#all those tabs... forever to be untouched

[lye-chii]

there's a different type of pain for losing all your tabs and being unable to restore it

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reacting to their s/o wrongly accusing them

Request: hiii could i request heavy angst where svt argue with their s/o over a misunderstanding but they find out that they were wrong and have to grovel? i love ur writing!!

A/N: Awh, that's so sweet of you 💓 means a lot, THANK YOU for reading my writing!! Anyway, the hardest part here was to think about the scenarios and I don't think I have enough brain power anymore 😭

Seungcheol: You accused him of spending too much time with his female staffer and implied he was being too close. He didn’t defend himself, but just stared at you, hurt in his eyes. Days later, you find out they were planning a surprise anniversary trip for you. You break down in guilt, texting, calling, crying in front of his dorm until he finally opens the door, jaw clenched, saying, “I was just trying to love you better.”

Jeonghan: You find a receipt for a jewelry store and assume he bought something for someone else. You lash out. He’s silent. Then he shows you the necklace meant for your birthday, still in his coat pocket. You go speechless. He turns away, quietly muttering, “You really think so little of me?” You spend a week trying to win him back because he's not all that easy when you questioned his loyalty.

Joshua: You told him he’s too passive, too quiet, like he doesn’t care. He listens, and then, for the first time, he yells; not because he’s angry, but because he’s hurt. That really hurt him. You realize you mistook calmness for indifference. You find him in the studio days later, leaving notes, meals, and finally a tearful voice memo: “I was wrong. Please let me make it right.”

Jun: You walked out mid-argument after accusing him of not prioritizing you. He waited the whole night. Didn’t sleep. Then you find out he missed his filming because he had taken off to surprise you with lunch earlier, but you weren’t home. You sob when you see the untouched food. It takes weeks before he can look at you the same.

Hoshi: You said he was too busy for you, always in the practice room, probably not even thinking about you. He doesn’t say much, but that night you find the letter he was writing for you, tucked in his bag. You feel like the worst person alive. You try everything to reach him. He finally says, “If I matter to you, you’ll wait like I waited.” He just wanted you to trust him :(

Wonwoo: You assumed the worst and thought he was pulling away because he was bored with you. But he was planning to ask your parents for their blessing. You find the messages, the research tabs for rings, and suddenly the silence from him makes sense. You leave sticky notes, long texts, send books with little apologies tucked in. He opens your last message and finally says: “I wanted forever. Did you?”

Woozi: You were upset he didn’t introduce you to his producer friends. You say he’s keeping you a secret. He slams his phone down, angry tears in his eyes, “I’m trying to protect you from this industry.” Turns out he was right; one of those friends was a known leaker. You find yourself knocking at his door late at night, heart in your throat, asking for a second chance.

Dokyeom: You misinterpret his kindness to a fan as romantic interest and blow up at him after an event. His face crumbles. “I thought you knew me better than that.” The silence from him is unbearable. You cry while holding one of his plushies, sending voice messages until he responds with a short: “Are you ready to actually talk now?”

Mingyu: In front of his other idol friends, you accused him of being selfish for spending too much time in the gym instead of with you. The car ride home is silent. Then he whispers, “You know I go there because it’s the only place I feel enough.” You’re destroyed with guilt. You cook for him, apologize profusely, and cry in his arms when he finally hugs you back.

Minghao: You questioned if his affection was performative because he acts distant in public. He freezes, then says, “I thought you understood who I am.” You realize he’s always been more private, and you just hurt him by expecting him to change. You write him a letter in Mandarin. He doesn’t respond for days; then shows up, holding it, eyes glassy.

Seungkwan: You accused him of being dramatic just to get your attention during a breakdown. You didn’t realize how much he was struggling, how sincere he was. You later find his journal where he wrote, “I wish she saw how hard I try.” You cry while hugging his hoodie, trying to call him, telling him, “I was wrong, I’m sorry, I didn’t see it then but I do now.”

Vernon: You found a girl’s earring in his car and accused him before he could explain. Turns out it belonged to his sister, who borrowed his car the day before. He shuts down. “I don’t want to be in a relationship where I constantly have to prove myself.” You spend days sending him playlists, flowers, letters, photos, until he texts: “Come over. Let’s talk.”

Dino: You told him he wasn’t mature enough to be in a relationship with you after a minor fight. You didn’t mean it, but he took it to heart [obviously]. He stops texting, stops showing up. You realize you cut him where it hurt most; his need to be taken seriously. You apologize at the dance studio, murmuring, “I never should’ve said that.” He looks at you and says, “Then prove it.”

[manytoonepoet]

Fragaria Memories - Ever Red Visual Analysis Essay

"I still remember, the sun, the memories, and the lack of guidance, shown in this cross section of this red pieces/fragment. Truth/reality, even in time, you can't take it away. Forever certain, this is something I will not forget."

(Duration of Analysis: December 2023 - April 2024).

A. Wiki (Intro Tab: Overview of the story section).

The mains of each bouquet is shown through little fragments with the colour of their respectively bouquet. Though, note that Cielomort and Badobarm's fragments are showcasing their entire face, this shows that they're a whole, complete, untouched by the corruption of the anxiety brought by the seeds.

Now, look at Hallritt's fragment, a part of his face is cut-off right across the surface of his fragment, "Cross section of this piece/fragment". His purity - something so precious to him was taken away, not only that, but it was reversed. He was reversed, giving birth to his alter-ego, this evil Hallritt. Additionally, the part that was taken out matches perfectly with the "evil" part shown in the mv - this being a little clue for what is to come.

B. Music Video (Analyzing frames that feel important).

From what I've noticed while watching the mv, it has this margin that maintained throughout the mv, which is rather reminiscent of a camera, befitting the line "I still remember", 0:55, that would pop up along the intro. The connection here is that he's recalling these memories as if he was watching them through an old videotape. Though since his and his friend's memories don't align, it felt like an error in his mind (think of a movie where you told your friend about a certain scene and they disregard it, saying that it didn't happen in the movie and told you about a completely different scene instead), therefore causing the glitches we frequently see in the mv.

Another connection to the glitches is this shot of the Fragaria crest with impeccable lighting, I may add, making everything look oh so great before the "camera fell" and the lenses shattered (shown in various scenes throughout the mv but it's more prominent in this scene), the everything became lone, corrupted and gray, 1:05 - 1:11.

Who was holding the camera you might ask? Hallritt. After all, the ones who get to hold the camera are those who get to tell the story (quote pointed out by my best friend).

This is due to the reason that 1.) This is Hallritt's pov and he's the main character and 2.) He's too optimistic - Merold, 2024.

He's always excited whenever he's given the chance to help, he's passionate about fulfilling his duty that it feels like his joy and love for his job and the people around him is overflowing. This is why he's holding the camera, the one who got to tell the story. The one who caused all of this.

The next scene needed to be taken into account is the overlapping clocks 1:28 - this may symbolizes the, as the name suggests, overlapping of timelines. - As we know, there are two separate timelines, told by the voice dramas and the songs. The latter somewhat foreshadowing what happened in the past timeline.

Other than that, I have a feeling that maybe, just maybe, there might be a timeloop in Fragaria.

Now, why do I think there's a possible timeloop?

CLOCKS. While yes, the clocks may mean that time has passed and they can no longer turn it back, they could also mean that they are running out of time before the loop restarts.

I'll assume that it's the seeds' corruption on Hallritt that allowed this timeloop to start. And this aligns with the seeds' form of corruption as well, anxiety.

This timeloop theory is more on a figurative and psychological sense rather than a literal and physical one. This will be in relation as to how Hallritt was feeling upon being corrupted.

Since the seeds bring anxiety, I believe we should take a look at that. -Many people have repetitive anxious "thoughts" that trigger fear responses and believe they will never be able to get rid of them. - AnxietyCentre.com. "Can't take it away." "I still remember."

This is where the timeloop theory comes into play:

Hallritt's been corrupted, and is now having these anxious thoughts (memories), about causing the destruction during the first timeline. And now in the current timeline, he's once again having these thoughts because he still remembers what he has done, and while he's trying to make a change, he's also anxiously counting down the minutes until it's gonna happen again.

When corruption shall resurface.

After all, the current world is already corrupted, shown in this close up of the Fragaria crest now rusty (shown in various clips). The knowledge and sight of this may be Hallritt's trigger, causing him to have a fear response.

That response being the glitched out image of him and his friends, 3:29, that paired with the margin, makes it look like an actual videotape that one could watch (as pointed out earlier). This may contribute to the next scene where the words "Live in memories" appear, as well as when the color of the background went from, red to white, the red again, only for the transition to take place (which looks like the opening and closing of the eyes, most probably Hallritt's), switching to white once more, then a blur, then gray, with each of the other knights' crest orbiting around Hallritt's before disappearing one by one.

What I would like to pay attention to is the thing is, despite Merold's crest being flashed first, his crest disappeared last, giving the impression that he knows something. Given that earlier, 1:27, him and hallritt were together in the middle of the line "Can't take it away". Other than that, later on, 2:43, he transitioned from his usual color palette to black and white. (Your Melody may give us some insights as to what that may be).

The transition from red, to white then black represents how Hallritt vies the current timeline, how every was so vibrant, rendered to black and white. (This, I believe, is where his repetitive, anxious thoughts is shown).

Other than that, my bestfriend also pointed out that the mv is basically just red, gray, then glitch and repeat, which gives way to the timeloop theory pointed out earlier.

I would also like to point out that in the second timeline, it's not Hallritt that is corrupting the world, it's the world that's corrupting Hallritt. Let me explain; the overlapping of timelines I've mentioned earlier plays here: It is because of that fact why the seeds are still having power over the world, why the Fragarian crest is already rusty, because despite the fact that the timeline restarted, the overlapping caused it to be corrupted by default, further triggering Hallritt's thoughts, leading him to think this will only last until the "end" of time.

"Ever Last".

He can never forget it, he will always be tied down by the ribbon's hold as if he was on a leash, bring everyone down with him, 3:42 - 3:45.

But he doesn't want that, no.

He doesn't want to hurt people, especially since it was all his fault, because of his "lack of guidance".

So he'll just glitch himself out of the picture, just so he'll not cause any more problems, 3:49. After all, that's what he is, right? A glitch?

But if there is one that's certain, "this is something I will never forget".

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"The knights ask for nothing in return for their love."

[cloudynia]

The Art of Losing

Today, I remain alone. Untouched by the presence of someone new. I try to carry on with life as if nothing has changed while gathering the shattered pieces of my heart you once so carelessly broke. To live without you is a weight I quietly bear. It's heavier than I thought especially when I see you smiling beside someone else.

Compared to her, I'm...

-

A day meant for joy which is my convocation... It became a memory etched with sorrow. Though we no longer speak, the wound you left still aches deeply. I remember it all too well... As I stood waiting for my moment on stage, I opened my phone, curious to see your WhatsApp status. And there she was... that woman in your photo. Fair-skinned and radiant, her lips beautifully shaped, her eyes glowing with confidence, her style graceful, her presence fierce and independent. No wonder you chose her.

still work in progress,

still learning how to be strong,

still rebuilding my life from the ground up.

-

And now, the car seat that once held me beside you has been filled by her, your chosen one. She looks so happy and cherished with your presence. The very reflection of how I once felt in your arms. I can picture it... You driving to her home, greeting her father with a smile, laughing as you did with mine. It’s all the same, isn’t it? Only the face has changed. I wonder... have you shared with her the same words, the same gestures, the same warmth you once gave to me?

-

It feels almost unreal with what I saw, what I’ve come to know. I understand I have no right to keep tabs on your life because we haven’t spoken in a long time. But still, I find it hard to believe that you found someone new so quickly. While I’m still here… silently trying to forget the memories we built together. The places we used to go... the beach, the Thai border, cafés, the paddy fields… I try to erase the echoes of us from those places. I haven’t returned to any of them since we separated. I stay home instead, writing letters that will never reach you.

-

One day, I believe all these letters will stand as proof how deeply I tried to protect my heart, how fiercely I tried not to fall again. I don’t know if I’ll still be alive when that day comes, but if I am and I’ve truly healed, I will burn these letters. Not to erase the memories, not to suppress the emotions or the journey I’ve walked through...

It's because I've learned:

To love does not always mean to possess.

To love does not mean holding your hand so tightly.

Sometimes, we must let go... For peace, for comfort.

-

And this time…

I choose to let you go.

-

Though it hurts, I release you for the sake of the future we once dreamed of together. It pains me to see you still standing in the same place, while I had been asking you to move forward with me. You know what hurts the most? I cannot force change upon you because it's your choice to stay at those places, so we decide to let go and carve separate paths with purpose.

-

As for me? Don’t worry. I will continue to choose myself and live my life. Though a thousand memories of you still linger at the window of my heart, let time be the one to decide our fate. And in time, each of us will find our rainbow even we are no longer walking side by side.

Love notes from me:

Life never tires of offering us new experiences. One of them is learning that people will come and go. The human heart constantly yearns for change, for new stimulation to breathe life into its days. It’s okay if you’re still trying to let go of those who once painted your skies with color, even if your heart still whispers otherwise. We may lose a part of ourselves after losing someone we love, but remember to not remain fallen forever. Rise. Seek the strength that still lives within you, even after a piece of your soul has been torn away. It is through loss that we truly come to know ourselves. In the quiet aftermath, we uncover strength we never knew we carried. From sorrow, we learn to hold joy more gently, more dearly. And slowly, we learn to welcome change not as an ending, but as a sacred part of growing.

Credit picture: The Separation by Edvard Munch (1896)

[vole-mon-amour]

2x03, part 1.

Oh wow. OH WOW???? I'M— That's is soooo uncharacteristic for Kaz. And for once, it fits.

She's the only one who can beat his ass and stay untouchable. Get his ass!!

Damn it. I think they nailed it. Even the memory of that in the book gets me all riled up. I'm so mad at Rollins and what he did to those kids. I'd say "Damn it, Jordie", but really, it wasn't his fault. They were just orphans against the entire world, and Jordie wanted the best for him and Kaz. He could he could trust this man. The question of rolling robbing them and leaving them to die, though? How can somebody to that is another topic.

And that's why I disliked you even in the books. :) Funny, though, and very convenient to turn back into the prince when the situation needs that. "My Tsarevich."

For once, I agree with Alina. Show him who's the boss.

I have an ao3 tab open since 2x01. And I am definitely reading that after finishing the season. :) This is a good moment.

