoulda known 😂 Edie: yeah good luck with the rest, either too busy for the fam or moody lil fuckers Edie: take ya pick Edie: self included usually obvs but you know, wanna do this music thing proper so Edie: got 🍀 kid Diego: arrgh Diego: facts Diego: I'll keep at it Diego: maybe I'll strike it with them Edie: get gus to round 'em up Edie: hard to say no to Diego: Now that's an idea Diego: Bound to work Edie: i'd pay for that energy Edie: i do 😂 Diego: hahahah Diego: put a price on it Edie: if i could bottle what he has i'd be laughing Edie: don't give a shit what nobody thinks man, what a cool kid Diego: his piss bottles itself some of the time Diego: you're there Edie: ya nastys Edie: secured a ride Edie: ur equip is welcome Edie: but i gotta go now, favour fo' favour Diego: I'm in too then Diego: don't do anything I wouldn't Edie: 👌 Edie: like i said, don't grow up Edie: need that childlike wonder for my vision Edie: catch you on the flipside mofo Diego: not in my plans Diego: enjoy yours