Honestly, the way they mixed up the books and something that didn't exist in it.

Wait, WHAT??????? Somebody explain pls. Surely they're not hinting at Jesper and Wylan having sex before????? Surely it's something else???

Jesper is precious.

A Merchant's son. The one whose father hired people to kill him. My good, their stories! The book is sucking me back in.

Yeah, Jesper, you're a goner. :') Just like you were with Kaz. I'm still convinced that if Kaz was more... available, maybe? Then something would have happened. Bc there's no wonder in my mind that Jesper has a crush on Kaz in the books.

I mean, technically, she may be right. But she constantly demands of him. I mean, yeah, she's loyal, but so are other crows? And they don't ask anything in return because they know who they are dealing with and what comes with it, pros AND cons? Sorry if I stick with Jesper that will follow Kaz to Hell and accept that maybe not blindly, but quietly. He'll be ok with Kaz scolding him or whatever. Doesn't mean it should be that way forever, but Jesper knows what comes with it. He trusts him. He loves him. So why's Inej special, huh? The fact that she pushes Kaz into telling her = pushes him away. Let him have this at his own pace. "Oooh, I don't care about your trauma, oooh, tell me immediately." Piss off. Perfect couple, my ass.

Like here. Jesper ACCEPTS it. Jesper will follow him. Kaz means so much to him. He doesn't entirely understand Kaz, but he TRUSTS him & waits for him when Kaz needs him to.

And before anyone says anything, K*nej is my absolute notp. Choose the reason that suits you, but I will never ship Kaz and Inej. Kaz can stay with Jesper and Inej can stay with Nina.

Gorgeous. Stunning. Breathtaking.

No fucking way? Wait, did Kaz tell her in the books? I believe he didn't, and definitely not at that moment? HELLLOOOOOO??? I'm not really sure. A re-read is a must now.

That is a beautiful gesture. *sigh* His hands are shaking, and yet.

It was Kaz's trauma that pulled him back from Inej in the books. Not Nina. I don't need this implication that they would've kissed if it wasn't for Nina. Yeah, I'm having a hard time watching those scenes, just like I knew I would.

Now THIS I ship. "She missed Nina." Girlfriends. <3

He. Him.

A badass!!

Not Genya :( Get fucked, Sasha. Get fucked.

Are they... holding hands? I'm so confused about how they portray Wesper. It's out of nowhere!! C'mon, they hold hands the entire time & I'm so disappointed??? Jesper doesn't know him at all. He calls him a stranger. It's so logical in CK, what happens here????

Kaz прикладывается к бутылке? Like, yeah, he drinks when he stressed out, but to carry a drink with himself, everywhere? Is this the Kaz we know?

[voiceless-terror]

Love your writing and hope you are doing well! My weirdly specific prompt is: Jon and Martin (or whoever) and disastrous trip to the grocery store.

Post 200 Bliss, Grocery Stylez

“Martin!”

“Jon! I’m over here.” Within a few seconds, Jon is jogging down the aisle towards Martin, breathing heavily as he tries to balance the overloaded basket in his arms. 

“Thank God,” he pants, hair falling from his messy bun and almost obscuring his eyes. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“You’ve been gone for two minutes, and I told you I’d stay here,” Martin replies with fond amusement, taking the basket from his hands and almost stumbling with it’s heavy weight. “Wait, why did you get like, twenty cans? How did you carry this?”

“I have some strength, I’ll have you know,” Jon sniffs, though his arms are clearly shaking from strain. “It’s soup. You can’t go wrong with soup.”

“We still haven’t finished any of the chicken noodle we have at home.” Martin recalls the ten or so nondescript cans sitting in the back of their cupboard, untouched. They’re the easy open kind too, with the tab at the top, so Jon wouldn’t have to struggle with a can opener. 

“Well, these are tomato and basil. It’s different.” Jon insists, gesturing emphatically to the basket before putting a hand on his hip. If Martin had realized how difficult this was going to be, he would’ve left Jon at home. They’d already left ‘at the wrong time, Martin, everyone goes on a Saturday, it’ll be so crowded’ and parked in a ‘terrible spot, Martin, right by the carts, we’ll be lucky if we don’t get a dent in the car.’

But he would never leave Jon alone anymore. Not willingly. 

Martin had done most of the grocery shopping in their three weeks at the cottage, and Jon was happy with whatever he brought home, too caught up in the euphoria of their reunion. Hell, Martin probably would’ve eaten canned peaches if it meant staying there with Jon forever.

But this isn’t the safehouse. This isn’t even their reality. It’s somewhere else, and Jon is trying to hoard soup.

“We don’t need twenty cans of different.” Martin pulls a couple of out of the basket and into his cart, handing the rest back to Jon. “And we don’t have the room for it.”

Jon gives him a scowl but does as he’s told, marching back to the other aisle. Martin stays put so as not to worry him, and goes back to ruminating over how many eggs they’ll need for the next week. Maybe just the one pack? 

“We never finished the pack at home,” Jon’s back at his side, holding a bag of crisps and completely fine with giving Martin a heart attack, it would seem. “They’ve got a few weeks in them yet. Expiration dates are rubbish.”

He shoots him a half-hearted glare that melts into a smile as soon as he sees what’s in his hand. “Ooh, you got my favorite-”

“Because I love you.” Jon says, placing the bag delicately atop the canned goods. He’s very adamant about how things should go in the cart, immediately correcting Martin’s more haphazard placements. One of the few things my nan instilled in me, besides good manners, Jon had joked, and promptly hit Martin when he eyed him dubiously. “And I didn’t want you to have to double back, even though you’re the one who insisted on starting at the wrong side of the grocery store.”

“There is no wrong side of the grocery store-”

“There is, and we’re on it.”

“For fuck’s sake-” Martin grabbed the cart and moved to back it up, forgetting the cardboard display directly behind him and knocking the impressive amount of tupperware it housed to the floor. He ignores Jon’s snort and drops to his knees with a grumble. It takes a full five minutes to clean up, and Jon is no help whatsoever, smiling and pretending to be completely immersed in egg prices. Prick.

The rest of the trip is much of the same. Martin wants to get bagels. Jon insists the fresh ones from the shop next door are much better. Jon tortures him by throwing a box of oolong in with his PG tips. They spend a good twenty minutes in the snack aisle while Jon has a breakdown over the spelling of ‘Jammy Dodgers’ (It was always spelled ‘Jammie’ in our world, wasn’t it? Am I remembering that correctly, Martin? I don’t like this one bit!) and whether it’s safe to eat them. Martin makes a mental note to get them out of the house more often - Jon’s worked himself into quite the state over biscuits, of all things. But it’s when they get to the last aisle that Jon audibly gasps, a hand flying to his chest as a look of horror dawns on his face. Martin immediately begins to fret, assuming the worst.

“What is it? Is it the Eye? Jon-”

“Such an idiot.” Jon groans, throwing the five or so spices he’d been holding into the cart with a flourish, almost destroying the delicate balance he’d maintained thus far. “We don’t have a Super Savers Card.”

“...What?”

“All of these items are on sale, but only if we have the discount card.” Jon gestures at a Buy One, Get One Free! sign below the paper plates. Martin rolls his eyes, attempting to calm his racing heart.

“I’m sure it’s fine. It’s not going to make that much of a difference-”

“We aren’t made of money, Martin- it’s not like we’ve got Lukas’s credit card anymore.” Ah, those were the days. “This is ridiculous. I suppose I’ll have to sign us up, you finish here.” He heaves what is supposed to be a long-suffering sigh, but walks towards the customer service desk with a little too much pep in his step to really sell it. Jon loves paperwork. And dramatics.

It only takes him a few minutes to grab the napkins and other necessities, and by the time he’s done Jon’s waving him over to self-checkout, bouncing on his feet with the card in hand. “Did you get the-”

“Good napkins? Of course.” He learned that lesson a few weeks ago, when Jon spilled water all over the counter and lamented their ‘non-absorbent paper towels, you can’t skimp on quality!’ He watches as Jon swipes the card along the scanner and begins to unload the cart. It’s nice, these little mundane moments. No matter how irritating Jon can be, he’s just happy to see him alive and whole and snarking about produce. Months ago he wouldn’t have thought it possible but here they are, doing the weekly shop. It’s kind of fun. 

He balks at the price tag, but Jon was right- the card did take a bit off. They aren’t making much money, barely scraping by with Martin’s part time job and their shitty little flat, but they’re making it work. He feeds the machine a few banknotes and it spits out a receipt, the screen lighting up with one final message.

Thank you for shopping with us, Martin K. Blackwood!

He looks up to see Jon failing to hide a smirk. Little bastard. 

It’s a good thing Jon likes his soup so much, Martin thinks to himself as he’s loading up the car and Jon returns the cart. Because tonight I’ll be getting takeaway for one.

He never follows through on that threat, though he does change the name on the card a few months later. Martin Blackwood-Sims, he tells the clerk at the service desk, the small black box burning a hole in his pocket. She smiles, offers her congratulations. 

It’s got a nice ring to it.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30477435

[gxccistyless]

Fine Line: The Divorce Series - part two.

In case you missed part one you can find it here. Feedback always appreciated in any form. Feel free to message me if you have any questions!! 

Trigger warnings for this include; mentions of death, drug and alcohol abuse. 

It’s ten passed twelve when Eliza opens her eyes for the first time, she hadn’t slept a good nights sleep since Fallon’s diagnosis but last night she didn’t wake not once.They had her funeral yesterday, she doesn’t remember much, she thinks this is probably partially why she was able to sleep so well, knowing that Fallon was finally resting at her forever home. Harry helped to organise the funeral and had been more available to both her and their other two children in the lead up to it and insisted in paying for it in full. But yesterday was too much for him, he left somewhere between the wake and the kids’ bed time and Eliza hadn’t heard from him since.  Harry woke up in his apartment for the first time in weeks, he’d be living at Eliza’s in the spare room from the time when things got to be too much for Eliza to handle on her own. He missed his bed and the peace and quiet, but he’d never allow himself to say those words out loud. Right in between losing her and laying her to rest, they celebrated her birthday. Gemma thought it would be a good idea to acknowledge the day instead of pushing it to the side, Harry just kind of wanted to push through and try and get through the day, but Eliza liked the idea of being able to blow out a candle for Fallon and so to appease his ex-wife’s needs and support her through her grief, Harry bit his tongue And they did just that, celebrated her. 

elizadoherty 4 years ago you made me a mama sweet angel baby Fallon. I miss you, thanks for changing my life 🕊 Liked by harrystyles, niallhoran and 12,378,346 others,

 The funeral came around quicker than he had anticipated, it kind of crept up on him. After today things would go back to the way they were before Fallon got sick snd Harry wasn’t sure if he was ready for that. He wasn’t ready to be away from Koa and Lennon, or even Eliza for that matter. Everyone was so wrapped up in supporting Eliza on the day, they had forgot that Harry had lost a child too. So distracted by Eliza, no one noticed Harry when he slipped out in the middle of her wake, no one but Eliza.

There was no communication between the two in the weeks that followed, he locked himself in the studio with only a select few people and she was trying to get back to somewhat of a normal routine with the twins. He was making good progress with an album, it wasn’t as upbeat as previous albums had been but it just reflected what he was going through and how he was feeling. With no communication and his lack of interest in their other two children Eliza goes ahead and books a court date to finalise their divorce. Harry is leaving the studio when he gets words of the court date being set, he heads straight to the bar.  Harry is on his sixth drink when he finally gets a hold of Eliza. I miss you he tells her We just lost — we just — how can you even be thinking about finalising our divorce. She cries and that’s when he knows he’s fucked up. Eliza don’t cry, I’m sorry, I’m such a fuck up, it should have been me, not her... Eliza knows she should hang up the phone, call Gemma let her deal with him and go back to bed. Instead she asks Harry for his location, calls a sitter and by the time she heads to the bar its almost 10pm. 

Eliza finds Harry in the corner booth, away from prying eyes and away from windows with his back toward the rest of the people in the pub. By now he’s lost count of how many drinks he’s consumed. She orders herself a scotch on the rocks. The bartender looks between her and Harry and wonders what they must be going through to have lead them here tonight. They sit in silence mostly, Harry throwing back three drinks in the time it tasked Eliza to finish the one she ordered herself when she first got here. The bartender draws a line in the sand and cuts Harry off, he pays for his long bar tab remembering to ask the bartender to include Elizas scotch on the rocks and then he goes to leave. 

Harry makes it all the way to his car before realising he cannot find his keys. When he reaches the bar door she’s standing out front her arms crossed over her chest,p. You didn’t think I’d let you drive home in your state did you?  My children have already buried their sister this year, I’m not about to let them bury their father too. The words Eliza said to drunk Harry would play on sober minded Harry in the weeks to come. She half carries him to her car and takes him home with her. For the first time since they split, he sleeps in the same bed as her it’s only so I know if you stop breathing and to make sure you don’t choke on your own vomit. Eliza watches Harry breathe for the rest of the night, much like she watched Fallon take breaths in and out until she took her last, the only difference here is that Harry never stops breathing. Somewhere between 4am and 7am she doses off and Harry slips out of her sheets and out her back door before she’s awake. Eliza canceled their court date again, realising that perhaps Harry needed time to grieve before they started to go down this path.

harrystyles ALBUM . IS. COMPLETE, Coming to you soon, happy holidays. All the love, H xx Liked by annetwist, gemmastyles and 20,368,289 others. 

Harry finished writing his album just before Christmas, it was literally the fastest album he’s ever been able to write. After all this time and experience, he knew the people he needed in his space to get the job done. A lot of the songs were sad, and Eliza knew that some songs would be about her and she fully expected some songs to be about Fallon, so when he turned up at her place to show her the demo she was surprised to find no songs about their angel daughter. Eliza, that’s sick that you’d think I’d cash in on — no why would I — I can’t believe you would think that. He was angry, didn’t see she was coming from a good place and not trying to attack him. She didn’t think it would be a bad thing if he had written songs about Fallon, she was growing concerned about his abilities to deal with the loss of their daughter... he couldn’t even say her name.  He was trying to be more consciences to spend more time with Koa and Lennon. With the album complete it was only a matter of time before his management would undoubtedly have him on the road and all over the globe. Truthfully he was dreading it. He spent most afternoons putting the children to bed before bedding back to his house. He noticed things about her that were different in the Fallon aftermath. She was lonely at night, and when Koa and Lennon were out with him of an afternoon she had not so much to do. She had already organised the bookshelf, and the kitchen. Harry knew what the perfect Christmas gift would be to keep her busy. 

Whilst she had redecorated the lounge and her bedroom. Fallon’s room remained untouched, the door closed and the room just the way their almost four year old had left it the day she left for the hospital and never come home. Sometimes when he would finish putting the twins to bed and when Eliza was sleeping on the couch, he would sneak into Fallon’s room and sob. Being in her room was the only time he allowed himself to feel anything.

elizadoherty Happy holidays from the Doherty-Styles household, wrangling two and half year old twins into a photo is hard work and this mama couldn’t get it done. Please enjoy a photo of our delicious cookie “nomies” that are absolutely not store bought. 😝🎅🏻🎄🤶🏻 Liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 2,637,367 others.

harrystyles ELIZA X OLIVE. Merry Christmas.  Liked by elizadoherty, olivedogherty and 18,573,663 others,

Harry’s album came out the week of Christmas. With the new year there would be lots of changes coming for both him, Eliza and their two children. He would be off on tour, first to the states then, back home for a UK stint, followed by the rest of Europe, then to South America wrapping up with Australia, New Zealand and a few dates across Asia. He wouldn’t be home for more than two days in the next nine months. This bothered Eliza. Partly because she wanted him to be home so they could finalise the divorce, partly because she wouldn’t have his help with the twins and mostly because he had already lost one child, had he not noticed the importance of having quality time with his children.  She had already been annoyed by the fact that he had bought a dog into her home and gifted it to her for Christmas, she didn’t have time for a dog.. she would barely have time for herself and the two kids he was leaving behind to go on tour, and he though a doh would be a good idea?

Her thoughts all come to a head in the middle of an argument on New Years Eve. We need to finalise the divorce, we both deserve to move on. He didn’t want to move on, he liked being able to come by see her, and the kids and still be able to know she was legally still his wife. You don’t care about me and the kids, you’re not even going to see them for the next nine months, don’t tell me you care. He was mad, not because she was right but because he wanted to see them but didn’t know how to ask her to join him on tour with them. I never wanted to divorce you. You’re the one who filed for divorce Eliza. It’s Eliza’s turn to be mad. Well there was no hope for our marriage, we hadn’t had sex in months, you were sleeping on the couch, what the fuck kind of marriage is that. It wasn’t a healthy argument for the tel of them to be having, especially with the twins in the next room. I was a drug addict Eliza, I was also an alcoholic, I couldn’t really walk up the stairs, that’s why I slept on the couch not because I didn’t love you. He had stormed out, the following day he had booked in with his lawyers to come back the last week of February for their court date and two days after that he was back on tour.

harrystyles USA thank you for being the perfect start to this tour, you were all so beautiful! I’ll be back soon. All the love, H xx. Liked by annetwist, gemmastyles and 27,627,855 others. 

January rolled by faster than she would like to admit. Harry was back in London briefly to see the twins, Anne picked them up and took them to him as per his request. His birthday was tomorrow, Eliza offered for him to keep them for the weekend whilst he was in town, but he had other plans and declined her offer. She’s trying to give you time with your children. Anne nagged him, but her words fell on deaf ears. He had plans to drink his way through his birthday and not be able to recall any of it.  He woke in the morning to a voicemail from her. Harry, happy — well i know it’s not happy really — but happy birthday. I’m sorry about the divorce papers, I was... reaaaaalllyyy dumb. Anyway, see ya. She had been drinking, she could never hold her liquor. He remembers back to a time pre marriage and pre children when she would go out and have a few too many cocktails and call him from the bar, he remembers driving to fetch her, pulling over on the side of the road because his driving would be too much for her stomach to handle. He thinks about the way he used to hold her when she was too tired to walk and then the way he’d hold her in bed as her breath would steady and she’d finally succumb to the effects of the alcohol and sleep. God he loved her. 

elizadoherty HBD to my #1 (And only) bb daddy, @harrystyles, you’re a great dad, friend and I’m so glad I get to raise my babies with you. Here’s a throwback to when we were younger and when you had less wrinkles, old man.  Liked by harrystyles, annetwist and 18,257,268 others.  He made a mental note to return her the favour of nice words on social media when her birthday would roll around come summer. They were younger and happier in that photo. He wouldn’t wish his kids away, but he does wish he could go back to being that happy, young and carefree guy in the photo. 

After his birthday, things continued to go downhill for the two of them and their co-parenting endeavour. It started when he was photographed leaving a nightclub with a random girl on his arm the night of his birthday and things escalated when a week before their court date she had been photographed with someone new. This was the first time since the two of them had started dating all those years ago that they had been photographed with someone else.

TMZ 

Harry Styles ex-wife, Eliza Doherty, spotted out with new mystery beau shopping over the weekend.

It was the comments left the photo that sent Eliza into a rage. “Where are her kids?” “Spending all of Harry’s alimony I guess” that’s all the end of their marriage was to the public? Just about money? Never mind the emotional turmoil either of them had gone through, the sleepless nights the days where she wouldn’t know if he would make it home. The public didn’t understand, and never would, what it wad to be like Eliza Styles.  On top of the public ridicule, Harry of course had to get his two cents worth in. I don’t want you bringing random guys around the twins. It was a harmless comment and something she would surely say to him if she didn’t have manners or any kind of belief that he would be responsible with who he introduced their children to. Focus on yourself, Harry. And less on who I’m bringing home..

TMZ

reports of Harry Styles and ex-wife, Eliza Doherty, heading into court today to finalise their divorce after almost a year snd a half. He wore a black shirt and a cross earring for the occasion. 

Harry was trending on twitter and the photo and article from TMZ were attached to every tweet. Most people agreed he didn’t look himself. Everyone agreed it was inappropriate to take the photo and then post it to the masses but here it was for everyone to see. Eliza shook her head and put her phone away, soon enough she’d be in the same room as him for the first time since New Year’s Eve. 

 She had never been more scared to see him, hadn’t heard from him personally for the entire first leg of his tour, which even when they were having problems was odd. Perhaps he was still angry,  she had moved passed the anger stage and into the sad stage pretty quickly, it had been like this throughout their entire relationship. She would get over things quickly whilst he would hold onto things for days and days at one time. Harry knew based off of her voicemail that she had been ready to move passed the argument on New Year’s Eve, and he was almost on the same page as her and then they argued about partners and children and things had again been sour since. 

As soon as the time drew closer she began to feel like she couldn’t breathe. Like she might collapse at any second and never wake up again, like someone had taken all the air out of her lungs and out of this building. She used to enjoy the way her heart would skip a beat and the way her lungs would lose all the air when he entered her orbit, but now the feeling made her sick to her stomach. For the first time in a long time she couldn’t stand the thought of being in the same room as him. 

Part of him didn’t want to be here. This was partially to do with the fact that last night he had drank his body weight in alcohol, was very hungover and couldn’t think straight, but it was mostly to do with the fact that he couldn’t stand to see her cry and knew there was a good chance with the way they left things off that he might be the reason for her tears. 

He reeked of vodka and scotch and tequila and definitely weed, at least that’s all the things that Eliza could smell as he sat across from her. He was using again, or drinking again at the very least. It made her sad, he had worked so hard to get to a good place. Perhaps this was his way of coping, his way of dealing with Fallon dying. His way of forgetting about his problems. It wasn’t healthy, she’d make a note to talk to Gemma and Anne when she got back to the kids later in the afternoon.

He looked as if he hadn’t slept at all since the last time she saw him some five weeks ago now — which would make sense because she hadn’t slept properly in that long either. His shirt was creased and it was a mess, he looked unkempt which was a rare sight. Mismatched socks, untucked shirt, the pants he was wearing just as creased as his shirt was. His hair was longer than usual— he was letting it grow again... was this even any of her business anymore? — It probably wasn’t but she still examined him from head to toe, He’s wearing his shades inside, what an asshole she thinks. He was almost unrecognisable. He was most definitely no longer her Harry. She didn’t care make eye contact with him, and he extended the same courtesy not that he had much of s choice in the matter.  Mr Styles is offering Ms Doherty 50% of all his assets, as of this time that part has not changed.  Ms. Doherty would be happy to only 25%, your honour. She feels it’s adequate enough to provide for the children, she has a job and doesn’t require 50%. Mr Styles insists in the 50%, even 25% of it were to go into a fund for the children. 

Her lawyer looks to her for approval, even though she really doesn’t need Harry’s money, she doesn’t want to argue with him.

Mr Styles would like joint custody of their two children, Koa Everett Styles and Lennon River Styles. Your honour, Mrs Doherty requests that the father of her children submits to drug and alcohol tests and has supervised visitations until he can get himself — uh well... clean.  The judge rules in her favour, Harry has to pass three tests in a row for both drugs and alcohol before he can come anywhere near the twins. The rest esd pretty straight forward and not much different to what they had already signed on, she got the house and would receive child support on top of the 50% of the money they made from the time they first got married. Harry doesn’t see his children  till two days before their third birthdays, almost three months after the court hearing. It had taken him three months but this time he swore to keep clean.

elizadoherty happy three my miracle babes, there are no words 🥺  Liked by gemmastyles, annetwist and 4,472,378 others. 

A month after the twins’ birthday it’s Eliza who changes the agreement for supervision required to him being allowed to do visits at their house. Both the twins and Harry would be much more comfortable and if would give her more of a chance to observe him with them before she lets them stay with him overnight. He’s the one who suggests they go to therapy. He tells her it might help, and that he’s willing to try anything so long as she is too.  The first session back in therapy goes well, they haven’t done one together since just after the twins were born. They mostly discuss how to co-parent better and how to communicate with each other, the therapist warns to discuss Fallon and Harry practically has a panic attack at the mention of her name. When he instantly gets up and walks out on the session it’s just you and the therapist and 20 minutes left on the timer. I don’t think he’s ready to talk about her yet. It’s a sensitive topic for him. It hasn’t quite been a year yet since she passed. He won’t even talk about her with me and that was out daughter.  When Eliza gets home, Harry is on her doorstep. He’s sober, but crying and hyperventilating. She sits next to him and just hugs him not really knowing what to do. Eliza prays that her boyfriend, Andrew, doesn’t come over today. Her prayers are answered Eliza and Harry are left on their own. He cries for a long period of time before the head inside her house, Eliza is silently grateful that Anne offered to take the kids to Holmes Chapel for the week. Where did we go wrong? We should have been better and communicating. I was depressed when I couldn’t tour straight away and then you let me go and honestly this is going to sound fucking terrible but I didn’t want to come home.  So many confessions spill from his lips in a short space of time. Then Eliza starts. I just wanted you to be okay, you were struggling, I know you were depressed. I keep thinking about it, I don’t remember the last time we kissed or had sex, maybe it was before the twins were even born, we should have made more time. When she stops he’s not crying anymore he’s just staring at her with his eyebrows furrowed and then he does the unimaginable he kisses her. Not just a regular peck, his hands on the back of her head and her hands are on his chest and for just a moment they’re back in 2019 and they’re newly engaged and their wold is perfect. And then he pulls away, apologises and leaves and they are back to being divorced, estranged people who happen to share two children together. 

[annelim]

Annie is buzzed.

When she’d ordered the first gin and tonic, the man taking her order had paid her no mind; now, a few in, he simply blinked at her momentarily, as if trying to gauge if she was a functioning alcoholic or simply having a bad day. When her dad, perched across from her at their table in Prune with his glasses resting on his nose as he surveyed the menu, ordered his usual “soda water, please”, the man at once seemed to have decided they were collectively a lost cause, and went about fetching their drinks and putting in their orders--too much food for either of them to consume in one sitting. All of her mom’s favorite things, for her birthday.

And so Annie is buzzed, now. 

Pressed into her knees are tiny shards of grass from the freshly-mown lawn of the cemetery Melinda Lim’s ashes lay at rest within. She can still feel the faint remnants of cool Earth against her skin, like a phantom limb. 

Annie takes a generous sip of her gin and tonic. 

…

She was newly-twelve when Melinda was diagnosed. She remembers this now, distinctly, because it was nearly Halloween, and Halloween, to Melinda and Annie Lim, was tantamount to Christmas for many other families. And while Annie was decidedly old enough at this point to find dressing up a bit overrated, she still planned to, even if she was simply to be sitting on the porch handing out candy to the children in their neighborhood with her mom. They would coordinate costumes. They would designate a theme. There would likely be glue guns and crafting supplies involved. Annie had ideas. 

She remembers walking into the sound of her dad’s murmurs in the living room. She remembers calling out. She remembers both of her parents sitting on the couch. She remembers being excited about that fact. Her dad home, her mom there. She remembers feeling, for one fleeting moment, that everything she could ever need was right here in front of her.

This is a very childish thing to think, of course, and Annie, at newly-twelve, should perhaps not have been thinking it. 

In the flurry of first appointments and the cataclysmic re-shifting of priorities, Annie never brought the upcoming holiday up. She’d simply decided what they would do, and went about procuring what was required. That morning, she informed her mom, and the pair suited up--cat ears and sunglasses and whiskers lovingly and tenderly drawn upon each other’s cheeks with Melinda’s eyeliner, worn the entire day. Cool cats. 

Now, she looks back and tries to remember that time of her life as anything other than the beginning of an end. 

… 

Annie is buzzed. 

Her dad is talking to her, but she feels like less of a receptive entity, less of a captive audience, and more of an amorphous blob that’s simply existing at the mercy of the universe. She had tried and failed to express those exact feelings to the counselor her dad had made her see for about three years after Melinda’s death, until he was satisfied with the idea that Annie felt okay. Okay enough that she wasn’t going to do anything. Okay enough that she was going to grow up relatively unscathed. And she is, largely. She is very happy. She is very lucky. Her life is unfolding before her, her future nearly-blindingly bright. There is a void, a chasm she sometimes carries, but largely, it is concealed even to her. Today it just so happens to not be. Today it is an open wound. 

Her dad is asking her about work. The waiter will be coming with the bill shortly. Between the two of them sits about eight plates of food, all largely untouched except for one or two bites. Ted will eat the leftovers for a week and a half, probably. Annie clears her throat, offers some anecdotes about a client she’s attempting to woo, about all the preliminary concepts she’s sketched. The Earth continues to turn. 

...

The entire process of Melinda Lim dying was really very clinical. It was by no means sudden; it felt torturously long to bear witness too, and sickly, it still wasn’t enough time. No one could say that she didn’t fight. There were a lot of medical professionals, of course. Strings of nurses and nurses aides and doctors, people who went to school to save people forced to watch this particular one die. Nobody was keen to admit that, despite “aggressive” being a term that was loosely thrown around quite a bit. Annie read a lot of books in waiting rooms or hospital hallways. There was a lot of crying. These were all normal things. Just big feelings.

But there were good things, too. Not every second of death is macabre, just as not every moment living is necessarily filled to its’ brim with vivacity. Making way too many pancakes every Sunday morning long after her mom could no longer stomach the sight of them, but pretended to for Annie and Ted’s benefit. Singing along to James Taylor on the way to treatment. The gentle way, even as Melinda Lim’s body weakened, crumpled inward on itself, betrayed the life that still clung to it, that Ted held her as they swayed in the living room to Ray Charles, Melinda’s feet resting on top of Ted’s, Annie sitting at the top of the stairs long after she was supposed to have been in bed, her arms wrapped around her knees. 

One day, Melinda insisted they go back to school shopping. It was the dead of winter. Annie acquiesced, of course, because to deny her mom this would be to deny the reality of the situation, and that’s not what they were doing. Things were scary, and mostly terrible. Melinda was sick more often than not. Even that day, their perfect day, she had to duck into a trash can outside of a boutique to discreetly puke, and Annie had realized that she’d learned at a certain point to pay it no mind, and she wasn’t sure what to make of that fact. They went to all the places they normally would, Annie trying on anything Melinda wanted, even the things she hated. They went out for ice cream after, the pair of them sitting in the window of the parlor devouring their cones, going over Annie’s list of necessary supplies for the upcoming school year, a now-uncertain time, a place she wasn’t sure she wanted to be. That night, Melinda tucked Annie into bed, though they both knew she was too old for it. She kissed her forehead. She thanked her.

Some time later, and a couple of weeks after her mom died, Annie got a package in the mail with her name on it from L.L. Bean. She assumed it was a grandparent gift from Ted’s parents, forever eager to ply her with belongings. This was always a point of contention between Annie’s parents--that Annie’s grandparents preferred material goods to time spent together--and so Annie nearly didn’t open in, existing in a well of grief, selfish and childish and wanting nothing but one thing she couldn’t have, feeling loyal, forever, to that ghost. She was thirteen, and her world was on fire. She set the box on the counter and sliced open the tape with her house key, heaving the tabs open with little delicacy. 

Inside sat a backpack. There was no note, and there didn’t need to be. This was Melinda Lim extending the future the courtesy of her consideration, and allowing it to proceed without her.

Annie slept with the backpack for a month. 

… 

Annie is buzzed. 

She is buzzed and she is listening desperately to her dad speak about an article he read on the Alaskan Viaduct in Seattle as she sits in the passenger seat of his car, the wind whipping her hair around her face haphazardly as they drive through town. She breathes deeply, trying to make sense of the details he’s offering her. They’re listening to NPR, and the sun is setting over Eureka. She watches as he gesticulates with his hand, the other planted firmly on the steering wheel, and his wedding ring catches her eye, and she thinks of him as a widower, and suddenly her throat is thick. This is the way Annie’s thoughts churn within her mind when she is like this, rapid fire and often unrelenting. She is remembering things she doesn’t want to remember. He asks her where she would like to go, and she says 'home,' but she isn't sure if that place exists anymore, really.

But for him, if she’s being honest. 

Her dad asks her where to turn, and she offers the directions easily, as taking the roads to Benji’s house--her house--by this point, is a form of muscle memory. And his car is in the driveway. He’s there. The very idea of this makes Annie want to cry. 

Ted asks her if she’s okay, and she isn’t, so she nods. Tells him to drive safe. Tells him she’ll call him tomorrow.

She no longer feels buzzed, hollowness assuming the place where warmth once laid, and there is, if she’s being honest, only one person that she wants.

[thrillridesz]

saw this around and i was wondering if you could assign your mutuals w a tbz song each?

Hi! Sure, of course ^^ I’ve seen this around too and fair warning... this post is LOOONNGGG so I’ve placed a ‘keep reading’ tab!

Also I’m really sorry if we’re mutuals and your name isn’t here >< I might be forgetting some maybe because we haven’t been talking..? but honestly if you want me to assign you a tbz song privately, just dm me 💙

@chaoticdeobi - Giddy Up

ok so bea is honestly a ray of sunshine wherever she goes and she’s one of the few people that I’ve really really gotten close to here on tumblr >< talking to her feels so easy, fun and comfortable which is exactly how I feel when I listen to giddy up! It’s upbeat like she is and the positive vibes that radiate from them is insane 🌟

@atbzkingdom - Tattoo

Tattoo is deep and meaningful and so is Dee. She’s the one I turn to for advice and I look up to her a lot! She’s the sane one of the chaotic idiots LMAO and I think tattoo just really suits her aura as well as grace 🖤 ily dee

@heartyyjeno - Bloom Bloom

I’ve once said alesha reminds me of Eric and I still stand by that ^^ bloom bloom is a song that encompass youthful radiance and excitement and I believe that’s Alesha to a T. This girl is just a huge ball of floof and uwuness that I just wanna squish her cheeks sometimes 😆

@experimentalwrites - Whiplash

talking to nabi feels like I’m talking to a close friend even though we haven’t been mutuals for long. There’s just something about her that makes me feel really safe and just content around her? It’s the exact feeling I get from listening to whiplash 😊

@sankyeom - Spring Snow

belle to me seems really intimidating at first and almost untouchable. but once I started talking to her, I realise that her presence is just so soothing? she’s the sort of friend that you can talk about the things that are most dear to your heart and she’d listen intently and you know that you can trust her. shes gentle and subtle but makes a deep impact, like Spring Snow ✨

@moondustaeil - Ego

this is surprising even for me but after much thought, I still think amber would do well being paired with Ego. she’s straightforward and tells it like it is which is honestly very refreshing to see. she’s like an older sister to me but like the super cool, edgy sister I’ll never live up to lol 😂 but yes ego has the same edge to me hence the pairing!

@thepixelelf - Checkmate

checkmate is a song that screams boss lady and fierceness which are terms I associate with casey. she has such boss like vibes that I’m sometimes a little afraid to approach her but at the same time, i admire her for how woke and down to earth she is. A true queen 👑

@mae-gi-writes - Clover

mae strikes me as someone who is very driven and ethusiastic! the vibes that Clover has is the same so tbh this was a little of a no brainer HAHA its clean, catchy beat suits her aura as well! ⭐️

@aniyawoos - Shine Shine

when I listen to Shine Shine, I think of yu. It’s has this effortlessly sexc beat to it that also screams deep, velvety maturity that yu has as well! It’s a beat that really makes me feel really powerful and when I think of powerful and dynamic, yu comes into mind hence the pairing 💗

@badwithten - Stupid Sorry

stupid sorry is one of my favourite tbz songs EVER >< I paired zoe with stupid sorry because of how seemingly unassuming but inexplicably meaningful and cute the track is which is the impression I have of her as well 💞

@lovely-kpop-writer - DDD

crazy yet fun and so full of liveliness... That’s Jasmine! I listen to DDD whenever I wanna feel hyped and that’s why I think my brain subconsciously links jasmine to ddd because talking to jasmine even if it’s just over asks is extremely invigorating ❤️

@tidalstorm - Scar

scar is SUCH AN INTENSE AND HOT SONG OMFG it’s got this sexc dark vibe that I feel like always associate with amal as well >< Amal and Scar has this really dominant aura to them and I’m like if scar as a song was a person, Amal and Scar can kick me in the gut and I’d thank them ( too weird? I’m sorry but it’s the best way I can put it lol ) 👀

@blushwoo - The Stealer

honestly, this song is so sexc yet so cute at the same time imo like the concept?? but with that theme?? bruhh talk about a paradox lol tbh anie gives me that very same feeling! like before I got to know her, I thought she was just this really soft, cute mutual but when I really started talking to her, she’s actually surprisingly intense in a good way 😳

@jacobies - Boy

boy is just such a classic yet sensational song and to me, it forever represents the og. dani seems that way to me and honestly in a way even though we’ve never actually talked, I feel like her blog is one of those that laid a foundation to deobi tumblr and she has really brought so many deobis tgt with her deobiccbattle among other things. I look up to her a lot 💕

@aethalen - Reveal

ailea just seems so classy and out of league sometimes! I paired her with Reveal because of the mature and sophisticated vibe that the both of them simply exude... tbh talking to ailea ( on that one occasion lmao can we talk more >< ) I felt like was talking to an idol 🖤

@ukiyoexo - Insanity

i feel like i didn’t think i would pair emma with insanity but honestly, i feel like it’s kinda fitting! emma gives off a very edgy, badass vibe which made me really inclined to pair her with ego at first but after thinking it through, i think insanity’s unique beat suits her more? it’s not as intense as say ego or scar but it still has that very strong, powerful vibe to it 💫

@2hyunjae - Salty

salty is such a classic song and also one of my favs XD it’s just like luna - soft yet fun, intimidating yet so gentle... it’s a song that really grows on you and you feel warm listening to it just like how I feel warmth in my own heart when I see her posts on my dash 💘

@uwu0clock - Wings

we don’t really talk a lot but idk why when I thought of L, I think of Wings! Seeing her on my dash feels very familiar and whenever we do talk, I enjoy all of our conversations ^^ there’s something about them that is so wholesome, just like the vibes from Wings 💓

@fairyoftbz - Break your rules

I’ve never actually had a real conversation with soph but she’s always a joy to see in the collab discord chat ^^ her presence is subtle but it sure is calming and from what I know, she seems like a pretty chill and friendly mutual! 🧡

@jyeonvoir - Goodbye

elsie I’ve said before gives me regal, royalty vibes like that of a queen. I know you probably don’t expect me to pair you with Goodbye but hear me out lol that song is just so iconic?? the smooth ballad instantly makes me feel so comforted whenever I listen to it and it’s the exact same way when I’m interacting with elsie. Ily tumblr big sis 💖

@minfuwa - No Air

no air has such senpai vibes, don’t @ me for this HAHA I haven’t really talked to fuwa much lately but I still see her around and it strangely feels like you know how you watch animes and the protagonist girl is always so shy around the senpai? Yeah that’s kind of me at fuwa and I think it’s because she has this regal vibe to her like elsie and that since no air is such a masterpiece like all her works... this pairing goes without saying 😋

@fluffytbz - Daydream

just like daydream, rosie is an absolute dream as well lmao ( too corny? Sorry I’ll stop ) but fr tho... although we haven’t talked in awhile, I always remembered how lovely and friendly she was to me when we first started talking and when I thought of daydream, I thought of her too because of its sweet melody 💝

@tbzwurld - 4Ever

I think I’ve mentioned that I’ve felt intimidated by bee before >< but I feel like when I got to know her for a bit, she’s actually rly friendly yet there’s a certain fiery spark in her that I’m getting for some reasons? Like 4Ever, it has a very casual beat to it but there’s a little oomph to it that you can’t put your finger on but know it’s there 😉

@sunwuism - Right here

I haven’t actually had a full conversation with neha yet but she just seems so sweet and lovely! Right here is a song I associate those terms with so it felt natural to pair her with it 💛

@todeobi - Water

water is one of those songs that has a pretty sweet, endearing feel to it like the vibes that gus gives me and from my conversation with her, she seems super nice to talk to and just hang around! she’s so awkwardly cute that i just wanna hug her sometimes HAHA ❣️

[alisonembers]

Cogs and Queens (D&D Eberron Fan Fic) - Week 1 - Now also submitted for royalroad.com

Content Warning: Blood, Course Language, Violence, Intentional misgendering of character from antagonists, represented in a bad light.

Picture used is from: https://www.artstation.com/artwork/1QY6e (If artist requires me to remove the picture, I will do on request. I hope using it as visual stimuli for those who need it is okay.)

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

Cogs and Queens - Part One

Mercury sat at a round table in the Cogs and Queens tavern in the lower city. They taste the air with a parched mouth, having just escaped another firefight with the Sharn Watch.

Riiiiiip. Mercury sighs, holding their left arm with a newly torn bandage. Bastards got me. Two years they’ve been hunting me down, and in all that time, they only just got me. Pathetic.

“Oi! Can I get ya a fuckin’ ale or what? It’s a fuckin taproom, not a restin’ room. Order or leave!” the hobgoblin bartender says.

“Look, I’ll fuckin’ drink anythin’, long as it’s under a silver,” Mercury reaches into their thigh-bag, and places the coin on the table, leaning back. Ya got shot. Good fuckin’ job, Mercury. They pull the bandage tight, wincing.

The hobgoblin walks over holding a tankard of a strange purple mix. “Here’s ya drink,” he slams it on the table, takes the silver coin, and walks off.

Mercury reaches for the bullet on the table that was recently lodged in their arm. A souvenir. How lovely. “So, what’s new in the world? Any new rumors?”

“Yeah, fuckin’ rumors all right. Apparently, some rich head up in the top layers of the city thinks lizardfolk should be slaves and started a lizard camp a day out from the city. True or not, somethin’ strange is happenin’ out there cause my delivery men see guards headed that way all the time.”

“Sounds interesting. Might be worth to fuck over. Free some folk.”

“Yeah, cause you’re such a do-gooder. Don’t lie Merc, you’ve been comin’ ‘ere for the past year, treatin’ my waterhole as a damn safehouse. You pick on people, no matter if they’re good, or if they’re evil. All that matters to you is the fame of being a wanted criminal, and the right to brag in front of others in your field. I know men like you. You all share the same stupidity.”

“Well, good thing I’m not a man.”

“Speakin’ off, what are you anyway? I can’t pin ya for a woman.”

“I’m just me, Hektar. Nothin’ more to it. I’m just Mercury.”

“Sure,” the hobgoblin rubs the glass he’s holding clean, squeaking all the way across the room.

“But seriously, Hek. Thanks for not kickin’ me out. Even if it means I have to pay to be here.”

“Don’t all taprooms require you to pay before you stay? It’s rule number one, Merc.”

“No shit,” Mercury chuckles. “You know what I mean.”

“Yeah.”

Mercury pulls a small green gem out of their pocket, placing it on the table. A few moments go by, and a guitar materializes where the gem once was. They begin plucking the chords. E, G, B, e, B, G, E - E, G, B, e, B, G, E. (guitar tabs)

The door kicks in as six guards storm the tavern. “Is she here!?” the head guard demands, looking at the bartender.

The bartender smirks at them. “This Tavern of mine currently has no female guests. Trust me, I think I’d know.”

Mercury leans back in their chair, continuing to play their song. “So close no matter how far, couldn’t be much more from the heart.”

One of the guards scans the room and pulls on the shoulder of the one beside him. “There’s the girl.”

“Forever trusting who we are, and nothing else matters.”

“Oi!” the guards shout. “Stop playin’ that shit, or we’ll tear your tongue out.”

“Never opened myself this way, life is ours we live it our way.”

The captain walks closer, resting his hand on his rapier. “I said, quiet wench!”

“All these words, I don’t just say… And nothing else matters.” Mercury sighs, taking their hand from the strings and gripping their six-cylinder on their hip. They watch them approach closer.

“Oi! I thought you said you weren’t harborin’ any women in your tavern!” the guard at the bar says.

Mercury giggles to themselves. “He’s not.”

The first guard unsheathes his rapier, the second one going for his sidearm. The four towards the tavern bar begin drawing their weapons, swords, and daggers to prevent Mercury from escaping. None fast enough for Mercury.

Crack. The first bullet left Mercury’s chamber, leaving the man dead.

Crack. The second who’d bear witness to the deaths while he bled.

Crack. No man was as fast to stop the small, beautifully handsome fiend.

Crack. For their hand was quick, their fingers quicker, none could intervene.

As the fifth one takes his shot, Mercury takes a step brave.

Crack. None would be the one who put them at the bottom of a grave.

Crack. The sixth held his throat, and Merc looked into his eyes.

For they knew the poor guardsmen was only taking what jobs would arise.

“From where you’re sittin’, must feel like today was shit luck,” Mercury says, holding the last man dying. “Truth be told, ya took the job knowing what might happen. I’m fairly sure when I go to hell, I’ll see you there.”

Ears ringing, table flying, I’m flying. The wall, it’s no longer there.

Mercury lands in front of the bar, propelled across the room by an explosion. What? Who just. Where’s six. Mercury reaches for their sidearm with their left arm, only they can’t reach it. What. Where’s? No. They look across the room, seeing their left arm blown clean off with their revolver still in grip. Mercury tries to hoist themselves up with the aid of their tail, falling forward onto their knees. I can’t. I’m gonna. No!

A man with a long mustache looks down at Mercury. “What luck. Wasn’t expectin’ to see little pink down here,” he looks across the room, blood reaching from their dismembered arm to themselves. “I guess from now on, they’ll call you little pink mist,” he brushes his mustache smiling. “Take it all, boys! Leave no coin untouched. Scavenge the guards, but leave pinky alone. They’ve had a rough day. We don’t want it to get rougher!” he laughs. “Imagine all the things you can’t do with a missing arm.”

   The world went black.

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

For those who read this, I humbly accept feedback. I also humbly accept being educated on any mistakes I made in representing characters, and how I could do it better.

[hopelessromanticspoonie]

Helping Hands - Chapter 6

Series Masterlist here

Chapter Summary: Haley experiences New York City for the first time, and the contents of the champagne are revealed.

Chapter Warnings: References of past abuse.

A/N: Thank you all for being patient with me! Work has honestly kicked my ass these past few weeks, but I’m getting back into it, and hopefully my body will be kinder to me in the future.

“Your cheeseburger with french fries, and pancakes and bacon for you. Can I get you anything else?”

Haley was too busy ogling the food in front of her to answer, inhaling the sweet and savory aroma of fried goodness that made her mouth water at the deliciousness it promised. Loki must have said something in response while she was lost in the grumbling of her stomach, because the waitress walked away.

“Does it look satisfactory?” Loki asked quietly, drawing her attention from the golden fries in front of her to his face. “If it isn’t to your liking, you can order something else.”

She shifted on the squeaky faded plastic seat of their booth to lean forward over the table, gripping the massive burger in her hands. Could her jaw even open wide enough for that? With a bit of careful maneuvering, it could. It took everything in her not to moan at the dance of salt and fat and crisp fresh vegetables over her tongue. Not wanting to waste a moment, she took a bite of a fry as soon as she swallowed the first, giving Loki a thumbs up and the best smile she could muster while chewing.

When Loki had caught her staring longingly out the windows earlier that day, he had declared that he was taking her out to see the city. She had been cooped up for far too long and would be safe with him as an escort. It took some convincing, Haley and Tony both were on edge after the nearly-successful attack at the party a few nights prior, but the call to the city was too plain on her face. Tony relented, but not before implanting a tracker the size of a grain of rice into her bicep. It stung a bit, but sitting in a booth in a diner with Loki, smelling cooking oil and burnt coffee and watching people go about their busy day so close up, she decided it was worth it.

And then the pancakes. Drenched in sticky sweet syrup and fed to her from Loki’s fork and paired with greasy bacon, she was grateful for his stubborn insistence. It was nice, to feel normal, just enjoying lunch out with a friend. There was a first for everything, and this wouldn’t be the last.

“What else would you like to experience, little one?” Loki slipped Haley’s hand into the crook of his elbow once they were finished and he had paid, sticking close to the exterior of the building so as not to get in the way of passing pedestrians.

But their positioning seemed unnecessary given the wide circle of personal space left untouched around them. Those that took a moment to look at the imposing man dressed in all black to match his hair, which was pulled back to better emphasize the razor’s edge of his jawline and cheekbones, quickly skirted around the pair. She watched them curiously for a second, puzzled at the frightened, nervous, and in one case, downright angry looks he garnered. He’d been nothing but kind and protective of her since they’d met. What had he done before then?

A faint breeze blew through from the alley to their left and she crinkled her nose at the foul odor of rotting garbage. “Maybe somewhere nicer smelling?”

He chuckled low in his throat and turned them down the street, leading her along at a slow, leisurely pace that allowed her plenty of time to take in all that New York City had to offer. “I know just the place.”

The sun was warm on her skin as she and Loki stood in the middle of a vast green park - Central Park, Loki had informed her - watching ducks paddle about happily in a pond. The breeze, scented with flowers and dry earth, ruffled the unruly pieces of hair sticking up from her head. She leaned into Loki’s side from her place on his arm. The physical contact sated a deep-seated ache in her bones she hadn’t known existed. It was a luxury that had been denied her for most of her life, and she was keen on making up for lost time. She’d never thought that she would have such an opportunity. To just exist in a moment of calm with someone who she truly cared about and who held the same feelings for her.

“Would you like to feed them?” Loki’s quiet request broke her from her reverie.

“We can do that?” she asked, a tinge of hope liting her voice. She bounced on her toes with a smile stretching from ear to ear, all directed his smug grin.

“It pays to be prepared for all possibilities.” He held out his hand in front of them, close to their bodies, and a small container of oats appeared in his palm. “Go on, then.”

Happiness bubbled up within her and she grabbed the oats from his outstretched hand to run down to the bank. The only thing that kept her from tumbling into the water was Loki’s firm hold on her waist, steadying her as she leaned out as far as she could to toss the food into the water. The ducks flocked to the space in front of her to quack loudly for more treats. Once the supply was finished she turned in Loki’s hands to ask him for more, stopping when she caught the fondness that had softened his gaze considerably.

It tugged at her heart in ways she hadn’t experienced before. Butterflies fluttered low in her tummy and warmth spread throughout her limbs to the drum of her heartbeat that echoed in her ears. The sunlight caught his hair as it tumbled over his shoulders to reveal pieces that appeared almost blue at the tilt of his head. Hesitantly, she reached up, brushing a stray lock back that had fallen over one of his eyes to hide the brilliant green from her searching gaze. He remained still as the statue that he resembled beneath her hand, the taut muscles of his torso unyielding to her grounding touch.

“You’re beautiful,” she whispered, the thought somehow slipping through the filters in her brain, as if the knowledge was so true in her soul it couldn’t be helped.

Loki stiffened and looked out at the pond over her shoulder with his lips pressed tightly together. “I am not.”

She reached up with the hand not centered on his chest, cupping his jaw to guide his eyes back down to her. Written in the draw of his brows and the set of his jaw was such a bare vulnerability that panged in her aching heart. “You are. The inside of you, the good and kind man, alien, whatever. It shines through. You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.”

“That list is not the lengthiest,” he countered.

She shifted her grasp from his jaw to the ends of his hair, tugging just enough that it coaxed a smile onto his face. “Hush and accept the compliment.”

Loki carefully pulled her flush against him with the wrap of his arms around her waist and shoulders to splay the fingers of one hand in her hair. She curled into him, tucked beneath his chin, closing her eyes against the press of his smooth shirt into her cheek. It was easy to lose herself in the rhythmic breaths that pushed his chest against her. If allowed, she’d spend forever in his comforting hold, scented with spice and warmth and something uniquely Loki that she couldn’t name but would be able to identify anywhere. It didn’t quiet the rolling energy in her tummy, if anything it made it louder, but she found that the rub of her fingers over his back was a suitable outlet for it.

And then, just when she pulled away to look up to him, someone barrelled into them, knocking her from his hold. Pain flashed on her side where she'd been hit, but thankfully Loki's fast reflexes kept them both from tumbling into the water.

"Watch where you tread, simpleton!" Loki shouted even as he carefully righted her and checked her dirtied knees for injury.

The man just waved at the headphones in his ears, as if that voided any use of sight he had, before running away.

"Wait here," he instructed, smoothing a hand down her arm even as he glared at their attacker. "I must have a word with him."

She quickly snagged his hand and laced their fingers together, stopping his wrathful strides before they could begin. "I'm okay. It was an accident. Let's go for a walk before we head back?"

It was a long walk back to Stark Tower, especially with a stop for ice cream, but she was happily licking away at the cone Loki had purchased for her when they stepped into the blissfully air-conditioned lobby. She was taking care of a drip that had rolled down her thumb when Loki cleared his throat, pulling her attention from the melting sweet treat to Tony standing in front of them.

“We figured out what was in the booze.”

By the time they had all hurried up to his lab, her appetite had vanished. She dumped the half-eaten cone in the trash as she and Loki followed Tony through his maze of whirring machines and flashing gadgets to his office located through a door at the back of the room. This office was clearly not shown to guests, each flat surface covered in paperwork, bits of machinery in disrepair, and quite a few books littered with colorful tabs among their many pages. He pushed a good deal of it to the side of his desk with a forced exhale through his nose, turning around the monitor of his computer so that it faced where they stood in front of him.

What resembled a swirling ladder spun in front of the screen, as well as quite a few graphs and a scattering of scanned handwritten notes. “So, what were they trying to do?”

Tony pulled his yellow-tinted glasses from his face, chewing on the earpiece for a moment before crossing his arms over his chest. “Your body has a very high level of platelets, white blood cells, and a certain protein all to help you heal the wounds that you take on. That’s also the reason why you rarely ever get sick, correct?”

Intimidated by the show of knowledge, Haley nodded silently. She could count on one hand the number of times she’d been sick, and all had happened when she was recovering from healing a particularly gruesome and intensive wound.

“We added what we found in the champagne to the sample of blood you gave us, and it rapidly killed off the majority of the extra good bits inside of you.”

“How rapidly?” Loki asked, stern at her side, glaring at the screen as if he understood the readings and wanted nothing more than to wipe them from existence.

Tony sniffed and shook his head back and forth. “From our tests, it looks to be dependent on the dosage of the serum we found. Anywhere from one day to several weeks, judging by our readings and the data FRIDAY ran.”

Try as she might, she couldn’t fully grasp what they were saying, and the effort of remaining standing while trying to put together the pieces of the puzzle that the two brilliant men already had was too great. She sank into the wrapper covered chair in front of her, smoothing her sweaty hands down her thighs. “I don’t understand.”

Tony knelt down in front of her to meet her eyes that had fallen to the floor. “You wouldn’t have superhuman healing abilities anymore. As long as you didn’t get sick, you wouldn’t even know that anything was different until you tried to heal someone and took longer than normal to stitch yourself back together. And if that injury was something like what happened to Nat the other day?”

Two hands, heavy and strong and large, settled on her shoulders to match the weight that threatened to crush her chest. “She would die,” Loki growled.

“She would die.”

~

Little Bit o’ Loki taglist: @myownviperroom @grahoundart @darealbellabelleoftheball @boubouinscarlet @iamverity @rt8815 @lots-of-loki @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @ms-cellanies @rosierossette @thathedonistgirl @lokixme @hellethil @myraiswack

Helping Hands taglist: @kneel-before-queen-loki @alexakeyloveloki @from-hel-i-with-love @cleocc @cateyes315 @coldbookworm @rjohnson1280 @bambi-butt @skiddleskaddle @lokis-high-priestess @ilovetardis @midgardian-mistress @lisaspageofstuff @kathrynwynterbourne @bluestaratsunrise

Whole Shebang taglist: @just-the-hiddles @yespolkadotkitty @nonsensicalobsessions @vodka-and-some-sass @he-is-chaotic-she-is-psychotic @myoxisbroken @brokenthelovely @myworddump @polireader @wiczer @littleredstarfish @the-broken-angel-13 @arch-venus25 @xxloki81xx @jessiejunebug @tinchentitri @sllooney @devilbat @vikkleinpaul @bouquet-o-undercaffeinated-roses @angelus80 @wolfsmom1 @kthemarsian @toozmanykids @claritastantrum @princerowanwhitethorngalathynius @sabine-leo @lovesmesomehiddles @peterman-spideyparker @wegingerangelica​ @bluefrenchfries604 @catsladen @snoopy3000​ @silverswordthekilljoy​ @villainousshakespeare​

[snapdragonquest]

Library Date

Cygnus and Sagitta hold hands while studying. Because I am weak and crave that sweet content.

@thankourluckystars

The grand library was almost always empty, silent and devoid of sound, other than the odd rustle of turning pages, and the distant padding of footprints. The deep, musky smell of old books wafted through the air like a heavy cloud. Coffee and parchment, the smell of fresh ink. From a few open windows, a light spring breeze drifted in, bringing with it the fresh scent of honeysuckle and pollen. Warm morning sunlight danced across the room with a soft golden hue, and flecks of dust sparkled in the beams. It lit up the wooden flooring, between the dark shadows of the towering bookcases.

Sagitta had always been deeply fond of the atmosphere here. Quiet, cosy, and rich with history. Ancient and undisturbed. Wide open spaces and yet still so snug. The ornate stone pillars and the carved wooden shelves sang of the stories they held, promises of infinite knowledge, to those with the patience to read them.

As the clouds passed by, her head remained ducked in a large, brown stained book, fingers tracing the rugged edges of the paper as she neared the end of her page. Even with the window by her right, table pressed up to the glass, the vast expanse of sky rolling forever beneath her, she did not spare it a glance. Simply content to feel the cool air as it brushed across her cheek.

Untouched scrolls had been splayed out in front of her, along with other selections of books that she planned to skim over later. She wasn’t close to finishing her first chapter yet, but it was nice to have them there anyway. If anything, it would appear to others like she had finished them all before noon, and she liked the smell of the parchment anyway.

So engrossed in the contents of her history book, she didn’t even notice Cygnus’s approach until she had pulled out the adjacent chair out and sat down, sinking into her seat rather heavily. Sagitta turned her head, mouth open to offer their regular greeting, reaching into her bag to pass over the breakfast she knew her friend had neglected to eat that morning. But as she did, Sagitta found herself rather taken aback. Cygnus’s expression was all dishevelled, her eyes were wide with nerves, wings ruffled up, and her face was lit up with a ruddy colour.

“What could have happened so early in the morning to have you like this? You can’t have been awake more than an hour.” She asked, nudging a few slices of cinnamon nut cake towards her, and drumming her fingers on the open page. It wasn’t uncommon to find her like this, all flustered and agitated, her worried thoughts tangling together into a bird’s nest of scenarios before anything bad had even remotely happened. Be it stressing about her work, or tardiness, or being unprepared for something she hadn’t been assigned yet, or even just her appearance, she was superbly skilled at worrying about it. Sagitta really couldn’t understand how her mind worked. Cygnus was one of the most hardworking Celestrians she had ever met, and if anything, she was overprepared in everything she did.

“I’ve done something terrible.” Cygnus whispered back, voice wavering with urgency, and brows furrowed tight. Hands trembling, she reached into her bag, placing her own books across the table. The way she acted seemed significantly more unorganised than her usual manor, and Sagitta tucked the red bookmark string over her current page before flipping it closed.

As Cygnus stumbled over her notebooks and folders, laying them haphazardly and arranging them in careless piles, Sagitta gave her an inquisitive look. “I highly doubt that.”

“I lied to my teacher.”

Her voice was so hushed, it took Sagitta a few moments to process the words. But when she finally did, the realsiation hit her so unexpectedly that she was nearly alarmed.

“Oh.” She replied in a flat sort of tone, too surprised to give offer any sort of proper answer. No wonder Cygnus looked so fearful; Aquila was not the sort of teacher to be messed with. She could easily admit, he even made her a little nervous. “What did you say to him?”

She chewed her lip, brushing a loose strand of hair behind one ear and looking down at the table. “I told him we were studying together.”

“That’s…” Sagitta paused, the worry immediately vanishing from her and quickly turning into perplexity. She gave Cygnus a look, mouth turned up. “That’s not a lie. We are studying together.”

“Yes but it’s not the whole truth either!” She whispered back in a frantic tone, reorganising her books again to stack the smaller ones upon the largest, and shuffling her loose paper notes. “We’re… you know. He asked what we were doing together. I got so nervous I couldn’t get the right words out. And it feels like lying all the same, even if I didn’t say anything wrong. I’m just so stressed about it. He’ll be so, so angry when he finds out.” She ran her fingers through her hair, mussing it up, and then spent the next few moments trying to neaten it up again.

Sagitta shook her head, exasperated. The library was supposed to be her calm, safe space, where she could spend her time studying in peace. And while Cygnus was usually such a good reading partner, the two of them working together through difficult paragraphs and keeping each other company when the boredom began to sink in, she had quite the ability to get in a tizzy.

“He won’t.” She said firmly, voice low and impassive. And while she reopened her book, out of the corner of her eye, she watched the other apprentice reorganise hers again.

“I just can’t stop thinking about whats he’s going to say. I’ve never kept anything from him before.” Suddenly she jolted upright in alarm and tucked her hands into her lap, fidgeting with the tassels of her skirt. “I bet he already knows.” Her voice was quiet, and yet somehow laced with enough panic to feel it buzz off of her in waves. “He probably knew I was lying and he’s going to drop me as his student. Or he’s going to tell Apus Major. I think I might have to run away and spend my life as a sheep herder on the nomadic plains–”

“Cygnus, hush.” She slammed her book together with enough force to make the other girl jump, but gentle enough to keep the sound dimmed. This was still a library after all. Startled into silence, Cygnus ducked her shoulders, and glanced back at her sheepishly.

“Sorry.”

“You worry too much.” Sagitta said, and picked up a dry quill off the desk to flick her on the head with. She handed it back to Cygnus, who placed it in an orderly line with her others. “You haven’t done a single thing wrong, stop panicking. Besides, have we actually done anything other than work when we’re together?”

“Well… I suppose not.” She admitted, the tension visibly ebbing away.

“There you go. You didn’t lie.”

“But–” She started, and Sagitta picked up the quill again in warning, giving her another look. Cygnus huffed, but smiled a little anyway, finally leaving the arrangement as it was and picking a single book to read. A study of weapon forging; relatively new, if the bright cover was any indication. “I’m not just here because I like studying. Though I do, I do like studying.” She nodded earnestly, and Sagitta found herself holding back a snigger. “But, I also like spending time with you.”

Her face immediately lit up with a slight dusting of pink, and her mottled grey and white wings shifted a little, becoming more comfortable over the back of the chair. She must have been blessed with her namesakes’ feathers, Sagitta thought. While pristinely groomed, the dark, fluffy fledgling colours still clung across them like a young swan, making her look like a mosaic.

Sagitta couldn’t help but tsk at her reaction, and despite herself, she felt a faint smile tug at the corners of her lips, heat rising up to her cheeks as well. She scooted her chair in a little more to the table, fingertips subconsciously brushing against the beauty spot by her mouth.

Opening back up to a previous page, using the decorated bookmark to keep tabs on which line she was reading, Cygnus mumbled, “I know we haven’t done anything different than usual, but I still feel so... scandalous.”

“Scandalous!” Sagitta barked out a laugh, before hastily glancing away, aware of how loud that had been. But still, as she looked back at Cygnus’s expression; rose hued and suddenly abashed, a wide grin spread across her face. “You haven’t even held my hand yet.”

Cygnus opened up her mouth to reply, almost mortified, spluttering on words and growing redder by the second. A few moments passed before she finally found her voice, but only managed to stumble out a few syllables before hiding away in her book, avoiding Sagitta’s eye. Her wings fluffed up as she hunched over the table, and Sagitta watched with a sense of amusement, waiting patiently. On cue, her posture slowly, habitually straightened up, and her face loosened up from its scrunched-up expression. Surely that position was uncomfortable, always rigid backed and held up tall, but truthfully, a lot of things Cygnus did eluded her.

That was what made her so charming.

As the other girl began furiously writing in her notebooks, her quill working against the paper in a familiar, scratching rhythm, Sagitta let herself return to her own book, reading over the long, droning paragraphs until she found herself caught in its flow. The sound of Cygnus’s writing and the crinkle of pages was enough of a comforting sound to let her really study. Before long, she found that she was on the last page, and with a blooming of pride in her chest, went to pick out another book.

Cygnus, as always, hadn’t really understood the idea of taking notes, and appeared to have written down more information than was even expressed in the text. Pages upon pages of tidy, elegant letters lay before her, underlined and titled, and Sagitta didn’t know how she was possibly supposed to remember it all. Was she even supposed to remember it all? She doubted it. When could she ever require this information in her guardianship?

The sun passed by, the rays of light drifting their way across the room, and Sagitta poked the nut cake with her elbow to remind Cygnus to actually eat it. Incredibly, she actually stopped writing, pausing to look down at the food. Sagitta could practically hear the gears turning in her head, and watched as she began to gnaw on her lip again.

She took a deep breath, placing down her quill.

“Would you like to?”

It was more of a squeak than a whisper, and when Sagitta looked over at her, her face exploded in red, right up to the tips of her ears.

“Hm?” She asked, raising one brow.

Cygnus cleared her throat, and it almost seemed like her halo glowed brighter, heat radiating off of her as she brushed her fringe out of her eyes. “Would you like to hold hands?” She whispered.

Sagitta blinked, and her thoughts stuttered to a stop, clouding over with a mixture of sudden adoration and blind panic until the only sounds that came out of her mouth were, “It will be a struggle to write notes with my left hand.”

Cygnus nodded stiffly, hair tumbling across her face in long waves of colour, and her expression tightened. Mouth pulling into a thin line. “Right, right, of course. Sorry.”

That wasn’t what she meant to say. That wasn’t what she meant to say at all. What did she mean to say? She didn’t quite know, her stomach twisting suddenly with butterflies as her heart started to pound a little harder. Cygnus looked genuinely crushed, hiding her face in her books as she ducked back over, not even remembering to pick up her quill.

As she tried to fix her muddled brain back into working order, Sagitta decided it would be best to shut her mouth for now. Instead, with one hand, she reached out and took Cygnus’s in hers.

To her credit, the other Celestrian didn’t jump too abruptly, only a little bit, freezing solid for a good few seconds before eventually melting into her hold. Her fingers gingerly moved to interlace with her own, and Sagitta couldn’t help but marvel at how warm she was, how rough her skin was already from handling her sword.

Aquila trained her hard, and it showed in the calloused edges. She should feel envious about that, Rigel was so relaxed with his methods, some days she wanted to scream with boredom. Her training never pushed her too far, never left her tired or worn out in the evening. Cygnus would work herself down to the bone, until she was nodding off during their evening study sessions. Already the improvements were visible.

She felt a light squeeze to her hand.

She did not feel envious.

Cygnus peeked out from behind the ribbons of her hair, her eyes wide and glimmering with light. She quickly looked around, checking if anyone had seen them. Of course, hidden away as they were between the bookshelves, not a soul remained there to bother them, and her face lit up in an expression Sagitta could only describe as giddy. Her eyes crinkling up with the size of her grin.

As their hands began to rest underneath the table, swinging loosely between the two of them, Sagitta wondered if her face looked equally as flustered. It certainly felt a lot hotter, though that could have been the afternoon sun. It gleamed off Cygnus’s hair like solid gold, her own personal sunbeam, and yet she was looking back up at Sagitta like she was the moon and the stars.

She squeezed Cygnus’s hand back, reminding her to get back to work, and it took another, tighter one to pull her out of her daze. Her shoulders flinched, grinning sheepishly as she finally drew her gaze away, and went to pick up her quill.

Just as she reached it, she paused, fingers twitching, before reaching for her breakfast and taking a bite.

Sagitta beamed. Clearly she liked it, if the way her face lit up was any indication, and she gave Sagitta’s hand another squeeze in appreciation. A loose crumb stuck to her face, clinging to the side of her cheek, and she wrinkled up her nose trying to lick it off. But with one hand keeping her page open, and the other one occupied, she couldn’t reach it.

The dilemma obviously troubled her. She looked back at each hand, and scrunched up her lip, deciding whether it was worth leaving it alone, poking her tongue out one side. With her free hand, Sagitta reached over and brushed it off her face with one thumb. While Cygnus was still reeling, somehow turning even redder, eyes growing wider, she tapped the paper in front of her.

“Keep working. Or Aquila really will start to get suspicious.”

It was a complete lie. Cygnus had already done enough work to last the entire day, but if Sagitta was being honest, if she looked up at her like that for any longer, she was going to melt completely. It was only fair that she fluster a bit too. Besides, the quiet Eep that escaped her partner as she jumped and buried herself back in her books was more than worth it.

Sagitta sighed quietly, turning back to her own work. The words were tiny, and the paragraphs drowned out each page in solid blocks of text, but it didn’t really seam to matter. She did always study better when Cygnus was scrawling away next to her, and the feeling of her fingers tangled with hers kept her mind focused.

She squeezed her hand again, and smiled as she turned a page.

The sun meandered its way across the sky, leaving prickles of warmth across her face, and Sagitta’s little sunbeam squeezed her hand back.

[instakpop]

Chanyeol scenario - Lessons in love

Requested by anon

Genre: mafia!au, angst, smut, little bits of fluffiness

Warnings: stalking, rough sex, strong language

There’s nothing more tragic than love running out. You pour your heart and soul into a relationship only to feel neglected one year into it. You were hypnotized by his smile, swindled by his charms, then broken by his passive behavior.

You met Chanyeol purely by chance. Working in a bank doesn’t sound very exciting,  but your job brought you to the same level as some of the most powerful people in the country. Who’s your biggest client? Park Chanyeol, mafia boss. The man who was practically untouchable. He’d have a whole number of charges against him, but even the best lawyers in the business couldn’t take him down.

One day you came into work and caught his eye. He courted you with flowers and jewels until you gave in to his advances. In the beginning, he was the kind of boyfriend every woman dreams of. Great listener, gentle, an all-around romantic. But, sadly, that romance didn’t even last six months.

After a while, Chanyeol because cynical and mean. In public, you and Chanyeol would arrive at events together lovingly only to be separated when one of his “associates” came to steal his attention away from you. You would have left months ago if it weren’t for everything you invested into the relationship. He took you on long vacations, causing you canceled plans with friends all the time to be with him. You’ve even taken a sabbatical from work to spend time with him. Now, just having a weekend alone with him is a blessing. Meals for two were left uneaten, reservations at hotels that fell through, and a one year anniversary that was forgotten about.

Sex was no different. He would crawl into bed late at night and stay awake long enough to get his rocks off. It didn’t matter if he was pleasing you, he only cared about himself.

Which brings you to today. Chanyeol has been gone for three days straight, leaving you in his enormous house like an abandoned puppy. But enough is enough. You’ve decided once and for all the Chanyeol just isn’t the man you thought he was. You packed your things and checked into a hotel until you find an apartment.

It broke your heart to watch your relationship crumble like that, but you’re not the one to blame. Chanyeol became arrogant and plain rude. The answer to every question about where he was going was “don’t worry about it.” It’s time for you to get back to who you were before. You returned to work as if nothing happened and finally found a great place to live. Over time, you blocked out the thoughts of the man who broke your heart. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the man who swept you off your feet. You missed the Chanyeol who texted you sweet messages while he was at work and held you close late at night. The Chanyeol who made you feel safe and adored.

As the days turned into weeks, you regressed into your usual pattern. Wake up, stop for breakfast, go to work, swing by the gym for a quick workout, and head back home.  But one day you noticed something. Something strange. All day you could feel someone’s eyes on you. Everywhere you went, you were able to catch a glimpse of a man in a designer suit who was never more than 20 feet away.

You weren’t certain if he was following you, but you had to find out. On your way to the gym, you took the long route, trying to see if anyone was pursuing you. After a few minutes, you spotted a red Cadilac that was taking the same turns you were. You pulled over onto a side road and stepped out of your car. You mentally prepared yourself for the worst as you grabbed your emergency pepper spray. You walked down the alley and hid behind a corner. You heard footsteps coming closer until you heard a voice.

“I lost her. She went down the alley and disappeared.” He said.

You peeked out to see him on the phone. But who could he possibly be talking to? The man walked past you, unable to see where you were hiding. You stepped out from behind the corner, summoning up enough courage to raise your pepper spray and yell. “Who are you?!”

The man turned around in shock. He stammered over what to say, “I’m not a threat. I was just told by my boss to keep tabs on you.”

The thoughts started racing through your mind of who his boss could be. You had one idea, but you needed to know for sure. “And how long have you been keeping ‘tabs’ on me.”

“About three weeks.”

Chanyeol! He’s the only man in the world he had the power, authority, and motive to do something like this. You put your pepper spray back into your pocket and sighed.

“Take me to your boss. Now.” You demanded.

Your domineering tone was enough to turn the mafia soldier into a cowering dog. He quickly leads you to his car and took you to Chanyeol’s house. The second you arrived, you marched through the door, hot-tempered, and ready to fight. You passed by his personal staff, each of which was both confused and intimidated by your sudden presence.

“Oh, Miss y/n. So good to see y-” Chanyeol’s second in command asked.

“Where is he?” You asked.

“In the office.”

You headed upstairs with fury in your step. You burst through the doors and there he was, leaning back in his chair with his trademark poker-face.

“A spy?! Really?! What gives you the right to hire someone to watch me? And what was going to happen? Were you gonna just have him follow me forever? And what would happen if I met someone else, someone who isn’t a self-obsessed asshole who lies and deceives people? You are unbelievable!” The more you screamed, the better you felt. You weren’t able to tell him off when you left because, once again, he wasn’t around.

But instead of fighting back, or having you hauled off, Chanyeol just sat there, staring at you with a blank look. You ended your passionate speech and stood there, waiting for a response, but instead, silence filled the room. Chanyeol closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“Y/n, sit down.” He said with a calm voice.

You were a little suspicious of his demeanor, but you complied. You sat across from him and relaxed.

“You… are completely right. I was terrible to you. I didn’t call when I said I would. I stopped listening to you. I stopped tending to you, and I was wrong for that. But The reason I stopped doing those things is that you stayed so much longer than the others.” He said.

What he was saying didn’t make much sense, but you remain intrigued to hear his side of the story. “I’m not the guy that women want to spend forever with. I ask a girl out, she says yes and I spoil her rotten. Six months later, she’s gone. She goes her way and I go mine. All the gifts I give are returned, but her social status is set in stone. That’s all I am to them. They see the wealth and power and they use it to their advantage.”

He could hardly look me in the eye when he explained, but the words rang in your mind. “And then there was you. The girl who was already a staple in the mob world. I looked at you and the way you carried yourself and I thought, ‘now that’s a girl who can hold her own’. You already had status and power. I knew you were different, but I guess the romantic in me died one day. My love had an expiration date.”

“Chanyeol. Gifts are not the romantic part of dating. The thought behind them is. You knew I’ve always wanted to see Paris, so you took me there for my birthday. I told you I loved getting love notes so you send me texts throughout the day. You just stopped caring. You ignored me constantly, I’d even try to kiss you and you’d turn the other cheek. You didn’t think you’d be a good boyfriend, so you just gave up.”

Listening to what you had to say, Chanyeol started to understand what made you leave. He stood up from his chair and offered you his hand. “Let’s talk somewhere more private.” He said, knowing his men were right there on the other side of the door. He took me to his room down the hall, dismissing anyone who was in the area. He closed and locked the door behind you both and continued where you left off.

“Chanyeol… Why did you need to check up on me? I left you one last text saying it was over, but you still went out of your way to find out what I was up to.”

He thought to himself, trying to come up with a good answer but the truth prevailed. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you. When we were together, I’d leave for work, I knew you were at home waiting for me and then one day, you weren’t. I didn’t have the sense of security that you would always be there. I had one of my associates follow you because that’s the only way I felt close to you.”

“That’s just it. I’m only around when I feel like I should be. I fight for things worth fighting for and I didn’t feel needed anymore. I just assumed you fell out of love.”

Chanyeol was clearly pained by your words. “Y/n, I can’t fall out of something I never knew I had. You were the first woman I’ve been with who actually said you loved me. But I just don’t know how to love you back.”

“Yes, you do. Or at least you did. When you and I first met, you were genuine and attentive. Those first several months were proof that you have the capability. You just can’t follow through.” You explained.

He sat on the edge of his bed, smiling to himself, shaking his head. “You have me all figured out and yet I’m surprised by you every single day.”

You walked closer and stood in front of him. “You’re more predictable than you think. You can’t just love someone immediately, you have to fall in love with them.” You lifted his chin, brushed the hair away from his face and peered down into his warm brown eyes.

“Can you teach me?” He asked. He was slowly returning back to the man who stole your heart a year ago. The one who would lie awake at night with you,  placing soft kisses on your face. You cupped his cheeks and nodded, accepting his proposal.

“For starters, you’re very good at dominant, rough fucking. But you need to learn how to make love.” His eyes lit up as you spoke. “It’s about intimacy. You have to really know who you're climbing into bed with. Which is why I know you’ll fall to pieces… if I kiss you… right here.” Your lips pressed to his neck, just below his earlobe. Chanyeol sighed, relaxing his muscles. “See? You have to know exactly where to touch…” Your hands moved up his chest, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing the material out of the way. “And kiss…” Your lips continued down to his bare collar bones, leaving your mark on the sensitive skin.

“Your turn.” You straddled his hips, allowing his hands and lips to roam wherever.

His skilled hands had you both naked in seconds. He laid you out on the bed, kissing all over your chest. He pulled out his cock, stroking up and down your slit.

“Mmm~ Just like that, baby. Feel how wet I am for you. “ You purred.

Unable to take another minute of teasing, Chanyeol slid into you slowly, savoring your warm channel. You stretched around him, clinging to his strong back as he eased into you. Rather than pounding into you, Chanyeol glided in and out of you at the perfect pace. He held your leg up high, finding just the right angle to hit your g-spot with each thrust. He watched you arch beneath him and smirked. He knew just what to do to get you to your climax.

“C-Chanyeol. Baby, I’m so close.”

“Not yet. I want you to cum with me.” He thrusted a few more times until he arrived at the edge of his orgasm with you. Simotaniusly, you called out each others names in ecstasy. “Fuck, y/n! Oh, god. I love you...I love you so. Damn. much.”

After cooling down, Chanyeol’s confession still stuck with you, making the smile on your face widen. The romantic inside him was still alive and well. No matter how much he denies it, he’ll always have that part of him who is completely head over heels for you.

“So, does this mean you’ll come back?” He asked.

“Yes, but there are conditions.” You replied. “First, I’m not going to be some whithering housewife. I have a career and I’m not quitting anytime soon.”

“Agreed.” He said.

“Second, You really need to make an effort. I can’t keep leaving for you to realize that you want to be with me. I want to know that you love me as much as I love you.”

“...Agreed. I’m not losing you again. I had to pay my associate double to follow you around and he failed.”

You laughed and him and playfully slapped his chest. Chanyeol pulled you in close and ran his fingers through your hair gently, giving you a few kisses just like he did before. Only this time, his love didn’t have an expiration date.

THE END

[improvingtrainwreck]

timestamp 1:15 (although the whole video is so aesthetic and cinematic but) listen on another tab as you read this. If the url isn't working anymore the song is "Je te laisserai des mots"

I find it interesting that I still kinda consistently make life update posts on tumblr when most people stopped using tumblr in like 2013 or 2015. It feels a bit like being at peace in your cozy cottage by yourself and hearing everyone else(society) partying and socializing in the distance at the popular neighbors house. Basically talking into a void that isn't really a void, but just talking with no audience but it's so peaceful, feels kinda disconnected but in a not sad way. Idk I just hop that they never delete tumblr bc I really want this time capsule of my life to remain in tact, just as is and accessible for the people I love as a reflection of my life and who I am/ was at the time. A timestamp untouched first look, somewhat biography, of my life. And who am I? idk if I've said, perhaps if you've read my previous posts you'll know but Idr if I've said so. Any who, all in good time (and yes if this seems like a Dr Seuss rhyme, your rhyme identification is just fine. Can you tell I've been watching the new Green Eggs And Ham? haha). But this feels like ppl talking about their my space account they wish they still had access to in the new age of social media. Ya know? that feeling of nostalgia and just being taken back to the My Space days even though you didn't even have one? That's what this feels like. My place, my own little space, nook, in this big internet maze. And it really just does feel like I'm getting to experience My Space in the same way this site isn't popular anymore and hasn't been for years, and their new popular social medias are all in different fonts and layouts than this one the beloved first media love... They say nothing on the internet ever fully goes, so if my dear tumblr ever does start to glitch or become outdated in software(honestly hopefully not), my page will still be here forever, for anyone who'd love to have and to hold. Maybe my loved ones will hold dear. Or at least so I hope. I also hope that when my page is found, discovered or if I finally introduce it to a loved one, that if I didn't get the chance to tell my story, that it gets told. I hope isn't misinterpreted and is graciously and creatively told with just as much depth and laced with the beauty of emotions and love just as I am. I hope it is told by someone who pays attention to details and who can or tries their best in every work of art to portray the story the best they can or the best way it can be told. Using theatrics like lighting for mood, showing different outcomes for what something I said or did could've meant, fitting music, flashbacks, dream thoughts solidified and shown in a scene and techniques like that. Experimentative but not too much and classic using the simplicities of some of the film greats techniques. And most of all I want whoever those people delicately attempting to tell my story, enjoy it and just have fun exploring the different eras, adventures and the total rollercoaster but overall complex astronomical beauty of it all. Lastly I hope it let's people a bit neurodivergent like me know that being different doesn't have to be lonely, they can be loved and are soo worthy of it, that they should acknowledge(even if no one else realizes you're special), hone and capitalize on their uniqueness, never dim their light, truly love themselves and the experience of being them and you will have already been setting yourself up for success, be closer to feeling whole, who you were before the world tried to tell you who to be and happier/ content/ free/ at peace and that eventually they'll find their people, their soulmates. I do pray I get to do so myself but incase one would like to after I've accomplished beautiful things in my life and the world starts realizing there is more where that came from... that's what I hope. I really never expect to write this much but then I almost. alwaysss. do.

Much love,

TS<3

Chris Moore

[fangirlingatstuff]

Ceraunophilia: Chapter One

Ceraunophilia: Love of lightning and thunder

A/n: In honor of Rise of The Guardians and my rekindling love for the fandom, I’m writing a fanfic!! Hope any of you who read it enjoy, I’m going to work really hard on it! It’s Pitch x oc, and a slowburn at that! 

Wind. So much damn wind.

Elissa growls and spits hair that flew into her mouth out. “How much longer till we’re out of the headwind?” She barks from the top deck of the ship.

“2 klicks, ma’am!” Garrison shouts. “No more, no less.”

She frowns and jumps down to main deck. “Winsen, Mallary, tighten up the wings!” Elissa orders. “We don’t want the winds pushing us back!”

“Yes, ma’am!” The two men nod, already folding up the fin-like sails.

Elissa, having enough of her wild mane, ties it back. This wind shouldn’t be so strong. They weren’t even over the strait anymore.

She leans on the mast and looks around at the clouds. The wings on the sides that are normally flaring out are now tied back, the wind sliding past. The propeller at the front works overtime, loudly chopping through the air.

At any rate, this gale could knock The Eurus right out of the sky.

Lightning harvesting is a hard business. Storms are unpredictable and rough. If your airship was just the slightest bit off par, it will drop altitude faster than a fly. Storage itself was rough. Keeping the lightning contained was one of the hardest parts of harvesting, as it itself if chaotic and hazardous, fatal if something goes wrong.

It’s a wonder Elissa has been in business for over a century.

The wind grows fiercer, battering the hull so hard, it rocked the ship. “Garris, don’t you dare crash my ship!” Elissa yells, eyes dry. 

“Doing the best I can,” The pilot shouts back.

The wind snaps, the crew huddling close to each other or the sides for warmth and stability. 

Elissa pushes her way up the stairs, covering her face with her hand. “Carnet, lock up the rations, I’m going to bed!”

The quartermaster looks up and frowns. “Elise, don’t you want to stay awake in case we fly over the Sandman?”

“I’ve been up since 3 am,” She waves him off. “I can’t stand anymore of this wind.” She begins to push her door in, eyes narrow.

“Captain, we’re nearing a storm,” Garrison exclaims. “A pretty one at that.”

Elissa spins around. “How much time do we have to prepare?” She asks.

“Maybe another 4 klicks? Maybe 5.”

“I want all hands at the ready, release the nets and string up the cages!” She reaches for a rope and tosses it to a crew member. “I want three jars this time! We’ll port at the next wall.” Elissa cracks her neck and looks over to a man wearing a dark duster and with eyes to match. “Marcus,” She whistles, “Keep the crew in line and make sure they do as they’re ordered. I’m going to bed.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Marcus nods and barks out orders. Elissa rolls her shoulders and stretches her back as she makes her way up the stairs back to her quarters.

The door opens and closes. Elissa takes her hair out and shakes it, getting the water droplets out of her hair and onto the walls. She yawns and drops onto her fold up, stretching out on the furs that lined the mattress and closes her eyes, falling asleep with her hand hanging off the bed.

Something touches her wrist.

Elissa jolts awake and whips out a silver pistol, intricate engravings detailing the shining revolver. “Who’s there?” She barks.

No answer.

She narrows her eyes and grabs a lighter. Flicking the small wheel to ignite the flame, Elissa moves her hand around, lighting up the shadows. “I’m not going to deal with shadows tonight,” She hisses. “Come out where I can see you.”

Still, no answer.

Elissa lowers the lighter, snapping the cap back on. She drops her arm, setting it aside. “Stars above, I’m getting paranoid.”

The sun shines through the huge sails and fins of the ship, clouds below the bow and surround the entire boat.

Elissa smiles, one hand gripping the shroud, the other hanging by her side. She leans over the edge of the ship, watching the clouds as they roll past. 

“Lovely day to go sun surfing, isn’t it, Captain?” A crew member shouts with a smile.

“It sure is, Dennen. It sure is,” Elissa grins and jumps down. “Anyone seen my board? I should check the sail before I go,” she asks and looks around.

“Below deck?” The red headed Carnet asks.

“Checked,” Elissa puts a hand on her hip and taps her foot. 

“What about the bunks?”

“Checked there too.”

“Storage roo-”

“Checked, double checked and checked again,” Elissa glares at him and huffs. She looks at the deck and purses her lips. “Where can it be?” She murmurs to herself.

“Have you tried the closet?” Another crewman asks.

Elissa looks up and snaps her fingers. “Nope.” She tips her head, “Thanks, Charles.” She opens up the board entrance, climbing down and walking to the small closet meant for holding basic supplies, such as a broom, mop and towels.

 Elissa opens the closet door, pushing back buckets and towels. “Dammit.”

“Not in there either, is it?”

Elissa whips around, pulling out her sword and pressing the tip at the person’s throat. “Make one move and I’ll slice your throat,” she spits, narrowing her eyes.

The man jumps back, shadows messing up his silhouette. “Not a pleasant crowd, is it?” he murmurs.

Just barely, Elissa could make out his features. His face was thin and long, his cheeks prominent and his nose gives him a hawk-like look. His hair is black, like the rest of him. If anything, she’d say his entire body was black, or close to it. On closer look, she could see that the black was really a robe, or...something. A coat, maybe. His skin, though, is gray like ash.

The only color on him was the ring around his pupils. A gold color, almost resembling those dreaded solar eclipses that messed up schedules every time they occurred.

She narrows her eyes and takes two steps towards him, again, pressing the end of her blade to his throat. “I know who you are,” she growls. “You damned childhood nightmare.”

The man’s shock turns to a smirk and he laughs. “Oh good, I was afraid you wouldn’t recognize me,” He chuckles and stands with his hands behind his back.

“What do you want, Pitch?” Elissa narrows her eyes.

Pitch pushes her sword away from his throat with one finger. “I came with an offer,” he claims.

“I don’t want it.”

“I have leverage.”

���YOU STOLE MY BOARD?!”

Elissa raises her blade and slashes. Pitch melts into shadows as her blade comes down. She snarls and turns, cutting across where his chest would be. He moved again.

“All this fuss over a little board?” Pitch asks, reappearing from the shadows. He leans on a long surf board like structure with a folded up fin, the color of storm clouds at their finest.

Elissa sneers and shifts her weight to one leg. “Can I just have my Cumulus back?” She asks and drops her sword.

 “Of course,” Pitch smiles sincerely, but quickly turns malicious. “If.”

“If?” Elissa sheathes her sword and crosses her arms. “If what?”

Pitch sets the board aside and stands in front of the captain. “If you help me with something.”

“Being?”

He gestures to her. “You are the captain of a lightning harvester, are you not?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Yes? What’s your point.”

“You know me,” Pitch shrugs with a playful smirk. “I prey on fear. And kids, at one point or another, are absolutely terrified of thunder storms. Storms which you follow and collect from.”

“Yeah,” Elissa tightens her lips. “Kids are. But it ain’t my job to cause storms, I just gather up lightning.”

“Ah,” Pitch points at her, “But you know where they are. I don’t. I can only follow fear, and that in itself is hard to track.”

“You’re just in it for a quick energy boost.”

“You get what you get.”

Elissa scrunches up her nose. “And what do I get out of this?”

Pitch looks up for a few moments, in thought. “What do you get out of this?” he smirks. “Recognition.”

Elissa’s eyes light up. 

“Just imagine how much praise and respect you would get if everyone knew you were working with the boogeyman,” He grins. “No one would bother you.”

“But that’s half the fun,” She smirks. “What’s the point in sailing if you have no competition.”

“You and your crew would be as rich as kings.”

Elissa lifts her head up. “And what about the Guardians?” She asks. This makes Pitch’s face drop into a scowl. “What would happen when they find out that I’m working with their mortal enemy?”

“Do you think that would matter?” Pitch growls. “They wouldn’t even be able to touch you.”

Elissa narrows her eyes. “I would lose customers if they knew the Guardians would be on their tails. So sorry, but no dice.” She pulls her gun on him and stands sideways. Pitch jumps back, eyes wide. “Word’s gotten around quickly, Pitch, and everyone knows you’re a manipulative little bastard.” Elissa flicks the hammer down. “Now get off my ship.”

Pitch walks back into the shadows, eyes hurt but face turned into a fierce snarl. His form becomes lost in the shadows, and leaves Elissa alone in the darkness of the ship’s hold.

She lowers her gun and sighs.

On one hand, power, recognition, becoming untouchable.

On the other, she would lose her business, and the Guardians would always be in her way, keeping constant tabs on her and never leaving her or her ship alone.

She could never set foot in Vale again, let alone be called to the face of the Court.

Elissa growls, turns and grabs her board, walking back up to the main deck.

A/n: god, I haven’t written a new fanfic in forever! It feels nice to get back onto the laptop to write :D This fanfic is going to be long, and I want to expand more on the world of Rotg and Goc. I’ll probz be able to get three chapters in by this week to get the ball rolling and all, so hope you can enjoy reading this first chapter!

Edit: I dont know why the read more and little lines seperating scenes arent showing up on mobile, but maybe that'll be fixed in an update or something

[queenielacy]

Imagine

Javier Pena meets Pacho Herrera for the first time (This is a prequel to this imagine https://queenielacy.tumblr.com/post/167343190054/imagine):

It felt good to be back in Colombia. He missed it. He missed the action, the chases, the gun pointing and the arguments. He missed bring down Pablo, but he wouldn’t miss bring down the Cali Cartel. His new assignment was to help bring down the Rodriguez brothers and their two other partners, partners that were mostly in the dark and no one knew about. First, they had to figure out where the other two partners were and then they would be able to take down the cartel. But before any take downs would happen, Javier Pena had to play a little. He knew once they got deep into the investigation, he would be too busy for going out and having a good time. He wanted to sow his wild oats now, so he was focused later on. This reasoning is how he found himself at a dimly lit club on the outskirts of Cali. The club was hidden and most didn’t know about it due to the nature of the club, it was a club for queer people, people who had what was considered by the general public to be abnormal sexual habits. It was a place for likeminded people to have fun without the ridicule from others. Javier had walked into the club and made his way to the bar. He ordered a drink and started to look around. People were dancing, men with men, women with women, it didn’t matter with whom. As Javier looked around, he felt eyes on him. He turned his head and saw a man staring back at him with intense brown eyes. He sat in a section with nice couches that was roped off. He wore a nice silk shirt and slacks, and nursed a bottle of whiskey. Javier couldn’t hold the gaze. For some reason, he felt shy and embarrassed under his gaze like he was back in high school and his crush was looking at him. Javier turned away from the man and started on his drink again. Another man came up to Javier and they started to talk. He was nice looking, but he wasn’t the man in the corner in the silk shirt. He sent the guy on his way, there was no sense in leading him on. He turned back to the bartender to order another drink. “Put it on my tab.” He heard a deep voice say from behind him. He turned to see the man in the silk shirt standing there, looking down at him with those same eyes. “I’m glad you got rid of that zero.” He said as he sat next to Javier at the bar. Javier chuckled as he picked up his drink. “And you’re going to be my hero?” Javier joked as he raised the drink to his lips. He took a sip and then placed the glass on the counter before letting his tongue come out to lick the liquid from his lips. He followed the man’s eyes as they looked at his tongue on his lip. “I’ll save you from lames anytime.” He said and leaned in closer to Javier. “My friends call me Pacho.” Javier nodded. “Javier.” He answered. “Your friends call you Pacho, but what do I call you?” He asked and Pacho’s lip curled up into a smirk. “You’ll call me God.” Pacho answered and Javier chuckled. “I can see you’re full of yourself.” Javier commented and Pacho shrugged. “Not when you can back it up.” Pacho quickly added. Javier bit his lip as Pacho leaned in even closer, his lips so closer to his own. He could smell the cologne Pacho was wearing and the Whiskey Pacho had drank earlier. “I have a room next door at the hotel if you want me to prove myself.” He offered. Javier threw back his drink and placed the empty glass on the counter. “Lead the way.” He insisted and that made Pacho smile. Pacho threw some money on the counter before taking Javier’s hand and leading him through the club and out of the door. Javier hadn’t noticed the hotel next door when he arrived earlier, but it was a nice hotel especially for this part of Cali. The lobby floor was marble and a nice chandelier hung from the ceiling. They bypassed the woman at the front desk and she didn’t give the two men holding hands in the lobby a second look. Javier assumed it was because she was used to the gay couples next door renting rooms for the night. Pacho pressed the button for the elevator and the door opened. They walked in and pressed the button to take them to the top floor. He waited until the door was closed before pressing Javier against the elevator wall and crowding his space. He pressed his crotch against Javier’s as he placed kisses on his neck. Javier let out a moan as Pacho started to rub against his crotch. He wrapped his arms around the man to pull his closer. “You’re not worried about the cameras.” Javier commented and Pacho shook his head. “Fuck those cameras.” Pacho spoke before pressing a kiss to Javier’s lips. It was a hot, passionate, and hungry kiss. Javier could taste the liquor on Pacho’s mouth and he was sure Pacho could taste him. “I want you.” Pacho mumbled against Javier’s lips. He reached down to start undoing Javier’s jeans. He pulled them down a little so he could free Javier’s cock. He rubbed at the his cock before turning him around and pressing his chest to wall. Javier was a bit surprised when Pacho turned him around. He felt the man’s hands on his ass, rubbing his cheeks. “Damn, you have a great ass.” Pacho commented. “I can’t wait to fuck it.” “Who said anything about you fucking me?” Javier questioned, half playfully half seriously. He normally didn’t allow one night stands to fuck him, choosing to fuck or just have a blowjob or hand job. Javier could hear Pacho’s belt come undone and his zipper being pulled down. A few seconds later, he felt Pacho’s cock sliding between his cheeks. A really big cock in between his cheeks and a thick tip pressing against his hole, but not entering him. “You really want to pass on this?” Pacho asked as he moved his hips, sliding his cock over and against Pacho’s hole. Javier shivered at the touch and rolled his hips. He didn’t really want to pass on that. The elevator dinged as they arrived at their floor and the door opened, both thankful that no one was outside the door. The two pulled up their pants so they could walk down the hall to Pacho’s room. Pacho quickly opened the door and Javier stepped inside. It was a nice room but Javier wasn’t able to fully appreciate it because Pacho grabbed him and pulled him over to the bedroom. They moved through the suite and quickly made it into the room. Pacho pushed Javier onto the bed and crawled on top of him. The two kissed as they pulled their clothes off of one another. They soon laid completely naked on the bed. Pacho flipped Javier onto his stomach without warning. “A little warning next time.” Javier sassed him and Pacho gave him a spank on his butt for the backtalk. “I’ll have to put that mouth if yours to work later.” He warned before reaching over and grabbed some lube and a condom that he hand in the nightstand drawer. Pacho poured some onto his fingers before pressing them to Javier’s hole. Javier let out a low moan as Pacho’s fingers entered him, slowly moving and pressing into his prostate. It felt like forever, but it had only been a few tortuous minutes before Javier broke. “You gonna fuck me, or should I find someone else?” He questioned the man. Pacho gave him a hard smack to his ass that made Javier  moan. “Patience.” Pacho cooed as he pulled his fingers from Javier. He grabbed the condom and put it on. He then poured some lube onto his cock, slicking himself up before lining up and pushing inside of Javier. “Oh, God.” Javier moaned as Pacho slid inside of him. Pacho let out a chuckle as he leaned over to mouth at Javier’s ear. “I told you. I knew you’d call me God.” Pacho teased him and Javier let out a chuckle. “Fuck you.” The DEA responded. “Actually, I’ll fuck you.” Pacho spoke before snapping his hips. No more words were spoken between the two, just loud moans and the sound of skin slapping together filled the room. Javier was the first to finish, cumming untouched as Pacho’s cock pressed into his prostate. His whole body tensed as his orgasm washed over him. He went limp after his orgasm was over, allowing Pacho to pump roughly into him. The man soon finished with Javier’s name on his tongue. Javier collapsed on to the bed once Pacho pulled out of him. He could hear Pacho moving around but didn’t have the energy to turn his head to see what the other man was doing. Pacho soon returned to the bed. He laid on his side next to Javier and placed gently kisses on his shoulder. “You okay?” Pacho asked. “Mm.” Javier answered. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to walk.” He added and Pacho laughed. “Then stay here and take all the time you need.” He said and Javier shook his head. “If I stay, I’ll end up on your dick again.” “And that’s a bad thing because...” Pacho questioned. “Because I have to work in the morning and I need to be able to walk.” He reasoned and Pacho laughed. “Just tell them you fell getting out of the pool.” Pacho offered and Javier let out a laugh. “Stay.” Pacho said and leaned over to press a kiss on Javier’s lips. It a light peck on Javier’s lips. “I have eleven more condoms and we can use them all tonight.” “Oh god.” Javier chuckled and leaned in to return the kiss, this time it was a deeper, more passionate kiss. “I prefer to be called Pacho.” Pacho teased him and Javier moved to straddle Pacho’s waist. “You’ll be calling me God by the time this night is over.” Javier promised and Pacho smirked. “We’ll see.” Pacho said and grabbed a condom from the nightstand and held it up to Javier. “So, you’re staying?” He asked. Javier looked between him and condom. He really needed to go home and get ready for work in the morning, but he was the supervisor now and the supervisor could be a little late. Javier snatched the condom from Pacho and started to open it. “Yeah, I’m staying.” He answered and Pacho gave him ass a slap. “Good boy.” Pacho cooed and Javier chuckled. “Shut up, or I won’t ride you.” Javier threatened and Pacho made a motion over his mouth with his hand, as if he was zipping it shut. “Good boy.” Javier teased the man underneath him. He started roll his hips and tease Pacho to full hardness. Once he was hard, Javier opened the condom and rolled it over Pacho’s cock. He poured some lube on him before moving to ride his cock. As Pacho entered him for the second time that night, Javier knew had made the right decision. He was definitely going to be late to work tomorrow.